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gojorgeous · 3 months

Note

how do the jjk men treat you when ur on ur period? suguru specifically hehe <3

✰ JJK MEN: WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIOD ✰

pairing(s): gojo, geto, nanami, choso x afab!reader content: (MDNI 18+ only), nsfw-ish/suggestive, periods, period blood, period products, pet names, lots of fluff! a/n: i hope you like anon!! you have great timing cause i’m getting my period and i also have a uti pray for me besties i need help and antibiotics. left out toji and sukuna cause…. nah LMAO. enjoy, and remember ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

✰ GOJO:

Lowkey loves when you’re on your period, but is just barely smart enough to never tell you that.

His favorite part is that you always want more cuddles, which means more cuddles for him.

Thinks period products are really amusing– loves playing with your hot water bottle cause it’s squishy. Finds those ones that look like stuffed animals at the store and brings home like five of them for you.

Will definitely buy you pads/tampons but not without the obligatory “what size is your pussy” text. Won’t buy them until you respond with “extra super pretty” and then sends back this emoji -> 😋.

Highkey likes period sex. Knows it can relieve your cramps and will use that as an excuse at every opportunity if you’ll let him.

Is always on some cheesy ass shit murmuring in your ear about how doing it on your period “bonds your souls”, too.

Constantly offers to get you pregnant so you can avoid your period for the next nine months… he’s only half joking.

Will actually skip work to stay home and cuddle with you if you give him even the slightest inclination that you don’t want him to go.

Watches movies with you and has gotten surprisingly good at rubbing little circles on your tummy that help with cramps.

Keeps the house stocked with candy, but, then again… it’s always stocked with candy.

“Babe. Look what I just found at the store.” You watch with furrowed brows as he sets the bags on your floor. You’re curled on the couch, a blanket tucked up around your neck. He’d made sure to roll you like a burrito before he’d left. He pulls out… a cow? It looks like a stuffed animal, but when he shakes it you hear something sloshing around inside. You raise a brow. “Ummmm–” “It’s one of those hot water bottle thingies! For your cramps!” He tosses the poor cow on the floor and digs around in the bag again. “Oh my god, they had so many. I got the cow, the dolphin–” He tosses a dolphin out of the bag, followed by a puppy, a raccoon, and a cat. “Do you want me to put one in the microwave for you?” He looks far too excited to turn down, even though you just heated up your old hot water bottle minutes ago. You smile and nod. “Yeah, baby. Thanks.”

✰ GETO:

Mans TAKES CARE of you. Like… fully.

Is really sympathetic and gentle when your cramps are killing you– brushing your hair back, rubbing circles on your tummy, letting you put his warm hands wherever it hurts.

Runs you a warm bath and climbs right in with you. Makes you lean back against him while he gives you a massage and works out all the knots in your neck and shoulders.

Buys you period products before your period starts if he remembers. If he doesn’t he’s happy to run down to the store. Doesn’t need to ask which ones you like– he already knows.

Wraps you up in the comfiest blankets and cuddles with you wherever you ask. Gives the best cuddles, too. Rubs your back in a way that has you falling asleep in seconds.

Makes sure you take your meds on time and brings you a glass of water.

Secretly loves period sex. Will never push you for it, but gets super horny at just the thought. Loves the sight of your blood on his dick. Makes him feel possessive of you in a way that’s kind of scary.

“Sugu…” you whine. Your cramps are bad. You’ve been curled in a ball all morning, even with all the meds Suguru has been giving you. “It hurts so bad.” You feel him shifting behind you and then his hands gently prying you to lie on your back. You whimper, the pain spiking again as soon you roll out of the fetal position. His face appears above you, a couple stray strands of black hair tickling your cheeks. His smile is soft, but full of sympathy as he settles over you. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could make it go away…” He moves down your body, settling between your thighs and resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. You sigh when you feel his fingers skate over your tummy, rubbing little circles into the skin that somehow work wonders for the pain. You sigh with relief, a bit of the tension ebbing away. “That feels nice…” Your body relaxes a bit, finally getting a break from the incessant pain. Suguru only smiles, looking up at you through hooded eyes when he presses a kiss just below your belly button. You don’t fail to notice the way his thumb is sliding under the fabric of your panties. “I can think of something that would feel even nicer…”

✰ NANAMI:

Prepares for your period.

Has your cycle marked down on his calendar so he always knows when you’re starting.

Stops by the store a couple of days ahead of time to buy pads/tampons/meds and your favorite snacks.

Runs a bath for you every night and fills it with all of your favorite soaps and scents.

Cooks. Mans knows how to cook and does extra of it when you’re on your period. Will make you nutritious meals and urge you to drink water, but always brings you something sweet if you’re craving it.

Heats up your hot water bottle every thirty minutes without you ever having to ask.

Lays out a fresh change of clothes for you whenever you’re in the shower.

Cuddles you whenever you want, but only after he’s tended to all of your other needs (meds, food, water, etc.).

Will have sex if you want, but will never push you for it. If you just want the relief from your cramps, he’ll just use his fingers to get you off and then pull you back into his arms.

“Time for your bath, sweetheart.” You nearly grumble in protest, but how can you do such a thing when he takes such good care of you? Still, you don’t want to move. Just existing hurts, much less walking to the bathroom. Despite your resistance to saying it aloud, Nanami still seems to understand what you’re thinking. No more than a second later he’s scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. “You know you’ll feel better after, love.” You nod weakly against his chest. “Will you get in with me?” He pauses. He’s got dinner to make and he wanted to change the sheets for you… One nuzzle of your face into his neck has him throwing all those plans out the window. “Of course, princess. I’ll get in with you.”

✰ CHOSO:

Is new to this stuff so he lowkey freaks out.

Worries that you’re actually in danger cause… there’s blood???

Chills out eventually, but is still irrationally convinced that you’re injured.

When i tell you this man is at your BECK AND CALL, I mean it. He will do every little thing you ask. Fetches water, food, snacks– whatever you need.

Mans is panicked when he can’t find the candy bar you want at the grocery store.

Happily buys period products for you but has to facetime you cause the poor baby is overwhelmed and confused by all the options.

Is kind of attached to you like glue. Thinks you’re somehow more breakable in this state will hold you in his arms permanently apart from when you need to bathe, eat, or use the bathroom.

Actually freaks when you have a bout of cramps that makes you hiss in pain. Cannot believe you have to do this every month and hates feeling so useless in taking the pain away. Eagerly learns that he can put his warm hands on your tummy and it helps.

Is actually amazed when you tell him that sex helps with the cramps. Worries about hurting you, but is completely down. Mans is definitely not afraid of a little blood lmao.

“Baby… there are so many…” You can’t help but stifle a laugh looking at your boyfriend’s stressed expression through your phone screen. He’d run down to the store to get you some more pads– you just hadn’t anticipated how overwhelming the experience would be for him. “I know, Cho. I’m sorry. Here– back up so I can see the whole aisle.” He does as you ask, flipping the camera around so you can see what he’s looking at. You have to bite your lip this time to keep the laugh in. You’ve never realized just how many options there really are. “The ones toward the bottom right, baby. With the pink box.” The camera shakes a little as he follows your directions, arm sticking out like he’s playing pin the tail on the donkey. “These?” His hand hovers over a box that is pink but not the pink you need. “Down a couple racks.” Finally, his hands close around the right box. “Thank you, baby. I didn’t think about how confusing this would be for you…” The camera flips again and you grin at the soft soft smile on his lips. “Don’t apologize. Want me to grab some candy, too?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @enchantedsylveon, @httpstoyosi, @bbyxxm, @6kabuki, @myriliy, @complexivelovely

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tzuberry · 9 months

Text

(cute) things zerobaseone maknae line do as your boyfriend ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

pairing shen quanrui (ricky), kim gyuvin, park gunwook, han yujin + gn reader⠀⠀⠀details fluff, established relationship, bulletpoint

cw none ⠀⠀⠀wc 410, 418, 505, 462 (1,795 overall)⠀⠀⠀reading time 12 minutes

note HELLOOOO i havent posted a fic since july 15th and that was my first fic ever on this account omg... thank u for all the notes on my other post LIKE i didnt expect so much + thank you for 90 followers!! also i might start writing for tiot and evnne if i have time 🫡 likes are reblogs are appreciated if u can 💟

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ricky 리키

lets you play with his hair

i think ricky is honestly extremely particular with his hair, and especially who gets to touch it

his hair isn’t very visibly damaged despite getting it dyed frequently / basically not having black hair since he was probably fifteen years old (and he’s nineteen now, so that says something) so he has to take good care of it not to have it fried off

there were stories about him during bopeul where they said they always saw him fully ready with perfectly styled hair whenever he left his room, too

like i’m not even kidding he has to care for his hair a whole lot or by now he could’ve been bald i’m sorry

when his friends—mainly gyuvin—try to play with his hair or comb their fingers through it, ricky allows it but is not that pleased because he put effort into styling his hair and doesn’t want it to get messed up

gyuvin jokingly whines a little, but is over it after a few seconds

when ricky started dating you, although he thoroughly knew you and almost all of your habits and mannerisms, he didn’t think you would be into playing with his hair

you’re hanging out, watching a movie at your apartment while your head is rested on his shoulder when he feels your fingers suddenly brush through the strands of his hair

he turns to look at you, partly shocked but also just wondering what you’re planning on doing to his hair

you shrug your shoulders, keeping your eyes on the tv and not minding him one bit

“what are you doing?” he asks, a little amused

he expects you to reply playfully, to exchange banter or something like that

but instead, you say, “your hair is really soft, you know,” as you proceed to curl a portion with your finger acting as the curling iron

ricky quite literally folded that day... now he lets you do whatever you want with his hair

you can braid it, curl it, whatever

he doesn’t mind as long as it’s you, even if he spent nearly an hour fixing it this morning

you’re in a cafe talking to gyuvin and gunwook, sitting at the other side of the table when you lift your arm to twirl ricky’s hair, him not remotely flinching at the contact

gyuvin is pleasantly surprised to witness this sight

“you don’t let me do that,” he sulks, aimed at ricky

your boyfriend scoffs. “you’re not [name].”

gyuvin 규빈

always texts you + makes sure you’ve eaten

okay i think i’ve seen a lot of people say this already idk but i think it’s soooo true

gyuvin texts you excessively

like. about anything

there was one instance when his little brother had a crush on a girl, and gyuvin literally went to you for help and his brother didn’t even have an inkling of what was happening

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): [NAME] MY LITTLE BROTHER... is... growing up :(

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): he used to be so small i could put him in my pocket and now

yn: what happened???

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): he LIKES A GIRL. who told him it was okay to get a girlfriend? at his toddler age??

yn: gyuvin i love you but we started dating when We were his age

and then he continued to ask you for advice on how to help his brother get the girl he liked

there’s more instances of him oversharing his brother’s life with you, but that ends there

he also buys you snacks all the time

even if you don’t want it. even if you verbally, very clearly, straightforwardly tell him you’re not the tiniest bit hungry

he’s basically your mother oml

he makes those little snack baggies for you to take

before you both graduated, gyuvin would bring you lunch. it didn’t just stop at snacks

he would ask his mom to help him cook for you

and he’d make it all cute and stuff like shaping the rice to be your favorite character

he’d pack it to school and give it to you in the morning. omg

mixing those two things together, you get “have you eaten yet” texts all the time

it’s two pm, and you were so stuck while helping a friend that you regrettably forgot to eat lunch. ‘it’s okay,’ you assure yourself, ‘i had a late breakfast’

gyuvin texts you, asking the usual “have you eaten lunch????” and you lie and say yes

and then your phone rings and you know you can’t avoid it anymore because he can see through your voice when you lie

from the speaker of your phone, gyuvin’s voice is unbelievably attractive—but you choose to ignore that fact for now

“[name],” he deadpans. “be honest. have you eaten?”

choosing to accept defeat, you exhale deeply. “no.”

gyuvin suddenly hangs up and only a text is left on your screen

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): i’m coming over in. like 30 minutes i have to ask my mom to help me cook

gunwook 건욱

teaches you how to dance

gunwook is SO good at dancing it’s so crazy

i love watching him on stage because he’s the best performer ever. like he seems to genuinely enjoy it and i hope he never loses that love for dancing / singing / rapping

you on the other hand..... you could be good at dancing too, just definitely not as good as gunwook

so whenever your scheduled dates are interrupted by his extracurriculars at school, you decide to tag along with him, if the members of his clubs don’t mind (which they usually don’t)

one of his extracurriculars is the dance team

and most of the time, when your preplanned dates are cancelled because of an extracurricular he has lined up for him, it is almost always dance

so you end up following him to the practice room, silently watching him in the corner so as to not obstruct their view of the mirror by sitting directly in front of them

his eyes light up with the flame of passion you adore so much, and you’re so content that even if your date is cancelled because of this, you’re not annoyed and you still get to indirectly spend some time with him by spectating him as he does what he likes

in the short breaks that he gets, he takes the opportunity to sit beside you on the floor and ask about your day

when the practice session ends, he asks if it’s okay with you if he stays to polish up the routine, to which you say yes and offer to stay with him because everyone else has started to leave

after a while, he grows tired and plops down next to you

gunwook chuckles. “i’m sorry for cancelling our date and making you stay with me.”

“it’s alright, i like watching you dance.” you smile

he abruptly stiffens up, irises reflecting the light, making his eyes glow excitedly. “do i dance well? what do you think?”

you giggle. “you dance very well. a lot better than i can, for sure.”

“mhm, yeah?” he grins widely, and you know what he’s going to do

gunwook jumps up on his feet, extending his hand out to you to help you get up

“you just need a little help.” he nods proudly. “you’re lucky i’m your boyfriend.”

you take his hand, and he leads you to the center of the room and he starts to dance with you ballroom style (???) like the waltz and stuff

he guides your arms over his shoulder to circle his neck, and his hands rest on your waist and then he starts counting, “4... 3... 2... 1... like this,” as he takes a singular step in different directions, encouraging you to mirror his movements

you almost trip, but you tightly cling on to his shoulders before you can fall

gunwook laughs. “enough dancing for today?”

“yes, please,” you agree, letting your body fall forwards into a hug with him

“alright. if you’re not that tired, are you still up for that date?”

yujin 유진

(tries to) initiate / enjoys physical touch

yujin doesn’t seem like his love language is physical touch.... i know gyuvin does it a lot to him and he kinda pretends to not like it but it’s so endearing and i sooo believe he deep down loves it

it’s the same with you, but he’s the one intiating it

he never thought he liked skinship all that much, because he would even jokingly say it pestered him a little at times when gyuvin would dote on him

but when it came to you, and when you first started dating, he was itching to hold your hand

it was so new to him because he never craved for anyone’s physical affection before

all his older friends like gyuvin and gunwook would always just.... initiate skinship for him and he thought he didn’t like it but

suddenly you come along, and you don’t even try to hold his hand

he thought couples were supposed to hold hands?? and hug??

but you’re not budging and it’s so frustrating

while walking you home from school like usual, as you tell him about your day, he tries to gather the courage to intertwine your hands

it doesn’t work, and he’s left with cold hands as he stares at you enter your front door

“next time,” he whispers to no one but the wind

next time comes and still... he’s too nervous to hold your hand

the distance between your palms is less than four inches, and all he has to do is take the leap—besides, nothing could go that wrong. you like him and he likes you

he purposely bumps the back of his hand with yours, but doesn’t actually take your hand in his

he awkwardly rubs his nape, unsure of what to do now

your brows knit together, as you’re now aware of yujin’s weird behavior

“yujin?” you tug on his uniform sleeve. “is something wrong?”

“no! nothing’s wrong,” he quickly denies, “don’t worry about it.”

“okay... can i see your hand, though?” you request, and it successfully confuses him because why do you want to see his hand?

he obliges, giving it to you palm up when you lace your fingers with his

“i’ve noticed you trying to hold my hand since last week,” you say, giggling. “i was waiting for you to do it, but i guess you’re too shy.”

“i’m not that shy,” yujin defends, looking down at your interlocked hands... ‘this is a good feeling,’ he thinks

you nod passively. “it’s fine. it’s one of the reasons why i like you.” you swing both your hands back and forth in the space between you

yujin doesn’t try to retort, only relishing the feeling of your hand in his

skinship isn’t so bad... maybe he could get used to this.

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bonny-kookoo · 2 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | In Motion

Moving on is scary. Moving back won't bring you forwards. But moving with someone at your side can be exciting.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, MCs Ex, police, Jungkook being the victim of bullying (dw), fluff?, nsfw but it's very light (sorry)

Length: 6k words

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“Its funny how a woman can change a man.” Yoongi mentions, sitting at the big company dinner next to Jungkook, who's both visibly distracted and upset to be present, phone being checked every few minutes or so- and Yoongi knows who he might be texting with. “why didn’t you bring her along?” He wonders, while Jungkook sighs.

“I’m actually not sure.” He admits. “I’ve been given a plus-one like always, and I planned on inviting her- but then I.. chickened out.” He shakes his head. “these events are boring as hell.” He says, eating his food with not much interest.

“What is she doing at home instead?” Yoongi asks, setting his own cutlery aside as he’s finished his plate.

“Cooking. She sent me a picture of some.. macaroni and cheese she made from scratch.” Jungkook smiles to himself as he thinks to the image you’ve sent him with multiple excited emojis to convey your happiness over it- having tried to wing it for the first time. “now she’s most likely watching her favorite show since it’s Tuesday.” He shrugs.

“Wow.” Yoongi jokes. “That’s so much more exciting, damn.” He flatly tells his friend, who rolls his eyes. “Jungkook, have you actually asked her if she’d ever want to tag along?”

“…Yes.. and she said she wouldn’t mind..” He admits shamefully so.

“Then bring her next time. You act as if you and her are George and Maria over there. You’re not sixty for God’s sake, and she didn’t turn legal yesterday either.” Yoongi shakes his head with laughter, amused by his best friend. He’s noticed the change in him pretty much immediately after the younger guy had returned from his vacation and days taken off- looking almost ten years younger, happy and most of all carefree. There was no worry on his face, no thoughts wrinkling his brows, no annoyance and clear signs of boiling burnout left.

“I.. want to ask her to move in with me.” Jungkook admits suddenly, staring at his food. “I know it’s a bit fast but.. I feel like this time, she really is the one for me.” He tells his friend, who shrugs.

“Its your decision. I’m happy you found someone good.” He simply answers him, refusing to really help in that regard. Jungkook can make this decision all by himself, after all.

And he should.

Back at his place, where he puts the car keys on the kitchen counter before he unbuttons his shirt to get ready to shower, he takes a small look around. The cooking utensils he bought just for you are still here, and so is your favorite blanket. The pillows he got are littering the couch, and yet, only you are missing.

You’re missing.

Even though you’re technically not even meant to be here all the time yet.

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Jungkook has become.. suspicious, to say the least.

You’ve been together for a few months now after all, and ever single one of them, for the same week or so, you vanish out of sight. And he’s not stupid.

He knows you don’t have an affair with someone else, or your work simply always calls you in during that time, because he knows you escape his sight even when you have days off. No, he knows exactly what it is, and he honestly doesn’t really know why you do it.

Do you think it grosses him out? Or that he doesn’t know how to deal with it? Knowing you at this point, he might just be right.

But he also can’t force you to come out and be with him during that time of the month if you don’t want to. You have to want this all by yourself, because otherwise, how can you both build a relationship that’s not the same as your past? He’s not that much better from your past boyfriend if he was to just overstep a boundary you clearly still have.

Back at work in his private office, he contemplates on messaging you. That could help, right? He types out a simple message, letting you know that if it really is what he thinks happens every month, then you don’t have to be worried at all.

He doesn’t mind. At all.

So he just texts you- tells you that if you ‘need anything at all’, he’d just bring it over and leave you be if that’s what you’re most comfortable with. However, instead of just texting back, you call him- making him wave towards his secretary in a manner that shows her he is for now unavailable unless urgent. “Well hello, darling.” He chuckles when he picks up the call, unaware that on the other end, his words still make you horribly shy.

“Sorry for not.. Uhm.. You know, calling you or anything.” You say, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.

“It’s no bother. We’re both still getting used to things, after all.” He reminds you. “Though I’d love some sign of life every now and then in the future. Just a quick ‘hey, I’m doing ok’ is really enough for me.” He offers.

“Sorry. I’ll think about it from now on.” You say, though Jungkook is pleased to hear that you don’t just do it out of submission- but that it sounds a lot more like relief, almost. As if you’ve waited for him to say this. “But uhm.. What do you mean by, ‘if I need anything’?” You wonder.

“I’m assuming you avoid me every month due to your period.” He says, and you just meekly answer with a sigh, and a ‘yeah’. “It’s no bother to me, really. It’s not gross or whatever you might think.”

“I’m just.. Moody and stuff. I’m worried I might.. I don’t know, be mean to you on accident.” You warn him, and he just laughs it off.

“I’m not that fragile, love.” He jokes. “And I doubt that you’ll end up calling me an asshole every second of the day if we spend time together.”

“No, I’d never!” you defend yourself, making him chuckle. “I just get cranky, and I don’t know.. I might just get onto your nerves.” You warn him.

“You could turn full on toddler on me, and I’d still take care of you.” He jokes. “I really don’t mind. How about we meet up later, and I’ll cook us something at your place? I have the weekend off, we could spend it together.” He offers, clicking a little through the rest of the E-Mails he has for today. “Or you could always.. Stay over at my place as well. You know I love it when you’re there with me.” He says.

You really like his place. To the point, where you actually begin to miss being there, despite having loved your little apartment for so long until now. It’s odd how his house has become somewhat of a safe-space, even thinking about it makes you feel good. And hearing that he personally enjoys having you over as well offers you some sort of hope that maybe one day, he might even want you there permanently.

What could living with him look like?

How long until he gets annoyed with you?

“I really like your home.” You confess quietly, and he waves off his secretary that’s about to knock- because he can feel he’s potentially at the very cusp of something. “Do you.. I mean..” You mumble, before you sigh. “Yeah sure, let’s uhm.. Spend the weekend together.” You tell him, and he realizes quickly that your tone is not very confident at all, despite the fact that you’re trying to make it seem like it is.

“It could be your home too, you know?”

He waits for you to answer, and he knows this needs some time to be thought through, but he truly believes that you’re the one for him. It doesn’t have to happen right away either- but he wants you to know that the option is there, if you’d like to take it someday.

“I-“ you start, when he can hear your doorbell ring in the background. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You tell him, leaving the phone for a little bit, silence the only thing that Jungkook gets to hear. Your phone probably cancels out whatever quiet noise might be there, so he’s unsure what’s going on, until you return to the phone again. “Can I call you back later?” You say after a moment, voice almost whispering.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately alarmed by your behavior. He presses for an answer by saying your name- but still, you don’t answer. Until you finally do.

“He’s here.” You say,

And Jungkook immediately grabs the keys to his car, rushing out as fast as he can.

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Jungkook isn’t sure what he expected your ex to look like. But seeing him now, in front of your door as Jungkook walks closer, he feels his blood boil.

The man is not quite as tall as he is just like you mentioned a few months back, but he’s clearly training for muscle. A very intimidating body, and the second the man turns towards him, he spots the things you’ve told him before as well. His facial features are a lot sharper than Jungkook’s, eyes dark as they muster him up and down, frown on his face. “What do you want?” He asks, voice deep, raspy. Most likely from smoking- cigarette smell still clinging to the man in front of him.

“I’d like to visit my girlfriend, if you’d be so polite to make space for me to enter the door, please.” Jungkook speaks, tone held at a very specific tone as to not give away any emotions for his opponent to pick up on.

“Oh, so she got a rich guy now.” Your ex says, leaning back, arms crossed- most likely to present his muscles, something that Jungkook thinks looks simply childish. “Tell her she owes me money. I need it asap, and she keeps avoiding me.” He explains, and Jungkook nods.

“I’d love to tell her that.” He says. “But you’re still blocking the door.” he says, noticing both the very clear and sharp smell of alcohol, and the way he slightly sways a bit.

It’s quiet for a good moment, both men staring each other down, before your ex moves to the side, though it’s clear that he doesn’t do it as to admit defeat. Jungkook takes the chance and knocks at your door now, prepared that your ex might try and slip inside the second you open it. “Hey- it’s me.” Jungkook tells you through the door, and at that, you open it just a little bit, like you’re trying to check if he’s actually there or not.

Once you look at him, his entire face softens.

You look like a panicked animal that just escaped a shot to the head, eyes wide, staring up at him. At the sight of Jungkook you instantly open the door wider to welcome him inside, and he himself is quick to shut the door right behind him, a hand having tried to keep it open last second.

“I’m here now.” Jungkook reassures you while you cling to him, your ex having moved to knock and ring the doorbell constantly, angry about Jungkook’s antics. “Don’t worry. Let’s call someone to deal with him, and then we’ll go from there, alright?” He explains to you, as you detach yourself a bit, taking a few deep breaths at the instruction of Jungkook who’s still holding your arms as if to steady you. “Go sit down, I’ll make the call. Did he hurt you at all?” He worries, but you shake your head.

“I didn’t let him in.” You answer quietly, and Jungkook nods.

“Which is the best thing you could’ve done. Good job.” He praises, helping you sit down in your bedroom, as far away from the front door, which is still being tortured, as possible, before he walks back out into your kitchen, phone on his ear to call the police.

It all happens a lot quicker than he would’ve thought- your ex having apparently had gone against some very important guidelines he’s been given after a more recent violent crime he’s committed. “You can file in for a restraining order.” The officer tells Jungkook who nods. “Judging by the fact that he’s known already, that might be for the best. Those people are too unhinged to really be trusted.”

“Yeah, seeing him in person today has definitely made up my mind about some legal restrictions placed onto him.” Jungkook agrees. “Thank you for dealing with him so quickly.”

“No problem. You two have a calm rest of your day.” The officer says, before they drive off, your ex in the back of the police car.

The second he’s back in your home, having realized he actually knows the pin-code to your door, he carefully opens the bedroom door where you’re still hiding on your bed- and the second he nods, you get the message letting go of a deep breath, leaning against him the second he sits down on your bed. “The officer said we should probably file a restraining order towards him.” Jungkook tells you. “I think that’s a good idea as well. It would.. Definitely help me, knowing that he can’t get close to you.”

“...wait- it’s Tuesday, you were at work-!” You suddenly say, realizing that he probably left work early just to be here now. “You can go back now, I swear I’m fine-”

“The office won’t burn down just because I’m not there darling, relax.” He laughs, running a hand up and down your arm. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow anyways, and after that I’ll work from home for a while. So it’s not that bad, I promise.” He explains to you, who slowly nods. “And it was a family-emergency after all. They all surely understand that I suddenly ran off.” He jokes-

Though you feel oddly emotional at the mention of that phrase.

“Family emergency?” You ask quietly, and he nods, easily, as if it’s no big deal.

“My girlfriend was in trouble. I’d count that as a family emergency.” He shrugs, and you look at your knees, unsure about what to think. “Which, by the way.. And you can totally say no, it would be completely fine-” He starts, before he continues his sentence once you look at him. “-but.. My parents might want to meet you.” He reveals, strangely... shy almost.

“Might?” You wonder, and he nods, before sighing.

“I might’ve let it slip that we’re.. Well, a couple.” He admits. “And I can’t help it, really.”

“Can’t help what?” You wonder, making him play with the silver rings on his bottom lip.

“I tend to.. Ramble on and on when it comes to you. So when they asked about you, I just.. I couldn’t help it. And now my family is very much curious to meet you.” He explains, and you smile to yourself.

“Well.. I mean, I don’t mind?” You say. “What’s the worst that can happen, am I right?”

“Oh god you don’t know my family.” He dramatizes playfully. “My mother can be a handful, and my brother will most likely just go on and on about some embarrassing stuff that happened when we were kids.” he groans, and you can’t help but grin.

“Are you scared I might end up hearing something you’d otherwise keep from me?” You wonder, and he glares at you, before he suddenly smiles. “But really. I don’t mind meeting them, if you’re okay with that.” You say.

And Jungkook can’t help but lean over at that to kiss your lips, realizing just how serious you’re both getting.

“You’re the only one I’d ever want them to meet.”

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Jungkook’s parents have never liked his ex wife.

That’s information you’ve been told later that night before Jungkook had left to go home- and you’re unsure how to think about that. You feel like there’s now a standard you have to reach, and you’re not sure if you can. If you meet them, and it doesn’t work out, what will they think of you?

Your ex has never really let you meet his parents much- only fleetingly, when you met them by chance at the local grocery store or in similar situations. You know that Jungkook has a brother who’s been married for much longer than Jungkook has been- will he judge you for being so much younger than Jungkook himself?

Will his parents think you’re not a good fit for him because you’re too young? Or do they know already?

You’re currently washing dishes from the breakfast Jungkook and you had at his place today, when the doorbell rings. You’ve spent the night after admitting that you weren’t feeling good about sleeping at your own place after what happened, and he understood- happily telling you that you can always stay at his house for as long as you’d like. You wonder if he meant permanently.

He’s been hinting at it for quite a bit now.

A dog almost jumps up on you, another one following- two tiny whippets excitedly yapping at you, before a young man calls them towards him. Only now do you see three people entering the house through the front door- an older couple, and the young man who you assume owns the dogs, Jungkook standing on the sidelines, hiding his face in his hand.

“Oh, you must be her!” The woman says, and you instantly know that she must be his mother. He inherited quite a bit of her facial features, though you can also see his father in him as well, the man a lot quieter than her, simply hanging up her coat before greeting his son properly. “Oh you do look young! But very pretty.” She tells you, before she tells you her name. “When did you change the furniture? It looks so much brighter in here without that weird sofa in the living room.” His mother exclaims, as Jungkook enters the open kitchen.

“I- mom, when I said you could visit I didn’t mean today.!” Jungkook almost whines, before he throws you an apologetic look. “And also, what are you even doing here?” He asks the young man who very clearly has to be his brother from visual appearance alone.

“Hey, I gotta know who the pretty girl is who caught my baby brother’s attention!” He teases, smacking Jungkook’s back. “You’ve been going on and on about her, you can’t blame me for being curious.” He explains himself, before he reaches out to you. “Junghyun. Nice to meet you.” He greets you, before he boldly moves to take a look inside the fridge.

It's odd how you just instantly know the dynamic of his family from this small interaction alone.

Jungkook quickly somehow gets his family to sit in the living room while telling them that he’ll make them something to drink, before he joins you in the kitchen again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know when J talked to them yesterday that they would show up literally 24 hours later-“ he apologizes, but you wave him off.

“Its.. not that big of a deal. They seem nice- and it would’ve had to happen at some point, right?” You wonder, and he nods.

“Still, it must be at least somewhat uncomfortable. I know I’d like to be prepared to meet your parents.” He sighs, moving to make some coffee for his parents after pecking your lips once.

“…would you?” You ask, and he turns around after clicking the right buttons on the coffee machine in front of him. “meet my parents, I mean.” You ask, unsure.

“I.. yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck a little. “I’m.. I mean, I don’t know if they’re even aware that you’re seeing someone-“

“They are.” You admit. “they.. I told my mom. After we.. after Christmas.” You explain, and he listens with interest, letting you go at your own pace however. “She’s.. they both know you’re older, and my dad is not very happy about that. But my mom seemed welcoming of the idea.” You tell him honestly, and he nods. “they’re scared too, you know? After all that happened.”

Jungkook nods. “I completely understand. And even without that-“ he shrugs. “-I guess any parents would be suspicious of a relationship like ours.” Be admits and you nod as well, well aware that your parents might not be as easy going as his are. “but well make it work. Right?” be asks, and you know what he’s asking.

Not if you’re gonna make it work- but if your parent’s possibly being against your relationship could be a deal breaker for you.

“Yeah.” You say, because you’re not going to let this be taken away from you, by anyone. You’ve had a taste of what your life could be like if you were to just let it happen- and you don’t want to hide away and be trampled over anymore. You want him, you want this life and this future you might have together- no matter what.

And Jungkook can’t help but walk closer to you, kissing your lips while he tenderly holds your cheeks.

“Mom, Jungkook is making out with his girlfriend instead of making Coffee!” his brother yells, and Jungkook leans back at that, jaw clenched and tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek while he’s got his eyes closed, having to restrain himself you imagine. But you can’t help and giggle at the situation- visions of what those two brothers might’ve been like as children filling your mind, curiosity growing.

What was he like before Evelyn? Before he married? Before he met her?

“get out!” Jungkook barks, taking a towel from the sink to hit his brother with it, the laughing older male running off back into the living room, where you follow- carefully carrying the two cups of coffee Jungkook had forgotten in his playful rage against his sibling.

“Thank you.” His mother says, smiling warmly, while his father only nods, face however gentle, and friendly. You sit down after that, in the corner of the sofa, listening to the two brothers fighting in Jungkook’s office, before his father speaks up.

“My son mentioned that you two have.. Quite the age gap between you.” He says, and you nod. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“It.. Did. In the beginning.” You admit, his father now visibly interested in your answer as he didn’t expect you to admit something like that so outright. “I was worried that he might.. Think of me as childish. Or that our ambitions might differ too much, since we’re both at different points in our lives.” You explain, his mother now listening in as well. “I mean.. Let's just take family-planning for example. He’s a lot closer to settling down than I am, technically.” You explain, and his mother nods. “But I realized that, if we talk about these issues, we can solve them together. Make compromises, so we can meet in the middle, so to speak.”

“Has he spoken to you about his.. Past marriage?” His father asks, and you nod.

“I’ve met his former wife a few times. And I’m.. Somewhat aware of the things that happened in the past- though I’m sure he didn’t tell me everything yet.” You say. “And I respect that. We’re still.. At the very beginning of our relationship after all.” You chuckle a little, nervously, but suddenly, his father smiles.

“Stop interrogating my girlfriend just because I’m not here.” Jungkook interrupts the conversation, protectively sitting in between his father and you- though that wasn’t the smartest idea, since his father just quietly pats his back rather roughly, making Jungkook complain in embarrassment. “What the fuck dad?” He asks, but his father just laughs.

“Stop hitting him darling, you’re gonna break his back!” His mother complains, and you can’t help but smile at the mention of that petname- making it clear where Jungkook got the habit from, since he calls you the same most of the time. It’s cute.

You’re happy to see that he has such a nice family.

“So, when are you gonna bring a kid into this world, huh?” His brother asks shamelessly, making Jungkook choke on his water. “Hey, come on. I’ve got the second one on the way, you can’t make me do all the work here!” He teases, making Jungkook turn towards you.

“I’m so sorry- if you want them to leave, just tell me.” He says towards you, but much to his dismay, you shake your head.

“I don’t mind them.” You say, and his brother grins, before he leans forwards towards you.

“Did you know that Jungkook used to be scared of the microwave-” Jonghyun starts, and Jungkook throws his head back, groaning in agony.

All while you can’t help but be happy that his family seems to like you.

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Later on, once they all left again, he talks to you once more in the living room after the dishes had been washed, and you both had gotten ready to just laze around and go to bed later. “I’m really sorry they showed up unannounced. That was terrible of them-” He shakes his head still, holding you in his arms on the couch while a random TV series plays quietly in the background, commercial break ongoing. “-and I’m also sorry I left you alone with them. I hope they didn’t interrogate you too hard.”

“It was fine.” You brush off, telling the truth. “We just.. Spoke about the age gap.” You explain, and Jungkook sighs. “And I told them that, you know, yes, it did bother me at first. And I know that it bothered you too.” You admit, making him stare blankly, listening to your words. “But that we.. Work together. If problems occur, we find compromises. Put equal effort into it so we meet in the middle, you know what I mean?” You say, and he nods.

“Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. What did they answer to that?” He wonders, but you shrug.

“He just asked if I knew Evelyn, and I said that yes, I’ve met her a few times.” You remember. “And that I know you probably didn’t yet tell me everything, but that it’s fine because neither have I. Since we’re still.. Pretty new.” You offer. “And then you came back, so we didn’t talk further.”

“My brother can be so terrible, I swear.” He huffs. “Two years older and thinks he’s always got the upper hand in everything..” He mumbles.

“Well, from what I’ve been told, he is a bit quicker with things than you.” You giggle. “Second marriage, second child-”

“Second job after he kept slacking off at his first, second house because he got kicked out of the first, second dog because one wasn’t enough-” Jungkook goes on, and you can’t help but laugh out loud. “-Hey, stop laughing about that!” He complains, moving his hands to pinch your sides, only causing your laughter to intensify as you try and slip away from him. But you’re unsuccessful, rather ending up somewhat manhandled down into the couch, with him above you, your wrists pressed into the cushions below you.

It doesn’t take long for him to lean in and kiss you, the knowledge of everything that happened today settling in. You’ve been so understanding about everything, calm and collected even though he knew that you must’ve been at least somewhat intimidated by the whole situation. You still handled it perfectly in his opinion, facing it all head on.

He’s so in love with you.

His kisses slow down after a moment or two- and you know why they do. He’s not really a fan of getting heated on the couch of all places, preferring the bedroom or maybe the shower- and sure, you have indeed gotten rather scandalous in other places of his house before, but if he can control himself, he does.

Laying next to you, your head on his biceps, he just observes you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Move in with me.” He says, and you’re caught by surprise at the sudden proposal. “I’ve got.. Enough space. A room you can have just for yourself if you ever want some time to yourself. I can continue renting out your old place too if you’d like.” He tells you, hand resting on your waist. “Just.. I’d like to have you close. Every day.” He says. “And night of course.”

“I mean.. if you’re okay with that?” You say, unsure. “you don’t have to do it just because.. we’re a couple, you know? I can be.. a little chaotic, and loud, you might not-“

“I wouldn’t have proposed the idea if I didn’t want it, darling.” He chuckles, easing your mind quite a bit. “Think about it though, before you answer me now. I realize I might’ve come off a bit.. strong with how I phrased it.” He hums, slowly sitting up again with you next to him. “What I really want to say is.. If you wanted to move in with me, I’d welcome you with open arms so to say.” He offers, and you nod.

“I’ll think about it.”

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“Hm?” You wonder still half asleep, Jungkook right behind you with his hands running over your skin, legs entangled and lips kissing the back of your neck.

“You’ve been sleeping for ages.” He complains lightly, his own eyes barely open. “been waiting for you to wake up.”

“..whats.. why?” You ask, moving a little to stretch your legs out.

“hm, why..” he just repeats, hands traveling further and further until one of them finds its way beneath your light shirt you wear, bare chest warm beneath his palm. It’s clear to you now what exactly he’s been aiming for when waking you up- intentions obvious, especially with the way he presses himself into you from behind.

You do have to admit, that it’s been a few days since the last time you two got together like this. With some stress at his work and your own life, you didn’t want to bother him too much- rather deciding to let him reach out on his own, so you know that he’s up for it.

“You smell nice.” Jungkook comments, running his nose over the crook of your neck. “Is that the.. pink bottle you left here last time?” He asks a bit slurred, himself still somewhat asleep.

“Hmhm.” You nod. “It’s.. yeah. I forgot it.” You explain, moving a bit to give him better access, and also to show that you’re okay with this. “it’s body lotion.”

“smells better on you than it does on me.” He chuckles.

“You used it?” You wonder, and he shrugs, before moving to position himself over you, reaching into his bedside table for a condom.

“Hey you left it here!” He defends himself. “but it didn’t smell as nice on me.” He admits, shrugging before he moves to shed his cotton pajama pants- the shirt long gone, a habit of his during the night.

“Well, now I’m here.” You say, and he nods, smiling.

“You are.” He agrees, tapping your hips to make you lift them, his hands pulling down your underwear and sleep shorts off in one go. He gives the condom to you for now, before he lifts your legs over his shoulders, head lowering between your thighs to eat you out. He’s got a habit of holding eye contact with you during the act, and even now, he does so- soaking up every one of your reactions, eager to see you restless beneath his touch.

This is the type of love he’d hoped for when he married. This is what he thought could grow from nothing.

But he’s realizing now that that was a mistake- you can’t just hope for the best and then be disappointed when things don’t turn out the way you’d wanted them. There’s got to be effort put into it, and knowing that now makes him accept the fact that his ex wife isn’t the only reason his marriage failed. He himself also made mistakes, many of them- agreeing to going out with her when he didn’t love her being one of them.

There’s no clear villain and no obvious victim in his story.

Your skin is soft beneath his hands as he runs them up and down the sides of your legs- body squirming from his actions beneath them, as you experience things you haven’t before. You’ve never really had anyone ever pay so much attention to you in any way- be it sexually or just with the way that he calls daily to make sure he at least checks in with you whenever you’re apart. And thinking about it, there’s nothing speaking against living together- what's really the worst that could happen?

You’ve been through the worst. You know that Jungkook would never be anything close to that.

Your hand finds its way into his hair, unsure where else it’s supposed to go- and you’re faintly apologetic about the way you’re most likely tugging on it the second he pushes you over the edge- but he’s visibly uncaring of it, none of it bothering him it seems. He chuckles as he comes back up to you, wiping his face with his hand before he watches you open your eyes again to look at him. “You okay?” He chuckles, and you nod.

“I want to move in with you.” You say, and he’s caught off guard, eyes wide for a second before he leans back a little to properly look at you.

“You sure?” He wonders, and you nod.

“Hmhm.” You nod. “I.. Want to.” You tell him, and he smiles, clearly excited.

“Okay.” He nods. “Okay! Yeah, we can.. Uhm, I mean, I’ve got the next week and a half set for home-office, so I can help you with the furniture?” He proposes, and you laugh, almost in relief, before he steals the still wrapped condom from your hand that's been holding it the entire time, face leaning down to kiss you.

"But first, let me love you some more."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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cheesiedomino · 2 months

Text

Second chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T

now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.

As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.

Life really can be cruel at times.

“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”

One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.

You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.

“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”

God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.

“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”

“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.

It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.

“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.

“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.

“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.

It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.

“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.

You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.

“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”

You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.

It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.

Must be nice..

Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?

What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.

It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.

‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.

Minho 🐈:

Hey is this still ___’s number?

You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.

Yes… who’s this?

After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?

Your phone dings again.

Minho 🐈:

Srsly -_-

Did you really delete my number??

Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.

Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P

Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.

Minho 🐈:

Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)

No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!

Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.

You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.

Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”

Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.

You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?

“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.

It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.

You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.

Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.

He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.

You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.

“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”

Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.

“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.

“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”

They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.

“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.

Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.

He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.

“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.

“Of course dear, anything for you.”

Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(

Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’

Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.

The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.

You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.

His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.

You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.

“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.

Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.

“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.

He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.

After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.

“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.

“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.

You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.

“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”

Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”

“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”

Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.

“Hm?”

“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.

You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.

Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.

[End <3].

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heavenlybey · 9 months

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a/n hi y’all this is my first time writing so pls keep that in mind.. also if you have some tips or feedback i would appreciate it!!

Remind you

⚠️Smut

Connie was getting sick of your nasty attitude. you’ve been ignoring his texts and calls for a while now and it was getting on his nerves. But posting that quote that said: “if he ain’t treat you right, his opp might” followed with a picture of you cuddled up with another dude? And not just any dude..Jean??? “She’s got me fucked up” connie mumbled to himself while putting his shoes on. He was done with your attitude and he was going to fix things tonight!

You on the other hand, didn’t have a care in the world. You had just gotten out of your relaxing bath, ready to end the night with a glass of wine and watching your fav show. That was until you heard three hard knocks on your door. “who the hell?” you thought to yourself as you went to go open the door and were met with a very angry Connie. As soon as you saw him you rolled your eyes and tried to close the door. Not wanting to deal with his shit and just go finish the rest of your wine. But Connie was faster and put this foot between the door, he fully opened the door and let himself inside. “Get the fuck out of my house, Connie” you angrily said to him. “Jean huh?” “Get out of my house!” Connie found it amusing how YOU were the one that’s angry while he should’ve been the one who was angry.

“no, we’re gonna talk about this. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re posting pics with another man, you think imma let this shit slide ma?”

“You never make time for me anymore and, i can’t do this shit anymore. I’m don-“

Oh you got him fucked up. His lips coming down to yours in a hungry kiss. Tongue swiping across your parted lips. Pressing his erection against you. A moan wanting to escape from the feeling of his growing erection against yours. Trying to push him away, he kept a firm grip around your neck. “i’m serious, i’m done witcho bitchass” you said which resulted into you being thrown onto your bed. Connie dragging you back, ripping your black silky robe off. You’re fully naked laying before him, sending a hard slap on your ass, a gasp fell from your lips.

“I don’t care what you say, we’re not done mama”

He flips you onto your back without any type of warning, forcing your knees up against your shoulders. You are completely spread out for him, running his eyes over your wet pussy. When he looks back up to you, you know because of the look on his face, your shit is about the be fucked up.

Connie is mad as hell, he doesn’t bother with any sweet touches. Going straight between your legs to suck on your clit. You let out a gasp saying “ohh god!” His tongue meeting your entrance to thrust inside of you. He leans up to make eye contact with you while he spit right on your pussy. You both watch the spit slowly rolling downwards, towards your entrance. His long tongue came down to glide from your entrance to your clit then sucking on your bud. “F-Fuck-“ is all you could say, feeling him chuckle while he was sucking up your arousal. Filling his mouth full of your wetness. “You think Jean can make you feel this good mami?” You were already feeling the tight knot in your stomach, you knew your orgasm was only a few licks away and so did Connie. Your lips fell open once again to moan, but before you could get anything out, he shoved his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck. Get them nice and wet for me, ma.” You took his deep into your throat, sucking and swirling like you would his dick. The pleased look on his face pissed you off. You decided, without much thinking about the consequences to open your big mouth and say something stupid.

“This is how i sucked off Jean yesterday.” You said with a smug look. The smug look on your face was wiped away immediately when Connie flips you onto your stomach, your face hitting the bed first before he spreads your legs wide open with his hands at your ankles. “Talking about another dude while i’m in between your legs, are you crazy or sum??” Your back arched deep, just the way you knew he liked it. His big hand gripping yours to keep you from running. A deep moan leaves both of you as he brutally enters your pussy. His dick settling inside you while he splits you apart and makes room for himself without giving you a chance to adjust. It’s hard to breathe with his dick so deep inside you, the only thing you can do is whine and moan. His thrust deepened as you were trying your best to push him away. The tapping of your hands on his pelvic area making him look down to where you both connected. “What? You can’t handle it ma? Where is that big mouth of yours now huh?

“Please Connie..it’s too much..i-i can’t.” you cried out. Connie scoffed. “i really don’t fucking care ma. Take this fucking dick. Imma remind you who you’re talking to. Gonna make sure never you forget again.” he said while grabbing the back of your neck to pushing your face into the mattress while he is fucking you. You were a moaning mess. Connie was giving you the deepest strokes, constantly hitting your g-spot without any stopping. You felt the tight knot in you stomach starting to form again as your pussy started to get tighter around Connie’s dick. “Don’t even think about cumming. You gon hold that shit mami.”

#aot x connie #aot x black reader #aot x y/n #aot x black y/n #connie x black y/n #connie x black reader #connie x reader smut #connie x you #connie springer

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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

Text

Story Time || LN4 & MV1

Random blurb that popped into my head. Lando Norris x Fem!reader, platonic!max verstappen x bestfriend!reader

Max was streaming with his Redline Team as he usually did when it wasn’t race week. You had received the notification that he had gone live on Twitch and grabbed Lando’s laptop from beside the bed to log in and watch it.

“Okay, I have another story you might enjoy.”

Lando chuckled as he entered the room with the cups of tea he had gone to make. “His stories are the best.”

There was never a shortage of stories from Max and you were lucky to have witnessed them for a large portion of your life. You had known Max since you were young and it was through him that you met Lando.

Your boyfriend handed you the mug that he had given you for Valentine’s Day last year: a big red heart that had his LN4 symbol in the middle. It still amused you that his gift was really for himself and you happily drank from it every day.

“He can hardly keep a straight face,” you said as you pointed to Max’s video feed. “It has to be a good one.”

“So I got a call last week from my good friend, Y/N.” Max had to stop to take a sip of his red Bull as he was laughing too much. “She was on a date with Lando, still don’t know how that happened but that’s another story, and they went to dinner in Florence. Lovely, right. One thing about Lando and Y/N, their Italian is absolutely terrible.”

“I’m already offended,” you said as you grabbed your phone.

“Oh, she’s watching the stream!” Max laughed as he read the text message you had sent him and he held it up to the screen for a second. “It says, ‘eighteen years of friendship and you settle on good? I’m insulted. Sincerely, your ex-best friend and current good friend.’ I think I’ve hurt her feelings. I’m sorry, I love you.

“Anyway, my good friend, she sends me a photo of her meal and immediately calls me. ‘Like what the fuck is this? I asked for pasta.’ Blah, blah, blah. Turns out she ordered a bean salad. She’s too embarrassed to admit she messed up so she eats the salad, she fucking hates salads, and then orders dessert.

“I get another picture and phone call soon after and she’s absolutely fuming because she received another bean salad.”

Lando was in hysterics beside you as he relived the disastrous date and he put his mug down before more tea spilled over the bedspread. “I’m sorry, baby, but it was funny.”

The chat down the side of the live stream was already getting bombarded with information you could have done with last weekend.

@/tifosi1: Cannelloni = Pasta @/vinividivici: Cannellini = Beans @/verstap1: Cannoli = Dessert

“We’ll have to see if she shows up to Monza, because she swore she would never step foot in Italy again.”

You fired another text through and he choked on his laugh. “I can’t read this one out loud, I’ll probably get censored and the race is ready. That’s it for story time.”

“I hate him,” you huffed as you slammed the laptop closed.

“I don’t,” Lando grinned, taking the laptop away and pulling you into his arms. “He brought you into my life.”

“Shhh, stop being sweet and let me be mad at him.”

“Okay, he’s an absolute bastard. We should toilet paper his apartment and throw eggs at his car.”

You cupped his face and pecked him on the lips. “Thank you. That must have been hard to say.”

“Yeah,” he shivered with a grimace. “Can we not be mad at him now? I don’t like it.”

“Me neither…fine.”

You unlocked your phone and sent him one last text.

To Max: I’m still your best friend.

You didn’t receive a reply until his race finished and you smiled as you showed it to Lando.

From Max: Always.

#max verstappen fanfic #lando norris fanfic #max verstappen x you #lando norris x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #lando norris imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #lando norris x y/n

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geminiwritten · 1 year

Text

undercover ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you have to go undercover as butcher’s wife to vought’s annual supe celebration - prompt (that i don’t remember where i saw it, i’m sorry!): “I bet you one hundred dollars that you’re hard right now.” *he stands up and drops $100 on the table*

notes: i wrote this in one day and you can tell!!! it’s so rushed, i’m so sorry, but also i’m just hot for this man and refuse to stop??? let me know what you think!

warnings: swearing, very small alcohol consumption, very light smut, and a bit of harassment from an unwelcome dude

word count: 6496

“You have a thing for Butcher?” Hughie gasps, the apartment door swinging open as he steps inside.

Annie’s eyes grow wide, her hand covering her mouth to try and hide her cheeky smile. You scowl at her before turning to Hughie, his face a comical mixture of disgust and amusement.

“What have I said about eavesdropping on movie night, Hubert?” you demand, calling him by the stupid nickname you know he hates.

He rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I texted Annie to say I was on my way home. It’s not my fault you’re practically shouting about the fact that you want to fu-”

“Hughie,” Annie giggles, “be careful.”

“Hey,” he says, turning to her, “I’m just repeating what I heard.”

You hold your face in your hands and groan, sinking back into the soft couch cushions and praying that they might open up and swallow you into a different dimension.

“I’m sorry,” Annie sighs, “I honestly just lost track of time.”

Hughie drops his keys and wallet on the kitchen bench alongside two plastic bags that wreak of cheap Chinese food. Your stomach grumbles at the smell, and you reluctantly pull yourself off the couch before dragging your feet toward the kitchen.

“So,” Hughie says with a grin, “how long has this been going on then?”

“Nothing is going on,” you state, “and it’s certainly none of your business.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone,” he begins helping you unpack the bags of food, “besides, I had a sneaking suspicion. You do kind of look at him like-”

You pull a butterknife out of the draw and point it at him, “Like what?”

He freezes, his hands flying up on either side of his head in surrender.

Annie laughs again, “Okay, you two, cut it out.”

You put the knife down and retrieve three full sets of cutlery before setting a stack of bowls beside the containers of food. Hughie serves himself first before Annie fills her own bowl and you last, already shovelling mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth as you move back toward the couch.

“You know,” Hughie says between mouthfuls, “if you wanted to talk about it, I might be able to help.”

You scoff, “Yeah? How?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, talk to him.”

“And say what?” you drop your fork into your bowl, mocking Hughie’s voice as you say, “Hey Butcher, do you think Y/N is hot, because I know she dreams about fucking you.”

He scowls at you, “I can be subtle.”

Annie giggles, hiding her face behind her bowl as Hughie casts his glare toward her.

“I appreciate your concern, Hughie,” you say, “but I think I’ll just stick to fantasising about him in the shower.”

His expression morphs into disgust as he begins choking on his mouthful of food, his face turning bright red. Annie’s laughter fills the room, and you join her while Hughie struggles to compose himself.

To your surprise, and relief, Hughie agrees to keep your little secret to himself. He doesn’t even make a stupid face the next day when the three of you arrive at the boys’ current hideout, finding MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and the man himself huddled around the dining room table.

“Righ’ on time,” Butcher says with a grin, “let’s get to it, then.”

You knew he was excited about this next mission, if you could call it that. Everyone was, in fact, because thanks to Annie’s excellent intel, you were all attending Vought’s annual ball. A night of celebration to thank the mighty Supes for keeping the streets safe, or as Butcher liked to call it, Vought’s annual wank-fest.

“Your invitations are all sorted,” Annie says, pulling a small handful of envelopes out of her bag. “Hughie came up with all your aliases, so please stick to them, or you’ll be kicked out in a heartbeat. Security is tough at this thing, and there’ll be no talking yourselves out of a bad situation.”

She looks pointedly at Butcher, but his smirk only widens.

“Frenchie,” Hughie says, “you’re going as a member of the tech team, so you’ll be behind the scenes and keeping an eye on the cameras for anything suspicious.”

Frenchie rubs his hands together excitedly, taking the envelope from Annie and tearing it open.

“Monsieur Felipe Lavigne, senior security technician,” he announces, reading the ID card aloud.

“MM and Kimiko, you’ll be with me,” Hughie goes on, “we’ll be posing as press on behalf of the city council. There’s a huge group of council members and associates, so all we have to do is blend in.”

MM takes two envelopes and passes one to Kimiko.

Hughie turns to you, “I originally had you listed as press too, but then decided it might be smart to double down on Butcher’s alias, give him another level of cover, you know?”

You frown, tilting your head sceptically as he hands you and Butcher an envelope each.

“You’ll be attending as prospective stakeholders, invited by corporate to bask in the glory of Vought in the hopes that you’ll invest in their cause,” Hughie explains. “An affluent couple from upstate New York, recently immigrated from Britain after growing bored of your rich English lifestyle.”

You’re almost positive your brows have reached your hairline as you stare at the envelope in your hands, your trembling fingers struggling to pull the ID badge out.

“Brooklyn Williams,” you read aloud.

Annie shoots Hughie a look, promising that he would be paying for this later, and you realise that he must have made this decision in the past twelve hours without consulting her.

“William Williams,” Butcher says, frowning at Hughie, “really?”

Despite being the target of several unhappy stares, Hughie chuckles.

Frenchie snickers too, “At least you will not forget it, eh?”

“Smart move, Hughie,” MM speaks up, “Butcher is the one most likely to be caught, but with Y/N in tow, he might think twice about putting himself in danger.”

Butcher rolls his eyes, “Do none of you ‘ave any faith in me?”

Hughie, Frenchie, and MM respond in unison, “No.”

The seven of you spend the next two hours going over the details of your aliases and the agenda of the function. It’s going to be a huge event, which meant little risk of actually running into Homelander or anyone who might recognise any of you. Annie won’t be able to help on the night, being one of the spotlight attendees, but that isn’t what’s was making you nervous. You’re going to have to spend a good five hours pretending to be married to Butcher, the one man you desperately want and the one man you were trying very hard not to fall in love with.

After what feels like forever, Frenchie announces that he is going to get dinner and Annie bids you all goodbye to check in at Vought tower. Hughie sets his laptop up at the desk in the corner of the lounge room while MM excuses himself for his nightly facetime call with Janine.

Kimiko turns to you, signing a question about what you were all going to wear on the night.

“Annie helped me organise some things,” you reply, gesturing toward the suitcase by the door. “You should try it on now, and if you don’t like it we can find something else.”

You know Kimiko isn’t a fan of cocktail attire, and you definitely didn’t want her walking into the dragon’s den worrying about the way she looked or if she’d be able to fight should the need arise.

“What ‘bout me, love?” Butcher asks, his signature smirk curling the corner of his lips.

Your cheeks burn under his gaze, “You don’t get a choice, you’ll be wearing a suit.”

He chuckles, “I do love a stubborn woman, must’ve been why I married you.”

Your pulse thrums in your ears, and you fail to think of a sarcastic retort, instead turning away in the hopes that he hasn’t already noticed the bright colour in your cheeks.

Kimiko drops the case on its back with a thud, unzipping it quickly and throwing it open to pull out each of the bagged costumes. There are four suits of various styles with varying accessories, and two dresses. She stands holding the one labelled with her name, dragging the zip right down the middle and revealing the soft black fabric of her dress. It isn’t quite full length, hemmed just below the knee in a pencil skirt style and devoid of any embellishments. A simple black dress with long sleeves, fitted but flexible.

She grins, signing to you that it is perfect and thanking you for not putting her in anything ridiculous.

“We chose two pairs of shoes too,” you say, “in case you don’t want to wear the heels.”

Butcher strides toward the suitcase and picks up the last bag, but you follow him, quickly snatching it out of his hands before he can pull the zip.

“My dress can wait until the night,” you hold it behind your back for good measure, “I’m still not sure about it.”

He quirks one brow, “You’re not wearin’ latex, are ya?”

You roll your eyes before turning on your heel, taking your dress into your room and tucking it into the back of your closet. You fall back on your bed, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you try to calm your erratic pulse. It’s just one night, you can hold it together for one night, right?

The next two days pass in a blur of preparations and planning, and before you know it, you’re staring at the dress hanging in your closet with a towel wrapped around your body. Your hair is clean and curled, pulled into a half up do with twisted gold pins creating the illusion of diadem just below the crown of your head. You took a little longer to do your makeup than usual, out of practice in the art of winged eyeliner and false lashes, but in the end, you were proud. Now, the dress.

Your fingers are numb as you pull the zipper down, revealing the red silk material of the gown that Annie convinced you would be a good idea. You blame her for this just as much as Hughie.

“Come on, Y/N,” MM calls through your bedroom door, “we have to go.”

You sigh and throw your towel aside, hurriedly pulling the dress off its hanger. The material is cool against your skin, sliding easily over your curves and fitting your body like a tailor-made glove. You twist awkwardly to secure the zip before turning to the mirror.

The dress is floor length, a few inches of the red silk pooling at your feet, with a long slit reaching scandalously up to your left hip. The straps are about an inch thick, and the neck cowled, showcasing your breasts and the perfect amount cleavage. The silk hugs your torso, and you’re a little startled at just how good you feel in this dress.

Another knock at the door has you rushing to slip into your beige heels, and you check that your underwear are pulled high enough to not be seen in the slit of the dress before opening the door. MM’s jaw drops.

“Holy shit, Y/N.”

You blush, “Thanks.”

Being the gentleman he is, he tears his eyes away from you, offering you his arm with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

In the lounge room, Kimiko is helping Frenchie with his tie and Hughie is struggling to secure his suspenders to his trousers. Your breath catches when your eyes land on Butcher, dressed in a classic and perfectly fitted black tux. He has even trimmed his beard and styled his hair, still a little dishevelled but holy shit, does the sight of him make your mouth water.

“Damn,” Hughie says when he sees you, “nice dress.”

“Nice suspenders.”

He chuckles, “Are we ready?”

Butcher turns to you, his jaw going slack and his eyes dark. Your chest squeezes, your lungs struggling to draw enough breath as your head spins from the lack of oxygen.

“Ready,” MM says beside you.

“Good,” Hughie tucks his ID badge into his shirt pocket, “I’ve organised two cars, one for Y/N and Butcher, and the other for the rest of us. Once we’re there, we can’t slip up, keep your masks up and don’t even look at anyone you think might recognise you.”

You check your small black clutch for your ID badge and phone.

“Earpieces are too risky tonight,” he continues, “so keep your phones on you, and if one of us is out, we all abort.”

Kimiko checks her own purse and the boys check their pockets before you all shuffle out the door. Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and Kimiko exit the building first, leaving you and Butcher alone in the lobby.

“You ready, sweethear’?” he asks, gazing at you with the same dark eyes as before.

You nod, “As I’ll ever be.”

After a minute, you exit the apartment and climb into the awaiting car. Butcher greets the driver as the car pulls away from the curb, and you take the chance to pull your phone out, typing out a quick message to Hughie.

‘I’m going to kill you.’

Your phone pings before you can put it away, and you quickly turn it to silent before reading his reply.

‘You’re welcome ;)’

A warm hand on your bare legs startles you, the heat sinking into your blood and making it sizzle through your veins.

“You sure you’re alrigh’?” Butcher asks.

“Yeah,” you mutter, “just nervous.”

His thumb rubs soft circles on your thigh, sending shockwaves of desire right to your core.

“Nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, love, I’ve got you.”

Your eyes almost roll back in your head at the sound of his deep voice. He truly does not know how much he does have you, all of you.

“Thanks, Billy,” you whisper, your voice unsteady.

His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of car ride, and your pulse refuses to settle. Anxiety and desire tangle in your stomach, twisting it into loops and winding the knot in your core even tighter than it already was.

Eventually, the car stops, and you both thank the driver before climbing out. You’re not at the main entrance of the building, but there is still a ridiculous number of security guards standing around, and barriers preventing anyone without an invitation from getting within twenty feet of the door. Butcher wraps an arm around your waist to guide you forward, his warmth shielding you from the cold night air.

“By the way,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you look fuckin’ delectable in that dress.”

Another wave of heat washes through your veins, and it takes every ounce of focus for you to not stumble up the walkway. Two security guards step forward as you both flash your ID badges.

“Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” the guard in front of Butcher says, scanning the barcodes on the badges, “welcome to Vought tower.”

The security guard in front of you is younger than the other, his blonde hair slicked back and his mouth etched into a sleazy smirk as his eyes rake up and down your body. He winks as he steps aside, and Butcher notices, his expression twisting into a scowl.

Just as you reach the doors, Butcher’s hand slips from your waist to your ass, squeezing it as he dips down and plants a hot kiss against your neck.

“Fuckin’ perve,” he mutters, before guiding you through the doors and down the corridor.

Your mouth is dry and your knees wobbly, but you move with practice and manage to appear cool and collected as you step into the huge event room. It’s extravagantly decorated with drapes of sheer fabric hanging from the high ceilings and a huge crystal chandelier in the centre. There are dozens of round tables, all set with fine silver-wear and obnoxious centrepieces made of red and white roses.

“Nice to know where all our money will be going if we decide to invest, darlin’,” Butcher says with a cheeky grin.

You giggle, letting him guide you through the clusters of elegantly dressed attendees toward where you assumed your table would be. You don’t remember ever finding out that piece of information, but you assume either Hughie or Annie told Butcher while you were still reeling about having to play ‘happy couple’ with him.

You listen carefully to snippets of conversations as you pass, waiting for anything interesting to catch your attention. Butcher stops at an empty table and pulls out a chair, you smile in thanks before taking a seat, quickly shuffling forward to avoid flashing everyone due to the ridiculously high split in your dress. Butcher notices though, chuckling to himself as he takes the chair beside you.

Before you can speak, he places a hand on your bare leg and squeezes, knocking every thought right out of your head.

You gasp, “I-It’s hot in here, is it hot in here?”

“I think that’s jus’ you, sweethear’,” he replies with a wink.

The room quickly fills with guests, conversations growing louder and drowning out the soft music playing over the speakers. Eventually, a woman takes the stage and the room falls quiet, listening to her lengthy introduction about how grateful Vought were for this night and how wonderful it is to be able to celebrate America’s finest superheroes. You can barely hear her though, your ears filled with the thrum of your pulse as Butcher’s fingers draw patterns on your leg. Your core aches, and you shift in your seat only to feel the dampness between your legs.

When the room erupts into applause, Butcher’s hand freezes, and you turn to see Homelander striding onto the stage, his hair blinding beneath the bright spotlight.

“Hey,” you whisper, placing a hand on top of Butcher’s, “you okay?”

He turns to you and his scowl relaxes, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah,” he replies, “I’m good.”

You slip your other hand beneath his, praying that he doesn’t notice how sweaty your palms are as you play with his fingers beneath the table. Although you had started in the hopes of calming him, you find your own sense of relaxation in his touch, focusing on the feeling of his skin as Homelander drawls on about Vought and The Seven.

After what feels like an eternity, he finishes his speech and the room cheers again. The woman returns to the microphone to announce the first course of food before music and conversation fills the air, and you turn your attention toward the centre of the table. Butcher grips your hand as you attempt to move it, entwining his fingers with yours and only allowing one of your hands free.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you two at one of these events before,” the woman beside you says.

She’s older but extremely elegant, with a pendant around her neck that you don’t doubt costs more money than you’ll ever get to see in your bank account.

“We’re new in town,” you reply, your voice very slightly lilted, “just moved from London’s east end, actually.”

“How charming,” she places a hand against her pendant, “I’m Lucille, and this is my husband, Jack.”

The podgy man beside her nods, his cheeks and nose bright red as he guzzles from his glass of champagne.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say, “I’m Brooklyn, and this is my husband, William.”

You cast a glance at Butcher, only to find his eyes already locked on you, sparkling under the soft yellow lights. He has dopey smile on his lips and an emotion you can’t discern floating behind his gaze. Your stomach flips.

“You do make a charming, if you don’t mind my saying,” Lucille says.

You nod, your cheeks tingling with warmth, “Thank you.”

“So,” her husband, Jack, speaks up, his voice gruff, “what brings you here?”

You wait a beat for Butcher to reply, but he only watches you with that same expression.

“To be totally honest with you, I’m not sure,” you reply with a half-hearted laugh, “we have been thinking about investing, but I do wonder why a company of this immensity even needs investors.”

Jack chuckles, “You’ve got that right, seems greedy, doesn’t it?”

Lucille frowns at her husband before turning back to you, “We don’t do it for them, we do it for our grandkids, for their future. In the hopes that they will have a future, a safe one. This world is a nasty place.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” you sigh.

She nods, “That’s why it’s important to protect what you love, and hold on to it.”

Butcher’s hand squeezes yours, making your heart thump violently within your chest. You turn to him and meet his eyes, the fire in your veins blazing with a new intensity and heating every inch of your skin.

“I-If you’ll excuse me,” you stammer, pushing your chair back, “I need to use the bathroom.”

Butcher nods as you stand, and you can hear Lucille strike up new conversation while you weave between the tables toward the exit. Fresh air fills your lungs the moment you reach the foyer, and you pull your phone out of your bag, finding Hughie’s contact name with trembling fingers.

‘If I survive tonight, I WILL kill you.’

You hit send and turn toward the bathroom, almost stumbling when you see the same blonde security guard who had been stationed at the doors.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, his slimy smirk loading the question with innuendo.

“I’m okay,” you reply, “thank you.”

He steps forward before you can move, “You sure? You look a little flustered. Perhaps a step outside might help? It does get awfully hot in here.”

The first spark of fear rattles up your spine.

“I appreciate that, but I just need to use the restroom,” you say.

His smirk doesn’t falter, “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I’d be more than happy to escort you. Can’t have a stunning woman such as yourself wandering the streets alone.”

You force a polite smile onto your face as you step around him and hurry down the corridor toward the bathrooms. With one subtle glance over your shoulder, you see him watching, still standing at the end of the hall looking almost predatory.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, turning sharply into the first stall.

You close the toilet lid and sit on top if it, holding your head in your hands and counting your breaths. After a minute of trying to wrangle your wild thoughts, you decide that Butcher is either a fantastic actor or… in love with you. Your heart aches to agree with the latter, but your brain fights for reason, reminding you that you’re in an incredibly sensitive situation and he is only acting like this to keep up the façade.

You sigh and stand up, panic piercing your chest when you remember the pushy security guard waiting for you in the foyer. You find your phone again, tapping on Butcher’s name and quickly typing out a message.

‘Don’t freak out, I’m totally fine, but I need you to come get me. Foyer.’

You count to thirty before exiting the stall and washing your hands, pleasantly surprised by your reflection in the mirror, aside from the deep red splashed across your cheeks. You walk calmly out of the bathroom and down the corridor, ignoring the spike in your pulse when you see the back of the security guard still standing there.

He turns around at the sound of your footsteps, a smirk curling his lips. “Hey gorgeous, are you-”

“There you are,” Butcher calls, striding toward you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand splayed across your lower back as he presses your body against his. You don’t have time to respond before his lips capture yours. Your knees almost buckle, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as his mouth moves against yours and your mind goes completely blank.

He pulls back ever so slightly, his forehead still touching yours as he whispers, “I missed you.”

The feeling that bubbles in your chest makes your heart want to explode.

“Better get back in there,” he says, carefully releasing you.

You nod, unable to summon a single word as he looks at you like that, his pupils blown and his lips swollen from the kiss. He takes one of your hands in his and pulls you toward the doors before casting a menacing scowl over his shoulder at the security guard.

“Did he touch you?” he asks, his voice low.

You shake your head, “No.”

“Good.”

“Wait,” you tug on his hand before he can walk through the doors.

He frowns as you pull him to the side, into an alcove beneath the grand stairs that lead up to the private rooms above the event hall. He doesn’t resist when you press him against the wall, your hands on his chest and your body covering his. You look up at him through your thick lashes, and you can feel a soft groan rumble through his chest.

“I’m not sure we were convincing enough,” you whisper, before surging up and pressing your lips against his.

His hands hold the back of your head as he tilts his own to deepen the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and making you whimper. Your ears fill with the erratic thrum of your heart and the soft moans from the man in front of you, making you forget about everything that isn’t him. The fire rushing through your veins collects at your core, burning with need and making you clench as his hands wander down your back to cup your ass.

Time loses all meaning as you tangle your limbs with his, your body throbbing almost painfully. You have to stop yourself from clawing at his clothes, every desire within you craving to tear his suit apart and absolutely devour him.

Eventually, your lungs begin to burn, and the short gasps between kisses aren’t enough to appease them, so you pull away. His pupils are huge, consuming almost all of the colour in his eyes as he studies your face with a small smile.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs.

You open your mouth to tell him the same when someone clears their throat, and you both snap toward the sound. Hughie is standing a few feet away, his ID badge now on a lanyard around his neck and a notebook in his hand. His face looks pained, struggling to contain what would be a hysterical laugh if you weren’t all supposed to be undercover.

You stumble back from Butcher with wide eyes, your mouth trying to form words but no sound comes out.

Butcher straightens his jacket and clears his throat, “Sorry, mate, as you were.”

Hughie takes a deep breath and turns toward the room, and you have to commend him for his self-control.

Butcher looks down at you, “D’you think that was convincing enough?”

You giggle, “Maybe a little too convincing.”

He smirks and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping at the smeared lipstick. You know you must look like a wreck, your makeup smudged and your face blotchy and red, but you don’t care.

“Better get back in there before you get me arrested for public indecency,” he says, taking your hand in his.

You laugh again as he leads you back into the room, guiding you through the throngs of people and toward your table. Lucille greets you with a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she surveys your flustered state. Butcher sits and shuffles his chair closer to yours before placing a hand on your thigh, much higher than where it was before.

“It’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” Lucille whispers to you.

You frown, “What is?”

“That love and passion,” she replies with a grin. “He just adores you, I can tell. Don’t ever let go of what you two have, it’s rare.”

You try to hide your smile, but it’s almost impossible. “I won’t.”

You’re not sure what you’ve missed but you assume it was Annie’s speech as the chatter around you is filled mostly with her name. The woman from before returns to the stage to rave some more, though you don’t bother trying to pay attention. Butcher is watching you with hungry eyes, filling your head with filthy thoughts and absolutely soaking your panties.

“So, Mrs. Williams,” he says, his voice low, “got any plans after this?”

“Not really,” you reply, “but I do think there’s a toy in the top drawer of my dresser calling my name.”

He swallows thickly, “Is that so?”

You nod, “I’m feeling a little wound up.”

“Perhaps I could help you unwind,” he whispers, “think I’d do a better job than that fuckin’ toy.”

“That’s a bold statement, are you sure?”

His fingers dig into your thighs with enough pressure to bruise, making your whole body jolt.

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure.”

His hand slides up your thigh and you part your legs instinctively.

He smirks, “Good girl, so responsive.”

The burning in your core pulses, sending white hot waves of desire up your spine to cloud your mind. His fingers brush the crotch of your panties, barely a touch but enough to make you sigh softly.

“You’re soaked,” he whispers, “so ready for my c-”

Cheers erupt throughout the room, drowning out his voice and startling you out of your stupor. His hand slides back down your leg and his smirk breaks into a devilish grin when you look at him with a scowl.

“Sorry, love,” he says as he retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, drawing steady breaths and trying to focus on anything but the man beside you. He chuckles at his phone before tucking it back into his pocket.

“Was that your mistress?” you tease.

He raises his brows, “Is that jealousy I’m hearin’?”

You slide your hand up his thigh, stopping just below his crotch to squeeze.

“You tell me, do I have anything to be jealous of?”

His voice is almost a groan, “Never.”

“Good.”

You slide your hand over his crotch, relishing in the way his whole body tenses before you pull back and fold your hands in your own lap. He sighs and takes a generous gulp from his glass of champagne, grimacing at the taste before leaning toward you with an arm over the back of your chair.

“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You turn to him, your face barely an inch from his, “Oh, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

He leans back in his chair, his jaw tense but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You fond of that dress?” he asks casually.

“This old thing? Nah.”

He nods once, “Good, because I’m goin’ to fuckin’ destroy it.”

The woman sitting on his other side chokes on her mouthful of champagne, casting an abhorrent glare toward the two of you before completely turning her back. You have to swallow your laughter, averting your gaze to your lap as Butcher chuckles quietly.

You feel your purse vibrate at the same time that Butcher reaches for his pocket. You pull your phone out and check the messages, finding several from Hughie.

‘We’re here to WORK, not fornicate.’

‘I just spent five minutes laughing to myself in the toilet.’

‘The shows closing soon, we should leave before the crowds. Unless you and Butcher are busy ;)’

“D’you think you can make it out of here without your knees bucklin’, love?” Butcher asks with a smirk.

You tuck your phone away and twist in your chair so that your legs are toward him, parting them slowly. The red silk slides against your skin and the split opens with your legs. Butcher’s gaze drops, his whole face turning red as his eyes grow wide.

“I bet you a hundred dollars that you’re rock hard right now,” you whisper, leaning forward.

His jaw twitches as his gaze moves to your chest, and you smirk before twisting toward Lucille.

“We’re going to duck out before the masses, but it was lovely meeting you,” you say, “and best wishes to your grandkids. They’re lucky to have such incredible grandparents.”

She smiles at you, her eyes watery, “It was lovely meeting you too, dear.”

Her husband grumbles a farewell and you smile politely at the rest of the table who you hadn’t bothered to meet before turning back to Butcher expectantly. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the way he shifts in his seat.

“Pleasure meeting you,” he nods toward Lucille and Jack.

He pushes his chair back and stands up, drawing a hand out of his pocket and dropping two fifty dollar bills onto the table before stepping back. A grin breaks across your face as you snatch the money and stand up, taking Butcher’s outstretched hand and letting him lead you out of the room. You almost stumble at the pace at which he drags you through the crowds, not stopping until you’re through the foyer, out the doors, and a good distance from the building’s entrance.

“You owe me,” he growls, yanking on your wrist so that you fall into his arms.

“Take whatever you want,” you whisper, “I’m all yours.”

Another rumble vibrates through his chest, and the knot of anticipation in your stomach twists tighter.

“Good, you’re here,” Hughie calls, his feet slapping against the pavement as he jogs toward you.

Butcher’s hold goes slack, and you take a reluctant step away from him as MM and Kimiko follow a few paces behind Hughie. The cold air nips at your bare skin, making you shiver.

“Where’s Frenchie?” MM asks.

“On his way,” Hughie replies with his phone in his hand, “and the car is close.”

You startle at the feeling of material falling around your shoulders, and glance up as Butcher steps in front of you, his arms guiding his blazer over your trembling body. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him through your thick lashes as his lips curl into a soft smile. He moves back to stand at your side and wraps one arm around you, pulling you against side.

Hughie’s grin is so wide you want to slap it off his face.

“Not a word,” Butcher mutters.

Hughie chuckles, “I didn’t say anything.”

MM is clearly amused, and even Kimiko is giggling when Frenchie comes jogging up behind them.

“Did I miss something?” he asks, his brows raised as he looks from Butcher to you.

“Car’s here,” Hughie announces, and you all step toward the curb.

Hughie climbs in the front seat and greets the driver before texting rapidly on his phone, no doubt messaging Annie to let her know you were all safe and heading home. Kimiko and Frenchie shuffle toward the back of the van, and MM grumbles when neither you nor Butcher volunteer to join them. He squeezes between the two of them on the backseat before Butcher helps you into the van, and you take the single seat behind the passenger as Butcher falls into the last seat behind the driver.

You shrink into his jacket, enveloping yourself in his scent and relishing the warmth that his body had left behind. His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of the trip, studying your face, lingering on your lips, and moving up and down your body over and over again.

The drive feels much longer than it should, but the car finally pulls up outside your apartment block and you all pile out. Frenchie begins rambling about pieces of information he overheard, and MM fills in some of the gaps with snippets that he picked up in the press crowd. You almost feel guilty that you did nothing but dry hump Butcher and chat with an elderly rich woman, but that guilt washes away the moment you step inside the apartment.

“Bed, now,” Butcher tells you, tugging you by your hand toward the master bedroom.

“Y/N,” Hughie calls before you can disappear, “I thought your bedroom was that way.”

You turn to him with a frown, finding that stupid boyish grin stretched across his lips as the rest of the room watches you with amused faces.

“I’m not going to sleep, Hughie,” you say, before turning to Butcher, “I’m not tired.”

You catch a glimpse of his disgusted expression before you turn and rush into Butcher’s bedroom, followed closely by the man himself. His hand catches the collar the jacket and pulls it off of you as you step toward the bed.

“Not tired?” he asks, starting on the top button of his shirt.

You sit on the edge of the bed and kick your heels off. “Not at all.”

“Good.”

In two strides, he’s right in front of you, using his knee to nudge your legs apart so he can stand between them. His eyes trace up your bare leg, stopping where the red material reveals an inch of your black panties, and he sighs.

“So,” you say, leaning back with your hands on the bed, “what do I owe you?”

His self-control snaps and his hands yank at the opening of his shirt, ripping the rest of the buttons apart before he shrugs it off his shoulders. He straddles your hips and pushes you back, his lips assaulting your neck as you writhe beneath him.

“You said, I could take whatever fuckin’ I want,” he mutters against your skin.

You only moan in response and he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise before soothing it with his tongue.

“I’m gon’a take all of you,” he growls, “but first-”

He sits back suddenly, his fingers making quick work of his belt and the fastenings of his trousers.

“I made a promise to this dress,” he finishes, before gripping the material on either side of the slit and ripping it.

You gasp as the silk falls loose around your body, tearing right up to the neck and cleaving the dress apart entirely. His eyes rake over your bare skin as he licks his lips and drops onto his hands to hover over you, grinding his hips down and eliciting another moan from your mouth.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighs, “you’re gon’a kill me with those pretty noises, sweethear’.”

“Butcher,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need you.”

His elbows buckle and his body falls on top of yours as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss.

“You have me,” he murmurs against your mouth, “you’ve got all of me.”

END.

#billy butcher #the boys #billy butcher x reader #butcher x reader #karl urban #one shot #oneshot #homelander #hughie campbell #starlight #mm #mothers milk #frenchie #kimiko #the female #fanfic #fanfiction

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vaguely-concerned · 7 months

Text

it probably says something either sad or deeply unfortunate about me as a person, but I'm darkly amused to see some people react to the reveal of the ultimate permeability of souls in tlt as a triumphant thing -- the "you can't take 'loved' away!!!" side of it all -- when my first reaction was such an immediate wave of 'oh, oh so this is why this series is horror, I truly understand now' distress haha. ngl the final confirmation of the self not being inviolable in the deepest way freaks me the fuck out far more than any moment of body horror in the series has managed. (these two elements are of course the two sides of one thematic coin; it's about the horror of our bodies and minds and selves not being inviolable things, and about the effect of violence on them on so many different levels. violence psychological and interpersonal, physical, subtextually sexual, emotional, medical, political, a whole unlovely smörgåsbord of indignity and violation a person can be exposed to, and on a broader scale the spectrum of violence colonialism wields). The world and other people being capable of leaving indelible marks on us for good or ill through their presence in our lives is of course a pretty self-evident demonstrable truth in the real world, but somehow having it be proven metaphysically just uh. Fucks me up!

It also drives home to me just how perfectly Muir has captured the dilemma at the heart of human connection and intimacy: the fact that the thing that gives us life and meaning is also capable of harming us so deeply. the same thing that can be so beautiful — even in a bittersweet, violently transformative form like with the creation of Paul — when done mutually and consensually and compassionately, is the same process that means someone like John can touch someone else's soul and 'after he's put his fingers on something, you'll never find anyone else's fingerprints on it; too much noise'. I think the text itself — the whole series, because to me this is what it is ultimately about, this tension between individuation/self vs. love/connection/enmeshment — is far more ambivalent in its treatment of it than saying it’s inherently a good thing or inherently a bad thing. The only thing it says for sure is that it is always a thing, that thinking you’re ever getting away from it is the height of futility, and that through being alive (or even through being dead lol) it is something you have to engage with in some way no matter what. Contact with other people is deeply necessary — without it we sicken and die. it can be the most beautiful and meaningful thing in a human life, and the most unspeakably horrific. All of these people are searching for some way to be whole, whether in total self-contained sufficiency on their own or in melding with someone else as their ‘other half’, and stumbling around in the dark they reach for each other and score deep wounds into the thing they’re trying to touch even when they don’t mean to. Taken to horrific extremes with the form of lyctorhood John guided his disciples to when they were ‘children — playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water, thinking it was space’, because while people hurt each other all the time with differing levels of intentionality behind it, what John did was deliberate. It weaponizes the misapprehension of what closeness must be and destroys everyone involved in the process… and all because it leaves John the one sun their ruined lives have left to orbit around, because that’s the closest thing his soul will allow to connection. He doesn’t understand that to truly touch something you have to truly let it touch you back, and then wonders why he’s never satisfied.

‘The horrors of love’ has been memed to death, I know, but… yeah. That is what it is, isn’t it.

#the locked tomb #the locked tomb meta #the unwanted guest #the unwanted guest spoilers #I wrote most of this right after reading tug for the first time but it's been so hard putting exactly what I mean into words #this is my best shot so far haha #I feel like a lot of a people have approached this lil 'revelation' a bit too... idk mechanistically? for my personal taste #I think it's far more thematically and metaphorically true than a scavenging hunt to see who's been rubbing off on who #spiritually. of course. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 1 year

Text

Kissing Ace and Deuce when they ask what flavour your lip balm is

I write Reader/Yuu as female

Masterlist

ACE TRAPPOLA

“Babe,” Ace groans for the twentieth time in the past two minutes, “pay attention to me.”

“Ace,” you give him a look that does little to hide your irritation as you swipe your lip balm across your lips, “can you please be quiet?”

“Come on, Y/N,” he whines, giving you a pout as he poked your shoulder, “I just wanna spend some time with my girl. Is that so wrong?”

You gave him a look as you secure your lip balm’s cap and placed it in your bag, “We are spending time together.”

“I mean doing something fun. Not studying like a bunch of nerds,” he complains, “when you invited me to Ramshackle I thought that we were going to have some us time without babysitting your annoying cat or Loosey Deucy.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “I do remember telling you that I was going to be studying for Professor Crewel’s test this Friday. It was your idea to join me. Besides, you haven’t even been studying for the past ten minutes. I don’t remember going over house of cards assembly in Alchemy class.”

“Excuse you, Prefect, I worked very hard on that. I don’t see why you need to study so hard anyways. You’re practically the top of our class.”

“That doesn’t mean that I should start getting lazy.”

“Seriously,” he sighs, “you’re starting to sound like Riddle. All I’m saying is that we should take a break for a while. I don’t see you going over your notes when you stopped to put on that lipstick of yours.”

“It’s not lipstick, it’s lip balm. And I put it on because my lips were drying up.”

“Huh, what flavour is it?”

You look at your boyfriend and glance down at the scribbles in his notebook. To his credit he did manage to get some studying done in the past forty-five minutes he had been sitting with you at your self-proclaimed study table so you supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him for a bit. With a cheeky smile, you look at him and ask, “do you really want to know?”

With a look of confusion on his face, he replied, “uh, yeah?”

You lean forwards and place your hands on either side of his face before bringing his head towards you. Tilting your head to the side, you press both of your lips together in a sweet kiss.

When you pull away he immediately grabs the collar of your shirt and kisses you again with a mumble of, “I need to double check.”

And again, “I didn’t check it properly.”

“For good measure,” he winks at you with a smirk before licking his lips, positioning one hand at the nape of your neck and kissing you so roughly that you have to grip onto the edge of the table in front of you to avoid falling down on your back (though you know for a fact that Ace would never let you get hurt), your boyfriend’s mouth swallowing the embarrassing yelp you had let out. When he had eventually pulled away - since, apparently, oxygen was a thing - leaving the two of you panting slightly, he gives you a smug grin, “it’s strawberry.”

“Really?” you deadpan, “after all that, you still got it wrong.”

“Huh,” he looks at you confused, “what else could it be?”

“Cherry,” you state incredulously, “how can you not figure it out? I got it because it reminds me of you.”

That smug look is back, “really, Y/N? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’ve got feelings for me.”

“Trust me,” you retort, “even I don’t know why that is. My current guess is temporary insanity.”

“Whaa-hey!”

DEUCE SPADE

Reader is shorter/around the same height as Deuce

You snap your handheld compact mirror shut once you had finished applying your lip balm, the sound of its lid clicking into place catching the attention of your boyfriend, who had been replying to a text message from his mother. The two of you were on your way back to Ramshackle after you had waited for Deuce to finish his session of track and field club when his phone alerted him that his mother was checking up on him and ‘his pretty girlfriend’ much to his embarrassment and your amusement. He looked up from his phone to glance at you.

“What’s that?” he asks as you twisted the lid of your lip balm closed.

“Lip balm,” you reply, holding it up, “Vil’s been on my case about how dry my lips are so yesterday he gave me a set of these.”

“Oh,” he looked at the little yellow stick in your hand and noticed that there weren’t any labels on it, just a bunch of really small writing in black block letters on its side, “what flavour is it?”

You give him a smile, “why don’t you take a guess?”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and before he could say anything else you had grabbed ahold of his tie and gently tugged him down before stepping up on your toes and placing your lips against his.

You can tell that he’s startled from the slight inhale he does and the way his body had tensed under your fingers, but then he immediately melts into the kiss, pressing his lips closer against yours. When you pull away, you let out a quiet laugh at the sight of his face trailing after yours, his wide cyan eyes stared at you as if he was completely entranced. A bashful rosy pink had spread across his nose and over his cheeks and ears as you beam at him.

“So,” you tease, “any ideas?”

“Um, uh,” he whispers to himself, his head tilted downwards. A contemplative look adorned his face before he looked back at yours, eyes shining with anticipation, “vanilla?”

“That’s right,” you say happily, patting his shoulder. Just as you had turned around and made a single step forwards but you felt his hand grasp your wrist and pull you back. You turned to look back at the boy next to you to see his flushed face smiling shyly at yours.

“Can,” he muttered softly, “can I have another taste, please?”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #fem reader

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joelsgreys · 20 days

Text

more hearts than mine

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

summary: Frankie promises you he’s not going anywhere.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. no physical description of reader, no mention of her age, reader has both of her parents, reader has a little sister (15 and unnamed), reader has a close relationship with her family (cannot say i am writing this from experience oop), reader is from a small, unnamed town somewhere in the midwest (state not specified), established relationship, mention of ex-boyfriend, mentions of alcohol consumption, reassurance, fluff, smutty themes towards the end but no smut.

word count: 2k

a/n: this was not planned and very spur of the moment. i think i needed a palette cleanse from writing so much joel. it’s my first time writing for frankie but i like the way it turned out. <3 i it’s 3 am, i wrote this in an hour and it is not proofread, so please excuse any errors. this is based on a song called more hearts than mine by ingrid andress.

“It’s late,” you worry. “Where could they be?”

Amused, your mother watches you anxiously pace back and forth in front of the dining room table. “My darling, can you please relax? They probably hit some traffic on their way back home from the lake. I bet you anything those two will be walking through the front door any second now,” she assures you. At that precise moment, her cell phone vibrates on the table, the loud buzzing noise garnering her attention. She picks it up and raises her eyebrows in complete surprise. “Oh. Or maybe not. Your father just texted me and said they’re stopping for a couple of drinks at the bar. He says not to wait up for them.”

Halting mid pace, you whirl around and stare at her.

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope.” She shows you the text. “See?”

“Jesus,” you mutter. Shaking your head, you drop down into the chair across from hers.

“That’s a pretty good sign. Don’t you think so, honey?”

It is because your father taking your boyfriend out on a fishing trip and then taking him to his favorite bar for drinks afterwards means that their time alone together has gone well. But, even though your father had clearly taken a liking to him, he won’t ever show it. Sure, he’ll buy him dinner and he’ll buy him drinks, he’ll check his tires and take a look underneath the hood of his pickup truck to make sure everything looks good, but he’ll do it with a scowl on his face and a standoffish attitude.

“He hates me, baby. Your old man hates me,” Frankie declared after his first dinner with your family. You had both arrived in your hometown that same evening after a gruelling, sixteen hour drive to the midwest. Despite being exhausted from the trip, he’d put his best foot forward for them—he’d charmed your mother and your little sister, had them both wrapped around his finger by the time dessert had been served. But your father, oh he had been much harder for him to win over. “He barely said two words to me all night.”

“My dad doesn’t hate you,” you swore to him, rubbing a soft, soothing circle into his broad back. “Do you want to know how I know that?”

“How?”

“Because he poured you a drink.”

He’d snorted. “What, and that means he likes me?”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” you joked with a giggle. “It’s still too early to tell if he likes you. But one thing is for sure, he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t break out a bottle of whiskey for someone he hates, Frankie.”

Sighing, you lift your legs, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Poor Frankie. He’s probably spent the better part of the whole day just trying to figure him out.

“I like him,” your mother says after a minute. “I like him a lot.”

“What a coincidence,” you grin. “I like him a lot too.”

She laughs. “I’m serious! He’s incredible, darling. He is so handsome. He’s sweet. Seems like he’s got a really good head on his shoulders—”

“Are we talking about Francisco?” Your sister walks into the dining room with can of Dr. Pepper in one hand and her cell phone in the other.

“As a matter of fact, we are.” Your mother smiles. “Isn’t he great?”

“He’s kinda perfect, actually.” She takes a casual sip of her soda and raises an eyebrow at you. “I have to admit though, I’m afraid to get attached to Frankie. You know, after what happened with Jake—”

You wince at the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name.

Your mother hisses her name, angrily.

“I’m just saying! When he broke up with you, it’s like he broke up with all of us. It sucked.” She shrugs, adding, “I mean, even dad was sad about it for months. Wasn’t he, mom?”

“Don’t you have a paper to write?” Your mother glares at her.

Your sister starts towards the staircase, but stops and glances over her shoulder. “I like Frankie,” she tells you, smiling wryly. “And I really hope he sticks around.” With that, she disappears upstairs.

Sighing heavily, your mom turns to you. “Don’t listen to her. She’s only fifteen, she doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t understand what happened—”

Pushing away from the table, you stand up.

“I’m going to take a walk,” you murmur. “I need some fresh air.”

“Hermosa?”

You stir at the sound of Frankie’s voice.

“Baby. Hey. Wake up.”

“Mm?” you mumble sleepily. “Frankie, what are—ow!”

You groan when he switches on the lamp on the beside table. Rolling over, you bury your face into your pillow.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, chuckling softly. The twin sized mattress squeaks, dipping as he somehow squeezes himself beside you on your childhood bed. He’s staying in the guest room down the hallway—you parents, who were incredibly old school, had insisted the two of you sleep in separate bedrooms during your stay. Draping his arm around you, he leans down and nuzzles into the side of your face. Even with your nose buried in your pillow, you pick up the scent of sunscreen mingled with beer. “Just wanted to tell you I’m back home.”

Lifting your head, you blink furiously until your blurred vision stabilizes.

“What—what time is it?”

“Eleven.” Frankie’s cheeks and nose are red, sunburned from having been out on your dad’s boat all afternoon. You’re willing to bet he’d forgotten to put the sunscreen on his face. Even though you’d warned him a hundred times not to forget.

“What?” You sit up, prompting him to do the same. “It’s eleven and you only now just got back?”

“Your old man took me to Gordon’s,” Frankie explains, referring to one of the only few bars your small town had to offer. It was the place where you would meet with your old high school friends to catch up with each other whenever you were home visiting. At some point this week, you would be sitting in a booth at that old bar with them, introducing Frankie, and squirming when they began to tell him embarrassing stories of all those crazy nights from your senior year. “We went in with plans to have a couple beers before coming home, but then we ran into some of his buddies there. He introduced me, they bought us more drinks, and we played a game of pool. Your dad whooped my ass, of course.”

“How did fishing go?”

“Great. Y’know, once he stopped looking at me like he wanted to throw me overboard.”

You let out an amused huff. “He would never.”

“I don’t know. That man is pretty hard to read.” Frankie reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “One minute we’d be talking, shooting the shit while we waited for the fish to bite, and the next he would look at me like he was seriously thinking about pushing me off his boat and into the water.” He squeezes your hand, a deep laugh rumbling through his chest. “I spent all goddamn day with him and I still can’t tell if he likes me yet or not.”

Lifting his hand, you press a tender kiss to the back of it, a sweet token of affection.

“He likes you, Frankie,” you murmur against his skin. “I know it. My whole family likes you. Except my mom—”

He stiffens. “What?”

“She loves you.”

Frankie turns to you. Despite your smile, he can see the hint of concern in your eyes. “Baby, what’s the matter?”

You hesitate.

After what your sister had said earlier that evening, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made a mistake and brought him home too soon. You and Frankie had been together for about six months now, and besides having a drawer of your things at his place for when you stayed overnight, you two hadn’t really sat down to talk about what the next step in your relationship would be—you and Frankie hadn’t discussed the possibility of a future together. Truth be told, you had never felt the need to question him about where this was heading. You’d been perfectly content in allowing things to unfold between you without putting any kind of pressure on yourself, or on him. At least, up until now, you had been content.

You’d been silly to think bringing Frankie home to meet your family wouldn’t be all that big of a deal, that it wouldn’t make you consider what came next. But you had forgotten how easily your mother falls in love, how quickly your little sister can form an attachment, and how your father, despite being rough around the edges, feels every heartache you go through as if it’s his own.

You think back to when your previous relationship went down in flames, you remember the helpless look on your father’s face whenever he would see you crying. “I never liked him,” he’d said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey over ice. But that had been a lie. He’d seen him as the son he never had. He lost something, too. Your whole family had to heal from that loss along with you.

Part of you is afraid that it could happen again.

“Amor?”

Frankie’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You glance down at your hand in his. “Frankie, the last thing I want to do is scare you off,” you start to say, a nervous edge to your tone. “Or put any kind of pressure on you to give me anything more than what you have already given me. But now that you’ve met my family, I can’t help but worry a little bit.”

He frowns. “What are you worried about?”

Sighing, you confess, “My last relationship—it didn’t end very well, Frankie. My family loved him, adored him the way I can see they’re already starting to adore you. When he broke up with me, he broke more hearts than just mine.” You force yourself to look up, and meet his gaze with a wistful smile. “I guess there’s a part of me that’s scared it’ll happen again.”

Frankie’s dark brown eyes soften. “Oh baby, there’s no need to be scared. That’s never gonna happen.”

“How can you be so sure it’ll never happen?”

“Easy, because I love you. And I know you love me.” He reaches over with his free hand and he cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing over the soft skin of your cheekbone. “I’m in this for the long haul. I wouldn’t have driven sixteen hours across the country with you to come meet your family if I wasn’t. I’m serious about you—I’m serious about us, baby.”

Frankie leans in, gently pressing his mouth to yours in a chaste, but sweet kiss.

“Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?” he mumbles against your lips.

“What do you see?”

“Mi futuro,” he tells you. “I see my future.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest. “You do?”

“I do. Believe me, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, and so is your family,” Frankie grins. “Your dad is gonna have plenty of opportunities to contemplate throwing me off his boat and into the lake.”

You giggle as he kisses you again before trailing his lips down to your neck. “Frankie,” you say his name warningly as he pushes you onto your back. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he says innocently, positioning himself on top of you. He plants his hands on either side of your head and dips his head, nipping lightly at the tender flesh over your pulse point. “How thin are these walls?”

“Francisco Morales, no, you are not fucking me in my parent’s house, not in my childhood bedroom—”

His bulge brushes against your thigh and you gasp.

“Guess I’ll head back to the guest room, then,” Frankie murmurs, feathering one last kiss onto your neck.

He starts to climb off of you and your hands shoot out, curling around fistfuls of his shirt to stop him.

“I can be quiet,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip. You take one of his hands and guide it underneath the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing to the apex of your thighs. “Can you?”

“Hermosa,” Frankie groans, running a finger along the damp cotton of your panties. He slips it beneath the fabric, his blood rushing south when he meets your slick folds. “God, I fucking hope so, or else I’ll actually end up at the bottom of that fucking lake.”

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#fic: more hearts than mine #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #Frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales drabble #frankie morales fluff #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you

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ataraxiaspainting · 4 months

Text

Careless Whisper.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a long game of playing hard to get, Satoru finally gets you to go on a date with him. But you didn’t expect him to choose a farmer’s market of all places for it to happen.

Warnings: Yandere themes, threats of kidnapping, manipulation, and stalking.

Continuation of There is an Uproar.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd

Get Up by NewJeans

Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

Bathroom by Montell Fish

Hotel by Montell Fish

Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock)

After Hours by The Weeknd

Government Hooker by Lady Gaga

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

The Walls by Chase Atlantic

“You’re killing me; don’t you see that you’re the winner of the game?” – Benét, Killing Eve

*~*~*~*

You hold onto the basket like a lifeline.

You grasp the handle so tightly it leaves a mark on your palm and the inner parts of your fingers, and you can practically feel splinters impaling them.

They say the devil takes on many forms, and if it were said that the devil could take the form of a white-haired man with sunglasses in whatever religious texts you were given in your childhood, you would believe that without question.

The identity of whoever or whatever forced you on this little outing is not human. You know this. He can’t be. If he is, your view of humanity will decrease tenfold from where it once was.

Should you pray to all the higher powers and heavens above that he is or is not?

“Come on, let’s get moving!” They say monsters speak in either honeyed, calm, and sweet voices or grimy and croaky ones; but this one is neither. “I kinda want to pet a chicken.”

*~*~*~*

“There’s my girlie!”

You were not surprised in the slightest when Satoru pulled up to your door with a Rolls-Royce. At the sight and the called-out nickname, you even roll your eyes and cross your arms, much to the driver’s amusement. The car is adorned with lamb's wool carpets, embellished with stunning wood and milled aluminum accents, and encased in box grain leather. Only the highest quality materials for the all-high and mighty Satoru Gojo. It is the topmost privilege for a mere mortal like you to even see it.

“You ready?” As you ever will be.

“Yeah.” Your response is quick and to the point. “You still haven’t even told me where we are going for this… date.”

The smirk that appears on his face instantly gives you the impulse to slap it off. But he is stronger, and will most likely not let you, because he is the one in control and not you. So, as he beckons you closer, you close the car door behind you and sit down on the leather seat. The drive to hit him still stands for as long as you anticipated. You just look out the window and hope it goes away.

It is nice outside. Though if Satoru’s foot was not on the peddle, you would have liked it more.

It’s spring now. The grass is bright green and tall, and you could swear that you can smell it. Tiny circles of flowers are there now and then. Dandelions and daffodils mostly. You could count them if Satoru was not driving so damn fast you think he is speeding.

He put your purse and phone in the back seat because, of course, he would want no distractions to stop you from paying attention to him.

He starts talking about how nice your dress looks and how happy he is to have you as his girlfriend.

You want to puke.

It would take at least two weeks for the smell to go away. He would have to clean it up because you would refuse to. Any damage done to his ego no matter how small is a win in your book.

You could picture it now. Satoru, long plastic gloves on his hands and wearing an apron, scrubbing the expensive carpet stained with bile and looking disgusted with you. Maybe he would give up on you then.

You almost laugh at the thought but decide against it when he starts talking with a smile that does not exactly reach his eyes.

*~*~*~*

He is tailing behind you like a grim reaper.

The black turtleneck he is wearing you suppose could count as a cloak. His face is white enough to be a skull, his hair helping you see it in your mind. All the expectations he has for you could be considered a guillotine’s blade that is ready to be let loose at any moment. Maybe a scythe. Don’t lose your head. That is what you keep telling yourself as you go down the aisles of sewn aprons and freshly baked bread and chickens wandering not too far off from the butcher’s cutting board. Don’t lose your head.

So, you keep walking to not be the victim of Satoru’s wrath.

“They’re so cute!” He exclaims, bending down to get a better look at the rabbits that are trapped within the confines of the barbed fence. “I just want to take one home! It would be like having another you around!”

His cooing makes you want to stab your eardrums out with the plastic fork you were given along with a free sample of chicken pot pie.

But you can’t ignore him either, he yearns for your responses like an addict.

“I’m not a rabbit.” You roll your eyes. Satoru responds by turning his head at you and then turning it again to make a visibly confused expression. “I’m a human. Not a pet. Not something to… lock up.” As his countenance turns somber and a hint of amusement lingers, the playful aura dissipates. Your breathing hastens, and your heart races. Perhaps voicing your thoughts was an ill-advised choice. Maybe an alternate utterance would have been wiser. Any alternative, for that expression, is one you wish to never witness again.

As you struggle to catch your breath, Satoru's steady grip on your shoulder brings a faint awareness to your hyperventilation. He calls out your name repeatedly, trying to reach through the haze of tears in your eyes. However, his words offer no solace or relief.

“Come on! Of course, you are.”

Maybe you will puke after all. But not on purpose like you originally intended.

His smile feels like a stab to the chest. Everything he does feels that way.

“...What do you mean?” What exactly does he have planned for you?

How far back do they go? Days, months, years, decades?

“You’ll see. You’ll like them, I know you will.” His hand clasps over your free one like a noose. “Either when you first know them or further down the line. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter what you think. But just know I only have your best intentions at heart, okay? I can promise you that at least.”

“...Mmhmm. Let’s just… get moving.” Once again, you are off within a labyrinth of stalls.

You liked farmer’s markets during the warmer months, with your family and friends during school breaks and vacation times. Is that why he chose this place? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he also likes them. However, you cannot process the words Satoru and farmer’s market in the same sentence.

You pictured him bringing you to some nightclub and forcing you to dance under disco lights and loud music until you nearly faint from exhaustion. As much as you don’t want to admit it, maybe this is the better option.

You can’t imagine any other option. It could be worse. Those threats of his can easily become true, he could just lock you up in his penthouse and refuse to let you leave.

So, you don’t complain. You don’t want Satoru to get upset, even if you haven’t seen him that way.

“We’ll eventually move in together. Get married further down the line. Maybe have a kid or two, if we are really up to it, though I don’t mind if it is just the two of us.”

For once, you hope Satoru chooses his initial thought. You don’t want to bring any child into this hell.

“Romantic, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

His finger traces the bridge of your nose downward and the tip of it presses on its end.

“Boop!”

“Sigh…”

He does it again.

“So cute…”

“Let’s just continue.” You try so hard not to seethe. “I heard at this specific market they have good lentil soup. Focaccia too. Let’s go.”

He nods.

“Okay! We’re off!”

There is no escape, is there?

“It should be by the coffee stalls if I remember correctly.” You don’t get to finish because of course Satoru found a brand new interest to fixate on.

Aprons. Specifically, the pink lacy one that he is holding gently like a baby. “[First]! Look! You should wear it. It suits you!”

You shake your head immediately. To this, Satoru frowns. You’re hungry after being hauled around from stall to stall for the past hour or so. Can’t he understand that?

He holds the apron up closer to your face.

You turn away from it. Satoru only puts it closer. He really can be stubborn. That is what got you in this situation in the first place. As stubborn as you sometimes are, you can hardly compare to him. But that is with most things.

Money, power, influence, he will always have more than you will, won’t he? Damn it. No escape. Not from him.

Not from him.

But you can try, can’t you? You can at least try. “Come on! It would look so cute on you.” You shake your head. His frown only deepens and he sighs.

Then he shoots you a look again. The look demanding of you to be good or else. The look that gets you to obey him every time he uses it. Every time he puts his foot down.

Don’t lose your head.

Evade the blade.

“Good,” He says, handing you the apron with the smile you unsurprisingly prefer over the hellish expression he just showed you. “Go.”

You do.

Damn it. As long as Satoru keeps toying with you, you won’t ever be able to find peace. No escape. Damn it.

You slip the apron on as he watches, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

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luvring · 7 months

Text

3:08 PM

gojo x gn!reader | he’s NOT on the battlefield he is somewhere being whiny and dramatic RIGHT NOW. no one can tell me otherwise.

gojo stares at you from his spot on the couch, a pout etched on his face as you continue to type away at an assignment due in more than a week. something due 10 whole days away has taken priority over him—he pouts even harder at the thought.

“i can feel you staring at me, satoru.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“mhm.”

there’s only a few minutes of silence when your phone suddenly vibrates. without sparing it a glance, you switch between tabs, trying to find a specific quote for your answer. satoru huffs from behind you, and another notification comes in.

“y’gonna check that?”

“check what?”

your phone vibrates again.

“that.”

and you’re not dumb. you have a feeling your boyfriend is very aware, probably even more aware than you about what that notification could be.

“no?”

it vibrates again.

“are you sure?”

another.

“pretty sure.”

and after a couple of seconds, another.

“…actually, you know what, ‘toru,”—you pick up your phone, and satoru sits up ever so slightly, before you swipe down the bar to turn on do not disturb—“you’re right.”

“babe,” he drags out the pet name, “what if it was important?”

“and what if it was my classmates being idiots in the group chat again?”

“it’s not!”

at his denial, you spin your chair around, an accusatory—yet amused—expression on your face. “and how would you know?”

“because no one else is working on an assignment due in more than a week on a saturday afternoon except you, because apparently i’m dating the biggest nerd ever,” satoru complains, letting himself slide half off the couch, leg thrown over the top.

putting your hand over your chest, you gasp. “the biggest nerd ever? you wound me.”

“you wounded me first when you downloaded that assignment pdf instead of checking my texts!”

“well now i’m never opening that text from you.”

“why no—” he stops, and you stare, and he squints and quietly replies, “…i hate you.”

a lie through and through that finally gets you to laugh, just a little, before picking up your phone, where a photo of the both of you greets you as your lockscreen. “i’m kidding, ‘toru. but seriously if it’s something stupid i’m going to the library.”

“nothing i send you is ever stupid.”

you shake your head and go to open your messages. “i’m not even going to try to argue with you on that.”

GOJO sent you a post

babe

ME!

Notification noise

buzz buzz buzz buzzzzzzzzzz

EMERGENCY!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

your lip twitches when you read “notification noise” but you hide it with the back of your hand, instead clicking the video he sent.

you think maybe it won’t be that bad—the thumbnail a photo of a white cat—and satoru watches you intently when he hears the audio start to play. ”top ten things you should pay more attention to. starting with number one—me.”

you blink.

the video loops.

“top ten things you should…”

“seriously, toru?”

“c’s get degrees. satorus need constant attention or they’ll die.”

you snort—maybe you’d take him more seriously if he wasn’t practically upside down.

“they’ll die! i’ll die! do you want me to die?”

“not on my couch, no.” you respond, standing up.

“oh, alright, apologies, my heart, for not taking your feelings into consideration. i’ll die on your laptop so you’re forced to face the consequences of your actions more directly then,” he says, sarcasm rolling off of him in waves, even as you make your way toward him.

“oh, thank you so much, my love, i’d greatly appreciate it.” you huff as you do your best to pull him back up to lie on the couch.

satoru lies on his back, arms crossed over chest, strands of hair messy across his forehead.

he says nothing as you stand above him.

yet despite his attitude, he lets you run your fingers through his hair to fix it, leaning in ever so slightly into the warmth of your palm. you pout at him endearingly. “okay, you’re right, i can work on the assignment later. i’m sorry for not giving you attention and ignoring your texts.”

“and?”

you quirk an eyebrow, trying to rack your brain for what else you could have done. “and…implying you could ever send me something stupid?”

“…apology accepted.”

“can i lie down with you now?”

satoru shifts as far as he can. “as long as my back is to the couch so you can’t push me off.”

“woah, woah, woah, okay, that was an actual accident, and you already accepted my apology for that! i even ordered food,” you remind him, maneuvering beside him so you can fit and wrap your arms around his torso.

he pulls your head to rest on his chest. “doesn’t mean i can’t stay on guard from now on.”

“oh, whatever,” you mumble, breathing in and noting the scent of his new cologne that he got a few days ago—the one he got because you said you liked it.

a hand comes up to rub the nape of your neck, and you melt further into him. satoru mutters, ”you’re not leaving until dinner now as compensation.”

“what if i have to pee?”

“i’ll follow you to the washroom.”

“inside?”

“you wanna hold hands at the doorway?”

“not particularly, no, actually.”

“maybe romance really is dead.”

you laugh into the fabric of shirt where you can feel his chest rumble with his own laughter, and your heart flutters as you feel satoru smile against you. he's warm, and his lips soft as they kiss your forehead, when you think maybe your work can wait a few days to really start.

hai. sometimes a girl has to write a bunch of domestic fluffy banter. who gets me. video cat is gojo catoru in another life btw... Trust. also im pretty sure this is the first time i get to use my jjk taglist. LMFAO

🏷 | @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x gn!reader

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calysimps · 9 months

Text

•Content warnings: none that I can think of (warn me if there is)

•Summary: Jason finds you wearing his clothes

Soooo I came across this Jason bot and I had to write a little something 🤭 (link at the end)

• SUGGESTIVE CONTENT MINORS DNI!!! •

Jason had been away on a mission for a few days. You were sitting alone at home, bored. He was supposed to come back later that day so you decided to kill two birds with one stone and get rid of your boredom by preparing a surprise for your boyfriend.

You got out of bed, walked towards your shared closet and picked up one of Jason's helmets, one of his leather jacket and his favourite set of lingerie of yours.

After putting it all on you stood in front of your bedroom mirror, taking the ensamble in and thinking about how to pose for the "I miss you" text you were planning on sending.

You were too busy lost in your thoughts, posing for your phone so you didn't hear your front door opening and Jason coming into the apartment. He walked towards your bedroom to greet you but stopped in his tracks at the door and looked at you for a few moments before speaking up "What's the special occasion?"

You got slightly startled but quickly threw your phone on the bed and went to give him a welcome hug.

He hugged you back and asked again "What's up with the outfit, hon?"

"I wanted to give you a surprise"

"You did" He said, moving his hands down to grab your waist "Now can you take that helmet off? I want to kiss my girlfriend properly"

You obliged and took it off and placed it carefully on a nearby shelf. You took his face in your hands and kissed him softly. He deepened the kiss, moving his hands up and down your torso, going to your ass and back to your waist. His mouth travelled from your lips to your neck and then your collarbones. He kept going lower until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you, leaving kisses on your stomach and over your panties while muttering praises "You're wearing my favourite.." "Got all pretty for me" "I missed you so much, love"

Needless to say his clothes didn't last long on either of your bodies

I don't know what's with me and leaving things half written 🤩

#jason todd x reader #Jason Todd x reader smut #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #redhood x reader #red hood x reader smut #redhood x reader smut #red hood smut #redhood smut

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slttygeto · 8 months

Text

MY PUNISHMENT, AN ETERNITY WITHOUT YOU--GETO. S

synopsis: you were never there for suguru, and he isn't scared of saying it to you.

c.w: gn! reader, angst, hurt/no comfort, reader is a terrible friend, insinuations on suguru and reader possibly liking each other, suguru feels terribly left out, confronation, there is a dialogue here from an old movie so that's where the inspiration came from!

word count: 1,1k

note: very quick drabble before I head to bed. sorry for choosing violence so late at night.

Everything happens for a reason. What a lame way to comfort yourself through the horrifying realization that you’ve been betrayed by one of the closest people to your heart. You stand in front of Yaga and Satoru with a broken heart and a body that is so cold you could be mistaken for a corpse and you breathe in—you try to inhale through what you’ve been told.

“Suguru killed those people, he also killed his parents and—“

Enough. You’ve heard more than enough for today. You squeeze your eyes shut and your hands find your face, covering it whole. You’re not sure what the gesture is supposed to do, you believe that you simply did not want to see the people that have delivered those news for you and it’s a little unfair to them. But then again, if they hadn’t known how poorly you’d handle it, why’d they look so apologetic when they asked you to wait for them outside of the classroom? They knew how you’d feel and they still went through with it.

You don’t realize that a week had passed since the incident with Suguru until you’re receiving a text Shoko and Satoru telling you about his whereabouts, and you don’t think you’ve ever ran so fast in your life just to see a person—to see him, for what felt like it was going to be the last time in a while.

Suguru stands in front of a flower shop owned by an elderly couple and his face seems to be empty of any emotion as he stares at the many flowers displayed by the old woman tending to her plants. Yet his eyes seem to be fixated on a specific flower—a bouquet of pink Cyclamens that looked as though it was freshly picked and put together, placed neatly on the tiny green table outside of the shop. His hand reaches down towards it and traces the pink wrapping paper with the same fingers that once held your chin as he tended to your wounds after missions.

“Suguru,” you sound out of breath, your hands are trembling and you feel as though you’re about to faint very soon. “What are you doing?” A part of you hopes that Suguru comes up with a good answer, something that justifies what he’s done, what he is about to do now that he has the entire Jujutsu society turning against him. You want answers, you want to be comforted by this abrupt and sudden decision of his. But when he stands there silently, doesn’t even bother to look up from the bouquet he seemingly bought prior to your arrival, your heart sinks. So, you ask again.

“Sugu-“ your throat closes up and you can’t muster up the courage to pronounce his name properly. “Answer me.”

“What do you think I’m doing, hm?” the nonchalance in his voice feels like a dozen of needles poking through your skin, each one injecting you with a different poison and only Suguru’s warmth can heal you.

“You lied to me, you deceived me.” You say quietly and when you hear his chuckle—the first sign of emotion in very long, your heart sinks to your stomach. Why does he find this amusing? It shouldn’t be funny, you were seriously suffering and he was being so… different.

“I’ve deceived you?” he finally looks up and it’s so difficult not to run away and hide when he was eyeing you so dangerously, daring you to repeat what you have just said.

“You’ve deceived me,” he continues and approaches you with the bouquet in hand.

“I am tired of trying to listen to you—“

“You have never listened, you never tried to listen,” he presses on every word and his looming figure towers over you with so much ease. You cower under his gaze, try to stutter a few words out and the confusion evident on your face irks Suguru even more.

“I did try to listen! What are you-“

“Then where were you when I needed you?” he tilts his head to the side, and the action is mocking as he lets out a pensive hum. “On missions… with Satoru… out with Shoko smoking—that’s right, I stopped being fun to hang out with, didn’t I?”

“You stopped needing me because I stopped being useful.” He spits it out like venom and your blood runs cold. You try to blink the tears coating your lashes and back away from him.

“That is not true,” the whimper that escapes your lips is pathetic, but it does nothing to the tall man standing in front of you.

“Then where were you when I needed you?” he asks again, and he knows that you don’t have an answer—or it was simply clear that Suguru wasn’t worth the additional baggage on your shoulders. You never wanted to be there for him as simple as that. Your friendship with him was only fun when he was the sweet, soft and flirty Suguru. Hanging out with him was only fun because he paid for the food and pushed you on the swing, it stopped being fun when his thoughts got darker and it was harder for him to smile when you apologized for the umpteenth time because you forgot to check on him.

Suguru simply had enough.

“You gave me your heart, you know?” The taller male suddenly speaks up after a minute of awkward and painful silence and your head shoots up. “You’d like me to hand it back whole, but I won’t.” He takes a step closer and strangely, you don’t flinch nor move away.

“You live a long life, an eternity without me. You will look at the faces of passersby hoping for something that will bring me back to you, you will find stargazing on the rooftop and summer nights strangely empty—your heart will long for something, anything that would make calling out for my name worth it and would somehow bring me back.” Suguru is seemingly calm through it all, like the sight of the fat tears cascading your cheeks doesn’t move him and for the first time ever—it truly doesn’t reach his heart, and doesn’t try to pull at its strings.

“Your heart will always ache for me, and your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that this—“ he points at the both of you, referring to you confronting him. “Was the brave thing to do.”

And through gritted teeth, you manage to find your voice again.

“You dare talk about bravery?”

“What else do we have to talk about, hm?”

—in case anyone needed to know, “Cyclamen flowers can also represent love, affection, and admiration. They are sometimes used to display affection and romantic feelings towards someone.”

do with that whatever you want.

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #geto x reader #geto angst #jjk angst #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen geto #jjk getou #suguru geto #geto x y/n #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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pitchsidestories · 3 months

Text

A kiss from my enemy II Erin Cuthbert x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2811

A/N: Would you like us to write more about Chelsea's Fab 4?

A day before the CL game Chelsea against Real Madrid Erin Cuthbert found herself among her friends, drinking coffee in Sam Kerr and Kristie Mewis new home. It was a quite cozy afternoon despite the Blues knowing there was a big match ahead of them at Stamford Bridge.

Expectantly the American midfielder sipped from her cup of coffee before looking at the Scottish woman: So, it’s true what they say, Erin? That you forget she’s your girlfriend when you two play against each other?”

“Doesn’t everyone do that?”, Erin laughed it off. Next to her sat Guro Reiten who nodded grinning: “Yeah Magda definitely said that too.” “That’s not true for Sam and me.”, Kristie announced.

Amused Millie Bright replied:” Of course not.” “I still see her as my fiancée.”, the Westham player added beaming proudly. Smiling Erin realized: “And I’ll see her as my girlfriend before and after the game. Shit, I think she heard that we are talking about her, she’s trying to face time me right now.”

“Take the call!”, Sam advised the younger woman. Enthusiastic Millie agreed:” Yeah, let’s all say hi.” “Oh yes, hello chica!”, Guro greeted her first.

Blushing you put a loose string of your hair behind your hair:” Hola! Erin, you didn’t text me you were still with your friends otherwise I’d have tried to call you later.” “Sorry, drinking coffee with them always takes a bit longer.”, your girlfriend apologized with a sheepishly smile.

Quickly you reassured her:” That’s okay.” You paused for a moment before you turned your attention to her recently injured teammate:” How are you, Sammy?”

“I’m good. I got my girls.”, Sam waved it off, placing a hand on her fiancée’s thigh. The latter one asked curiously:” Tell me where did you get that lipstick? It’s so pretty!” “Kristie.”, Erin rolled her eyes, visibly annoyed. Innocently Kristie told her:”What?”

“I’ll send you a screenshot with it, Kristie. But back to you captain Cuthbert.”, you cleared your throat and turned the attention to your girlfriend. She furrowed her eyebrows in response:” Captain Cuthbert?” “I read you’ll captain Chelsea tomorrow.”, you snorted.

A teasing smile played on the Scottish international lips: “Oh, you read that?” “This is going to be spice, the girlfriend’s being the captain of each of their respectable teams, I can’t wait for it.”, Sam exclaimed.

Immediately Erin tried to cool off the striker’s excitement for the roles you were about to play tomorrow: “It’s not that big of a deal, Sam.” “Honestly.”, you underlined her message with your word. Not convinced by your reaction Sam said:” Uh huh sure.”

“The press and the fans will make a big deal out of it.“, Kristie agreed with her fiancée. Sam shrugged; “It is a big thing.“ “We’ll see but I can’t wait to see you all tomorrow.“, you subtly tried to change the topic. “Oh, we can wait.“, Sam grinned back at you. Erin shook her head; “No, I can’t. Because some of us don’t have their girlfriends living in the same city.“

She gave Sam and Kristie a jokingly accusing look. “You’re the only one she’ll get to see tomorrow anyway. And Guro. The rest of us is injured.“, Sam commented, pointing down to her knee brace. Millies who was also out with an injury announced; “But we’ll be there at the Bridge and say hi.“ “Maybe.“, the Australian added with a smirk.

Millie rolled her eyes at her teammate; “Ignore Sammy.“ “Okay, enjoy your coffee, guys. See you tomorrow.“, you waved into the camera. “See you.“, Erin answered before ending the call. Excitedly, Kristie looked at Erin; “I’ll be there tomorrow for the gay drama.“

“If West Ham doesn’t train at the same time.“, Sam reminded her. “Right.“ “But we’ll be there.“, Millie interjected. “Anyone any more coffee?“, the injured striker asked. Erin shared a smile with her friends and answered; “Absolutely.“

Champions League nights always felt even more special than normal league games. The stadium was starting to fill while both teams finished their warm-up routines. Guro was the first Chelsea player to pull you into a quick hug; “Hi.“ “Hi. Ready for the game?“, the Norwegian asked. You nodded; “Yes, I’m ready. What about you?“

She rubbed her hands with excitement; “Ready to smash Madrid.“ Unimpressed, you replied; “Oh, we will give you a good fight.“ “Like you guys did against Barcelona?“, Erins teasing voice appeared out of nowhere, immediately wiping the smile off your face. You could hear the annoyance in your own voice as you answered; “Oh shut up. You’d lose against Barcelona too.“

“But at least we managed to draw against them. Something your team hasn’t managed.“, Erin countered. “But Chelsea lost the CL final in 2021. Barca won 4:0.“, you reminded her cooly.

Your girlfriend tilted her head; “And how far did Madrid make it?“ You knew she was trying to play some mind games and that you shouldn’t react to it but you couldn’t stop yourself from snapping; “What’s your fucking problem, Cuthbert?“

She reacted with a casual shrug; “I’m just saying it as it is. You’re already out of the CL. Again.“ “Whatever you’re trying to do, this won’t work.“, you warned her before your team mate caught your attention; “Hayley?“ “Yes, we need to get in line. The game is about to start.“, Hayley Raso reminded you while adjusting the bow in her hair.

Turning into your captain mode you put your armband on:“I’m coming.” While the CL hymn was playing the Australian forward noticed:” Did you lost your hairband?” Quickly Hayley gave you the extra hairband she had around her wrist. You mouthed a sincere thank you.

This didn’t got unnoticed by Erin who softly elbowed her Norwegian friend:” Have you seen that, Guro?” “What?”, Guro asked confused, she clearly missed the moment her teammate was referring to. Biting her lip the Scottish midfielder answered:” Doesn’t matter, let’s win this game.” “Alright.”, Guro sighed before they went to their starting positions.

The first half begun, and you were eager to prove that you’d give the team of your girlfriend a good fight. Your confidence grew as you fairly tackled Erin to get the ball. Enraged the Scottish player stood up, cursing quietly so only you could hear her words tripping with fury:” What the fuck was that?” “Next time you got to be faster.”, you replied with a smug smile on your face.

Under her breath she told you:” Learn to play football next time. That was a foul.” “It wasn’t.”, you shook your head. Immediately Erin disagreed: “Of course it was.” The tension between you was almost touchable. Later your girlfriend knocked you off your feet. “Hey!”, you protested loudly.

Quickly Athenea del Castillo was at your side, shouting:” That was a foul.” “If that earlier wasn’t a foul, this isn’t either.”, the Scottish midfielder snapped. Slowly you got up, promising her:” You’ll get that back.” And you held your promise only a couple of minutes later you assisted Athenea in scoring the equalizer for Madrid.

But you couldn’t enjoy the celebration with your team as Erin whispered into your ear:” You think you’re so good, huh? You’re still losing.” She was right only a minute after Madrid scored, they did again but this time it was only an own goal, resulting in a 2:1 for the Blues.

“Yes!”, Niamh Charles cheered. Triumphantly Erin turned her head to you:” Told you, you’d lose.” “Get over yourself, Cuthbert.”, you rolled your eyes at her. Her following comment made your heart race even faster: “Don’t be such a sore loser.” “We still have twenty plus minutes left.”, you reminded her. Confidently she remarked:” That’s not enough time for you.”

Her words proofed to be right. From a reasonable point of view, you knew that a win wouldn’t have changed the fact that you couldn’t qualify for the next round, the loss still stung. Numbly you could hear Guro happily scream:” We’re qualified, girls!” “Don’t you want to go over to your girlfriend?”, cautiously Hayley padded your shoulder. Stubbornly you mumbled: “No.”

Confused the Australian player furrowed her eyebrows:” Why not?” “I’m too mad at her right now.”, you replied honestly. The eyes of your teammate turned soft:” We were out anyway.” “I know.”, you sighed deeply.

Smiling Hayley tried to cheer you up:” And we did give them a tough time.” “That’s true. Sorry, I’m not being a good captain, I should comfort you and not the other way around.”, you apologized. Warmly the forward reminded you:” Sometimes even the captain needs to be comforted.”

At the same time Erin said to her teammates:” I’m back in a second.” “Don’t go away for too long!”, Niamh shouted after her grinning. The Chelsea captain of the night shook her head:” I won’t.” “Good!”, Ashley exclaimed cheerfully.

Laughing the Scottish midfielder told them:” You can start celebrating without me.” With these words she turned to you, her kiss caught you off card, as you mumbled:” Good game, Erin.” “Sorry for what I said during the game. You know I don’t mean it.”, your girlfriend whispered into your embrace, her cheeks flushed.

Startled you looked at her:” You don’t?” “Of course I don’t.”, she answered. Confidently you glanced at her:” But I was right, we didn’t make it easy for you.” “Yeah, you were.”, the Chelsea player admitted.

A cheeky smile appeared on your lips:” If you kiss me again, I might forgive you.” “Okay, but then I got to leave.”, Erin nodded giving you a more passionate kiss than before. “Alright.”

For a second she rested her forehead against yours: ”Come over to our dressing room when you took care of your teammates.” “I’ll be there.”, you promised her before you went to look after your teammates being back into your captain mode.

“Linda, how are you feeling?”, you asked her compassionate. The Columbian forward responded with a weak smile:” I’m okay.” “Good.”, relief ran through your veins because of the answer of the younger footballer.

Comforting hands padded your shoulder who belonged to Ivana: “Not an easy game.” “Right.”, you had to admit. Reassuringly the older woman continued:” But we’ll continue to grow.” “We’ll.”, you agreed. The defender offered:”You can go over if you want to.” “You girls will be, okay?”, you wanted to know from her. With a motherly smile Ivana waved you off:”Promise.”

You met your girlfriend in her locker room, freshly showered, her blonde hair still wet. “Hi Erin.”, you greeted her. Blushing the Scottish player put a hair string behind her ear:“Hi.” “Was that me?”, guiltily you pointed to a black eye on her body. She gave you a challenging look:” Told you, it was unfair play.” “You weren’t playing nice either!”, you reminded her. Pouting Erin observed:” You don’t look as bad.”

“Well, I got thicker skin.“, you shrugged with a smirk. Your girlfriend quickly bridged the gap between you two and pulled you towards her. Her fingertips on your skin made you giggle; “Hey, no tickles!“

“You’re lucky it’s only tickles.“, Erin countered. Guro interrupted the two of you by throwing her shirt at you; “Behave, we have children in this room!“ You were suddenly painfully aware of the stares of Erins teammates.

Erin grimaced at Guro; “Do you mean Hannah?“ The young goalkeeper looked up in surprise; “Rude!“ “Sorry.“, Erin grinned back, obviously not even a little bit sorry. “I’m not a child!“, Hannah protested. Your girlfriend casually shrugged and pointed into the direction of her other teammates: “Maybe Guro meant Sjoeke or Aggie.“

These two protested loudly while Hannah raised her eyebrow at Erin; “I hope so!“ Ignoring the rest of her team, Erin turned back towards you; “Want to leave?“ “Please.“, you smiled back.

She quickly grabbed her bag and took your hand; “Let’s go.“ “Bye chicas!“, Guro yelled after you. Millie appeared in the door, Sam on crutches next to her; “You’re leaving already?“ “Not without a hug from you of course!“, you said and let yourself fall into the arms of the tall defender.

“Sorry, took a while to get Sam down the stairs.“, Millie apologized. The Australian striker rolled her eyes. You quickly hugged her too, careful with her knee and crutches; “And hello, Sam.“

“You two were not subtle at all after the game ended.“, she commented smugly. Erin and you shared a knowing smile while she explained; “I had to make up for something.“ “Yeah, for the things you said to each other during the match.“, Millie grinned. “Oh shut up, Millie.“

But the defenders smile only got wider; “Never.“ “How would you even know that?“, Erin asked, a slight hint of exasperation in her voice. Millie touched her fingertips to her mouth; “Lip reading.“

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes in response; “Oh, sure.“ “Now go, you two don’t have much time.“, Millie ordered, making space so you two could pass her and Sam. “You kept us here.“, Erin protested.

She took your hand in hers again; “Let’s leave.“ “Coming.“ As you moved past your friend group, your girlfriend yelled “Bye, girls!“ over her shoulder. “Bye, have fun.“, Sam replied with a smirk while Kristie appeared behind her, wrapping her arms around the strikers waist as they watched you leave; “And off they go.“

“About time. After game sex is the hottest.“, the striker laughed, turning to kiss her girlfriend. Kristie nodded; “Agreed. They wouldn’t let each other get away with anything.“ “That’s too much information!“, Millie complained, pretending that she needs to throw up.

“Sorry, not sorry.“, Kristie shrugged. “I hate that you moved here.“, the defender laughed. With big innocent eyes, Kristie suggested; “Maybe she’ll move to London to next season.“ Seeing the feigned disgust on Millies face, she added; “A girl can dream.“ “Of bringing all your girlfriends here?“

“Yes.”, the American midfielder beamed. The England defender wiggled with her eyebrows: “I see.” “She’s unstoppable.”, Sam winked at her fiancée. Big eyed Millie looked at her close friend: “Will I have to leave?”

“No, you’re the honorary straight best friend in our squad. Let’s get Same home for no.”, Kristie told her in a friendly tone. Happy with that answer the English player clapped into her hands:” Alright. Come on, Sammy.” “On my way!”, the Australian forward announced while one of her best friends and her fiancée helped her to come home safely.

Meanwhile you had stepped out of Erins shower, wearing some comfy clothes, begging your girlfriend:” Erin, repeat that.” “What?”, she echoed. Serious you added:” What you just said.”

“Pretty sure you heard me the first time. ”, the Scottish woman answered. You bit your lip in response: “Still.” “Well, we can just ignore it if it upsets you so much.”, the midfielder shrugged her shoulders.

Swiftly you shook your head:” No, please, say it again.” “I want you to move in with me.”, Erin repeated. Carefully you said:” English clubs are interested in me you know that, right?” “I do.”, your girlfriend affirmed.

Slowly you revealed what you were holding black from her for quite a while now, waiting for the perfect moment to say it:” I might have an agreement with a club in the summer.” “You do?”, the Scottish player looked surprised up. “Yes.” “So that’s a, yes?”, a hopeful shimmer appeared on her face.

Teasingly you played with her hair: “It’s a yes. I’d love to move in with you. But I won’t join your club.” “That’s okay. I love playing against you.”, Erin grinned at you. A warm laugh escaped your lips:” I knew you’d say that.” “It’s true.”, she confessed.

The smile on your face grew bigger:” Sorry but I like red more than blue.” “Arsenal!”, playfully shocked your girlfriend hit your upper arm. “Yes, bebé.” Dramatically the midfielder groaned:” Oh that’s just horrible.” “So, you take the moving offer back?”, you threw your eyebrows up.

Much softer she told you:“No, I can live with it if I get to see you more often.” “You definitely would.”, you reassured her. Beaming Erin replied: “Then you should take that offer.” “I’ll.”

“Can’t wait to win the London derby against you.”, the excitement was written all over her face. Confidently you countered:” Oh no Arsenal win their fair amounts of derbys do I have to remind you they just won the latest?”

“Doesn’t count. You weren’t on the team yet.“, Erin protested. You shrugged nonchalantly; “Just saying.“ “Next time we’ll win again.“, your girlfriend said, half challenge and half promise.

Smirking, you added; “Or you’ll lose.“ Stubbornly, Erin shook her head; “There’s no way.“ “But for now…“, you changed the topic, pulling your girlfriend close to you. “For now?“, she repeated so that you would continue.

“Enough talking.“ “What should we do then?“, she asked, all pretended innocence. You winked at her while you let your hands glide under her shirt; “Something equally as fun.“

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