#don’t be mean about the writing pls it’s unedited and i’m sleepy

[tahdashi]

1:34 AM

gn!reader x oikawa. best friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, only one bed!

when you first invited tooru to your co-worker’s wedding, you told him you’d strictly be going as friends — just friends and nothing more. truthfully, you could’ve gone by yourself, but the thought of celebrating love alone left a foul taste in your mouth and a growing pit in your stomach. and when you brought up the idea to your best friend, he seemed excited to get dressed up and dance the night away on the dance floor. 

but here you are now with tooru’s arm hooked around your shoulder as he whines about how much his feet hurt, hiccups rhythmically leaving his pink lips.

“maybe you shouldn’t have had so much champagne then, dumbass,” you whine, dragging his body towards the hotel room he booked weeks in advance. he responds with a groan, pulling the room key out of his jacket pocket to unlock the door. 

you carry him to the bed — the only bed — and toss him haphazardly onto the cushiony mattress. he’s looking up at the ceiling with crimson cheeks and a giggle bubbling in his throat. 

“what in the world is this,” you ask him, walking over to obstruct his view of the bland ceiling. he simply looks over at you and then beckons for you to lie down next to him. 

“i’m not gonna sleep in the same bed as you, tooru! you’re drunk,” you rake your hands through your hair, and the frustration on your face brings tooru to a seat. 

“‘m not drunk, i just,” he hiccups again, then continues. “i just had a lot of fun tonight.” 

and you have to admit — it was nice to see tooru let loose a little bit tonight. he wasn’t worrying about his next game, or training, or even his team. he was there with you, with his warm hands on your waist as you danced to the vivacious music. even though his fingers found a home on your lower back, you couldn’t help but feel the lines blur a little bit — the ones that separated platonic from romantic, the ones that changed the meaning of his past “i love you”’s. because even though you knew he was an affectionate drunk, he was only affectionate with you (and perhaps he only felt comfortable getting drunk around you, not that you mind. taking care of him was like second nature to you). 

a soft sigh leaves your lips, and you’re taking your shoes off before helping tooru’s with his. you climb into bed with him. 

“just so you know, we’re putting a pillow in the middle. i don’t wanna smell your stinky breath in the morning,” you tell him with a playful glint in your voice. he looks back at you with his mouth forming an ‘o’. 

“my breath never stinks. you just don’t wanna be near me because we both know you’re clingy as fuck,” he laughs as you aggressively pat down the pillow between you two, as if your movements would make it stick in place. 

“you’re the clingy one! you wouldn’t even let me dance by myself!” 

“who dances alone at a wedding?” 

“i could’ve if i didn’t bring you,” you stick your tongue out at him and his cheeks rise in a smile. 

“why’d you bring me then, hm?” 

silence fills the room. he thinks about how lucky he is to be able to lay here with you, rosy cheeks and all. and maybe he is a little drunk, or maybe the timing just feels right. so he slowly lifts up the pillow between you two and places it behind him. his body shifts closer to yours, and you can feel your insides burning up because of the distance. 

“is it because you wanted to see me in a suit?” he shifts closer to you. you can smell the alcohol on his breath, but you don’t hate it. “or maybe you just wanted to dance with me?” 

his eyes drill into yours, those chocolate hues occupying your mind. you hate the way he’s smiling. you hate the way that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. you hate that he hasn’t closed the gap between you two. 

you don’t respond — you can’t. tooru’s hand finds that place on your lower back again, and you’re reminded of how his body was swaying against yours on the dance floor. his fingers are warm like the rest of his body, and he’s pulling you into his chest. this feels different than the times he’d console you when you’d cry, different than the times he’d hug you after his wins.

because this feels like his own victory. 

“are you okay with this?” he asks, his hand stilling on your back as he waits for a response. you nod, and he thinks that maybe he’s a little too drunk. do you want this as much as he does? what happens after tonight? 

tooru forces his tendency to overthink away into the back of his mind, and he begins to dance his fingers along your back like two figures waltzing to an orchestra. 

he likes this — he feels at peace like this. 

and in the morning, he feels the pounding in his head be replaced by pounding in his chest. he peers down at you with those chestnut eyes and pushes the hair away from your face. so once again, he lets his hand wander down to your waist, and you push yourself further into his body. 

sure, the lines have blurred a little bit, but tooru was hoping that it would happen anyway. 

#i wrote this a lil too quickly he was on my mind and i need to feed my brainrot #don’t be mean about the writing pls it’s unedited and i’m sleepy #i just like him a lot i think #sayu.writes #oikawa fluff #oikawa x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #i forgot how to tag drabbles oh my god rip this will have to do

[its-deputy-caleb]

Hey hey!!

I pretty sure you know what I'm here for, so I'll give two options, that way there is no pressure and you can choose whichever you feel in the mood for!!

Soft Micah, where he's drunk and feeling insecure and tells the reader why he loves them and how much they mean to him, ending with the reader being the big spoon and cuddling the rat man as he cries himself to sleep.

OR

Soft Sadie, where she confides in the reader about when she first joined the gang, how she felt when her husband was murdered, and how she never thought she'd find love again until she met the reader.

No pressure to do either! I will leave it in your talented and capable hands.

Don't forget how amazing you are and how much joy you bring with your writing.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

sksksks you know i'm gonna do both bc i love both these asks and soft clingy micah is my literal favourite. this is a total unedited mess but its my total unedited mess and i'm just the biggest sucker for making him all mushy so pls enjoy whatever the hell this is <3333.

(ill do the sadie ask in a different post and put the link here!)

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

Today was particularly strange, not because anything extraordinary happened but because your sweetheart, Micah, was nowhere to be seen.

Sure he had a tendency to run off on jobs and you couldn’t spend all hours of the day together but it was unlike him to leave you to wake up alone in your shared tent.

All day he’d avoided you. Normally you’d get a coffee and slowly wake up together, planning out your day which usually involved planning your next job together but Micah was no where to be found when you woke up with nothing but blankets around you.

He wasn’t loitering around the outskirts of camp, nor was he by the campfire cleaning his weapons. It was if he well and truly disappeared, but you knew who Micah was and you knew if he didn’t want to be found he wouldn’t be.

With that you left your search, busying yourself with chores and helping around camp and knowing that Micah would make his appearance when he wanted to be found. It was merely a matter of time, nothing more.

-

The first thing you noticed when you were returning to camp from doing a late night run into town for ammunition was that Baylock had been hitched with the other horses, something that wasn’t there this morning.

Your eyes scanned around camp, noticing instantly that the flaps to your tent were pulled shut which only happened when either of you were in there. You placed down the crate of ammo you were carrying, dusting your hands before walking over and slowly opening the flaps to let yourself inside.

The first thing you noticed was Micah sitting up abruptly with that sounded like a sniffle. He shuffled around, clearly trying to make himself presentable. Slowly, you held your hands out to him, clearly reading the almost heavy feeling to the room.

“Hey now… been looking for you, where’d you go?”

You sit down beside him, keeping your voice soft as if you were calming a spooked horse. You notice amongst the pillows and blankets the empty bottles of whiskey and his green neckerchief which was stained with his tears.

“Oh Mikes, c'mere…”

You wrap your arms around him, hearing a choked sob slip from him as you run your hands through his stringy hair. Your other hand slips under his disheveled and unbuttoned shirt to rub slow circles along his back as he cried into your neck.

Sobs and little whimpers leave him as you hold him, littering soft kisses in his hair and shushing him as best you could.

“It’s alright Micah... I’ve got you now.”

You pull him back slightly, holding his face in your hands as your thumb wiped away his tears that kept falling from his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere, just let it out sweetheart— I’m here.”

You watched as his bottom lip quivered and other rush of sobs fell from his mouth. He buried his face back into your neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you as if you’d ever let him go.

“You should go somewhere...anywhere but here— don’t know why you put up with an ugly old sod like me. Yer too good for me— deserve someone better— don’t waste yer time with me.”

Micah’s voice cracked at least twice, his words broken up with sobs and cries as he spilled out exactly what had been bothering him all day.

Your heart broke when you heard him, wrapping your arms around his back as you held him flushed against you.

“Hey hey don’t you say that, you are enough for me okay? I love you and there’s no one I love more in this world than I do you.”

Micah shakes his head, burying his face in your shoulder even further as tears soak your shirt.

“Look at me Micah…”

Slowly and reluctantly he pulls away, resting his elbows on either side of your legs as he still attempts to hide in your chest. You brush the hair from his temples that had been stuck down by streaks of tears, gently tucking his hair behind his ears as you waited for him to look at you.

“I want you to know that you’re not a waste of time… every day I get to spend with you makes me happy— you make me happy Micah.”

The look Micah gives you is one of pure hope and adoration. His crisp blue eyes are wide as you speak, the colour deepened from all the redness surrounding them. More stray tears fall from the corners of his eyes although they’re much softer now, his sobbing slowing to something more tame as he listens to your soothing voice.

You lean down, placing a gentle kiss to his lips and you note how he’s obviously chewed at his bottom lip sometime today. Micah practically melts into you, clearly in his softer clingy mood which always followed him whenever he got emotional and insecure.

Sitting up, you trace the scar on his chin as he leans into your hand like a scared little cat caught in the rain.

“And you’re certainly not ugly.”

Micah instantly shakes his head, sitting up and trying to pull himself out of your embrace but you don’t let him get far. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his tummy, resting your head over his shoulder as you watch him intertwine your hands together.

You kiss his cheek, leaning your head against his as you cuddle him.

“Yes you are— you’re my pretty boy, my sweetheart, my Mikey.”

You can hear him smile although he tries to hide it under his hair that’s flopped in front of his face that also served to hide the blush he had.

For a while you sit together just like that. Micah aimlessly fiddles with your fingers in his lap while you watch from over his shoulder, occasionally leaning down and pressing kisses all over his neck and shoulder.

“Love you too ya’know…ya always know the right things to say and ya always know how to make me feel loved. I’m real lucky to have you— even when I don’t deserve you, I’m a real lucky man indeed.”

Micah practically fidgets with your hands through his whole little confession and you squeeze them to reassure him, something he happily returns with desperate squeezes of his own.

“I love you more than you could kno—“

A yawn cuts through Micah’s words, his exhaustion (and whiskey) finally catching up to him as he leans into your hold. The sound makes you giggle, his yawn always making you smile at just how adorable it was no matter how badly he denied it.

“Common sleepyhead, bet you’re real tired.”

Again he looks at you with those wide hopeful eyes, although this time they’re much more sleepy as you roll him to lie down with you. You shuffled the empty bottles to the corner of the tent, placing his neckerchief beside his hat so the two of you had more room.

“You’ll stay?”

You smile, giving him a soft kiss before draping the blanket over the two of your and spooning up behind him. Usually he’d protest at being the little spoon but not today. Now Micah is nothing short of exhausted and you knew, without him having to say it, that he just needs to be cuddled and littered with affection.

“Course I am, won’t find me anywhere else but right here with you.”

You kiss the back of Micah’s neck before burying your face into his shoulder blades. Your hands ran soothing circles over his tummy and chest, waiting and feeling his breath even out. You didn’t move until you heard his soft snoring, finally allowing yourself to fall asleep too with a smile on your face and your arms wraps protectively around Micah.

Eventually, at some point in the night Micah had rolled to tuck his head in your neck and you woke with a large amount of dribble stuck to your shirt (something that made Micah go the colour of a tomato) but you didn’t mind a bit as long as he knew just how much you loved him.

#soft micah is my FAV #micah bell #micah bell x reader #soft micah hours #soft rat 🥺🥺🥺 #micah bell imagine #rdr2 #rdr2 writing #rdr2 headcanons #red dead redemption 2

[aliendes]

BTS reacts to saying something hurtful and then regretting it PT.1

gifs are not mine!

From this ask: hi, i wanted to request a bts reaction to them saying something hurtful in an argument and instantly regretting it? pls i need some angst/fluff 🥺

AN: WOOO this was a long one. Thank you for the request anon! I know you said angst/fluff, but this was a lot to write lol. This was my first time writing an angsty reaction. I typically write angsty stories, but not reactions, so this was fun! This is part one, if you want a part two, comment/send an ask! I’ll write it if there is interest. THIS IS UNEDITED I’M SORRY - Taehyung’s hurted  they all hurted. 

Warnings: cursing, name calling, mentions of mental illnesses (schizophrenia), being mean? Just really angsty ya’ll - I’m sorry! Oh and a tiny mention of blood, but it’s nothing serious. 

Word count: 4.8k~

Hearing the front door slam shut, you sit up straight in bed. Seokjin is home. You smile softly to yourself and look over at your bedside table. It’s 3:38 in the morning, way later than your boyfriend typically gets home, even during comeback promotions, and they didn’t have a comeback any time soon. Confused, you pulled the covers back and swung your legs out of bed. Walking over to your bedroom door, you slip on your house slippers and quietly open the door. 

Walking down the hallway, you immediately hear rummaging in the kitchen drawers. What is going on? When you round the corner, you are met with the sight of your tall boyfriend, dark hair a mess, rifling through your junk drawer in the kitchen. 

“Jin?” you asked, voice still sleepy and brow furrowed. 

Seokjin whips his head in your direction, ceasing his movements in the drawer. He has dark bags under his eyes, and he looks pale, like he hasn’t slept in days. You knew this to be false, since you slept in the same bed last night. “God damnit, YN!” he roared, walking towards you. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around your body and stiffened as he neared you. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Oh! I-I’m sorry,” you muttered, unsure of where Jin’s sudden anger was coming from, “I heard you-”

“You heard the door slam? Yeah, no shit, babe.” Jin walked up to you and was towering over you. You couldn’t decide if you thought he was mad at you or just mad in general. All you knew is that he was fuming. Jin never gets mad, so this had you all the more confused. Just as you were about to ask what was wrong, Jin stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall. You were left standing, gaping towards him, in the middle of the hallway. 

It takes you a moment to get a grip on reality again, but soon after you’re stumbling down the hall back towards your bedroom. You’re feeling a little upset by Jin’s attitude, but you chalk it up to a long day at work. Not thinking too much harder about it, you decide to just get back in bed, it is nearly 4 am now.

As you walk through the bedroom door, you find all the lights on. You squint your eyes and bring your forearm up to your head to block the bright lights from hurting your eyes. Just as you reach the bed, Jin comes out of your walk-in closet. 

“I’m sorry, am I inconveniencing you?” he taunts at the sight of you blocking your eyes, voice nothing like his typical calm and sweet demeanor. 

At this, you decide you’ve had enough. Sitting up from your place on the bed, you spin around and face your usually loving boyfriend. “Seokjin! What is the matter with you?” you try to voice calmly, but it comes out a little more high-pitched than you would like. You throw your arms up in defeat and let them fall limply to your sides. 

“Wrong with me? What do you mean, what’s wrong with me?! You’re the one who can’t seem to put things away!”

You blanch. What was he talking about? “What?”

“My fucking flash drive with all my lyrics on it!” he roars, stomping closer to you. You backup a step as he nears, making him pause and stare down at you. “You were the last one who had it, you wanted to take a look at the songs, wanted to give me ‘feedback’”, he uses air quotes, which only makes you angrier, he had asked you to give him feedback. “Now I can’t fucking find it because you can never put stuff away, you’re always so fucking messy!” he yells, taking the last few steps towards you so he’s looking down at you in an intimidating way. There is no way you’re taking this from him. 

You wrap your arms around yourself again and head straight for the closet and throw on leggings and a sweatshirt.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Jin yells, following you around as you quickly change, “you just gonna leave your messes like always?”

You abruptly stop what you’re doing and send him a glare, “Jin,” you breathe, “I’m trying not to let your shit mood ruin our relationship. Let me. Fucking. Go.” You push past him, shoes in hand, and head straight for your front door. Shoving your feet into your tennis shoes, you grab your backpack and keys, and slam the front door shut on your way out.

Your boyfriend is left standing, dumbfounded, in your shared bedroom. As he looks around him, he realizes what he’s just done. He’s been so caught up in the shit storm today has been that he took it out on you for no reason. It all started this afternoon when his manager asked him for his songs and he couldn’t find the flash drive, then he couldn’t get the choreo right at practice, and he couldn’t even get dinner because of how busy their schedules were. But all of that was no excuse for how he just treated you. In his reverie, he doesn’t hear the slam of the front door. 

Seokjin rushes out into the living room, hands running through his hair as he attempts to chase after you. He looks to the front door, frantically searching for you. He sees that your bag is missing and your keys are no longer on the key hook. Grabbing his jacket, he rushes out the front door, not even bothering to grab his phone or his wallet, just trying to get to you as quickly as possible before he loses you for good. 

“W-what?” your bottom lip trembles as you stare at your hot headed boyfriend. Staring across from his studio from you, are his dark eyes, narrowed and focused on your retreating figure. He had just called you the one thing you didn’t think he would ever throw in your face, he was the one person you never imagined calling you that. “Y-Yoongi-”

“You heard me, YN,” he bites back, “stop acting fucking crazy.”

There it was again. That word. Crazy. He knows it’s a soft spot for you. Your mom was diagnosed with schizophrenia when you were twelve, and you had a rough childhood growing up with her. You knew it ran in the family, and you’ve been terrified of the diagnosis for years, aware that it usually occurs in your early twenties. Yoongi was well aware of this fact, too. He tells you constantly that you are not, in fact, crazy, and that you aren’t going to end up like your mother. But now, standing across from you with his arms folded over his chest, he’s now said it. Twice. And for what? Because you’ve been on his ass the last couple of days about coming home from the studio, begging him to take a break? That was his reasoning. Despite you knowing it’s not true, it still hurt you beyond belief to hear those words coming from the only person in the whole world who insists they would never call you something like that, and now he’s stooping so low because he wants to hurt you. 

You back all the way up until the metal doorknob of Yoongi’s studio door is pushing into your lower back painfully. The feeling grounds you for a moment as you shake your head back and forth quickly, trying to remove the thoughts that your boyfriend has planted there. “I have to go,” you whisper, staring down at the ugly gray colored carpet.

Reaching behind you, eyes still trained on the floor, you crack open the door before turning and slipping out of it. Once the door is closed behind you, you take a second to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, closing your eyes tightly. You think you hear movement coming from the studio, but you don’t dare look back. Instead, you take off running down the hallway, unsure of where you were headed, just knowing you needed to get out of there. 

On your way out of the building, you don’t notice Jungkook yelling after you, nor do you notice that you’d forgotten your bag, jacket, and phone in Yoongi’s studio. You just run. 

Back in his studio, Yoongi is contemplating his life choices. Lips pressed together tightly, he sits in his comfy chair and leans his head back. He doesn’t deserve you. He deserves to burn in hell for what he just did to you. He knows it, yet he won't go after you. He knows you need time away from him. 

Yoongi is startled out of his thoughts by the maknae bursting through his door, hand over his heart, panting from the exertion of running up two flights of stairs. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook pants, “It’s YN, sh-she looked really upset, I-I tried to stop her but it was like she couldn’t hear me.”

“I know,” Yoongi says blankly, still staring at his computer.

Jungkook blanches, lips in a small ‘o’ as he lightly shakes his head back and forth in confusion. “What do you mean, you know?”

“I’m the reason she’s upset.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at the back of his edler’s head, “Hyung, she looked more than ‘upset’. She looked distraught.” Jungkook was getting mad at his member, unsure why he would be okay with you looking the way you did just now. 

“I’ll deal with it later, Kook,” he grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face, “leave it alone.”

“No, Yoongi,” he dropped the honorific, making Yoongi turn around in his chair to stare at his usually overly polite friend, “if you aren’t going after her, I am. Look-” he points to the coffee table, “all her shit is here. You’re really going to let her go like that?”

Yoongi glances at your stuff. Your bag, jacket, and phone are sitting right there in front of him. Shit. He sighs. “I fucked up.”

Walking into your apartment after work, you weren’t expecting to find Hoseok home. He usually doesn’t get home from work until really late at night, unless he’s off. Did you mix up the days again? 

Dropping your bag by the front door, you toe off your shoes and head down the hallway towards the sound of loud music playing. When you reach Hoseok’s home studio door, you gently knock three times, before pushing it open. 

Hoseok is sitting at his desk, a pair of headphones on, music programs open on his laptop. Smiling warmly, you walk over to him, placing your hands softly on his shoulders. You didn’t expect him to startle so violently, but he jumped at your touch, ripping his headphones off his head and standing up from his seated position. It all happened so quickly, it scared you and you jumped backwards, nearly tripping on the fuzzy rug behind you.

“Fuck! YN!” he roared, eyes heated and narrowed at you, “Can’t you fucking see that I’m working?!”

You took another step backwards, eyes blinking rapidly to stop the onset of tears that were threatening to fall. “I-I’m sorry Seok, I-I,”

“You what?” he asked menacingly, “You’re too dumb to notice my headphones. I’m working. Leave me alone.” Hoseok turns around, grabbing his headphones roughly and sits back down in his chair.

You swallow thickly, hot tears burning your eyes, as you take another step backward. This time, you aren’t as lucky, and your heel catches on the rug. In shock, you don’t catch yourself on the way down, falling right on your tailbone, probably bruising it. But in your state of disbelief, you don’t even feel it. 

Hoseok turns around at the loud thump, only to notice you on the floor, tears streaming down your face. Instantly, he regrets everything he just said to you. He’s had a bad day at work, unable to get any lyrics down on paper, and he just took it out on you. His eyes soften, but you don’t notice, too focused on scrambling to your feet and stumbling back down the hallway towards the front door. 

Hoseok stands, walking after you quickly, “YN- wait!”

But it’s too late, you’re already gone. You slipped on your heels and burst through the front door, still in your work clothes. Hoseok runs his long fingers through his hair, tugging at it in frustration, letting out a roar of anger. Could this day get any worse?

It’s been a rough week in yours and Namjoon’s household. At the start of the week, your car broke down, resulting in you having to borrow his, which resulted in him being late for practice multiple times this week. On Wednesday, there was a security breach in your company's database, making it so all employees on your floor had to work from home while they investigated. This meant you and Namjoon were spending more time together throughout the week, which normally wouldn’t be a problem, but your boyfriend has been extremely stressed about the new album that’s being released at the end of the year, and having you at home while he’s trying to write has been incredibly distracting. All of this has resulted in more petty arguments between the two of you, which seemed to come to a head tonight. 

“Joon, please put your laundry in the basket,” you grumble, picking up his dirty sweats and throwing them into the hamper you shared, “I’m working from home for now and I would like it to be clean.”

“Just because your job sent you home doesn’t mean you can hang around all day and tell me what to do. We’ve been living together for two years, YN, you know I leave clothes around.” 

You did know that, and you were sure that if you weren’t stuck in the house all day, it wouldn’t bother you. Much like it hasn’t for the last two years, like Namjoon said. But for whatever reason, the tension between the two of you was high. Both of you were looking for little things to fight about.

“Namjoon, please, just clean up after yourself,” you were exhausted. You didn’t want to argue with him, you just wanted to get back to your data report, but he had other ideas. 

“Can’t you just shut up for once?” Namjoon sneers, looking at you through narrowed eyes, arms crossed over his chest, and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Excuse me?” you bite back, turning around and glaring at your tall boyfriend, who was now walking towards you, arms still crossed. 

“You heard me, YN,” he growled, “just shut up and leave me alone. You’re always nagging me, it’s fucking annoying.”

That was it. You didn’t even offer a response, instead, turning around and grabbing your laptop. Walking over to the closet, you grab a backpack and shove some clothes and your laptop inside it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, coming towards you, “Where are you going?” His last sentence sounded a bit more panicked, the edge to his voice gone. 

“What does it look like, Namjoon?” you scoffed, still stuffing things into your bag, “You literally just told me to leave you alone. No problem.” Shoving the last of your stuff into your bag, you stomp out of the room, grabbing your phone, purse and keys from the coffee table. 

“YN-”

“No, Namjoon. You said to leave you alone,” you said blankly, staring up at his dark eyes, “goodbye.”

You turn on your heel and open the door, letting it slam shut behind you. 

Smiling to yourself, you push the button in the elevator, watching the sleek chrome doors close in front of you. You’d just picked up Jimin’s favorite takeout and we’re bringing it up to him in the practice room. It was your weekly routine, every Thursday after your last class, you’d come and have an early dinner with him before his late practice.

Stepping off the elevator, you could hear the loud music coming from down the hall in the practice room. Smiling even brighter at the thought of seeing your sweet boyfriend, you make your way down the hallway with the warm food in your arms. 

Pushing the door open with your foot, you instantly see Jimin and Hoseok dancing in the middle of the room. Deciding to not be a bother, you head to the corner and set the food down on the table, carefully taking everything out and plating it. After a few minutes, you hear the music cut off and Jimin and Hoseok talking intensely across the room. You don’t really pay attention, not one to eavesdrop, and patiently wait for your boyfriend to be done. 

After a few moments of what sounded like arguing, Jimin walks over to the table, placing a hand on the small of your back and leaning over to kiss the top of your head. You smile at the gesture, but when you turn around, it’s not Jimin, but your best friend, Hoseok in his place. “Hey bub,” he whispers, leaning down to speak into your ear, “I think you should go home.”

“What do you mean? It’s Thursday…” you trail off, looking behind your bubbly best friend to see your boyfriend, sulking in the corner, arms crossed, sitting on the floor. “What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hoseok says gently, smiling down at you, “I’m sure he’ll tell you later, but you know how he gets.” You nodded, because yes, you do know when he gets into these moods, he’s hard to talk to. 

“Okay, just let me make sure he’s okay,” you start to walk towards your boyfriend's small frame, but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, bub.” Turning towards Hoseok, you smile up at him, but he doesn’t return the gesture, sending worry down your spine.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, turning back towards Jimin. You don’t see the way Hoseok winces when you walk towards the younger man and crouch down next to him.

“Jimin?” you ask sweetly, making him glance up at you before fixing his gaze on the wall. 

“Please leave, YN,” he says flatly.

“I am. But, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and to let you know that I left food-” 

“You never fucking listen, YN!” Jimin screamed, standing up and making you fall back onto your butt. The force of the fall makes a loud thump on the wooden floor, making Hoseok rush over to make sure you’re okay. “I told you to leave!” You flinch as Jimin’s arms fly up in frustration.

Helping you up, Hoseok sends a pointed look at his friend, “Jimin,” he warns. Like a flip was switched, Jimin’s eyes instantly softened at the sight of you cowering in fear on the floor, your face pushed into Hoseok’s chest. Jimin realizes what he’s just done and immediately pulls his arms down to the side, horrified at himself for scaring you like that. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly. 

Wiping tears from your wet cheeks, you allow Hoseok to stand you up straight, before you’re taking off out of the practice room and back into the elevator you came up on. 

Hoseok sighs, watching your back as you fly down the hallway. When he turns to look at Jimin, the younger man realizes that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. At the realization of what he’s just done, he breaks down, knees hitting the floor, face falling into his hands. Hoseok doesn’t help him, he just walks away, in search of his broken best friend.

Taehyung lets his duffle bag slip off his shoulder and hit the floor with a muted thump. Walking further into your shared apartment, he sees your half-eaten dinner sitting in the kitchen sink, his portion packed away and on the countertop. He lets out a sigh at the sight. He knew he should’ve been home hours ago, knew he should’ve texted you to let you know, but it slipped his mind. He was so caught up at practice, he couldn’t be bothered to go and find his phone. 

Taehyung has had a really long day. First thing this morning, he was yelled at by his manager about something he had posted on Weverse the night before, and then it escalated into having to talk about the lyrics for his new song that he hasn’t been able to finish. He knows he’s been walking on thin ice with the company lately, but things have been getting better, or at least he thought they were.

Walking down the hall he noticed that your bedroom light is off, which is unusual. He checked his watch, it’s only 11 pm, not that late in your book. You were usually up until 1 or 2 in the morning. 

Pushing open the door, he sees your small frame curled up under the thin sheet on the bed, comforter pushed onto the floor. Upon hearing the door creak, you sit up slightly, turning towards the source of the sound.

“Taehyung?” you whisper into the darkness, not yet having fallen asleep, but incredibly exhausted from your workout earlier. 

“Hey,” he responds quietly. You can hear in his voice that something is wrong, and you immediately scramble to get out of bed and over to your boyfriend. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” you ask sweetly, looking at him through dark lashes. You’re so beautiful, even in your sleepy state that it almost hurts him. You’re too good for him. Always so caring and kind, even when he’s been the absolute opposite towards you. How can you always be so happy and optimistic? Even when the world is against you? He envies your positivity, and some days he wishes you would rub off on him a bit more. 

“Nothing,” he grunts, shaking your hand off his arm. The look of hurt that flashes across your face hurts his heart. He knows he’s being bitter and has no reason to be, sometimes it’s just hard being around your bubbly self when he’s become so self-loathing, “Just go to sleep.”

“Tae?”

“What,” it comes out harsher than he meant it to, making you flinch, face scrunching up in confusion.

“Did I- did I do something?” you ask quietly, biting your bottom lip a little too hard, nervous for his answer.

He lets out a rough sigh, “Yeah, actually,” he starts, “why can’t you just leave me alone for once? Just because you’re always happy and in a good mood, doesn’t mean I am.”

You shake your head in confusion, “I- I know, Tae. I’m sorry if my mood upsets you-”

“Stop!” he roars, making you step back, “Just, stop, okay?! Stop apologizing, stop being so nice, stop being so fucking perfect!”

You’re so taken aback and dumbfounded, you can’t think of words to say, instead forming a small ‘o’ with your lips and sulking backwards. You attempt to make yourself as small as possible, arms wrapped around your middle, head bowed low, as he continues his barrage.

“Just because you’re the fucking poster child for positivity doesn’t mean that everyone else has to be, too! I wish you would just get mad sometimes. You aren’t normal, YN!” The moment the words leave his mouth, he knows he fucked up. He doesn’t want you to get mad, he loves your personality. It’s one of the reason he absolutely fucking adores you. He doesn’t ever want you to be mad, or sad, but yet, as you stare back at him with glassy eyes and a bloody lip from how hard you’re biting it, all he sees is sadness. “YN- I,” he starts, but you’re already running into your shared bathroom and locking the door behind you.

He rushes towards the door but is too late, feeling a gust of air blow off of it from the force of being closed. Pushing his forehead against the cold wood, he lets out another sigh. Before he even has a chance to speak, he hears your broken sobs right on the other side. You must be leaning against the door, too. His heart crumbles into pieces at the fact that he just broke you. The love of his life, his sunshine, his world. 

Singing to yourself, you dance around your kitchen, prepping all the vegetables you have laid out for your dinner tonight. You were making a simple stew with vegetables and beef. It was one of Jungkook’s favorite recipes of yours and since he was off tomorrow, you wanted to surprise him with a nice cooked meal. 

Entering the apartment, Jungkook instantly smelled food cooking from the kitchen. It smelled heavenly, but his sour mood from the day and the fight he had earlier with Namjoon was enough to make him not hungry for whatever it was that you were cooking. 

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he drops his keys on the marble countertop, startling you. You gasp, dropping the knife you were holding onto the cutting board, instantly pulling your hand to your chest. Turning around, you notice your boyfriend staring at you curiously. 

“Fuck, YN,” he says, rushing over to you, “let me see.”

You hold your hand out to him, finger stinging in pain and eyes filling with tears at the feeling. He takes your hand carefully, looking over the superficial cut. “It’s not that deep, YN. Just get a bandaid.”

He releases your hand and you blink up at your normally kind and caring boyfriend. You could see the bags under his eyes and the exhausted look on his face, but something else was hiding just under the surface. You sniffle a couple times, fighting back the tears from cutting yourself. 

“I uh - I’m making dinner,” you say, trying to change the subject, embarrassed about cutting yourself and worried that he might be mad at you, “it should be done soon.”

“I’m not hungry,” he mutters, heading to the fridge to grab a water bottle, “I’ll be in the office.”

“Kook,” you say, walking after him, “wait, are you oka-” 

Before you could finish your sentence, your foot was catching on the kitchen rug, making you slip and fall forward directly into Jungkook’s back.

Turning around just in time to catch you, Jungkook picks you up and stands you back up. “Jesus, YN,” he grumbles, “how fucking clumsy can you be?”

“W-what?” you ask, clutching your still bleeding finger to your chest.

“You’re like a child, you can’t do anything on your own. You’d probably end up burning the house down if I wasn’t here.”

You were shocked. Jungkook has never spoken to you like that before. Never in the three years you’ve been together has he been this cold. Never has he made fun of your clumsiness before, always claiming he thought it was a cute quirk of yours. 

Huffing a sigh, Jungkook turns back around and heads down the hall to his office. Still shell shocked, you sink to the floor, mind reeling from his words. A child? Did he really think that of you? In a daze, you don’t realize the blood dripping onto the floor, mixing with salty tears. 

Once Jungkook closes the door to his office, he pushes his forehead against the frame, realizing what he’s just said. He was mad at Namjoon, not you, and he was finding reasons to take it out on you. He’s never been so cruel to you, and he instantly regrets it, wanting to find you and make it right.

Speed-walking towards the kitchen, he notices the stove top still on, vegetables boiling, but you’re nowhere to be found. He quickly shuts off the burner. Maybe there was some truth to his words. No, he shakes the thought off, now is not the time. Stepping around the kitchen counter, he steps into a small puddle of blood and water… or were those tears? Shit.

He hurries into the living room, calling your name, but you aren’t there either. Heading back down the hall to check the bedroom, he sees the front door is open and your bag is missing. Eyes screwed shut, Jungkook lets out a long sigh. He really fucked up. 

#bts angst #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook angst #taehyung smut #yoongi x reader #bts reaction

[dancingazaleas]

Can you write a modern au Historia Reiss x fem!reader imagine where the reader is in a band and has a very punk rock style, and Historias the popular cheerleader everybody drools over, and they hate each other but at a party some girl is flirting with the reader so historia takes her and fucks the reader silly in a bathroom and after confesses her feelings to r?

historia reiss | promise

ofc!!! pls i literally love cheerleader!historia. i hope this is good enough <33 !!

18+ pls ! [unedited]

warnings/notes: cursing, use of alcohol and drugs, eventual smut, jealous dom!historia, modern au!, college au!, cheerleader!historia, bathroom sex, degradation, slight praise, enemies to lovers supremacy, fem reader!, finger fucking, hints at pegging, and aftercare

you’re pissed, so pissed that you’re seeing white. you only know that you’re sitting under the bleachers of your college campus and that your best friend, annie, is sitting beside you.

historia reiss, the popular cheerleader adored by everyone, decided it would funny if she pulled a prank on you. the prank being drenched in ice water and then pouring pink glitter on your body from the second floor of campus.

the glitter stuck everywhere, even in your mouth. before you scrubbed some of it off, you looked like a bath bomb. the water made it stickier and made you cold.

you don’t know what kind of vendetta historia has against you, you’ve only just met her two years ago! you hadn’t even really talked her up until your freshman year of college. even then, you don’t think you had said anything rude or wrong.

you just assume she gets pleasure out of your suffering.

you’re ranting about historia to annie, who witnessed the whole incident, still covered head-to-toe in glitter. she’s smoking a cigarette and listening to you absentmindedly, a sign that she’s getting slightly annoyed. she grabs your jaw with her hand and turns your face towards her. she’s taking in a breath and you know exactly what she’s about to do.

when she pulls the cigarette away, she blows the smoke into your face and let’s go of your jaw.

“thanks for that,” you grunt, the smell always seems to calm you down for some odd reason.

“y’know, instead of ranting, you could go home and take a shower,” she looks sleepy as she holds onto her cigarette.

“i know. but she’s just so frustrating! wanna know what makes her even more frustrating?!”

annie decides to play along, she thinks you ranting is funny, “what?”

“she’s hot. scratch that, she’s literally gorgeous. she looks like a fucking goddess and has the personality of a witch,” you shout angrily, following annie’s movements of getting up and walking towards your dorm.

“i dunno,” she snickers, “she’s pretty nice to me.”

“yeah, cause she’s got some sort of vendetta against me. i swear—i have never done a single thing to her!! do you remember when she bashed our band?! does she even listen to punk?!”

annie’s made a mistake in encouraging you, “anyways. speaking of our band, don’t forget we’re playing tonight at eren’s house.”

“you mean at his frat house,” you snort, bumping your shoulder into her’s. you immediately regret it when you pull away and see pink glitter stick to her shirt and a shiver going down her spine.

“yeah, whatever. thank god he’s loaded enough to pay for a band. i can’t believe his dad just gives him and zeke cash,” annie coughs while she chuckles, smoke puffing out of her nose.

you’re laughing at her coughing, slapping her firmly on the back as you walk.

you don’t notice large blue eyes staring at you from far away.

————

you’re trying to ignore the idiotic comments annie’s making while mikasa does your eyeliner.

you, mikasa, annie, and—surprisngly—jean are getting ready for your show tonight.

originally, it had just been you, annie, and mikasa until mikasa and jean had started dating. she vouched that he could play the drums—and he definelty could. he also gets along surprisingly well with you and annie.

mikasa usually sings back-up for you—despite your begging for her to be the lead—and plays the electric keyboard.

annie’s on bass guitar. she gets stupidly smug everytime she’s done playing and the praise she gets from her girlfriend doesn’t help. annie also writes most of your songs.

“guys, we should make a bet,” annie’s twirling some of her hair, eyeing you and mikasa.

“what’s the bet,” jean smirks and raises a bushy brow. mikasa and you give a hum of approval.

“i bet that one girl is gonna be all over (name) tonight,” you snort sarcastically.

“elizabeth? i think she’s trying to seduce me so i’ll partner up with her for this project we have coming up in our music history class,” mikasa’s pullled away, screwing the cap of the eyeliner back onto the bottle. she hands you coal black lipstick.

“you know what i bet,” jean starts, you know it isn’t gonna be good, “historia’s gonna be eyefucking (name) all night.”

you’re in the middle of applying lipstick but you stop at his statement.

“no, before you say something, jean’s gotta point,” mikasa muses, fanning her hand.

“yeah. dunno how you didn’t noticed,” annie shrugs, hopping out of her chair and stretching her arms upwards.

you’re irritated and finished with your lipstick, eyebrows furrowed bitterly.

“anyways,” you grit your teeth, “it’s showtime.”

————

it’s been five minutes since you and the band performed, and after all that belting you just want a drink. you’re walking through the messy and huge kitchen, trying to avoid stepping on spilled shots and egg yolk—who knows—because these boots were expensive.

luckily, most people are partying like a mob in the main room of the smelly frat house. it smells like weed, everywhere. and when you open the fridge you see a long platter of chocolate brownies, is eren alright? you shrug internally, snatching a water bottle that’s sitting on the top shelf.

after you’ve closed the fridge door and opened it, you’re chugging the water bottle like your life depends on it. when you pull away, you try to not notice the lipstick stain and that you’ve drank the bottle more than halfway. you’re leaning on the island in the middle of the kitchen, you don’t plan on partying too much since you’re supposed to be the designated driver for annie, mikasa, and jean.

you’re about to take another swig of your water, eyes staring down at your phone and continuing to read a article. before you can bring the bottle to your lips, teasing laughter from your front is distracting you.

it’s historia, wearing a baby blue v-neck tank top that ends at her ribs. she has a white skirt on, pulled up to the middle of her bellybutton and stopping at her upper thighs. her shoes are white and chunky with sparkly blue butterflies on the sides of them. her makeup’s cute, a light blue sprinkling on the outside corners of her eyes that tickled her cheekbones, a light and natural (for her at least) pink lipstick on her lips coated with shiny gloss. she’s pretty.

“fuck do you want,” you frown with narrowed eyes, you’re praying there aren’t anymore tricks.

“nothing, nothing!,” she’s got a cheery smile on her face, “just wanted to see how you were doing! i cant even do that?”

rolling your eyes, you scoff, “not after you drenched me in ice cold water and then poured glitter on me. it took me two hours to get rid of the glitter in the shower.”

she’s opening her mouth, but you’re already done with her shit, “fuck off, dude.”

you’re stomping out of the kitchen, huffing with frustration. what the fuck was historia trying to play at? she’s such a cunt, pulling these mean pranks on you with no provocation and then coming up to you after and asking how you are?

you’re seething. you’re so angry you’re not even paying attention to where you’re going.

but it’s interrupted when you bump into someone’s back. lower... back.

said person, turns around and looks down at you. she’s tall, and you’ve seen her around campus with eren and zeke. she’s quiet and cunning, you’ve heard rumors that she gets paid to beat people up sometimes. you can’t really judge her, money’s money.

but she’s also gorgeous. glowing gold eyes and choppy blonde hair. she’s wearing a loose black blazer that closes at her sternum and down, with nothing underneath. she’s got some kind of necklace—you think it says ‘p’ or ‘z’—and pretty silver rings on her fingers. her heels make her tower over you more than she probably would without them on.

“shit, my bad,” you sigh and look away.

she shakes her head, the tiniest smile painting her face and her cheeks turn a little red.

“you’re alright,” she hums, “i don’t think i’ve met you. i’ve definitely seen you around, but no one’s ever given me a name.”

“oh, i’m (name),” you smile shyly, “i don’t know your name either.”

she chuckles a bit, somehow wrapping her hand in your’s and leading you to a nice loveseat. her nails are painted black and you feel inclined to put your legs over her lap.

“i’m surprised,” and that’s when you notice zeke and pieck on the couch next to you, “there are a lot of rumors about me. however, i guess whoever told you—or didn’t—left me anonymous. i’m yelena.”

you give a laugh, watching her throw her arm up onto the top of the couch. you’re cuddling her side within seconds, drawing a deep chuckle from her. her other hand reaches to your cheek, making you look up at her. she’s holding your chin with her thumb and staring at you with her hypnotizing eyes.

“you’re just the cutest,” she mumbles, letting go of your face and tapping your nose.

you’re getting embarrassed at the attention, and you don’t know what to say other than ‘thank you’. you’ve never been pussy whipped a day in your entire life, but you think you might change that.

she’s leaning in closer, ignoring the couple, who was staring at you two with amusement, that sat on the couch cuddling. you feel like you recognize them for a moment, but the thought it forgotten whenever yelena kisses you fervently.

she’s running her tongue across your lip and the shiver that goes down your spine makes you realize she has a tongue piercing. she’s pushing you down to lay on the couch, to which you happily oblige, her hand crawling up to your neck.

before you can even let her shove her tongue in your mouth and choke you, your hand is being tugged and all of a sudden your upper torso and body is on the floor and your head is aching. you’re dazedly looking at yelena, who’s just as surprised as you are, then turning to the couple on the couch.

holy fucking hell, how did you not realize that the couple was pieck and zeke. that isn’t even your main focus when another tug to your wrist pulls your lower half off the couch.

“what the fuck?!” you’re suddenly not dazed anymore, “let go of me!”

you’re snatching your arm away and scrambling to your feet, tugging down your short dress that rode up. you turn around to face the assaulter, only to look down and see historia.

historia grabbed you?!

before you can even scream or slap her, she’s, once again, pulling you away by your wrist. for such a small girl, she’s got a tight grip.

you’re stumbling as you follow her, not like you couldn’t, yelling profanities. you pass by annie, who spits out her drink at the sight of you, it startles her girlfriend, hitch. you mouth a ‘help!’ towards her just as you’re swung forward.

it takes you a second to balance yourself out, and before you can turn yourself around, you’re being shoved forward.

what the fuck is her deal?!

you’re pushed into a bathroom, finally turning around to see historia as you fall on your ass. she’s slammed the door closed and locked it, staring at you on the ground.

“the fuck is your damage,” you scream, leaning against the bathroom counter.

“you’re a fucking slut, that’s what!” she’s yelling back, now standing in front of you. her hands are trapping you against the counter, and you’re looking down at her.

“you’re a dirty little slut. you can’t help but get down with a woman when i’m not with you for five fucking minutes,” you can’t even open your mouth and opted to push yourself towards the counter more as you squeeze your thighs together.

“look at you,” she’s laughing mockingly, “you look like a dog in heat. are you enjoying this, you fucking whore?”

you whimper, shaking your head side-to-side.

“you’re a liar,” she’s laughing again, standing on her tip toes to brush her lips against your’s.

“i’m not.”

“if you’re not, go ahead and push me away then,” she smirks, leaning closer.

you look away, listening to the mocking giggle that she was releasing right in your face. her left hand is grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you to look at her.

“can i kiss you,” her look softens and you nod at her.

“yes,” and within a second, her lips are on your’s. the kiss is surprisingly gentle and sweet.

with a bit on your lip, her tongue is rubbing against your’s and her hands sliding under the thin straps of your dress. you’re whining when she pulls away and laughs. your dress is halfway down your body, chest jumping up and down as you pant from the lack of breath.

“look at you, baby,” she turns your head to the side, which gives you a profile view of yourself in the mirror. your lipstick’s smudged in the corner of your mouth, eyeliner’s smuged as well as your eyeshadow.

weak product.

“you need better makeup,” she’s giggling as she leans her head towards your neck.

she’s kissing and sucking almost everywhere on your neck and chest, as if she were marking her property. moans are bouncing off the walls as her hands release your boobs from the strapless bra you’re wearing and sucking on your nipples. honestly, you’re glad it’s off. it’s been tiring having to pull it up everytime it slipped even just a bit.

you tug at her blonde hair when her small hand gropes one tit and her mouth bites at the other. she’s tugging the rest of your dress down with her free hand, and it pools around your boots. she goes back up to kiss your lips, laughing in your mouth as you struggle to kick off your boots. she’s kissing at your cheek and ear, tugging at the waistline of your fishnet tights.

“might wanna take these off too if you don’t want them ripped,” yelping when she bites at your earlobe.

“i...,” you’re catching your breath, “need help.”

she giggles while nodding, helping you shimmying the tights down to your knees.

“jump up on the counter, babe. it’ll make it easier for me,” you’re obident and jumping on the cool bathroom counter, it makes you shiver.

historia’s on her knees, shoes kicked off, and her fingers tickle your legs when she’s sliding the tights off your legs. she’s got a sultry look on her face when she throws said tights over her shoulder, palming your kneecaps. she bites back her smirk when she pulls your knees apart, showing off your black panties. you fall back against the mirror and you lean mostly on your elbows, ignoring the loud bang that came from it.

her mouth’s leaving open mouthed kisses against your inner thighs, pants leaving your mouth. her fingers hook around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down quickly whenever you lift your hips.

your going to close your legs, but her hands prevent you from doing so. her eyes are glued to your pussy, lips spread open and your wetness shining in the light. you’ve got a little hair on your pubis, but that isn’t going to stop historia reiss from changing her name to sasha braus.

she’s sucking at your clit and spreading your legs apart as far as she can. she pulls away from your pussy just for a second.

“keep your legs open,” she says, a thumb rubbing circles into your clit.

it’s lazy and it’s satisfying, but it’s not enough to make you cum. she knows that.

you’re letting out high pitched moans and fingers tangled in her golden locks as she eats you out like a man starved.

‘i wish i had realized that i’m gay sooner,’ you think as historia slowly slides her middle finger inside of you.

you’re throwing your head back against the mirror when she suddenly adds a second finger, claiming that you could take it since you’re a slut.

considering your wetness is dripping down your ass and onto the counter, you can’t really object the statement.

she’s curling her fingers inside you, mouth closed around your clit. your moans go up an octave when she finds the spongy part inside of you, thrusting her fingers in and out of you after she angles her digits.

“fuck!” you moan and start clawing at historia’s free arm, which is holding down your hips.

“h-historia...,” you pant, “gonna cum... pl..please let me cum.”

her laughter sends vibrations across your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge. you’re crying out as historia helps you ride out your orgasm by slowing her fingers down and pulling away from your clit. historia’s admiring you while she wipes off your juices from her chin, a small smile adorning her lips.

your head is thrown back against the mirror—once again. eyes rolled back and mouth opened in a silent moan. the hand that was gripping at her arm is clenched in a fist that has your knuckles painted white. your toes are curled and your back is arching in the air.

she doesn’t pull her fingers out of you until your calm, letting you catch your breath before she does it all over again.

———

your legs are trembling as she helps you sit down on the toilet.

you know you look like a mess—historia’s been forcing you to watch yourself. the eyeliner and mascara you have on is now smeared and ran down your face since you cried. your lipstick is smeared up and down, worse than last time, and your hair is messed up and tangled from historia pulling on it.

historia’s squatting before you, looking for a rag to wet down and clean you up with.

“next cabinet over,” you breath, throwing your head back.

“you know who’s bathroom this is?”

“yeah, jean’s in this frat too. him and marco share it. this place is pretty nice when there isn’t a party going on,” you giggle, somehow this whole situation seems funny to you.

she’s running hot water over the rag she now has, staring at herself in the mirror. historia’s got hickeys on her neck too and teeth marks on shoulders. she’s got glittery blue on her cheek, must be her mascara.

she turns off the water and wrings it out. she walks over to you, nudging your legs open with her knee. you comply and absentmindedly reach for one of her hands to hold. she takes the offer, squatting in front of you and cleaning up the slightly dried cum and juices on your thighs and vagina.

you shiver and let out little whines and whimpers, still sensitive from the previous orgasms. historia was also still wearing something. something that you didn’t even know she had.

a fucking 6 inch strap on.

“by the way,” you start, “how’d you get your strap-on here?”

“i came to the house before eren started throwing the party. i brought a bag with me and just hid it in the empty cabinet. i think eren wanted to hook up with me and mentioned something about pegging. brought it in case,” she explains, small smile spreading across her face as she starts cleaning your face.

you start giggling again, the hand that wasn’t holding her hand weakly grabbing at her wrist.

“hisu... can i get a kiss,” you pucker your lips when she pulls away the rag from you. she flips the rag to a clean slide, rubbing herself in the same areas as she did for you.

historia holds your cheek and gives you the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had.

“i’m gonna take you back to mine and ymir’s place. you’re still in sub-space and you wobble instead of walk,” she says, squatting down again to help you get your panties on.

she’s able to get your dress on the lower half of your body, but you both realize there’s a fucking cum stain on the chest. historia gives you a jacket that was in her bag, zipping it halfway. the dress stayed sitting at your waist, you’re to tired to get it open even if you have a cover up.

she’s done cleaning everything up within ten minutes, including herself. she throws the rag in a hamper in the bathroom closet that had jean’s name written on it in sharpie.

she’s slipping the bag on her shoulder and helping you walk with the other one. when you walk out, ymir is leaning on the wall by the door with a smirk.

ymir squats down a bit, laughing at your shaky legs every time you took a step. historia and her manage to get you on ymir’s back. you fall asleep before you three can get to the car.

———

when you wake up, your whole lower body is sore. your eyelids feel heavy as you open them, coming to your senses. you recognize ‘dance moms’ playing in the background and historia eating cereal as she watches.

you groan lowly, and historia finally notices your consciousness.

“so...,” you yawn while you stretch your arms up into the air, “talk about last night?”

historia nods while she chews, “so basically, i was jealous that you were hooking up with another girl that wasn’t me.”

“but why would you be jealous...? i thought you hated me,” you rub your cheek against the pillow you’re laying your head on.

historia blushes as she looks away with a pout, “i never hated you... i just... i didn’t like the feelings i have for you.”

“oh,” you lay on your back and ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks, “what are.... the feelings..?”

“i may or may not love you,” she hides her face by holding her bowl full of cereal to her chin.

you don’t say anything for a few moments, trying to think of what you wanted to say.

“i... i love you too. but, that doesn’t just mean i forgive and forget all the horrible shit you’ve done to me. i’ll start dating you when i feel that you’ve... ‘atoned’ for your sins,” you sigh, “it’s gonna take some time but if you want this to work or even start, you’ve gotta make it up to me and understand where i’m coming from.”

she looks at you with slight excitement, “i... of course! i was really mean to you and you didn’t deserve that, no matter how much i disliked you. i promise to make it up to you.”

she’s holding her pinky finger up to you.

you smile and link your pinkies with her’s, “promise.”

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #historia reiss #historia x reader #anime

[goldnratio]

Bad Days and Back Rubs (MGG x reader)

Warnings: uhhhh none unless you count periods and the products needed to handle it, unedited writing

Word Count: 1,576

A/N: lots of italics and idk why. sorry this took longer than expected oops! also I hope u don’t mind I switched up the request a bit :) and reader has a uterus and I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible. pls enjoy!!

—

When you woke up in the morning, you were almost surprised to have started your period. Granted, you kept a somewhat accurate track of your cycle with an app, but this time around, you had little to no PMS symptoms. Thinking your first day wouldn’t be so bad, you decide not to call in sick to work.

“Baby, why don’t you just stay home?” Matthew asked, wrapping his arms around your torso as you were getting ready in your shared bathroom.

“Because, Matthew, I have work to finish, and if I don’t get it done soon you know my manager will be the first to complain.”

Matthew spun you around to face him and gave you a sympathetic look. “C’mon, (Y/N), we both know your first day is always the worst—“ he brushed a piece of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear— “we can just stay home and watch whatever you want.”

You really wanted to give in to his offer, considering Matthew hardly got enough time at home in between all of his filming. But you knew you had to go to work.

“As tempting as that sounds, my love, the answer is still no. Besides, the cramps aren’t so bad right now,” you said.

Matthew sighed. “Alright, but if you don’t feel good, then just come home okay?”

“I know, I’ll let you know. But I swear, I feel fine for it being my first day on my period!”

—

When you got to work, you started to feel slight back pain and cramps, but they weren’t so bad and you quickly brushed the discomfort off. You spent a while like that, with some odd cramps here and there. Nothing a couple ibuprofen pills couldn’t handle.

During your break when your pain began to increase. While you waited for your tea to heat up in the break room, you figure you should tell Matthew you’ll possibly leave work early.

To Gube💍🧸💖

10:15am

hey baby, might go home early. my cramps are getting a little worse :(

You were starting to wish you’d just stayed home with your boyfriend. Cuddling on the warm couch, watching romantic comedies that would probably make you cry, eating anything that satisfies your cravings.

The sound of your phone’s text tone pulled you out of your thoughts.

From Gube💍🧸💖

10:16am

oh I’m sorry love :( I’m out running errands but I should be home in a few hours, just call me if you want to go home. Love you❤️

To Gube💍🧸💖

10:16am

I think I can handle it for a couple more hours but ok, love u too💞💞

Luckily the ibuprofen kicked in fast, so your pain was dealt with. However, your manager was really starting to get on your nerves, she just kept micromanaging you. Needless to say, it was irritating.

Lunch time came around and the painkillers began to wear off. Not wanting to deal with the period pains and being hungry, you head out to your car and call Matthew.

“Hi, pumpkin, how are you feeling?”

You groan.

“I don’t know, my manager is annoying me and my cramps are coming back— hold on, let me put you on speaker because I’m about to go grab something to eat.”

“On your lunch break?”

“Yeah, I can’t tell if I’m in the mood for Chinese food or pizza.”

“How about you get Chinese for lunch, and we can get pizza for dinner,” Matthew suggested.

“Hmm, that sounds like a genius idea, baby. Let me call you back though, I’m pulling up to the restaurant.”

You’d considered yourself lucky to have a job so close to a shopping center with several food options. Sometimes you walked to get food with a coworker, but walking there and back to work wasn’t happening today, much less with someone else.

“Okay. I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Matthew. Byeeee.”

Once you have your food and you’ve arrived back to work, you spend the rest of your lunch on the phone with Matthew as you peacefully eat your lunch in the car.

About an hour after your lunch break, you felt your cramps coming back. Only now they felt ten times worse than what you felt earlier, and your desk chair did nothing to help the sharp ache in your lower back. Instead of taking more pain medication, you take another bathroom break, and immediately wish you’d just stayed home.

You didn’t notice you used the last of your menstrual products earlier, and forgot to pack more. You check the dispensers in the bathroom, and thank the stars, the little meter still reads ‘full.’ Sighing in relief, you push the button for the feminine product.

Nothing falls.

You push the button again, still nothing.

Please don’t let it be jammed.

You tried jostling the dispenser, smacking the sides, pushing the different buttons. No luck.

“Great, this is just what I need right now,” you mumble to yourself.

With the cramps and back pain becoming borderline unbearable and your unsuccessful attempts with the product dispenser, you feel tears building up in your eyes. Rather than start bawling over not having your menstrual products, you quickly compose yourself and weigh your options.

I can either ask someone if I can have one of their stash or just go home…Home it is.

As you make your way to your manager’s office, you text Matthew letting him know you’re going home.

It took going back and forth with your manager for almost ten minutes, for her to finally agree to let you take the rest of the day off.

Once you’re out of the office, you notice Matthew hasn’t text you back, so you decide to call him. When he doesn’t pick up, your only choice is leaving a voicemail.

‘Hey, uh, it's me. Figured I’d call you since I’m leaving work early. Sooo yeah, I’ll see you in a bit. Love you, bye.’

It’s a quick drive home, mostly because by some miracle you’re only hitting green lights and there isn’t much traffic around two o’clock on a weekday.

Unlocking the front door, you take off your shoes and toss your bag and keys onto the coffee table.

“Hey, Gube! I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!”

He’s by the stove, about to take off his apron to greet you, but you just wrap your arms around his torso and nuzzle into his chest. “Smells good. Hi.” You look up at Matthew, and he tilts his head towards you to kiss you.

“Hi to you too, (Y/N). How you feelin’, pumpkin?”

“Mmm, tired and in pain.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He keeps you in his arms, swaying a bit, and presses his lips to your temple. “How was work?”

“Ugh, you were right. I should’ve just stayed home.”

Matthew chuckled, “that bad, huh?”

“I mean, actual work was okay, but my day could’ve been better,” you sigh, “it’s just that everything was hurting so much that I wanted to go home, and my manager was being difficult about letting me leave. How was your day?”

“Fine, most of it was spent at the store buying groceries,” Matthew says, “and things for you.” He ‘boops’ your nose, and you smile.

“Speaking of groceries, what’d you make?” you ask, suddenly curious as to what the delicious smells in the kitchen are.

“Well,” Matthew said, and spun you around to see, “I’m making you hot chocolate, some tea for later that should help with your cramps, and there’s a pizza in the oven for when you’re hungry. And I restocked on your favorite snacks.”

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” You playfully ask.

“Only about a thousand times.”

“Then let’s make it a thousand and one times, because I love you sooo much.”

You flash your boyfriend a smile before pulling him in for a kiss. A few moments later, a cramp hits you, and you groan into Matthew’s mouth. He pulls away, but just enough for your foreheads to still touch.

“More cramps?” He softly asks.

“Yeah, any chance that tea’s ready?”

“Of course, baby. Why don’t you go change into something comfortable, pick a movie, and I’ll bring over the tea and some snacks.”

You give Matthew a quick peck on his cheek before leaving the kitchen. “Sounds like a plan, you’re the best.”

After you’ve changed and used the bathroom, you spot Matthew holding a hot water bottle and the remote control. “You ready?”

Halfway through the movie, with your tea and most of the snacks finished, you’re hit with another wave of pain and tiredness. You sit up and climb into Matthew’s lap, peppering sleepy kisses on his neck.

“Gube, can you massage my back pleaseeee?”

Matthew shifts from under you to get more comfortable. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He placed the hot water bottle in between your stomachs and started working his large hands on your lower back, and it feels heavenly.

“Keep going like that, and I might fall asleep right here,” you mutter.

Matthew placed a kiss on top of your head, “Go ahead, baby.”

“Thank you, Matthew, really. For always taking care of me.” You tilt your head up to plant a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“Anytime, (Y/N).”

Within a few minutes, you’re falling asleep in your lover’s arms, and it feels so nice that you briefly forget about all the pain your period’s caused you.

#matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg oneshot #mgg imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds #gublernation #alexis writes #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader

[aliendes]

BTS reacts to saying something hurtful and then regretting it PT.2

Anon: Hi Angel🥺 i adore your writing and i was wondering if you were going to make a part 2 to the BTS reacts to saying something hurtful I looooove part 1🥺

Anon: Absolutely loved the most recent reaction !! DEFINITELY NEED A PART TWO

Anon: Could YOU PLEASEEEEE DO a part two for the bts reaction where they something hurtful😭😭😭 but fluffy ending if possible, I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR WRITING

Anon: Hi dude, I was wondering if you would do a pt.2 to BTS reacts to saying something hurtful and then regretting it, pls do it if you're still thinking bout it!

A/N: ok damn I didn't think you’d want a second part this badly lol but here it is! * I’m sorry this is so shit, this was supposed to be posted earlier today, but I worked from home today because someone at my work was diagnosed with COVID yesterday, which is scary. But then I’ve had a migraine all day, and fell asleep for SIX hours!? That never happens. So sorry it’s so late, not that you guys know that, but still and sorry it’s shit. 

Warnings: angsssssst, fluff, mentions of sex, but no sex, cursing, mentions of cheating in the past, mentions of blood and stiches, a lot of these deal with another member being YN’s best friend, sorry it made things easier D: *unedited as per usual

Word count: 6.7k ~

In your rush to leave the apartment, you hadn’t realized you left your phone plugged in on your nightstand. Now it’s been over an hour you’ve been walking around the streets of Seoul, no way to call your sister, who would likely come pick you up. It’s not like it mattered, you didn’t really want to talk to anyone anyways. You just wanted to walk. It was your coping mechanism for a lot of things; anger, fear, sadness, anxiety. You were feeling a mixture of all of those things, and walking was a relief to you right now.

You continued walking for a little while longer, not realizing that your feet had taken you to your best friend’s apartment building. Letting out a heavy sigh, you figure you might as well crash here, you know Yoongi won't mind. 

Entering the fancy looking building, you pass the guard sitting near the front entrance, showing him your ID, which you thankfully had with you. You knew you were always on the list of approved visitors, and he was shortly letting you up the elevator. 

When you reached your best friend’s door, you held your hand up to knock, but before your fist could make contact with the wood, it was being swung open.

“YN! Oh my God!” 

Your eyes widened in shock as you took a step backwards, not expecting to see him here. “Jin?”

Your tall boyfriend steps over the threshold of Yoongi’s apartment, lifting his arms to hug you, but thinks better of it and drops them to his side. You can see dried tear tracks on his face, red rimmed eyes, and a purple bitten lower lip, all signs that he’s been crying, hard. 

“YN, I’m so sorry,” he sobs, letting fresh tears roll down his cheeks, “I-I was so worried, y-you-”

His mumbling is cut off by a firm hand on his shoulder, making his eyes fall shut as he lets the sobs rack his chest. “Come on, man,” Yoongi says stiffly behind him, “go wash yourself up.” Nodding his head, Jin turns around with one last sad glance in your direction, and disappears down the dimly lit hallway.

Yoongi watches him for a moment before turning to you, gesturing into his apartment with a nod of his head. You hesitate for a moment, briefly wondering if you should just leave, but decide your feet hurt and it’s too chilly to start walking again. Reluctantly, you follow your best friend into his living room and plop down on the couch. Following you shortly after, Yoongi falls next to you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders. 

“He told me what happened,” he says flatly, looking at you in the eyes, “he feels like shit.”

“Good,” was all you could say in response, crossing your arms over your chest. You were done being sad, now you were angry. 

Yoongi sighs next to you, “YN, I know you’re upset. You have every right to be, trust me. But you love him, and he loves you. Right?”

You want to refute him, but he’s right. You both love each other more than anything, you know that. Nodding your head, your bottom lip juts out slightly and starts to wobble. Yoongi squeezes your shoulders at the sight, “I think the two of you should talk it out, hmm?” You nod again, not trusting your voice. “You guys can crash in the spare room, I’ll head out to the studio.”

“You don’t-”

“YN, it wasn’t an offer, it was a statement.”

Knowing how stubborn your best friend was, you shut up and nodded your head again, letting him stand up and grab his jacket. 

“You know I love you both,” Yoongi said, hand on the doorknob, “but I will be upset if you fuck on my furniture.”

You scoff, head twisting back to glare at him, but he was already gone. Shaking your head, you let it fall back onto the plush sofa as you wait for your boyfriend to emerge from wherever he was. 

It felt like hours later when you opened your sleepy eyes, realizing you’d fallen asleep on Yoongi’s living room couch. Blinking a few times, you turn, only to realize you’re laying sideways, and you’re in a warm embrace. 

“Jin?” you mumble, sleepily, as you look behind you at your boyfriend’s sullen expression. 

Closing his eyes and sighing through his nose, he lays his forehead against your shoulder. “I’m sorry, YN,” he whispers, voice cracking slightly, “I’m so sorry. You know I love you, right?”

Turning around in his loose grasp, you hear the squeak of the couch underneath you. Pressing one hand against Jin’s firm chest, you bring the other up to cup his wet cheek. 

“Yes, Jin,” you mumble, making him open his eyes to stare into your own, “I do.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he cries softly, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you mumble, leaning forward to press a kiss on his nose, “I know you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for running away.”

He shakes his head, pressing his plush lips to your forehead, “No, don’t apologize. I was just so fucking worried when I got to Yoongi’s and you weren’t here. I thought - I thought something happened to you, you always come here when you’re upset.”

You bit at the inside of your cheek, contemplating his words for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I just got lost in my thoughts,” you chuckle darkly, “but I’m okay, and I love you.”

Another tear rolls down Seokjin’s nose, “I’m so glad I have you in my life, YN. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I lost you.” He sniffles, making you reach up and wipe at his tears. 

“Then we’re lucky you’ll never have to find out.”

Jungkook and Yoongi are both jogging down the streets near the company building, trying to find where you went. Yoongi was about to have a full blown panic attack when he realized you had completely fled the building with no phone or bag. He was beside himself with grief, his mind turning to the worst case scenarios immediately. 

After not finding you in the immediate vicinity of the building, he and Jungkook split up, Jungkook going to look at your best friend’s house, and Yoongi going to check your apartment. He brought your bag with him, which included your keys. He knew you wouldn’t be able to get into your home without them, and felt terrible that you might be wandering around the city, alone with no way to contact anyone. 

Your bag and jacket in hand, Yoongi took the elevator up to your floor, hoping beyond all hope that he would find you somewhere around here. As he stepped off the elevator, his ears immediately perked up at the sound of light sniffles. Rushing out of the elevator doors, Yoongi stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you, sitting on the floor, back leaned against your apartment door, hugging your knees to your chest. Your forehead is resting on the tops of your bent knees, so you haven’t noticed him yet. He can tell you’re crying by the uneven breaths you take. His heart breaks, completely crumbles in his chest at the site of you attempting to curl in on yourself. 

He instantly rushed forward, dropping your bag and jacket onto the ground next to you, and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands reach out and as he places both of his hands on your shoulders, your head jerks up, startling at the sight of your crying boyfriend.

“Y-Yoongi?” your eyes are so swollen and your vision is so blurry, you think for a moment you might be seeing things.

“Yes, baby,” he whispers, “I’m here, I’m right here.” He watches as realization slowly takes hold of you, your face falling and twisting into a pained expression, almost like you’re disgusted he’s in front of you. 

You sniffle loudly, turning your head away from him, not wanting him to see what a mess he’s made of you. “Please go away,” you murmur into the empty hallway. You don’t see it, but Yoongi’s face falls even more as he realizes you really don’t want him near you. You never shy away from his physical affection, even when you’re upset with him. 

“YN, please,” he begs, hands sliding down your shoulders and your arms, eventually reaching your hands as he gently takes them in his, “let me take you inside, at least.”

Without looking at him, you nod, letting him help you stand with the grip he has on your hands. He lets go of one of your hands and bends over to grab your bag and jacket before getting your keys out and opening your door. You let him lead you inside and into your kitchen, you let him sit you down at your kitchen table, and you let him make you a cup of tea. You don’t take your eyes off a water ring stained to your wooden dining table the entire time, and it isn’t missed by Yoongi. 

“I didn’t mean it,” Yoongi whispers as he sits down across from you, setting your favorite RJ mug on the table, “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean what I said.” You slowly looked up at him, eyes still devoid of emotion. He winced at the fact that he did this to you. “YN, you have every right to hate me, to kick me out, to slap me if you want,” he takes a deep breath, “but you are not crazy. You are not like your mother. You are beautiful, funny, smart, and the most caring woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Being with you has made me a better person, and there is no one in the entire world more deserving than you of love. I’m an asshole, and I used your insecurities against you for a stupid fucking reason. I regret it more than anything, YN.” He was crying by the end of his speech, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. The left side of his lips were doing that twitchy thing they did when he was upset, and you instantly felt the need to embrace him.

Standing up slowly, you move towards your sulking boyfriend, and put your hand on his shoulder. He looks up at you, bewildered that you are even touching him. “I don’t forgive you,” you start, making Yoongi’s hope dissipate, “yet. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. What you did was fucked up, Yoongs.” You whisper the last part, eyes starting to well up again.

Yoongi pulls you down onto his lap, swinging your legs over his lap and hugging onto your middle tightly. “I know. Trust me, I know. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I promise you I will work every day to gain your trust back.” You lean your head on his shoulder, nodding your head. You weren’t about to forgive him after what he did, but you weren’t about to lose what the two of you had either.

“I love you,” he sniffles, kissing your forehead, “and I’m sorry.”

You didn’t get far before your feet started killing you in your work heels. You made it a couple blocks away before you couldn’t walk any further, and sat down on a park bench. To make matters worse, it had started sprinkling as you sat there. You didn’t have your phone, or a will to get up, so you sat there and sulked in the rain. You figured you would eventually get up and head back to your apartment and fall asleep, but for now you just needed to think. 

Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you contemplated your relationship with Hoseok. He is usually so bright and bubbly, seeing him so angry scares you. On top of that, he called you dumb. You knew he would never harm you physically, but then again, you thought you knew he would never harm you emotionally either, yet he did exactly that today.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the light footsteps nearing your bench over the light drizzle of rain. Nor did you feel the presence of someone sitting next to you, just as drenched as you were. 

Suddenly, you feel a warmth on your knee, making you startle violently, wiping at your face with your already wet long sleeve. It was no use, you were just making yourself more wet. You jumped so hard you caused the owner of the hand to pull away instantly.

“Hoseok?” you ask, blinking through tears, lips trembling due to the cold and your emotions. Looking up at him, you see he’s in no better condition. Eyes swollen and leaking, lip red and bitten, a habit of his when he’s anxious. He has the hand suspended in midair that was previously on your knee, and he looked almost like he was afraid to touch you.

“Baby,” he mutters, though you can barely hear him as the rain starts to pick up, “please come home, you’re going to get sick. I can stay at Jin’s place tonight if that makes you more comfortable.” He sounded completely broken to say those words, like if he spoke them it made it true that he made you uncomfortable. 

At the thought, you furrow your brows. Did you feel uncomfortable with Hoseok? You didn’t think so. Disappointed? Sure. But not uncomfortable.

You shake your head lightly, reaching out to grab his hand in yours. He almost flinches away from your touch, so startled that you would initiate contact right now, but he composes himself and allows you to rest your hands in your lap.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you mutter, gnawing on your bottom lip, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me like that.”

Hoseok looks even more distraught at your words. “But that’s the thing, I’m a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have hurt you in any way, not just physically. It’s clear that I hurt you with my words, and I’m such a dipshit for doing so. I made a promise never to hurt you, and I broke that promise.”

He was right, he had promised that. Years ago when you first started dating, you had major trust issues because of your cheating ex. Hoseok had taken things slow with you and made sure that you trusted him fully before taking your relationship any further. You were thankful for him, thankful for how caring he was. 

Tears were leaking from your eyes again, mixing with the rain water falling onto your face. “Let me take you home, please, YN?” He sounded so desperate, so small, like if you told him no it would break him.

Staring him in the eye, you nod your head. He lets out a relieved sigh as he stand ups, pulling you with him. 

Once the two of you make it home, Hoseok leads you into the bathroom, both of you cold and shivering. Sitting you down on the side of the tub, he reaches over and turns the knob to turn on the hot water and then pours your honey bubble bath into the stream of water. The smell instantly relaxes you and you let your eyes slip closed as you sigh lightly. Before you could open your eyes, you hear the door to the bathroom opening again.

“Wait,” you rush out, snapping your eyes to Hoseok’s retreating frame. He stops, turning around to face you, lips blue from the cold. “Please,” you beg quietly, “stay.”

Hoseok looks conflicted. He looks like he wants to stay, so badly, but he also looks like he might make a run for it at any moment. “A-are you sure, YN? I can go to Jin’s for tonight, give you some space.”

“Do you love me?” The question surprises you as much as it surprises Hoseok. It slipped from your lips without your permission, giving away how you truly felt because of his words earlier. 

“More than anything,” he answers instantly, dropping his hold on the door knob, “do you think I don’t?”

Hoseok takes a few steps towards your still shivering frame and reaches out to wipe tears from your cheekbones that you hadn’t even noticed were falling. “YN, I am so sorry if I ever made you feel like I don’t love you. I was angry earlier. I had a shit day and that is no excuse for the things I said to you, okay? Don’t let me make excuses for myself. But do not ever think that I don’t love you because of what I said.” His words were soft, yet firm. You could tell he meant everything he said. Sniffling, you nod your head in affirmation. When he stands straight again and goes to walk away, you grab his wrist quickly.

“P-please Hobi,” you whimper, “don’t leave me.”

“Oh Angel,” he says, sitting on the bathroom floor in front of you, “I would never leave you. I just thought you’d want some time to think.” He spoke so softly you could barely hear him over the running of the bathtub behind you.

You shake your head quickly, “I don’t want time to think. I want to talk about it, work it out. Together.”

He smiles sadly down at you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “I don’t deserve you, you know?”

You return the gesture, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist. “I know,” you whisper into his chest, “take a bath with me?”

“Of course, love.”

It’s been two weeks since you’ve been back to your apartment. Since the incident at work, you’ve been consistently working from home, so you’ve been staying with your sister since you and Namjoon got into the fight.

He’s tried to contact you multiple times, sent you countless texts, and even tried to show up to your sister’s apartment about a week ago. You’ve completely ignored him, other than the one text you sent telling him you were safe and not to worry. You had packed all your essentials so you haven’t needed to go home yet, though you figure you will soon.

You were working on your laptop when you heard your phone buzz on the table next to you.

From: Jimin [2:37 pm]: hey YN

From: Jimin [2:37 pm]: can you come over?

You [2:39 pm]: to the dorms?

From: Jimin [2:41 pm]: yeah, we need to talk to you

You set your phone face down on the table. You felt like they were tricking you into seeing Namjoon. You just weren’t ready to face him yet. You knew you would eventually, you still love him with all your heart, but you really just needed time.

*Bzz*

From: Jimin [2:48 pm]: he won’t be here, I promise

From: Jimin [2:49 pm]: please

You sigh after reading his last message. You loved the boys, you truly did. You knew that they wanted to talk about Joon, but still, it was hard for you to say no to them. Especially Jimin, which is probably why they had him text you. 

You [2:55 pm]: ok I’ll be there at 5

From: Jimin [2:56 pm]: thank you!!

When you arrived at the dorms, the door was unlocked. Knowing they were expecting you, you let yourself in, slipping your sneakers off at the door and making your way towards the sound of voices in the kitchen.

When you walked into the dining area, the three men sitting at the table all turned to look at you. You were met with Jin, Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jimin.

“Uh,” you started dumbly, “what’s up guys?” You held onto the strap of your bag a little tighter, unsure of what was to come.

“Hey YN,” Jin said, getting up and walking towards you, pulling you into a tight hug, “we’ve missed you.”

You had to bite your lip to start tears from springing to your eyes. Jin was the most sincere person you’ve ever met, and you knew he meant it when he said it. It hurt you worse than you thought it would, seeing them. You missed them, too. Though you missed Joon more.

“Come sit down,” Jimin said softly from the table, “we’ll be quick. Promise.”

“Is Joon here?” Your voice cracked slightly, making Yoongi raise an eyebrow as you sat down across from him.

“He’s with Hobi-hyung and Tae-hyung in the studio,” Jungkook says from next to Yoongi. 

You nod your head and set your back at your feet, folding your hands in your lap. Jin takes a seat next to you, with Jimin at the head of the table. “What did you want to talk about?” 

All four men shared a look before Yoongi spoke up, “Namjoon isn’t doing okay, YN.”

Your head snapped up at this, worry filling your eyes. Jungkook was quick to speak up, “He’s not hurt, YN. Don’t worry. We’re just really worried about him.” He was gnawing on his lip and it made you nervous.

“He hasn’t been eating properly,” Jin whispers from next to you, “or sleeping.”

“He’s been staying at the studio sometimes all night,” Jimin says, “and he’s been staying here.”

This shocked you more than anything else they’ve told you. The reason you and Joon got an apartment is because he wanted his own space. He loved his members, but he liked time to be alone. He hasn’t lived with them in years. 

“He says the apartment smells like you,” Yoongi says, dark eyes staring into yours, “YN, he’s hurting. Bad. What he did was fucked up, but don’t you think he deserves a chance to make it right?”

“Yoongi,” Jin cautions from next to you.

“No, Jin-hyung,” Yoongi cuts in, “I know he hurt you, YN, but he regrets it so much. I’ve never, in all my years knowing him, seen him this affected by something. I’m begging you, please talk to him.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, tears threatening to fall. Jimin gets up and walks around the table to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders as you look at the other three men in front of you. Nodding, you let a single tear fall into your lap. “Okay.”

You decided to wait in Namjoon’s dorm room for him to get home, while Yoongi made up an excuse for why they needed them. When you heard the front door open and the baritone of Taehyung’s voice carry throughout the house, you braced yourself to see Namjoon for the first time in weeks. 

The minute he walked through the door and saw you, tears were rolling down your face. Neither of you said a word as you ran to each other and crashed into the other’s arms. You didn’t realize how much you missed the sobbing man in your arms until you were both on the floor in a heap of bodies, crying into the other’s shoulder. 

“YN,” he sobbed, “ar-are you actually here?” The sound of disbelief in his voice broke your heart. You could feel he’s lost a bit of weight, and he looked absolutely exhausted when he walked through the door, but the brokenness in his voice is what hurt the most. 

“Oh Joon,” you pulled back from him to look into his tired eyes, “of course I’m here. I never left, not like that.”

He was biting at his lips, tears falling down his face and onto your laps as he nodded. “YN, I’m so sorry,” he says, bringing his hands from around your back and holding both of yours in his own, “I can’t believe I said such mean things to you, and over something so stupid.”

You gently shush him as you rub your thumb against the top of his hand. “It’s okay Joon,” you soothe, “we were both being stupid. You were right, I shouldn’t nag you just because I’m home more often now.”

“Please don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers, “I promise to do better and to make you happy.”

“Me too, Joon, me too.” You stare into each other’s eyes, a silent promise, before your lips are crashing onto his in a passionate kiss. 

It didn’t take long for Hoseok to find you sitting in your car in the parking lot. You locked yourself in there when you decided you were in no shape to drive, crying into your steering wheel at the events that just took place.

Hoseok had coaxed you out of the car after a few minutes and now the two of you were sitting in his recording studio, while he told you about how Jimin had been lectured by their dance teacher, one of the things that gets his self esteem at its lowest points. After the lecture, the members were practicing one of their old choreos that they would be performing at an awards show, only to have Jimin fall multiple times while doing some of the more difficult moves. He was feeling like he wasn’t as good as he used to be, and it had him feeling insecure. Right before you walked into the practice room, him and Hoseok were trying to smooth some kinks out in the routine and he was too frustrated to get them right.

You knew Jimin well, and you knew he was probably feeling terrible about himself, and now probably even worse because of what just happened with you. 

“I’m sorry Hobi,” you said, sniffling softly, “I should have listened to you.”

“No, bub,” he says reaching over and grabbing your hands, “you just wanted to make sure he was okay. None of this is your fault, okay?” You nod your head and let Hoseok’s words sooth you. You’ve been best friends since high school, he always knew how to calm you down. “I’ll go make sure Jimin is calm and I’ll have him come in here. You can have some privacy. You’re both pretty sensitive right now.”

You nod again, not trusting yourself to not cry if you spoke. Hoseok takes one last look at you before standing up and going to find Jimin.

You sit on the comfortable leather couch, collecting your thoughts, for what feels like forever, until you hear the code being input on Hoseok’s door. A moment later, you see the soft pink hair of your boyfriend poke around the corner. When he turns to look at you, he’s wearing an almost unreadable expression. You can tell he’s been crying, his eyes are a little red and his cheeks are a bit puffy, but otherwise he looks calm.

“Can I sit with you?” he asks in a small voice.

You nod your head, mirroring his unsure expression. “Of course, Jimin,” you whisper, scooting over slightly to make more room on the couch.

You both sit there staring at the other for a moment, before Jimin speaks, “Can I -”, he starts, before cutting himself off, snapping his lips shut as you raise your eyebrows. He takes a moment to configure his thoughts before he tries again. “I’m sorry, YN,” he mutters, hurt clear in his voice, “can I please touch you?”

Your heart broke at the fact that he felt the need to ask you. His hands were folded politely in his lap, making no effort to reach for you, like you didn’t want him close. Without saying anything, you stand up from your spot on the couch, and plop back down on his lap, shocking him, his hands flying to grasp your waist to steady you. You wrap your arms around his neck in response, placing a soft kiss on his head. He instantly relaxes into you, his hands kneading your sides, head resting on your shoulder as he lets out a deep sigh. You stay like that for a moment until you hear light sniffles and you realize your boyfriend is crying.

Scooting down a bit, you bring your hand around and cup his cheek, “Jimin-ie,” you whisper. 

When he looks up at you he looks so defeated and you decide then and there that you hate that look. If it were up to you, he’d never feel this way ever again. “You’re perfect to me, Jimin,” you whisper, making him scoff, trying to turn his head away from you. You don’t let him, though. “I’m serious. You may not think so, but you are so talented, sweet, and funny. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever known and I’m so lucky that you love me.”

He scoffs again, “How can you say that after what I just said to you?”

“Because I love you,” you say simply without hesitation. “I know that you were feeling insecure and anxious. I understand that you need love and acceptance when you feel like that.”

Jimin’s eyes soften at your words, another tear rolling down his cheek. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You chuckle lightly, rubbing your thumb against his cheek, “You were so perfectly you, I couldn’t help but fall in love.”

“I love you, YN,” he sobs into your shoulder, “and I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Jimin-ie,” you stroke his hair, “let’s go home, yeah?” He nods into your shoulder as you place a kiss to his forehead. 

Taehyung has posted himself up outside the bathroom door, waiting for you to come out. He wasn’t going to let this fight last. He wasn’t going to let you think he thought you were anything less than perfect. He couldn’t lose you because of his stupid and reckless mouth.

It’s been an hour since you locked yourself in there. He could hear you run yourself a bath, sit in there for a while, and then heard the tub draining. He hoped you’d be coming out soon, so he leaned his back against the door, resigning himself to sitting there all night if he had to. 

Another 10 minutes go by before you slowly open the door, making Taehyung fall backwards as he reaches out to right himself. You gasp in shock, not realizing he was right there. When he falls through the doorway, you get down on your knees, towel wrapped tightly around your body as you make sure he’s okay. “Tae! Are you okay?” 

Taehyung sighs as he lays flat on his back in the doorway of the bathroom. “Why are you asking me that? I should be the one asking you.” 

Your face falls again at the reminder that he thought you were too caring, too happy, too positive. You spent the entirety of your bath talking yourself into not being so upbeat and chipper around him. To not be so caring and to back off him a little bit. That’s what he wanted, right? He could see the gears turning in your head, so he sits up, leaning back on the palms of his hands. 

“YN, I love you,” he says softly, making you look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“I know, Tae,” you say flatly. You didn’t think just because of a silly argument that he didn’t love you. You weren’t that insecure. You just truly didn’t want him to feel suffocated, and obviously that’s how he’s been feeling if he felt the need to blow up like that.

“No, YN. You’re too understanding,” he mentally slaps himself, “no, no. That’s not what I meant. Fuck.”

“I get it Tae, I’m suffocating you. I’m sorry, I will try to back off a little bit. I can do better.” You sit back on the heels of your feet and lean against the door frame, staring into his dark orbs. 

“Oh, princess,” he whispers, sitting up straighter and reaching a hand out to rest on your thigh, “no you aren’t suffocating me. Not at all. I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way.” The look on his face is so sullen, so remorseful that you can feel just how sorry he is from looking into his eyes. “You are the sunshine that lights up my day, the only person who really gets me. You are the sweetest, kindest, most caring human being on the face of this planet, and I’ve never met someone as empathetic as you are. You are literally perfect, and I am so fucking sorry,” his voice cracks a bit as a tear rolls down your cheek at his words, “that I made you think you weren’t. I’m the shittiest partner ever for doing so, and I will spend the rest of my life making you feel wanted and as special as you deserve to feel.”

You’re full blown crying now when you lunge yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck. Sobbing into his shoulder, you nod your head against him. “I love you Tae,” you whimper, “it’s just a silly fight, right?”

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around you bare back, still slightly sticky from your bath, “No it’s more than that.” He feels you stiffen in his hold, so he starts to soothingly rub his large hand up and down your spine, “This is me realizing how fucking perfect I have it and making sure I never do anything to fuck this up. Never do anything to dim your light, because you are the brightest star in my eyes.”

You pull back to slap a hand lightly against his chest, smiling down at him still sitting on the floor. “Stop being so cheesy,” you mumble. He smiles at you before abruptly standing and picking you up bridal style, making you squeal. “Tae!”

“Mmm,” he moans into your ear as he tosses you on the bed and climbs on top of you, “let me show you what I mean, hmm?”

Jungkook didn’t waste any time running out your apartment door and chasing after you. He had only been gone for a minute or two, there’s no way you could have gotten far. As he walks down the street near your apartment, he calls your phone at least a dozen times, all of them going straight to voicemail. Your phone must be dead.

“Fuck,” shoving his phone back in his pocket. When he looks back up at the sidewalk ahead of him, he realizes he’s near your favorite cafe, the one with the cute Japanese trinkets for decor. Deciding to check to see if you’re there, he makes his way down the street. When he arrives at the cafe, he looks in the large glass window at the customers sitting around the restaurant, but doesn’t see you anywhere. Heaving a sigh, he turns around trying to rack his brain for other places you might’ve gone, when he sees a familiar figure sitting across the street at a bus stop. Squinting his eyes, he sees your sulking form, curled in on yourself.

Without thinking, he rushes to cross the street, only remembering at the last second to look both ways and halting his movements when he hears a car horn honking at him. Clutching at his chest, he backs up and allows the cars to pass before he’s running across the street towards you. 

When he looks back to you, you’re already standing, a bewildered look on your face. 

“Jungkook, are you crazy!?” you yell as he steps up on the curb in front of you. 

“YN-” he pants, trying to catch his breath. His adrenaline was pumping now, but he was also relieved to find you okay. “YN, I -”

“Jungkook!” you cut him off, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

It takes him a moment to realize what you’re talking about, but once he catches on a blush overtakes his face and he has the decency to look sheepish. You were actually a little angry at him for being so careless, but then you think back to the argument the two of you just had, and your anger dissipates into sadness again. Jungkook sees the moment your face falls and reaches out to take your hand in his. When you wince and jerk your hand back, he feels another pang of regret in his chest, realizing you actually were hurt and he let you run out of the apartment without helping you at all. He was such a shit boyfriend. 

Jungkook huffs a breath through his nose as he reaches out carefully, palm up, silently asking for your hand. You oblige reluctantly, knowing he’s trying to help, and place your hand, palm up in his hand. 

“YN, I am so sorry,” he starts, moving closer to you to get a better look at your still bleeding finger,”I’m mad at something Namjoon-hyung and I fought about earlier, and my dumbass took it all out on you. I’m a fucking asshole.” He pulls your hand closer to his face as he talks, inspecting the cut. He saw it earlier, but it only looked like a papercut then. Now that it had bled a little more, he could see it was fairly deep, maybe even deep enough to need a stitch or two. Sighing, he closes his eyes to collect himself before he speaks his next words. “Why are you at the bus stop?” He knows the answer, and braces himself for the impact.

“I- I figured I should probably go to the hospital,” you nibble on your bottom lip, unsure why you felt bad for saying what you had to say, “I didn’t think you’d want to drive me.”

His heart breaks. He moves closer to you, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head. “Oh, YN,” he whispers, remorse dripping in his tone, “I can’t believe I did that. I will always, always be here to help you. I don’t want you to ever feel like I wouldn’t.” He can feel tears stinging the backs of his eyes as he runs a soothing hand up and down your back. 

“I just thought since, you know…” you trail off, letting more tears fall down your face.

“I know, I was an asshole,” he starts, pulling away to look down at you, “let me take you to get that looked at, and we can talk about it on the way, okay? I’m so sorry, YN. I don’t want you to forgive me yet, I don’t deserve it. Just let me make sure you’re okay, first.”

You look up at him, unshed tears welling in his eyes when you nod your head. “Okay,” you whisper, letting him take your uninjured hand in his and walk the couple blocks back towards your apartment. You knew what he did was wrong, but you also knew that he loved you. You loved him, too. Regardless of the fights you may have, and the tough times you experience, you know you will always fight for one another. You look up at him through misty eyes while you walk, he looks back at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A silent exchange letting each other know it would be okay.

#bts angst #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook angst #taehyung smut #yoongi x reader #cypherwritersnet