#Clean is a song Will thinks he can sing now that he doesn't have his heart anymore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

personasintro · 7 months

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Mutual Help | #51

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

Never in a million years would you think you and Jungkook will go to work together. To the same workplace as if you were colleagues. In some way, you kind of are colleagues at the moment, even though you won't be exactly working together.

It definitely has some perks.

For example – you don't have to drive since Jungkook suggested you should go together in one car which makes sense and it is something you were planning to offer anyway. Jungkook's car is more comfortable of course, how can it not be for the money he spent on it, right?

You enjoy the freedom of not having to drive through busy Seoul to get to work. However, you still offer to drive once you see Jungkook yawning as soon as he sits down on the driver seat.

He even has the audacity to snort at your offer. "You driving my car? Nah, I'll pass."

You do feel offended, though you would never purposely try to drive his expensive ass car – too scared to get into an accident or scratch the perfect shiny exterior.

"Asshole," you grumble, "Didn't you offer your car when I got into the accident?" you point out, noticing Jungkook's grin which slightly falters at the mention of your accident. You know he's just teasing you, despite his morning tired state.

"It was a matter of life and death," he remarks, causing you to flick him off. "Sorry, angel. Hate to break it to you but you're not that good of a driver."

Angel... that's new. Even if it's his way of teasing you again, you can't help but feel the little fluttering in the pit of your stomach. It doesn't help that Jungkook has cleaned and dressed up nicely. His outfit is quite simple but knocked the breath out of you as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, fully ready despite his tired puffy eyes. White button-up with black casual slacks – a total threat to your sanity.

"I am a good driver!" you argue.

Okay, maybe you're not a complete Michael Knight when it comes to driving but you're pretty decent. It took you a while to improve but experience helped a lot.

"You can't compare me to you!"

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing you." Jungkook adds teasingly, met with your annoyed huff as your back meets the car seat frustratedly.

For the rest of the drive, Jungkook takes it as his mission to make you laugh and he blasts old Justin Bieber songs, dramatically singing as you try to keep your laugh at bay.

"You're who I'm thinking of, girl you ain't my runner-up,"

He quickly shoots you a playful wink as you roll your eyes, nudging gently his shoulder as he keeps his eyes on the road.

"Just shut up and drive."

"Oh, that's a good song!"

"Oh god..." you mutter, staring from the window as your facade finally cracks.

Though as Jungkook glances at you, he sees your grin in the reflection and he knows his job is done.

Junho snatches Jungkook from you as soon as the elevator door opens, his nervous figure pacing around the place. His usual self nervous and on the edge now seems to be under control and you think it has something to do with Jungkook. Only because once he spots you and Jungkook, his eyes widening slightly before a welcoming smile stretches on his thin lips as he gives your friend a warm welcome. Not just you, but half of the staff witnessing this moment just gape at him.

Junho likes to kiss ass to everyone who works above him, especially any partners but you would never expect him to be so warm towards a photographer. It only proves he really loves Jungkook's work and is more than happy to have him on this project. So much, that he trusted Jungkook's offer of involving someone whose work he hasn't seen at all. Which reminds you Ester should be here soon, so she and Jungkook can get to work.

You assume once Junho is done kissing Jungkook's ass, he is leading him to the studio where they should go over the work once again before the models are prepared to have photoshoots.

There are many people, strangers who work for other companies, most of them make-up artists, agents. You've been here for three minutes and it's already looking hectic.

"Well, fuck me."

Turning sideways, you spot Yoongi glancing at retrieving figures of your boss and your best friend, similarly looking taken aback.

"Yeah, I know." you mutter, seeing him holding a stack of papers, wearing a gray suit.

"Asshole, we work for him for years and do most of the job and he never treats us like that."

You snort, not surprised by Yoongi's annoyance and irritation showing because in a way, you understand him. Junho can be very hard on all of you and he doesn't exactly treat you friendly, but he's not a bad boss. You're sure there are far worse bosses out there than just a simple man who's too greedy and ambitious for his own good.

"Shh, somebody is going to hear you." you scold him, mouth opening as soon as he thrusts the papers into your arms causing you to almost drop them. You glare at him but he's not even looking at you, sighing as Junho's figure disappears before he glances back at you.

"Like I give a fuck. Junho needs me, he's not gonna do a shit."

"You're too confident. Junho might need all of us," Yoongi rolls his eyes, "But he's got a temper."

"It would be his loss."

He's right about that but you don't tell him that.

"Why did you give me these papers?"

"Wake up, sunshine. You're at your work right now, chop chop."

And he simply walks away with no looking back which leaves your mouth hanging open, and you choke on the fit of curses that want to leave your mouth but you already hear your name being called, one of your colleagues rushing to you as they need your help.

Great. You haven't even got the chance to put your bag away. Fucking Min Yoongi and fucking Mondays.

Ester arrives a few minutes after Jungkook. He had to laugh at her petrified face when he politely excused himself to Junho, so he can help her get into the building since she doesn't know her way. It's enough she has to be nervous which only confirms once Junho so eagerly excuses him, leaving a few coworkers that are around completely speechless.

"Am I late? You said eight, right?" she asks him as soon as Jungkook holds the door for her to come in, chuckling at her anxious state.

"No, you're good and I did. I came a little early," he assures her and sees the sigh of relief she lets out, "Besides everything is just getting ready, well the final preparations but Junho, the boss I was talking you about," he says, momentarily stopping to make a space for people leaving the elevator before they both make their way in.

He pushes the button, turning to her as he gives her a comforting smile which she tries to return.

"He is gonna go over the things again with us and then we should get to work. We have a long day ahead of us."

She nods, not giving any sort of other reaction – her nerves getting the best of her.

Meanwhile you spot Ester and Jungkook coming in, getting to work right after – you're already swallowed by your own responsibilities and not having time for anything else.

Despite the day's business, it feels as if it's dragging painfully slowly. You don't get to see Jungkook in action, somehow he's always just a blur in the background and you're not phased even in the slightest when you catch a glimpse of him, doing a great work with models. He's a true leader, involved just as much as he can be as he naturally communicates with the models and Ester on the side, who seems to be in her natural habitat.

You don't know any other photographer besides your best friend but seeing how two of them work well together, both of them understanding each other right away makes you think they have a lot in common when it comes to photography. They joke a little, Jungkook helps her with her camera once it seems as if there's a little problem in the setting as he sorts it out for her – all of this you experience in a span of five minutes watching from the distance, some of your coworkers beside you as you wait for the shoot to end. Well, a part of the shoot anyway.

"He's doing a great job, isn't he?"

You almost flinch at the sudden presence of another body next to you, looking at Benjamin who hands you a cup of coffee. You see Lauren holding one of those as well, shooting him a last appreciative smile before she focuses on the tablet in her hands.

"Thank you,"

You thank him, not having the heart to decline his attentive gesture. You don't like to get through the day drinking coffee, it bites you back in the night as it follows with the hassle of not being able to fall asleep. But it's soon lunchtime and you haven't had the time to just sit down, even if it's for five minutes so you gladly take the cup from the coffee machine and take a cautious sip.

"You're like the fifth person who told that in a span of ten minutes." you chuckle causing him to do the same as he lightly shrugs.

"It's true, I had to be there for a few minutes and seriously, he's amazing. You must be proud of him."

There's nothing but sweetness and tenderness in his raspy voice and soft expression and you have to look away to try and shoo away the approaching guilt, still feeling like an idiot for lying to him. To be fair, he hasn't tried anything since then but still remained sweet and friendly. Jungkook is not your real boyfriend but he doesn't know that and ever since he heard the revelation, it's obvious he backed away. You're glad he's still the sweet guy you met – unfortunately, it makes it even worse for your guilt and the little white lie.

"I am," you respond, cutting your thoughts off before you can feel like a total loser.

No lies need to be told, not when it comes to Jungkook's talent and you being proud of him. You remember the beginning of his photography career. He has always been doing good, but it took a lot of courage to get a freelancer career right after college, praying he will have enough clients to pay his bills. In the end, it wasn't the smoothest start but he's nifty and ambitious which helped a lot in this journey.

Despite his parents voicing out their concern for his son, not that they didn't believe in him but their concerns weren't helping him to smooth his own concerns of the future, he has managed to pull it off.

"Photography is his passion." you add softly, not really sure why you just shared that because you're not sure if Benjamin even cares but he responds with one of his charming smiles.

You continue to watch the scene happening in the distance, noticing the tall model you remember from the company's party standing now alone, exposing her skin and legs to everyone's eyes. She's not phased about it, how can she? This is her job and she's used to it, having done a good amount of photoshoots in her lifetime. You know you couldn't just stand there in a bikini, revealing the curve of your ass and most of your ass-cheeks exposed to dozens of men. Nobody in your company is disrespectful and just as she's used to the eyes, you all are used to seeing models. It doesn't matter what gender.

Her blond hair is curled into big beachy waves, breasts pushed up in the bikini bra as she professionally poses for Jungkook's camera. He chats with her throughout it, both of them trying to figure out the new positions and concepts together as they share a laugh together before returning back to work.

There are other models watching them, both female and male as the women seem equally attracted to Jungkook, despite there being male models right next to them.

All the men models are handsome, looking almost unreal even from the distance where you are standing. All of them are captivating and interesting looking in their own way, which makes them special and you know your company has done a good job at picking them up. You're not sure you've seen so many abs in your life like you're experiencing right now – even though most of them have thin robes draped over their shoulders.

Despite it all, you stare back at Jungkook and it's like no one competes with him. It's not even about him having an equally amazing body than the male models here. It's just him and for a split second you panic. You know you're attracted to him, that much is clear because you wouldn't be able to let your new deal keep going on for this long. But you're scared. So you hide your distress behind the plastic cup as you take a few sips of the coffee, letting more caffeine into your body.

"Don't do that."

Turning to Benjamin, you're met with his soft gaze once again and for a moment you think you see an amused grin spreading on his plump lips.

"Do what?"

"Well, at least I hope you're not comparing yourself to them." he says, pointing his head towards the models direction as you glance at them, met with the perfect skinny bodies and shiny skin while his eyes stay on your face, watching you attentively.

"I--no, I'm not." you assure him, but it comes out unsurely and way less honest than you intended.

Working here, you think almost every woman gets through the whole insecurity process at least once. Especially if you're met with gorgeous women on a daily basis but it comes out of inner insecurities in the first place. Eventually, if you're in a happy place with yourself, embracing your own beauty, it's not something you beat yourself over or getting on a radical diet, so you can even come close to them.

You're not envious and jealous, not at all. There are times when a woman can get insecure, or compare herself with literal models and by "a woman" you include yourself too. You think it's only natural in an environment like this but you're happy with yourself and you hope every single coworker of yours is too.

"Good, because you're pretty," he says, a serious tone laced with softness as you stare at him with wide eyes, not expecting the compliment but honesty too. "Ah, sorry have I crossed a line? I didn't mean it--I wasn't meant to be disrespectful towards your boyfriend. I just saw you looking at them and I thought--Ahhh, I'm sorry." he rambles as you watch him with your mouth agape before you let out a chuckle and shake your head.

"You aren't disrespectful," you assure him, still seeing the panic in his light eyes. "Thanks for the compliment."

He lets out a breathy laugh, "I hope I didn't come off as if I'm coming onto you or something. I know you're in a relationship,"

Your features turn guilt for a second and you know he catches the change, though he most likely mistakes it for sadness rather than guilt.

"I'm not like that!" he quickly adds and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Benjamin, please breathe," you continue to laugh silently, "I know. You're very sweet, thank you."

"Good, I don't want to be on bad terms with your boyfriend. He seems like he can throw a punch or two." he jokes, but there's a little fear and seriousness in his voice which makes you giggle.

"He can," you muse but quickly add, "But don't worry about him. He wouldn't punch you for calling me pretty, not that he has to know."

You give him an assurance that you won't snitch on him to "your boyfriend", even though it's not a big deal at all. Even if you had a boyfriend and someone else called you pretty, it doesn't mean they're coming onto you. And you appreciate Benjamin's concern, knowing he really didn't mean to come off as pushy or invading in any way.

"Good, good..." Benjamin sighs in relief, giving you a grin. "Who's the other photographer? Is she from our company?" He changes the topic.

"No, actually. She is Jungkook's friend."

Benjamin opens his mouth, an audible "Oh" leaving his mouth before another voice reaches your ears.

"Admiring your boyfriend, I see?"

And just like that, your own grin drops and you turn around finding Yoongi making his way to you. Can he be any more suspicious? He looks amused as fuck, finding his little joke (which is unknown to Benjamin) a little bit too funny and your expression of annoyance even more.

"No. I'm doing my job which can't be said about you." you remark back, watching his grin stretch even more which annoys you to the core while Benjamin stares confusingly at you and him, sensing the tension.

It's not like he is new to it but he's probably confused why you still bicker at almost every chance.

"Oh, admiring your boyfriend is your job?" he teases, or more like annoys the shit out of you as you bite your tongue. "Besides, I've been doing my and your job."

"What do you mean?"

"They're looking for you in the office. You're supposed to sort out finances with the team."

"No, I am not. I'm supposed to be here for a while until--"

"Doesn't matter," You're rudely cut off by him as he waves you off. "Get your ass there. You're lucky Junho isn't there and is busy admiring your boyfriend."

"Careful, you sound jealous, Min." you sing out, gulping down the rest of the cold coffee now before you bin it.

Brushing past Yoongi, you pat his shoulder just for the right measure to piss him off and seeing him narrowing his eyes at you annoyingly, you know you've succeeded. Throwing a wave to Benjamin, you leave the two of them there as you're on your way to find the fuck out what you have to do with finances.

The next time you see Jungkook is after lunchtime, he's joined with Junho and a few other people including Natalie, the main star of today's project and Ester. You heard Junho invited some of them to lunch outside, which threw you off a little considering he's been a nervous wreck about this project and you pictured him showing his usual temper. But at the same time, it makes sense he's suddenly a different man, trying to impress everyone he invited to lunch.

He never did that with any of his employees – not that most of you would go anyway, maybe strictly out of politeness and a fear of possibly pissing him off.

You've around five minutes to get back to work, meeting Jungkook's gaze across the room as he makes his way over to you, leaving the partners and agents alone as everyone is going their own way.

There has been barely any time to chat with him, or just make sure everything's good even though you know Jungkook can take care of himself and everyone is swooning over him. So once you're met with a gentle smile of his, you reciprocate it.

"Hey, where were you? I thought you'd join us for lunch." he says, stopping right in front of you.

"I couldn't, besides Junho didn't invite us and we still had some work to do." you explain.

By work you don't mean anything too important, just to make sure everything's ready on the next set so you can go home on time.

Jungkook's eyes narrow for a moment, an unpleasant look making its way on his face as he licks his lips. "Have you eaten?"

"Uhh, yeah. There is a buffet prepared for all of you but Benjamin actually ordered us a delivery."

You'd be completely fine eating toast or something light for lunch, as long as you get to eat something and won't stay hungry. Luckily Benjamin was kind enough to take it upon himself to prepare food for all of you, the people that were left behind in the company. Though, to be completely fair you were free to go eat out too, it's not like you have forbidden to do so, but all of you know it wouldn't be convenient today.

"You could've just told me." Jungkook says, sound tilting close to the actual scolding which makes you let out a breathy chuckle.

"Told you what?"

"Well, I could've taken you for lunch. I thought you guys would join us, I didn't know.... If I knew you weren't invited I'd just eat with you."

You smile at his concern, shaking your head lightly while Jungkook frowns even more. "It's fine," you laugh a little, "You can't exactly decline their invitation. It's only polite for you to go. It's no big deal."

"No, it's not... If I just knew..." he mumbles, "I'd decline them anyway."

Now that makes you laugh and Jungkook's lips twitch as he tries to hide a grin.

"What? I don't care if I'm invited or not, or what's polite or not."

"You're lucky Junho seems to like you a lot."

Jungkook shrugs, a cocky expression taking over his handsome face. "What can I say..."

"Don't say anything," you joke, "How's Ester doing?"

"She's actually very good. I knew she'd do a good job." he answers.

Nothing else can be said because Junho ushers everyone to get back to work. Jungkook sighs and gives you one last dreadful look which makes you giggle as he walks away.

The rest of the week goes exactly the same. You and Jungkook go to work together but you separate as soon as you enter the building, this time around Jungkook makes sure to take you out for lunch and Ester joins you, since she doesn't know many people and you wouldn't want her to be left alone when Jungkook is the only person who she knows the most. She actually comes out of her shell and gushes over this opportunity, thanking your friend a few times.

She's sweet, kind and friendly. In a way she reminds you of someone, she's very much similar to her – personality wise and you wonder if Jungkook sees it the same way.

After lunch, you both go doing your job and don't interact with each other (besides the soft smiles whenever your eyes meet) until it's time to go home. You catch up on the way to Jungkook's apartment, get ready to go to bed before you repeat the same process every day.

It's Friday now and you successfully finished this week with a great outcome that's seen for now. After working ten hours of being constantly on your feet and handling stuff, you miss the softness of your bed and Jungkook's huge expensive shower and you have to control yourself not to look grumpy in this nice bar Junho invited some of you to. Just the close circle of his employees and agents from the other company, to apparently celebrate this week.

You weren't as lucky as Yoongi who slipped away through the doors before another word could be uttered. The idiot is probably at home by now, or doing whatever you want while you're stuck in this bar, listening to Junho bragging about useless things.

Most people that were invited you don't know personally, nor you've a close relationship with or any at this point. Excluding Jungkook who couldn't say no because your boss insisted. Even Natalie has been invited, which doesn't surprise you as she charms everyone with her own charms around the table.

She's taking most of Jungkook's attention, the man having a casual conversation with her while you sit next to him like a grumpy cat, swirling your drink. Non-alcoholic drink to be precise and you already regret your decision not to drink tonight.

It's boring and not even when Jungkook tries to keep you entertained whenever he can, it doesn't help much.

You spend the time going through the entire week, lucky there was no drama happening regarding Yoongi or Benjamin. The last time Yoongi and Jungkook interacted with each other, your friend was ready to punch your coworker. Luckily, they never bumped into each other. And Benjamin? He has never questioned you about your relationship with Jungkook, probably thinking you're keeping it professional in the work which you would do either way – with or without a boyfriend. It ultimately made it easier with Ester as well, since she knows you and Jungkook are friends and you're glad it hasn't reached her eyes that you're "dating" Jungkook all of a sudden.

"You wanna go home?" Jungkook asks once he leans in your direction, close to almost brushing his lips against your ear as his scent fills your nostrils.

You've been here for only an hour but if anyone even talks to you, it's just boring conversation that leads nowhere. Damn, you really feel antisocial right now.

"Not if you don't want to," you tell him, knowing you both came here by his car. "I can just take a cab." You change your mind as Jungkook gives you a look.

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffs gently, "I'll finish the drink and we can go. It's boring anyway." he says the last sentence with a whisper, so nobody else can hear him which makes you bite back a laugh.

Is he lying? He looked like he's having a good time. He talked the most amongst the group which can't be said about you.

"Junho has offered me a job in the company."

Your brows lift up in surprise, Jungkook driving you both home as he lowers the volume of the music that's been pleasantly playing in the background.

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

You had a photographer that used to be employed in the company, but Junho decided to fire him because he "wasn't good enough". Of course you're no professional but you think he had the job done, so him getting fired surprised everyone at that time. That's why your boss stuck to finding a different photographer for each project, instead of employing someone.

"What did you tell him?" you ask.

"That I'd think about it."

"And will you?"

"I don't know," Jungkook chuckles, "It'd be less work for me. It's simpler than being a freelancer and having to sort everything out by myself. But I don't think it'd be a good idea regardless."

"Why not?" you frown.

As much as you complain sometimes about your job, you do like it and you'd be bummed out if you were fired for some reason.

"First of all, I like the fact I'm my own boss. I choose what I want to work on. Besides, I don't think it'd be a good idea if we worked together," he explains, briefly glancing at you to notice your curious gaze but before you can open your mouth, he jumps to explain further. "Friends working together is never a good idea."

"Well, technically we wouldn't work together. I don't really interact with photographers a lot, somebody else does."

"Well yeah, but I wouldn't want to come into your own workplace. That's your place."

"I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that," you chuckle, "But I understand what you mean."

You find it sweet that he puts you first, even though you don't see a problem with him working at your company. If that's what he wants.

"Me and Jimin worked together."

"Yeah but you met there. You weren't already best friends. That's different. And you only did an internship there."

"Hm, I guess you're right." you hum.

"Anyway, I don't think I'm gonna take it. I didn't want to tell him straight away to look impolite or inappreciative."

"Just so you know, I wouldn't mind whatever you decide on." you assure him and the corner of his lips lifts up.

A minute of silence follows until Jungkook stops at the red light, drumming his tattooed fingers against the steering wheel.

"I'm gonna meet up with Hoseok."

Jungkook manages to shock you a second time within the past ten minutes but this time, your head snaps to his direction as he glances at you, a serious expression on his face.

You know he mentioned talking to him recently, but to be honest you completely forgot about that conversation and you'd never thought of bringing it up to him. That's completely his decision if he wants to talk to Hoseok. You know Jungkook deals with a lot of stuff that's eating him alive, no matter how better he seems to be and assures you he is fine. The betrayal he still feels from Hoseok's action is very fresh but there's at least the slightest amount of understanding, at least you hope so judging from your last conversation you had with him about this topic.

"That's great, Kook," you say, not really sure what to say – due to your shock and wondering what's the right thing to say. You don't want him to doubt his decision and you're glad he is at least moving on. "Did you wait the entire evening to drop all this information on me?" you joke and actually make him laugh as he drives off once the light turns green.

"Wanted to have you all to myself before I do," he jokes and you ignore the set of butterflies his words cause you. "I was thinking about it a lot... I can't promise how our conversation will turn out because I'm still hurt, and I don't think it's gonna go away any time soon... but, I'm willing to talk to him. So I texted him today before I could chicken out because I know I would."

"It's not gonna be easy to hear him out, you're still hurt. But just try to see his perspective a little," you advise him carefully while he stays silent, "However your conversation goes, remember you tried your best."

"Yeah." he exhales a sigh, nibbling on his bottom lip as he brushes his thumb across it.

He knows he has to talk to Hoseok either way before it's too late. He needs to deal with this while it's fresh.

The place they agreed to meet is Hoseok's apartment. At first, Jungkook was thinking about meeting him in a public place because the last time Hoseok was in his apartment, it didn't end well. So many things were left shattered that day. He is more calm now but regardless of that, a public place is not suitable for such a conversation they're about to have.

When Hoseok offered to meet at his place, he agreed. The conversation simple and blunt, straight to the point and it's ridiculous how awkward and tense it seemed even through the stupid texts.

For fuck sake, he even woke up early to have a morning jog just to come back and find you already preparing for your day with Maya. He has barely eaten, too distracted to properly function and with each mile he gets to the final destination, he feels his stomach in knots.

However, he walks to his door with utter confidence knowing he has an upper hand in this. And meeting Hoseok's brown soft eyes full of sadness and regret makes him actually soften. But then he is reminded of what he has done to him and if it weren't enough, the pictures that fill his apartment – pictures of his friends and among them Kiko – he is reminded he is in this position because of her.

Not only she ruined their relationship and possible future, she has also managed to ruin his friendship with Hoseok. A friend he has had for years.

But is he selfish to put all the blame onto her? Clearly, it wasn't his fault what happened. It does feel bitter to know she got involved with more people and he wants to be so mad at her. A part of him still is. But then he looks at her wide smile he fell in love with and tries to think what pain she went through alone. Even though she has done it voluntarily, it still doesn't feel better to know she was in pain. Still is.

"Do you want something to drink? Water, juice or I can make you a drink?" Hoseok asks once the awkward greeting is over, motioning Jungkook to sit down on his couch as he listens and peels away his eyes from the memories in a form of framed pictures.

"Water is fine."

He drove here and even though he could easily drink and call a cab, it's better to stay away from alcohol. Not that he is scared to flip out or something because Jungkook isn't the type to turn aggressive if drinking, but it tends to strengthen emotions. He needs to have a clear mind for this.

"Sure, let me get that for you and then we can talk." he offers him a crooked smile and Jungkook knows it's just a mask to hide his own nervosity.

Hoseok has always been collected, the fun one in the group alongside Taehyung but he could still be stern and serious – definitely more than Taehyung. But he has never seen him like this but it only makes sense. Hoseok has never ruined a friendship with anyone. He is friends with anyone. Well, if he doesn't count the awkward interactions you had with him.

He comes back within a minute, placing the glass in front of Jungkook as he thanks him but doesn't reach for it just yet. Though his throat starts to feel dry, he feels it tightening as he's not sure how to start.

"I'm sorry," Hoseok blurts out suddenly, "I know I said it so many times by now but I can't look you in the eyes without saying it again. It feels awful to feel this tension and awkwardness between us, I know it's my fault..."

"No, it's not..." Jungkook mutters, ignoring the subtle surprise on Hoseok's face as he nervously brushes through his dark hair, staring at the younger. "At least not entirely,"

Hoseok's face drops but he nods in understatement.

"I was so mad at you. I felt betrayed by my own friend and having to come to terms with what happened--it's still hard and it's not easy but I think I'm getting better at understanding you and... her,"

Hoseok's features turn soft, not daring to say a word. Not yet at least.

"It sucks because I'm still mad, a part of me is and I don't think it's gonna go away any time soon," he repeats the words he said to you in his car yesterday, "But Y/N made me think about you more... well at least to try and see things from your perspective as she would say. She actually made us an example,"

He chuckles at the memory.

"And I understood if Y/N came up to me and asked me--asked me what Kiko asked you as her best friend. I would do it in a heartbeat. I would be there for her and keep it a secret because I respect her that much. I think it would be so fucking hard to keep such a heartbreaking secret, but I would do it for her. I guess I was selfish to see things from only my perspective. I was too consumed by the anger and heartbreak."

He hates how Hoseok gives him a pitiful look. He hates when people pity him and that's when he usually chooses not to be vulnerable in front of anyone. He deals with his stuff alone

"And it's totally understandable, Kook," Hoseok says slowly and softly, "I can't imagine what you had to go through and I hate myself for not telling you anything since I knew the truth from day one."

"I know it wasn't easy for you either," Jungkook tells him, finally having the courage to look back into his brown eyes. "I think it would be worse if you actually didn't feel bad." he tries to joke and it helps to soothe out the tension in the room, as Hoseok chuckles but it comes out dryly.

"Ever since I've known," Hoseok says hesitantly, eyes glancing at Jungkook as the younger slowly nods at him to silently tell him it's fine to be honest and open. Even if it might hurt him. "I told her to tell you. She even told me she regrets telling me and dragging me into this. But I'm glad she did, only because she was alone. I know she chose it and I know you're the best thing that happened to her, I encouraged her to tell you before it's too late. To talk to you before she–"

He sets his lips into a tight line as Jungkook gives him a saddened nod, knowing what he is referring to.

"I told her you'd take care of them. I told her even if she decided she doesn't--whatever she decided, you would be there for her every step of the way. But she was so stubborn, she wouldn't listen to me and she panicked. Before she knew, it was too late. When she broke up with you--I scolded her for not telling you the truth but she told me it will hurt you even more than the lie,"

He knows, she told him and it's still hurtful to hear this thing all over again.

"But she put your well-being first. And then you guys got together again and I still told her to tell you because one way or another, you will find out and then she will lose you. I think that intimidated her the most and she caught herself into this web of lies. She loved you so much that the thought of losing you again scared the shit out of her. She regretted her decision and--I know you probably don't want to hear about her or hear her side because what she did–-it was her decision and she had the right to do so. But she still hurt you... a lot."

"No, it's fine. I think I need to hear all of it to be able to fully move on." Jungkook swallows, hearing his heart cracking but something tells him he really needs to hear all of it.

"She started going to therapy shortly after..." he motions with his hands, still not able to say it out loud because it is too painful. For him as well. "She wasn't doing well, Kook. I know you probably don't care–"

"I do," he cuts him off gently, "I don't like the thought of her suffering, despite all."

"Because you have the biggest heart," Hoseok says immediately, cringing at his words which makes both men chuckle a little. "You really do."

"I just don't get it... we were doing so fine. We talked about our future. So what if it happened way sooner than we planned? She wasn't planning to break up with me. Does she think we couldn't be a family? Does she think we couldn't raise a child together? As a father of the child, I had the right to at least know that she is pregnant. Fuck, we had sex just a few days before she broke up with me. Knowing she was pregnant at that time--"

"Nobody would change her mind. Not even you, Jungkook," Hoseok reminds him softly, "I know you think you would... but she was too stubborn. She was depressed and sure of her decision. It backfired and she is gonna live it for the rest of her life. She lost you for good."

Jungkook swallows, wanting to reach for the stupid glass of water but he doesn't want to look weaker than he already is.

"How--How is she?" he asks carefully. Tone perfectly slow and wary, he's not sure if he wants to hear about her but a part of him wants to know.

He hasn't seen her and nobody talked to her in front of him, which is understandable and he knows it was better that way.

"She's in Japan at the moment," Hoseok smiles sadly, "She is with her family and needs to heal. It fucked her up a lot. I think even more because she blames herself knowing it's all on her."

"I...I'm sorry to hear that."

He really is. No matter what happened between them, it's not easy to hear how much she is suffering. He doesn't want her to suffer for the rest of her life. He's not that bitter and bad to actually wish that.

"She will be better," Hoseok says, though Jungkook is not sure if he means it or tries to persuade himself, or both of them. "At first she tried to hide her true emotions, she thought I couldn't see she's faking it... it always ended up with her losing it. It would take hours to calm her down."

"I'm... I'm glad she had you." he says, knowing he wouldn't be able to be that person to her.

Or maybe he could but he's not sure if he was capable, considering his own heartbreak and demons.

"You were the one she wanted," Hoseok admits softly, "But nobody would ask you of that. She really hates herself for hurting you."

"I know," Jungkook sighs, "I don't want her to hate herself."

"Maybe you could tell her that? Maybe in the future? I know it's a lot to ask and I don't want to make it seem as if I'm pressuring you. You've got every right not to see her anymore because I know how much that must hurt. I think you both aren't ready to see each other and most importantly, talk. But maybe the right way to heal is to heal each other?" he asks unsurely.

He definitely doesn't want to push Jungkook's buttons, he already appreciates him being here and this conversation going smoothly, even though it's sad and heartbreaking all over again.

"Maybe," he mumbles, "I'm healing slowly but I guess you're right. I'm not ready though. It still hurts. I can't help but think what if... and all that. I imagine what my life would look like if she didn't... but I guess it happened for a reason?"

"Yeah," he nods slowly and gives him a saddened smile, "Maybe you just weren't meant to be for each other."

"I'm not sure if I believe that," Jungkook frowns, "We loved each other. If she said the truth, things could be different. I wouldn't leave her no matter what."

"Of course, I don't doubt your love," Hoseok reminds him, "I'm sure if things were different, you'd still be together. But I'm glad you're healing. I'm really sorry for what you had to go through. I wish I could change it."

"Maybe it happened for a reason," Jungkook shrugs, though he is still not sure if this is his fate. "I'll have to live either way."

"You look well." Hoseok tells him, searching Jungkook's face. He doesn't look as broken as he once did.

The memory of Jungkook's indescribable face when they last talked together still haunts him to this day. It made his guilt even bigger each time he thought about it.

"Y/N helped me a lot. So did Taehyung and Jimin..." he explains silently. "She made me see things that would take me way longer to realize."

Hoseok smiles and a few moments of silence follows as Jungkook stares at his intertwined fingers.

"Hobi," Jungkook calls out softly to his friend, Hoseok's eyes sparkling at the nickname as a relief washes through him. "I'm sorry for almost punching you."

"No, please, it's alright. I get it."

"No, I was aggressive. If Y/N didn't get between us, I would have punched you. I really wanted to."

"Do you want to punch me now?" He jokes and makes Jungkook's mouth twitch as a playful gaze washes over his eyes before he slowly shakes his head.

"No."

"Good, it would definitely hurt like hell," he chuckles, "But yeah. It was crazy of her to get between us. I told her she shouldn't have done that when I was leaving."

"God, if I punched her accidentally I would've never forgiven myself,"

If that happened, he knows it would be technically your fault because who the fuck gets between two men that are about to fight? Well, between a man who's about to punch the other one.

"She saved the day, though. Didn't she?" Jungkook cracks a smile as Hoseok laughs.

"Yeah, and my face too. Remind me to thank her later."

"I will." he laughs and the air suddenly feels lighter than before. It's still a little awkward but as he stares at Hoseok's joyful face, or at least way more relaxed than he looked in the beginning, he feels relief.

"We are good, yeah?" Hoseok asks unsurely, suddenly turning nervous again as Jungkook stares at him for a second.

And then his lips stretch into the slightest smile, unspoken forgiveness lingering in Jungkook's big and dark eyes. "Yes. We will be."

Once Hoseok stretches his hand to him, Jungkook takes it and is surprised when Hoseok gives him a crushing hug.

"Don't overdo it." Jungkook jokes, slapping Hoseok on his back as he pulls away with no regrets.

Maya looks beautiful in every dress she tries. It does make you emotional to see her in her possible wedding dress, and you have a hard time not to tear up. It's definitely the champagne's fault the woman that works in the shop gives you.

You've lost count how many dresses she has tried so far, each of them unique and beautiful in their own pretty way. Maya has no idea what style to go for, so she picked various styles and has managed to look good in each of them.

You're enjoying this, not only the champagne with a strawberry in it, but it's something new and it's safe to say you've never been in a wedding salon to be a part of the process of picking a wedding dress with your friend. It does distract you from the thoughts of how Jungkook is doing. You do check your phone whenever Maya is in the fitting room.

You don't know what you expect. A message of Jungkook losing it again? A message that everything went well? You know meeting Hoseok is a big deal for him, regardless of how he tried to hide it this morning.

"Crap, there's not enough time. Can you try the dress for me?" Maya pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyes directed on the wedding dress she's wearing at the moment once the woman informs you there's another client coming soon.

It's the last piece Maya has to try, the sleek dress hanging on the hanger for her to try. Just getting out of each dress is taking a lot of time and you think you've got enough time. Apparently you don't and you can already see the stress on Maya's face. This is a big deal for her and this process does make her feel nervous, because she wants everything to be perfect. Even though she tries to look carefree and relaxed.

"Me?"

"Yeah, there's not enough time for me to try it." she whines, sending a glare to the door where the woman working in this salon disappeared. Well, it's not her fault Maya chose too many dresses to try in a span of two hours.

"But our bodies are different," you remind her, "It's gonna look different on me than on you."

"I just need to see how they look on the body. I don't really care whose body it is."

"Oh, okay." There's not enough time to think this through and you stand up, wiping your palms against your jeans as you walk towards the white dress.

The woman comes back from the door, seeing you grabbing the dress as she rushes to you and takes it from your hands to help you. "Let me help you," she smiles kindly, "Are you trying it for your friend?"

"Uhh, yes." you smile nervously and let her lead you to the fitting room.

She helps you to put them on and surprisingly, they fit amazingly. You'd still need a pair of heels because the dress is too long. You walk out of the fitting room, chuckling at yourself.

"Yah, I'm not sure."

Maya looks in your direction, hopping off the circled stair which is placed for brides to stand to see the dress more clearly, since the mirrors surround one side.

"Wow," she lets out, grinning ear to ear. "Don't do this to me girl. You'd be a prettier bride than me."

"Oh, please." you roll your eyes at Maya as she helps you to step on her previous spot.

It's the moment when you turn around to fully look at your reflection under the bright lights that your mouth falls open. Your hair is down, the soft waves you made yourself in the morning actually make you look less casual with this dress on. It's got blouson sleeves, the skirt thin but flowy. It looks like a dress for a princess. You feel like a princess and you can't stop looking at yourself.

"God, you're so beautiful," Maya whines next to you, "I love the dress. How you feelin'?"

"Weird?" you chuckle, "I've never tried a wedding dress before. Obviously." you snort at yourself.

"The dress suits you," the woman joins your conversation, complimenting you as well as your cheeks heat up at their compliments and eyes widened in awe. "You look like a princess."

"I want to look like a queen at my wedding." you joke as both of them giggle with you.

"Let me take a picture," Maya says and hands you your phone to unlock it for her since you've been taking her pictures on your phone, so she can decide on her choice later.

She said like ten times on each dress that "It's the one" and all of them are beautiful, so deciding will be hard for her.

You hand her the phone back and pose for her, even throwing a peace sign as a joke as you laugh together. The owner of the salon, whose name you unfortunately forgot when she introduced you, takes a picture of you two before you have to rush to get out of the dresses so the other client doesn't have to wait once she gets here.

Just as you thank the owner, grabbing your stuff, the other client arrives just in time as you get out of the salon.

"Fuck, it's gonna be so hard to choose." Maya complains but the happiness on her face is clear as the day. "This was so fun. Thank you for coming with me."

"Don't mention it, it was so much fun," you tell her, letting her intertwine your arms together. "Here, let's get an ice-cream and look at the pictures!"

She doesn't refuse, both of you stuffing your face. The entire dress is trying to make both of you hungry.

Once Maya goes to the bathroom later on, you check your phone to see no notifications. You open the chat with Jungkook and jokingly send him a picture of you trying on the dress. You'd show him later anyway but you do want to ask him how's it going.

You're about to lock your phone, thinking he's not going to respond right away and there's a chance he is still talking to Hoseok. Surprisingly, he replies right after you lock your phone.

Kook: 😳

You snort at the emoji, thumb hovering over the screen before another message pops up.

Kook: are you trying to tell me something?

"🙄 what?? No compliments?"

Kook: are you getting secretly married?

"Lol yes"

Kook: who's the lucky guy?

"Not you 😜"

Kook: ouch and here I thought we said we'll get married together if we are not married by the age of 40

"I guess you aren't that lucky then"

"They told me I look like a princess 😎"

Kook: you do

You unawarely bite your lower lip as you stare at his text, wondering what the tone of it is. Deciding that you're not sure what to reply next, because all of this is just a joke, you start typing.

"How's it going with Hoseok?"

Kook: great actually

Kook: I'll tell you at home

Kook: see you until then princess ;)

You send him an emoji of rolling eyes, knowing he must be cackling behind the screen. Putting away your phone, you smile at approaching Maya as you fall into another friendly conversation as soon as she sits down.

Jungkook is in the shower when you come back, the day with Maya dragging longer since you decided to go for a walk and then have a late lunch together before you parted ways. She still hasn't decided on her dress but she still has some time, a few weeks or months. Nobody expects her to choose one on the first day.

You change into more comfortable clothes, grabbing yourself a glass of lemonade when Jungkook joins you in the kitchen.

"What's up, princess?" he teases, greeting you once you turn around to spot him wearing his sweatpants only, hair wet from the shower. He is doing this on purpose, doesn't he?

Not letting yourself to look too affected for various reasons, you roll your eyes at his teasing. "Keep teasing."

"Or what?" he presses, a scent of shower gel and shaving cream filling the kitchen as he leans against the kitchen island, smirking at you.

You clench your jaw, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants. "How did it go with Hoseok? Show me your hands."

He rolls his eyes, chuckling a little. "Good, actually," he responds, shaking himself out of the amused mood as he turns serious. "We talked a lot. I'm able to understand him more but... yeah, I think it's going in the right direction."

"That sounds great, I'm glad." you smile and Jungkook returns it.

"We hung out for a little longer and then I went to work out to process it. I feel... surprisingly lighter and more relaxed."

"He is your friend, I can imagine you want to have him in your life."

"Yeah..." he mumbles in thought before he glances up just as you drink the lemonade. "How was your day with Maya? What's with the wedding dress?"

You laugh, "We were running out of time, so Maya asked me to try the dress for her. All the dresses were so beautiful, Kook. So many various styles and materials."

"You had fun, I see."

"I did."

"Did she pick one?"

"No, there were too many and she still has time to decide. We took a picture of each dress, so she has the pictures to choose from. But the prices, oof."

"Isn't she renting the dress?"

"She is, but it's still expensive. We talked about her wedding plans and the money they're about to put in it, fuck. I mean I know organizing a wedding is expensive but the prices she told me--I'm not sure if I'll ever get married." you laugh and Jungkook amusingly rolls his eyes.

"You will." he assures you.

You know you will. You're just joking but the money you need for a single wedding is still a lot. Mind blowing.

"Oh," you suddenly remember, reaching for your phone on the counter as you unlock it. "I wanna show you something."

"What? Another wedding dress?" He jokes as you thrust your phone into his hands, eyes trailing your face amusingly for a moment before he looks at the screen and his features freeze before a slight frown makes it on his face. "What's this?"

"I found this on the internet." you explain, standing next to him as you peek at the screen, a familiar image and text on it.

"Are you moving out?" he asks, surprised.

"I told you I'm searching for apartments and I found this. Look at the pictures, the apartment is so cozy and the rent is actually very good. It's even closer than the building I lived in before. Look, look," you tell him as you swipe the pictures to show him how the building looks from the outside. "Doesn't it look western? It brings me back home. It even has a balcony!"

Jungkook looks at the pictures, reading the information that comes with the ad.

"I didn't contact the person yet, I wanted to show you first. But I think I'm gonna try it and have a look. What do you think?"

He hands you back the phone as he looks a little taken back, which you do notice and it makes your excited features fall down a little. He meets your gaze and suddenly relaxes as he gives you a smile.

"You should try at least."

"Would you come with me? I mean... if you're free that day."

"Yeah, sure. We can check it out together." he assures you and you sigh in relief.

"What's wrong?"

He frowns, shrugging. "What?"

"You look weird. Do you not want me to move out?"

"Do you think I want to?" he asks dumbfoundedly. "I told you you can stay as long as you want." he reminds you.

"No, no that's not what I meant. I know I can stay. But we both know I can't stay here forever."

"Why not?" Jungkook's lips curl as he sits down on the chair and pulls you between his spreaded legs. "I got used to having you here,"

And his hands roam down your lower back as you shiver, looking down at him and how soft his skin looks.

"It's gonna be sad not having you around."

You snort, "You make it seem as if I'm moving to another country," you joke, "I will still be around. Have you grown attached to me, hm?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes, "You know I enjoy your company."

"Mhm, company," you tease as he grins at you, eyes sparkling. "Or something else, don't you?"

"It's not just about sex." he frowns a little as you snort.

"Okay," you nod, knowing that's not what he meant. "But it does make things easier, doesn't it?"

"It does," he agrees, "How will I fuck you? Will we have to make sex apppoitments or something?" he whines and it causes a bubbly laugh rip out of your throat as your hands play with his hair at the back of his head.

"Oh, how awful." you tease and he groans, hiding his face into your stomach as you keep laughing.

He pinches your ass and you yelp, scolding him right after as you're interrupted by Jungkook's ringtone. He reaches for the device, staring at the screen as a low "Fuck" makes it out.

He groans and you look at the screen, seeing "Mom" written on it.

"I was supposed to call her but I forgot." he explains before he accepts the call.

"Yah, Jeon Jungkook! You don't know your mother's number?" Mrs. Jeon scolds him as soon as she realizes Jungkook has accepted her call, even before he can utter a single word.

You hold back a laugh, watching Jungkook pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm so sorry, mom. This week has been busy and--"

"So busy you can't contact your parents?" Mrs. Jeon continues to scold him as Jungkook shoots you a glare, ready to slap your ass as you dodge it just in time. "Jungwon told me you'll call me and I've been waiting."

"Ah, I know. I'm sorry, mom," Jungkook sighs disappointedly at himself, "I'll make it up to you."

"You will!" she agrees, "I want you to come visit. The last time you were here was for Christmas. It's spring already, spring Jungkook!"

You can't hold it back and you laugh out loud, slapping your hand over your mouth as Jungkook's mouth twitches and he tries to hide a grin. His mom says something as Jungkook sighs.

"It's Y/N. She's here with me."

You hear something muffled, now that her voice isn't as loud as Jungkook sighs. "Wait a second,"

And then he turns on the speaker and places his phone on the counter.

"Okay, she hears you now."

"Y/N, my sweetest girl! Is my son annoying you? Is he cleaning after himself? I heard you live with him, I hope he takes care of you."

You giggle, Jungkook pursing his lips as he looks annoyed at his own mother.

"Hi, Mrs. Jeon!" you greet her cheerfully, stepping closer to the phone so she hears you more clearly. "Don't worry, Jungkook is the nicest roommate."

"I'm happy to hear that. I raised him well!" she praises herself and Jungkook snorts, causing you to elbow him as he shrugs.

"You did." you agree with her, smiling as she asks you how you are and how's your work. Simple and friendly questions you gladly answer.

In the middle of your conversation, Jungkook sneakily starts to caress your ass down your thighs, shooting you a grin as you turn around to glare at him.

"--you need to come to Busan too! Jungkook-ah, take her with you. We need more girls in this household."

Jungkook snorts, "I don't know if Y/N wants to, mom."

Mrs. Jeon stays silent, waiting for your answer. "I mean... if I'm free I'd love to see you and Mr. Jeon again." you reply politely.

"See, Jungkook? Even Y/N wants to see us."

"Mom," Jungkook groans, hand between your thighs as he caresses your inner thigh.

You hate to admit how wet you already are from his touches and he is not even touching your clothed heat.

"I said I'm sorry. You really gonna torture me?"

Mrs. Jeon snorts, "Yes."

"You women are something else."

"Y/N dear, slap him for me."

"Mom!"

You start laughing, Jungkook dropping his hand off your leg.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Jeon. I will punish him." you joke, not realizing how your words sound until it's too late but Mrs. Jeon doesn't put any thought to it as she laughs and supports you.

Jungkook glares at your amused expression that you give him, something flickering in his eyes. "Keep talking," he warns you with a low tone, so his mother doesn't hear him.

You stick your tongue out at him.

"Mom, I will try and come this weekend. I'm sorry for not calling sooner. Say hi to dad from me, okay?"

"You better come this weekend. We miss you and it's been a while. Haru has been talking about her uncle, I'm sure she will be happy to see you again."

"I was just babysitting her, mom." Jungkook reminds her dumbfoundedly.

"And? That's why she can't stop talking about you. Why do you sound so annoyed, Jeon Jungkook? I hope you're not because she is your niece, just wait–"

"Alright, mom. I love you and I will see you next weekend. Bye, love you." And he hangs up before she can say anything else.

He leaves you speechless and you laugh, slapping his shoulder. "That was mean!"

"She was mean too!"

"Genes." you shrug simply and walk away from him.

"Yah!" You hear behind you.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook scenario #personasintro

672 notes · View notes

adissonsss · 7 months

Text

PT1: Headcanons(SFW) How dating Tokio Hotel would be like

Notes; I started crying while listening to Mockingbird by Emniem, so I decided to finish this

•Since I already did a seperate Bill post, his section is shorter(😢😢)

•This is bordering NSFW, some mentions of sex

•Sorry I was gone for a while, I was busy w/ helping around the house+some other personal things

•Enjoy, much love!💜💜

Tom Kaulitz

•With Tom, he thinks you're a godsend. He won't even breathe near another woman again if it means you smile at him.

•He just loves you so much. You've totally stopped his playful, flirty personality towards other women.(not towards you)

•Y'alls relationship is spontaneous, fun, laughter-filled, and light-hearted.

•^And I quote, he "doesn't like girls who overthink."

•No doubt he jump-scares you everytime you come out of the bathroom, crossing a wall corner, or tired and dazed and having Tom breathe on the back of your neck while falling asleep.

•Flirty & inside-joke pet names!!!

•^I can imagine Tom staring at you whilst you sleep👁👁. You wake up and turn your head, and see Tom wide-eye staring at you not expecting to be caught.

•^ I wouldn't blame you if you got scared or shy. Or both!

•Tom loves food. Cooking, ehh, not so much.. You, cooking? YES! You, cooking for him? HE WANTS TO MARRY YOU AND BE BURIED TOGETHER💗💗.

•^ If you can cook, or bake, or both, he has heart eyes rn😻. He will devour anything(including you😘), but your food he actually cherishes and enjoys, feeling grateful and blessed you and your skills.

•He will make a song about and/or w/ you. Singing into the mic while he plays guitar on stage, standing close to him, making eye contact.

•Y'all know that thing he does w/ his guitar? Yeah, he does it with intentions of doing that to you tonight. If you're in the crowd, he makes eye contact and licks his lips, letting his mind run wild.

•He kisses you any chance he gets, any body part.

•^On your neck while your head is turned? No problem!

•^On your hand while stretching it behind your head? Yeah, he loves it.

•^On your lips while your venting to him if your stressed? Sure!

•He will never not do it.

Imagine

Sitting on his lap while he softly plays guitar, dozing you to sleep.

He hums along with the beat, and notices the extra weight on his chest. He sees you sleeping, and a smile erupts onto his face. He doesn't move a muscle, enjoying this special moment with you.

After a couple of moments, he does slowly grab his phone from his pants pocket and snapping a(or about 20) picture of you.

Bill Kaulitz

•He loves physical affection, and will hug and touch you at every moment.

•He loves you, and your attention!!!!!

•He loves praise, but praise from you?? His clothes are off.

•Honestly anything from and about you is just so... He just loves you and your being and everything.

•If you have color-treated hair or a texture which you have to take special care of it, Bill is learning how to help you ASAP.

•If you read or write, Bill loves reading w/ you, and honestly just endorsing your hobbies+skills.

•(I saw a similar idea to this on Tiktok) If you both have stuffies, he makes them be both of y'alls kids to take care of, feed, and bathe. Turns them away from the bed whenever when it's the adults alone time🙈.

•Romantic pet names.

Imagine

Laying next to Bill in bed, both of you just staring up at the ceiling, extremely tired after today's events of being on stage.

You feel Bill's hands creep around your waist, you now becoming the little spoon. Bill places his mouth close to your ear, and whispers softly, knowing your close to a nice night of sleep,

"Goodnight, schatz."

Gustav Schäfer

•This wonderful man is loving, romantic, and soo sweet😻.

•He loves holding your hand, and just feeling your body on him(take it any way you want to)

•He loves dancing w/ you, holding your body close and spinning you around, feeling the rhythm of the song.

•I'm tryna keep it clean in this post, but DAMN. This man's muscles, he can and will use it for helping you w/ heavy lifting, grabbing you, picking you up on his shoulder, advantages in bed, stamina, anything to be honest.

•He is a bit submissive, wanting to keep you close to him so doing anything and everything for you is a daily part of this man's life.

•Y'all saw that clip where he took his shirt off on stage? Yeah, you tried to do that once(if you wanna be apart of the band, idk), lil bro gave you the death stare and a little more in the bedroom later that night❗

•Look, he may be nice, but if someone deserves to be judged, Gustav is gonna judge.

•You and Gustav shit talk and give certain people the stank face if they deserve it, laughing about it later on🤝🏻.

•If you have a large family, siblings, or relatives in general, he will want to put on his best impression for them! Shaking hands, bringing a side, dressing up nice, being the most polite he's ever been, all or you🤗.

Imagine

Gustav is in the gym working out, without a shirt, and he catches your eye. You admire him flexing and working his muscles. He decides to act like you aren't staring and does extra reps, pushups, and lifts more than what he usually does.

He spills some water on his face on purpose, and uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe it off his chin🥰.

Georg Listing

•The first thing this guy notices about you is your body. A literal quote.🙈

"The first thing I notice about a girl is her butt!"

•He loves your shape and size, curves and crevices, marks, scars, pimples, scabs, whatever makes you, you.

•He loves your laugh! He's always cracking jokes and laughing w/ you.

•He will admire your body in bed, seeing it covered in a sheen of sweat, in all of it's beauty and kisses all over your skin, feeling blessed and grateful that you chose him to be your boyfriend!

•He loves taking care of you, and you love taking care of him(you better), so making eachother breakfast, giving eachother daily vitamins or medicine, all of that.

•MOVIE. DATE. NIGHTS. Cuddling up on the couch w/ popcorn and candy, sharing a warm blanket and falling asleep not in 1 hour in. He ignores the movie and probably falls asleep admiring your peaceful face.

Imagine

Georg usually wakes up earlier than you, being a early-bird. So, with that, he either makes or buys you breakfast, ordering your favorite drink and items, ordering stuff for him and the others too.

When he gets back and your still asleep(damn), he softly wakes you up, holding back a "awe" at your sleepy face, setting down the drink and food on the nightstand, getting into bed w/you, and talking about anything and everything.

---------

Taglist;

@ilovebill-and-gustav

@doll-bite

•I love these sm!!!

•Much love!💜💜

#adissonssswrites #2000s #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fanfic #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #gustav schafer #georg listing #bill kaulitz #georg listing x reader #gustav schafer x reader #kaulitz twins #bill kaulitz x reader #kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines

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royaltozaki · 7 days

Text

save your love

synopsis: y/n is susie in allie x & mitski's susie save your love song - if u dont know it go listen :P (but also u dont have to lol synopsis is y/n calls bsf sana drunk and sad and angry abt her bf and you don't know that sana is in love with you)

warnings: cursing, sexual harassment, alcohol, slight cheating, gonn repeat sexual harassment bcs its there and its potentially triggering so err on the side of caution and dont read if ur worried - take care🙏

w/c: 3.7k

a/n: still not over the fact that sana used susie save your love in that one ig post like wdym ur a mitski - qpoc ICON - listener and u post a song abt how u wish ur bsf would leave her dumb bf and be w u instead - a quintessential wlw experience like HELLO???? i also think i projected a liiiiiiil bit accidentally maybe im so sorry but writing this shit works better than therapy ngl

࿐ ࿔*: ☽･ﾟ

"y/n where the fuck are you."

you're cursing as you almost drop your drink, phone between your ear and shoulder.

"i dunnoooo one of marshall's friends' places i think. he was supposed to be my ride home but i can't find himmmmmm."

sana's already got her keys in her hand, heading out towards her car, cursing under her breath, "can you share your location with me sweetie? or is there anyone else there that you know?"

you look around at the various stragglers in the living room either smoking, high out of their minds, or completely passed out. loud music, bass thumping hurting your head as you feel the vibrations shoot up your body. "mmmmm noooo but-"

"hey! marshall's girl right?" a deep voice comes over the phone and sana squints to try and make out what's going on, unlocking her car and turning her engine on.

"y/n? hey y/n you still there?"

"mm yeah sana sorry one sec- you guys know where marshall is?"

"think i saw him headed home with someone in the passenger seat, thought that was you cutie."

"someone else? huh?"

"you doing okay? you look a little pale let's get you upstairs in the bathroom yeah?"

"w-wait no-" sana can make out multiple voices talking to you and a little scuffle as you drop your phone, voices fading.

"fuck!" she's about to call your boyfriend marshall and demand for your address when she sees you were able to start sharing your location with her. she sets it into her navigation app and starts speeding to the destination.

࿐ ࿔*: ☽･ﾟ

"umm guys where are we going? i don't think marshall's up here..."

"oh don't worry babygirl. marshall's our best friend he's okay with whatever we wanna do."

"mm okay but like- what are we doing? if we're singing you guys have to know i suck at karaoke so don't laugh."

the three guys holding you up laugh, "nah nah baby we're just gonna get you cleaned up a little before marshall comes to pick you up okay?"

"oh okay~ mmm wait where's my phone? i was just talking to my best friend-" you start to fumble for your pockets while the guys lead you into a dim room.

they shut the door and close in on you, you’re still cluelessly looking for your phone when one guy starts kissing you, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

"w-wait! what are you doing?!"

he's pushing you onto a bed and climbing on top of you kissing your neck while the others slip your top off and unbutton your jeans. "shhh we're just cleaning you up like we said. want you to be nice and ready for marshall right?"

"no what-"

the door slams open and sana's there, breathing heavily from clambering over the steps.

"get the fuck away from her."

the guys exchange annoyed looks when the one who was at your jeans stands up and walks towards sana, "you the best friend? you're welcome to join us if you'd like." he's pulling on her hand and dragging her towards you.

she doesn't give him another second, yanking him back and bringing a knee up into his crotch, letting him fall to the side groaning as she rushes towards you.

you realise belatedly she's got her phone out and the flashlight on as you squint, trying to make out her face.

"get the fuck off her right fucking now. i've got all you shits on camera and the cops on speed dial."

the two guys glance at each other, looking like they want to pull a fight but then they're cursing and moving away, picking up their friend off the floor and stumbling out the door.

her flashlight turns off, and you feel her tugging your clothes back into place before lifting you bridal-style and carrying you out, down the stairs, and into the passenger seat of her car.

you watch hazily as she paces around outside for a few minutes on the phone with someone, stopping to snap a picture of the house and then hanging up and getting into the car, slamming the door close.

you flinch at the sound, shrinking into your seat, pulling the jacket she's draped over you closer.

she starts the engine and pulls out wordlessly.

you don't dare speak yet, letting the soft hum of the engine and the late night radio music fill the silence as you listen to her heavy breaths slow down.

finally she sighs and glances over at you, "what would you have done if i didn't show up y/n?" her voice is gentle, it always was with you.

you can't look at her, tears welling up in your eyes as you stare out the window, shrugging in response.

she's frowning, "did they manage to do anything to you? are you okay? do we need to get you to a hospital?"

you're shaking your head, the movement making you dizzy, feeling gross in your own skin as you pick at your nails. "can you take me to marshall's? i don't wanna talk about this right now." you're voice is croaky when you speak, on the verge of tears.

sana grips the wheel hard at your request, instead, pulling over on the side of the empty road and putting the car in park.

you sigh exasperatedly, "sana please i just said i don't want to talk about this right now."

"that's fine but if you think i'm taking you to that asshole's house then you've got to be fucking kidding me y/n."

you turn your head to look at her then, her eyes are dark with barely concealed rage, fists clenched so tight her knuckles were turning white. you falter under her gaze, "he's not an asshole."

she scoffs then, "are you fucking serious? what kinda boyfriend takes you to his rapist friends' house then leaves with another girl without so much as a text. it should be enough proof he’s a dick that he's even friends with those assholes." she spits.

and you can't help it, you start sobbing uncontrollably.

"oh shit y/n i didn't- i'm sorry-" she's shuffling around trying to get around the console, and you sob even louder at her outstretched hand, careful and wanting to comfort you but making sure you were okay being touched first.

you're diving into her arms and then she's all there. pulling you into her lap and adjusting the position of her seat so you can squeeze in between the wheel and her torso. soft hands running through your hair shooshing and whispering gently into you ear. arm wrapped tightly around your waist while your face is buried in her chest, heaving and letting out your disgust.

she never stops running her fingers through your hair, letting your sobs wrack your body, hearts beating in tandem as she just holds you.

eventually, your sobs reside to sniffles and you feel a little silly, rubbing your eyes onto the material of her betty boop pyjama shirt.

she's still combing fingers through you hair, rubbing your back lightly, and laying soft kisses along the side of your face, resting her forehead against the top of your head and breathing you in softly.

"i-i'm-" your voice cracks as you try to speak up weakly but she hushes you quickly.

"we don't have to talk if you don't want to. we can stay here for as long as you want. i'm not going anywhere."

you feel your eyes well up again, but you swallow it down, speaking up after clearing your throat, "i'm sorry-" your voice cracks again, almost breaking, "i'm sorry you had to see me like that."

you feel her lifting her head off yours and looking at you in disbelief, mouth open and about to protest but you put a finger to her lips, still not able to look at her.

"no let me finish. you were right. i had no idea what i'd have done if you didn't come. i'm sorry that you did have to come. i'm just so sorry for fucking up sana. if i'd- if i hadn't got so drunk maybe, or if i'd followed marshall home-"

she licks the finger on her lips and you yelp, looking at her out of reaction and cringing, wiping the finger on her shoulder in faux disgust.

she chuckles, "can i talk yet?"

you nod shyly, "as long as you don't lick me again." avoiding her eyes.

she's smiling and a hand is on your cheek, brushing the skin there gently and you can't help but lean into the touch.

"y/n... you don't have to apologise for anything. i'm sorry if i made you feel like you did. but i don't care about all of that. i'm just grateful i was there, if anything, i'm angry at myself for not being there sooner." you look at her as she takes a shaky breath in, eyes wet, "but you have to know none of that was your fault. there's no what if. it was no one's fault but the guys who decided to take advantage of you while you were drunk."

you're crying again, head in your hands, "n-no but- like i know that but i just- like i trusted them. i trusted them because they were meant to be marshall's friends and i trusted marshall."

she's rubbing her hands at your lower back, "that doesn't make it your fault for trusting them. they broke that trust the moment they started thinking of you in a way they shouldn't have. you can't blame yourself for something like that y/n."

"i just feel so gross sana. i can't stop thinking about how their hands felt on me, and i want to scrub off every bit of them."

she's clutching your waist, anger building up again, "i'll fucking kill them."

you let out a choked laugh, "yeah? you and your 163 centimetres? against three buff gym rats?" you poke the skin at her arms, "with these muscles i assume?" (it was SO funny and adorable in the ready to be tw-log finale ep when jeongyeon was poking at sana saying how she has zero arm muscles)

she's pulling away from you with a pout and a whine on her lips before her gaze darkens and she says somberly, "i have a car."

you laugh seriously then, a big hearty laugh as your head falls to her shoulder, and she's whining and trying to pull you up. you're so grateful for her.

eventually you come up, wiping at your eyes and catching your breath, "well i'm glad i have someone who'd commit manslaughter for me."

she's pouting adorably and you get a sudden rush of want, and you blush, scrambling away, wondering why the fuck you just thought about how easy it'd be to kiss the pout off your best friend's lips.

sana's confused and pulling you back into her, "what's wrong? where’re you going?"

you come up with the quickest excuse you can think of, "gonna puke."

she yelps and quickly opens the car door, almost falling out in her rush to avoid being covered in sick. you're out the door in seconds, heaving in the fresh air and shivering slightly at the cold, hoping it'll at least cool down the heat in your cheeks.

then you're giggling, and then laughing again, turning back to face her look of disgust. her face morphs as she watches you though, and soon enough she's doubled over laughing as well.

to anyone driving past, you'd both look insane, laughing at absolutely nothing. but to you, you've never felt more free, more relieved. you're safe, and okay, and you're favourite person in the whole world is here with you. you collapse onto the hood of her car, and she follows suit, giggling and breathy.

the two of you lay here, looking up into the night sky, counting the stars. you shiver slightly and move closer towards her until your bodies are touching. she's turning slightly, wrapping an arm around your waist loosely, and watching you watch the stars.

you turn to face her, breaths mingling, coming out in wispy white clouds of heat in the chilly night air. you find your eyes dropping to her mouth again, and you can't hide the blush that adorns your face this time. if you'd just leaned in a little more, you'd be able to answer the burning question in your head of what exactly sana tasted like.

the slight quiver in her lower lip entrances you, the soft breaths she's taking as her warmth fans over your face, smelling of jasmine and the toothpaste she’s used just before bed. you're inching closer and closer, her eyes are on your lips as well.

you lose it though, when a tongue peeks out and licks across her bottom lip, and you're pressing your lips against hers softly, eyes closed, and humming at the warmth she provides.

she's kissing you back gently, lips slotting against yours in the perfect way, and then she's gone, pulling away leaving you chasing after her, but she places a hand on your chest, pushing you back lightly.

"you're drunk. and taken. this is wrong."

you whine, trying to pull her back to you but she's firm, sitting up and walking away.

you're blinking and what the fuck just happened? dazed as you stand up as well, moving back into the passenger seat dumbly, peeking at her expression trying to get a sense of what was going on inside her mind.

she starts the engine and pulls out from the kerb, staring straight ahead, giving you nothing.

you can't help but think you've fucked everything up again.

࿐ ࿔*: ☽･ﾟ

the storm brewing inside your head doesn't stop when she pulls into your driveway and parks.

you muster up the courage to apologise but she beats you to it, "i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have done that. can we just forget it about it please? i don't want to ruin anything between us. you're the most important person in the world to me and i can't lose you over these stupid feelings and i'm so sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable at all i-"

your inebriated mind is playing catch up, rolling her words in your head over and over again trying to figure out why that sounded like she was saying she had feelings for you? that couldn't be right. sana was the it girl. she was the girl that everyone wanted. she was the girl that sat through your nerdy rants about space and eels. the girl that bought you ice cream when your first boyfriend broke up with you in grade 3 because he didn't like the way you cut your hair. the girl that cried when she found out you weren't going to the same high school because you were moving away, but then managed to get her parents to enroll her anyway and spent the next 6 years taking the 2 hour commute to school just to be with you.

and holy shit. sana was in love with you.

"sana..." you interrupted her rambling, "i... i kinda have a massive headache right now and i'm more than a little drunk but… this isn't going to change our friendship at all."

her eyes are wide and shining, looking at you in fear, you grab her hands and squeeze them over the console, "i promise i'm not leaving you but i don't want to give you an answer yet when i'm in this state. but if it helps, i'm pretty sure i'm the one that kissed you first." you grin, and she lets out a shaky breath.

you let go of her hands and shyly rub the back of your neck, "i kinda need to get inside and get clean but i'll call you tomorrow if that's okay?"

she's nodding, wiping at her eyes hastily.

you open the door and step out, closing it softly behind you. but you lean back down and gesture for her to roll down the window which she does.

"and sana... thank you for tonight. seriously. i don't know how i can ever show you how grateful i am for you being there."

she purses her lip and is firm again, "stop it. i'm glad i was there. and thankyou for letting me be there for you."

you smile gently as you wave and head towards your door, she waits for you to get inside and the door to shut before she pulls out and drives home, heart thumping, thoughts messy.

࿐ ࿔*: ☽･ﾟ

you wake up in the morning with a pounding headache, stumbling to your kitchen to pop a few painkillers and squinting as you adjust to the morning sunlight spilling through your windows.

thank god you remembered everything that happened last night, you set your lips in a line as you got ready. you had a strict plan for today, and nothing was going to ruin it.

you quickly get dressed, thumbing out a small letter and grab your keys, driving over to marshall's house was step one.

once you arrive, you slam your car door loudly, taking satisfaction in the fact it probably woke him in his self-induced hangover he was no doubt soothing. you stalk up his front door, rapping on the wood loudly and tapping your foot impatiently as you wait for him to open the door.

it's not him though, and you scoff at the sight of a half naked girl, probably barely legal, pushing her aside despite her weak protests, and letting yourself into the space.

you storm up to his room, flinging open the door, grabbing the vase next to the bed, and dumping the water all over his sleeping head.

he wakes up with a start, "WHAT THE FUC-"

you slap him across the face, bringing his attention to you, "we're done." two simple words and you're back out the door, going down the steps, and back into your car.

you're halfway down the street when you spot him in the rearview mirror clambering after you in his underwear, soaking and pathetic.

you can't believe you had stayed with that man for as long as you had.

the relief you feel after your first action of the day is freeing. you're chasing after the feeling you had last night when you were doubled over laughing like madmen with sana on the side of the road. adrenaline pumping as you pull up to your local florist, purchasing a big bouquet of pink hydrangeas and then grabbing 2 coffees and a few bakery goods, shoving everything back into your car and speeding away again.

you arrive at sana's front door in record time, knowing her, she was definitely awake already and probably anxiously waiting for you to call. you grin as you grab the flowers, the letter you wrote before you left the house, and the breakfast you've gotten for the both of you, placing it down on her front door mat and arranging everything nicely so it looked picture-worthy.

then you ring her doorbell and duck, running over to her side fence that you knew she always left unlocked, entering her house through the back door, and sneaking back towards the front.

sana's bent down over the flowers and you can see the slight crease between her eyebrows from her confusion as she reads the letter you've left in the middle of the hydrangeas.

i'm sure you don't need me to tell you what pink hydrangeas represent because you're a huge flower nerd and i love that about you but i'm going to write it out anyway to show you i did the research.

in japan, hydrangeas are used to show you're sorry. and i'm sorry for not realising sooner, for letting you suffer for so long on your own. they also represent heartfelt emotions and gratitude. i'm eternally grateful for you sana. you're the most important person in the whole world to me too. i'd also commit manslaughter for you.

in europe, hydrangeas mean vanity and arrogance. i'm sorry i was so self-involved with my stupid boyfriends. to tell you the truth, i always thought you were too good for me, and that you'd realise that one day and leave, so i clung to anyone i could find, waiting in fear of that day. that was selfish of me, and i see that now, because you could never leave someone you love. because i realised i feel the same way about you, and i could never, never leave you.

pink hydrangeas are the most romantic of the bunch. (they’re also your favourite colour) i'm obviously trying to tell you that i love you too in a more than platonic way. and this time i'm not drunk or hyperemotional, i'm certain.

you silently creep up behind her while she's reading your note, and then grab her waist lifting her up into the air as she squeals, turning her in your arms and planting your lips on hers.

she's caught by surprise, lips unmoving against yours, until she realises it's you and wraps her legs around your waist, arms around your neck, and kisses you back.

you can finally taste her. and there's no way to describe it. you don't know why it took you so long to realise your feelings for her, but you'd never felt the way you feel about her for anyone else. you'd chalked that up to being best friends and that that's the way all best friends feel about each other, but best friends don't sigh into kisses. best friends don't feel like their hearts would explode with each soft press of skin against each other. best friends don't love each other the way you loved sana.

you break away when you feel wetness glide along your cheek, and salt touch the tip of your tongue. "sana?! oh my god i'm so sorry, i shouldn't- i should've asked first- oh shit i'm so-"

she's chuckling brokenly and you can't tell if she's laughing or crying or both but she pulls you back in, melding your lips together again speaking against your mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm just so happy right now."

you smile against her, kissing her again, you think you'll never be able to get enough of this feeling. "i'm sorry it took so long for me to catch up."

you feel her laugh against you, "i'm just glad you've still got some love saved for me."

"always." kiss. "it's all for you from now. i love you."

"i love you too idiot."

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #sana x f!reader #sana x fem!reader #sana imagines #twice x reader #twice imagines #royaltozaki

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 month

Text

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐛 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: lars content yay! as far as i can tell, i'm one of the few to do anything on him, so i hope there's more than ten people out there interested in him

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: she blinded me with science—thomas dolby

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• This guy is a snacker

• Take one look at him. You can't tell me that he doesn't constantly skip out on meals in favor of research, usually just pulling a granola bar or stained tupperware from his desk drawer to eat while he works

• Don't get me wrong, Lars can still devour a good bit of food. Sometimes you like to make fun of him for how much good he'll get on his face in the process

• "You're looking at me weird." He frowned at you one day from behind the rims of his glasses

• "Uh, yeah. Wonder why." You grin with mild surprise, watching as leftover rice and beans from the burrito in his hands stuck to the corners of his mouth like glue. He was quick to wipe it all off, ignoring you as you laughed at him

• Aside from that, Lars usually keeps his workplace pretty clean. It's cluttered, sure, but you don't think you've ever seen him wonder where something went. He just always knew where things were. It was like he had a system in his head, and the more you thought about it, the more you decided he definitely did

• The one time someone had even tried to clean his place up, you watched as he immediately jumped in, convincing them that they were needed elsewhere and sending them off before they could mess with his set-up

• Often times, when it's just the two of you alone in the offsight lab, you'll bounce a tennis ball off the wall while Lars types away, only ever looking up to squint at you when the ball gets to close to his head

• "You should really give that to the possesor. I'm sure it'd appreciate it." He hums to you at one point while spinning around in his chair to reach something. Behind you, you hear the unmistakable sound of a metal chair tapping excitedly on glass, and you make a tsking noise

• "Pretty sure you just want me to stop distracting you with my awesome skills." You boast, attempting to do a trickshot only to smack Lars in the back. He glares at you, and you inch backward with a nervous chuckle

• "You know what, I think I'll give it to the possesor."

• "What a brilliant idea." Lars says monotonely. You were quick to get rid of the ball

• He hums while he works!

• It's not anything discernable. In fact, most of the time he isn't even singing real songs. Just little tunes he'll make up on the spot for himself; often as a way to pass the time and make minute tasks fly by

• You notice it quite a lot, but don't really say anything. It's quite entertaining, if you're being truthful

• "Sittin' and waitin' for food. Sittin' and waitin' for food.." He'd improvised once while waiting yet again for a t.v dinner of his to finish its cycle in the labs shared microwave

• "Wow Lars. Voice of an angel, you have."

• "Stuff it."

• Lars doesn't often need help with his work, there's a reason he landed the job after all, but when he does, you're always the first person he goes to. It's a side effect of having spent so much time with you at work, and even outside of it—if you counted lunch breaks and independent experiments as a non-work environment

• He likes being able to get a fresh set of eyes on whatever's stumping him, and it usually doesn't take long for the two of you to work around whatever was holding him up

• Overall, you couldn't think of a better friend/co-worker to have, and the same applies for Lars. Your relationship will only strengthen as time goes on, even withstanding the bizzar experiences that Garraka eventually brings later that year

• But that's for much later. Right now, the two of you are content to sit in the aquarium-turned-headquarters, watching as the hours ticked by without a care in the world

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters x you #ghostbusters x y/n #lars pinfield #lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield x you #lars pinfield x y/n #james acaster #headcanons

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frostgears · 8 months

Text

port leave

the slap rings loud in the half-empty food court. your face smarts, your eyes water, and your handler's other hand, the one holding her cone of frozen yogurt, doesn't even bobble.

"if your audio didn't pick up 'no', pretty thing," she continues, "then maybe we need to get it serviced. it'll be a shame about the rest of your port leave."

you sense movement and then see: the large bearded man at the next table over. he steps between your seats, interposing.

"miss, are you all right? i just saw her hit you. do you need me to call the cops?"

your handler sighs a sigh born of professional weariness. she puts her yogurt on the table.

"sir, you need to step back. step back slowly."

"the hell i will! you just slapped her! right in front of me!"

"sir. seriously. put your hands down. step back. it is not a 'her' like you think you know. ignore the cute little skirt; it is not a person, it is a weapon system…"

she's talking to him the way she talks to you.

"…you've probably never seen one out of its armor, i get it, i'm not in uniform either, it's my day off. but sometimes these things get confused about the difference between cran-apple juice, avgas, and blood, and they need a reminder of where they are…"

sing-song, reassuring.

"…i'm just going to reach for my service ID here. all above board. again, please don't make any sudden movements…"

"you're sick, lady," the man growls, as he pulls something from his pocket.

you don't wait to find out what. by his next blink, your teeth are at his throat.

"shit! stand down!" your handler shouts. "position 4!"

by your own next blink, you are kneeling at her feet.

there's a large blob on the floor, but it's irrelevant. you have eyes only for your handler.

if you were wearing wings, you'd fan them a little bit. she likes that.

you remain in position 4, hanging on your handler's every word. there's a glow of heat kindling between your legs.

"just a cell phone," she mutters. "hell, sir, i told you, no sudden movements. keep this pressed to your neck, it's clean, just bought it, she didn't get deep."

"somebody," she yells at the gathering crowd, "go get mall security or something. this man needs first aid, and we don't want to risk moving him."

you do not move or signal. you are not somebody. you will hold position 4 until given other orders. you remain in position 4 until all the explanations are done, all the mess is cleaned up. there are stares. you're used to them.

then your handler gazes down at you. your eyes lock to hers.

"you need to listen, pretty thing, when i tell you we're not going back to base yet…"

the heat between your legs grows.

"…now i've got to get another scarf. and i still want to swing by that place with the cute bags… the rest of your leave is cancelled, obviously. maybe shouldn't have even tried. but when we're back at base, i'm for sure gonna need to blow off some steam."

her expression flicks from tired to sharp, hungry. it's all you can do not to squirm, until, finally, she says,

"at ease." □

#microfiction #mech pilot #combat doll #flight deck

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tonyspank · 7 months

Text

YOU RIGHT

Warnings: none i think Summary: You meet Olivia Rodrigo at a party. A/N: part 2?

Olivia Rodrigo x Reader

Fame. It was a blessing and a curse, bringing both adoration and scrutiny. The allure of the spotlight drew people in, but the constant invasion of privacy weighed heavily on those who experienced it.

You never wanted to be famous, with everyone watching your every move and judging your every decision. The pressure to maintain a perfect image becomes suffocating, leaving no room for mistakes or personal growth. It seemed like too much.

Your friends, on the other hand, envied the idea of fame. They saw it as a gateway to success, wealth, and recognition, and hell, it was.

The difference between Jack's and your bank accounts was big.

Jack Harlow, a rising rap artist, seemed to have it all. Jack Harlow, the same guy you used to hang out with and freestyle with in your basement, was now selling out arenas and topping the charts.

Jack Harlow, the same guy who would visit New York just to hang out with you, his best friend.

You'd know Jack since he was just starting out in the music industry. You had witnessed his journey from recording songs in his bedroom to signing a major record deal.

You were proud of him, he was truly like a brother to you, and seeing his success brought you immense joy. Despite his fame, Jack remained humble and always made time for the people who had supported him from the beginning.

Which is why he decided to drag you to a party in downtown Brooklyn, a place he hoped you would enjoy. The party was filled with talented musicians and industry professionals, nearly everyone there had some connection to the music industry.

You follow Jack as he maneuvers through the crowd, making his way to the DJ booth. You watch him dap up the DJ before he introduces you to him. "This is Zack Bia, his shit is fire. I swear to you." Jack says, leaning closer to you so you can hear him over the music.

Zack daps you up, giving you a warm smile before turning back to his DJ set. Zack leans into Jack's ear, whispering something that makes Jack quickly nod his head, you can slightly mouth the words "Oh yeah."

Zack presses a button on his DJ controller, and the music transitions seamlessly into Jack's song, Dua Lipa. He then hands him a mic, and Jack grabs it eagerly, ready to perform.

As the beat drops, Jack's voice fills the room, captivating everyone with his smooth delivery and undeniable stage presence. The crowd goes wild, their energy fueling Jack's performance as he effortlessly commands the small stage.

You find yourself nodding your head to the beat, unable to resist the infectious rhythm. The music pulsates through your body, making it impossible to stand still. Jack puts an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as you take a sip from your glass.

"Do the next part," Jack whispers in your ear, moving the microphone away from his lips. You laugh a bit, shaking your head. "Nah, man." Jack smiles, "C'mon."

He doesn't give you time to process your response before he moves the microphone to your mouth and starts singing the next verse. Caught off guard, you stumble over the lyrics for a moment before finding your voice and joining in.

Jack starts jumping up and down, his energy contagious as he encourages the crowd to sing along. "So, what's up?" Jack shouts into the microphone, moving it away from you.

You leave the stage, needing a drink and fresh air after being put on the spot like that. When you arrive at the bar, you see a brunette girl sitting by herself, her head down, as she types away on her phone.

You twist your lips, would she mind if you took a seat next to her?

The bartender looks up from cleaning a glass and nods at you, indicating that you can take a seat. When you settle down, you catch a glimpse of the girl's screen, noticing that she's scrolling through social media.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asks, breaking your focus. You quickly glance at the menu and order a shot of tequila.

You can feel it. Her eyes stare at your side profile, but you pretend not to notice and play with the rings on your fingers. What would you say to her if you mustered up the courage to strike up a conversation?

Moments later, the bartender returns with your shot of tequila, accidentally knocking over the girl's drink and proceeding to drop your shot on the table. "Shit! I am so sorry."

You chuckle and reassure the bartender that it's alright, searching for a napkin. "Do you have a napkin?" You ask the bartender, glancing at the wet stain on your jeans.

The bartender searches underneath the counter, unable to find a napkin. "I'm really sorry, but I don't have any napkins at the moment. There might be some in the bathroom upstairs."

You glance at the brunette, who is now wiping her drink off her dress with her hands. "I could also grab you a napkin too, if you'd like."

For the first time, she looks at you, and your stomach does backflips.

"I could come with." She smiles, her brown doe eyes staring into yours. Her smile is warm and inviting, making your heart race even faster. "That would be great," you say, trying to hide your excitement.

You both make your way up the stairs, squeezing past other people who are heading downstairs. As you reach the top, you notice a sign pointing towards the bathroom. The brunette leads the way, gracefully navigating through the crowd.

Huh. This place used to be a studio, you think to yourself, admiring the high ceilings and large windows. You walk into the bathroom with her, turning on the light to reveal a clean and modern design.

The marble countertops and sleek fixtures give the space an elegant touch. You can't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that you won't have to endure a grimy restroom experience tonight.

The brown-eyed girl lets out a huff, searching the bottom compartment for napkins. "Well, I didn't find any napkins, but..." she says, pulling out a blowdryer. "We can use this."

You laugh, impressed by her resourcefulness. "That's definitely a creative solution," you say, admiring her ability to think outside the box. "Who needs napkins when we have a blowdryer?" you joke, helping her plug in the blowdryer.

You sit on the countertop, waiting for the blow dryer to warm up. "I'm Y/N, by the way." The brown-eyed girl smiles and extends her free hand. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Olivia," she introduces herself, grateful for the unexpected company in this situation.

You shake hands, and you can't help but feel that this encounter might turn into an interesting and memorable experience.

Olivia raises the blowdryer on the wet spot on your jeans, causing you to jump a bit in surprise. "Sorry about that," she apologizes, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

"You're good, it's just a bit hot."

You smile as you watch her swing the blow dryer back and forth, blowing warm air onto your damp jeans. Olivia looks back at you with a small smile on her lips.

"Did you get dragged here too? Or did you come willingly?" You ask, trying to make conversation.

"A bit of both, you?"

You chuckle softly, your eyes glancing around the room. "Well, I guess you could say I was persuaded to come," you admit with a playful tone. "But I'm actually glad I did. It's been a while since I've hung around Jack...I missed him."

Olivia nods understandingly, her smile widening. "Jack, like Jack Harlow?" You nod in response, confirming her guess. "Yeah, that's the one. We used to be attached at the hip back in high school, but life got busy and we drifted apart. It's nice to reconnect and catch up."

"Do you make music too?" Olivia asks, curious. You shake your head, chuckling softly. "No, not like Jack. I'm more of a listener than a creator when it comes to music. But I've always admired his talent and passion for it."

"You make music, though, right?" You ask and Olivia nods, smiling. "Yes, I do. It's been a big part of my life for as long as I can remember. I like being able to express myself through music and connect with others who kind of relate. It's a form of therapy for me, a way to escape and let my emotions flow freely."

You hum, "I completely understand what you mean. Music has a way of speaking rather than using words." Olivia's smile widens, and she nods in agreement. "Exactly! I honestly can't imagine my life without music."

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you. Another one of Jack's songs begins to play, so loudly that you can faintly hear it all the way up here.

"Want me to dry your dress?" You break the silence, softly taking the blow dryer from her hands. "Oh! Uh, sure, thank you." You smile, hopping off the counter. "You wanna sit? I can help you up."

"Thank you, yeah..." You place the blowdryer down, gently placing your hands on her waist, before lifting her onto the counter. She settles down, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I've always wanted to play an instrument." You confess, doing the same motions with the blowdryer on her dress. "Really? Which one?" she asks, biting down on her lips, her eyes still on you.

You pause for a moment, contemplating your answer. "I think I've always been drawn to the guitar," you finally reply, meeting her eyes.

"Acoustic or electric?" she asks, a small smile forming on her lips. "Acoustic for sure. But I can't sing for shit, so no one-man band for me," you chuckle, causing her smile to widen.

"Well, who needs vocals when you can make the guitar sing?" she teases playfully, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?" Olivia inquires, her curiosity evident in her tone. "I'm a real estate agent, believe it or not."

"It's not as glamorous as being a musician, but it pays the bills," you say with a shrug. Olivia nods understandingly, her smile still present. "Do you wear a suit to work?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Sometimes," you reply with a smirk. "But most days, I prefer a more casual and comfortable look. I can't distract my clients with how good I look in a suit, you know?"

Olivia laughs and leans in, placing a hand on your forearm. "So, what's the most interesting property you've ever sold?" she asks.

"Well," you begin, "I once sold a mansion to Central Cee, you know, the UK rapper? He had some specific requests for the interior design, including a home studio and a custom-built gaming room. It was definitely a unique and exciting project to work on," you explain, reminiscing about the experience.

Olivia's eyes widen with intrigue as she listens attentively. "Is he the most famous client you've ever had?"

"Actually, no. I didn't directly sell a house to Drake, but I did have the opportunity to assist in finding him a property. And this was a while ago, maybe when he dropped that one Keke song."

Olivia's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Wow, why is that actually kind of cool?' You chuckle, turning off the blowdryer and setting it down on the counter. "Well, it was definitely a unique experience. It's not every day you get to work with someone as well-known as Drake."

Olivia nods. "I can only imagine what it must have been like. Did you get to meet him in person?"

You smile and reply, "Unfortunately, I didn't get the chance to meet him face-to-face. However, I did communicate with his team throughout the process and ensure that his preferences and requirements were met."

You let out a sigh, saying, "If you ever need to find property in the future, let me know." Olivia smiles, nodding her head. "Of course, I wouldn't want anyone else. I don't think all real estate agents help their future clients dry off their dresses when the bartender spills a drink on them." She chuckles, patting her dress to see if it was dry.

"I guess that's just one of the many perks of having a dedicated real estate agent like me," you reply with a wink. Olivia opens her mouth to speak, but knocking on the door interrupts her.

"You guys done in there? We've been waiting for ages!" a voice calls from outside. Olivia and you exchange amused glances before you reply, "Just a moment! We'll be right out."

"Here, I'll help you down." You stand in between Olivia's legs, placing your hands on her waist to support her as she steps down from the countertop.

Olivia's face flushes slightly as she looks up at you, grateful for your assistance. "Thank you," she says softly, moving a hair strand out of her face.

You smile at Olivia and give her a reassuring nod. "No problem at all," you respond, feeling a warm connection between the two of you. You can't help but notice how her hand lingers on your arm for a brief moment before she lets go.

You begin walking towards the door, opening it for Olivia to exit first. A messy-haired boy quickly rushes past the two of you, "Sorry, I have to shit!" he exclaims, nearly knocking Olivia over.

She stumbles slightly but regains her balance with your support. You exchange a knowing glance with Olivia, bursting into laughter at the unexpected interruption.

As the laughter subsides, Olivia thanks you for catching her and playfully nudges your arm. "It was nice meeting you, Olivia." You say, returning the playful nudge.

You give her one last glance before walking towards the flight of stairs. "Wait!" Olivia calls out, causing you to turn around. "Can I have your number? I'd love to keep in touch," Olivia asks, a hint of nervousness in her voice. You smile and reach for your phone, exchanging numbers with her.

Olivia pulls you into a hug, surprising you. You hesitate before returning the hug, wrapping your arm tightly around her waist. You pull away, your hands slightly lingering on her waist. "Don't be a stranger," you say, giving her a warm smile. Olivia returns the smile, nodding.

With a final wave, you turn and continue down the stairs, already looking forward to the next time you'll see each other.

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luveline · 9 months

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hey jade!! i love kisses before dinner and was wondering (if you like the idea) maybe you could write something about avery realising how scary giving birth can be and starts worry about it before the new baby arrives? <3<3<3

thank you for your request! kisses before dinner —mom!you and dad!steve comfort avery when she has concerns for your health. fem!reader, 3k

cw discussed maternal mortality and death

Steve Harrington looks out over the kitchen table that night with a great sense of success. You're sitting at the other end with Dove on your knee, feeding her bites of macaroni cheese between feigned spoonfuls given to her rainbow teddy bear. Bethie sits to his left eating without complaint (a victory considering her pickiness). Avery sits to his right, trying to pour her own glass from the juice jug. It's awesome.

Steve quickly swallows the drink he'd been sipping on and offers to help her, hand extended, "Here. I got it."

"I can do it," Avery insists, her long arms shaking under the weight.

He doesn't mind her being independent, nor her improving capabilities, but the last thing he wants to do tonight is clean up a huge juice spill. Steve takes the juice gently and refills her plastic cup.

"Dad," she whines.

"Avery," he whines back.

She huffs and grabs her fork, ignoring her fresh cup of juice to shovel in bites of broccoli and macaroni instead.

"I think I'm done," Bethie says. Steve must have jinxed it.

He attempts to do the impossible —convince Bethie to finish dinner. He takes up station by the side of her chair, having tried everything now, and only this works.

"Beth," he says, putting his hand behind her back, "Are you sure there's no room left? I don't want you to be hungry again before we go to bed 'cos you won't tell me, will you?"

"I'm full," she insists, reaching for her drink bottle.

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asks, rubbing up and down her back.

"No, daddy, it's nice," she says. She isn't quite convincing, but she tries.

Steve looks at her. She looks like Steve sometimes, like neither of you other times, but mostly he looks at her and he sees you. Your smile, your frown, Bethie's tell is the same as yours when she lies. Steve can read you both like a book.

"Is it cold?" he asks, sticking his pinky finger in the corner of her macaroni. "A little. If I heat it back up for you, would that make it better?"

"No, please," she says.

He sighs. "Make you something else? Sandwiches?"

"I'm not hungry, daddy."

Steve plasters a smile over his worries and kisses her cheek. "Okie smokie. Well done, honey, you ate lots and lots. Let's try even more for breakfast, yeah?"

"Yes!" she agrees, sliding off of her chair.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Need to pee!" she yells, running to the stairs. She opens the baby gate (which she’s known how to do for too many years, way before supposed to know how to —thanks so much, Avery) and Steve listens to her sprint up the stairs with a wince.

"Call me if you need help!" he yells after her.

"Okay!"

"You think that's why she didn't want to eat?" you ask, wiping the corners of Dove's mouth with her bib.

Steve stands up and stretches his arms behind his head. "I don't know," he says, rolling his neck around in a circle.

"Is it gross if I eat her leftovers?" you ask.

"I'll make you another pot, if you want it," Steve offers, arms dropping down to his side. He's been trying to get back into shape lately. It's not working out. "You having cravings?"

"I'm just hungry all the time," you say, your voice melding into a sing song as you finish wiping Dove's face. "All done! Good girl, Dovey! You're my good girl." You plaster her forehead with a layer of kisses before putting her down on the floor. She wobbles, hands on your thighs. "Okay? You want another drink?"

"Dotty Dolly," she says, taking your hand. "Please. Please, Dolly."

"Yeah, my love. I'm coming." You groan as you stand up, not quite pregnant enough to worry about popping soon but more than enough to feel exhaustion to the marrow.

"Just me and you then," Steve says to Avery, tucking in chairs and piling plates at the table.

"Me and you, sir," she agrees in a funny voice.

"Still mad at me?"

She remembers to glare at him. "Yes!" She takes another bite of macaroni. "Okay, no."

"If you're not gonna chew with your mouth closed, put your hand over your mouth. I don't wanna see your chewed up dinner." Avery pokes her tongue out, laughing when Steve says, "Ewww."

He sets the leftovers aside for you rather than waste Bethie's largely untouched pasta in the trash, stacking the dishes in the sink and wetting a cloth to wipe down the table. He cleans around Avery, squeezing her neck, shoulders and arms to make her squirm as he goes.

"You want seconds?" he asks, returning to the sink.

"I want dessert."

"Good idea. You know Mom's so pregnant all she does lately is wake me up for ice cream."

"She wakes you up?" Avery asks.

"By accident trying to put her socks on at the end of the bed. Baby's getting too big now, she can't see her toes."

"It's a good thing she has you, dad."

"Yeah, but you'd help mommy, wouldn't you? Help her put her shoes on if she couldn't reach?"

Avery hops off of her chair and passes him her plate, completely clean of food. She grows like a bamboo shoot and eats like a rabid dog. He loves it. She's evidence that he's a good cook.

"Thank you. What did you want for dessert?" he asks.

"I have something to ask you."

"Oh." Steve hates the sound of that, theorising that she wants a new something or other he'll have to say no to. He grabs her by the waist, wet hands and all, hoisting her up onto the counter by the dish rack. He puts a rag in her hands. "You dry and I'll answer."

"It's a weird question," Avery warns.

"Avery, you wouldn't believe how weird some of the questions I've asked are. Don't worry about it."

He scrunches dirty water out of the dish sponge and squirts soap onto a dirty plate. The hot water burns his fingertips. Avery dries a plastic plate diligently, her question coming out slow as running wax.

"Mom's gonna be okay, right?" she asks quietly.

Steve fights to keep his eyebrows down. They bob anyways. "Okay from what?"

"When she has the baby. She's not going to get hurt?"

"Well, having a baby really hurts. But there's medicine for her to take, and I'll be there to hold her hand."

"No," Avery says, frowning, "that's not…"

"Sorry, Ave. Ask me again, try a different word."

She puts the dried plate down to her left and picks another to dry. "Will mom die?"

"No," he says. Doesn't miss a beat, though his pulse capers. He knows that childbirth is hard, that lots of things can go wrong, but if he truly thought you might die he wouldn't have asked for another baby. And even if he did think it were going to happen, it's not a thought Avery needs to have. "She won't die, I promise you. Where'd you get that idea, honey?"

"Jordan's mom died having a baby."

Steve nods and tries to recalibrate the conversation. He knew of Jordan's mom passing away, he made a couple of trays of food for Jordan's dad and put money in the collection plate for her memorial, but he didn't know Avery knew precisely how it happened.

"Right, she did," he says gently. "And that's scary, huh?"

"Why can't it happen to mommy if it happened to her?" Avery asks.

Steve shuts off the water. Hand still wet, he rubs his forehead roughly. "Can I have that?" he asks Avery, gesturing for the dish cloth. She gives it to him, putting down her last plate, and Steve wipes his fingers dry to pick her up without getting her wet a second time.

"Let's have a talk," he says, tilting his head to the side. He sees his eyes looking back at him, smaller and softer, longer lashes but the same honeyed brown. "Me, you, and mommy. Okay?"

"Dad," she says, startled.

"It's okay, It'll be better if you talk to mom, too, because it's mom that's already had babies, not me. I think I know everything because my brain is so big and stuff, but I can't tell you what your mom is thinking."

"I don't want mommy to get upset," she says.

It's partially his fault for asking her to tell him if there's a problem rather than you a few weeks ago. He didn't want you walking up and down the stairs unnecessarily, and your blood pressure is something they've been keeping an eye on. He didn't mean for Avery to bottle things up. Every time Steve thinks he's doing something right it finds a way to bite him in the ass.

"I meant if Bethie's turned the faucet on and flooded the bathroom, or if you want to change your bed or something, not that you can't ask her things that are worrying you," he says, readjusting her weight. Her knees dig into his sides as he carries her to the living room doorway from the kitchen.

"Hey, mom?" he asks.

Your head jumps up. You're sitting on the edge of the couch with Dove's face in your knee, a dribble patch dampening your pants. Bethie has her hand in yours sitting next to you. You're still in your work clothes, your bump straining against everything now, but yet to drop. He'll have to wash your pants tonight.

"Hey?" you say, a guilty smile tugging up your pretty mouth. "I'm coming to do the dishes, I swear. My girls caught me in their net."

"Can we talk to you? For a minute," Steve says.

Your eyes widen. You stand up with a funny noise like someone's stepped on your toes, lifting Dove by the armpits to sit next to Bethie. You kiss the girls goodbye and they're too distracted by Dotty Dolly playing on the TV to mind.

"What's wrong?" you ask, following Steve back into the kitchen.

"Want me to explain?" Steve asks Avery. She nods. "Avery's a little worried about you."

"About me?" You put your hands under your face and beam at her. "What's worrying you? I've never been better."

"She's worried about when you have the baby."

"'Cos of Jordan's mom," Avery whispers.

You hear it despite her small voice, your smile sobering. "I see… I see. You know… you're a big girl, Avery. You're my big girl, and I wish I could keep you this young forever sometimes, but I know that you know that people don't get to stay with us forever, so I don't want to scare you, but I'll tell you what I think, yeah?"

Avery swallows around nothing.

Steve gives her back a sympathetic pat. "It's okay," he says to her, enthusing his voice with some pep to calm her down.

"Jordan's mommy was sick when she passed away," you say, your hand resting on your bump now, inching closer to Steve and Avery where they've paused under the kitchen light. "She knew things were going to be hard. When you have a baby, you know things won't be easy, but it's not fair. It's very sad. She," —you look at Steve with a parent familiar fear that says, Am I saying the right things?— "said goodbye before anyone wanted her too, but Avery." Steve knows what you're going to say. It's a promise he made only minutes ago, one that you have no control over keeping, but a necessary one nonetheless to make. You could very well have complications down the line, things could spin out of control, but Avery doesn't need the stress of that hanging over her. "I promise you here and now that I'm not going anywhere. Daddy won't let me."

He laughs a little breathlessly. "Damn straight."

"But daddy isn't a doctor," Avery says, holding out her arm.

You walk into Avery's reach, letting her climb from Steve's arms to yours without complaint. "He didn't have time to be a doctor, he was too busy being the best dad ever."

"Are you flirting with me?" Steve asks.

"Duh, Stevie." You turn your attention to Avery, struggling to hold her and stroke a hair from her face. "Don't worry about me. Promise me you won't, Ave."

"I just don't want you to go away," Avery says with a frown.

Steve feels an unexpected heat behind his eyes. You smile softly, your thumb on Avery's cheek. "Then I won't. I'll stay. I can't go anywhere without you, gorgeous."

Steve strokes the back of Avery's head. "And I can't be without either of you, so mom doesn't have a choice."

He wishes things were that simple. Steve has no idea what the future holds, but he chooses to believe it'll be a good one, where every one of his girls gets to grow old. But the future isn't something he can predict nor change by wishing alone.

"Did that make much sense to you, sweetheart?" you ask Avery.

"It makes sense. Sorry."

You and Steve make twin sounds of loving disbelief.

"Sorry for what?" you ask, as Steve says, "No, God, don't be sorry!"

"It's okay to ask me stuff," you say.

"That's what we're here for."

Avery wraps her arms around your neck. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she whispers, near imperceptibly, Steve's ears straining to hear her under the sounds of the water heater and the television.

"I'm sure. I've done it three times already."

"Are you scared?"

You shake your head resolutely. "No. You know why?"

"Why?"

"'Cos I know, at the end of it I might get another little girl who's just like you. Or like Beth, or Dove. Maybe I'll get one who's nothing like any of you, but I know with such a great big sister she's going to be amazing."

Avery rests her cheek on your shoulder. "You think so?"

"I know so."

"Thank you," she says.

You laugh again. "For what?" you ask, nails raking up and down the length of her back. "Only telling you what's true. Me and daddy think you're the bestest."

Steve rubs his face with both hands rather than cry. Crying makes his eyes sore and he has to wake up at six AM tomorrow to take the girls to swimming lessons at seven thirty. (He also doesn't want Avery to see him crying and get the wrong idea, what with the previous conversation.)

"Mom?" Bethie asks in the doorway.

"Yes?" you murmur, resting your head atop Avery's gently.

"Excuse me."

You laugh a charmed laugh and scoot out of the way, resting your weight on the door jam. Bethie looks incredibly small idling at his feet, even though Dove is much smaller. She smiles nervously.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He pretends to be nonchalant, while inside he's thinking about lots of things. Avery's huge heart and all her worries. Bethie's emerging cheekiness after years of quiet. Dove's roaring giggle when you squeeze her just right. And you, your bump, your devotion to him and the girls, but more than that —your voice and how you talk with all the good you possess. How you're talking now to Avery in dulcet tones.

Bethie takes his hand. "Can I have the rest of my mac and cheese, please?"

"Yeah, babe. Unless you want dessert instead?"

His hand sways in her grip. "I want mac and cheese if that's okay."

Steve picks her up with a typical dad groan. He'll check on Dove first, but he has no qualms with warming her mac and cheese. He'd offer to make you another helping if you weren't distracted entirely, nose bridge nuzzling into Avery's neck.

He doesn't know what the future holds, but he hopes for more of this.

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fairuzfan · 1 month

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I don’t ask this expecting you have THE answer or that there is one, but I follow a non Palestinian white man on insta (in addition to many Palestinian folks in diaspora and in Palestine) who mostly shares things from Palestinian ppl/sources.

He has several times criticized / shared criticism of charity dinners, music festivals etc raising funds for Gaza with the perspective of, it’s not appropriate to have a dance party or dinner while people are undergoing genocide, but also that in this moment, art isn’t resistance because there needs to be physical resistance, blockades of weapons, etc.

I’ve seen this echoed from some others especially critiquing white folks trying to claim “joy is resistance” right now, which makes sense to me, but i also wonder if it’s reductive to say art or music is not resistance because I feel like it can have a lot of power especially alongside social movements… was wondering if you had thoughts on this or perhaps knew where I could look to learn more.

Please ignore if this is too much, and thank you

I think things like writing and illustration and music feeds into the spirit of revolution and is necessary in that way. You have to energize the masses somehow, and to ensure that your message spreads as far as possible. A good way is to make art, or to sing a song, or write a story.

That's why Wisam Rafeedi wrote his book and different resistance factions make posters and videos — to spread their ideas and garner support among the masses.

It's not as important as putting yourself in immediate physical danger to incapacitate the colonial entity — but I think for Palestinians and other colonized peoples, they do need to make art to really process their thoughts. Of course there's a difference when a Palestinian in Palestine, a Palestinian in the diaspora, a nonPalestinian ally of color, and a NonPalestinian white ally do this. I won't deny that there's a nuance when it comes to this.

But writers who write about Palestinian Liberation historically have been assassinated because of how they participate in liberation actions and also spread ideas of liberation themselves. I don't know which white guy you're talking about but I feel like this is mostly a conversation that should be led by Palestinians if we're talking about Palestine because they understand the nuance of saying statements like "the only resistance is physical." I understand what he's saying to an extent but that does erase a lot of Palestinian resistance the past few decades by making sweeping statements like "art is not resistance" and kind of simplifies the issue at hand.

Charity dinners and galas and that stuff... I don't know what I think about them, I think that people are going to do it either way so my opinion doesn't really matter. Hey, if you're going to raise thousands of dollars for Palestine, I'm not going to stop you at all. I personally think you should try to avoid posting pictures and stuff like that from the gala itself if you're going to host one just out of courtesy.

I guess overall what I'm trying to say, art resistance becomes physical a lot of the time. I think its really reductive to say "art isn't resistance" and also personally insulting considering I have family members and friends who were journalists, creative writers, and artists and killed/targeted for their work.

Here's this article by Fargo Tbahkhi about the role of writing during a genocide that might be a good read. They also mention how Israeli propaganda (calling Palestinians "human animals"/"Amalek" as an example) is specifically a use of culture and writing to energize people to commit genocide. An especially poignant part that I completely agree with, and am trying to get at:

Palestine requires that we abandon this catharsis. Nobody should get out of our work feeling purged, clean. Nobody should live happily during the war. Our readers can feel that way when liberation is the precondition for our work, and not the dream. When it is the place we stand, and not the place we shake ourselves towards. In this way, what the long middle of revolution requires, what Palestine requires, is an approach to writing whose primary purpose is to gather others up with us, to generate within them an energy which their bodies cannot translate into anything but revolutionary movement. This is what Boal modeled for us in his theatrical experiments, which were dedicated to empowering audiences to act, to participate in a creative struggle to envision and embody alternatives. For Boal, theater was not revolution, but it was a rehearsal for the revolution, meant to gather communities together in that rehearsal. Creative work readies us for material work, by offering a space to try out strategies, think through contradictions, remind us of our own agency.

#palestine

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creedslove · 9 months

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BEING JOEL MILLER'S WIFE 🍓 - HEADCANONS

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: I wanna quit my job and be his stay home housewife so bad 😭

You didn't actually have a honeymoon because the money isn't abundant but you definitely took a weekend away to stay in a nice lake house or go to a water park in summer because why not before Joel had to go back to work

But just because you didn't have a fancy honeymoon trip it doesn't mean you didn't spend the whole day all over each other, exploring each other's bodies and barely putting any clothes, I mean, what's the point if you are gonna take them off anyway

He took his guitar and he played to you as you watched the sunset together, he played and hummed beautifully and overcame his natural shyness so he would sing some love songs to you

You wear your wedding and your engagement ring, and Joel wears his too, not only that, he wears it proudly to show he is taken

After your time off, you had to adapt to your new routine, but now Joel leaves home a little later than he usually did, because now he had a sweet wife to have breakfast with ❤️

You have morning lazy sex most mornings, you always wake up with Joel's boner poking your back and you don't resist his sleeping puppy look with the messy hair, sweet smile and strong arms that pull you closer to his warm body

Breakfast depends on who gets up first, sometimes it's Joel, sometimes it's you. He doesn't mind cooking you breakfast but he prefers when you do it because your food is way better than his

You love packing Joel his lunch, sometimes when there's leftovers you pack him a full meal in his lunch box, otherwise you make him a real good sandwich and some other treats

The guys who work for him low-key make fun of the fact the serious and kinda grumpy Joel Miller carries a lunch box made by his wife

And Joel doesn't give a shit about those fuckers because he has a loving wife who takes care of him

If you don't work or you work from home, you make sure to leave the house always tidy and organized for your man

If you work out, he makes sure to split the chores with you on the weekend, but since your shift is a lot shorter than his, you manage to do the cleaning mostly by yourself so weekends are for relaxing or going out

You also make sure to bake him several treats: cakes, pies, cupcakes, muffins, homemade bread, cookies or desserts like pudding or different recipes

Dinner every night for your husband, especially when he gets home a little earlier than usual and he decides to help you, because that leads to sweet moments and even maybe some dancing in the kitchen

Usually weekends are reserved for takeout or he actually takes you out for lunch or dinner, because he wants his wife to relax and enjoy the weekend with him

Joel's a gentleman and he doesn't want you to worry about sharing the bills at home, he sees himself as the one who needs to provide to you, so he insists you keep your money to yourself

And you do so by buying yourself things so you can be pretty for him

But you also buy him a lot of things, you like spoiling things with new shirts, new jeans, new shoes and whenever you see something you think Sarah will like, you buy it for her too

So when she comes home from her college break, there's usually a pile of presents waiting for her on her bed

Joel works really hard and when you two were dating, he often arrived really late because of work, but after you got married, he decided to reduce his working schedule a little because he wants to be there for you

But still, his work is HARD, so he often gets home exhausted and starving and you gladly serve him dinner

He often invites you to shower with him after work, which you do it eagerly. Sometimes it leads to some slow, sexy shower sex, and sometimes you just wash his hair and down his back

When he's sore from working so much, it's also common for you to massage him. You get some lotion and apply on his sore back and you enjoy his grunts and pleasure moans as you help him relief the tension and it might lead to a happy ending with a handjob or not, it depends on the mood

Or you just cuddle on the couch after dinner, Joel is a gentleman and insists on doing the dishes for you or at least help you with it

You either rest against his side or he rests his head on your lap

Run your fingers through his hair and you can swear that man purrs at the relaxation, it never fails him to sleep

When Tommy finally leaves the house for good, Joel and you start making plans on what to do with that spare room. If you're into art he is willing to turn it into an atelier for you; if you love reading, he already got the tools and the wood to build you a big shelf for your own library at home

Or one night he just suggests it would could be home office so it gets easier to remodel it once the baby comes

"What baby Joel?" You frown softly and he cleared his throat "well, you know, I thought we would… or maybe just in case…"

You hadn't discussed that before marriage and perhaps now you see maybe you should have, but you just assumed he wouldn't want more kids after he spent the last decades of his life raising his daughter by himself

And to be honest, not even Joel himself is sure if he wants kids or not, but he does love to picture you with a baby bump, carrying his baby, just as much as he loves watching you interact with little kids

You two decide to sit down and talk things through, and you come to the conclusion that if it happens, it happens, but it's not a necessity or a deal breaker in your relationship

Because you love your husband Joel, and he loves you too ❤️

_____

A/N: idk I wanna marry him so bad 😭

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hardcandycigarette · 1 year

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Long Way Down Part One

Part Three

Here's the story of married Harry who's a dad to three small kiddos, and married for over seven years to Y/N. Marriage is always hard work, but what happens when being married to a pop star becomes too much for Y/N?

WARNING-slight references to sex, curse words

This is angst angst and more angst. There are other parts to the story, and with enough feedback, I'll post more to this story.

Word Count 4.7K

“Japan. Chile. Australia. Oh, and let's not forget Madagascar. Mada-Fucking-gascar, Harry. Who goes to Madagascar? Why the one and only Harry Styles? That's who. You realize most people never see any of those places in an entire lifetime, right? But you, you went to all of those places THIS YEAR!” Y/N stomps to their daughter's room picks her up from her crib, hoists the baby on her hip, and walks out of the nursery and down the hall.

Harry follows her to the kid’s bathroom. "Y/N, baby, it was all for work. I don't care about those places, don't even get to enjoy them."

"It doesn't matter. You still got to go. And that's in addition to your normal New York, LA, often Paris or Rome. Those places are just another day at the office for you. Do you want to know where I've been? Whole Foods. Baby Gym. Holmes Chapel. The park. School runs. Yep, that’s about it. Oh, the doctors, and kids' birthday parties; on wild days, a friend comes for a glass of wine when I can finally relax at 9 PM. So don’t do this with me, not this time.” She begins to undress the baby. She’s seething but keeps her voice down so the little one isn’t upset.

“Do you know how many days you’ve been home since the tour ended? I’ll tell you because I know exactly. 26. You could’ve paid someone to do your dirty laundry and brought home clean clothes. Even the slightest gesture to show you get how hard it is around here.”

“I’m sorry. I was so focused on just getting home I didn’t even think of having them done.” Harry turns on the bath water and tests the temperature.

“Oh, poor thing. Traveling the world in the lap of luxury must be torture.”

Harry walks to the door. "No, Y/N, no. You know what a tour is like. You've been on the road with me. You know how utterly chaotic it is. Yes, I should've thought about the laundry, but I didn’t.”

She places the baby in her bathtub seat, squats, and begins soaping her up. “Of course, you didn’t think of me.”

Harry is leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom now. “Babe, swear if you give me just a bit to decompress, I'll be happy to give you whatever ya need. We’ll take a family vacation, go someplace nice, the five of us, any place you like, you pick.” He extends his hands in her direction.

“You've been home 26 days. That's how long you've had to decompress.” She uses air quotes around decompress. You've done zero loads of laundry. I do at least four a day, trying to catch up with everything. Laundry never ends even when it’s just me and the kids. You leave a trail of mess in every room. You do nothing to help, nothing. It’s like you’ve completely checked out on the fact this is supposed to be a partnership.”

“My job isn’t just dancing around in sparkly trousers for an hour or two. I’m fucking exhausted too. You’re not playin’ fair, Y/N.”

"Thing is, I'm not playing at all, Harry.”

“A vacation with the five of us is a vacation to you, Harry, not to me. I love you guys, I really do, but I need a break. I needed this just for me. I wasn't asking for much, Harry. Five days for myself, time to decompress, as you call it. I wanted to be with my friends and sisters, but you know what, never mind. Go. Just go. We’ll talk about it when I’ve put her to bed.”

“I’ll put her to bed.” He closes the door behind him when he steps out.

Harry hears her singing Adore You. The song always makes the baby smile. Y/N can’t be completely furious if she’s still singing his songs. Harry couldn’t be more wrong.

When Y/N finishes with the bath, she wraps her daughter in her little duck towel with a hood and exits the bathroom. Their son’s door is cracked down the hall, and she hears Harry talking with him. She stands just outside the entrance to eavesdrop.

“That sounds like a good time, buddy. I’m glad you had fun with your friend. Did you make sure to hug him and say thank you before you left his house? Did you thank his family for having you over?”

“Yes.” He sounds so tiny for someone who wrecked Y/N’s nerves with his big voice the entire time Harry was gone.

“So, let’s get snug as a bug in a rug.” Harry wraps the blanket over their son and kisses his forehead. "Have a good sleep, and we'll have some fun in the morning, yeah?”

“Love you, Dad.”

Harry walks across the room and turns off the light. “Love you even more, bud. See you in the morning.” He closes the door when he leaves the room.

“Thank you.”

“He’s m’ son too, Y/N.” Harry walks toward the couple’s room, head hanging down; he drags his finger along the wall.

He doesn’t stick around to help put Lola down, be it because he forgot he said he would put her to bed or he's just upset.

Y/N walks to Lola’s nursery, dries and lotions her, dresses her for bed, and places her in the crib, hoping she will go down without a fight. "Love you, punkin’. Good night.” She kisses her and stands near the bed. She waits to see if she cries. When she only babbles, y/n turns on the baby monitor and nightlight, then crosses the room, turning off the light as she exits, but only closes the door partially.

Y/N heads toward the bedroom, dreading how the rest of the evening will go. Harry is sitting on the bed reading a book about Japanese art, his readers slide down his nose as he pretends to be intensely focused, but she knows him and knows he’s not focused.

She walks to the dresser, opens a drawer, and gets some pjs. She’s too pissed off to bother with a shower but goes to the ensuite to undress. “Don’t have to pretend you’re reading Harry.” She changes her clothes and tosses the dirty clothes in the hamper, does her skincare, and brushes her teeth. She picks up a pair of Harry’s gross, beat-up sneakers as she enters the bedroom. "These are nice," she says, tossing them across the room.

“Cut the crap, Y/N. I know what you're doing. You're not getting a fight out of me, so toss all the shoes you want. I'm not going to argue with you. The passive-aggressive stuff stopped working a long time ago."

She exhales and sits on the bed. "Not being passive, Harry, just aggressive. I'm tired. I'm so tired." She falls back on the bed.

He crawls over to her and plants a kiss on her lips. “Mmm, minty.” He smiles.

“Yep.” She closes her eyes.

He kisses her again. “Come over here; Let’s have a snuggle and a good night’s sleep.”

“I can’t tonight. I just can’t.” She sighs as she climbs to the pillows, placing her head down on the fluffiest one-her favorite one.

“Can’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

She rolls her eyes. "Okay. I don't know your pattern exactly; whenever you want to get frisky. Just met you, have no idea what you're like when you want to pretend an argument didn't happen, makeup, move past it, and get what you want.”

Harry’s eyes narrow. He swallows the lump in his throat and shakes his head in disbelief. “Wow. I can’t believe you just said that. That’s one of the worst things you’ve ever said to me. To imply I manipulate you for sex.” Harry stands, grabs his pillow, and walks to the door. “I’ll be in the guestroom.”

The following day she slowly opens her eyes and reaches over to Harry, but he’s not there. She thought that after he cooled off, he'd return to bed. She thought he’d slip under the covers once he knew it was safe and she was asleep. But he didn't come back to bed. She sits up and looks around the room. Gross sneakers are still across the room, three of Harry's hoodies over the recliner, one of Lola’s toys, and an empty water bottle next to Harry’s wallet -the room is a disaster. She sighs, rubs her face, and flops back down. The house is quiet, almost too quiet. Why is it so quiet? In a panic, she sits up, throws on her robe, and walks to the door. She flings it open and rushes down the hall. When she gets to Lola's room, she pushes open the door; the light is off, and Harry, bare-chested, sits in the recliner, rocking her. "Is she sick? What time is it? Where is everyone?"

"No, she's not sick, Y/N, she's m’ daughter, and she needed a cuddle with her daddy."

"Oh. Look about last night…."

"Not right now, Y/N. Let me enjoy this. Archer and Poppy are in the playroom watching a film. They’ve had their breakfast.”

She nods and leaves the room. She can’t hold back her tears as she walks to the kitchen. But her tears abruptly halt when she enters the filthy kitchen. Harry obviously made breakfast for everyone. Pancakes and bacon are covered with a cloth and a note with Mumma written in crayon to let her know it is hers. But the tenderness she feels doesn’t last long as she scans the kitchen. The dirty plates, cups, pots, and pans litter the kitchen and breakfast nook. The stove is splattered with grease and batter, and God knows what else. She starts to gather the dishes to clean them and load the dishwasher. Once everything is in the sink, she sits at the table in the breakfast nook, picking at the plate of food left for her. She isn’t hungry. Lately, she never is.

"Not as good as yours, but not half bad.” Harry breaks the silence as he stands next to the fridge arms folded over his muscular chest.

“Where is-“

“Living room in her pack-n-play.”

“Okay.” She picks up a slice of bacon and bites into it. She tosses it back on the plate.

She stands, walks to the sink, and begins cleaning off the excess food.

“I was going to do that as soon as I got done with the baby. I didn't have time to juggle it all."

“Really? Didn’t have time? Couldn’t juggle it all? That’s rich.” She shakes her head and chuckles as she places the cutlery into the designated basket in the dishwasher.

He shakes his head, looking at the ground. He cocks his mouth to the side and clicks his tongue. "Touche." He walks over and begins placing the dishes in the dishwasher.

She moves, allowing him the glamorous opportunity of a lifetime. “Wonder when the last time you did this was. Long before X-Factor, I’m sure.”

“Don’t.” Harry scrapes off a dish.

“But why not? You get to have all the fun. You get to do all the talking. You get to see all the things. Meet all the people. You get it all.” She leans against the counter, tapping her fingers.

“Y/N, I’m warning you-don’t.”

Her eyes widen, and she stands with a smirk on her face. This man bought all the audacity. “Warning me? Warning me? What are you going to do if I don't stop? Nothing.”

To get her attention, he throws a glass, aiming it at the sink, but not realizing the force behind it, it crashes into the stainless steel and shatters.

They both jump back, then freeze.

He reaches toward Y/N. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to."

“Get out. I mean it, Harry. And I don’t mean the kitchen. You leave this house. You leave this house now, and don’t come back.” Her words are low and deliberate as she stares at the floor.

“That was out of order what just happened. I'm sorry; you know I'd never lay a hand on you or do anything in the world to scare you. Don't know what came over me."

“I said get out.”

“Excuse me? Don’t come back to my own frickin' house? You've got to be kidding. I'm doing no such thing, Y/N. Will I go downstairs and stay in the entertainment room or sleep in the guest room? Sure. Will I take the kids out for the day? Sure. But leave? No. We’ve never spent one day apart in anger, and we aren’t starting now, so get that idea out of your little head.” He points to his temple, gritting his teeth.

“Fine, then I will.” She pushes him out of the way when she passes him to leave the kitchen.

Harry follows her. “You’ll what, Y/N?” He grabs her arm, attempting to stop her.

“Get your damn hand off of me, you big bully.” She jerks away, storming toward the bedroom.

Harry goes to the living room to get Lola. He hears their bedroom door slam. Poor girl is probably scared. She’s never heard people shout before, especially her mama or daddy. And now her mama says she’s leaving? The words don’t even sound right when Harry says them to himself. Harry approaches the bedroom, tapping on the door. “Y/N, the baby, it’s time for her feeding.”

She marches toward him and takes the baby. “Of course it is; one more thing your pathetic ass can't do around here. Now, get out." She pushes against the door.

Harry walks out and closes the door.

***

Downstairs, Harry talks to Poppy and Archie, making sure that if they heard the yelling, they aren't scared. "Arch, you okay, bud?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t look up just keeps playing with the Barbie and Ken dolls.

“Pop, you doing okay?"

“Yes, daddy. Are you?” She walks over and hugs his legs.

“Yes, baby, Daddy is fine. Are you guys in the mood for a trip to the zoo? Maybe some pizza and ice cream after?

“Yeah.” Poppy detaches herself from her daddy and jumps up and down.

“Can we go now?” Archer says, dropping the dolls and standing up.

"We can. Let's go get dressed, yeah?" Harry walks toward the stairs to the home's main floor.

The kids follow him up.

“Are mumma and the baby coming?” Poppy asks.

"Not sure, baby girl.”

Archer interjects. “If they’re gonna yell, I hope not."

Harry turns around. "There won't be any yelling, buddy, but that's not nice what you just said. We never say things like that, especially about your mummy or baby sister. We always want them included in whatever we do, always. Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.”

Archer is crying now. "Sorry, Daddy, I didn't mean it."

At the top landing of the stairs, Harry stops and kneels to Archer putting his arms around him. "Come here. Let's hug Daddy, yeah?"

Archer slowly puts his arms around Harry’s neck. “Didn’t mean it, Dad.”

"I know, buddy, we're all having a bad day, but what is the one, very most important rule in this house."

“Treat people with kindness.” Archer releases himself from the embrace.

"That's right, treat one another with kindness and love and goodness."

Archer sniffles. “I will.”

“All right, to our rooms, we go.” Harry leads the kids into the hall.

Harry feels like his heart just broke in two. The one thing they’d both agreed on before having kids is they would raise them in a peaceful home. They both came from divorced parents and knew what it was like when the family was immensely unhappy.

Harry ushers the kids to their rooms once back in the central portion of the house. "Okay, lollipop, do you need daddy's help getting dressed? Or do you want to try by yourself today?"

“I can do it, Daddy,” Poppy says. She pushes her blonde curls off her face.

"Good girl. Now, if you need me, call me, okay? And if you want something hanging up, remember no climbing; call for me, and I'll get it.” Harry pats her on the back.

“Okay.” Poppy skips to her room.

“Arch, do you need help?" Harry asks, following Archer as he walks to the room next to Poppy's.

“No, I got it.”

"Okay, guys, I'm going to help mummy with Lola. I'll be just down the hall."

Harry takes his time to get to the end of the hall. He taps on the door before entering. “Love?” He pokes his head in the door.

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.” She snuggles the baby closer as she nurses her.

“Gonna take the big kids to the zoo. Can I take Lola?”

"She's your baby too, Harry. Please don't ask me a question like that. Of course, you can take her.”

“All right, by the time I'm dressed, she should be finished, and I'll get her ready." Harry walks to the bathroom.

“Pretty sure I’m capable of getting my child dressed,” she mumbles.

Harry snaps around. "What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Y/N?" He's angry, but he keeps his voice down. "First, I do nothing, and then you pop off like that when I try to do something." Harry turns to walk back to the ensuite.

"Daddy's a grumpy pants, isn't he, baby girl? It's okay; you've got a mummy. She’ll take care of you, just like she always has.”

Harry stomps out of the bathroom, mouth full of toothpaste. “No, Y/N. No. You aren’t going to do that shit," he says, toothpaste foaming from his mouth as he flings the toothbrush and points it toward her.

She sighs. “Okay, Harry, whatever."

“Whatever? Whatever?” I’m done with this Y/N. Do what you will, hate me if you want, but don’t bad mouth me to our kids.” He walks again to the bathroom sink, and turns on the water, rinses his mouth out, dries it off.

“It’s not exactly like she understands what I’m saying.”

"Not exactly the point, Y/N.” He returns to the bedroom, then walks to the recliner, grabs a hoodie, and puts it on as he approaches the bed. "These babies are my entire life, Y/N. You know that, so think what you will of me as a husband, lover, and partner, but don’t you ever talk about me like that to our children.”

She’s burping the baby now, patting her on the back. “The kids are your entire life? I get it. Performing is your first love. No room for me.” She pulls her bottom lip in with her teeth and stares at nothing, looking at anything but Harry. Her eyes water, holding onto her tears.

Harry walks to her side of the bed. “You know that’s not what I meant, baby.” He sits on the bed next to her, his voice calmer now.

“No, I get it, Harry. Trust me, I do. I wouldn't blame you if you stopped loving and wanting me. Furthermore, why would you want any of this? I mean, look at this whole thing, and then there’s me. I’m a mess.”

“I’m looking at you. I see you. What are you talking about? And I love this mess, and I love you.” He places his hand on her knee. He pushes his eyebrows together and searches her face.

“It’s over, Harry.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You’re tired and frustrated, but that’s life. It’s not over.”

"It wasn't a question." She hands Lola to him and stands. She tugs at the bottom of her t-shirt, the shirt she borrowed from him when they were dating and never gave it back. It's faded and stretched out, a picture of One Direction but with the words Spice Girls written on it.

Harry says nothing and watches her. She walks to the closet, grumbles, and grunts, knocking about with a few curse words sprinkled in. Once she finds what she's looking for, she returns to the bedroom, drops a suitcase on the bed, and then unzips it.

"Y/N, baby, what are you doing?"

"I told you I'm leaving. You didn't think taking the kids to the zoo would stop that did you?"

“This is crazy. I’m gonna put Lola in her crib. I’ll be back.” Harry stands, walks across the room, and exits.

A few moments later, he returns. She removes clothes from the dresser. Harry approaches her and places his hand on her elbow. "Baby, let's talk about this. You can leave me, in theory, until we can figure something out, but you can't just walk out on the kids."

She shrugs him off her. “Don’t touch me. There is nothing to figure out, not between us. As for the kids, of course, I'm not leaving them forever, don't be so dramatic, but I am leaving for now."

She goes to the bathroom. Harry can hear her gathering items from the vanity. He sits on the bed, dropping his head in his hands, then lifts his head resting his fingers tips under his chin. He stares at two crayons on the floor under the dresser. He makes that his sole focus, unable to look at her when Y/N returns and tosses the cosmetics bag into the suitcase. She huffs and sighs.

“I might not help as much as I should. I get it, but this, this is one time I’m not lifting a finger to help you. So you can cut the sound effects.”

There’s a soft knock at the door before the handle turns, and small hands push the door open. “Daddy, are we going to the zoo?”

Tears have started to roll down Harry’s cheeks. He wipes his face and sniffs before Poppy comes in. “Yes, baby girl, but give Daddy a minute. Go play nice in your room. I’ll come to get you when it’s time. And Poppy, please wait to be invited in before opening the door. You know the rules.”

“Okay.” Satisfied, she pulls the door closed.

"You see that, Y/N. Our kids need us. Our kids know when something's wrong. They heard our shouting earlier. We can't do this around them." He stands and walks over to her. "Listen, let me call Mitch and Sarah, and see if they can take them for the night, yeah? Or Jeff and Glenne might not mind, then we'll get dressed, go have a nice dinner, come home, and relax, just the two of us.”

“Why so you can get laid, Harry?”

"Y/N, where is all of this coming from? That's the second time you've remarked that I’m somehow this sex-crazed maniac that has to jump through hoops to trick his wife into having sex with him, yet you also say there is no way I could still want you.”

She shoves sneakers into the suitcase. “Oh, believe me, I know you can find someone to have sex with, no doubt about that." She shakes her head and smirks. "Never had any problem getting that, did you?"

“What is wrong with you? Do you think I’ve been with someone else? Is that what’s got you like this?”

She continues throwing things in the suitcase, then zips it up. She returns to the closet, retrieves another bag, unzips it, kicks it along the floor, and continues packing. “I told you. I can’t do it anymore. I’m tired. I’m forgetful because I’m overwhelmed. Important things aren’t given their proper attention. I mess up more often than I will admit. This isn’t good.”

“If this is about going out of town on that girls’ trip, then go.” He extends his foot and closes the top of the luggage. “Have fun. Go, but don’t ruin our family just because you weren’t getting your way.”

“Fuck you, Harry. Because I wasn’t getting my way? It’s not that. It’s that it’s always about you. Always. It’s when are you leaving, when are you coming back, coming in late from the studio, FaceTiming at 3 AM just so I can see you and hear your voice, important events, meetings, everything is about you, and I'm sick of it. You know you're the one that wanted a third baby, or hell, a second baby, for that matter. I was happy when it was just the three of us, all traveling together, but you wanted a larger family, and as usual, I wanted to give you what you wanted.”

He stands next to her, reaches over and takes her face in his hands, and turns her toward him. He sees her face, but she’s a stranger. He hadn’t noticed the new lines between her eyebrows, the dark circles under her eyes, or the sallow shade of her skin. “Tell me you don't regret Poppy and Lola. Please tell me you don't regret those two perfect little girls. Because I love you, Y/N, but if you tell me you regret them, I can't forgive you. Ever.”

She pulls away. "I do regret the timing. I should've insisted you take a multi-year hiatus before expanding our family because I made my life worse to make your life better."

He drops his hands from her and walks across the room to the window, which overlooks the expansive garden below. “Worse? How could anything about those babies make your life worse? Take it back before I say something that can’t be unsaid.” You knew what you were signing up for, Y/N. You knew the life I live and how hard it would be, but you said ‘I do’, you agreed this was the life we would live,” he says.

“You don’t see that even then, it was about you. It was what I agreed to, but what about me? What did you agree to do for me? What sacrifices were you willing to make? I gave up my career, so I could give you a home, take care of the kids, and always be available to support you in anything you needed me to support you in, travel with you." Sitting on the bed, she shoves her legs into her denim flares and stands. She walks over to the dresser and retrieves a black sports bra.

Harry turns to her. "Okay, what do you need? What do you need my support with? Besides the house, the kids? What is it that you’re missing?

She removes her t-shirt and puts on the bra. "Everything."

“You've got to give me specifics, love. Have to help me here, at least with this. I can't read minds, baby. Believe me, if I could, this wouldn't be happening." He walks to her.

She pulls on a lightweight black sweater. "I need you to know me, Harry.” She goes back to the luggage, bends down, and zips closed the second bag. “I needed you to pay attention, to see that I’m drowning here.”

"Okay. We'll have the maid come more days during the week, and we'll get a sitter, nanny, or whatever will make life easier for you. After the three nights in Manchester, I'll devote my time to you. But I have a contract I have to do these nights in Manchester, besides it’s kind of home. We can stay at Mum’s. All of us go together.”

“It’s not just about the housework or the kids. And I don’t want to follow you to Manchester. I need you. I need a husband, a partner, not a sugar daddy who keeps knocking me up.”

“Oh, get off it. Lola's over a year old, and never do I push you for sex, not ever.”

“Whatever.” She pulls the two suitcases upright, rolls them to the door, exits, walks down the hall, and passes the three bedrooms along the corridor. She can't stop, or she'll never go; if she stays, she'll make things worse. She knows she's on the brink of breaking completely.

Harry is behind her.

They make it to the front door, and she slides her feet into her loafers. As she opens the door, she turns to him. "Everything you need to know about your kids is in a folder on my desk in the office. There’s frozen milk in the fridge.”

He reaches out, but she shakes her head. “Don’t.” She snatches her purse from the hook by the front door.

"Y/N, please, baby."

"Goodbye, Harry." With that, she steps out, dragging the luggage behind her. She doesn't look back.

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles new

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sissylittlefeather · 3 months

Text

Role Play Part 2: Clean or Dirty?

A/N: Well, I did it. I turned Good Cop, Bad Cop into a series 😂. So here's part 2! This one takes place in January of 1971 between Elvis and a fem!reader. This is intended to be pure fun, so I hope you enjoy it!

Here is the link to part 1.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also infidelity, he's definitely married

Word count: ~2.2k

After your romp with Elvis, you're pretty sure you'll never see him again, even though he seemed insistent that he'd find you. Still, you're surprised when a mysterious envelope shows up in your mailbox. When you get it inside and tear it open, you're absolutely shocked to find a plane ticket to Vegas and a ticket to Elvis's show at the International later in January. You dig through the envelope for some kind of letter, but all you find is a note that reads, "You pick the role play. -EP"

At first, you consider not going. He's married. But then you think about the way you felt when he fucked you, and even when he just looked at you. One more time wouldn't hurt anything, would it?

You look at the calendar and think about the arrangements that would need to be made to make it to the show. If you start now, you just might pull it off.

******

A few weeks later, you find yourself checking into your room at the still-new International hotel. Elvis has reserved a suite for you, so the bellhop brings your bag to the elevator and you make your way up. When you get to the room your jaw drops. The suite is enormous and decorated elaborately. You have a couple of hours before the show, so you get started on your hair and makeup. Once everything is perfect, you slip into the sequined blue and silver dress you've packed and head to the area where Elvis's concert will be. The usher takes you to a private table and you order a drink. You have a perfect view of the stage, which means he'll probably be able to see you too. You don't have much more time to think about it, though, because the music begins and the show starts.

You watch in amazement as he sings and dances and works the crowd in a way you've never seen before. About halfway through the third song, he looks to your booth and makes eye contact with you. Your heart leaps and he winks, smiling a warm, genuine smile. The show continues through the night and you're spellbound by him. He's incredible. And even if he doesn't come to you tonight, the trip will be worth it just to have seen him on stage. He winks at you a few more times throughout the evening, licking his lips flirtatiously and shaking his hips in your direction. Your heart skips every time and you feel yourself getting more and more turned on by the minute.

By the end of the night, you're really hoping that he will find his way to your suite at some point or you might have to take care of yourself. The wetness that's gathered between your legs is almost embarrassing.

******

When you get back to your suite, you make yourself a drink from the mini bar and sit on the couch. You're not sure how long you'll have to wait before he shows up, if he even does.

You look at the clock on the wall. It's almost 3am and you've already changed into the outfit you brought for your role play. You start to feel a little silly and just as you decide it's been long enough, there's a soft knock on the door.

Grabbing your prop, you go to the door and take a deep breath before opening it.

"Oh, Mr. Presley! You're home early!" You back up and let him walk into the room. His eyes travel slowly down your body, taking in your French maid costume, complete with white apron, lacy hat, and feather duster. "I haven't finished cleaning!"

You turn and bend over to dust the bottom of a table that's pushed up against the wall. His mouth drops open at the view of your ass peeking out from under your skirt. It's clear you aren't wearing any panties.

"I-I-it's fine. I can just hang out while you finish." You stand back up and he slides himself up behind you with his arms around your waist and looks at you in the mirror. "Y/n, honey, this is incredible."

He kisses the side of your neck just below your ear and you shiver.

"Don't break character."

"Yes ma'am." He unwraps himself from around you and makes his way to the couch to sit down. He's wearing a black suit with a yellow patterned shirt underneath, unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. Just the sight of him has you wet again, but you don't want to move too fast and ruin the illusion, so you continue to dust random things around the room, bending over periodically. He grunts and you see him adjust himself so that his cock is up under his belt.

Eventually, you make your way over to him and bend over directly in front of him. He sits forward and puts his hands on your ass. You jump up in false alarm.

"Sir! What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing, I just like the view." You giggle and go back to dusting, turning and acting like you're dusting something behind him. This puts your breasts directly in his face. He groans again and then places his hands on your hips.

"Sir?"

"You can call me Elvis." He whispers as he pulls you down to straddle his lap. You feel his hardness through his pants and your pussy clenches around nothing. "Do you mind if I touch you, honey?"

You smile demurely and bat your eyelashes.

"I work for you. I'm not sure it's appropriate." As you speak he leans forward and kisses your cleavage and then drags his tongue up to your neck where he kisses you again. "But if you're alright with it..." you answer breathily, not able to make anymore words.

He pulls your hips forward to roll into him as he nibbles on your earlobe.

"I'm alright with it. I wanna fuck you, y/n." You moan out loud with his words.

"I wanna let you." Without warning, he stands up and you wrap your legs around him to keep from falling. He holds onto your ass with both hands and carries you over to the bed.

He lays you down on it and then stands back up, removing his belt and jacket, letting them both fall to the floor. Then, he unbuttons his shirt and pants and lets them fall to the floor as well until he's standing there naked, cock bouncing. He slides both hands up your thighs and pushes your skirt up around your waist so that your whole bottom half is exposed to him. Getting down on his knees, he pulls you to the edge of the bed and moves your thighs to his shoulders. He leans forward and licks up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top. You gasp with the sensation of his tongue on your clit. He moves his tongue over and around you intentionally until you feel your orgasm rushing toward you. He stops for a second and pushes his tongue into you a few times before going back up to your sensitive bud.

"I know you're about to cum, honey. Just let go."

"Yes sir." He drags his tongue across you one last time and your climax explodes between your legs, shooting out to your fingertips and back again. Your release splashes out of you onto the bed and he laps at you eagerly.

"Good girl." He kisses your inner thigh and then nips at you gently. Standing up from his place on the floor, he strokes his cock several times, looking at you splayed out on the bed for him. He can't remember the last time he was this turned on- except for the last time he was with you. Something about you drives him absolutely crazy.

You sit up on your elbows and watch him as he looks at you and moves his hand up and down on himself.

"What?" You ask with a post-orgasm grin.

"Nothing. Don't break character." He says playfully mocking you from earlier.

The bed is tall enough that he doesn't have to bend down much to line himself up with you laying on the bed while he's standing next to it. He pulls your legs up so that your ankles are on his shoulders and pushes into you slowly. You feel yourself stretch around him and the pleasure is almost overwhelming. He begins to move faster, pumping in and out of you vigorously. While he pounds into you, he grabs one of your feet and kisses your ankle. You remembered how much he loved your toenails last time, so you made sure to have fresh polish again.

"Mmm. These sooties..." He looks down at you almost nervously. The familiar term just slipped out, which was unusual since he didn't typically use it with his short-term girls.

"I made sure they were pretty for you." When it doesn't bother you, he relaxes and goes back to fucking into you deeply. His length hits your sensitive spot with each thrust and you feel yourself crashing into another orgasm. He can tell you're getting close, so he takes one of your ankles in his hand and, lowering your leg, exposes your clit to him. Then, he licks his opposite thumb and uses it to rub circles on you as he slides in and out of you.

"Oh, God, Elvis!" You cry out as your climax slams into you from every direction and you cum hard on his dick. His own orgasm is coming quickly and he picks up his pace as it approaches.

"That's it, baby. Take this cock like a good girl." He says as he pounds into you rhythmically. In two more thrusts he shudders and fills you with warmth.

"Fuck, yes, y/n!" He pulls out of you and stumbles to lay next to you on the bed. You look at him as he lays there and think to yourself that you've never seen a more beautiful man.

"I fully intended to take that outfit off of you, but I didn't make it." He chuckles and turns to look at you.

"Eh, it added to the effect. I'm gonna take it off now, though. It's not exactly comfortable." He watches as you sit up and pull the dress over your head, leaving you as naked as he is. "I'll be right back."

You go to the bathroom and he gets up to, you assume, put his clothes back on. In the bathroom, you look in the mirror and assess how fucked out you look. You catch yourself wishing he could stay, but you know he probably can't and wouldn't even if he could.

"Don't try to make this more than it is." You whisper to yourself in the mirror and then walk out of the bathroom. When you get back to the room, though, you're shocked to find him situated in the bed under the covers, still naked.

"You don't have to leave?"

"Eventually. Come lay with me for a while, though." He pats the bed next to himself and you crawl in and snuggle up beside him. He wraps his arm around you and kisses your forehead, again in a gesture that's far too intimate.

"So do you actually have a maid?" You ask kind of off-hand, just to make conversation.

"I do now. I haven't always, though..." He launches into a monologue about what life was like for him growing up so poor. You respond appropriately, but mostly you just listen. He's not sure why he's telling you all of this, but for some reason it just feels good to talk to you. When he reaches the end of his speech, he picks up your hand and kisses your palm, talking into it.

"What about you?"

"Oh..." Without thinking too hard, you start telling him about your upbringing. You're surprised at how easy he is to talk to and how good of a listener he is. You didn't expect to talk to him this much, but before you know it, the sun is peeking in through your hotel room window and you're still naked, cuddled up and talking. He plays with your fingers the whole time and the comfort level between you grows exponentially.

Finally, he sighs deeply and looks to the window.

"I need to go, honey." He squeezes you and then slinks out of the bed to get dressed. You sit on the side of the bed and watch him, trying not to wish he wouldn't leave. Once he's dressed, he stands in front of you between your knees and runs his fingers through your hair. He doesn't want to leave, but he can't tell you that.

"Can I see you again?"

"You pick the scenario next time." He smiles warmly and wraps himself around you.

"I'll be in touch." He kisses your hair one last time and then makes his way to the door. Once he's walked through it, you lay back against the pillows and sigh. You cannot be having feelings for Elvis Presley.

But what you don't know is he's outside your hotel room door leaning his head against the wall, thinking the exact same thing about you.

******

Part 3 soon? Maybe?

Do we want it?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @tacozebra051 @rjmartin11

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic

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