#Isaac: worried boyfriend

[inkykeiji]

so many new silent hill projects (*/ω＼*)

#i know they won’t be able to capture what made sh2 so special BUT #from the trailer i’ve seen it seems like they’re trying to keep with that very flat affect in the acting and i think that’s awesome #it’s also literally identical to sh2 original from what i’ve seen as well #ugh <3333333333333 #i’m rly interested in townfall tho #i don’t even care if the game isn’t good #the aesthetics alone are worth it #and anything that uses tech to it’s creepy advantage is always a plus for me #like i love the use of static in the original sh2 #i actually wrote about it and it’s function in one of my final papers hahaha #because one of the dead space games (ds 2 i think) does the same with with static signalling uhhhh what’s her name isaac’s girlfriend #anyway #super excited for all of this i don’t even care if it’s awful #silent hill is half aesthetic/atmosphere anyway #my boyfriend & one of his brothers & i were talking about that actually the day it released #like the day the announcement released #saying if they can get the atmosphere of sh2 right then they’re halfway there #what i’m particularly worried about is this advanced technology taking away the charm of sh2 #like the fact that the graphics are so;;;; not bad but mediocre or old school i guess??? just adds to its charm a LOT #but with all that being said it’ll also be so awesome to actually SEE the town in gorgeous graphics #super excited to see my sexy man pyramid head in all his HD glory ugh <33333 YES daddy!!!!!! #clari clatters #omg #clari CHATTERS #i’m leaving clatters tho that’s so funny

[kitchenisking]

March Fic Rec

back to back recs cuz I wasn't paying attention to the weeks fly by😅

Obsession by Rae666 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,399, sterek)

Derek gets hit by a witch's curse and is confined to his loft as his uncle searches for a cure and Isaac stands guard. But as the curse grows worse and Derek's obsession with a certain pale skinned person becomes increasingly intense, how long can the team keep Derek and Stiles apart, especially when Stiles decides to take matters into his own hands?

The Wolf by rororowyourboat - (Rating: G, Words: 3,901, sterek)

Stiles and Derek haven't seen each other in years, but after talking on the phone nonstop for months now, Derek is finally moving back to Beacon Hills. The day he's supposed to arrive, he stops responding to Stiles' texts, and then a blue-eyed wolf shows up on his porch steps. Obviously something has happened to Derek, and Stiles needs to help him out... right?

Tease by katrint - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,852, sterek)

Stiles is used to Derek being all growly, claiming and rough when he gets jealous, but when something that usually would make Derek all the above happens, and Derek shows no interest in Stiles whatsoever, Stiles starts to worry.

Ulterior Motives by useyrwordsderek - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,082, sterek)

In which Stiles is warm for Derek’s form, Derek is repressed, and Erica is awesome. (Lydia is also awesome, but that goes without saying.) Author’s notes: Set after Season 2; mild spoilers for all of S1 and S2. Previously posted to LJ. My first Teen Wolf fic! Be gentle!

It feels like a perfect night (for breakfast at midnight) by princecharmingwinks - (Rating: G, Words: 1,068, sterek)

Stiles is floating on cloud nine. He is absolutely living his best life. It's a Saturday night, he's out with his friends and he's dancing like it's his birthday. Because it is! (Or it will be in 20 minutes, once midnight ticks around). And what better way to celebrate the respectful age of 22 than a night out?

The Hale Beast by secretfanboy - (Rating: Mature, Words: 17,707, sterek)

Stiles would rather be at home playing X-Box than attending the ceremony inaugurating the Wolf nation's sovereignty over the Argent kingdom, but he's the Sheriff's son so those are the breaks. What he doesn't expect is the feral werewolf Prince Derek AKA The Beast to take an interest in him.

He was alone with the Beast. His heart started pounding its way up into his throat. A burst of static came from his cell phone. "Scott! Oh my god! He's here! The Hale Beast is here with me and I'm alone and no one is here to witness when he kills me...to death!"

Treasure by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 71,231, sterek)

“I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.

The Mending That You Need by torakowalski - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,861, sterek)

“He’s not my boyfriend, Stiles. He’s a man from a club. I couldn’t call him, if I wanted to.”

Even Forbidden Fruits Get Picked by flitterflutterfly - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 18,658, sterek)

When Stiles’ best friend gets himself bitten by a rogue werewolf, Stiles convinces him to seek aide from the local pack. Stiles tags along, ready to help Scott despite the knowledge that he likely wouldn’t be welcome. After all, Doms rarely ever approved of Stiles and he thought the Hales would be no exception. So he was surprised to find that not only had the rogue seemed to develop some kind of creepy fascination with him, the young alpha wolf, Derek, seemed to want him as well.

Transformation by sffan - (Rating: T, Words: 1,885, sterek)

“Dude. You turned into a wolf. What the hell? When did that start being a thing?”

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs #ficrec #fanfic

[axelsagewrites]

Roy Kent*Locker Room

Pairing: Season one!Roy Kent x f!reader

Word count: 2063

Warnings: swearing (kent style), m! receiving oral, voyeurism/exhibitionism, Jamie flirting with reader, Roy’s inner thoughts aka light violence, smut 18+

Masterlist here

Jamie fucking Tartt was about to get his front teeth knocked out his fucking skull if he didn’t back the fuck down was all Roy could think about during practise. that and knocking him over the head with a heavy rope, or a rock, or his fist, or his shoe, or really anything. of course, the American didn’t see the harm in Jamie running up and down the pitch like a twat but as captain Roy wanted nothing more than to ship all three of them back on a plane to wherever the hell the cowboy came from.

the only solace Roy got during that practise was your text saying you would pick him up after practise for a surprise date. for a moment it actually brought a smile to his face. that was till he caught sight of Tartt doing his own chant, so he sent back a quick ‘love u’ text before going to yell at the knob head celebrating a fake match.

Roy counted down the seconds till he could get off this damn pitch however when coach lasso called, he decided to fall back. by making sure Roy was the last one in the locker room and showers he could make sure he was as far back from Jamie Tartt who was running like he was being chased. if only it was Roy chasing him with a big stick.

anyone who spoke to him only received a grunt in return. as Roy came back from the showers with only a towel round his waist most of the team had left. Jamie was at his locker taking his stupid tongue out selfies as Issac said a quick goodbye to him, dodging Roys gaze as he and Collin split, Sam not far behind.

Roy inwardly smiled at the way Nathan ran out the room when he walked in. when he got to his locker the first thing, he did was check his phone to discover you were already here, so he quickly let you know he just had to get changed. when lasso and beard tried to say goodbye Roy just grunted as he pulled on his jeans.

when he glanced behind him, he was grateful to see Jamie finally sauntering out the room, not even bothering to say goodbye to his captain to which Roy was thankful for. when the door shut behind Jamie Roy let out a sigh of relief being the only one left in the room.

you however had decided not to wait in the car and just meet Roy in the locker room. you nodded and smiled to all the boys you passed but didn’t stop to talk since you weren’t there for them. as Isaac and colin left the two wondered how in the hell you and Roy worked considering you were always kind and happy whereas Roy was, well Roy.

You were barely able to slip passed ted and beard with just a howdy hello. However only one of the boys managed to stop you in your path, “Look who it is,” Jamie grinned, opening his arms out wide making you roll your eyes with a smile, “Its Mrs grampa,”

“Hello to you too Tartt,”

“Don’t worry love I won’t keep ya. Can’t risk grampa having to wait for his sponge bath,”

You rolled your eyes again as you kept walking, knowing full well Jamie was staring at your arse, “You’re just jealous he gets one and you don’t,” you grinned, excited to finally see your boyfriend after a long day.

“If you ever wanna be with a real footballer love you’ve got my number,” he said, clicking his tongue and firing finger guns at you before spinning on his heels and finally leaving.

you were laughing quietly as you opened the door to the locker room, finally laying eyes on your boyfriend. Roy looked up with a stone face, but a smile fell over it when he saw you, “What’s got you laughing then princess?” he asked as he fastened his belt.

“Just Jamie being a prick,” you said as you walked up to him. before Roy could start his impending rant, you looped your fingers in his belt loops, pulling him closer, “Sad I missed the show though,” you smirked, leaning up to kiss him.

Roy practically melted into your touch as his hand cupped your jaw, his other resting on your hip, “Im sure I could hit rewind for you,” he teased as he pulled back, his hands moving to your back to pull your body flush against his, “I’ve missed you,”

“You saw me this morning babe,” you laughed as your arms moved to rest over his shoulders.

Roy chuckled, his eyes glancing down, “Been thinking about you all day,”

“What about me specifically?” you teased, catching another quick peck.

his hands slid down your back slowly before he suddenly slapped your arse making you have yelped half squeal. “You know exactly what I’ve been thinking about. walking in here looking like this,”

“Looking like what?” you said, leaning in so your nose brushed against his.

“So, fucking fuckable,” he said, his voice somehow lower than before making your stomach do flips and knocking the butterflies all over the place, “Been thinking about those fucking lips all day,” Roy said before his lips crashed onto yours in a desperate messy kiss.

your hands gripped his hair making Roy groan into the kiss as his hands squeezed your hips tightly knocking the wind out of you. “Well, I can’t do much else with these lips till we get out of here,” you said, finally pulling away for air and walking backwards leading Roy towards the door.

“Says who?” Roy said, his hot breath fanning over your neck before his lips soon to kiss down your skin making you moan when he reached the crook of your neck. Roy moved you back till your back was against the locker room door.

“We can’t Roy,” you moaned, your grip tightening in his hair.

“Sure, don’t sound like you wanna stop,” he mumbled against your skin.

it had been a thought you’d had a lot, fucking Roy in the locker room. or really anywhere at Richmond. Roy had even said after his last win that he would’ve taken you on the pitch right then if he could. ever since the idea had been in your head and with the season just starting again it was seeming tempting, but you knew the cleaners would be coming round soon.

but not right now. Roy groaned when you pulled his head from your neck but his eyes about popped out his skull when he felt your hand on his belt buckle. “Seriously?” he asked, almost getting giddy about the idea as you unbuckled the belt, working quickly on the button of his jeans.

You hummed in response as you undid his zip, “Just my mouth though. for now,”

“Hey im not fucking complaining,” Roy grinned but his mouth fell open, a small moan from his lips when he felt your hand wrap around his cock, “Fuck babe wait- “he said making you almost pull your hand out his boxers but he grabbed your wrist to stop you, “Over here. so, we’re not in the middle of the room yeah?” he said as he led you over to the closest locker.

you laughed when you looked up at the locker, “You want me to suck you off in front of Jamies locker?” you said, still following Roy over.

“Cmon,” Roy groaned, his cock pulsing in your hand as he reached his enemies spot in the locker room, “This would be the ultimate fuck you. the fuck yous of fuck you,” he said as the backs of his legs hit the bench.

your hand moved from his dick, much to Roys dismay, to hold his shoulders. Roy was about ready to call it quits when he felt you push down on his shoulders, making him sit down on the bench. you stayed stood for a moment, your hand tracing over his jaw, “You Roy Kent, are a petty bitch,” you said as you slowly moved down onto your knees making Roy somehow get even harder, “Who I love,”

“I’ve never loved you more,” Roy said as he watched you with awe. you rolled your eyes as you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his tip.

if you were going to do something so wrong you were going to do it right. you licked slow soft licks around his tip making Roy groan as his hand found its way into your hair, but he knew better than to rush you. he nearly gasped for air when he felt you lick down his shaft, your hand resting on the other side of his sensitive member.

you teased him for a few moments till you finally began to swirl your tongue around his tip before slowly sinking down his cock. Roy moaned, not caring if anyone was still here to hear him as your hands moved to cup his balls. his moans were all the encouragement you needed to keep going, your head bobbing down with an increasing pace as you felt his tip hit the back of your throat.

Roy felt like he could cum at any moment, but he wanted to enRoy this. his eyes were screwed up with pleasure but for some reason he felt the need to open them. when he did, he saw Jamie, standing at the other locker room door, his hand still on the handle and his jaw practically on the fucking floor.

having Jamie seeing this was somehow even better than him never knowing it happened. it took Jamie a moment to notice Roys eyes were open and when he met his captains eyes all Roy could do was smirk, leaning his head back to rest against the wall as Jamie stood there in awe. Roy wanted to enRoy this feeling, that was until he felt your cheeks hollow around his cock and his eyes screwed up in pleasure once more.

Roy knew he couldn’t wait any longer but when he went to tap your shoulder to tell you that, a signal you had decided upon months ago, you decided to keep going. Roy couldn’t contain himself any longer and he gasped as he felt himself spill his cum down your throat. your movements slowed but you didn’t pull your lips away till you had practically sucked all the life from the footballer.

when you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt, you looked up to Roy with those doe eyes he loved so fucking much. seeing them made him reach down, pulling you in by your jaw to kiss you harshly. you heard some kind of click and you pulled back, glancing behind you, “Did you hear something?” you asked, slowly getting up from your suddenly sore knees.

“Nah,” Roy said as he helped you stand, getting up himself and zipping back up, “But we should go. gotta get you home so I can repay the favour,” he said making you giggle and rush towards the door, Roy slapping your arse as you went making you fake scold your boyfriend.

as you walked the halls Roy briefly wondered if he had taken it too far but after all it was Jamie, so he didn’t worry. then he wondered why Jamie hadn’t confronted him? was it actually Jamie that had seen him or some orgasm angle? if Jamie had down that to him Roy would’ve fucked him across the room and kicked the living hell out of him.

it must’ve been someone else Roy thought, trying his best to act casual as he walked with you to the parking lot. however, when Roy opened the door for you to walk into the car park, he looked up to see Jamie, sat his car eyes closed. Roy barked a laugh at the sight, making your head spin around looking for what was funny.

however, Jamie had heard your boyfriends laugh and by the time you spotted his car it was speeding out of the parking lot. You looked after the car, head tilted, “Jamies a weird one,” you said as you unlocked your car, and all Roy could do was laugh. next practise was gonna be the cats’ pyjamas.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasson smut #ted lasso season one #roy kent #roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent x y/n #roy kent smut #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent x jamie tartt #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader

[idontknowulol]

Isaac Garcia x reader

JEALOUS

Summary: You get jealous of how much time Isaac has been spending with his tutor Grace and you get really upset.

Warnings: all fluff, swearing

I honestly have never hated myself as much as I do right now, I have so much going on in my life outside school as well as in school, but when Isaac came to me asking for me to tutor him for chemistry ,as it is the only subject he isn't do well in, I felt really bad saying no to my boyfriend as I have no free time,so I asked Grace if she could as I know how good she is at chem ,and she said yes, and let's just say it came back to bite me in the ass.

I was sat at the lunch table with Jackie and Skylar as I took a extremely aggressive bite out of my apple as I watched them laugh at whatever the hell they were looking at , " are you okay Y/N?" Jackie says staring at me with a concerned facial expression, "yeah why wouldn't I be?" I continuing to aggressively bite into my apple. " because you look like your about to scrap a bitch" Skylar states bluntly and I look up at him and Jackie in surprise, " do I really?" I say curiously they both look at each other and nod in union, and I sigh and look away in embarrassment, " I don't know, its not that I don't like Grace she is lovely, I just hate how, well much time she has been spending with my boyfriend, I mean we have been texting and calling and speaking to each other every day it’s just, I feel like I haven’t seen seen him you get me?” I say shyly Skylar and Jackie both nod at my words, “ it was my idea so I shouldn’t be upset,I just miss him a lot recently and I regret saying no to tutoring him, because at this point it’s the only time we would have together” I say sadly. Skylar and Jackie both smile at me, but Jackie is the first to speak, “ how about you go up to him and try make some plans with him?I mean all you really want to do is see him your not really concerned what you guys are doing, from what it seems” Jackie states. “ you know what I think I will, thanks Jackie,You too Skylar”I say, they both just smile and I get up from my seat in the cafeteria and walk over to where Isaac and Grace are, when I reach them they are still laughing and Isaac looks up at me, and his face instantly lights up when he sees me, which I will admit makes me soften a little.

“Hey baby” Isaac says to me, “ Hey” I say back quietly, feeling quite weirdly shy, “hi Y/N” Grace says in a friendly tone, “ hey” I say back, “ um Isaac can I speak to you for a sec?” I say nervously, Isaac notices this as he smirks at me and gets up from his seat, “ I’ll be back in a sec” he says to Grace, she nods and me and Isaac head out of the cafeteria and into the hallway and find a empty classroom where we can be alone. As soon as as we enter the room Isaac wraps his around my waist and pulls me into him hugging me , which I reciprocate as I have been feeling really needy when it comes to my boyfriend recently, “so baby, what did you want to talk about” Isaac says nuzzling my neck which he does on purpose because he knows it makes me giggle, “ can we do something today” I thread my hand through his hair, “ I feel like I haven’t really seen you much Isaac and I hate that” I say quietly into his chest, “ me too me too, but I can’t today baby, I am revising at the library with Grace after school, I have that big Chem test coming up tomorrow,and you know I can’t fail it again, otherwise Aunt Katherine will kill me” Isaac says shuddering at the thought, I can’t help but make my body freeze at his words as I feel the jealousy coursing through my body, what he is saying makes perfect sense I know it does,but that just makes me more agitated for some reason.

“Oh that’s fine, don’t worry about it then, I’ll call you later then? I say quickly pulling away from Isaac feeling tears sting my eyes, “yeah wait Y-, I sprint out the room before Isaac can finish too overwhelmed to go back, I know he wishes he had time, but I just wish that he had that right now, I sound really really selfish, but I just really need him today and he can’t be there and that kinda makes me feel like shit. The tears begin to fall from my eyes as I speed walk out of school, not caring if I get punished for skipping.

In the end I drove home climbed into bed and put some Netflix on to try and cheer me up, but all that was replaying in my head was me and Isaac’s conversation, I have been so overdramatic , but I don’t know why, I think I’m just having one of those days, I feel my phone vibrate and I instantly know who it is and I put my phone on silent,then I feel a light knock on my window , I sigh quietly when K see Isaac and open it to let him climb through, which he does before plopping himself next to me on the bed, “ Hey” He says looking at me “ Hey aren’t you supposed to be in school?, you know Katherine is going to kill youu when she finds out you skipped” I say confused as to why he is here at this time of day “ I know I know but I had to though” he says staring intently at me “ and why is that?” I ask curiously . “ because I need to know why my girlfriend left school on the verge of tears” Isaac says seriously, I look away in shame,embarrassed that he knew I was upset, I though it was obvious but I didn’t think it was that obvious. “Don’t be ashamed for having feelings” Isaac states reading me like a book, “come here”Isaac says with open arms, I climb onto Isaac’s lap, and wrap my arms around his neck, he rubs my back gently in and up down motion,whilst the other hand is on my waist, he places his lips on my head and just holds it there before speaking. “So, how are you actually feeling hmm?” Isaac asks gently continuing to rub my back.

Just those words alone are enough to make me burst into tears, from all the pent up frustration I have been holding in, this causes Isaac to pull me closer. “ Baby” He says softly, placing a kiss on my forehead urging me to go on, “It’s stupid, you know how you came to me asking me to tutor you?” Isaac nods at me as he wipes fresh tears falling from my face, “ well,I regret saying no, and let’s just say it’s been eating me up, I wish that I had the time on my hands to help you out as , you wouldn’t be spending so much time with Grace, and I would get to spend some time with you alone,which I haven’t had a lot of recently and it’s made me realise how much I miss you Isaac, and I have been feeling stressed and overwhelmed about school as I’ve been feeling like I need you but I pushed you away, and you just help me forget, and that’s one of the reasons why I love you, I know I have no right to be mad at Grace, as she is a sweet girl and I asked her to help you I just can’t help it” I say finishing quietly, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Is that how you really feel” Isaac states as he continues to cuddle me, I just nod quietly, Isaac’s face pulls into a small smile which confuses the hell out of me. “Baby, why didn’t you just tell me? you know I would never want you feeling overwhelmed and feeling like you need me and can’t reach me” He says, “ yeah I know,you just have a lot on your plates right now, and I didn’t want to add to it” I say in a hushed tone, “oh Y/N, baby you need to understand,anything your going through is never a issue or work added to my plate, your problems are my problems too because your my girl, and we’re a couple we’re supposed to go through our issues together, your problems won’t make me love you any less then I already do, and trust me I love you a insane amount” Isaac states simply which makes me flush hard, and pulls a laugh out of Isaac.

“ Thank you Isaac” I say hugging him tightly, “anytime baby” Isaac says hugging me just as hard, we pull back a bit and Isaac cups my cheek gently and kisses me deeply and I kiss him back with just as much passion and the kiss quickly because heated and we start to make out, Isaac breaks the kiss and lightly presses kisses all down my neck drawing little sighs out of me which pulls a smile to his face, “I have missed you” He says his voice in a husky tone from all the heavy kisses as he kisses my neck one last time, and pulls me back into him.

“ soo is jealous Y/N a thing now??” Isaac asks with a smug look on his face, “what are you talking about Isaac? I wasn’t jealous” I say stubbornly when I know I fully was, “mhmmm are you sure baby cause I’m pretty sure multiple people have told me they have caught you shooting daggers at Grace” Isaac says attempting to hold in his laughter but failing miserably, I look at Isaac appalled which makes him laugh harder “ was I actually?” I ask feeling bad about what I did to Grace,l mean sure I was jealous of how much time she was spending with Isaac, but she is a sweet girl and didn’t deserve that, “ Don’t worry tomorrow is our last study session, since I am also sitting that test tomorrow, so you can apologize then” Isaac said once again reading my like book. “We should probably go now” Isaac says getting up from my bed, “ go? Wait where are we going? I ask in confusion. “My house of course I can’t show up without you there, cause she won’t kill my whilst your there” Isaac says bravely and I slap his head at his words and he flinches, even though Isaac is only a softy for you he still has his jerk moments, “geez Y/N I was only joking, I just wanted us to finally be able to spend some time together” I blush from realization at his words.

Let’s just say Katherine wasn’t too mad when she found out why Isaac was skipping, a ‘hopeless romantic’ is what she called him, if someone told me a few years ago that Isaac Garcia was a hopeless romantic I would probably wouldn’t believe you.

#my life with the walter boys #isaac garcia #mlwtwb #isaac walter #fem reader #issac walter x reader

[crazyk-imagine]

Breakfast and Shocking News

Pairing: Theo Raeken x Pack member!reader

Characters: Theo Raeken, Pack member!reader, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Liam Dunbar, Malia Tate (Hale), Lydia Martin, Derek Hale, Peter Hale

Warnings: Fluff, post show, Theo is probably ooc, cute pack moment, Isaac should have been in season 6a/b and the movie so I brought him back, I got lost in tw fanfic tiktoks and now I'm back on tw

Word Count: 918

Is this the start of a series like my gym one for Triple Frontier? Maybe, we'll see.

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

You make another bowl of pancake batter, making sure to make more than you did last time. God, that was a mess.

You had to calm down three of them and Stiles should know better than to throw a fit in front of everyone. He's older than them for god's sake.

You shake your head and scoop more batter into the second pan you have going.

Footsteps entering the kitchen alarm you but enough to make you worry.

"Hey," he pecks your cheek.

"Someone else could be up, you know."

"I already checked." He taps his ears.

"Really?" You stare the chimera with a deadpan expression.

"Yeah, really," he says sarcastically, smirking at you afterwards.

"You're not cute."

"Oh, I think you're wrong. I'm," he wraps his arms around your waist. "Adorable and as your adorable boyfriend, it's my duty to tell you that," he pecks your neck, the spot underneath your ear. "Your pancakes are close to burning."

Your eyes widen. "Oh, crap." You remove yourself from his grasp and remove the pancakes from the pans. "Go sit down. You can get started on breakfast before everyone else wakes up."

"As long as you eat with me." He turns off the stove, pulling you with him.

"But I-"

He sits down, pulling you down beside him. He prepares your plate before making his own. "Eat." His free arm wraps around your back, his hand landing on your hip, keeping you close.

"Sometimes I wonder how you were ever a bad guy," you comment, cutting up your pancake.

"Stiles says the same thing but more sarcastically."

"It'd be alarming if he didn't use sarcasm." You look for your glass and realize you didn't get something to drink for either of you. "Do you want milk or juice?" You look in the fridge.

"I'm not Liam."

You purse your lips. "Just because he's younger and doesn't like coffee, doesn't make him a child."

He gives you a look.

"Don't be mean. He's a nice guy."

You reach for a mug in the cabinet.

"He has a crush on you."

"He does not."

"He follows you around like a puppy."

"He says I'm like an older sister to him."

"So, he doesn't get his ass kicked."

"You got punched by him at least three times."

Theo scoffs. "Did he tell you that?"

"Everyone has."

He shakes his head, stabbing his fork into his food. "I let him."

"Sure, you did." You place the mugs beside the plates and sit back down. "I'd still call you to kick somebody's ass for me," you tell him, wanting him to feel better.

"Yeah?"

You nod, "of course I would. Also, not to mention how hot you look when you shifted."

"You think I'm hot?" He turns to you.

You pause in your bite, slowly swallowing. "No?"

"You do. You think I'm hot."

You scoff, pushing him away. "I didn't say that."

"You said I'm hot," he repeats to tease you.

"No," you whine when he leans in.

"What did I just walk into?"

You both freeze, slowly turning to face the human of the pack. "Hey, Stiles."

"Don't "hey Stiles" me." He points between the two of you. "What's a- what's going on here?"

"We're having breakfast."

"You're looking a little close for people having breakfast."

"What's it to you?" Asks Theo.

"Something you want to tell your friendly neighborhood FBI Agent?"

You two glance at one another and shrug. "No."

He nods and ventures over to the coffee maker. "I don't buy it."

Some of the other pack members wander into the kitchen.

"Did Stiles find out?"

"Little bit," you tell her, pinching your fingers together, leaving a bit of space between your thumb and index finger.

"I don't get it."

"He's about to figure it out," Liam tells the were-coyote.

"Oh."

"Wait- you guys know they're dating?!" Stiles screeches.

"Uh," Malia, Liam, and Brett make the same noise.

"No?" Scott chimes in.

"Oh, please. It was painfully obvious from the start."

"How did you get in?" The true alpha asks Peter.

"When I got here," Derek adds.

"When did you get in?" Stiles asks.

"A few minutes ago."

"Is everyone here?" Malia asks.

"Now, we are," Lydia interrupts.

"Great. How many of you knew these two were dating?"

Everyone raises their hands, except for Liam.

"Okay, I'm not the only one."

"I was the one who got them together."

"Oh, great so everyone knew before me."

"Guess so," you shrug.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"We knew you'd judge."

He scoffs, "I wouldn’t-"

"I asked you a hypothetical question and asked how you would feel if I was dating someone from the pack."

"Uh huh... and?"

"You said rip the band aid off and I said Theo. You told me to put the band aid back on and pretended I didn’t say anything after that."

"And your point is?"

"You didn’t want to accept it therefore I didn't actually tell you."

"I can- I can accept it."

"You can't," Isaac pats his shoulder before pushing him out of the way.

"When did you get into town?"

"This morning."

"Hence the big batch for breakfast," you answer.

"You knew he was coming?"

"Of course, I did. I picked him up."

"I did," Theo corrects you.

"It was a team effort, sweetheart." You pat his knee.

"Ew. Please, I'm trying to enjoy my coffee."

"Like you need something else to get you all jittery," you tell the human.

He sarcastically laughs in return.

-

Taglist

@kmc1989

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #theo raeken #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken fanfic #theo raeken fanfiction #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken x you #theo raeken x pack member reader #theo raeken x pack member!reader #crazyk-imagine

[ofstarsandvibranium]

if it’s not too much to ask (🥺) could you do a reader who’s best friends with Colin and he teases her about her crush on Jamie and tries to get them together? If not, NO WORRIES. Your stuff is so 🥰

(this ended up being a lot longer than I intended...whoops!)

You and Colin grew up together. You were two peas in a pod, the thickest of thieves. You knew everything about each other. You were the first person he told when he realized he was gay. He was the first person you told after you had your first kiss. You're each other's platonic soulmates.

As such, you're always trying to help each other in regards to your dating lives. When he told you about Michael, you were excited to see your best friend finally found his person. Michael was amazing and you two clicked instantly, to Colin's relief.

Your love life? Weeeell...

Colin and Michael were expecting you since twenty minutes prior, you texted them: THIS DATE SUCKS. IM COMING OVER.

So you're now sitting on Colin's couch in between the couple.

"So what happened this time?" Colin asks.

"All he talked about was football, specifically West Ham," that got Colin groaning, "He also looked my Instagram up and saw the pictures of you and I. Asked if we dated in the past, if you'd be able to get him tickets to the next Richmond versus West Ham game."

"You know you can archive the pictures of us so people-"

"No. I'd never do that to you, Col. It's like I'm ashamed of you and I'm not."

Colin gives a small smile and nod of appreciation, "Thanks, babe."

"Maybe you can set her up with one of your teammates," Michael suggests.

A lightbulb went off in Colin's head and you immediately said, "Don't."

"He's available."

"It'll be weird!"

"No, it won't!"

"Isn't he a dickhead?"

"Not as much anymore!"

Michael waved in front of you and Colin, "What's going on?"

You groan, hiding your face in your hands, "Kill me."

Colin snickers, "Y/N's celebrity crush before I got into the league was Jamie Tartt. When she found out he was being lent to Richmond, she freaked out. Made a complete fool of herself by tripping in front of him and getting a bloody nose."

"Ooohh. That's pretty bad." Michael says, wincing.

"It was so mortifying!" you cry out, "There's no way he'd want to date me after that disaster!"

"He might not even remember it," Colin says reassuringly.

"I don't want to risk it," you turn to Michael, "Michael, tell him it's a bad idea."

Michael looks to his boyfriend, "Do you vouch for Jamie?"

Colin nods, "I do, actually. He's completely turned his act around. He can still be a prick sometimes, but it's not as bad as it was when he first joined the team."

Michael focuses back on you, "You should go for it."

You immediately stand up, "Nope. I'm not making myself out to be a fool again. No thanks! I'm out!"

_____________________

"Hey, Jamie," Colin rushes up to Jamie as he exits his car.

Closing the door behind him, Jamie responds, "Yeah, mate?"

"You're not seeing anyone right?"

"No," Jamie replies with furrowed brows, look of confusion.

"My best friend, Y/N, she's beautiful, funny, and smart and think you and her would be a great match." Colin holds out his phone, showing Jamie a really great candid picture of you that he took when you two went to dinner months ago.

Jamie nods at the picture. You were, indeed, very beautiful. The way the sun hit your skin made you look angelic, "She's...nice."

Colin rolls his eyes, "One date. That's all I ask."

"Why me though?" Jamie still looks a bit confused, "Why not Bumbercatch or Isaac?"

"I just think you and Y/N would fit really well. She's been having a rough time with dating so I figured you'd show her how she should be treated."

To be fair, Jamie was thinking about getting back into the dating scene. He finally got over Keeley, accepting that they'd just be better off as friends. You seemed like a decent person, from the few things Colin mentioned. Might as well, right?

"Fuck it. Sure."

Colin fist bumped the air, "Yes! You won't regret it. I'll make the plans. You just show up."

"Yeah, yeah, alright."

_______________

You show up to Ola's, a place you've been to before. As soon as you walk in, Colin and Michael are there.

"I need to preface this and say you can't be mad at me," Colin says.

You narrow your eyes at him, "What did you do?"

"It'll be fine. I promise. Michael and I will be on the other side of the restaurant if you need anything, but you won't, because it'll be great."

"But if it goes wrong, it was definitely all his doing," Michael says, pointing to Colin.

Colin grimaces, "Thanks, babe." He takes your hand and leads you towards the back corner where Jamie fucking Tartt was sitting.

You immediately give Colin a look and he pushes you towards him, murmuring, "It'll be fine!"

You slowly approach the table and Jamie looks up, giving you a polite smile as he pockets his phone.

"Hi, I'm Jamie," he offers his hand out.

"I know," you say as you shake his hand, "I'm so sorry Colin roped you into this. You really don't have to be here if you don't want to."

He shrugs, "It's fine. Been meanin' to get back into the dating game. Besides, if things don't really work out, we get free dinner and drinks out of it, yeah?"

Your brows shot up, "Colin's paying?"

Jamie nods, "He said he would."

You smirk and gesturing for a server. He smiles at you, "Would you like to start with drinks?"

You nod, "Yes, we'll have your most expensive bottle please."

It's now Jamie's brows that shoot up and he looks at you in surprise. When the server leaves to get the drinks, you lean in and said, "It's payback," you sigh as you sit down.

"So...you weren't too keen on going on a date with me then?" he asks awkwardly.

You suddenly look mortified, "No, no! That's not it at all it's-I-ugh!" you slump back in your chair. You let out a deep breath and sit up again, "Alright, so I believe two years ago, you and I actually met before and I made a complete fool out of myself because I tripped and ate the pavement. I busted my lip, there was lots of blood. Not a pretty sight or a cool thing to do in front of your celebrity crush."

Jamie smirks, "I'm your celebrity crush?"

You sit there in silence, mentally cursing yourself and Colin for making you go through this embarrassment again. You stand, "Right, okay, I've embarrassed myself enough. I'm leaving."

Jamie rushes to a stand, "No, please, don't. I'm only teasin' ya. It's nothin' bad, I promise. You're-You're very cute when you're flustered."

"Thanks," you murmur.

Luckily, the server came back with the most expensive bottle of wine. As soon as he poured your glass, you began downing it. Jamie watches you in amusement.

"Sorry, I just need some liquid courage to get through this."

Jamie leans forward, resting his arms on the table, "How about this, we just forget who I am for tonight. I'm not Jamie Tartt, the most amazing striker in the league. Just Jamie, a nervous lad on a date with a beautiful girl."

"You're nervous?" you ask in shock.

He shrugs, "It's been a while since I've gone on a proper date. Kinda forgot how to do this sort of stuff."

"Pft, I've gone on many dates and so far, you're the best one."

"Yeah? Tell me about 'em."

And that's how dinner goes. Over another glass and eventually over some food, you tell Jamie about your past dates. He tells you about some ridiculous things he's done with the guys when Coach Lasso was around. It was nice. It was nice knowing that Jamie wasn't here because he wanted to get close to Colin. He was there because he wanted to. You assumed he was interested in you by the way he flirted with you throughout the nice. So maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Once dinner was over, Colin came over with a pout, "Did you guys really have to order the most expensive items here?!"

"That's what you get for tricking me like that," you boop his nose and Michael snickers as he weaves his fingers through Colin's.

"But it went alright, yeah?" he looks at you and Jamie.

"I'd say so," Jame puts his hand on your lower back, "We're, uh, actually gonna head to a pub for more drinks."

"Oh! Well, uh, I think Michael and I will head on home then."

You don't want to give Colin the satisfaction just yet, so you say, "I'll text you later when I'm home."

"Sounds good," he says and pulls at Michael's hand, "Let's go, babe."

Looking over his shoulder, Michael gives you a wink and a thumbs up.

You snort and then turn to Jamie, "Ready?"

"Whenever you are, love." and you two head out onto more drinks, more talking, and, hopefully, more dates after this.

#jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader

[m00nsbaby]

Glitter & crimson.

Marc Spector x F!Reader.

Next part.

Tags - warnings. College AU, no mentions of Jake/Steven, suggestive but not smut, cheating.

For my Pedrito Pascal / Oscar Isaac girlies I’m so sorry but Joel is indeed based on Joel Miller pre-outbreak lol.

Word count. 2.1k

Summary. "Marc is clever. One word I wouldn't like to use is manipulative, but I wouldn't be lying; he knows exactly when and how to do things.” 

He knows Joel is watching, that one misplaced look and the false confidence he puts in him will be gone, so he carefully chooses his words and makes everyone else believe he would never cross the line with you.

You seemed to be in denial of the obvious, because above all the bad that could be behind that puppy face, there was the fact that he was your best friend, and you loved him, no matter if he was a good or bad person.

A talent he didn't know he had until he met your boyfriend was that of acting. Choosing which mask to wear on each occasion to his advantage.

When Joel was with you, he always kept his distance. After greeting you with a hug, you wouldn't feel Marc's hands on you again until the moment he was about to leave, giving you the most insipid hug he could manage as a way to say ‘goodbye’.

When you were alone, the story was completely different, and both, like two peas in a pod from the first time you exchanged words, spent time together as if you needed each other to breathe.

Though, for Marc, that's exactly how it felt.

The fact that Joel was older than you didn't help. Not so much older that your relationship would be something weird, rather enough for him to have slightly more adult concerns like work and taxes while you were still suffocated by university worries.

You saw each other maybe two or three times a week, but neither of you minded. (Marc didn't mind either; the farther apart he was, the better.)

"The couple of the century." Applause greeted you as both joined the party. You rolled your eyes, knowing they were just teasing, Marc, on the other hand, pretended to bow with one hand while the other rested on your lower back.

Apart from your group of friends, there were at least ten more people, nothing too wild. More like a typical party for young adults, students with enough budget to survive the next two weeks.

"Do you want something to drink?" Amidst the music and noise of the crowd, Marc had to lean in close to whisper in your ear.

His hand never left your body.

"I’ll have whatever you have." You smiled, leaning in enough for him to hear you.

You felt the stares of others fixed on you. Even at this point in your lives, you were not exempt from gossip.

And it seemed that you both were determined to feed the rumors; you, unconsciously, and Marc, enjoying pushing the narrative that you were an adorable couple without a care in the world about a guy in his 30s with a stupid job at a construction company.

When Marc returned with your drink, he sat next to you on the couch, tapped your glass before taking a sip of his, and his free hand rested on your thigh, specifically on the part where your dress didn't cover your skin.

You were used to it. To him. To his hands.

"And when will you make it official?" Someone asked, breaking the moment of intimacy between you both.

"Make what official?"

"Our thing, silly," Marc replied with a teasing smile on his lips.

"But we're not..."

"Soon," he interrupted, this time looking at the girl who had asked, someone from the classroom, one of those who said out loud how much they wanted 'a Marc in their life.'

You rolled your eyes, smiling, and quietly sipped from your glass.

You didn't question it. Little did you know that Marc took every opportunity to make you look like his to the eyes of others.

Gradually, the party started to take shape, you felt more and more crowded among the people, and the volume of the music began to rise until you couldn't continue chatting.

"Let's dance." You nodded immediately as the sofa began to fill up with strangers, and you let Marc pull your hands to get up.

"I can't stand this dress anymore." You said, adjusting the hem of it with your fingers.

"I'll help you take it off later." his lips brushed your ear as the number of people on the impromptu dance floor forced you to bump your bodies together.

"Idiot," you said, laughing, while your hands held his, and your hips began to follow the rhythm of the music slowly.

This was Marc's favorite part, even though he always ended up struggling with his tight pants for reasons beyond his control.

"Is tonight still on?" He whispered when he had you close. You were facing away from him, and your hips continued moving against your best friend's, his hands slowly traveling up and down your waist.

"When have I canceled a sleepover?" You raised your voice, looking over your shoulder at him.

Poor Marc was about to have an orgasm in the middle of his university friends, but could anyone blame him? Your body rubbed against him in that short, tight dress.

He mentally thanked the loud music for silencing his moans every time you moved to the perfect rhythm.

"I-I just wanted to be sure."

"Are you tired?" Your movements slowly stopped as you planted a kiss on his cheek. "You're sweating."

"I'm hot." It came from his throat as if someone were strangling him. He even cleared his throat. "Very."

"Let's have a drink and come back." You gave him a little push to make way for you, and he walked behind you, one hand on your hip as an excuse not to lose you among the crowd.

A sigh of relief escaped both of you when you entered the kitchen, closing the door behind you. There was no one else, and the music felt noticeably quieter.

"What do you want? I'll treat you," you joked as you looked at the grouped bottles of alcohol next to the soft drinks. You grabbed two plastic cups.

"Give me the house specialty."

"Say no more." You served two glasses of mineral water without hesitation. When Marc noticed, he couldn't help but laugh as he held his cup.

With a jump, you climbed onto the counter table, spreading your legs to make room for him. It was as if your body worked automatically when it came to Marc. Like clockwork, he settled between your legs to continue drinking from his glass.

"I can't believe I used to hate mineral water before I met you."

"It's spicy water. How could you hate it?" You tried to stifle a laugh.

He laughed with you. One of those silly laughs where the alcohol in your system speaks for you, and the dream of being with someone you love makes things twice as fun as they really are.

The laughter died down little by little, Marc rested his forehead against yours and kept his eyes closed, along with that silly smile.

"Everyone is talking about us." you whispered after a few seconds of silence.

"You're my fake girlfriend after all." you laughed again.

"You have to stop, you'll get me in trouble with Joel.” Just the mention of his name made Marc's stomach churn. He bit his lower lip to avoid saying what he really thought.

"Oh, really?" He opened his eyes again, moving his head slightly to lightly brush the tip of his nose against yours, making you smile. His fingers pressed against your thighs, and you gasped when he pulled you closer to his body with a single tug. Now you were sitting on the edge of the counter.

"Marc?" You swallowed hard when you noticed his gaze fixed on you. The playful and teasing air had suddenly vanished.

"Uh-huh?" He licked his lips, and your gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth. You had felt this kind of impulse before, but you always did your best to ignore it. Even before you met Joel.

He noticed the change in your expression and almost smiled triumphantly. After years, you were beginning to let your guard down. Without waste time; his body leaned forward, and suddenly his lips met yours. You had waited so long for this that you almost stole a moan from each other.

Marc's lips were delicious, even though it hurt you to admit it. Beyond the taste of beer and mint, you could feel him in your mouth, and that was so much more intoxicating than every drink he had prepared for you throughout the night. 

It was desperate, as if he wanted to show you just how much he had desired you over the past years. You felt his tongue exploring your mouth, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, and his hands roaming from your waist to your thighs again and again.

His jeans became uncomfortable again when he managed to make you whimper against his mouth. With you on the edge of the counter, it wasn't hard for him to push his hips against you, grazing your thigh in an attempt to find some relief to his growing boner.

For a moment, he considered it might be a dream; it wouldn't be the first time he had this kind of dream about you. But his alarm always managed to bring them back to reality just as he was about to reach the best part.

Just like now.

Oh no, wait, that wasn't his alarm.

It was your ringtone.

Like a bucket of cold water, he had to snap out of it. You pulled away from him, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged, and lips swollen and moist from Marc's hungry kisses.

"It's Joel." Of course, it was him. It was always him.

You didn't even give him a chance to fully react as you hastily escaped from his embrace and left the kitchen. It felt like the walls were closing in on you, and you felt suffocated.

The garden seemed like a better option.

"How's the party going?" Your boyfriend's cheerful voice on the other end of the line made your stomach churn.

As you licked your lips, you could still taste Marc.

"Amazing, love." You looked at the pair of guys lying on the grass, tipsy and probably about to fall asleep.

"Is Marc there with you? Will you both come back together?"

You swallowed hard.

"Yes, I... yes." A few seconds of silence. Joel was used to your chatty version, the one who started conversations in the worst situations.

"Oh..." More silence. "I'm glad, it's safer that way." His tone of voice indicated he was serious. Another blow to the stomach knowing the trust he placed in both of you. "Will I see you on Sunday?"

"Of course, love." You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a few seconds as if trying to console yourself.

"I won't interrupt you anymore, sugar." As if sweeping away that uncomfortable atmosphere, he returned to his playful and affectionate tone, one that you rarely didn't hear. "I love you, can't wait to see you."

"I love you." You were out of breath. "See you."

You waited in the yard until Marc got tired of your absence. You didn't function well without each other, and in social situations, this was no exception. He came out silently, not asking anything, and you were grateful he didn't.

He placed his red jacket over your shoulders before taking your hand, and you didn't reject him; you never could. You intertwined your fingers together, and it was you who led him to the car.

The car that belonged to both of you, if that made any sense.

The ride back home was silent.

Despite the heaviness in your chest, you couldn't help but let things flow with Marc. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't give him the cold shoulder or ask your body to feel uncomfortable with him.

Both of you prepared to sleep in the usual way. He didn't look back as you took off your dress, and you stood side by side at the sink while brushing your teeth. He did his best to ignore that you were wearing Joel's T-shirt to sleep for days now.

With a gentle push from Marc when it was time to go to bed, you laughed a little and felt a bit more at home with his company.

You followed the routine; he opened his arms to welcome your body, and you snuggled up to him as closely as possible. The way he held you made you sigh with relief.

This was definitely your favorite place. Your home was in Marc Spector's arms.

"I love you, you know that, right?" He whispered in your ear, silently praying that his scent would linger in Joel's stupid shirt.

You nodded slowly, unable to contain your smile.

"I know, Marc." A shiver ran down his spine as he felt your breath on his neck. "I love you too."

If only you said it in the way he wished.

He fell silent when the screen of your phone lit up, partially illuminating the room. He squinted slightly and, as he identified the small heart on the contact name of the text message, he knew who it was from.

Rolling his eyes, he tightened his hold on you, eliciting a playful groan from you. He kissed your hair before snuggling with you, a smile on his face.

Was this going to become a competition? Then so be it.

#Moon Knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon boys #moon boys x reader #moon boys x you #Moon System #moon system x reader #moon system x you #marc spector #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #Steven Grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #Oscar Isaac #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you

[babytarttdoodoo]

Can you write one of Jamie showing up to training sick and the team has to convince him to go home? Then someone takes him home (I want it to be Roy even though Roy probably shouldn't leave training when he's in charge for Roy/Jamie shipping reasons, but all the lads wanting to care of him would also be nice)

Who needs realism when we can have fluff? I went a bit off script but I hope you still enjoy it.

Thank you for the prompt!

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

Isaac was generally the first player to arrive for training at Nelson Road. He tried to set a good example, being captain and all that.

Jamie, despite living closer to the grounds than most, usually strolled in with less than 10 minutes left to get changed and out on the field.

It used to annoy members of the team, Isaac included. These days, he knew that Jamie and Roy had extra early workout sessions together and that Jamie was just genuinely awful at managing his time in the mornings. It was fine - he never held anyone else up.

But it was therefore extremely surprising to find him in the locker room a full hour before training was due to start, dressed to play and slumped halfway into his cubby.

“Alright, bruv?” Isaac gave him a cautious nod and dropped his stuff at his section of the bench. “What are you doing here?”

Jamie was slow to answer, blinking bleary eyes at Isaac and apparently needing a minute to take in the question.

He sniffed. “... training, innit?”

“Yeah…” Isaac affirmed, frowning at his rough voice and general dishevelled state. “Don’t normally see you this early, though.”

Jamie hummed and nodded like that was a fair observation.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Well, that probably went some way to explaining the state of him. There were dark smudges under Jamie’s eyes and his hair, rather than carefully styled in the swept-back quiff he’d taken to lately, hung limp and unkempt over his forehead.

He looked kind of terrible, actually.

Roy wouldn’t have let him come in if there was anything seriously wrong, though. That much, Isaac was sure of.

He hadn’t been overly surprised when the pair had told the team they were together. There had always been a weird level of intensity between the two and more than one person over the years had quietly speculated that at least some of it was down to sexual tension.

Any worries about how it would affect team dynamics had simmered down quick enough, too. If anything, they both seemed to overcompensate at work to make sure they couldn’t be accused of dropping the ball, so to speak.

But they did obviously spend their mornings together, training or otherwise, even if they arrived on different schedules. And though Roy was still hard on Jamie as a coach, he was also exceedingly protective as a boyfriend.

If something more than a bad night’s sleep were at play, he would have insisted Jamie stayed home.

Still, Isaac kept a careful eye and ear out while he went through his routine of getting ready. It probably wouldn’t be the worst thing for Jamie to fall asleep where he sat and get a quick nap in, but it was best to be ready to catch him if he toppled off the bench in the process.

Dani was the next to arrive, far too perky for the early hour and seemingly not phased by Jamie’s presence. His smile did dim at the lack of response to his bright greeting but Isaac caught his eye and gestured for him to keep it down a bit.

The message was received and passed on through silent glances and elaborate head tilts as more players filtered in, a collective effort to let Jamie close his eyes and snooze overriding the usual rambunctious atmosphere. Isaac was very proud.

Nate was the first of the coaching staff to arrive. He looked confused at the lack of rabble in the room and his gaze followed everyone else’s to see Jamie snoring softly. They all shushed him frantically when he opened his mouth to clearly try and rouse him.

Isaac, Sam and Colin beckoned him over to the other side of the room.

“What’s up with Jamie?” he asked quietly, looking between them.

“Just said he didn’t sleep well.” Isaac shrugged. “He was in before me. Seemed kind of out of it.”

“He doesn’t look alright.” Colin put in, frowning over at their pale and sleeping teammate.

“Have you heard from Roy today?” Sam asked Nate, worry pinching the corners of his eyes. “He must know if something is wrong.”

“I haven’t.” Nate checked his phone but shook his head. “No, nothing. They don’t always come in together, though.”

“But they train in the mornings.” Dani whisper-shouted from his end of the bench, clearly listening in and echoing Isaac’s own thought processes from earlier.

“It could be that Jamie did not sleep because they had a fight…?” Richard ventured reluctantly, holding up his hands in defence when the room hissed at him in disgust. “Just a suggestion!”

“If Jamie were angry or upset, he would be running laps or sulking, not sleeping.” Sam pointed out.

“And they wouldn’t bring that shit into work.” Isaac stated with surety.

Nate looked back at Jamie and checked the time on his watch.

“We’ll need to wake him up soon and make sure he’s okay. He can’t just sleep in here all day.” He peered over into the coaches’ office and looked relieved to see movement. “I think Beard’s arrived - I’ll go see if he’s got any ideas.”

The air of respectful quiet had shifted to uncertain worry as everyone started to question, internally or amongst themselves, exactly why Jamie was so exhausted. He didn’t have the best track record with open communication when something was wrong.

Could there be something up between him and Roy?

As if on cue, their manager stalked into the locker room and was immediately taken aback by the subdued environment. He stopped dead in the doorway and scowled.

“What the fuck’s up with you lot?”

“Roy?” Jamie stirred and opened his eyes to a squint in search of the familiar voice. Roy’s head immediately snapped to the side and took in Jamie’s half-reclined form.

“You look like shit.” Only years of experience let Isaac pick up on the surprise and concern in Roy’s voice. Vague worries about trouble in paradise dissipated immediately.

Jamie - predictably - pouted up at him. “‘S not nice.”

The slurred speech sent Roy’s eyebrows flying up in alarm and his emotions suddenly became a lot more visible to the untrained eye. He quickly pressed the back of his hand against Jamie’s forehead, cursing quietly at whatever he felt there.

“Fucking hell, Jamie. You could have called me.”

“Were you not together?” Sam asked, now also clearly edging back towards distress. Nate and Beard emerged from the office at the new wave of commotion.

Roy shook his head. “No. Phoebe’s been staying at mine while she’s off school with the flu. Told this idiot to go home last night and get some proper sleep.”

He sighed and, despite his harsh words, gently smoothed back Jamie’s hair.

“You’re supposed to tell someone when you catch the plague, you muppet.”

Jamie just whined pitifully and leaned into the contact so hard he almost slumped right off the bench. Half the team jolted in place with aborted attempts to catch him.

Roy was right there, though, and easily tipped him back to a safe sitting position, grip steady.

“Alright, prima donna. Let’s get you home.” He looked over to Nate and Beard. “You two good to get things started? I can be back in an hour or two.”

“Take your time.” Beard gave him a firm nod and Nate mumbled his agreement, brow furrowed at the scene. “We got this.”

Declan swept in to help pack up Jamie’s things as Roy cajoled him to his feet and slid an arm around his waist to keep him upright. He accepted the duffle bag with a grateful grunt and started shuffling his boyfriend towards the exit.

“Let us know if you need anything, yeah?” Isaac demanded when they were finally underway.

Roy looked back over his shoulder and half-smiled at the room of worried eyes staring back at him. “Will do, captain. Keep an eye on the rest of them for me.”

#this is my petition to let Jamie just rest #my fic #fic prompts #jamie tartt #roy kent #isaac mcadoo #sam obisanya #colin hughes #nate shelley #coach beard #dani rojas #richard montlaur #richmond himbos #ted lasso

[cybrpwup]

ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ || ꜱᴏꜰᴛᴡɪʟʟʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Softwilly x f!reader !

Warnings: smut, angst, unprotected sex, riding, sub Nick maybe a little?, language summary: Nick and Y/n get into a fight :( requested?: yes ! ↳ “perhaps a softwilly / f reader smut, maybe quite like angsty“

Not even an hour after his girlfriend left did Nick become so overwhelmed with guilt that he was out of bed and standing in Y/N’s doorway with head in hands and a million apologies. She gauged his sincerity with brows furrowed in thought. Nick sniffled, stifling tears as he watched her watch him.

He was an absolute wreck: beyond the dark bags and prominent veins in his eyes, there was something else, something besides regret: deep, unsettling fear. Nick was afraid that his outburst would be it for him that Y/N would realize how pathetic and shit he was (or at least he thought himself to be); he feared she would leave.

Y/N stepped forward and placed a chaste kiss to his lips, accepting his apologies. Nick continued to spend the next two weeks, making an effort every hour of every day to do or brainstorm what he could do to regain her trust completely. Never wanting her to think he could or would go off on her again.

Twitter - Y/Username · 202X-12-10 “I’m going off social media for a couple of days. If I survive, you will be hearing from me next week. #staysafe”

Nick read the tweet over again. It was not the most outlandish thing ever for someone to go on a break from social media's toxic environment and especially from twitter. No. It was not the most outlandish thing ever, but it was enough – the tweet, the wording, the timing – for a certain degree of concern.

When Y/N did not pick-up his call – Nick thought maybe she was in the shower.

And when Y/N did not reply to his texts – he considered her phone might be on silent.

And when Y/N did not respond to either in six hours – he wondered if she might want time to herself.

And when Y/N had not reached out to him in eighteen hours – Nick went to her apartment.

Y/N opened her front door as if in slow motion, giving Nick time to take her all in. Apart from some baggier joggers than usual, a shirt with dye or some other dark stain around the collar, and untidied hair, she looked…well…normal. And that was good, right? He went to see her because he was worried and there she was looking fine and safe and like herself.

“Hi,” she spoke low but not timid.

Both stood for a breath in silence, looking at each other. More so, Alex felt he was looking at Y/N, and, while her eyes were meeting his, she herself was not. A thousand-yard stare, that is what people called that type of look, but Alex never thought he saw it in person until he saw it from Y/N.

Nick sighed with relief. “Hi, babe.”

He asked, “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Y/N backed up from the door allowing her boyfriend a few steps inside.

“I got you some breakfast; it’s your favourite,” Nick forced a chipper tone into his voice as he brought the bag he was holding low to his side, up near his face, and smiled like he was posing for a deliveroo advert. “I’ll plate it for you if you want.”

“I already ate cereal this morning.” Y/N dropped her gaze and headed towards the living room; she added an apathetic, “Thanks, though.”

Nick took the food to Y/N’s kitchen and put it in the fridge. He returned to see Y/N sat on her sofa, flipping through her continue watching list on netflix; he sat down beside her.

He asked, “What are you watching?”

“I don’t know.”

“We could watch something together.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “I’ll grab a blanket, and we can cuddle – you love that. What’s that movie you wanted to show me, remember, the one we were gonna watch on your birthday but weren’t able to? You remember the name?”

Y/N sighed, not taking her eyes off the screen. “We didn’t get to watch it because something happened with that week’s footage, and you were in a panic call with Isaac and them for three hours.”

“Oh. Right, right,” Nick said more to himself.

All the lights in the room were switched off. It would have been pitch black in the space if not for the bright screen and all the window curtains being drawn, letting in the somewhat obscured natural light of the chill morning. Nick watched as Y/N clicked through her continue watching list to the end and then started over again. Her grip on the remote was loose, and her eyes uncaring.

He said, “You seem tense. I could run you a bath, would you like that? It’d be nice and warm, relaxing. Put bubble bath or a bath bomb in there – make it smell nice.”

“No.” Y/N’s jaw became rigid as she spoke through her teeth, “Please don’t.”

“Last time you were down like this, you liked it when I ran you a bath.”

“Yeah?” Y/N spun her head to face him as her face took on an all-over wicked expression, her shoulders stiffened as if she were about to jump into a fighting stance; with a cruel curled lip, she continued, “Well, last time you were ‘like this,’ you yelled in my face telling me to fuck off.”

A small whimper escaped Nick’s mouth at the change, and for the first time that morning, it was him who dropped eye-contact. He babbled out, “I thought we were past that. I apologized; I didn’t mean it. It just happened.”

“No, it didn’t!” Y/N yelled and took to her feet. “Nothing we do ‘just happens.’ No matter how quick the decision was – you chose to shout at me. In that half-second before, you knew what you were going to do – you knew you were going to lash out – and you knew it was going to be at me. And a half-second is a hell of a long time for you to have backed out, for you to have not done it, but you did.”

Y/N moved to face out a window, away from Nick; she sighed a long sigh that ended with a hiccup. A near minute passed before she turned around, with eyes wet enough to shine even in the low light. She said, “It sucks. It sucks because we didn’t choose to be how we are, and we did nothing to deserve it. But no matter how screwed up the chemical balance in your brain is, you’re still responsible for your actions, Nick. You being here now, playing nurse or whatever, that doesn’t change what happened.”

“Neither does being cold and pushing me away.” Nick jumped to his feet as well; he stood still, gesturing with palm-open hands as he spoke. “You need support right now, even if you’re too stubborn or proud to admit it. Or maybe you feel like it would make you a burden to reach out. You’re not a burden, Y/N.”

He searched her eyes for a break in their hardness as he continued, “Just because you feel something, doesn’t mean it’s true. And that sounds so simple a concept to grasp, but you and I both know it’s not. I’m trying to grow and learn as well. I am. I’m not here to try and further make things up to you – I’d like to be able to, but that is not what I’m doing right now. I’m here because if I were to walk out now, knowing how upset you were, I would hate—” his voice breaks on the last word, and he starts over, “I would hate myself even more than I already do.”

“Nick, I—”

“You can hate me, Y/N.” A tear slips over his waterline. “I’d understand if you did, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m here for you. I’m always here for you.”

Y/N crossed the room and crashed into Nick in an embrace that should have left one or the other bruised. Both clung to one another tighter than ever before. And as Y/N had her hands wrapped around him, she felt how Nicks shoulder shook slightly. It was comforting to know that it was not just her who was struck with emotion, who was being vulnerable; it was them together. As it should be

“You really hurt me, Nick,” Y/N said, her words muffled from how she buried her face in his shoulder.

He kissed her hair and whispered back, “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Nick’s eyes met hers, lowering his face and pressing his lips on her soft skin. His lips met hers, and so does his other hand on the side of her face. The kiss is sweet, soft and screams “I’m sorry.”, “I’m so stupid.” and “I’ll never do it again.”

It should have been a quick small kiss but when she started to pull away, Nick wasn't ready to let go. Pulling her head forward, he leaned into her lips with a groan.

He hovered over her, his lips pressing kisses to her neck. When his lips touched the part of her neck that melted her insides, she gently sighed.

"Is this okay?" Nick mumbled against her jaw and it felt like her brain could short-circuiting. His lips felt heavenly against her skin, making goosebumps rise in his wake.

"Yes, this is perfect. Keep going." She softly urged. His hands found her stomach before they wandered more, it's the only way he’d be able to learn how to navigate her body. His hands slid up her body, feeling the hem of her bralette before sliding around her back. His lips met hers in a languid kiss- soft and slow. She moaned softly against him as he pressed his hips into hers, the pressure pushing his growing hard on against her heat. The sounds she was beginning to make sent shockwaves of pleasure through him, heating him up from the inside.

Her arms quickly wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to her, despite her feet tippy toeing to reach his tall figure. He lifted her off the floor and her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist she could feel his long fingers pressed against her skin through her joggers. As swollen lips were reuniting, he gestured her hips against his firm waist causing her to let out a whimper. The sudden friction against her core caused warmness to travel all across her body.

His fingers found the back of her bralette and he could only hope he could figure out how to get the clasp undone. He distracted her with his lips and by gently grinding his cock against her, the heat coming from between her legs making him so hard it hurt. Thankfully, the clasp popped open and he pulled the fabric off of her body.

As Nick’s lips and hands wandered her body, an even more explicit feeling coursed through her veins. She wanted- no, needed more of him.

“Nick,” She let out softly as she continued to rock herself against his hard on, all the tension she’s had for the past month soothed against her pants.

“We’ll talk about it later.” He whispered in response. And with that she was content with what was happening. She nodded and pressed her lips against his cheek.

Their eyes met and It felt like they were in a trance. She lifted her head towards the hall, non-verbally telling him to take them to her room. He smiled and turned his body towards the room.

She fell back onto the bed, her legs leaving space for Nick to lay between them. She made a sound that matched his, and quickly things intensified. Shamelessly, Y/n and Nick indulge in each other's bodies. Completely forgetting the prior conflict and now instead focusing on the feeling of grinding against each other. The layers of fabric and underwear creating more sensitivity and friction, quickly working both of them up.

Once Nick had Y/n laid out for his display, he took her all in. He never usually took the time to admire her and he took all the time now he didn’t before to take her in.

"You're so perfect, Y/n." He whispered, his eyes drifting over every inch of bare skin presented to him. Her cheeks flush even deeper as she whispered back a quiet 'thank you' before he reaches down to spread her legs wide for him to slot himself between and her arms loop around his bare shoulders.

Taking a break from the borderline make out session the two of them were having, Nick struggled to keep his composure. Breaking away from the girls lips every few seconds to replace the breath of air that was lacking from his lungs before deciding he wanted to actually breathe and moved onto her neck. Placing his forearms at either side of her head as he peppers the underside of her jaw with his lips. She let out a moan and squirmed in response, Nick chuckles between kisses.

“You like that, huh?” He whispered against her skin.

She did. Of course she did, but there was no reason for Nick to gloat about it. An idea formed in her mind, and a smile painted her face, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him closer. It caught Nick by surprise and his arms weaken, pressing her body more into his growing bulge, she slowed her hip movements and he attempts to use his hands to steady himself, but he fails and falls back onto her.

“Fuck.” He groaned beside her ear, and she bit her lip in arousal.

“Yeah?” She whispered in a condescending tone. “Yeah, you like that huh?” She mocked his previous words, and Nick struggled to say anything.

Right then he was all moans and whimpers. That along with his sweet words of encouragement to keep her hips moving. Breathless quick, “Just like that.” and “Keep going.”

She really let him enjoy the moment, but now that she was in control, she definitely hadn't forgotten about the fight. That and Nick’s bullshit reasoning. Sure, she believed him, but regardless, the whole situation was still on her mind. Now a bit annoyed as well as turned on by her boyfriend, she releases Nick from her grasp and for him the denial is instant.

“What th-” He whined, but it's quickly cut off by Nick being pushed onto his back.

Already desperate for the other’s touch, clothes are swiftly discarded before getting a new position. One where she was on top of Nick.

“Are you sure you wanna do it like this?” He reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear

“I wouldn’t get in this position if I wasn't sure.” She told with an underlying attitude he was too distracted to pick up on.

Slowly, with patience and lots of little and not too little noises, she sunk herself onto Nick. A moment passed to get used to the position before she could start moving. And already Nick was struggling to keep up with her - normally it started slow and things would progress based on the both of them. But right now, she was throwing that out the window and instead doing this the way she wanted to. And truthfully, Nick didn't mind one bit.

He adored watching her on top of him, a new found favorite position discovered. Moans of names left their lips as Nick’s thumb swept against her nipple and Y/N felt a ray of lightning hit her core. He could feel her nipple hardening at his touch as he proceeded to do the same with the other nub. As he toyed with Y/N’s breasts he lowered a hand to her hip, guiding her down onto his hard dick and with the impact of both of their cores meeting they both let out groans, not daring to stop the growing feeling of impending orgasm in both their stomachs.

“Fuck.” The word is sharp and quick. “Fuck, fuc-ahh just uh- like- that. Just like that.” He encourages her.

“Promise me you’re never gonna do anything that stupid again.” She blurted out him, mind partially still on the situation.

“I won’t.” Nick whined.

“And you’re not gonna yell at me.”

“No n-never.” He reassures.

With Nick’s promise in mind, she pressed a kiss to his lips, feeling the coil wind tighter until it snapped, and her back arched with a silent moan. She clamped and convulsed against him as Nick chased his own orgasm, pulling her hips down harsher. For those seconds of pure bliss and pleasure, she thought about nothing but her boyfriend. Not as the guy who hurt her. Or ruined her birthday by not watching a movie with her. But as her boyfriend. Her Nick.

Feeling her gush continuously around him drove him over the edge and he slammed into her, stilling as he came inside. She moaned as she felt him fill her up. Once down from his high, she climbed off him and laid beside him, exhausted.

“Are you gonna do this every time we argue ?” He asks between breaths once the post orgasm clarity hits, his chest rising and falling.

“Next time,” she said with a chuckle, “I’m kicking you out”

#softwilly #softwilly x reader #the group chat #the groupchat #the group chat podcast #the group chat x reader #tgc x reader #isaacwhy x reader #isaacwhy

[nobunagas-chatelaine]

Ikemen Vampire reaction to MC wanting a hug from them

1. Napoleon Bonaparte

He'd rub his eye open and give you a sleepy half hug but then his arms would fall on the small of your back and Napoleon would instantly pull you inside the covers with him. He then shows you a naughty smirk as he tickles your sides -

"Lay with me for awhile Nunuche"

2. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

He hugs you grumpily saying that he was busy composing pieces and kisses your head. You giggle at your cute boyfriend and tiptoe to kiss him but he moves away and inspects your face -

"What's with the sudden affection are you feeling unwell?"

3. Leonardo Da Vinci

He chuckles when you ask him that and still picks you up in his arms and places playful kisses across your shoulder and collarbones. You two then end up making out only to find Sebastian looking at you wide-eyed-

"I guess they found out about our little secret cara mia"

4. Arthur Conan Doyle

He moves side to side and plays hard to get so you two end up chasing each other in the garden and at last you spring out from a bush and tackle him down and give him a nice and long smooch-

"Luv, if you wanted me that bad you could've just said so."

5. Isaac Newton

Surprisingly Isaac smiles at you and pulls you to his chest his exhaustion long forgotten. He strokes the sides of your face and goes to sleep hugging you like that.

"Sleep well my darling"

6. Jean D' Arc

Jean wasn't a big fan of cuddles early on in the relationship but now he'll paractically melt if you hug him. Your lovely smell relaxing him.

"Don't tell this to anyone but I find your hugs very comforting."

7. Comte De Saint Germain

He smiles at you and hugs you tight. Maybe he'll procrastinate his paper work for a while and snuggle with you. *Wink wonk*

"You know you don't have to ask for a hug right, cherie?"

8. Sebastian/ Akihiko Satou

He's a busy man so he'll give you a quick hug and place a soft kiss on your brow showing you a guilty smile. You can't blame him though, it sure is hard taking care of a mansion full of vampires.

"Allow me 5 more minutes my love, I'll attend to you shortly."

9. William Shakespeare

He knew you were under the weather so it doesn't take much time for him to spread his arms wide for you and cradles your face in his hands placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"Fair maiden of mine, do tell what is the reason behind all your worries."

10. Vincent Van Gogh

He puts down his paintbrush and gives you a bright smile. He kisses you on the cheek and hugs you tight, still giving light kisses on your nape and ears.

"Would you like to see me paint my Schatje ?"

11. Theodorous Van Gogh

He blushes and grumbles how you shouldn't be doing things like this and just hug him whenever you like. Lets you sit on his lap and play with his hair.

"Don't mess up my hair too much Hondje, or I'll have to tickle you down."

12. Dazai Osamu

The writer picks you up spins you around as sounds of pure joy erupt from both of you. He sets you down and gives you an adorable bear hug, his hugs sure are the best.

"You're real adorable, you know that right?"

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire x reader #ikevamp x reader #ikemen vampire imagine #ikevamp imagine #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikemen vampire napoleon x reader #ikemen vampire mozart #ikemen vampire mozart x reader #ikemen vampire arthur #ikemen vampire arthur x reader #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikemen vampire leonardo x reader #ikemen vampire vincent #ikemen vampire vincent x reader #\ikemen vampire theodorous #ikemen vampire theodorous x reader #ikemen vampire jean #ikemen vampire jean x reader #ikemen vampire dazai #ikemen vampire dazai x reader #ikemen vampire sebastian #ikemen vampire sebastian x reader #ikemen vampire comte #ikemen vampire comte x reader #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikemen vampire shakespeare x reader

[strsburn]

every little thing | jonathan levy (18+)

pairing - jonathan levy x fem reader

synopsis - in which hearts are mended

see also - when two broken people meet and find that their sharp edges connect

warnings - this fic will contain sexual content at one point so

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ CONTENT

notes - i am in love with oscar isaac your honor. i watched scenes from a marriage and honestly i think mira was very toxic and manipulative and honestly if jonathan was given a proper chance to heal and move on, i feel like his character would have developed more. that being said, i am ignoring how episode five ended and writing this x

tagging ( my favs ) @wint3r-h3art @tmholland @buckybleu @tom-whore-dleston @crazycookiecrumbles

@giona45-5

"This isn't working anymore." Your fork clattered as your hand went limp from shock, the sound that would normally cause you to wince fading to the back burner of your mind as you stared at your boyfriend in shock.

"W-what do you mean?" You cursed yourself mentally as the last word came out in a choked whisper, your emotions rising to the surface. Dean sighed, chewing on a pasta noodle thoughtfully as he waved his fork around nonchalantly.

"Look, it was fun in the beginning. You know, going out, holding hands, yada-yada, but," he paused to put his fork down, a hand coming to rest on his abdomen as he leaned back to shrug at you carelessly "You're too boring, alright. You don't like to go to parties, you like to stay in and read, you never want to try anything new in bed, honestly, how long did you think this could go on for?"

You can only stare, your cheeks flushing with humiliation as all your insecurities are laid out before you. Dean sighs at your silence, standing up as he pushes his chair in and folds his used napkin over his plate. He comes over to your side and lays a kiss on your cheek, and suddenly what once felt like a show of affection was now a branded mark of condescension.

"Dinner was good babe, no hard feelings right? Don't worry about my stuff, Josh will come to pick it up next week. Alright, later." In the blink of an eye, he's gone and you're left in silence, your shared apartment suddenly feeling too big.

 ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

The breeze is a welcome sensation on your heated skin as you relax on the park bench.

It's been two weeks since your cruel and abrupt breakup and you were still reeling from the grief of it all, opting for more time spent at the park to escape the haunting reality.

You looked up as your heard shuffling footsteps, your eyes stopping on a little girl no older than nine who was wondering around without a care in the world.

You waited to see if an adult would come along who was accompanying her but when she remained alone and unsupervised you grew concerned. A park was the perfect place for a kid to be snatched up and you would not be one to turn a blind eye.

Smoothing down your skirt, you stood from the bench and approached slowly not wanting to scare the girl or be seen as a threat.

"Hello." You greeted her. She paused to see who addressed her before offering a bright grin that sent your heart melting.

"Hi." She giggled. You looked around once more to see if anyone had come searching for their daughter before you spoke once again.

"What are you doing out here by yourself kiddo? Where's your mom or dad?" At your question her shoulders seemed to sag slightly as she sighed.

"Well, my mom isn't here but my dad is. I was supposed to stay in his sight but he had to take a phone call real quick, I waited until his back was turned to explore and now I'm lost."

You had to bite back a laugh as she made hand motions with her explanation her lips set in a dramatic pout.

"Alright, well, maybe you can tell me what your dad looks like and we can try and find him okay?" You asked.

She squinted her eyes in thought as she looked at you with playful suspicious.

"My dad said I shouldn't talk to strangers." She retorted. You nodded in understanding, even as you thought it was a false cause considering she had already given you more information than a simple name would do.

You gave her your name before holding a hand out as she shook it firmly.

"My name is Ava." She quickly began to give you a rough description of her dad. Tall, wearing glasses, curly hair and an itchy beard. Very vague but enough to work with.

You held her hand as you both searched for the man who matched the description. As you moved along you suddenly heard faint shouting as a panicked voice echoed in the shrubs.

"Ava! God, where are you?! Ava!"

Ava perked up at her name and you turned around as who you perceived to be her dad came running up. You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep your jaw from dropping as the single most handsome man you had ever seen stepped into view.

Dark curls decorated with hints of grey lay atop his head, his chin sporting a matching thick beard, equally dark brown eyes framed by gold wired glasses and an outfit of corduroy pants and a button up seemed to polish off the english professor look.

Relief coated his features as he spotted Ava, her hand letting go of yours as she ran to meet him with a hug. You watched in silence as he held her close, pulling back as worried frown replaced his relieved smile.

"You know better than to take off like that Ava, god something could have happened to you." He pulled her back into a hug as she murmured apologies.

It was then he seemed to notice you as he quickly stood up, taking his daughter's hand.

"Thank you for keeping her safe." He smiled, his whole face lighting up with the gesture. You could easily see where his daughter had gotten the smile.

"It was no worries at all, I was happy to help." You nodded as he offered a hand.

"I'm Jonathan, Jonathan Levy. Can I buy you a cup of a coffee as a thank you?" He reached for his pocket as if looking for his wallet and you waved your hands out, abashed.

"No that's okay! That's not necessary." You told him.

He smirked then, rubbing a hand over his beard as he adjusted his glasses and you felt butterflies flit around your stomach nervously.

"Alright well, then can I buy you a coffee just to see you again?"

You were a goner.

  ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

Your first date went great, Jonathan and you seemed to click just like that and while you were admittedly worried that he was married due to the presence of his daughter he was swift to assure you that he had been divorced for a while now.

He proceeded to open up about his failed marriage and even discussed a time in his life where he had grown so callous with his relationships that he had married again out of necessity rather than desire when a one night stand resulted in a pregnancy. He admitted that through this time he had openly cheated on his wife with his ex, nonchalant about if he was caught or not.

While his honesty was appreciated you were hesitant about starting a relationship due to his previous relationships and the failure of your own, and you divulged that.

Jonathan understood your worries and the two of you discussed a trial run, where you two would start off with small dates to see where things led off and most importantly that you both would be open to communication about anything and everything.

Which led to now.

"Are you serious? He actually said that?" Jonathan asked in disbelief, eyebrows raising so high they disappeared into his curls.

You nodded as you sipped your chai latte, the taste earning a pleased hum as you took another sip before placing the cup down.

"Yup, I was so shocked I just sat there as he proceeded to thank me for the dinner and hightail it out of there." You shook your head.

You and Jonathan had been discussing your traumatic past relationships and how they went down and instead of causing the mood to sour it helped strengthen the bond between you two as you both understood what it meant to move on from those painful events.

"That's such a fucking shitty move." Jonathan chuckled as he took a sip of his black coffee. He proceeded to adjust his glasses and you had to bite back a smile which he noticed.

"What?" He laughed nervously not knowing if you were poking fun at him.

"Nothing, I just laugh when you do that. It's cute." You told him, motioning to how he adjusted his glasses.

His eyebrows furrowed and you were worried that you'd somehow made him subconscious or upset but he looked up at you with soft eyes and a bright smile as he admitted

"That's actually really sweet, I've got a lot of quirks and things I do out of nervousness or habit and Mira always found them annoying or would laugh about it. You just embrace it, thank you." He told you, picking up your hand to lay a gentle kiss across your knuckles and you felt your heartbeat skip.

You hoped these trial runs worked out because you didnt know if you could handle the heartbreak of having to let this man go.

  ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

Six months had passed since your trial run had ended and you found yourself in a steady relationship with Jonathan.

You both had grown closer since being so open with one another and any fights you both had were resolved easily once you gave each other some space and then talked it out.

Ava loved you and you returned the sentiment and you even got to meet Ethan and Jane who would come over on the occasional holiday or birthday. Things were still tense with Jonathan and his former wife but they remained civil especially when dropping off or picking up their son. Ethan had declared he liked you after you had gotten him a baby yoda toy after his favorite movie character.

You still had yet to meet Mira who would come to pick up or drop off Ava while you were at work. Jonathan had asked if you would rather be there when she came but you reassured him that you trusted him to be alone with her and he had looked at you with such adoration in his eyes you had to look away as heat rushed to your cheeks.

The two of you had yet to say the big L word but you were not worried as you knew you both shared the same history when it came to that aspect of a relationship.

When it came down to it you knew full heartedly that you were in love with Jonathan and every little thing about him. Every flaw and imperfection only made you more crazy for him.

"Hey babe?" His voice brought you out of your reverie and you looked up from the pages of your novel to his worried face.

"Yeah, love." You replied closing your book and putting it aside to show him he had your full undivided attention.

He smiled at that, recognizing the show of respect and held his phone up.

"Mira wants to know about picking Ava up for the whole weekend, she wants to treat her to a girls day." You smiled at the fact he was involving you in such a decision and recognized that at the same time he wanted to be sure you would be comfortable as this would be the first time you would be meeting Mira.

"Of course that's alright. Thank you for asking first baby, tell her she's welcome to stay for dinner as well. I'm making chicken tortellini." You grinned as he punched the air in celebration at the mention of your cooking and nodded his head dutifull, sending the text out.

"Great, now come here. I need some quality Jonathan time." You held your arms out and he obliged as he laid his head down on your lap.

"God, I love you." He moaned when your fingers scraped softly against his scalp and you felt him tense as he realized what he just said. You pulled back to look at him as he avoided your gaze, your eyes softening as you recognized the doubt rising to the surface.

"Jonathan can you look at me please?" You asked softly as he slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze.

When he met your eyes, you brought your hand up to brush a curl away from his face, stroking his cheek with care as he leaned into the touch.

"I love you so much, Jonathan. I know it seems soon to say such but there is no other way to describe how deeply I feel for you. I love every little thing about you. The way you rest your chin into your palm when you're sleepy but want to hear what someone has to say, or when you get nervous and fidget with your glasses. The way you listen to soothing nature sounds when you can't fall asleep. How frustrated you get when you have a lecture and forget your notes, every little thing you doubt about yourself or don't like, I love about you because it makes you you. I wouldn't have you any other way."

You watch as his eyes fill up with tears and you catch them with your thumb wiping them away as he sits up to pull you into a kiss.

  ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

Meeting Mira had been an interesting experience. You could tell she disliked you simply for the fact that you were with Jonathan and the control she once had on him was no longer in tact.

It didn't help that her daughter was smitten with you as was his son and ex wife who got along well with you. The cherry on the top of the cake was the fact that Jonathan was so deeply in love with you that any thoughts he once had of being with Mira were long gone.

You had seen the frustration in her eyes when she tried to flirt with him in front of you and instead of growing angry you only calmly asked that she keep that behavior for someone who wanted it, which was proven true as Jonathan had put an end to her advances by removing her arms or deflecting her remarks.

She had quickly left after that, angrily grabbing Ava's bags to bring to the car as you calmly assured Ava that she wasn't at fault. You made sure to kiss and hug her goodbye as you gave her your number so she could call anytime she wanted.

The two had left after that and you and Jonathan had retired to the living room where you were leisurely sipping on wine.

"That wasn't a complete disaster." Jonathan remarked and you laughed as you set your wine glass down, your boyfriend mimicking you as he turned to face you.

You leaned into him, the two of you kissing softly as you both began to explore one another, your hands running up and down his arms as his grazed your thighs and waist.

He pulled you onto his lap as you panted into his mouth, grabbing onto his curls with force and causing a whine to escape him.

Your panties instantly dampened at the sound and you began to grind on his length through the thin fabric separating you.

"Fuck." He let out when you bucked your hips into him, the contact making his cock jump through his jeans.

He lifted you up and placed you on the couch as he kneeled before you, slowly sliding your skirt down and your panties with it.

He lifted your leg to rest on the couch, opening you up for him as he blew on your pussy, the cold air causing you to clench around on nothing as you whined.

He used his index finger to circle your clit as he pulled your lips apart and kissed you directly on it, his tongue entering you swiftly.

"Shit, oh my god." You cried out as your back arched, your hands clutching at his head as you moaned wantonly.

You felt him smirk against you as he bit your clit gently, reveling in the high pitched scream you let out as he ate your pussy out like it was his last meal.

You jumped as you felt him enter his index finger into you, the thickness of it causing your walls to clamp down on him in pleasure and your walls squeezed around him.

"You like that baby, I can tell by how tightly you're squeezing on my finger. Tell me baby, how am I making you feel?" He demanded as he thrusted his finger deeper, slipping it out to add two more as he thrust them deep and scissored them, stretching you open.

You spasmed, your legs nearly falling from the couch as he held your leg down with one hand.

"Fuck, you make me feel so good, Jonathan. S-so fucking good." You whimpered out as you felt your core tighten sensing your incoming release.

With a pleased hum, he thrusted hard against the soft spot of your inner wall sending you over the edge.

You cried out as your walls clenched on his fingers, your legs spasming as your back arched and your cum gushed over his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, lifting them to his mouth but before he could lick what you had to offer you pulled his hand towards you, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sucking them deeply as you whirled your tongue around each digit to collect your release.

His mouth hung slightly open as he watched you and you could feel him rut into the couch as his pants tightened even farther. His cock restrained in the material.

As soon as your lips left his fingers he grabbed your head between his hands and kissed you hungrily, a groan escaping him as he tasted you in the kiss.

You moaned into him and lowered your hand cupping him through his jeans. You grabbed at the waist of his pants and tugged as he distractedly shoved his pants off his legs, his boxers following.

He picked you up and laid you on the couch as he bent over you, circling his cock on your clit causing you to twitch.

"Condom?" He asked and you shook your head as you pulled him on top of you, his weight causing you to moan.

"On the pill." You supplied, he nodded as you pushed a hand on his chest softly to remove your shirt and bra as he swiftly yanked his shirt off and tossed it aside as you did the same, uncaring as to where they landed.

You whined as he gripped your breasts firmly, bending down to take your nipple into his mouth as he caressed the other.

He let go with a soft pop to slap one softly as you gasped at the action.

"I'll play with these later, right now I need to be inside you." You bit your lip at the promise and kept your gaze on him as he lined his cock up and entered you slowly.

You moaned brokenly as he continued to move inside you, his entire length filling you up and pressing against your cervix. You felt like you were going to split open from the sheer size.

"Fuck baby, so tight around me. Can practically see myself in your stomach, feel me right there baby, hmm?" He pressed on your abdomen where a slight bulge could be seen and you nearly came as you cried out at the pressure.

He pulled out slowly, your walls hugging his cock tightly, every ridge and curve brushing against your walls before he thrusted foward hard, his cock entering you in one smooth movement as every inch was forced back inside you.

Your back arched as a choked scream left you and your legs began to tremble as each thrust punched the air from your lungs, his tip knocking into your cervix with each stroke.

"Look at you baby, so pretty spread out on my cock. Practically splitting you open, but you like that huh, got you so dumb on my cock you can't even speak." He punctuated the last word with a thrust as you let out another keen whine.

A sudden ring pierced the air and you whined as Jonathan began to slow his thrusts, his eyes falling to your phone on the coffee table.

He picked it up, his eyes squinting at the screen as he began to leisurely thrust into you once again, the slow motion causing you to buck your hips up into him to get him to move faster.

"Hmm, looks like you got a call from Dean. Why don't you answer it baby, see what he wants." And before you can tell him no he presses the accept button, putting it on speaker and setting it back on the coffee table. You gasp as he thrusts hard, hitting your g-spot with no effort and causing you to clench around him.

"Hello?" Dean's voice rings out and you bite your bottom lip hard as Jonathan tilts his head at you to answer, his hand lifting your leg and pushing it to your chest causing him to slide deeper.

"Y-yeah?" You ask into the phone as Dean calls your name again.

"Hey, I can't find my Yankees Jersey, do you still have it?" He asks right as Jonathan gives another deep thrust that has you seeing stars. You choke as you struggle to form a coherent thought and Dean seems to hear the sudden strain of breath as he calls your name suspiciously.

"U-uh, no, n-no I haven't seen it." He hums and then proceeds to ask how you've been handling the break-up. Jonathan smirks as he scoots you up so that your legs are resting on either side of his, your bottom half resting on his lap. He thrusts hard and the angle now has him brushing your cervix with every stroke, the curls at the base of his cock kissing your clit. The stimulation causes you to moan loudly as you forget about every other thing, including your ex who is now shouting into the phone with confusion as he hears your moans.

"Hey Dean, Jonathan here and I'd say she's handling the break-up pretty well considering she's being split open on my cock right now. Listen." He holds the phone near your mouth as you moan brokenly.

Dean curses, shouting out in disbelief and Jonathan smirks as he hangs up the phone quickly, throwing it on the table as he brings his fingers to toy with your clit.

"Come on baby, I can feel you clenching on my cock. You liked him listening to me fuck you, didn't you?" He asks, your moans the only response he needs.

"You gonna come for me, huh angel? Come on my cock, baby. Squeezing me so tight, can't wait to fill this pretty pussy up." He mutters and the thought of his come overfilling you is what brings your pleasure to the brink.

You cry out as your pussy clenches around him like a vice, his cock fucking you through your climax as you spasm around him, and you moan as you hear a breathy gasp escape him, his cock twitching in you as he fires off a load of cum, pumping each round into you and coating your walls.

He collapses on you as you both pant and your mind slowly recovers from the haze of lust.

You kiss his cheek as he pulls out from you slowly, wincing at the sensitivity of your pussy and you reach your hand out to grab the wipes from where you keep them under the couch cushion, handing them to Jonathan who kisses you deeply in gratitude as he wipes himself off.

"We are definitely doing that again." You say after a beat of silence and he can't help but laugh.

He was so lucky to have met you that day in the park.

#graysonshaven #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #18+ content #smut #oscar isaac #oscar issac fic #jonathan levy fic

[ugh-yoongi]

riding fakie | ksj

(or, the one where you think you’re getting a fake boyfriend, but you end up with a whole lot more.)

→ pairing: seokjin x f. reader → genre(s): enemies to lovers (lite), fake dating | humor, fluff, angst → rating: mature → warnings: based entirely on this edit i saw ages ago so good luck, swearing, reader is a trust fund kid with awful parents so classism and screwy family dynamics, a very brief but referenced two-night-stand with taehyung who has a foot fetish (canon) and is ultimately plot irrelevant, this is lite enemies to lovers so sometimes they are not very nice to each other, kissing. i think that’s it? this is mostly tame, all things considered, but i will revise if needed. → word count: 14.2k → written for: the catch of the century collab. thank you to @raplinesmoon​ / @joheunsaram​ / & @kithtaehyung​ for hosting and allowing me to participate! ♡ → thank yous: my holy trinity for keeping me inspired and accountable and letting me know when i don’t word good. @the-boy-meets-evil​ / @hot-soop​ / @effortandmore​. also my husband who actually skateboards and helped me to sound knowledgeable but will also never, ever see this. → a/n: [looking a whole lot like the dehydrated spongebob meme] hey, long time no see. this fic absolutely kicked my ass like nothing has ever kicked my ass before, but it’s finally done and here. i don’t think i’m super happy with how it turned out and i think it’s probably rushed, but i hope you all enjoy it regardless! now, if you need me i will be sobbing on the floor holding a locket with seokjin’s picture inside.

[THE THREAT]

The thing about privilege is—

Well, nothing. It’s just there, propped up in the corner, looming over every aspect of your life. And usually it’s fine. You want for nothing. People just hand things to you. But, just like the apple tree and Isaac Newton and the Law of Gravity—everything that goes up must come down. Nothing gold can stay. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. You might have your name and your money and your status, but you also have your parents and your brother.

Your brother, who has somehow found someone to marry him and is planning a wedding.

Your parents, who are threatening to revoke your trust fund if you don’t attend. And bring a date.

“I don’t want to hear it,” your mother says, preemptively cutting off your protests. She’s always had a knack for dictatorship, and another one for doing so as she barks orders to the hired help in the background. “This wedding is very important for us as a family. Do you know how bad it’d look if you not only didn’t show up, but showed up alone? It won’t do.”

On your end of the line, sitting at some bougie outdoor café with an overpriced latte in hand, you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t it look worse to cut off your only daughter and leave her destitute? God forbid, what if I have to get a job?”

An aggravated click of her tongue. “I don’t know where you got that smart mouth of yours, but it’s unbecoming. I’ve at least managed to talk your brother’s fiancee out of including you in the bridal party, so you could show a bit of gratitude instead of being a brat.”

(Impossible, you think. Your brother had taken all the suck-up genes and left nothing for you. Alternatively, you’d taken all the backbone, so it’s almost even.)

“Why don’t you ask the youngest Jeon boy? They’re coming anyway, and it would look good for your father if the two of you were seen together.”

You grimace. “Jeongguk? Absolutely not.”

Another click. “Fine, but don’t you dare even think about showing up with some—”

“Piece of shit loser,” you finish for her. Usually she’d scold you for swearing, but it’s apparently allowed in the name of shitting on the middle-class. “Yes, Mother, I get it. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare sully our good family name by associating with the poor.”

She doesn’t trust you, you can tell by the way she huffs and starts mumbling under her breath, but it’s clear she’s just as done with this conversation as you. “You have three months to figure it out.”

Privilege can go to hell.

[THE SEARCH]

Park Jimin is a lot of things.

He’s got money. He’s got hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers for no reason other than he’s hot. He’s got a closet full of in-season designer clothes, so he’d look stunning hanging off your arm in a tailored suit. He’s got charisma and charm and that innate ability to talk to anyone about all that boring shit you can’t stand.

Most importantly, he’s got a chip on his shoulder, too. He’s on your level.

Park Jimin is telling you no. “Sorry, I’ll be out of the country that weekend,” he says. He doesn’t look sorry. “One of those things I can’t skip. You know how it is.”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re full of shit.”

Park Jimin’s got a laugh that rings like Tiffany crystal. “Maybe.”

Still, you’re not above begging. The list of acceptable arm candy candidates (which you’ve taken to calling The Armcandidates, because you also got all the humor genes) is rapidly dwindling, and although Jimin’s not bottom of the barrel, he’s close. “Jimin, please. Whatever you want, I just need this one favor.”

“Don’t barter with things you’re not willing to give up,” he chides, nothing but heat. Would you fuck Jimin to keep your trust fund? Pillowy lips, slutty little waist, thighs that could crush your head like a grape—you could definitely do worse, all things considered.

“Who says I’m not?”

Jimin would come dead last in a poker tournament, the way surprise flashes across his face. “Well, in that case, I’m actually sorry I’ll be out of the country that weekend.”

You groan, head dropping onto your folded arms. “Can’t believe I outed myself like that and you’re still turning me down.”

Laughter trails behind him as he disappears into his massive closet. “Have you asked Taehyungie? He loves weddings.”

“The last time I talked to Kim Taehyung, he jerked off on my feet and cried. I don’t think I could look him in the eye, let alone invite him to my brother’s wedding.”

Jimin snorts. “He’s actually quite lovely once you get past the foot stuff. Think about it.”

Regretfully, not only do you think about asking Taehyung, you actually go through with it.

One day you’re talking to Jimin and the next thing you know, you’re once again on your back in Kim Taehyung’s bed. No weird feet shit this time, you’d told him, and, well, here you are. Skin tacky from sweat, entire room stinking of sex. Kim Taehyung is weird as hell but he’s unreasonably hot, and you’d made it all of ten minutes in his presence before folding.

(The last time it’d been five, so you’re making progress. Surely that’s something to be proud of.)

“I actually came here for a reason,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. Beside you, Taehyung hums an acknowledgement. You try not to wonder if he’s staring at your toes and that’s why he’s breathing so hard. “I need to bring a date to my brother’s wedding or my parents are gonna cut me off.”

He whistles. “Damn, that’s cold. Fully?”

“That’s what they say.”

“And you’ve decided to ask me? I’m honored, angel.”

“I asked Jimin first, to be fair.”

Taehyung’s face falls comically. “I’m no longer honored,” he jokes. “Jiminie’s great at weddings. He said no?”

You shrug. Something about his rejection still stings. You’re trying not to take it personally. Or think about it too much. “Said he’s going to be out of the country that weekend. Told me to ask you because you quote-unquote ‘love weddings’.”

“He said that?” Taehyung asks, voice pitched higher, dopey look overtaking his features. “Wow, we’re so in sync.” Wistful, like he’s lovesick. “We really must be soulmates.”

You choke. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no. Is the wedding the weekend he’s going to Milan?”

That ‘no’ seems to be carrying a lot of weight. You eye him suspiciously. “Apparently.”

“Ah, I’ll be in Paris. I asked him to come with me and he told me no, too. Guess you know how it feels.”

You sit up, sheets clutched to your chest. “Seriously, what’s going on with you two?”

Taehyung heaves a long-suffering sigh. “How much time do you have?”

You roll your eyes. “About three minutes.”

“Next time, then. Sorry I can’t help with the wedding. You’ll find someone, though.”

Another day, another rejection. You tell Taehyung not to look at your feet as you get dressed to leave.

Jung Hoseok isn’t generationally wealthy, but he’s got enough money to be deemed respectable in the eyes of your parents.

He’s also got a 24 karat smile and a meticulously highlighted and underlined study guide for your upcoming exam, so he’s currently ranked number one on your Armcandidates list.

“Hobi, have I ever told you you’re my favorite person?”

He eyes you over the lid of his coffee cup. “A few times, yeah.”

“Jung Hoseok,” you singsong, “actual sunshine, number one human, best thing since sliced bre—”

“If you finish that sentence with some fire of my loins Lolita bullshit I’m leaving.”

You pout. “I need a favor.”

He tosses the study guide in your direction. “Just take it. I have another copy in my bag.”

“Not that,” you say, but you take it anyway. Hoseok’s study guides are a thing of legend: even if you don’t use it, you’ll be able to sell it to some idiot underclassman for a week’s worth of coffee. The bougie kind with whipped cream on top. “I need a date for my brother’s wedding.”

Now it’s his turn to choke. “And you’re asking me?”

“Yeah? What’s wrong with asking you?”

He shrugs, suddenly antsy, like he’s too big for his skin. “I don’t know. Don’t you have, like, actual prospects? Every dude in our cohort wants to date you.”

“Because I’m hot and I have a shitload of money,” you retort, and Hoseok makes a face that says yeah, fair. “I’d rather be tarred and feathered than ask any of them. We’re friends, and I trust you. Additionally, your family’s rich enough to get my parents off my back and we’d look good together.”

“Ah, yes, that last point is very important.”

You scoff. “Of course it is, it’s my brother’s wedding. Do you know how many pictures I’m gonna be forced to take? Hundreds. Possibly thousands.”

“Sounds terrible.”

“It will be, which is why I need a brother-in-arms. A confidante. A comrade.”

“Have you asked Jimin? He’s great at weddings.”

You nearly start shrieking. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“...Is that a yes?”

“Of course I asked Jimin. I asked Taehyung, too. They’re both going to be out of the country and are probably fucking, and that’s not particularly something I want to get in the middle of.” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “It could be serious,” you argue. “Like, Actual Feelings kind of stuff, and that shit gets messy.”

“Yeah, fair,” Hoseok concedes, out loud this time. “Plus Tae has that weird foot thing.”

“Exactly! So you get it.” Finally, a lead! “Will you come, then?” You flutter your eyelashes. “Pretty please, Hobi.”

“When is it?” As you rattle off the date, Hoseok digs through his bag for his phone. Then he pulls up his calendar and frowns. “Shit, no can do, either. My elective rotation starts that prior Monday.”

“Ew. What elective are you taking?”

Hoseok nearly blinds you as he smiles. “Reproductive endo and infertility.”

Your eyes widen. “Holy shit, that one you applied to ages ago? You got it?” He nods. “Oh my god, Hobi, that’s amazing!” You launch across the table to hug him. “I still hate you for bailing, but think of all the tiny raisins you’re gonna help bring into the world!” You wipe away a fake tear. “You’re a god amongst men, Jung Hoseok.”

He takes a bow. “Thank you, thank you. Speaking of which, how’s the volunteer gig in the ER treating you?”

“It’s fine.” You groan, put-upon, and sometimes Hoseok is so smiley and endearing that you feel guilty unloading all of your burdens on him, so you aren’t going to. Not unless he asks. Because he’s prone to dramatics and neuroticism but not like you are, and you know it can be a lot for someone not expecting it.

However—

“That’s good. Is that annoying guy you told me about still bothering you?”

Wrong question.

You cock an eyebrow. “This is the third time this week.”

In front of you, Kim Seokjin just grins, dried blood cracking on his plush lower lip. “Yep.”

“It’s Tuesday,” you deadpan. The grin grows wider, warping the purple-black bruise beneath his eye.

Because he’s arguably the most annoying person on earth, Seokjin just hums an acknowledgement, leaning further against the reception desk. “Well,” he says, voice interlaced with honey, “you’d have to take that up with the Babylonians, since they invented the modern calendar. Not much I can do about that.”

A pause. Then, “You’re really fucking annoying, do you know that?”

“It's a bit rude to insult someone seeking out your services, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, pushing your tongue into the fat of your cheek. “Not really. Not if it’s you.”

Surprisingly—or maybe not, considering everything seems to roll off his back—a laugh comes tumbling out of him. “Listen, I know it’s probably overwhelming to be blessed with the sight of this face not once, but three times in a week. I can understand and excuse your insensitivity, so I won’t report you this time, but—”

Ignoring him, you slam a clipboard onto the space between you. “You know the drill.”

“What if I’ve forgotten it?”

“Name, address, insurance information, reason for treatment.”

“You know my name, you know where I live, insurance hasn’t changed, and I’m just here to soak in your sparkling personality.”

With as murderous a stare as you can muster, you push the clipboard further in his direction. It hits something solid. Probably a rib, judging by Seokjin’s pained wheeze, but you don’t get paid enough to care. “Do you need a pen?”

“Why, so you can stab me with it?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He rolls his eyes. Thumbs through the intake forms and pretends to read them, even though the last time he had to sign one he’d just drawn a stick figure giving you the finger. “Have you ever spoken to anyone about your sociopathic tendencies? Might do you some good.”

With prolonged eye contact, you toss a pen in his direction. Hits him square between the eyes. “A million times,” you deadpan. This is where you’d blow a bubble and pop it if you were allowed to chew gum on the clock. “I’ve been diagnosed with an incurable case of bitchitis. It’s a very tragic burden to bear. Fill out the form.”

Seokjin huffs. Stays standing right in front of you as he does as you say, ignoring the line of people behind him that’s rapidly stacking up. Someone towards the back yells at him to get out of the way, but the protest dies immediately once he turns around and smiles. You think an elderly woman faints. She definitely bobbles, at the very least.

“Thanks so much for your help,” Seokjin says, handing the forms back with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. They’re free of doodled middle fingers, so you wave him off. “Have a great day,” he lobs over his shoulder. When you look down, he’s giving you the finger at waist-height.

“Have the day you deserve,” you fire back.

Your skin needles with anxiety for the rest of the day.

Seokjin comes into the emergency room again on Friday.

He’s got a large gash just above his eyebrow that’s gonna need stitches. You tell him as much as he fills out the same forms as the day before, and he tells you to tell him something he doesn’t know as he rolls his eyes and winces immediately.

“Here’s something you don’t seem to know: karma is real, and she also thinks you’re an asshole.”

You get the finger again for that one. Honestly, you can’t say you don’t deserve it.

“Kiss my ass.”

You pretend to pout. “Health hazard. Against hospital policy.”

Seokjin pauses. Seems to study you for a while, and then he’s cocking an eyebrow and asking, “What do you actually do here, anyway? Besides be a giant bitch.”

Wordlessly, you point at your name tag. There, right beneath your first and last name, lies the answer to Seokjin’s question. He squints. Winces again. “You’re a med student?”

Again, you point at your name tag.

“That means I can write a complaint.”

“Go ahead,” you retort. “My mother’s on the board of directors, and luckily for you she already knows I’m a giant bitch.”

Seokjin snorts, jaw dropping slightly. Just enough to draw attention to his mouth, which you’ve seen a hundred times for a hundred different injuries, but it looks especially sinful today. Maybe it’s just because he’s being mean to you, which is something you might need to explore with Taehyung in exchange for pictures of your feet.

“Ah, I should’ve known. You’ve got overwhelming nepo kid energy. Probably never had to work for anything a day in your life, huh? Probably a legacy to whatever shit-tier medical school was bribed into accepting you, too.”

Until now, you’d thought your banter with Seokjin was relatively harmless. Barbed, sure, and definitely effective. You’d throttle Seokjin if given the chance, and you know he’d do the same. But it’s never been outright cruel.

You try to look unfazed. Try to look like you don’t care about Seokjin and his words at all, because they’re nothing you haven’t heard before. Not like you’d asked to be born to your parents, so shit like this usually rolled off your back.

Now, though—

Your face must fall, just a little, because Seokjin immediately looks remorseful. Moves to say something, but you’re retrieving his clipboard and intake paperwork before he can stutter out an apology. “Thanks. They’ll call you back shortly.”

“Hey, I—“

“You can take a seat over there,” you interject, eyes locked on your computer screen. If you tear up, you can just blame it on eye strain.

You don’t see Seokjin for another two weeks.

And that’s… fine. His absence has given you some time to digest, some time to mull things over, decide if you’re actually upset or if you’d gone temporarily insane. It’d taken ten days, but you came to the conclusion that it’d just been a fleeting moment of sensitivity. People are mean to you all the time in the ER; if you took each insult or attack on your character to heart, you’d be in for a world of hurt.

So, yeah. You’d had a rough day and Seokjin saying you were a good-for-nothing nepot stung a little. That’s it.

Because you’ve got more pressing matters to attend to. You’ve managed to piss away an entire month without securing a date to the wedding, and now you’ve got time breathing down your neck. Two months, your mother’s shrill voice shrieks in your head, and it devolves into weeks and days and hours the longer you let yourself spiral. It’d seemed like so long before: you’d been so certain you’d have a date by the end of day one, and then the universe had to go and humble you. Cruel.

But the universe is also fair, because one day it’s been two weeks since you’ve seen Seokjin, and the next it’s a painfully slow Thursday afternoon and he strolls in with splinted fingers and a sheepish, weary expression.

“Uh, hi.”

You look up from your computer, taking in all the bruises and scars that dot his face but take nothing away from the beauty of it. “Sorry, exorcism hours ended at noon.”

Seokjin swallows, nostrils flaring. He looks like he wants to argue, just because he’s him and you’re you, but he acquiesces with a little nod. “Fair. I deserved that.”

“Here for the usual?” you ask, tone dry and neutral. When Seokjin doesn’t answer, you grab a clipboard and start your usual spiel—name, address, insurance information, reason for treatment—and then there’s a choked-off sound, not unlike a cat dying.

He looks pained when you dare a glance. Face contorted into a grimace, just like all the parents who bring in their constipated babies. “No, no,” he says. Sucks in a deep breath, and you nearly roll your eyes in exasperation. This guy’s acting like he’s about to give a speech at the goddamn United Nations. “I’m here to… apologize?”

You blink. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling you?” A pause. “Yeah, definitely telling you.”

“Okay.” Another pause. Seokjin fidgets, shifts his weight from one leg to the other, wipes probably-sweaty palms on his jeans, picks up every pen in the cup and drops it back in. “Well, the floor is yours.” More silence. His face seems to shift into reluctant acceptance. “Any day now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“I was having a bad day and I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Okay.”

“I still think you’re really mean—”

“Sure, that’s fair.”

“—but I’d like to make it up to you. I think.”

“You sure are thinking a lot. Wanna give those brain cells a break?”

“Fuck you,” he replies automatically. “Here I am, trying to be nice—”

An idea strikes you then. Parts the hazy recesses of your mind like the Red Sea, and it feels like you’ve been struck by lightning. “How were you planning on making it up to me?”

Because he’s not wholly an idiot, Seokjin sends you a pointed look. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You’re sure your smile looks straight out of a Creepypasta, but there’s an opportunity here, and you’d be a fool to let it slip through your fingers. “Because I just so happen to need a favor, and here you are, ready to dish one out.”

“I never said it was a favor.”

You pout. “But Seokjin,” you whine, “you were so mean.”

One of his eyes twitches. “Why does this feel like a crossroads deal?”

“I think the Grinch felt similar. Right before his heart grew three sizes and he saved Christmas.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and you can almost see the scales tipping in his brain, weighing whether or not it’s a good idea to entertain you at all. Which is impressive, all things considered, because he doesn’t even know what you’ll ask for yet. He could be expecting something humiliating at his expense, or a monetary bribe—you’re pretty certain asking for a date will catch him fully off-guard.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing big,” you reply easily. Twirl your hair around your finger. Bat your eyelashes. “Just a little date.”

Seokjin sputters. “A what.”

“A date,” you repeat. “I just so happen to need a date to my brother’s wedding, and you just so happen to be overcome with guilt. It’s a win-win.”

“We don’t even like each other!”

You click your tongue. “Even better, because I don’t like my brother, either!”

“So this is… what? A game? Some kind of petty revenge? Bring the guy who looks like me to your brother’s wedding to rebel against your parents?”

“Yes, absolutely,” you answer, not even bothering to sugarcoat it. Seokjin doesn’t seem convinced. You sigh. “Look, you can say no. Or I can throw in something extra if it feels unfair—”

“Like what?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, I haven’t had time to prepare a fucking offer sheet, Seokjin. What do you want?”

“Depends. What’s this all entail? Is it a one-time thing or do I have to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

You choke. “My boyf—” But then it hits you: your brother will hate this. Your parents will hate it even more. Without even needing to ask, it’s clear Seokjin isn’t from your world, and if they’re ready to disinherit you for showing up to your brother’s wedding alone, might as well commit to the bit. So you clear your throat and smile again. “And if I say yes?”

“It’ll cost more,” Seokjin deadpans.

You nod, feeling a little like you’re swindling this poor man. “Add it to my tab, boyfriend.”

[THE MEETING]

Finding a date was supposed to be the hard part. Turns out, it’s only the beginning.

Your parents are thrilled and a little stunned when you tell them you’ve secured a plus-one. (So is your brother, but you have better luck with him listening when you tell him to fuck off. It’s a little hard to say the same to your mother and father when they’re dangling a trust fund in front of you like a carrot.) And, in true upper echelon form, they grill you. For hours. Family name, family business, how you met, what their intentions are, blah blah blah. You feel a migraine coming on somewhere around question two.

Eventually, your mother says, “I don’t know about this,” and your father grunts in agreement. You don’t think he’s used full words in years. Not with you.

“What’s there to know?” you whine, nearly rolling your eyes. “I’m not marrying the guy. It’s just a date.”

Your mother flutters around the kitchen, pointedly not looking at you. It’s weird seeing her like this: almost like a real mother, almost like she’s going to say something comforting and serve you a plate of freshly-baked cookies instead of huffing and puffing at everything you say and treating you like a pariah. “Do you even know this young man?”

“Of course I know him.”

“Do I need to remind you that it’s bad etiquette to bring a first date to a wedding?”

There’s a pang of annoyance that you have to tamper down. “It’s not a first date.”

“Oh? You’ve been seeing him regularly?”

This time you do roll your eyes. “Sure, Mom.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at your mother,” your father says, not bothering to lower the newspaper in front of him.

“How did you—”

“Is this young man your boyfriend?”

You think about what Seokjin had said: It’ll cost more. Not, you couldn’t pay me eight billion dollars to pretend to date you. Not, no thanks I’d rather die. Just, it’ll cost more. So, as you sit in this opulent kitchen with your parents and some ungodly amount of Italian marble, you think there’s nothing you wouldn’t pay to make these people miserable. These people, who never saw you beyond a status symbol. That traditional nuclear family tucked behind the white picket fence. Two kids. Golden retriever. Pool boy. Family vacations to five-star resorts, only your parents smiling in the pictures before they abandoned you and your brother with the nanny.

So, no, Seokjin isn’t your boyfriend. Not really. But he’s willing to play the part and that’s good enough. “Yeah,” you answer, and one simple word stops your mother in her tracks and gets your father to finally abandon his stupid newspaper, and just this little bit of power feels nice.

“Oh,” comes your mother’s reply. She shares a look with your father.

Because the patriarchy is alive and well and he loves to play the arbiter, he says, “I think we should meet him.”

And, because you’re not an idiot, you say, “Don’t forget the rule was that I had to find a date, not that you had to approve them.”

With a huff, your father disappears again behind his newspaper.

You: i need another favor

Rapid Onset Migraine: how much

You: shouldn’t my boyfriend want to do nice things for me out of the kindness of his own heart

Rapid Onset Migraine: no

(“Shouldn’t you have him saved under his actual name? Maybe a little heart emoji?” Hoseok asks, looking over your shoulder. “Unless he has a degradation kink, I don’t think anyone’s going to buy that someone named Rapid Onset Migraine is actually your boyfriend.”

“Shut up, Hobi. It’s one of those things that are violently affectionate and ironically cute.” A pause. Then—“Do you think Thunderclap Headache is better?”

“No. No, I definitely do not.”)

You: you don’t even know what the favor is

Rapid Onset Migraine: don’t care

You: fine

You: i would like to formally demand your presence at dinner with my parents this thursday at 7

Rapid Onset Migraine: i’m busy

You: i will literally venmo you rn to cancel your plans

Rapid Onset Migraine: i’m suddenly free. @jin-k92

Rapid Onset Migraine: five hundred dollars please

You: fuck off

You: $50. final offer. take it or leave it

Rapid Onset Migraine: leave it

You: sent. see you thursday!

  It’s Tuesday night and you’re fresh off your shift, headed to your car, looking forward to doing nothing but absorbing into your couch and maybe using that new bath bomb, when someone on a skateboard crashes into you.

You’re on your ass before you can process, stunned, staring up at the fluorescent lights of the parking lot. A familiar face enters your line of sight, not looking all that apologetic. “Whoops.”

You groan. “Worst boyfriend ever,” you retort, sticking your hand in the air. “At least help me up.”

There’s absolutely no grace in the way Seokjin hauls you to your feet. Doesn’t bother to steady you when you bobble, either, and you have half a mind to give him the finger. Instead, you say, “Are you stalking me?” and delight in the split-second of panic that overtakes his features.

“No,” he eventually says, expression right back to neutral. “You’ve already agreed to date me. Why would I need to stalk you?”

“There’s at least seventeen different problems with that statement and I’m not going to touch any of them.” You take a second to look him over: no obvious injuries, still obnoxiously attractive. Hair a little longer than usual, rogue strands hanging loose and framing his face. No one should be allowed to look like this. He really, really gets on your nerves. “Why are you here, though? You look fine.”

“I am fine—”

“Uninjured,” you clarify, which earns you a scoff.

“I’m that, too,” he snarks, “but I came to find you to figure out the game plan.”

“Why didn’t you just text me?”

“I was already in the area,” he lies.

“Uh-huh.”

“And I thought I could con you into buying me dinner.”

“What’d you do with the fifty bucks I sent you the other day?”

Seokjin looks at you like you’re dumb. You’re really starting to wonder if you are. “I spent it.”

“On what?”

“Are you my accountant now?” he huffs.

“No, but you’re not my sugar baby, either. Buy your own dinner.”

He bats his lashes at you. “But honey…”

“Fuck off, Seokjin,” you say, stomping towards your car. Unsurprisingly, he’s right behind you, the wheels of his skateboard noisy as they glide along the concrete. “This is why you’re always needing stitches?” you ask, knowing he’s close enough to hear.

“Yep.” A louder noise; probably some kind of trick. You’re not going to dignify him by watching and being impressed.

During your second semester of college, Hoseok had gotten you into this horrible habit of parking far away. So you get your steps in, had been his reasoning, and it’s hard to say whether you’d given in to the 10,000 steps per day hysteria or just Hoseok’s convincing, evil little smile, but you still do it. And you’re really regretting it now, when you have to traipse through a half-mile of parking lot with the world’s most annoying person on your heels.

“Are you gonna take me to dinner, though?”

That’s how you wind up sitting across from him at a diner.

His cheeseburger is demolished in record time. Fries are halfway gone, too, by the time he asks what the plan is and seems genuinely shocked when you say there isn’t one.

“What do you mean there’s no plan?”

“There’s no plan,” you repeat, dipping your own fry into his ketchup just so he has to swat your hand away. “I mean, dinner is at seven, but that’s it.”

Seokjin looks confused, like you’ve tilted his world on its axis. “There’s gotta be a plan,” he argues. “There’s always a plan with you trust fund kids.”

Another dig, and you can tell by the way he avoids your gaze once he makes it. “There’s really no plan,” you say, ignoring the quip. There’s a reason you’ve got a fake boyfriend, and it’s not because your parents are benevolent and easy-going. “I don’t care what you tell my parents.”

“Now I know for sure you’re setting me up.”

You shrug. “Believe whatever you want.”

Seokjin studies you, clearly still unconvinced. “You’re telling me,” he begins, sticking the straw of his root beer float in his mouth, “that I can just walk in there and sabotage you? That I have carte blanche? That I can tell them you literally paid me to be there?” You shrug. There’s a disgusting slurping sound. You grimace.

“Well, I’m hoping you won’t, but I certainly can’t stop you.”

“You’re terrible at fake dating.”

A sigh escapes you before you can stop it. You don’t want to delve into twenty-plus years of parental trauma, especially not with this guy, but sometimes it can’t be helped. “Look, I don’t want to go to my brother’s wedding. I don’t like him, and I don’t like my parents. No one else wanted to fake date me”—you hold up your hand to kill the obvious comment before he makes it—“and, honestly, my parents are gonna hate you and that’s the entire reason I asked for your help. So, no, I don’t care what you tell them, because I don’t care if they approve. I’m sick of them making me jump through hoops just to be their kid.”

Unfazed, Seokjin breezily replies, “You obviously care enough to keep taking their money.”

“I consider my trust fund to be reparations.”

“That why you were so touchy about that nepotism comment?”

Nodding, you fidget with the hem of your scrub top, hands suddenly sweaty. “Well, it doesn’t feel great to have my accomplishments credited to my last name or whatever, but it’s not something I can stop anyone from assuming.”

“Are they?”

“It’d be naive to think they aren’t.”

“You got into med school, though,” Seokjin says, and you tamper down the flush that’s creeping in. You are not going to care about any man’s acknowledgement. “That’s not an easy thing to do.”

“Can you tell my parents that?”

A laugh bellows out of him, and you’re horrified to learn it’s a terrible sound. Everyone in the diner turns to stare, and you’re flushed crimson and trying to duck under the table.

Still, you can’t help but smile. Your parents really are going to have a stroke.

To your delight, Seokjin is good at getting people to hate him. Like, really good—almost scarily so.

He’d shown up twenty minutes late, having ignored the dress code entirely, clad in a pair of ripped black jeans and a plain black t-shirt, arm tattoos and innumerable scars proudly on display. He hadn’t bothered to shake your father’s hand or introduce himself to your mother, just fell into the seat next to you, stage-whispered a, this place is a shithole huh, and stuck his nose in a menu. When the waiter came by, he ordered a bottle of wine older than the two of you combined and the most expensive entree on the menu.

Now, an hour in, your parents are teetering on the edge of a major cardiac event.

“So, Seokjin,” your father says, voice gritty and forced, “what do you do?”

Seokjin shoves a large piece of meat in his mouth, making sure to smack his lips. “What d’you mean?” he asks, the question garbled around the food.

“For a living.”

Scarily good, you think. Seokjin pretends to choke, pretends to look shocked and appalled. “I don’t work,” he answers, tone bang-on to the one your parents use when they’re being condescending. “My parents give me money, and I figured I’d date this one”—he flicks you in the temple—“until she becomes a doctor and can support me. Then we’ll get married.”

Your mother gasps. Your smile is involuntary.

Your father, on the other hand, knocks over his wine glass. Spills it all over the table, goes red in the face, and it’s the most distressed you’ve ever seen him, usually composed to a fault, immovable. “You’ll do no such thi—”

Seokjin fakes a yawn. “You ready, babe?” He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, just stands, tosses his napkin on the table, and grabs your hand. The two of you are out of the restaurant before either of your parents can utter a word.

Feels like one of those movie moments, you think: the cool breeze in your hair, against your flushed cheeks, your hand in Seokjin’s, both of you not daring to breathe or make a sound until you’re safe outside, away from your parents and their gobsmacked expressions. And then you crack, just enough for laughter to spill out, and Seokjin snorts, another horrible sound, and before you know it, the two of you are collapsed against the side of the restaurant, tears in your eyes as the brick scrapes against your skin.

Maybe something shifts. Maybe the smile Seokjin sends you is genuine.

[THE RELATIONSHIP]

Much to your horror, fake relationships aren’t all that different from normal, authentic ones.

Which means two things: one, that your brother and his wife-to-be both received an earful from your parents about Seokjin and The Dinner, and two, you still have to compromise.

The first one wasn’t so bad. Your brother had called you and issued a vague threat, of course, because he’s never had a sense of humor about anything, but you hadn’t answered so it’d been easy to delete the voicemail and forget about it. And, luckily for him, your future sister-in-law was far more lax. Bring him, she’d texted. He sounds like a good time.

You’re not sure you’d describe Kim Seokjin as a good time, but you replied with a thumbs-up emoji regardless.

All of that had been fine. You’re well-versed in dealing with your family by now, so it’s easy to let their bullshit wash over you and down the drain like rainwater.

No, it’s the fake but has to look at least semi-real relationship that’s proving to be difficult.

Because you don’t like to compromise. You want to do what you want to do when you want to do it, and you don’t want to hear about it from anyone. But here you are, doing a quasi-photoshoot with Seokjin so he can “soft launch” you on his Instagram—which, honestly, is a little daunting. He has a lot of followers. Not surprising, considering the way he looks, but the thought of being perceived by hundreds of thousands of strangers makes you feel like you’re wearing your skin inside-out.

“Can you try looking less constipated?” he asks, tone dry as toast as he scrolls through the series of selfies the two of you just took.

You scoff. “First of all, I don’t look constipated.” Really, you don’t. “Second of all, why do you even need to do this? We only have to convince my parents, and you pissed them off so bad I’m not sure they’ll ever ask me to bring a date to anything ever again.”

“Because I have a competition next weekend that you’ll have to go to, and I don’t want anyone asking any questions.”

“What if I’m busy?”

“You’re not,” Seokjin retorts, all conviction. “If I had to clear my schedule for that dinner, you’re free for this.”

“What if I have a school thing?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. He’s looking at you, and you’re looking at him through his phone camera. It’s really not fair, the way his face is. “Do you?”

“No, but what if?”

He takes another picture and cackles, gleefully showing it to you. “See? You definitely look constipated.”

With a glare, you wrestle the phone out of his hand and aim it the way you want—the way you know looks good. And maybe you do a little pout, too; do that thing with your eyes that looks seductive and a little dirty. Not because you care about what Seokjin’s followers think, because you’re hot and you know it, but because you want him to suffer. Just a little bit. It’s illogical, the way you want him to look at this picture and feel… something. Half pride, half longing.

So, you angle and pout. Delight in the caught-out expression on Seokjin’s face this time, like it’s the first time he’s learning that you’re hot and that it troubles him a little. “Is that better?” you ask, sugar-sweet.

Seokjin doesn’t respond, just posts the picture to his Instagram story.

Skateboarding has never been your thing.

Your brother had gone through a phase, once. Spent all his allowance on the video games and collected CCS catalogs, spending imaginary money as he’d thumb through the pages and circle everything he wanted. Never bought a real board, though—just developed a superiority complex because he listened to the Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2 soundtrack one too many times and thought it was a legitimate substitute for actual pre-teen rebellion.

However, fake-dating Seokjin means you’re getting a crash course.

“What do these do?” you ask, holding up a set of wheels. There’s an alien holding a bong on them. They make you laugh.

Seokjin eyes you from across the shop and pointedly ignores your question. Instead, the disgruntled guy behind the register answers. “They’re wheels,” he says, tone clipped, which you answer with a surprised noise, like you’ve discovered something new.

“Wow, wheels,” you intone. “Cool.”

Done picking out new grip tape, or whatever the hell he’d said, Seokjin plucks the wheels from your hand and puts them back where you’d gotten them. “Fascinating invention, huh?”

The man behind the register smells like weed. Reeks of it, actually, and the stench is almost overbearing as you sidle up next to Seokjin at the counter. Yoongi, his name tag reads. You don’t think he looks like a Yoongi, because it kind of lends itself to a stoner character, but it also sounds kind of sweet, and the man in front of you looks like he could snap you like a twig and enjoy it.

Then—“Oh, you’re Instagram girl.”

You scowl. “I’m who.”

First, you’re reduced to nepotism and your family name; now it’s Instagram. There’s a huff halfway out of your mouth when Seokjin wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you against his side. You think he’d press a kiss to your temple if this was real. “My beautiful girlfriend,” he says, playfully hip-checking you. 

Yoongi looks between the two of you, then pushes the tape back in Seokjin’s direction. “You know you don’t have to pay for this shit, man.”

“Sure, but I can. I have a rich girlfriend now.”

He yelps when you step on his foot with the heel of your boot. “Aren’t you so lucky,” you grit out.

You don’t see the way his gaze softens, but Yoongi sure does.

Anticipation crackles in the air.

Feels like the day you’d sat for the MCAT—that brand of nervous, determined focus, bordering on excitement. Something that will really only go one of two ways with a million variables, and it’s a small relief to not be the one in the hot seat.

Hoseok had been there last time. Now, a man that’s seemingly all limbs plops down beside you, ungraceful and awkward.

“You’re Instagram girl,” he says, before sticking his hand out. “Hi, I’m Namjoon.”

Seems like Seokjin’s idea of a soft launch is anything but. Briefly, you wonder how many more people are going to forego your identity entirely in the name of Instagram, but it’s kind of nice, too—nice to be someone other than your parents’ daughter, your brother’s sister, your family name. There’s a long way to go before the patriarchy is smashed entirely, because it’s not so nice to be newly reduced to Seokjin’s girlfriend, but baby steps.

For now, it’s all right.

For now, there are far worse things you could be.

“Hi, Namjoon,” you finally reply, because he seems out of place and nice enough—nicer than Yoongi, at least. Definitely far less gruff and abrasive.

He chokes a little, like he’s surprised you responded to him. Not for the first time, it’s just sort of par for the course when you are who you are. “Oh, sorry,” he says, cheeks flushing under the guise of the relentless afternoon sun. “I just—recognized you? And couldn’t help myself? Which probably sounds really creepy, which was not my intent, it’s just—Jin doesn’t bring anyone to these things. Like, ever. So it was a little shocking! Kind of like meeting a celebrity? Even though I’ve never really done that, either. Oh! I met Greta Thunberg once. That was cool. It was, like, on accident, though? So…”

On and on he goes, bless him, because he just talks endlessly without expecting a response. You look around: the bleachers are starting to fill up, awestruck kids with humored parents, and you wonder what that’s like. To have an interest in something and have it nurtured, instead of having to live up to expectations you never wanted. Maybe you would’ve been a skateboarder, too. Maybe you would’ve shucked all those societal norms and did something you wanted, even though it doesn’t really matter now.

“Hey,” you say, stopping Namjoon’s latest spiel in its tracks, “do you come to these things often?”

Namjoon lights up like Christmas. People must not ask him about himself much. “Yeah! Well, sometimes? I’m in grad school, so I come when I have time. I thought it’d be a good idea to get two master’s degrees, so I finished my first one—in philosophy, before you ask, which was pretty stupid, because what am I gonna do with that, you know? But I guess it worked, because I had a full-blown existential crisis and decided to get a second one to put off the inevitable second existential crisis over what I was going to do with my life—”

“What was that one in?”

Namjoon startles again, and it’s almost hopelessly endearing. “Huh? Oh, Botany and Plant Pathology.”

You blink. “Plant pathology?”

“Yeah! It’s really interesting, because everything’s connected, right? Like, you can’t really fight climate change and food insecurity if you have all these diseased crops and forests, and I leaned pretty heavily into biological philosophy for my first degree, especially environmental ethics and conservation—”

“...And you come to skateboarding competitions for fun?”

His ears turn red; his cheeks and neck follow shortly thereafter. “I like physics, and skateboarding has a lot of physics.”

Just your luck. “Can you explain to me what’s going on, then?”

Namjoon does as you ask, and takes his job very seriously. He explains the rules and the implications, the rankings and what they mean for the future, who’s who and the major players. He explains tricks as they happen—how they got their names, who did them first, notable events. You remember your brother screaming at the TV the night Tony Hawk landed the 900 at the X Games, and Namjoon’s smile is so bright when you tell him about it.

“Yeah, that’s—that was so fucking cool, man. You know he was 31 when he did that? I think about that sometimes. There’s all this emphasis on aging, this juvenile notion that life peaks in your twenties, that you need to have it all figured out before you’re thirty: the job, the marriage, the house with the white picket fence, and it’s bullshit. I know it’s bullshit, but sometimes I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything at my age, and I just think: Tony Hawk landed the first 900 when he was 31 years old, and now 10 year olds are doing it. That’s fucking dope.”

He’s off on another tangent almost immediately, telling you about how he’d met Seokjin and how they became friends. You hear none of it. Seokjin comes in second place. You don’t remember much of the celebration, either.

You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve been dunked in ice-cold water. Feels a bit like drowning.

You’re good at compartmentalizing.

You have to be, growing up in the family you did. Because Namjoon’s words had rattled you, sure, but you can’t linger on them. Lectures still need to be attended, hospital shifts still need to be worked, and it’d really hurt Hoseok’s feelings if you bailed on your study sessions, so you have to tuck away all those wayward thoughts for later.

Not until you’re alone, tucked into bed far too early for someone in their mid-20s, do you think about it.

Well, it’s less ‘thinking’ and more ‘ah, these are the existential crises Namjoon was talking about.’ Certainly not your first crisis, and it won’t be your last, but it’s still… unnerving. Being a doctor was something you’d always been rock-solid about. You hadn’t wanted to go into business like your father and brother, had no interest in kissing ass in the political sphere and wielding influence like your mother, but you’d been told all your life you had to do something. Something important, something impressive, something worth bragging about—because what were you worth if your parents couldn’t talk endlessly at fundraisers about how much better you were than everyone else?

You glance at the clock: almost two a.m. There’s only one person that’ll be awake at this hour, even though you shouldn’t. Seokjin has one job, and it isn’t talking you off the proverbial ledge in the middle of the night. Still—

You: you up?

Rapid Onset Migraine: this is happening a little fast don’t you think?

You: ??? huh

You: wait no

You: that’s NOT what i meant

Rapid Onset Migraine: yeah sure

Rapid Onset Migraine: well obviously i’m awake

Rapid Onset Migraine: you ok?

You: yeah, i’m sorry to bother you about this

You: i think i’m just having a bad time?

That’s that, you think, because minutes pass without a response. But then your phone’s vibrating, lighting up in your hand. Rapid Onset Migraine flashes across the screen, his contact photo set to a meme of Handsome Squidward just because you’d thought it was funny.

“Hello?”

“Sorry,” he says immediately, “I needed to make a pot of coffee before I had this conversation.”

You hum. The comment doesn’t sting. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink coffee.”

“I don’t,” Seokjin answers. “Well, not usually. Only if I have an early flight or something.”

“Or need to talk through your fake girlfriend’s two a.m. existential crisis?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin laughs, and it’s almost enough of a balm. “But I’m friends with Namjoon, so I’m an expert in those by now. I keep weird hours, anyway, you know? I’m either skating or gaming, so he used to call me at, like, four in the morning because he’d read too much Kierkegaard or Beauvoir and was spiraling.” You hear him take a sip of coffee. He starts sputtering immediately. “Shit, that’s hot. Fuck, I think I burnt my tongue off.”

“Luckily you know a doctor.”

“I do,” he says, and his tone is warm. Almost proud? “Anyway, what’s going on? You read Being and Nothingness, too, or what?”

For a moment, you’re just quiet, trying to think of the words to say. You’re well aware of your privilege, make a conscious effort to not throw it around the way others might, so there’s a lot of guilt that comes with something like this. You know what people probably think: poor little rich girl, with her family money and their connections, it must be so hard to be her. It’s not, and you’re fine, but—

“Did you always want to skate professionally?” you ask, because you figure it’s safe. Doesn’t give it all away, even though Seokjin’s smart enough to read between the lines.

And, to your surprise, he plays along. Doesn’t call you out or press on the bruise, just says, “Hm, no, not really.”

“No?” you repeat, incredulous. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he confirms. “This is really embarrassing, but I wanted to get into software engineering or coding. Whatever would let me make video games.”

“Why would that be embarrassing?”

“Because it’s me?” Seokjin forces a laugh, pure self-deprecation. “That’s the kind of stuff people like Namjoon do. And that’s—it’s fine. I’m good at skateboarding and I get paid to do it. That’s the kind of thing kids dream about, right? Getting paid to travel around and skateboard all day?” He sighs, and it’s broken in a way that’s unsettling and familiar. A sound that could be coming from your own lips. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it and I’m thankful I get to do this as a job, it’s just not what I thought I’d be doing with my life.”

A brief silence, and then Seokjin’s talking again before you can reply, which you’re glad for. Everything feels off-center. “Is that what’s going on? School stress?”

“Maybe,” you admit, still a little breathless. “I’m just… struggling? I think? With knowing what’s actual desire and what’s just expectation.”

“Ah, I see. I don’t think I can really help with that beyond empathizing, but I’m sorry you’re going through it.” Then, like he’s telling you a secret, “If it helps at all, I think it takes a lot of courage to do this kind of introspection. It’s not easy, especially when you’re likely to find things you don’t want to.”

You can’t help but snort, but it’s gentle. Quiet, though still loud in the stillness of your bedroom. “Thanks,” you eventually reply. “Surprisingly comforting.”

“Yah, I’ll have you know I’m a very comforting person!”

“Of course you are.”

“Besides,” he says, and his tone takes on such conviction you’re sure you’ll believe whatever comes out of his mouth next with no hesitation, “it’s fine if you decide this isn’t what you wanna do. It’s never too late, or whatever, but for what it’s worth, I think you’re going to be a great doctor.”

“Or whatever,” you echo, smile creeping up on you. “That makes it sound so easy.”

“I guess it is.”

What’s it like to live like that, you wonder. Completely devoid of expectations, just going with the flow, doing what you want without crippling fear of the consequences. Must be nice, is your conclusion. Life doesn’t work like that for you, and you’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with that, so it’s fine. You’re on a path and maybe it’s not what you would’ve chosen had you had time to look at all the possibilities, but you’re on a path and it’s yours.

You want to say this to Seokjin. You want to thank him, both for the pep talk and the unfounded confidence, but your eyelids feel heavy and he’s just babbling now, something about the first time he landed a tre flip, and it’s soothing. Comforting.

Sleep takes you before you can think about it too hard—think about how Seokjin used to be nothing but a menace, the worst part of your day, and now he’s not.

You’re on another night shift, third in a row, and you’re the kind of exhausted that has you smelling colors.

Nothing makes sense. Your bones hurt. When you think about going home and finally going to bed it feels like when you’re starving and wait too long to eat and don’t feel hungry anymore. Then you finally do and it’s not satisfying, kind of makes your stomach hurt, and the cycle repeats.

Seokjin texts you to check in. After your two a.m. convo, you’re hyperaware of how much time you spend venting, so you assure him you’re fine. He drops off a coffee and some snacks, anyway. Just because he’s already up.

—

There are other hangouts. You don’t call them dates, because that word has implications and meaning and this is fake, but you have them nonetheless.

Overindulgent takeaway, equally expensive alcohol that has sat unopened in your apartment for far too long, shitty movies playing in the background, and Seokjin’s inability to stop talking. He sneakily lobs popcorn at you when he thinks you aren’t looking. This prompts an all-out war, and you both have tears streaming down your faces by the time Seokjin calls a truce.

Just days later, you spread out a gingham blanket in the park. Seokjin makes up bullshit constellations, gives them horrific names and backstories, and revels in the sound of your infectious laughter. When your head feels too heavy to hold up, you lay back in the grass and try to keep your heart in your chest when Seokjin does the same, slender fingers searching out yours in the dark.

You want so badly to kiss him. Want to crash your mouths together and kiss him breathless, but you don’t.

On your third hangout, you cover each other in silly temporary tattoos and take too many selfies. Seokjin snorts at how dumb he looks in the filters and asks you to send him some, immediately setting a particularly couple-y shot as your contact photo.

And if you get butterflies when he posts one to his Instagram story? Well, that’s your business.

—

Seokjin gets the dumb idea that he’s going to teach you to skate.

Which is not only dumb because it’s impossible, but because you’re sure your skeletal system is probably insured for millions of dollars, knowing your parents. You can’t do any of your clinical rotations with broken bones—instant dismissal—and Seokjin knows this, but he’s annoyingly persistent and assures you you’ll be fine, so you relent because you trust him, despite all odds.

Physically, you are fine. Seokjin holds onto your waist and doesn’t let you fall, which is about all you can ask for when it comes to unwanted skateboarding lessons. Emotionally, though? Not so much. You’ve been close to Seokjin before. Enough to feel his body heat; enough to get goosebumps; enough to nearly become delirious with your want to taste him.

Normally that’s fine. But now, as he uses one hand to hold your waist and the other to hold your own hand, you can’t think of a single logical explanation for depriving yourself of more of this. Because he’s steady and warm, and sometimes you teeter and he grips tighter, causing your mind to wander and think about things it shouldn’t. You’re only human, and Seokjin is an otherworldly brand of handsome, so you don’t beat yourself up over it.

Still. It ignites something, that’s for sure, and if it’s anything like Seokjin himself, it won’t be easy to extinguish.

—

It’s by complete accident that you meet Jeongguk.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. You’ve met him before, at some bougie function your parents dragged you to, but it was brief and forced and awkward. Jeongguk was weird back then. Still is, probably, judging from his entire… presence, now.

He’s dangling upside down from a tree branch when you meet him for the second time.

“Oh. Jeongguk. Hi?”

“Hi!” he says, smile brighter than the sun, and before you can ask him why he’s upside down in a tree there’s a massive camera in front of his face. “Are you here to see Jin?”

Here is a public sidewalk, but you don’t say that. Instead, you say, “I’m on my way home. Why are you in a tree?”

His response is nonverbal, just a finger point dead ahead of you. Some Brutalist architecture leftover from the ‘50s—a large set of stairs, public fountain, weird art sculpture, a small crowd. Doesn’t take long to learn what they’re there for: Seokjin grinds down the rail, lands perfectly, nearly skates into the street and gets whacked by a car. Everyone cheers.

Ah, that explains the camera, too. You vaguely recall your mother telling you the youngest Jeon went to school for filmmaking. She hadn’t sounded impressed. You wonder what she’d think if she knew he was your delinquent, skateboarder, fake boyfriend’s videographer. Probably something aneurysm-inducing.

“He’s so cool,” Jeongguk says, whimsical and dreamy in a way that sounds like he has framed photos of Seokjin on his walls. Maybe his picture in a heart frame, like that one meme. “You’re so lucky.” There’s definitely some jealousy there.

You raise an eyebrow. “You wanna date him instead?”

Jeongguk seems to mull it over. Doesn’t move from his spot in the tree, either, and you reckon he’s got another sixty seconds before you forcefully turn him right side up. “Nah. He seems really happy with you.”

“We’re not—” Together, your brain finishes, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. So you cough, hope Jeongguk hasn’t caught it, and say, “Yeah, we’re not doing too bad,” instead.

—

“I think you’re too far gone, personally.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. What does Hoseok know? Okay, he’s probably the smartest person you know, but that’s medicine. He hasn’t had a long-term partner in years, so yeah, what does Hoseok know.

“I am not,” you insist, because the majority of your time in this library has been spent defending the validity of your love life, not studying. “Hobi, look.” You sigh, snapping shut your notebook. A migraine is forming just thinking about the amount of reviewing you’re gonna have to do at home to make up for this. “Does it really matter, in the grand scheme of things? Life is fleeting and we’re all inconsequential, so I understand why you’re grilling me on this and not the MLE review book we paid for—”

He pulls a face. “It was fifty bucks! You’re acting like I’m out thousa—”

“Not the point!”

Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut. Pinches the bridge of his nose. Presses his fingers deep into his frontal sinus points. “I think it not being the point is the point, though? None of this was necessary. You could’ve just brought him to the wedding without having to pretend he’s your boyfriend.” You move to protest. He waves you off. “I know you wanted to get back at your parents. Your parents suck, so I get it, but don’t you think this is a little much?”

“How?”

Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to sigh. Put-upon, like he’s a beleaguered parent talking to a very idiotic child. “Uh, how about the fact that the two of you are going on actual dates, for one? And they’re definitely dates, so I don’t want to hear it. You took him to a Michelin star restaurant, quote-unquote, just because.”

“I was hungry!”

“Sure, okay, whatever you say.” He throws his hands up, clearly defeated, and it settles all wrong in your gut. Hoseok gets mad, sure, but never at you. Not even annoyed. “Have you given any thought at all, even considered just a teeny-tiny bit, that this might not be as fake as you think?”

“No,” you retort, petulant, because it is fake and you don’t need Hoseok to tell you that.

But Hoseok is smart, you know, so you were never going to get off easy. “I think you actually like him.”

“I know. You’ve said that a hundred times.”

“And I’ll say it a hundred and one, if I have to. Fuck, your head must be made of concrete.”

“Could be,” comes your breezy response. “Maybe that’s why my mother hates me.”

Hoseok chokes. Knocks his tea over and onto the MLE guide, which prompts a distressed shriek from him and a harsh shushing from the rest of the library.

So much for it only being fifty dollars.

—

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi does leave his skate shop, which comes as a shock for a man who has severe cavedweller vibes.

“Hey, Instagram,” he says, smelling like actual cologne and laundry detergent instead of a dispensary as he stands behind you in line.

Yoongi is clearly talking to you. You know he’s talking to you, but you still pause, fragile like a deer caught in headlights, and look over your shoulder as if he could be talking to anyone else. “Uh. Hi?”

He squints. “You are Instagram girl, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I thought so, but you looked at me like I was the one who’s stupid so I wasn’t sure.”

Did he just call you stupid? “Did you just call me stupid?”

Yoongi shrugs. “What’s good here?” he asks, changing the subject. He definitely called you stupid.

“I—most things? I don’t know, I always just get a cold brew with oat milk.”

He grimaces. “Ew, gross. I’m gonna go grab a table. Grab me a medium iced americano.”

You order him a small, purely out of spite, and Yoongi doesn’t come to this coffee shop often enough to know the difference so he doesn’t even notice when you set it down in front of him. Takes all the satisfaction out of being petty. He must know. “Thanks,” he says, not looking up from his phone as he unwraps a straw and stabs his drink perfectly in the center.

“Sure. I’ll send you a Venmo request.”

“Oh, I don’t have Venmo.” He finally looks up. “Are you going to Jin’s thing?” All he receives in response is a blank stare. “The skate comp. Second qualifying round for the big championship event? Surely he’s told you about this.”

Let no man ever say you’re a bad liar. “Ah, yeah, of course! Med student brain. It’s all memorizing neural pathways and… stuff… and forgetting skate competitions.”

“Hm,” comes Yoongi’s response, and he quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t question you further.

(You bring it up to Seokjin later, expecting him to laugh it off, extend an invitation out of obligation. Instead, he laughs in a way that sounds fond. Says, “Yoongi beat me to it,” in a way that brings his scarlet red neck and ears to the forefront of your brain, and follows it up with, “I’d really love it if you came, but I understand how busy you must be right now,” that has your skin flushing all the same.

You’re loath to make promises, but sometimes they’re easy.)

Time is not on your side.

You barely make it to Seokjin’s second competition. Barely have your ass in the bleachers, hairline dotted with sweat and anxiety coursing through you, before he’s dropping into the bowl for his first run.

He’d mentioned it offhand. Told you it wasn’t a big deal if you couldn’t make it, because he knew how busy you were with school and that you needed to study because exam season was relentless, but he’d looked so relieved when you joked that it wasn’t so easy to get rid of you, that you’d be cheering him on from the first row. That being anywhere else just wasn’t an option.

And that had… taken you aback. Watching him skate is a good enough distraction for all those thoughts. You don’t have to dwell on the whys: why the thought of sitting in your apartment, nose stuck in a book instead of being here, had been so unconscionable. Instead, you’re able to focus on him, which is almost worse. Because the way he looks—wind pushing his hair back off his forehead as he skates around, calf muscles flexing every time he kicks, shirt fabric darkening under a light sheen of sweat, smiling at kids and the countless people he knows—is a little overwhelming. You’re winded for two reasons.

It’s a beautiful thing, watching someone do something they’re passionate about. Seokjin especially, but you’re biased. You want only good things for him.

His first run finishes. He chews on his bottom lip as the judges huddle together. Numbers flash on the scoreboard. Good—great, even. You know what the stakes are: score high enough and he’ll advance to the championship. More sponsors will fall in line. Someone will present him with one of those comically large checks that he’ll probably spend on god-knows-what at Yoongi’s shop.

More skaters follow. Highs and lows. Seokjin watches them all, enraptured, just as happy for their successes as his own. Someone bails out right next to him, arms out to break their fall, making a sound an arm should never make, and Seokjin’s there right away. He’s good.

Except the universe doesn’t always reward goodness. His second run starts off well: smooth as butter, impressively technical. Seokjin is fluid when he skates. Makes it look easy, like you could hop on a board and do it just as well. You watch him, but you almost like watching everyone else watch him more: the wide eyes, the whistles under their breath, the nods of approval. Seokjin’s got all of it, truly thrives on the admiration. He’s good, he’s good, he’s good.

You know it’s coming. That trick he’d told you about—the one he’s never been able to land during a competition. The one that’s gnawing away at him. He’s going to try it, and you’re holding your breath as he kickflips, grinds his board along the rail, does some kind of dismount that looks absurd and impossible to your untrained eye.

Then he’s on the ground.

He’s still for a second. Huffs in frustration. Back on his board before you can blink.

Seokjin’s not a child, but you know it stings. You’re overwhelmed by the urge to comfort him, the way he’s done for you countless times, but you shouldn’t so you don’t. The two of you don’t talk until after, and by then it might not matter.

It isn’t until he’s about to drop in for his final run that he scans the crowd. You want to believe the look on his face when he spots you is relief, but it’s painted over in a nanosecond. He smiles, smug but content, and then he’s shoving his helmet back on his head, clapping someone on the back, and he’s off.

Maybe the universe does reward goodness, because everything goes right this time.

Seokjin lines up to attempt the trick again, because if he’s going to go out it’s going to be on his terms. Completely unshakeable, the kind of attitude that gets plastered on those bullshit inspirational posters about falling down nine times and getting up ten, and you wonder, briefly, if it’s stupid. A good score would be enough to get him through, but he wants to do this.

And he does.

Everyone around you erupts as soon as the trick is landed. Seokjin calls the run early—just a handful of seconds left, anyway—and his fellow competitors are on him immediately. Someone picks him up in a bear hug and spins him around, and the joy on his face is so pure, so unbridled, that you almost cry.

But the wait is torturous. His second run had gone so poorly and those in the top spots had done so well that it’ll be close, even with a gazelle flip under his belt. Nothing is certain, and the way you can barely bring yourself to look at the scoreboard is proof enough. Seokjin is good, and you want only good things for him, and you can barely look at the scoreboard but you can’t look away, either—

The roar of the crowd is deafening.

A freeze-frame moment. All around you, there are fists in the air, shrill yells of Seokjin’s name, maybe a chant, nothing but chaos. You can hardly hear yourself think, but you can see just fine, and what you see is Seokjin’s gaze locked on yours. The corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. A flicker of hesitation before he’s gracefully shrugging everyone off of him and making his way over to you, and then it’s just reflex. Here, you know what to do.

You barely flinch when he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in.

Everything is soft. Feels a bit like floating.

Seokjinnie: do you wanna come over later?

Seokjinnie: i can either cook or get takeout, your choice

The apartment is small and you love it because he kisses you at the door. Seokjin has lips you want to memorize, so you kiss him again as he pulls away. The two of you kiss for a long time: throughout the “tour,” which is just the large studio space and the bathroom, all over the kitchen as he finishes cooking, until he exaggeratedly pulls out your chair, until you have to shove food in your face to keep your mouth off of him.

Seokjin has the kind of lips that leave you questioning if it’s really this easy.

Because Hoseok had been right: this isn’t fake for you anymore. Hasn’t been for a while, if you’re being honest, and maybe before this would’ve been a realization that scared you, but this doesn’t. Not when it’s Seokjin. So, yeah, maybe it is easy.

“Wait,” he says, chest heaving, gently pulling away from you. “Before I—wait, I have to talk to you about something.”

You just smile, hands still grazing over warm skin. “I think I already know.”

He stills. Takes a few seconds to reboot his brain before he’s smiling, laughing in a way that almost sounds unhinged. “God, yeah. Yeah, me too. But it’s—not that.”

“What, then?”

Immediately it’s clear this is not going to go well. Seokjin sighs, tilts his head back against the arm of the couch. His neck is gorgeous, littered with marks from you, but you gear up for a fight nonetheless. “The competition,” he says, as if that’s enough explanation. “The final round got pushed up.”

Your stomach drops. You know what’s coming, but you still ask, “To when?” because you’re a little bit masochistic. Because maybe you’re itching for the fight. Itching to say see, I told you so, I knew this was never going to work, because it’s always been fake. Itching to hurt, because you want what’s familiar when you hurt.

“Saturday.”

The day of your brother’s wedding. “Of course.” You snort; the universe loves a good dose of irony.

He sighs again. Looks so genuinely distressed that you find it hard to truly be upset. “I’m sorry. I just found out today.”

“It’s fine,” comes your instantly reply, auto-generated. Some silly, naive part of you refuses to spiral, stubbornly convinced you can salvage this. You’d found a date. That was the rule. You’ve done exactly what your parents asked of you, and you think with a rueful smile that they’ll probably be relieved when you show up alone.

But Seokjin’s not convinced. There’s still turmoil painted across his face—some silly, naive part of him clinging to something stubborn, too. “I’m going to ask you to be there.”

Yet another freeze-frame moment. The part in video games where it’s clear you have a very important choice to make, neon signs practically blinding, saying you better choose right, better not fuck it up. But you’re going to. You’re going to say no, and it’s going to hurt Seokjin, and you have about ten seconds to come to peace with that.

“I can’t.”

To his credit, Seokjin doesn’t look surprised, and you think that might be more painful. He’d expected nothing from you and you still let him down, so his snort is sardonic and derisive when he says, “Of course you can’t.”

And your tone is defensive and disbelieving when you retort, “What’s that supposed to mean? What exactly do you expect me to do here?”

“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t expect you to do anything, I’d foolishly hoped you’d say yes.”

Your jaw drops. Snaps shut when you swallow around the lump in your throat, because you’re not going to cry at not living up to another set of invisible expectations. “It’s my brother’s wedding, Seokjin. It’s not some small thing I can blow off.”

“Is that it?” he challenges, eyebrow quirked, expression bemused. “Or do you not want to lose your precious little trust fund?”

“Are you serious? Of course I don’t want to lose it, but I—”

“You don’t even like your brother,” he continues, giving you absolutely no reprieve. No chance to catch up, catch your breath. “You don’t even like your family, but I guess you like their money. Nothing was ever gonna be more important than that, huh?”

“That’s not fair, Seokjin.”

He hums; knows you’re right. Doesn’t try to get in anymore jabs, but he looks broken. “I don’t think this has been fake for either of us for a long time. It was stupid to think you’d go against your family on this, but I thought maybe, for me—”

“Again, that’s not fair.”

“I know it isn’t fair,” he shoots back. “I know that. I just…” He rubs his hands over his face. “I can’t skip this, and you’re not willing to skip yours, so I don’t—I don’t know what to do.”

“I can just go alone,” you say, because it seems simple. “I already did what they asked, so I can just go alone. It’s fine.”

“It’s not like that for me.”

You’re stunned into silence. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s irrational, but it’s… the principle. For me. I’m never going to match up, you know? I’m never going to be from your world. I can make all the money in the world doing what I do and I’ll still never come close. So I had this stupid thought in my head, like, if she comes then it’s real for her, too. It means something. If she’s there, we can figure it out.”

“And that’s the only way? It’s only real if I do this one thing? Doesn’t matter how we feel?” You laugh, exasperated, and you’re up and halfway to the door. “That’s bullshit, Seokjin. How am I supposed to live up to these expectations you’ve got of me if you never tell me what the fuck they are? You know, that’s—this is exactly what my family does, and you—you know that, what the fuck.”

“Hey, no—”

“I can’t belie—” Things go all glassy. Crystalline. You need to get out of here. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. I’m sorry.”

“Wait—”

You press harshly into your eyes. You’re not going to cry over this. “Good luck, Seokjin.”

[THE CHOICE]

Things come full circle during another two a.m. crisis.

You’d stared at the ceiling. Scrolled mindlessly through your phone. Ignored Seokjin’s texts and thought about texting Hobi but decided it wouldn’t be fair and instead went cross-eyed watching some questionable late night paid program. Tried to disregard the crippling weight on your chest. Couldn’t. Thought about what Namjoon might do, because he seems well-versed in these sorts of crises, and looked up Sartre quotes on the internet. Got as far as one and quit, both because it hit too close to home and because all you can think about is your last two a.m. crisis.

Seokjin’s voice had been so soft. It wouldn’t have that same tenderness if you called him now and that stings, knowing you had a good thing, something velvet, and you let it go.

And still you think about Namjoon, about the ethics of conservation: when to preserve and when to let die. Does preservation ensure survival, or does it stave off the inevitable? It all gives you a headache, because nothing is guaranteed but that doesn’t mean you don’t try.

Jimin goes to Milan. Taehyung posts a selfie looking sad and beautiful on some balcony in Paris. You don’t want to be like them, doing some perpetual song and dance. Resisting an obvious thing.

Your brother answers on the second ring.

“Hello?” Groggy and confused. A voice you’ve heard a million times that still feels indistinguishable from a stranger’s.

“I can’t come to your wedding.”

A moment of silence, both literally and for your trust fund. “Uh, okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you rush out, because it feels important to say even if you don’t necessarily feel sorry. “I, uh—I am sorry, because I like your fiancée and I know this is probably a huge inconvenience considering your wedding is in a few hours, but I can’t—”

There’s some rustling. You don’t think you’ve ever talked to your brother in the middle of the night before. “It’s really fine.” He yawns. “This couldn’t wait ‘til the morning, though?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Why do you sound like you’re about to have a panic attack?”

A lightbulb moment: he doesn’t know. “I am. You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That Mom and Dad threatened to cut me off if I didn’t show up at your wedding with a date.”

More silence. Then, slowly, the trickle of laughter. Just a quiet snort at first, and you’re a little confused, wonder if you should be laughing too, if he’s laughing at you, and then it compounds until he’s nearly in hysterics. “Oh my god.” He’s almost shrieking. “Holy shit. That’s why you brought that guy to dinner, isn’t it? The one they hated?” It’s the first time you’ve heard him sound like this.

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking hilarious. Fair play.” You wonder why you’ve spent two-plus decades hating this man on the other end of the line. “Okay, then. Why can’t you make it?”

You talk until you’re hoarse: about the competition, the fake relationship that hasn’t been all that fake for weeks, about the trust fund and growing up under the weight of your family’s money and expectations and always coming in third behind societal ass-kissing and your brother. You’re not looking for an apology but you get one anyway. A heart-to-heart in a moment that’s not entirely built for one, because the sun is coming up and your brother is still getting married in a few hours even if you won’t be there to witness it.

“All right, I really gotta go, but listen: I’ll talk to them, okay? And I’m rooting for you. Maybe in a few weeks you and Seokjin can come over for dinner, if it all works out.”

“Yeah, sure.” You agree readily, and it’s nice to have someone that shares your name in your corner. “I’ll make sure he behaves.” Your smile drops, chest cracked in half. “If it works out.”

Your brother says goodnight and wishes you well. Hangs up, and the silence is deafening and consolatory. You think about the Sartre quote again: Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.

Whatever happens, you think you’ll do just fine when it’s on your own terms.

Perhaps naively, you expected the day of your brother’s wedding—and subsequently Seokjin’s competition—to be gloomy. Of course, the weather is perfect. Mid-70s, light breeze, cloudless blue sky. When you’re wounded everything feels like an attack, so maybe before it would’ve felt like the universe was mocking you, saying look how beautiful and intact the world is when you’re falling apart, but you see something else.

You’d done a lot of thinking. Soul-searching and introspection and all those uncomfortable, vulnerable things you and Seokjin had talked about before, and you’ve made it to the other side, so a cloudless blue sky on a beautiful afternoon doesn’t feel like an attack. What you see is clarity being reflected back at you.

But it still takes a lot of courage. Instead of putting on a stunning, designer dress and painting on a smile to pacify your family and anyone else important enough to be granted entry, you’re pulling on normal clothes and normal shoes. It doesn’t matter if your hair and makeup are done. Everything feels wrong for a moment, like you’re forgetting something important, and you suppose that’s normal. This is arguably the biggest and most consequential decision you’ve made thus far in your life. No wonder you’re out of sorts.

Normally, this is where you’d compartmentalize. Tuck all that discomfort away for later: a problem for Future You. But that had been your go-to for years, and it did nothing but turn you into an emotionally constipated mess, so you’re done with that—trying to be done with that. Which is fine, because you don’t have a plan, not really, but sometimes it’s enough to simply show up, so that’s what you’re going to do.

Rejection is likely. You’re smart enough to know that, and you’re mature enough to accept it, if it comes down to it. But you don’t want Seokjin to feel rejected. Not again. That’s more important. So you’re going to show up, heart on your sleeve, and if he rejects you, fine, but you’re going to be there. And you’re going to cheer when he wins, even if your voice is drowned out.

Another packed event. It helps to feel anonymous when your sympathetic nervous system is working overtime like this. You’re trembling by the time you find a spot—a little out of the way, no room left on the bleachers. Seokjin probably won’t see you here, wouldn’t think to look, and it’s okay. You’re here for him but you’re here for yourself, too. Just to prove you can. Just to prove that you’re still human.

It all goes by in a blur. The skaters you don’t recognize, some you do. Scores that are both meaningful and meaningless until they aren’t. Seokjin’s name gets called and your stomach drops, but it’s okay. You see Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jeongguk, all nervous energy and bit fingernails and cautious smiles. They don’t see you, but it’s okay.

Two runs happen in a nanosecond. Seokjin holds steady in third. The guy sitting in first falls on his final run, and it’s best of three so you’re not breathing easy yet but your fingers start tingling with anticipation. The guy in second does well but nothing good enough to improve his score. Your phone’s blowing up in your pocket. Presumably your brother’s told your parents by now, and you can wait just a little longer to get cut off. What’s in front of you is more important, it is, and you know it when—

Call it divine intervention, but Seokjin looks up just as he’s about to drop into the bowl. Looks right at you, and the tingle spreads from your fingers all over. Another freeze-frame moment; the two of you are getting good at this.

He smiles. He wins.

Feels a bit like falling in love.

As always, thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

#btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #bts imagines #bts scenarios #seokjin imagine #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x you #jin x you #bts fanfiction #bts fic #seokjin fanfiction #jin fanfiction #seokjin fluff

[isaacswhy]

friend

isaacwhy x gn!reader (sfw) summary: you and isaac just got into a relationship, you're moved into the big house, but things are new. isaac doesn't know how to talk.

The summer heat was too much for you. It wasn't uncommon that you stayed indoors while the boys ran around outside, just barely avoiding injury. You worried for them sometimes, but everything washed away when Isaac was around. He'd come in early or stay the whole day inside with you, cuddling up with you on the couch.

It had only been a few months since the two of you became official. A month ago, you had moved into the big group house with all of the boys. Nothing had prepared you for this new life, but you didn't mind it as long as you were spending it with Isaac. He was sort of a protector against the rest of the guys. Every time someone made a joke that stepped over the line, Isaac was the one to put his foot down and was willing to kill the mood if it meant you were okay.

The rest of the group had just clamored in from spraying each other with water guns for a video and where sopping wet, which mildly infuriated the two of you.

"Are you serious?" You asked, "Please stop getting everything wet."

Blake laughed. "We forgot to bring the towels outside! Sorry!"

"You gotta be kidding me." Isaac stood up from beside you, "You guys are cleaning up this mess once you're dry."

"Sorry, daddy Isaac," Nick joked.

Isaac just shook his head and took his spot back next to you. The two of you chilled out together as the commotion now in the bathroom continued. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you close, your head rested against his chest. You heard the loud noises of laughter getting louder as the guys poured into the living room once again.

"God, you two are gross," Larry scoffed.

"You just wish you were in my place," You retorted.

Larry shook his head, but a wide grin was across his face. "You got me there. I would die to get Isaac's big, strong arms around me."

"You're fucking weird." Isaac bit back.

"Seriously, though, you two gotta stop clinging onto each other like you'll never see each other again. It's embarrassing to live around." Tanner joined in.

"What? No, we're friends, dude!" Isaac shouted.

"Friends?" You looked over to him.

"Well- you know, we're.." He trailed off, his gaze averting from you.

"Spit it out already, will you?" You said.

"Together, right? We're together?"

You wriggled out of Isaac's grasp and stood up, looking down at him. "I hope you can figure it out."

It shouldn't have been something that set you off, but it did. You stormed back to your room, which you hated in the moment that you shared it with Isaac. You shut the door and locked it, laying on the bed and scrolling through your phone. You wanted to be exclusive and have dumb labels with Isaac, not just be some weird "friends" with him.

It didn't take very long before a knock came and Isaac's voice followed.

"Hey, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know what to say and.. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I just don't know what to call this thing between us, you know?"

You sighed, finally standing up from the bed and walking over to the door, unlocking and opening it. You looked up at Isaac with an uninterested look on your face.

"This 'thing' between us is more than a thing to me, Isaac. You're my boyfriend, aren't you?"

"I am! I am your boyfriend! I'm fine with you calling me that, I'm just.. god, I'm screwy with my words."

"If you need help, I want you to be able to ask for it."

"Okay. Um.." Isaac fidgeted with his hands, "What would you like to call this?"

"A relationship. We're dating. I'm your partner. We're together, yes, but I don't want it to be some shaky word that sounds like a 'maybe'. I want it to be us. Okay?"

"Okay. I like that. Dating. Relationship. All that."

"God, you're such a weirdo. Come here."

You embraced Isaac, and everything felt lovely again. Larry was right, his big, strong arms were a dream to be held in.

#tgc #tgc x reader #the group chat #isaacwhy #isaacwhy x reader #yumi #yumimain #grunk #larry croft #big t #softwilly

[graceloveswolves]

He Takes Your Pain Away

Derek:

He would be very soft, not saying a word as he rested his hand on you. He’d start to question you about why you didn’t tell him you were in pain. When you tell him you didn’t want him to be in pain because of you, and insisted it didn’t hurt that bad, he’d pretend to take it personal that you seriously thought he couldn’t handle a little pain.

Scott:

He wouldn’t notice you were in pain, it would’ve been by sheer accident when he went to grab your hand to hold it. He’d sense your pain and start questioning what was wrong and what had happened. Of course, as he takes it away for you. He would feel bad that you weren’t comfortable enough to tell him and he would totally reassure you that even if you are in the slightest discomfort to not hesitate to ask him. He loves being able to help people and most certainly you. Probably say something about you deserving the pros of a werewolf boyfriend since you stick through the cons.

Stiles :

He is not a werewolf thus, can not take away your pain. However, he would look up all the possible remedies to soothe you. Give you a blanket, water and tell you to drink the whole thing. No ifs, ands, or buts. Debate on taking you to the hospital. Calling Melissa and bugging her every 5 mins. Sarcasm and bad jokes to make you distracted. Probably force Scott to take your pain even if he was hundreds of miles away.

Isaac:

Isaac was used to pain. His dad used to beat the crap out of him. So it would slightly break his heart whenever you were in pain. He actually always does these little “checks” occasionally. Whenever you fall or accidentally get hit by something, he would sneakily find a way to put his hand on you to make sure you were okay. You pretend like you don’t know what he’s doing for his benefit. Just makes you love him even more.

Liam :

He is new to the whole “werewolf” thing. But one of the things he’s mastered is taking pain. Your pain mostly. You protest but it’s pointless, he’s very sweet and will always assure you he can handle it. And makes a joke about how you make him stronger. And he will probably mention how it’s his fault in the first place for not watching out for you.

Brett:

Would be so smug about it. Would probably jokingly ask you how many guys you know that can do that. But then drop his smug smile when you start listing off your supernatural friends. He would ask you again if you are okay just to make sure.

Theo :

Proceeds to ask you who was responsible for it. Even if you insist it was just you, he’d try to find someone responsible for it and make them pay. Be such a protective softy. And hold your hand the entire way home, repetitively asking you if you were sure no one was involved in hurting you. Because no one messes with his love.

Aiden :

He would be more worried about you in the moment. Have Ethan go see what happened. Use it as an excuse to be glued to your side for the rest of the week. Literally. Whenever you guys were separated Ethan was in your shadows, being your body guard. Totally playing funny jokes on them and having Scott plan a getaway at school.

————————

I went back through my Teen Wolf preferences and added Aiden because I forgot how much I love him. Majorly disappointed in the lack of Gifs of him and his brother.

#werewolf x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf one shot #teen wolf preferences #teen wolf imagines #derek hale x reader #aiden steiner #ethan steiner #scott mccall x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #brett talbot x reader #liam dunbar x reader #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken imagine #stiles stilinski imagine #derek hale imagines #scott mccall imagine #liam dunbar imagine #aiden Steiner imagines #preferences #theo raeken #Isaac Lahey #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #Liam Dunbar #Brett Talbot #stiles x reader

[absgay]

"There’s so many lines I’ve crossed unforgiven. I’ll tell you the truth, but never goodbye. (part 3)

words count: 3,9K.

warnings: 18+, violence, angst, bloody mess, smut, fluff, mentions of death, grammar, owen, idk tbh. (she/her pronouns)

summary: friends don’t look at each other this way, do they? You couldn’t stop thinking about her, things will never be the same.

part one, part two.

• You guys were supposed to watch a movie together. But it didn’t take much time for Abby to turn this innocent and friendly activity into something way more fun. “Shit, shit…” you moaned softly, your head falling against the wall. Abby’s hands pulled you closer to the edge of the desk as she buried her face between your thighs, groaning against your cunt. “God— Where did you learn how to— When did you become so good at this, Abby?” you mumbled between short breaths. “I’ve been training,” she kissed your inner thigh. “There’s a lot of women who want to end up on my desk.” you looked down, moving. “Asshole.” Abby smirked, hands holding you back. “I’m not done.” she explained, nose teasing your clit as she stared at you. “I don’t care— Fuck.” you murmured and looked away, blushing as the blond smiled proudly. “Wait, I’m supposed to meet Owen at five.” As soon as the blond heard the man’s name, she frowned, holding your thighs tight, fingers buried deep into your flesh, almost bruising it. “It’s not what you think it is.” you said, sensing the jealous aspect of this sudden move. “We’re having a meeting with Isaac as well. We’re planning our next mission.” Abby pulled back. “Wait— Don’t stop.” you whined, breathless. “But I thought you weren’t on the list anymore.” you sighed and watched the blond getting up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she waited for an explanation. “I talked with Isaac yesterday and we both agreed that it’s important for me to find—” Abby huffed. “Bullshit. It’s dangerous out there, you’ve been stabbed three weeks ago, it's too soon.” Abby moved to the side as you walked by and put your panties back on. “I feel claustrophobic here, I need it.” you explained, arms crossed. “I won’t be alone.” Abby hummed, unconvinced. “What’s bothering you the most, Abby? The fact that I’m gonna start patrolling again or the person who’s gonna come with me?” she rolled her eyes. “We’re just friends.” Abby chuckled, a little mean. “Like that stopped you before.” you frowned, laughing nervously. “Jesus Christ— What’s wrong with you? What’s that supposed to mean?” Abby remained silent as she stared at you. “Get out of my room, Abby.”

• “Hey, I’ve been looking for you.” Owen said walking in the infirmary. “What’s up? What are you even doing here?” you turned around. “Well— Mel needed help down here and I had nothing else to do…” he smirked. “Look at you, you’re such a nice and reliable friend.” you both chuckled. “That’s me.” Owen looked at you as you started to rearrange the medical equipment, saying nothing. “I talked with Abby.” Your heart tightened in your chest. You hummed and looked away, acting unbothered. “Actually— She came to me this morning and threatened to murder me if anything happened to you tomorrow.” you smirked. “Sounds like something she’d say.” Owen nodded, approaching you. “She’s very protective, this one.” he said. “I told her not to worry about it. I’d never let anything bad happen to you.” The blood rushed to your cheeks as the man stared at you deeply, an idiotic smile on the face. You chuckled nervously, stepping back. “Am I interrupting something?” You turned around in a hurry, relieved as you recognized Abby’s voice. “What the fuck— What happened to your face?” you asked, running towards the injured woman. “Scars are getting closer to the stadium.” Owen frowned as you gently held the blond’s face, examining it. “Isaac wants to see you, Owen.” Abby said. The blond’s ex-boyfriend walked out, a bit confused. “Sit on the bed, I’m gonna take care of it.” Abby nodded and waited, watching you running around the room as you collected the right supplies. “You’re really good at this…” you hummed, treating the cut on her cheek. “I used to be the group’s medic, in the past.” Abby nodded. “Do you still think about it?” you glanced at her. “About them, what happened to you?” you sighed. “Not as much as I used to.” you admitted. “Does that make me a mad person? I feel guilty sometimes.” Abby frowned. “Of course not.” she paused. “My father— He got killed when I was seventeen years old. It took me years to move on.” You stared at the blond, a little shocked as she dropped the bomb. Obviously, you knew that Abby’s father had died, but she had never felt comfortable enough to tell you anything about it, until now. “I’m really sorry about our fight…” she added. “Which one?” Abby laughed. “You’re not the best at communicating, Abs.” The blond’s eyes widened. “That’s unfair.” you frowned. “I used to think that you were mad at me because you secretly still had feelings for Owen, it tortured me for days.” she rolled her eyes, smirking. “Come on, this one is all your fault.” you gasped, then chuckled. “You’re the one who put that idea in your little head. How could you even consider it after what had happened at the aquarium?” you shrugged. “We were drunk, Abby. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. It was very confusing for me and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make it even more complicated than it already was.” Abby smirked. “Friends, is that all we are?” you sighed peacefully, staring at her with eyes filled with love. “Best friends…” You both laughed, Abby’s nose bumping into yours as she kissed you.

• Abby read while you napped in her arms. She couldn’t stop looking down at you, smiling to herself as an intense happiness rushed to her, the usual whenever you were around. “Hey— Shit. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” you murmured, sitting down against the headboard. “I’m used to it at this point…” Abby chuckled. “Right— Fuck you.” you sighed, touching your forehead. “Is everything alright?” she asked, closing the book as she looked at you. “I don’t feel so good. I have nightmares, again.” She hummed, an arm wrapped around you. “Do you wanna talk about it? Maybe— I don’t know, it could help.” she said. “I’ve never really talked to you about what happened to me. I didn’t know how to—” you sighed. “I don’t want you to be disappointed or—” Abby shook her head. “Wait, what are you talking about? Why would I ever be disappointed?” you started to cry, the blond holding you tight against her chest as your head fell against it. “It’s okay— We don’t have to talk about it, it’s fine.” she said. “I watched them die, Abby.” you cried. “I— One of my friends told me to hide and I did, I watched them die and didn’t do anything, they’re all dead because of me.” Abby sighed. “Don’t say that— You’d be dead too, it wouldn’t have changed anything, you couldn’t save them.” you huffed. “I wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt.” Abby’s arms pulled you away from her chest, her thumbs wiping your tears as she held your face. “Hey, look at me—” you nodded. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, it wasn’t your fault. There’s one thing you can do to honour them, which is moving on, they’d want you to keep going. Whoever told you to hide, saved your life.” You didn’t say anything, because you didn’t have to. Abby kissed your forehead and whispered: “It’s okay, I’m right here baby.”

• “Do you really have to leave? It’s late.” you asked, obscene ideas running around your head as you moaned quietly, the blond kissing your neck. “We could’ve actually watched a movie tonight.” Abby chuckled. “We both know how it would've ended.” she said. “Trust me, I’d rather stay here with you but this mission is important.” you frowned. “Wait, where are you going? What’s happening?” you pulled away as Abby remained silent. “What’s going on, Abby?” She sighed, then looked at the window. “There’s something wrong, we’ve seen too many Scars in our area lately, it’s uncommon. Isaac thinks they’re planning something, something bad.” you sighed. “Fuck this— I’m coming with you.” you walked to the desk, grabbing your backpack. “Absolutely not.” Abby said as you started to pack your things. “For once, I’m gonna need you to listen to me. You’re gonna stay here at the stadium, I need you safe.” you scoffed. “Right— You really thought I was gonna stay here?” Abby sighed. “Of course not, I knew you’d be hard to convince but—” she huffed. “I won’t be able to protect you out there.” you frowned and turned around, approaching the blond. “You still haven’t told me. Where are you going?” she looked down. “The island…” your mouth dropped. “I know, I know— It sounds really bad. But we’re gonna spy on them, that’s all.” you frowned. “What if something goes wrong, huh? What if you guys get caught? Nobody comes back from this fuckin’ island, Abby!” you stepped closer. “So what— I’m supposed to sit here and wait? Wondering if you’re dead or not?” you asked. “I don’t plan on dying.” you rolled your eyes. “Please— Don’t do this to me right now.” Abby begged, eyes watering. “If things are really that bad, we could leave together, leave this shit, leave it all behind.” Abby frowned. “Come on— I can’t do that. Isaac counts me, they all do.” you sighed. “Is this really how you wanna spend the rest of your life? I don’t wanna live between these walls forever.” Abby didn’t want to have this conversation right now, she had too much on her mind already. She looked away, heading to the door. “Owen and Manny are waiting for me.” you walked with her, grabbing the blond’s hand as she touched the handle. “Wait— Abby.” you both stared at each other, trying not to cry as this felt like an actual goodbye. “Be careful.” Abby nodded, her hand reaching for your cheek as she leaned in to kiss you one last time. It was warm and gentle, it always felt so right to be this close to her. It pained Abby to pull away, forehead pressed against yours as she sighed deeply. “I love you.” you murmured, tears rolling down your cheeks as she closed the door behind her without looking back.

• “It’s been twenty four hours.” Of anxiety, paranoia and distress. “I know but— You need to calm down.” Nora said as you walked down the hallway, feeling sick and disoriented. “Stop— Don’t touch me!” you snapped at the brunette, stepping in Abby’s apartment. “You’re not going anywhere, Y/N.” Nora said. “I’m supposed to keep an eye on you while she’s gone. She knew you’d try something.” you frowned. “Does anyone even care about— It’s driving me insane, we need to start looking for them, Nora!” You both turned around, hearing screams from the outside. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Holy shit— It might be them.” you glanced at Nora. “Come on.” you walked out, and ran through the crowd as you tried to approach the garage area. “Abby!” you yelled out, searching for her. She turned around as soon as she recognized your voice, ignoring everyone’s questions and remarks. “Abby!” you screamed relieved, running straight into the blond’s arms. “I thought you were—” she held your face, kissing you passionately as the crowd watched. “What happened?” you breathed, pulling away. “Where are Owen and Manny?” Abby glanced at the others, then back at you. “We need to talk, in private.”

• “We’re leaving tomorrow.” Abby said as she walked into your bedroom. “You should start packing your things right now, the bare minimum, we might have to walk.” She talked fast. “It’s not gonna be easy, we’ll have to—” you frowned. “Wait, wait— I thought you didn’t want to leave.” Abby turned to look at you, pointing at the window. “Yesterday, I— I almost got killed, I thought I was not gonna make it and the only thing I could think about out there was you.” she said. “The Scars are gonna attack the Stadium, they wanna take back Seattle, which means… Isaac wants us to attack first. It’s gonna end in a blood bath, people are gonna die. I don’t wanna participate in this, I don’t wanna die here.” you sighed. “But, there’s children here…” Abby’s hand reached for yours, the blond noticing the distress in your voice. “Isaac asked me to lead the first team, you’ll have to be on the third one, the one who’s going to the Hospital. He’s gonna send many different groups to different locations to cover more surfaces, they’ll do the same. This way, it might be more complicated for them to approach the Stadium. I’ll be at the marina in the morning, I’ll find a way to sneak out right before they leave for the island and I’ll come get you throughout the day.” you looked at her attentively as she explained the plan, a bit nervous. “We’ll walk to the aquarium, take Owen’s boat and leave.” you nodded. “What happened to them?” Abby’s eyes filled with sadness as she looked away, jaw clenched. “I won’t let it happen to us….” she said. “Okay— We should steal some supplies, food and ammo. Hopefully, we’ll find some things on the road too.” she said. “I’m gonna head back to my apartment and pack my things, do you mind if— I don’t wanna sleep in my own bed tonight.” She sounded different, distant and cold. You knew it had nothing to do with you though, she was traumatised by the events of last night, she needed some rest. “Not at all.” you reassured her. “I could do it for you, I mean— I understand it might be hard to— There’s manny’s belongings everywhere.” The blond kissed your cheek. “Don’t worry about me, I got it. Go talk to Isaac about the Hospital, I’ll meet you for dinner.”

• “Hey… It’s time for me to leave.” Abby murmured. “I’ll meet you at the Hospital.” you turned around in bed, facing her. “Be careful…” you murmured back in the dark. “You’re gonna have to stay focused on yourself today, don’t think about me, don’t let it distract you, think about your own life.” you hummed. “I’ll come get you as soon as I can.” In the morning, you looked at your bedroom one last time, feeling nostalgic as you stepped out and closed the door behind you.

• “No, no, no— Shit!” Abby shouted. She ran through the woods, listening to the gunshots and explosions coming from the Hospital. She approached the area in worry, looking around her as the Scars and Soldiers we’re fighting outside the building. “Fuck me.” she mumbled, running low on ammo. She sighed and walked discreetly near the closest entry, trying not to stare at the ridiculous amount of dead bodies laying on the ground. “Kill them!” A man shouted, a soldier’s body flying through the window and falling right at Abby’s feet as she covered her face. She used the broken window as an opportunity to step in, and killed the two Scars standing by. She didn’t want anyone to see her, she couldn’t risk getting caught by another Soldier, it was not gonna be easy to find you. A door slammed open as she walked by a hallway. “Get off you fuckin’—” you yelled and groaned, slamming the woman against the wall and shooting her in the head. “Shit.” you murmured, breathless and exhausted. Abby glanced at the enormous blood stain on the wall as the woman’s body fell at your feet, then looked back at you. “Dammit.” Abby said. “Look at me— Are you hurt?” she asked, genuinely worried as some dirt and blood covered your face. “I’m fine, it isn’t mine— I’m okay.” you breathed in and out, the blond holding you tight against her chest. “I came as soon as I heard it on the radio. I didn’t expect them to attack first, especially here, it took me by surprise.” she said. “Me too…” Abby chuckled. She had never felt more grateful in her entire life. “It’s a fuckin’ mess outside. We’re gonna have to run, do you have any ammo left?” you nodded. “Great. Whatever happens out there, you’ll keep running no matter what.”

• “Nora’s dead…” you said. “I figured.” Abby responded, emotionless. Her reaction surprised you, your muscles hurting as Abby walked faster, leaving you behind. She stared at the road, avoiding anything that could potentially lead to a breaking point. “It’s getting dark, we’re gonna have to find somewhere to stay for the night.” You ended up in an abandoned apartment complex. The area seemed calm, for now at least. You waited outside as Abby checked one to make sure they weren’t any infected in it, then she invited you in. “Did you abandon your team at the marina? How many people are gonna die until—” Abby huffed. “Come on— Isn’t it what you wanted? To leave it all behind. What was I supposed to do, Y/N?” She was losing it, in the worst way possible. Abby’s mouth dropped as you looked down and walked away. “I never wanted anyone to die, I didn’t even think about it. I never expected anything like this to happen.” you said, sitting on the couch. “I know, I know— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m just tired.” Abby said. “Do you think they’re gonna come after us?” you asked. “I disappeared as soon as I heard about the attack on the radio. But, they’re attacking the island tonight, they’ll be busy, they won’t bother.” she explained. “We should eat something.” You hummed in disagreement and shook your head as the blond sat down next to you. “Come on, baby. It's been a long day and tomorrow won’t be any different, you’re gonna need it.” you smirked. “You’ve been using nicknames and pet names lately, it’s new, it’s pretty uncommon coming from you.” You both smiled, Abby’s hand resting on your thigh as she stared at you lovingly. “I know things aren’t great at the moment, it’s actually really bad…” she chuckled. “But, one day we’ll have the life we deserve.” you leaned forward and kissed her. “In the meantime, there’s something really fun we can do.” you whispered, the blond smirking as you pulled away and opened your backpack. “Okay, that’s absolutely not what I had in mind.” Abby said, glancing at the book in your hands. “It’s the last book of the series!” you said happily, which made her laugh. “But don’t worry, we’ll have sex too, eventually…” you chuckled. “Eventually…” Abby repeated, amused. “How I could I ever resist them?” you looked at the blond’s arm. “You like them, huh?” You hummed and felt the blood rushing to your cheeks as Abby leaned forward. “What about my hands?” she asked, her hand moving to your inner thigh. “I’ve got some good ideas, I could use them on you in so many different ways.” she said, staring at your mouth through the darkness, the moonlight barely illuminating the room through the curtains. “Come here…” you murmured desperately. You couldn’t hold it anymore, grabbing the blond’s collar and pulling her lips to yours.

• Abby sighed as she watched you sleep peacefully. She wondered what you were dreaming about, caressed your cheek gently and left the bedroom. She was overthinking when she sat down on the couch and looked at her hands, looked at Owen’s keys and at the blood stains on it. “You shouldn’t be here.” Owen had told the woman as they walked behind Manny. “You should've stayed with her at the Stadium… I know you’re thinking about it right now, you’re anywhere but here.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Come on— I’m not an idiot, I’ve seen the way you two looked at each other the other day at the infirmary.” Owen said. “It’s none of your business—” Owen’s hand caught the blond’s wrist. “I know things have been complicated between us, Abby. But seriously— It’s time for you to start focusing on yourself. You’re allowed to be happy.” Abby sobbed on the couch and covered her mouth, repeating the last sentence in her mind again, again and again until it broke her heart in thousands of pieces.

#abby anderson #abby anderson fic #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #the last of us part two #abby tlou2 #tlou2 fic

[its-time-to-write]

ch. 6 - hustling for the good life

table of contents

I’m not projecting I’m not projecting I’m not projecting

forever is the sweetest con

Natalie’s waiting by the door when you come home.

“How was it?” she asks before you can even take your coat off.

“It was fucking amazing,” you sigh. “Gonna suck when we have to break up.”

Natalie gives you a look, that strange one that she sometimes has when she thinks you’re acting like a robot.

“You know that it doesn’t have to end like that, right?” she asks. “You know you deserve happiness and real love no matter what it looks like, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, refusing to look her in the eye. “Obviously.”

Natalies grabs your face with one hand and forces eye contact. “Say it with me: ‘I deserve love.’”

“I deserve love,” you mumble, looking at Nat’s hairline. 

“Nuh uh.” She wiggles your face with her hand. “Louder and with feeling this time. ‘I deserve love.’”

You say, “I deserve love,” a little louder and Natalie isn’t quite satisfied, but she lets you go.

“You don’t have to turn your life into art,” she says as you head to your room. “Sometimes you can just enjoy it all by yourself.”

—

Jamie on the other hand, is over the fucking moon. They’ve only got a couple more games until the season’s over, then he’s a free man and he can go wherever you are, following you around like a trophy boyfriend and he’s fucking great with that.

Yes, it’s only been one date, but he’s properly in love. 

went great keels he texts late after your date. gonna ask her out again.

Keeley responds with several thumbs up and pink heart emojis. And a black heart. That’s from Roy, she says.

Jamie’s pretty sure it isn’t from Roy, but he’ll accept it all the same.

—

Sam, Colin, and Isaac had accompanied him to the coffee concert, and they had been thoroughly briefed on Jamie’s mission to get you on a date. And properly threatened about keeping it to themselves.

“How’d it go mate?” Colin whispers at training the morning after the date. “What’s she like?”

“Fucking amazing,” Jamie says, taking extra care to stretch his hamstrings.

“What did you talk about?” Isaac asks. “Because she might throw all your deepest secrets in her next album. Got to be careful, bruv.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Nah, she ain’t like that. She’s pretty quiet, actually. Said she hates crowds. I think it gives her anxiety, like.”

“That has to be difficult to deal with in her career,” Sam adds, worried. “I wonder how she will do on her tour?”

Jamie shrugs. “Dunno, mate. Didn’t talk about it. But she’s proper fucking funny. Made me laugh so hard I snorted water out me nose.”

“And she’s still texting you?” Colin asks in mock disbelief. “That’s enough to give me the ick any day.”

They laugh and finish stretching before Roy can yell at them for gabbing like a bunch of schoolgirls.

—

Natalie’s words echo in your head for the entirety of the week. 

You can enjoy it all by yourself.

You make it your lock screen so you remember every time you check your phone to see if Jamie’s texted. 

You don’t have to turn your life into art. Sometimes you can just enjoy it all by yourself.

So you do. 

You attend Richmond’s remaining games, sometimes in the box with Rebecca and Keeley, sometimes in the stands with just enough red and blue face paint to be unrecognizable. 

You do end up in the papers, but not for anything major. Just a who’s who of sorts at the games, and you’re never once recognized by anyone when you’re in the stands. 

You always wait for Jamie in Rebecca’s office, where he swoops in and plants a kiss before traipsing to his car, where you’ll celebrate with the lads or commiserate over dinner. 

Apparently karaoke is somewhat of an AFC Richmond tradition and Sam convinces you to sing at least one song. 

“You don’t even have to try,” he says. “And you can make Jamie sing with you. He’s surprisingly good.”

“Fine,” you agree. “One song. And not one of mine.”

“Done!” Sam shakes your hand with a grin. You can’t help but grin back. 

You go to find Jamie, who’s perusing the song list with Isaac. He looks up with a smile when he sees you. 

“Babe, Isaac’s gonna do Adele,” he says. 

“It’s my speciality,” Isaac says. 

You laugh and say, “Sounds great, babe.”

You open your mouth to ask if Jamie wants to sing a song with you, but the words get stuck in your throat. What if people think you’re just trying to show off? All you want to do is jump around like an idiot with the rest of the team and their partners. 

Jamie, unnervingly, senses something’s up. He gently grabs your arm and steers you to a quieter corner. 

“You alright, love?” he asks softly. “We can leave if you need.”

“No,” you say tentatively, “No, I just- I was kind of wondering- do you want to sing a song together? I was thinking it would be kind of fun, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Jamie’s face splits into a grin. “Oh I totally fucking want to. D’you like ABBA?” 

You scoff. “‘Do I like ABBA,’ what kind of question is that? Of course I fucking like ABBA. You got a song you want to do?”

Jamie shrugs. “Dunno. You?”

You pause for a moment, thinking. Then-

“Oh my gosh I have the perfect one!”

Ten minutes later, you’re both on the stage with microphones as the music starts. 

As you begin singing the first lines of Super Trouper, Jamie begins harmonizing and it catches you so off guard that it startled out a laugh. 

He’s just being so silly with it, dancing and swinging you around, singing directly in Roy’s face and shimmying with Beard. You can’t help but smile along with him as he attempts to twirl you while still singing. The rest of the room is clapping and singing along, and you can’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

The song ends and Jamie helps you hop down from the stage, laughing and sweaty. 

“Well that was just a treat,” says Ted, but you only have eyes for Jamie.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that!” you exclaim. “I should take you on tour with me.”

“Had to sing, growing up with me mum,” Jamie says. “Tina Turner, Stevie Nicks, fuckin’… ABBA. All the classics. Didn’t really have a choice but to join her, did I?”

A shadow crosses your face.

“You alright?” Jamie asks for the second time that night. 

You’re just staring at him, trying to take slow, deep breaths as opposed to the shallow ones you currently have.

“Is it the people?” he asks as he pulls you out the door. “Ted? The song?”

You shake your head. “Tour,” you manage. “Oh fuck.”

Just saying it out loud causes your heart to speed up even faster.

You flex your fingers in Jamie’s hands, trying to ground yourself. 

This is the first time you’ve ever panicked in front of him, not counting the night you met. And god, it’s so embarrassing. 

Breathe, you idiot, you remind yourself. It’s not that hard.

“Did you know Isaac’s mum has two left hands?” Jamie asks conversationally, as if you’re not cutting off the circulation in his hand.

You pause. “…What?”

“Isaac’s mum has two left hands,” Jamie says again. “Weird, innit? How the fuck does that even happen? Does that mean her palm’s facing the wrong way?”

“I don’t know,” you reply slowly. “Never- never met anyone with two of the same hand.”

“I could ask Isaac for a picture,” Jamie continues, same strangely normal tone. “Wonder if anyone else in his family’s like that. Maybe Isaac’s got two left feet,” he says worriedly. “Come to think of it, never actually seen him without socks.”

That makes you laugh.

You take a deep breath and say, “Thanks. I um, I hate panicking in front of people. It’s kind of shit. Natalie’s usually good at covering for me in public. Same with my exes.”

Jamie nods. “Gaffer said you can shock people out of ‘em. Say something weird, like. He said it’s like scaring someone with hiccups.”

“That doesn’t actually work,” you say.

Jamie gives you a mischievous look. “We’ll find out next time you have them,” he says.

You’re quiet, and he takes the opportunity to gather you in his arms, resting his head on top of yours.

He asks, “Wanna talk about it?” to which you shake your head.

“Actually…” you hesitate. “I do. I keep thinking about my tour. I’m going to be gone for a bit and you have like, practice still even in the off season. Like, you have stuff to do. And this is my first tour and I don’t even know when I’m going to see you even when I’m in London, so that means that we’re probably going to break up and that freaks me out.”

Jamie nods, chin brushing across your hair. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. If we get to it.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that you almost believe him.

—

You don’t think about it. You won’t. You’re flying home soon and Richmond just finished their season, Dani scoring and equalizer that meant Richmond is going back up to the Premier League. It was fucking… amazing. You’ve gone from barely knowing the mechanics of football to sitting on the very edge of your seat while Jamie hands the ball off to a teammate instead of taking matters into his own hands.

You’re in the stands, practically on the sidelines, and you can see him mouth the words, “You got this, muchacho. It’ll be fun.”

Post-match, you sneak into the dressing room to jump into his arms.

And if there’s a picture in the papers the next of you out celebrating with the team that night, you couldn’t care less. You’d rather stay in bed with Jamie’s strong arms around your middle, whispering promises he doesn’t have a chance in hell to keep.

—

He drives you and Natalie to the airport to catch your redeye back to America.

“Oi,” he says as he pulls your luggage out of the boot, “text me when you land.”

Natalie politely looks away and makes a retching sound as you pull his head down for a kiss.

“I’ll see you soon,” you reply. “I… I mean, I-”

“I love you too,” Jamie says.

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