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jungkoode · 1 month ago

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死 KKANGPAE | #18 死

† procurement †

"Waking up in his bed should feel like victory, but all you can think about are those pill bottles on his nightstand."

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⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 9,5k

content: morning vulnerability and insomnia revelations, elevator sexual tension that goes nowhere, council meeting drama with heated arguments, mission prep with jessi's weapons expertise, undercover outfits that make jeon stare, AD's suspicious surveillance knowledge, and the calm before infiltrating mdf territory

☠ author's note ☠

As a European, I have absolutely no clue about guns so let's hope my research was decent and their weapons actually make sense ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) If any gun enthusiasts are reading this and I've somehow made a sniper rifle that shoots rainbows, just... pretend it's for the plot.

ANYWAY THE BIG DAY IS FINALLY HERE!!! Next chapter is THE MISSION and are we excited??? Because I AMMMMM!!! I've been building up to this for literal months and my chaotic little writer brain is VIBRATING with anticipation!

Jeon + motorbike = HOT AS HELL 🥵 Like sir, you're already dangerous enough, did you really need to add vehicular competence to your list of attractive qualities? RUDE.

Also Jessi is so mother mommy mama I love her! I mean, I say that about every single one of my characters, don't I? But what can I do—they're all so complex in my opinion! I have to really put myself in their position in every single scene and think genuinely about how they would react. Because one thing is how I WANT them to react, and another is how they would REALISTICALLY react, you know? Keeping those two aligned is harder than it looks, trust me!

Anyway ramble ramble ramble shut up Kiki we don't care—I KNOW BUT I'M THE AUTHOR so you're gonna read my rambling because I said so! I don't write 8k words per chapter to have my feelings dismissed! Y'all gonna put up with me whether you like it or not (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

Thanks for reading as always, love y'all! Now buckle up because things are about to get SPICY!

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎.

The obnoxious blaring of Jeon's alarm tears through the quiet morning.

It's 6 AM—that weird time when everything feels kind of hazy and unreal, like the world hasn't quite decided if it's night or day yet.

His phone keeps buzzing against the nightstand, screen lighting up like a strobe light.

You're barely awake, caught in that fuzzy space between sleep and consciousness. Jeon's sprawled half on top of you, which should probably be uncomfortable but... isn't. His arm's thrown over your waist in this weirdly soft way that doesn't match his usual don't-touch-me vibe. You can feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

For a second, you think about waking him up. But he looks so p̶e̶a̶c̶e̶f̶u̶l̶ different when he's sleeping—none of that cold, distant Chief of Tactical stuff.

Just a guy who really needs some rest.

"Jeon," you try anyway, voice coming out all scratchy from sleep. "Your alarm."

He makes this grunt that might be words but definitely isn't, face pressed against your skin. Instead of getting up, he actually pulls you closer, burying his face in the pillow like if he ignores the alarm hard enough, it'll give up and go away.

"Jeon, come on. Get it." You nudge him with your elbow because that fucking alarm is driving you insane. It just keeps going and going, like some kind of electronic torture device.

He lets out this long-suffering groan that perfectly captures the eternal struggle between wanting to sleep and having actual responsibilities.

His hand flops around looking for his phone, movements all clumsy in that way people only get when they're not really awake yet. When he finally finds it, he misses the screen completely on his first try.

"Fuck off," he mumbles—definitely talking to the phone, not you. The woodsy scent of his skin mixed with mint from his breath fills your lungs.

After what feels like forever (but is probably like, ten seconds), blessed silence falls over the room.

Jeon just tosses his phone somewhere (hopefully not off the bed) and immediately curls back around you like some kind of clingy octopus. His body's radiating heat like a furnace, and he's definitely not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

His aura wraps around you like summer rain, all soft and warm, making your head spin in the best way.

(You're starting to think maybe he's not a morning person.)

"Five more minutes," he mumbles, voice all rough and sleepy like some kid who doesn't want to go to school.

You can't help but smirk.

Who would've thought the terrifying Chief of Tactical was such a baby in the morning?

"Five more minutes, and you'll be the one explaining to the Council why you're late." You poke his side. "Good luck with that."

"What council?" He sounds like he's halfway to dreamland already.

"Council of 9, dumbass. You know, that super important reunion about tonight's mission?"

His only response is this little grunt before his breathing starts evening out again.

Oh no. Not happening.

You kick him under the sheets—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to be annoying. He flinches and makes this annoyed clicking sound with his tongue.

Finally, with this dramatic sigh that you can feel rumble through his chest, he gives in. His body peels away from yours like it's physically painful for him to move.

"Fine, fine," he grumbles, surrendering to reality.

When he sits up, cold air rushes in where his body heat used to be. You both kind of... linger there on the edge of his bed.

You watch him rub his face, trying to wake up properly. It's kind of fascinating, seeing him switch from s̶o̶f̶t̶ sleepy Jungkook back to Jeon, the cold and distant Chief of Tactical.

Another yawn catches you as you sit up, letting the sheets pool around your waist. You blink, trying to clear the sleep from your eyes, when something on Jeon's bedside table catches your attention.

Oh.

There's a whole fucking pharmacy there.

Your eyes scan over the labels—hypnotics, sedatives, tranquilizers, sleeping pills. The kind of cocktail someone needs when sleep doesn't come naturally anymore.

It hits different now, remembering all those times you've seen him in the cafeteria at ass o'clock in the morning. Always with that black coffee, those dark circles under his eyes that you thought were just part of his whole intimidating Chief of Tactical thing.

(Turns out even the great Jeon Jungkook has trouble sleeping.)

You can't help but wonder what keeps him up at night. What kind of memories play on repeat in his head when everything goes quiet.

Sure, being a gang leader comes with its own baggage—the violence, the paranoia, always having to watch your back.

But something tells you there's more to it. Things that left marks deeper than the little scar on his cheek. The kind of stuff that makes someone stock up on enough sedatives to knock out a horse.

Your eyes fix on this one bottle of hypnotics that's already half empty. Something in your chest tightens at the sight, but you quickly squash that feeling down.

The last thing Jeon needs is your p̶i̶t̶y̶ concern.

You know how this works. Show any weakness in Kkangpae, and you might as well paint a target on your back. The gang's full of sharks, always circling, always waiting for someone to bleed in the water.

So you bite back all the questions building up in your throat. Push down that weird urge to reach out, to try and make it better somehow.

Whatever demons Jeon's fighting, they're his to deal with.

You've got your own role to play here, and playing therapist isn't it. Some things just stay broken, and some nights just stay sleepless.

And some things are not yours to fix, even if some part of you wants to.

"You ready?" Jeon asks, already heading for the door without waiting to hear if you actually are.

You follow him out with a quiet sigh, but your mind's still stuck on all those pill bottles.

On what they might mean.

On all the nights he probably spends staring at his ceiling, fighting whatever demons keep him up.

The common areas in his wing of the Assassination Division are empty this early.

Your footsteps echo through the halls as you make your way to the elevator, where Jeon leans against the wall like he's got all day. He crosses his arms over his chest, getting lost in whatever thoughts are running through that complicated head of his.

When he doesn't move to actually do anything, you have to remind him that not everyone has his fancy Chief clearance level.

"You gonna scan your card or what?" You wave vaguely at the scanner. "You know mine won't work up here."

The corner of his mouth twitches up—just barely—like he's annoyed at himself for forgetting.

He pulls out his access card without a word and taps it against the scanner. The light blinks green, and the elevator starts moving.

While you're waiting, your brain decides to dig up this random memory from weeks ago.

That night Jeon showed up at your door out of nowhere, demanding his jacket back. You hadn't thought about it then, but now...

"Hey," you turn to look at him, "how did you get on my floor that night? To get your jacket back?" The question hits you out of nowhere. "Our cards don't work on each other's floors."

His eyes go wide for a split second—clearly not expecting that question. He just stares at you for a moment, lips parted like he's trying to figure out what to say. Then his gaze darts away and he rubs the back of his neck, which is basically a flashing neon sign that says busted.

(This should be interesting.)

"I, uh..." Jeon starts, looking at you then quickly away. He's actually struggling for words, which is new.

His fingers tap against his thigh in this nervous rhythm you've never seen before. Just when you think he's going to leave you hanging, he lets out this tiny sigh, shoulders dropping just a bit.

"I asked AD for temporary access."

Wait. What?

"And he... just gave it to you? Just like that?"

You narrow your eyes because something's not adding up here.

You've seen how these two interact—or don't interact, more like it. The way Jeon basically disappears whenever AD shows up, and how AD looks at him like he's personally offended his entire bloodline.

Sure, AD glares at everyone (especially J-Hope), but with Jeon? That's a whole different level of hate.

(Not that it's any of your business what's going on there.)

"Told him I needed my jacket back."

The elevator keeps moving down, and the silence between you gets kind of heavy. Something about how weirdly hesitant Jeon's being makes your curiosity spike. Part of you knows you should probably drop it, but...

"So, your card worked the whole night?" You try to sound casual about it, but there's definitely some skepticism bleeding through.

"Yeah." He finally meets your eyes again. "Clearance passes usually last for 24 hours."

You nod slowly, filing that information away.

"But didn't AD find it weird? The time stamp would show you came in at 3 AM and didn't leave until..." You trail off, remembering exactly why he stayed so long.

Jeon's eyes snap to yours, and something flashes across his face too quick to read before he looks away. The crease between his brows gets deeper as the silence stretches out.

"I don't think he actually checks the access logs that closely," he says finally. "At least he hasn't mentioned anything about the, uh, timeframe."

You think about that for a second. It seems weird that AD, of all people, wouldn't keep tabs on security access. But maybe Jeon's right—maybe AD doesn't actually monitor that stuff.

Then you remember something.

That day after the pool training, you saw AD in the elevator with Kazuha. He'd told you both to "be careful."

Was that his cryptic way of saying he knew exactly what went down that night?

The elevator dings, cutting through your thoughts.

Jeon pushes off the wall, giving you this little nod to go in first. You step inside, and the last thing you see is his back and this lazy wave goodbye before the doors slide shut.

Anyway, something tells you AD knows way more than he lets on.

You’d never been in The Council room until now.

And it’s… Well, it’s weird. Tense today.

Everyone's taking their usual spots around this stupidly long table, and RM's at the head of it like always, looking every bit the Supreme Commander he is.

"Thanks for coming, everyone." His voice carries that authority that makes even the most stubborn chiefs shut up and listen.

Well, almost everyone.

"I don't even see why I have to be here when you're all so set on leaving me out of it." V's practically radiating annoyance.

Moon gives him that patient look he reserves for when someone's being difficult. "This mission affects the entire gang. That's why we need the whole Council present."

"But I'm not even part of it." V throws his feet up on the table like the dramatic bitch he is, crossing his arms. "So why do I have to sit through all this bullshit?"

"You listen because shared knowledge makes us stronger." RM's eyes sweep around the table, meeting everyone's gaze—even yours. "Unity isn't just about standing together. It's about thinking as one."

V rolls his eyes so hard you're surprised they don't get stuck. "Yeah, yeah, I get the whole 'one gang' thing. But do I really need every fucking detail?"

"Details matter." Jeon's voice cuts through the tension. "MDF isn't some amateur operation. One tiny blind spot and we're fucked."

"It's a goddamn snake pit we're walking into." J-Hope waves his hands around like he's trying to grab invisible dangers out of the air. "We all need to know what kind of poison we might be dealing with."

JM leans forward, all serious despite his usually gentle demeanor. "That hideout's a maze. You two need more than just a way in—you need a solid plan to get the fuck out of there."

"Exactly." RM's sighs. "This intel could change everything. We do this right, we take out one of their major operations."

Flower, who's been watching everything with that calculating look of hers, finally speaks up. "And V, whether you like it or not, this meeting is what keeps your men at the docks from getting caught with their pants down while we're focused on this mission."

V scoffs, but you can see him actually considering her words.

Jessi stops lounging in her chair like this is some kind of casual meetup.

"Alright, cut the bullshit. What's the actual plan here, RM?" She leans forward, all business now. "And it better be good."

The room goes quiet—that heavy kind of quiet that makes your skin prickle.

RM stands up, and you can feel the weight of what's coming.

This isn't just another mission briefing. This is you and Jeon walking straight into MDF territory.

No pressure.

RM clears his throat, looking down at the stack of papers in front of him.

"Here's how it's going to work," he starts, voice authoritative. "Jeon and Y/N are going undercover. We've got IDs that'll get them through MDF's front door."

The word 'undercover' makes your stomach do this weird flip thing. Jeon shifts slightly beside you, his presence weirdly reassuring for someone who's usually about as comforting as a loaded gun.

"They'll play it as traders," RM continues, spreading out this map that looks like someone went crazy with a red marker. "Fresh faces trying to make it big enough to catch MDF's attention."

Jeon nods, watching AD's finger trace some path on the map. "What about their security? Cameras?"

"System loops every three hours," AD says, sounding bored but you know that's just his thing. "We're setting up a distraction. At 23:00, when the loop starts, they'll get a power surge. Six minutes of blind spots."

"Six minutes?" Jessi raises an eyebrow. "That's cutting it real fucking close."

"We can handle it." Jeon sounds so sure it actually makes you believe him. "Had worse timeframes before."

"That's your window to find the server room and plant the bug." RM points to some spot deep in what looks like a maze. "AD will be in your ear the whole time."

"And when shit inevitably goes sideways?" V asks, and despite how pissy he's been about being left out, you can hear actual braincells there.

"You'll be armed," RM says simply. "But this is about getting in and out quiet. No firefights."

"Right, because stealth missions should totally go to Mr. Shoot-Everything-From-A-Mile-Away instead of, oh, I don't know, the actual Chief of Stealth?" V's voice drips sarcasm.

"V." JM's cuts in. "Enough."

V grunts but actually shuts up, which is kind of impressive. You've never seen anyone else get him to back down that easily.

Flower leans forward, and the room suddenly feels a bit colder. The map spread out on the table looks like some kind of twisted treasure map, except instead of X marking the spot, there's about fifty different ways this whole thing could go wrong.

"Alright, here's the deal," she says, getting straight to the point like always. "You need to be interesting enough to catch their attention, but not so interesting they get suspicious. Think you can handle that?"

She looks right at you, and you can feel the weight of what she's asking.

"Y/N, you're our front person here. While everyone's busy watching you sweet-talk them about money and deals, Jeon's gonna be doing the actual work." Her lips curve into this knowing smile. "Keep them focused on the profit. Rich assholes love talking about money."

Great. No pressure or anything. Just gotta be charming enough to distract an entire criminal organization while your... whatever Jeon is sneaks around their base. Easy peasy.

Flower turns to Jeon next, and her expression goes all business.

"You're playing backup dancer on this one. Stay in the background, watch everything, and when AD hits them with that power surge? That's your window. Get the bug planted without anyone noticing."

The room goes quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Everyone's thinking the same thing—one tiny mistake and this whole plan goes up in smoke.

"Remember," Flower says, voice serious, "this isn't about showing off. It's about getting in, getting it done, and getting out without anyone realizing what happened."

"And more importantly," RM cuts in, giving you and Jeon a look, "don't fucking die. The intel's not worth either of you."

"What about communication?" you ask, because there's one pretty big hole in this plan. "We can't exactly text each other in there."

"Subvocals," AD doesn't look up from his laptop, but his voice carries that bored confidence that means he knows exactly what he's talking about. "Basically fancy mics that pick up whispers. We'll hear everything, but you two can talk without anyone else noticing. Plus, we'll feed you intel as we get it. Just keep it quiet and you'll be fine."

V lets out this little laugh, eyes twinkling like he knows something no one else does. "Sure putting a lot of faith in luck here, aren't we?"

"Luck's got nothing to do with it." RM's interjects. "This is about being prepared, being skilled, and getting shit done. Don't forget who we are. What Kkangpae stands for."

The room goes quiet again. Then, he continues speaking:

"Once you get that bug planted and grab whatever intel you can, you get out. We're not starting a war. Not yet."

Then Jeon turns to look at you, all Chief-of-Tactical mode.

Stormy.

"We split up as soon as we're inside," he says, voice gone all hard and professional. "Cover more ground, draw less attention."

"Yeah, no." You don't even hesitate to shut that down. The plan's crystal clear in your head. "We stick together, follow the script. Only split when the power goes out. That's the signal."

He scoffs—actually scoffs—and crosses his arms. "You really think playing follow-the-leader's gonna work that long? We're wasting time the second we walk in. Better to improvise early."

"We're not there to improvise," you snap back, getting annoyed now. The air's starting to feel like a brewing thunderstorm. "We have a plan for a fucking reason, Jeon. The power surge is our cover. Until then, you're stuck with me."

His jaw does that tightening thing it does when someone challenges him.

Chief or not, you're not backing down on this.

"A package deal that screams 'we're obviously here to fuck shit up'." He's practically radiating frustration. "Splitting up makes more sense. It's tactical."

"It's reckless," you cut in, meeting his intensity head-on. "Since when do we pick 'making sense' over actually being smart about this? We split up before the power cut, and we're basically painting targets on our backs."

You can feel everyone in the room watching this verbal sparring match in slight disbelief.

"You're not fucking listening—" Jeon leans into your space.

"Because what you're saying is bullshit," you snap back, refusing to be intimidated even though he's practically looming over you. "We go in toge—"

"Too risky. We split up, maximize our—"

"—chances of getting our asses caught!" You talk right over him, blood rushing hot in your veins. "We stick to the fucking pla—"

"Which is basically asking to get pinched if we're joined at the hip," he fires back, and god, his voice shouldn't sound that hot when he's being this infuriating.

"Oh, and you think going rogue is the ans—"

"It's called thinking on your feet, sunshine. Maybe try it some—"

"Save the condescending shit," you cut in, sharp enough to draw blood. "We're not there to show—"

"—that we're fucking amateurs!" He's almost growling now, and the sound does things to you that you really don't want to examine.

Your voices keep rising, cutting each other off in this heated back-and-forth that's starting to feel less like an argument and more like foreplay.

"Enough." RM's voice drops like a bucket of cold water.

You and Jeon both shut up instantly, turning to face him like scolded kids.

The whole room goes dead quiet, everyone waiting to see how the Supreme Commander's going to handle this.

"Y/N's right," RM cuts in, voice carrying that don't-fuck-with-me tone whilst his eyes bounce between you and Jeon as he speaks. "We made this plan accounting for every possible fuck-up. You go in together, no improvising. The power surge is your cue. Until then, you're just a couple of traders looking to make a deal. We can't afford any slip-ups."

The way he says it leaves no room for argument. You can see Jeon's shoulders drop just a tiny bit, like he's accepting defeat but doesn't want to show it.

"Got it," you nod, trying to look all professional and shit.

Like you didn't just get into a verbal sparring match with your Chief in front of the whole Council.

Jeon takes a second, then gives this little nod that looks like it physically pains him.

"Understood," he echoes, finally looking at you.

And so there’s this weird moment where you're both just... staring at each other; as if calling a truce without actually saying anything.

As RM dismisses everyone, you feel that rush of adrenaline from arguing start to fade. Your shoulders relax, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Right. This whole mission is riding on you and Jeon not fucking it up by going off-script.

You can feel Jeon next to you, his whole vibe changing. He's still got that unreadable expression, but he doesn't look ready to fight anymore.

Before you can make your grand exit, Jessi's voice cuts through the room, making both of you plant your feet on the ground.

"Don't worry, you two. All that sexual tension will make for some hot angry fucking after the mission." She winks at you both like she just said something clever instead of mortifying.

"That's not—we're not—" You start sputtering like an idiot, feeling your face go red.

"Ridiculous," Jeon snaps at the same time, scowling like Jessi just insulted his sniper skills or something.

Jessi just smirks, looking way too pleased with herself. "Whatever you say, lovebirds. Just come by my division after lunch. Gotta get you kitted out for this little adventure."

You open your mouth to tell her exactly where she can shove her assumptions, but she keeps talking.

"AD's gonna set up your access, so don't be late!" And with that, she struts out of the room like she owns the place.

You take a deep breath, trying to get your shit together.

Without a word, you and Jeon turn to leave.

There's still a ton of prep to do for this mission, and you'd rather face MDF unarmed than spend another second in this room with everyone's eyes on you.

The elevator feels way too empty when it’s only you and Jeon in it.

Trapped in a metal box after whatever that disaster of a Council meeting was.

The silence feels heavy, like all that heated arguing is still buzzing in the air.

You stand there trying to look casual, watching the floor numbers tick down like they're the most interesting thing you've ever seen.

But you can't help noticing how Jeon's jaw is doing that clenching thing again, his lips pressed together so tight they're practically disappearing. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and his whole body's radiating tension like a coiled spring.

The silence is driving you insane.

So of course, before your brain can stop your mouth, you blurt out: "Just so we're clear, we are not having hot angry sex after this mission."

Great going girl. 10/10.

Jeon's head snaps toward you so fast you're worried he might get whiplash. One eyebrow shoots up in surprise, but then—oh—his expression shifts into that infuriating smirk.

"Aw, you sound disappointed," he says, voice dropping into that low, teasing register that definitely doesn't make your stomach flip.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as dramatically as possible. "Yeah, like I was last night."

"Excuse me?" The look of pure indignation on his face is actually priceless. "Pretty sure I had you begging."

"Begging?" You let out a laugh. "More like pointing out how fucking slow you were being."

You're going for casual disinterest, but the memories from last night keep trying to make your face heat up.

He actually laughs at that—this sharp, sudden sound that bounces off the elevator walls.

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now? Because I remember it more like... payback. For all that teasing." His eyes drop to your ass for a second. "Bending over until I couldn't take it anymore..."

You cross your arms, leaning back against the wall like this conversation isn't affecting you at all.

"That wasn't teasing. That was strategic mission preparation." You can't help the sly smile that creeps onto your face. "Besides, you're the one who changed the sleeping arrangement to fucking."

"A strategic move, huh?" His mouth does that little twitch that means he's trying not to smile. "Well, it fucking worked."

"Yeah, you broke so easily." You roll your eyes, but you can feel yourself starting to smile too. "Just for sex"

"Pretty damn good sex, if I might add." He says it like he's stating the weather, but that smirk is getting bigger.

Before you can even process what's happening, his hand shoots out to the elevator panel. The emergency stop button makes this loud clicking sound, and the whole thing jerks to a halt with this deep rumble that you feel in your bones.

Suddenly the space feels way too small, and all you can hear is your own breathing getting heavier.

Yeah. Yeah, he’s stopped the fucking elevator.

"What the actual fuck, Jeon?" You try to sound annoyed, but the words get stuck in your throat because he's moving into your space like he owns it, like he has every right to be this close.

Then you're trapped between his arms and the cold elevator wall, and fuck—the way he's looking at you makes you feel naked already.

Your heart's going crazy in your chest, completely betraying how irritated you're pretending to be. Heat starts pooling between your legs, and it's honestly embarrassing how quickly your body responds to him.

"We can't—" Your voice comes out all breathy and pathetic. "We can't do this here."

The smile he gives you is pure sin as he leans in closer, close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, static wrapping around you, making it hard to think straight.

"Why not?"

"Because we're in a fucking elevator—"

"No cameras." He cuts you off like he's been waiting for this excuse.

You try to swallow but your throat's gone dry. Your sling feels itchy against your skin, probably because your whole body's remembering what happened last night.

"People are gonna notice if the elevator's stuck—"

"Maintenance issue." He says it so fast you know he's thought about this before.

"Jeon—" You start to argue, but then his eyes drop to your mouth and your brain just... stops working.

You know you should push him away. That's what any sane person would do. But there's something about Jeon that makes your brain stop working right—like a magnet pulling you in no matter how hard you try to resist. Every cell in your body is screaming at you to just grab him and kiss him already.

Right when you're about to say fuck it and give in, he pulls back.

And the look in his eyes? Pure evil, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Sunshine," he practically purrs, voice gone all low and rough in a way that makes heat pool in your stomach, "you're too eager."

The elevator dings, saving you from doing something stupid.

He steps out onto his floor without another word, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face like he just won something.

You slump against the wall the second the doors close, letting out this huge breath you didn't even realize you were holding

As the elevator keeps moving, the whole thing feels kind of surreal—like maybe you imagined him pressing you up against the wall and looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

But the way your skin's still tingling tells you it definitely happened.

When the doors open on your floor, it's like stepping back into the real world.

One where you need to figure out what the hell to tell Yunjin about where you've been all night. She's way too perceptive for her own good, and she definitely noticed you didn't come to your room to sleep.

You walk to your room trying to come up with something believable.

Maybe you were up all night studying mission plans? Or got restless and went wandering around the common areas?

Your brain's still kind of fuzzy from having Jeon all up in your space, which isn't helping with the whole creative lying thing.

But when you push open your door, Yunjin spins around like she's been caught doing something wrong. Her eyes are all wide and guilty, and before you can even open your mouth to make up some excuse about where you've been, she starts talking.

"Okay, before you give me shit for not sleeping here last night—" The words come tumbling out of her like she can't get them out fast enough. "You won't believe what happened. I was just gonna have a few drinks with V, you know, just to chill..."

Well. You surely didn't expect that.

You stand there trying to process the flood of information Yunjin's dumping on you. She's so caught up in her story she doesn't even notice your brain short-circuiting.

"And I know we said to stay away from V's whole... thing, but fuck—" She's practically vibrating with excitement. "We've been dancing around each other for weeks, and last night was just—"

"Yunjin, hold up." You raise a hand to stop her word-vomit. "Are you telling me you spent the night with V? Like, you and V actually—"

You don't finish the sentence because honestly, you don't need to. The implication is heavy enough to sink a ship.

She bites her lip and nods, looking somewhere between guilty and smug.

"Yeah, we fucked..." Her voice trails off before picking right back up. "And let me tell you, it was good. Like, he's not even into all that scary shit everyone thinks he is? But his chaotic energy definitely carries over to bed, god, if you only knew—"

You can't help the snort spreading across your face.

Here you were worrying about how to explain your own night away, and Yunjin's gone and done the exact same thing.

There's something kind of poetic about both of you getting tangled up with people you definitely shouldn't be touching.

A laugh bubbles up in your throat. "Okay, spare me the details. But I'm glad you had fun with your psychopath."

"It was actually really nice?" She's got this dreamy look that would be cute if she wasn't talking about the gang's resident knife enthusiast. "I know we said getting involved with him was a bad idea, but..."

She shrugs, looking almost shy.

"Sometimes you can't help who you want to climb like a tree."

You nod because fuck—isn't that the truth? Your body's still kind of sore from climbing your own dangerous tree last night.

Quick thinking has you saying, "I had an early Council meeting about the mission."

It's not exactly a lie. You did have a meeting. The fact that you came straight from Jeon's bed to it is just... details.

Yunjin seems to buy it, but then her eyes narrow and this little smirk appears on her face.

"Speaking of details... that shirt looks a bit big on you." She eyes the obviously oversized fabric. "Almost like it belongs to someone else. Someone tall, maybe? Tattooed?"

Heat creeps up your neck as you tug at the shirt that definitely belongs to Jeon.

"It's just comfortable," you mutter, but even you don't believe that weak excuse.

"Sure it is." Yunjin's laugh is rather a sneer. "Tell Jeon I said hi."

She throws you a wink and you roll your eyes, but you can't quite fight the smile tugging at your lips.

At least you're not the only one fucking a chief.

The scanner actually flashes green when you swipe your card, which is weird.

Usually you only get access to the Seduction floor and common areas, but apparently Jessi wasn't kidding about AD setting up clearance to her realm for you.

You hit the button for the 9th floor and watch the numbers tick up.

The doors slide open to a completely different vibe from what you're used to.

Gone is all that minimalist tech stuff from AD's floor or the sterile efficiency of Assassination.

The Weapons Division looks exactly like what it is—a place that deals in death. The lights are dim, pipes running everywhere like exposed veins, and the floor's just straight-up concrete. No fancy finishes here.

You've maybe been here like, three times? And every visit feels like stepping into some alternate universe inside Kkangpae's castle. The contrast between this and your division's sleek aesthetic is wild.

"Well, well, look who we have here!"

The voice booms through the hallway, making you jump.

You turn to find this huge guy with a green mullet heading your way, covered in neck tattoos that probably tell some interesting stories. You're pretty sure his name is Jae? He's Jessi's second-in-command, but you've barely exchanged two words with him before.

Not that you'd know it from how he grins at you like you're old friends.

"Jessi's waiting on you," he says, slapping your back hard enough to make you stumble forward. (What is it with these Weapons Division people and casual violence?) "Come on, can't keep the boss lady hanging."

You follow Mullet Man through these massive double doors and holy shit—the weapons depot is huge. The ceiling's so high it's got actual walkways crisscrossing it, leading to what looks like storage units. Every table is packed with enough firepower to start a small war: rifles, handguns, knives, stuff you don't even have names for.

Jessi's off to one side, checking out this fancy-looking automatic rifle like she's shopping for groceries. Her fiery aura fills the space with heating energy.

When she spots you, those red lips curl into this knowing smirk that makes you kind of nervous.

"Right on time," she says, putting down the gun like it's no big deal. "Now we just gotta wait for lover boy to complete the set."

Jae throws up this exaggerated salute and swaggers off, leaving you perched on a nearby stool while Jessi's aura dances around like actual flames.

Jessi leans back against one of the weapon-covered tables, arms crossed and this knowing look in her eyes that makes you kind of nervous.

"That was quite the show this morning. Never seen Jeon actually engage like that before."

"What do you mean?" You frown, thinking about how often Jeon and V are at each other's throats. "He fights with V all the time."

"Nah, that's different." She shakes her head, red hair swaying. "When he fights with V, it's all explosions and death threats. Pure chaos."

Her hands make this exaggerated boom motion.

"But this morning? That was like... verbal foreplay. He was actually in there with you, giving as good as he got."

You think about that for a second.

Now that she mentions it, Jeon does usually just... shut down when other people try to argue with him. Goes all cold and distant, like he can't be bothered to even engage.

But this morning he was right there with you, matching your energy blow for blow.

"Huh." The realization hits you harder than it probably should. "He's not usually much for back-and-forth, is he?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Jessi looks way too pleased with herself. "That emotionally constipated asshole usually keeps everyone at a distance. But you?" She wiggles her eyebrows in this ridiculous way. "Something's different..."

Your face heats up because fuck—she's not wrong. But you are absolutely not having this conversation right now.

"So anyway," you say quickly, probably not as smooth as you think, "what kind of gear are we talking about here?"

Jessi's smirk says she knows exactly what you're doing, but she lets it slide.

Instead, she turns to this impressive spread of weapons and gadgets laid out on the table. Some of them look deadly enough to make you nervous just looking at them.

"Only the best for our star infiltration team," she says, sounding like a proud mom showing off her kid's artwork. "Let's talk comm units first..."

Then, you catch it.

That woodsy, pine scent that clings to him like his leather jacket.

You don’t even need to turn around to know it’s him.

Jeon appears in the doorway looking unfairly good in his all-black everything, like some kind of high-fashion assassin.

When his eyes find you and Jessi, one eyebrow goes up.

"Starting without me?" His voice is dry as desert.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Jessi's teasing, but then her expression turns into something more devious. "I was just telling your partner here how I've never seen you get so fired up before. Something about her really pushes your buttons, huh?"

You kind of want to melt into the concrete floor. Leave it to Jessi to stir shit up just because she can.

But Jeon just shrugs, cool as ever.

"Just discussing strategy." His voice gives absolutely nothing away, which is honestly impressive considering how heated he got earlier.

Jessi looks kind of disappointed that she couldn't get a reaction out of him. Classic Jeon, refusing to take the bait. She lets out this dramatic sigh and turns back to all the gear spread out on the table.

"Well, now that his highness has graced us with his presence," she says, standing up with that natural grace she has, "let's get you both looking the part. Can't have you walking into MDF territory looking like gang members, can we?"

You follow her through the rows of weapons and equipment. It's kind of amazing how she knows exactly where everything is in this massive space. Her energy is contagious—she's clearly in her element here, surrounded by all these tools of destruction.

The weapons depot starts feeling less like an armory and more like some underground fashion studio as you walk deeper in.

Because of course, procurement doesn’t only mean weapons and human resource.

Apparently, it also means Jessi has a pass to turn a room full of deadly weapons into her personal styling space.

There's this sectioned-off area that looks like a makeshift dressing room, complete with different fabrics hanging everywhere.

"Over here, Jeon." Jessi's voice has that tone that means she's already planning something. She looks him up and down like she's mentally redesigning his whole outfit.

Jeon follows her, trying to look like he's not into it, but you can see the interest in his eyes. You hang back a bit, kind of enjoying watching him get the Jessi treatment.

Jessi starts pulling stuff from these racks that look like someone couldn't decide if they were making tactical gear or runway fashion. Every piece somehow manages to be both bulletproof and stupidly stylish.

First up for Jeon: this black suit that catches the light in a way that's definitely not standard issue.

"Put this on," she tells him, shoving the suit in his hands. "It's reinforced—won't stop a bullet, but a knife won't get through."

He disappears behind this makeshift changing screen, and you're definitely not counting the seconds until he comes back out.

When he does, though... fuck.

The suit fits him like it was painted on, showing off all those muscles you're way too familiar with now. The jacket makes his shoulders look even broader, and the pants are doing criminal things to his legs. He looks like he walked straight out of some high-end assassin movie.

"You could probably kill someone just by walking into a room looking like that," you say before you can stop yourself. Your voice definitely doesn't sound as casual as you meant it to.

The smug bastard actually smirks at that. "Wouldn't be the first time."

But Jessi's not having it. She shakes her head, looking at him like an artist who's not quite happy with their work.

"Too polished. We need dangerous, not James Bond. Try this instead."

She pulls out this whole new look: leather jacket that probably costs more than anything you own (which is not much), deep maroon shirt that's somehow both simple and expensive-looking, and black jeans that you just know are going to be trouble.

When he steps out this time, his whole aura shifts.

The leather sits on his shoulders like it belongs there, and that hint of maroon under all the black just... works.

He looks like someone who could sweet-talk his way into a deal and then burn the whole place down if it goes wrong.

"Now that's more like it," Jessi says, looking satisfied. "Says 'I do business, but I also do crime' in all the right ways."

You find yourself nodding along because damn.

He looks exactly like what a high-level arms dealer should look—dangerous enough to take seriously, stylish enough to have clearly made money doing it.

Jeon catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, like he's asking what you think. You give him a small nod because what else can you do? He looks f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ good.

Really good.

Jessi rummages through another rack and pulls out this long-sleeved black shirt.

"Here, put this under the jacket. The fabric's breathable but bulletproof-adjacent. Won't stop a direct hit, but it'll give you a fighting chance."

Jeon shrugs off the leather jacket and slips the shirt on. It's thin but looks sturdy—perfect for someone who might need to move fast or fight their way out of trouble.

Jessi finally steps back, eyeing him like she's inspecting a weapon.

"Not bad. Looks casual enough that no one'll think twice, but you can actually move in it." She hands him back the leather jacket. "Try it all together."

You try to look professional while he puts the jacket back on over the maroon shirt and black base layer, but fuck—the whole ensemble is perfect.

The layers somehow make him look even more dangerous, like he could either charm you or kill you and you wouldn't know which until it was too late.

While Jeon and Jessi get into some deep discussion about fabric weights and mobility ranges, you're kind of amazed at how much thought goes into this.

It's not just picking out nice clothes—every piece has to tell the right story without saying a word.

One wrong detail and the whole cover's blown.

The attention to detail is actually impressive. Jessi knows exactly how to make someone look dangerous but approachable, wealthy but not flashy.

In this world, the wrong outfit can get you killed as quick as the wrong word.

You watch them fine-tune every detail, fascinated by how each adjustment shapes the character Jeon's going to play. And then… The final touch.This plain black watch that probably has fifteen different ways to kill someone. Jeon checks it over with that focused look he gets when he's handling weapons.

"Nice," is all he says, strapping it on.

Standing there in his perfectly crafted outfit, Jeon looks like he was born to play this role. Then Jessi turns to you with this wicked gleam in her eyes that makes your stomach drop.

"Your turn, beautiful," she says, gesturing at another rack of clothes. "Let's make you look expensive but deadly."

Something tells you this is going to be way more complicated than just picking out a nice dress.

You step forward to check out what Jessi's picked out, and damn—she really knows what she's doing. Every piece looks like it was chosen to tell a specific story about who you're supposed to be for this mission.

First up is this skin-tight dress that practically screams ‘honey trap.’ Jessi takes one look and tosses it aside with a muttered "too fucking obvious."

Then there's this whole secretary fantasy thing with a high-necked blouse and pencil skirt, but that gets vetoed too. ("Can't fight for shit in that.")

Then she hands you this black button-up that feels expensive as hell, paired with these tailored pants that feel way too nice to the touch. The fabric's got that perfect balance—soft enough to feel good but sturdy enough to take a beating if things go south.

When you slip into it, something shifts. The shirt fits in all the right places, making you feel d̶a̶n̶g̶e̶r̶o̶u̶s̶ powerful. And the pants? They let you move like you might need to throw down at any second, which, considering it's MDF territory you're heading into, isn't exactly unlikely.

You step out to get Jessi's opinion.

And catch Jeon straight-up staring at your ass.

You’re not surprised.

When you meet his eyes, he looks away so fast it's actually kind of funny, pressing his lips together like he's trying not to smile. He looks like a kid who just got caught stealing cookies, and something about that expression makes you bite back a smile of your own.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Jessi says, looking you over with that critical eye of hers. "You look like someone who could either make a deal or break some kneecaps. Perfect."

The outfit's actually making you feel kind of invincible. (The fact that it got Mr. Perfect Sniper all flustered doesn't hurt either.) You do a little turn, testing how it moves. Everything feels right—professional enough to be taken seriously, but with enough edge to remind people you're not someone to fuck with.

"Hold up," Jessi says suddenly, her eyes getting that dangerous glint that usually means trouble. "Got one more thing. Don't move."

She strides off into her weapons paradise, leaving you standing there wondering what else she could possibly have planned.

You definitely don't check if Jeon's still watching.

(Okay, that's a lie. You totally do.)

The button-up fits you like it was made for you—professional enough to command respect but with just enough something to make heads turn. You're fiddling with the collar when you notice it's buttoned kind of low. Like, maybe too low for a serious arms deal. But before you can decide whether to fix it, Jeon's suddenly right there in your space.

"Let me," he says, voice gone all low and rough (molten lava in your stomach)

His fingers brush against your skin as he does up that one button over your chest, and fuck—that tiny touch has your brain stuttering a bit.

Probably because your body remembers what those fingers can do.

When you look up at him (because of course he's using his height to loom over you like the smug bastard he is), his eyes are dark enough to drown in.

The little gleam swimming in them tells you he knows exactly what he's doing.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" you say, trying to sound annoyed even though you can feel yourself starting to smile.

"Immensely." He says; and his voice is pure sin wrapped in amusement.

He just keeps staring at you with this intensity that makes it hard to breathe, like he's thinking about all the ways he could mess up your perfectly put-together outfit.

Then Jessi bursts back in, completely ruining the moment.

"Found it!" She's waving around this black blazer like she just discovered buried treasure.

Jeon steps back, but not before giving you one last look that promises later. That little smirk is still playing on his lips as Jessi throws the blazer over your shoulders like she's putting the final touch on a masterpiece.

While Jessi goes over the tech specs of your gear, you sneak another look at Jeon. That heated playfulness from earlier is gone, replaced by that laser-focused look he gets when he's in Chief mode.

But there's still this... tension hanging in the air between you, like neither of you has quite forgotten what almost happened in that elevator.

Jessi then looks you both up and down with this satisfied smirk, like an artist admiring her masterpiece.

You have to admit, she knows what she's doing—the outfits are perfect for your cover, walking that line between dangerous and professional.

"Now for the fun part," she says, suddenly all business. "Let's get you two properly armed."

She leads you deeper into her weapons paradise, stopping at what looks like a plain wall. But when she presses her hand against this hidden scanner, the whole thing comes alive with soft beeps and whirs. A keypad appears, and Jessi punches in some code faster than you can follow.

The wall basically transforms, splitting open to reveal these massive hidden cabinets that look straight out of a spy movie.

Inside is enough firepower to start (or end) a small war, all arranged with the kind of precision that would make Jeon proud.

You've seen weapons before—kind of comes with the whole gang thing—but this is different.

Every gun, knife, and thing-you-don't-even-have-a-name-for gleams under the lights like they're on display in some very deadly museum.

"For when things get up close and personal," Jessi says, picking up this compact black handgun, "you'll want this beauty."

She hands you a Glock 26, and fuck—it's heavier than it looks.

"Small enough to hide, big enough to make someone regret their life choices."

Then she turns to Jeon with a different gun. "You get the Sig P226. More range, more punch. You can hang back and give her cover while she works her magic up close."

Jeon takes the gun and with a flick of his wrist, he expertly checks the chamber and magazine. You can't understand why your brain thinks that's hot, but the little nod he gives tells you Jessi picked right.

She keeps pulling out more gear—silencers that look way too professional, extra magazines, these holsters that probably cost more than your monthly pay. Then come the knives, small enough to hide pretty much anywhere but sharp enough to make you nervous just looking at them.

Jessi's whole vibe changes as she finishes arming you up. "These aren't just fancy accessories. Every time you pull one of these, you're making a choice that could end someone—maybe even yourself."

The weight of what she's saying hits different when you're actually holding deadly weapons. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you can tell she's trusting you not to fuck this up.

"One more thing," she says, pulling this fancy-looking gadget from a drawer. "Multi-tool kit. Has everything from basic lock picks to a mini torch. Trust me, you'll want options when shit hits the fan."

She hands it to Jeon, who clips it to his belt with practiced ease. (Of course he knows exactly what to do with it—guy probably has a whole collection of spy gear at home.)

Jessi takes a step back, giving you both this final once-over that feels kind of like a proud mom sending her kids off to prom.

(If prom involved infiltrating a rival gang's hideout.)

"You're good to go. Just remember—get in, do the job, get out. Don't try to be heroes."

Her words stick with you as you follow her out of the weapons room.

You walk through another set of doors to find a…

Holy shit. The garage is massive.

It's like walking into some billionaire's private car collection, except every vehicle probably has hidden gun compartments or something.

So Jessi's definitely got a thing for cars. There's everything from flashy Lamborghinis to those huge Bentleys that scream ‘I’m rich and probably dangerous.’ Motorcycles, sports cars, even some vehicles that look straight-up bulletproof—all lined up like some very deadly candy shop.

You're starting to think maybe the weapons aren't even Jessi's favorite toys.

Jessi leads you through her collection of cars like a proud mom showing off her kids' trophies. She stops at this black Lamborghini that looks expensive enough to make your eyes water. The lights bounce off its surface like it's made of pure money.

"This baby right here?" She runs her hand over the hood like she's petting a cat. "Zero to sixty in 2.8 seconds. Makes people's heads turn so fast they get whiplash."

Then she drags you over to this Bentley that screams old money.

"And this beauty? When you need people to think you've got more dollars than sense." The inside looks like someone skinned a whole herd of very expensive cows and covered it in fancy wood.

"We're taking my bike."

Jeon's voice cuts through Jessi's car tour sharply.

He says it like it's already decided, which—knowing him—it probably is.

Jessi whips around to look at him, and fuck—her fiery aura actually flares up like she's about to burst into flames.

"Are you kidding me? Look at these beauties!" She waves at her collection. "They're begging for some action!"

But Jeon just shakes his head. "Bike's more maneuverable. Better control. Makes more sense for what we need."

"Ugh, fine." Jessi throws one last longing look at the Lamborghini like she's saying goodbye to a child. "But I swear to god, one of these days I'm getting your ass in one of these cars."

The little smirk Jeon gives her actually looks kind of fond. "Keep dreaming."

So you follow him to another part of the garage where his bike's parked.

It's this sleek, black monster of a machine that somehow manages to look both subtle and dangerous—kind of like its owner. The thing practically radiates power, but in that quiet way that says it doesn't need to show off.

Jessi watches Jeon check over the bike with this resigned look.

He runs his hands over the handlebars, checking everything with the kind of attention to detail you'd expect from someone who regularly makes impossible shots from a mile away.

"At least you take care of my presents," she mutters, but there's no real heat in it.

Jeon just nods, swinging his leg over the bike like he was born to ride it. When he turns to look at you, his face has gone all serious again.

"You good?"

You nod, feeling your heart start picking up speed.

This is really happening.

Jessi steps back, smiles, and then just waves you two off, not before adding something else.

"Watch your asses out there. And remember—you need backup, we're just a call away."

goal: 490 notes !!

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@cannotalwaysbenight @taevescence @itstoastsworld @redcherrykook @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @rpwprpwprpwprw @jimineepaboya @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex @vialattea00 @minniejim @curse-of-art @mellyyyyyyx @mimi1097 @jeontae @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @dltyum

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cherryrikis · 10 months ago

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ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 014 ! im one less lonely girl

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

authors note so thats a wrap! just like that, its over. this is technically the last official part bc ep15 is more like an epilogue/can be read as a standalone, but its still just as meaningful to the plot. i had so much fun writing this and i gained so much support and so many new moots. i love you all and thank you for staying here even though i struggled to update while juggling school and work. 💗

previous <> masterlist <> next

“i’m so sad to announce that today will be our last show together, as our contract has reached its end.” you read off the script, lightly patting your waterline with the pad of your pointer finger.

“but, i hope this won’t be the last time we see each other. i am very thankful for this opportunity.” riki spoke as he looked into the camera lens, before moving closer to link his arm with yours.

“this was newjeans’ y/n,” “and this was enhypen’s ni-ki! please look forward to our future projects. we may no longer mc together, but we will forever be a couple together. thank you everyone!”

the cameras stopped rolling, and the red light turned off which signaled the recording was over.

staff and crew rushed to the both of you, so you were immediately bombarded with baskets of fruit, chocolates, snd two flower bouquets.

“this is for a good few months of connecting together. thank you for your hard work and dedication.” the head of the staff greeted, as his assistants handed out your gifts.

“thank you sir. we look forward to seeing more of you in the future!” the two of you bowed, before leaving to head backstage.

“dani said she’s gonna come with everyone else to pick us up. they want to get dinner at that chicken spot to celebrate our contract ending.” you informed riki, turning to show the texts in the group chat as he finished changing out his stage outfit.

hyein! - ‘congrats, you’re free from the chains music bank had you bounded into!🥳🎉’

danii 💗 - ‘me and enjeans are gonna get u guys from work so we can get chicken. great job on mubank :)’

riki chuckled, before handing your phone back to you. “sunghoon and heeseung are gonna get so drunk. so, beware.” he emphasized.

“no worries. im stuck with you anyway.” you sighed, gently punching his shoulder.

“here’s to riki and y/n, for finally being free from kbs! i hope none of us ever have to mc again.” sunghoon toasted as he raised his glass, after jake poured everyone shots.

“for real. we barely saw you guys while you were signed to that contract.” minji nudged your shoulder.

hyein burst out laughing, almost spilling the drinks scattered around her place at the table. “if you guys weren’t dating, y/n would’ve been sobbing because she’d never see you again!”

“is.. is she, drunk?” sunoo raised a brow, gently pulling hyein’s hood over her head.

“sunoo! she’s underage! all i got her were 2 shirley temples.” danielle gasped.

“okay! enough. we’re in public.” riki announced. “baby? go ahead my love.” he gestured sweetly for you to make your speech.

“thanks ‘ki.” you smiled. “i’m pretty happy our managers decided to let us have a joint interview that day. if we didn’t, me and riki probably would’ve never met. so, i’m glad music bank happened. otherwise, i couldn’t call this kid here my boyfriend.” you spoke, moving to wrap your arms around riki in a soft hug.

“cheers!” everyone exclaimed in awe.

as your group members around you yelled out congratulatory speeches, all riki could think about was you.

because now that you could be in his arms in public with no repercussions, that was all that mattered.

you looked at him with a bright smile, and riki could feel his heart melt as your expression.

the world had one less lonely girl.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @chaevibes @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae @iheartshopping @istphanie @queenriki7 @academiq @1117promises @nctislifue @haechansbbg @rairaiblog @nabia-bia @pkjay @lixiebokie @hiekoo @r1kizerr @d-dilemma @kingofthekards @iilwji @hoonatic @woorcve @enhaz1

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #niki smau #niki x reader #enhypen niki #enhypen imagines #nishimura riki #enhypen smau #riki x reader #enhypen scenarios

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honeekyuu · 1 year ago

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take the edge off. [suna rintarou x f!reader] chapter five.

>>You struggle with your weight and body image, but Suna extensively and thoroughly undoes all the damage done by other guys.

You haven't gotten laid in over a year, and your best friend takes it upon himself to fix that for you.<<

series status: [complete]

previous. || masterlist.

a/n: welcome to the last installment of this fic!!!! i hope you all enjoyed the fic <3 and i will CERTAINLY be writing for sunarin again, as he is in fact my entire world :')

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

“Where are you going-”

“You have to leave-”

“Y/n, come back -”

“My plans are all ruined!”

You slide around the bar in the kitchen, barely managing to evade Suna’s grasp. He smacks his hands down on the counter, laughing as he watches you slip and slide across the tile, just out of reach.

“Why are you running!” He yells through his laughter. You just scowl at him.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this, Rin – I had a plan!” You gesture at yourself in exasperation. “I look stupid!”

“I’m a fan, personally,” He says, beaming at you. You make to escape, but he matches you, trapping you behind the bar. You stomp a foot.

“I had everything figured out! I was gonna dress up real pretty and surprise you – I look like someone’s grandmother-”

“Maybe I’m into sexy grandmothers-” He cuts off, barking out a laugh when you cut him a glare.

“I’m leaving you.”

“ Don’t even- ” He reaches across the counter for you, giving up and chasing you through the kitchen when you jump away. “- joke about that, you fuck -”

You scream, making a beeline through the living room and down the hall. You slide into the bathroom, reaching for the door and trying to throw it shut, but Suna just slams a hand on it and pushes his way into the room, trapping you. You scream helplessly, flailing when he catches you around the waist and lifts you off your feet.

“My beautiful lingerie! All of my plans!”

When he laughs in your ear, warm and close, your resolution cracks, and you slump in his arms. He hums, pleased, when you wrap your arms and legs around him and cling tight.

“Did you go out and buy lingerie, baby?”

“Yes.” You scowl, letting him walk you over to the sink to set you down on the edge.

“And you wanted to surprise me with it?”

“Yes,” You say, leaning away to glare up at him. “And now I’m gonna return it all. Jerk.”

“What’s this attitude for, huh?” He clicks his teeth at you, shaking his head with a grin. “You must have really missed me.”

You melt a little when he leans in close, his green eyes flicking between yours and then down to your mouth.

“Right?”

You warm and nod quietly, unable to tear your eyes away.

“ Right. ”

His lips are wonderfully familiar on yours.

You sigh, cupping his face with both hands and breathing him in. When he sets his hands on your waist, his grip is tight, seeking. He pulls you flush to his chest, tilting his head and slotting himself perfectly against you.

“ Missed you ,” He whispers, nipping lightly at your bottom lip. The cold of his lip ring steals a bit of your breath away.

“ I missed you, too, ” You breathe, sliding your hands down his chest to curl under the hem of his t-shirt. And then you pull away with a grimace. “But you are incredibly airport-dirty.”

He lifts a brow, pushing the palms of his hands against your bare thighs and under your bathrobe. You shiver, and he scans you with a knowing smile. “And you’re so incredibly clean?”

“Of course I am,” You argue, barely holding out. “Don’t you see my stupid outfit? I’m bed-ready.”

“Bed-ready,” He repeats with a nod and a smile that causes molten heat to pool just under your navel. “Can I make you more bed-ready?”

You roll your eyes, tugging at his shirt and pulling it clean over his head. “That was corny.” Your voice shakes, betraying how nervous he makes you, after all this time.

Suna says nothing, just leaning down and pushing his lips hard against yours.

You really did miss him.

“Take this off,” He says, pulling the knot on your robe free and shoving it off of your shoulders. You shed it without a single ounce of resistance, simply too desperate to be close to him.

The cold air makes you shudder, your old camisole and pajama shorts not nearly enough coverage for the air-conditioned apartment. Suna pulls back, scanning you. And then he sighs, lifting his eyes to the ceiling with a pained smile.

“ This is torture ,” He breathes, and his gaze is heated when he meets your eyes again. “You’re torture.”

“You chose me.” You give him a shallow shrug. “You deal with the consequences.”

He grins easily, backing away to turn the shower on. “With pleasure.” He nods at your clothes before reaching for his belt. “Off.”

With only a bit of hesitation, you pull your cami over your head and toss it on the floor. Suna watches with great attention as you hop off the sink and drop your shorts slowly. When you look back, he’s made no move to undress himself, hands stilled on his belt as his gaze locks on the length of your legs, teeth tugging harshly on his lip ring.

“Distracted?” You tease, stepping free of your clothes and reaching for him. He blinks, swallowing hard as you tug on his belt loops.

“I genuinely can’t remember what I was just doing.”

You giggle to yourself, the clink of his belt echoing in the bathroom as you undo his jeans. “Don’t worry,” You breathe, shivering when his cold hands land on the heated skin of your waist. “I remember enough for both of us.”

His jeans and boxers fall to his ankles, and his head falls back when you wrap your hand very carefully around his cock, already half-hard.

“ Fuck, I missed you,” He groans, head leaned on the wall.

You lean up, pressing your lips to his throat and smiling when a quiet moan falls past his lips.

“ Get in the shower, Rintarou ,” You whisper, stroking him once before stepping away from him.

He shudders and stares up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly to regain his bearings.

“Yes, ma’am,” He mumbles, stepping shakily into the glass booth. You follow after, grinning smugly up at him.

“I think I like when you listen to me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Noted, asshole.”

You giggle together, the moment gentle under the water.

You wash his hair in silence, only sputtering playfully when soap gets in your mouth and laughing into his ear when he drags you close and shoves his shampoo-covered head into your face.

Suna Rintarou makes it as far as combing conditioner through his hair before he stops trying to keep his hands to himself.

You’re scrubbing your body when you feel his fingers dancing across the underside of your breasts.

“Can I help you?” You ask, depositing your loofa back on its hook.

He says nothing, gaze simply tracking the line of soap that falls between your breasts. His eyes flick to yours, green and heated, and it warms something dangerous in you.

He presses you back harshly against the tile, mouth urgent on yours, and you blame the week of distance for how easily you give in to him.

“Rin,” You whisper, relishing the taste of him after so long apart.

He shivers at the way his name rolls off your tongue, pressed against his.

“ Missed you ,” He mumbles, nudging your thighs apart with his knee. You whimper when he wraps his fingers around the back of your leg, lifting it so he can drag it around his hip. He traps you against the wall, rolling his tongue across yours and moaning in time with you when his cock brushes against your folds.

“ Please, Rin, ” You swallow, latching your fingers into his hair and holding him close.

The sigh he breathes into your mouth when the head of his cock slips past your entrance is depraved, desperate. Your eyes roll into the back of your head when he bottoms out, his hips pressed tight against yours.

Quiet envelops you, only your shared, ragged breaths heard under the rush of water. Suna drops his forehead to your shoulder, and you cling to him, fingers tight in his hair.

“ I love you ,” He murmurs against your throat, sucking the air clean from your lungs.

“I love you, too,” You croak, gasping when he pulls away to press his forehead to yours and draws his hips back. He snaps them forward, and your stomach lurches with pleasure. “Oh, my God, Rin-”

“I love you.” He’s relentless, surging his hips against yours and slamming you back against the wall. You barely manage to hold his gaze, every nerve ending in your body drawn to him. “I think I’ve been in love with you an embarrassingly long time.”

You swallow a whimper, digging your nails into his back and watching when he shivers. “I love you, Rintarou. I’m yours.”

“Yeah?” He laughs breathily, eyes searching you. “Promise?”

“‘m not goin’ anywhere, Rin.” Your voice takes on a whiny edge, needy and wanton. “I’ve been yours a long, long time.”

You keep his eyes on yours, your meaning trapped in the sliver of space between your lips.

That you’ve been his longer than he’d realized. Longer than you’d realized.

That the start of this thing between you had never been the start at all, but the end of something that had been building for longer than either of you had thought.

Suna’s eyes drop to your lips as he sucks in a breath, the next drag of his hips drawing a quiet moan out of you, his mouth brushing against yours as he whispers-

“ Move in with me .”

Your eyes fly open, and the laugh that rips from your throat is full of surprise.

“ What? ”

His eyes glint with excitement, and he rails his cock into you, pinning your hips to the wall.

“You heard me.”

You throw your head against the wall, laughing gleefully. “You’re fucking insane, Suna Rintarou.”

“Come on, Y/n-” He grunts when your nails scratch against his scalp, cock twitching inside you. “You basically already live here-”

“That’s different-”

“How?” He pants over you, his breath growing shallow and his pace becoming irregular. “What’s so different?”

“You really want to have this conversation right now-”

He grips your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers, and you fall for him that much more.

“I already have you,” He breathes, eyes glazing over briefly when he drives his cock into you. “I have your clothes in my closet-”

You shudder at the force he’s using, the coil in your navel forming urgently and all at once.

“-I have your shit all over my apartment -”

You think of everything you have here – your paperwork on his dining table, your groceries in his fridge – and realize he’s right.

“-I have you in my bed every night, Y/n,” He gasps when you clench around him, your name coming out in a desperate groan. “I want you here. I want you everywhere. I told you.”

“ Rin ,” You cry, pulling him close and burying your face in his neck. “Rin, I-”

“Move in with me. Let’s make it official.” He breathes it into your ear, shaky and vulnerable, and you’re dragged to the very edge of oblivion. His hands slide up your spine, drawing you up into him as he whispers against your skin.

“ Come for me, baby .”

Oblivion feels a lot like Suna Rintarou.

When you finally come down, minutes later, the shower’s starting to run cold. Suna’s forehead rests against yours, breath mingling in ragged gasps in the space between you. You realize when his shoulders sag with relief that he’d come soon after you had, warm and familiar inside you.

You reach up, cupping his face and bringing him in for a kiss. He smiles against you.

“ Is that a yes? ” He murmurs into your mouth, breathing out a laugh when you nip at his lip ring.

Suna Rintarou has always made everything so easy.

“I suppose it is,” You beam up at him. “I guess I can start using my old rent money to buy more lingerie.”

His smile feels like home.

“Oh, yes,” He nods, reaching back blindly to shut the water off. “Yes, I think I like this idea.”

“Wait-” You laugh, letting him drag you out of the shower. “We’re not done showering-”

He hoists you up with little issue, carrying you down the hall to the bedroom.

“We’re gonna need another one in a few hours, anyway.”

It becomes quite apparent over the course of the night that Suna likes the lingerie you picked out for him very much .

–

A week later, you and Osamu close the shop for the entire day in order to set up for Haru’s party. The boy in question tries very hard to help with the organization, but you lock him out just as he’s arriving. He stands at the door like a creep while the two of you and Mayuri run around putting up streamers and decorating tables.

Finally, it’s Osamu who has the bright idea to send Mayuri out there with him.

“Just keep him busy, I’m beggin’ here,” The twin says, ushering the girl out the back entrance so that Haru doesn’t try to elbow his way in through the front. She flushes, and you’re quick to meet Osamu’s eyes, the two of you nothing more than a couple of nosy aunties at heart.

You watch as Mayuri appears behind Haru and awkwardly beckons him out to the street, but it’s Haru’s nervous blush that has you and Osamu scheming about how to get them to admit their feelings almost an hour after they’re gone.

“We could always just lock them in the storage room,” He suggests eventually, and you laugh while unloading bottles of champagne at a table by the window.

“I’m pretty sure that’s considered employer harassment, Samu.”

“Damn.” He shakes his head. “These labor laws are gonna keep them from their happy ending, I swear.”

You cackle, moving to the storage room to find the boxes of champagne flutes he’d ordered. “We should leave them be. They’ll figure it out in their own time.”

“ Ew- ” He calls from the other side of the wall. “ What have you done with my scheming Y/n?”

“She found love and companionship?” You try, digging through packages absentmindedly.

“ Ew! ”

“Now, now, Samu – be nice or I’ll tell Y/n all of the disgusting, lovesick things you’ve ever said about Yachi. ”

You perk up, Suna’s voice drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

He’s standing at the front door, fending off Osamu’s attack of streamer rolls and party cups.

“Rin,” You breathe, flushing warmly.

He winks, immediately hit in the side of the head by a rolled up tablecloth. Osamu laughs, reaching for more projectiles while evading the swing Suna’s aimed at him.

“What are you even doing here? Don’t you have a job?”

“I took the afternoon off to help you fucks set up for the party, but instead I find myself being attacked-” He catches Osamu around the neck, and the two almost knock over a few tables on their way to the ground.

You type out a quick text before moving to stack champagne flutes calmly on the other side of the room.

[1:35 PM]

You : our boyfriends are brawling in the store and ruining all the decor

Hitoka : on it

It’s mere moments before the bell above the door is jingling, a tiny blonde there with one hand on her hip and a fiery look in her eye.

“Miya Osamu.”

Osamu rolls off of Suna with the speed of a former athlete, standing at attention. “Hi, babe.” He smiles breathlessly, reaching up to fix his clothes and hair.

Yachi smiles dangerously back at him. “Are you letting Y/n do all the work for the party?”

He swallows, shaking his head. Suna stands lazily behind him, snickering.

“ Someone’s obedient. ”

You call out from the table without turning back, a smile tugging at your lips as you stack flutes. “Rintarou-”

He’s at your side in an instant. “Hello, my sweet, lovely, perfect girlfriend. How can I help?”

You hand him a pack of tablecloths without a single word, and he rushes off to work. Yachi has Osamu doing the same on the other side of the shop, and you join her at the door with a side hug.

“Thanks for the backup,” You shoot her a stage-whisper, and she giggles back.

“I like being in charge of tall men. They’re afraid of us.”

The boys each groan in despair but continue to decorate nonetheless.

–

The shop is ready a few hours later, catered food set out along the wall and the cafe tables converted into standing cocktail tables. You and Osamu man your individual bars, thankful for the bartending elective you’d taken together in college.

The Black Jackals all pile through the door together, bringing with them some of their own friends. Their manager and coach come, too, smiling at the tasteful MSBY merchandise hanging around the shop.

Under yours and Osamu’s constant updates, Mayuri ensures she and Haru are the last through the door, everyone cheering and clapping for the new MSBY hire as he blushes a deep scarlet. Mayuri starts to move away from him so that the floor is all his, but Haru’s quick to latch onto her hand, dragging her back to him with a shy flick of his eyes to hers.

You meet Osamu’s eyes across the room, and he just nods in approval. Suna materializes behind the bar with you, one hand on your waist.

“He’s really growing up.”

You smile at the pair, watching Haru pull Mayuri around the room with him while he greets people. You remember the day he interviewed for you, freshly 18 and a nervous bounce in his knee. He’s not all that different now. “He’s still a kid, though, don’t you think?”

“Aren’t we all?”

You hum fondly, attention caught by the flash of orange that’s bounding up to the bar.

“Hey, Heartbreaker,” Hinata says, smiling sweetly down at you and leaning across the counter for a hug.

“Shou,” You greet him, squeezing him before pulling back. “Want something to drink?”

“Well,” He laughs. “I was going to ask for a cocktail, but I think I’ll just pour myself some champagne over there.” He gestures back toward the table you’d set up earlier. You blink, confused, and the ginger is glancing with amusement over your shoulder.

You look back, finding Suna leaning conspicuously against the wall and scrolling on his phone. He glances suspiciously at you and then at Hinata, clearly trying not to seem like a possessive boyfriend.

You laugh, rolling your eyes and turning back to your friend. “He’s a grown man, Shou – I promise he’ll be fine.” You take his order and get to making his drink, Hinata walking up and down the bar with you to make conversation.

“Are you upset that we’re stealing Haru from you?”

“Why? You got another part-timer I can hire?”

“Well, uh – I do know someone moving here soon to finish up school.” His flush is bright like his hair, and it gives you pause.

“ Who ?” You ask, a smile tugging at your lips knowingly.

Hinata rolls his eyes. “You know who. There’s a team that wants him, but the coach wants him to get his degree first.”

You furrow a brow. “I’ve never heard of that happening before.”

He nods, taking the drink from you with a smile. “It’s rare, but it happens sometimes. He’s not too happy about it, but…”

“But…” Your smile is back. “I’m guessing his choice of school had a little something to do with one of the current Black Jackals?”

Hinata sips nervously from his drink. “Somethin’ like that.”

You nod, wiping down the bar with feigned disinterest. “And I’m guessing he wouldn’t mind a part-time job across from their home gym?”

The ginger swallows, staring down into his cup as he murmurs again. “ Somethin’ like that .”

You beam at him. “Send him our application.”

He wanders off not long after that, mumbling ‘ Later, Heartbreaker ’ as he goes.

Suna’s at your side instantly. “What was that about?”

You nudge him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “That, my sweet, jealous boy-” You grin when he scowls. “-was about Kageyama Tobio.”

Realization dawns on him, and he breathes out a sigh. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” You laugh. “ Oh . Dumbass.”

He flushes in that way you love so much and gestures across the room to where the twins are bickering at the other bar. “I feel that I am suddenly needed in that general area…”

“Oh, I’m sure,” You laugh, full of endearment as you watch him go.

Your moment of peace lasts about three minutes, interrupted by a flushed, excited Haru.

“Hey, Boss!” He beams at you, only a little shy when you level him with a fond smile.

“Hi, Haru. Enjoying the party?” Your eyes flick to the death grip he still has on Mayuri, their fingers interlocked now. He doesn’t notice, but she does, her ears burning a bright red. You just smile knowingly and turn back to the oblivious boy between you.

“This is completely insane, Boss – The entire team is here! The manager and coach, too! And a bunch of random people who keep saying hi to me!”

You laugh brightly, making them both a cocktail of your choice and watching as they sip at it with enjoyment. “Welcome to the inner circle, Haru.” You cut a glance to the girl at his side. “You know, everyone gets a plus-one…”

Mayuri warms, and Haru sees it now, but only because she’s starting to slip her hand out of his shyly. He turns to her, holding tight and bringing her back.

“You heard her,” He says, looking Mayuri straight in the eye. She stares up at him, caught off guard, and you turn away, giving them a moment while you wipe some clean glasses dry.

When you turn back, they’re gone again, hands clasped more naturally between them. You shake your head, grinning to yourself while you wash a few more dishes.

“That was pretty sweet of you.”

You glance up at the voice, finding an unfamiliar man on the other end of it. He smiles down at you, handsome in a classy way.

“Aw, it’s nothing,” You smile, waving him off. “They’ve been dancing around each other a while – driving me and my co-owner insane.”

The man laughs, picking up the makeshift cocktail menus you and Osamu had created for the event. He scans it, humming. “Can I get…” He laughs. “Isn’t it supposed to be called a ‘ Sex on the Beach ’?”

You grin, grabbing bottles for the shop’s spinoff – Sex on the Boardwalk – with very little explanation.

“That one was Atsumu’s idea, unfortunately. It’s got about three more types of alcohol than usual.”

The guy nods understandingly. “I’ve only talked to him a few times, but that seems about right.”

“How’d you meet him?”

“Oh, I’m a friend of Bokuto’s,” He says, shrugging. “He saw me struggling at the gym and decided to take me under his wing.”

You glance at the mountain that is Bokuto Koutarou and nod simply. “I would expect nothing less of him.” You see the look he’s giving you, one of intrigue, so you explain. “I grew up with Atsumu and his brother – my co-owner.”

He hums, thanking you as you slide the drink to him. He winces on the first sip. “That’s painful.”

You point at the glass. “Finish that and you won’t remember having sex on a boardwalk, either.”

His laugh is full, warm.

It’s only when he meets your eyes that you realize there’s an odd glint in them. One you’re not used to seeing so genuinely from someone who’s not Suna.

“So, uh…” He starts, taking another sip. “I hope it’s not too forward, but I was wondering-”

Oh.

“-ou’re single…? Or…”

You blink, surprised. “Oh.”

He blinks back. “Oh?”

“Oh-” You laugh. “Sorry, shit. You caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting that.”

You’re not sure if you should be laughing at the irony of Suna not hovering behind you for the singular time that he really should be, or if you should be cursing Bokuto for continuing to invite random people to these events.

The guy smiles in disbelief. “I’m sure you get it all the time.”

You stare. “Not… really, no?”

“Really?” He furrows a brow. “You’re beautiful.”

You smile, warm. “Thank you, that’s really kind of you.”

He hears the meaning in what you don’t say – that you don’t flirt back. “Ah, I see-”

“Yeah, that’s-” You look across the room to Suna, finding that he’s already watching you. His eyes are dark, and you realize belatedly that it had taken too long for you to notice this man’s advances.

You give him a look that you hope conveys your innocence and continue to point him out. “That’s my boyfriend right there.”

He follows your gaze, and you watch the glower Suna’s giving you pass over to this poor, unsuspecting man.

“Oh-” He says, laughing nervously. “Damn. I was kinda hoping it wasn’t the scariest guy in the room.”

“Tough luck on that one,” You grin sheepishly. “Maybe if you finish that drink, you won’t remember this moment.”

He throws back half of the drink good-naturedly and then joins your laughter. “Well, please excuse any overstep I might have made. And please tell him not to beat me up.”

“You’re fine,” You wave him off. “It was good to meet you.”

“You, too,” He smiles politely, and then he nods carefully at Suna, who’s starting to make his way over. “He’s a real lucky guy.”

You warm. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

Suna’s in the newly emptied spot before you’re done speaking, his eyes burning holes into the man’s back.

“Hi, my sweet, jealous boy.”

Suna’s eyes are sharp when they find yours.

“Was that also about Kageyama Tobio?”

You throw your head back, laughing, and lean toward him with a grin.

“Would you believe me if I said I had absolutely no idea he was flirting until it was too late?”

He watches you for a moment before sighing, dropping his head with a groan.

“Yes, of course I would. I already knew that.”

You beam up at him. “He said you were a very lucky man, Suna Rintarou.”

His eyes glint with something wicked when he looks at you. “Yeah? Want me to show him how lucky?”

You roll your eyes, leaning away to make him a drink, and Suna watches you for a moment.

“He wasn’t rude or anything, right?”

You glance at him with lifted brows. “Not at all, why?”

“Just checking.” He looks away, and you see him meeting Atsumu and Osamu’s eyes across the room. He nods once, and the twins relax, each returning to their respective partners.

You watch with amazement. “Have you three always been that way?”

“You don’t notice much, do you?”

You suppose you don’t.

–

The next day, you linger outside Suna’s shop nervously, holding a bag of Thai food. You tug nervously at the hem of your dress, adjusting it over and over again while you stand there.

Suna had bought it for you while on his trip – a deep green thing that’s silky and snug against your body. It complements his eyes, the color. And, although this is technically your first date with him, this dress is not for the date between the two of you. There’s another one tonight, the triple date organized with all your friends.

Still, you want to look good for Suna on your first date. You want him to think you’re pretty in the dress that he bought you. But as you stand there in it, staring at yourself in the reflection of the window, you still can’t decide if you love how it looks on you – because it’s objectively beautiful and suits you well – or if you hate how it looks, because it’s something you’ve never had the confidence to wear before.

You shift back and forth a few more times, staring at your reflection and tugging at the silk. After a moment, your phone buzzes in your clutch.

[12:54 PM]

Sunarin : you gonna keep standing out there, scaredycat?

Sunarin : or are you gonna let me see you properly

You look at the window in a panic, seeing through it for the first time and realizing that Suna’s perched on the edge of the reception desk, watching you with a fond smile. You swallow, storing your phone away and approaching the shop. You push through the door, the jingle of the bell echoing in the silence around you.

Suna had closed out the shop, giving his artists a paid day off on the condition that they’ll stay far away from the place the whole day. As you walk in, you realize why.

He’d cut all the overhead lights, bathing the room in darkness, and had lit just a few candles around his own station. There’s a table near the client’s chair, two glasses set up next to a chilled bottle of white wine.

Suna’s still seated on the reception desk, dressed in classy black slacks with a black button down tucked into them, sleeves rolled past his elbows. His tattoos, piercings, and that little bracelet of yours all stand out on his skin.

“Hi,” You breathe, wobbling once in your heels as you make your way to him.

“Hi, beautiful.” His eyes trail down the length of your dress, twinkling with amazement. “You look…”

You smooth out the silk again nervously. “Is it okay?”

“Okay…?” He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

You warm, holding out the bag of food. “I’m a little scared we’re gonna get food on our clothes.”

He grins, setting it on the desk. “Luckily, you have a boyfriend who thinks of everything.”

“Do I?” You joke, looking around. “Is he here with us?”

Suna just takes your hand, leading you to his office. There are a couple pairs of sweats and some t-shirts on his couch, things that you know he wouldn’t mind getting dirty. You stare down at them, impressed. And then you look down at yourself.

“I won’t lie to you – I’m not sure I’ll be able to get this back on if I take it off right now.”

He just rolls his eyes and helps you undress, hanging the dress carefully behind the door before following suit. You kick off the heels and pull on his spare clothes, careful not to mess up your hair or makeup.

Suna looks at you just as he had when you’d walked in.

“What?” You laugh, eyeing him.

“Nothing,” He starts, shaking his head. “Just wondering how you’re still the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, shut up,” You roll your eyes with a giddy smile. “Are you gonna tattoo me or not?”

That catches his attention, and he throws his own shirt on haphazardly before dragging you out to his station. You settle in while he grabs the food and brings it back, setting it up and dropping a container of food down into your lap.

“I thought it would be good if you watched me do mine first, so you know what to expect,” He starts, taking a seat and wheeling to his cart of ink and needles. “But that means you’re on lunch duty.”

“Is that right?” You laugh, uncapping the plate in your lap and preparing a spoonful of curry for him. “Better get started then. I’ve got my job down perfectly.” You spoon it into his mouth, but a bit falls to his knee. He just glares up at you while you eye him sheepishly.

“Yeah. Real perfect.”

You laugh, settling in to watch him do what he does every day.

You eat quietly while he lays the stencil of the Inarizaki fox over a blank spot on his inner wrist. It’s a very simple line tattoo – he hadn’t wanted to do anything complicated for your first, so it’s very much just a small sketch of a fox, similar to the one he’d done on that napkin at the convention.

“Shouldn’t take more than an hour each,” He mumbles, peering at the stencil in the reflection of a nearby mirror, making sure it’s lined up where he wants it. “Should also hurt less, since there’s no shading or extended time under the needle.”

You nod, feeding him carefully as he draws his tools out and gets to work.

It’s amazing, watching him get lost in his own art.

He’d always been good at it, always talented. But you’d only really witnessed a handful of times when he would bow his head and refuse to come up for air, too focused on what he’s doing to speak more than a few words. He glances up every few moments, but only to look at the mirror, only to check his own work.

He’s done with his own tattoo in just over 20 minutes.

You stare down at the ink, freshly etched and surrounded by a thin layer of red, the irritation in his skin minimal after years of practice.

“How’s that?” He asks, staring down at it directly and then again in the mirror.

“That’s so cool,” You whisper, leaning toward it. “You just created that from nothing.” When he doesn’t respond, you glance up, finding a hint of embarrassment in his eyes. “You created something that’ll be on your skin forever.”

He smiles down at you, genuine and small. “I s’pose so.” He looks you over, looks at the twinkle in your eye. “Still wanna do this?”

You laugh, nodding. “Of course I do. I want you to create something for me, too.”

He rolls his eyes, cheeks warm, and leans forward to plant a kiss on your head as he stands to clean up. “Let’s finish eating first.”

You watch him wrap his tattoo carefully, a small square of plastic taped meticulously around his wrist. And then he settles back next to you, sighing as you feed him. He reaches for the two wine glasses, pouring small portions.

“Just a little. ‘s not good to drink before getting tattooed.”

You nod, only taking a few sips before setting it down. “Have you wanted to tattoo me a long time?”

He smiles, breathing out a laugh as he eats. “Since college.”

“Really? You never told me.”

He shrugs. “Figured if you wanted one, you’d come to me.”

You smile teasingly. “What if I’d gone to someone else?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “You would never. That’s against the rules.”

You laugh, combing your fingers through his hair.

“I’d never thought about getting one before you brought it up.” You prod carefully at his lip ring and the multitude of ear piercings. “I’ve never thought about getting any of this done.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” You shrug. “I always thought those were things that would look bad on me. Because they only look good on pretty people.”

He lifts a brow. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah-” You gesture to him. “-I always had the evidence right next to me.”

“I think you’d look great with piercings,” He argues. “You’d look really hot with a nose piercing.” He straightens and claps his hands. “Let me pierce you.”

You laugh, pushing him away. “Maybe for our second date-” You level him with a stern look when he starts to get excited. “ Maybe , Rintarou.”

“Alright, alright,” He sighs, giving in. And then he looks you over, glancing behind him at the second stencil. “Shall we?”

A shock of nerves runs through you, but you’re more excited than anything else. Excited to have Suna’s art on your body, proud that everyone will see it.

“I’m ready.”

He cleans up lunch while you examine your body, trying to decide where to get it.

“And I can’t get it on my wrist, too?”

“ No ,” He calls from the back. “ It’ll hurt too much. ”

“But you got it on your wrist!”

“ One of us has twenty-two tattoos, my love, and it’s not you. ”

“Hm,” You respond stubbornly, examining other places. “What about here?” You ask when he returns. You point at your left forearm, just under your elbow.

Suna hums, weighing the decision. “I suppose that’s not the worst spot.”

You beam up at him. “I’ve decided.”

“I think it’s me who decided.”

“ We’ve decided.”

Suna just laughs, settling down into the chair with the stencil. “Okay, baby – we decided. Hold out your arm.”

You watch him work, careful and quiet like he’d been with his own. He lays the stencil flat, spreading the little fox drawing over your forearm before pulling away so you can see. You investigate the little purple sketch, loving how it looks on you already.

“Perfect,” You breathe, smiling lovingly down at him. He grins back before turning to his station. He sets up a needle, testing it quickly before turning back to you.

“It’s gonna hurt, so just tell me when you want to take a break, okay? Breaks are completely normal.”

“You didn’t take any breaks,” You argue.

“Do you want to count my tattoos, babe?” He smiles innocently when you scowl at him, and then he bows his head low, eyes serious.

It’s not the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, but you ask for a break after five minutes. You sigh when the buzz of the needle quiets.

“That was pretty good – look how much I got done.”

You stare down at the half-done fox on your arm, seeing that he’d gotten a large portion of the outside drawn. There’s significantly more red skin than he’d had, but you know he’ll just obnoxiously start counting his many tattoos if you point it out.

“Feelin’ alright?” He asks, gauging your pain levels by the pinch of your brows. You nod, staring down at the half-purple fox. That tinge of excitement is back – the one that’s ready to show the world how much of a mark Suna Rintarou has left on your life.

“I’m ready to start again.”

Suna smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek before bowing his head again.

You end up taking just one more break, ten minutes later, and then – before you realize it – he’s pressing cold plastic against your arm, wrapping the tattoo with care.

“Not so bad, huh?” He asks, taping it down gently. You lift your arm to your face, examining the black ink in your skin.

You beam up at him, overwhelmed by the permanence of it. “It’s so pretty.”

Suna blinks down at you, surprised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Will you do more?”

He laughs, nodding. “Of course I will. I’ll do anything you want.”

You pass a finger over the plastic, noting that it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. When you glance up at him again, you take him in properly – this man with his striking piercings and countless tattoos, years of dedication to his work present on his own body.

Present on your body, now, too.

You look him over, suddenly entranced by him.

“Anything?”

He narrows his eyes, looking you over with suspicion. “...Yes?”

You glance toward the shop windows, deciding that they’re simply too close. You stand from the chair, taking him by the hand and leading him to his office.

It’s only when you shut the door that he speaks again.

“Why do I get the feeling that this has nothing to do with the tattoo?”

You walk him to the couch and promptly shove at his chest, watching him fall to the cushion with a light ‘ oof ’.

“It has everything to do with the tattoo.”

And then you drop to your knees in front of him.

Suna’s eyes go wide, and he sits up a bit straighter. “Y/n-”

“Can I thank you? For the tattoo?” You spread your fingers out over his thighs, sliding them carefully toward his hips.

He swallows, watching the path you take. “Would this be a really bad time to tell you that this was one of my college fantasies, too…?”

You stop short, staring up at him with parted lips. “Really?”

“I had a very active imagination in college.”

You laugh in disbelief, the sound growing into something much larger as you lean your head on his knee. “You’re insane-”

“Is the moment gone? Have I lost my chance?” He’s clearly joking, but you can hear the slight disappointment in his tone, so you shake your head.

“Never.” You hook your fingers into his waistband. “Now take these off before I lose my nerve.”

“ Yes, ma’am ,” He breathes, lifting his hips. You smile up at him.

“So obedient lately.”

“I’ve always been obedient – you’re just oblivious.” He laughs nervously, but you hear the truth in it once more. That he’d always been beside you, always been yours – just as you’d always been his.

You only get his sweats down to his knees, losing your patience.

Sitting up, you take his cock in your hand, stroking gently while Suna lets his head fall back against the couch.

“ Shit ,” He breathes, laughing quietly. “I’m never gonna get used to this.”

“Good,” You laugh, leaning forward and licking a slow stripe up the shaft. “I like you like this.” You take the head of it into your mouth, sucking carefully. Suna moans loudly, tangling his fingers in your hair and gripping tight at the back of your head.

You bring him close to the edge just like that, taking him slowly to the back of your throat before pulling off, your hands stroking the rest of him with ease. He twitches and groans under you, the muscles in his arm straining as he holds the back of your head. Your name falls from his lips repeatedly, a breathy whisper for some and a needy moan for others.

Finally, he tightens his hold on your hair and pulls you off of him with a shaky groan. You blink up at him, teary-eyed, and give him a noise of confusion. He heaves out a sigh, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I don’t wanna come in your mouth,” He breathes heavily, eyes screwed shut. “I’ll mess up your makeup.”

You smile fondly up at him, already feeling your mascara smear on your cheeks. “I think it’s a little late for that, baby.”

He peers down at you, a choked laugh in his throat when he sees the state of you. “Still. I don’t wanna make it worse.”

You give him a shy grin, already crafting a better way to do this.

“That’s alright,” You say, rising just long enough to shed your sweats and underwear. He watches your panties slide down your thighs with rapt interest. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?” He smiles, still distracted. “So do I, suddenly.”

When you clamber into his lap, straddling both sides of his thighs, he groans quietly. His hands find your waist, guiding you carefully to him. He lets his fingers find their way back into your hair, tangled and drawing you in for a kiss as you’re sinking down onto him.

“ Fuck, ” He murmurs into your mouth, rocking his hips back and forth. You shiver at the feeling but put your hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“I got it,” You whisper when he blinks up at you in confusion. It turns to surprise in an instant, and his eyes track your expression.

“You sure?”

You’ve been in this position before, countless times. You’ve occupied his lap more than you’re probably comfortable with, but you’d never once taken control here. You’d always left it in his eager hands, burying your face in his neck and letting him do as he pleased. You’d never been ready to ride him, not really – you’d been worried about too much.

Yet here you are, not a single question lingering in your eyes.

You just smile down at him, nodding as you lift up onto your knees. Suna’s eyelashes flutter when you do.

“Yeah, Rin,” You breathe, sinking back down onto him. A needy whine falls past his lips, his hold on your waist tightening. You beam, overwhelmed with satisfaction that you’re the one to make him like this.

“ I got it .”

Suna Rintarou doesn’t last long like this, you realize.

His hands shake on your skin, fingers dancing from your waist to your thighs and back without reserve. His eyes are locked tight on yours, lips parted as broken moans build in his throat. His chest heaves with every drop of your thighs back onto his, and your name pushes from his mouth into yours with every desperate kiss.

“ Y/n, I’m -” He breathes after only a few minutes, fingertips digging into your thighs. “ I’m gonna -”

You drop your mouth to his throat, sucking lightly and panting a response into his ear.

“ Thank you for the tattoo, Rin. ”

Suna’s groan echoes off the walls of his office, arms curled tight around you as his back arches up into yours. You feel him twitch and spill into you, and you follow soon after, whining into the crook of his neck as the world goes white.

His fingers are combing gently through your hair and his mouth is pressing careful kisses into your skin when you come back to him.

“ Hi, beautiful ,” He murmurs against your shoulder, and you lift your head slowly to look down at him.

“Was that okay?” You ask, breathless. He just grins back, eyes crinkling with amusement.

“That was-” He shakes his head, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes while he laughs. “That was the most intense orgasm of my entire life.”

“Really?” You giggle, shifting slightly on top of him and smiling when he tenses.

“I don’t even think I have words to describe what that was like.”

“Good,” You say, leaning down to kiss him. But his hands tighten around you when you move to lean away.

“What time is it?” He asks.

You furrow a brow, straining to glance at the clock on the wall. “3:30.”

“And what time is dinner?”

You turn to look at him with suspicion. “6. Why ?”

He just shoots you a wicked grin. “No reason.”

He’s climbing between your legs before you can even realize he’d flipped you onto your back.

–

When you arrive at the restaurant a few hours later – an upscale spot that Atsumu and Sakusa frequent – your reapplied makeup is still setting and your skin is still warm from making extensive use of Suna’s office couch.

He leads you by the waist into the restaurant, holding you close while the hostess leads you to a private room in the back. Both twins and their partners are already there, making your arrival of 6:03 PM so much more suspicious than it should.

“First date went well, I take it?” Atsumu asks immediately, and you take the seat next to him with a subtle glare.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“I think he’s talking about your tattoos!” Yachi exclaims, pointing with wonder to the plastic wrapped around both of your arms.

You breathe a laugh, nodding and showing the art to Osamu and Sakusa. Atsumu just sips at his wine, mumbling under his breath.

“Your skin’s glowing, babe. New bronzer?”

You nudge him hard, smiling shyly when Suna catches your eye across the table. He’s talking quietly with Osamu, pointing at different items on the menu, but his eyes stay on yours.

You look away, smiling to yourself, and find both Sakusa and Atsumu staring at you with knowing eyes.

“Oh, shut up,” You grumble, flipping pages in the menu.

The dinner passes with no more mention of it, the six of you enjoying good food and good wine while you talk about upcoming games and different life events.

“So, uhm-” Suna clears his throat finally, tapping a finger almost nervously on the side of his glass. “I have a slight announcement.”

You blink at him, confused. He hadn’t mentioned making any announcements to you.

Atsumu claps obnoxiously. “You’re proposing!”

Your stomach flips dangerously, and you meet Suna’s eyes across the table.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Not yet.”

Your nerves flutter at the implication.

“And when I do propose,” He argues, pointing between Atsumu and his brother. “It’ll be nowhere near the two of you.”

Osamu gives him an irritating wink while Atsumu whines about trustworthiness, but they both sober quickly when Suna clears his throat again.

“Well, we talked about this already- you and me-” He meets your eyes before letting them fall again to his lap. “But I thought it’d be good to uh…”

He reaches into his pocket, extracting a small box. You know now not to expect a ring box – though the thought of eventually getting one makes your heart swell with love – but you don’t expect it to be a flat, rectangular thing.

He passes it across the table to you, and you take it with slightly trembling fingers.

“We talked about…” You have a feeling you know what this is now, but the weight of the moment makes it almost feel like more than it had before. It feels real, like there’s no room for doubt or concern left anywhere in what you have with him.

Here, at a table full of all your closest friends – at a table with the twins, who had been with you since the very beginning – Suna Rintarou makes it official.

There’s a key inside, attached to a key ring with a charm in the shape of a cup of coffee.

You meet Suna’s eyes, your own prickling slightly with tears.

Yachi smacks Osamu on the shoulder a few times. “Oh, I love this-”

Atsumu leans back toward Sakusa, whispering annoyingly. “ You’re next, fucker. ”

“Rin,” You say, smiling brightly at him. He sighs in relief, rubbing at his brow.

“Is that a yes?”

You laugh. “I already said yes last time.”

“I know but,” He laughs sheepishly to himself. “That wasn’t exactly, uh… a clear-headed agreement.”

You laugh loudly, Osamu’s noise of disgust and Atsumu’s cheerful ‘ Woo! ’ echoing through the room. Yachi comes around the table to tackle you in a tight hug, and Sakusa pours drinks for the group to celebrate.

These people here now – celebrating this milestone of your relationship with Suna Rintarou – are the same who help carry your boxes through the door of his apartment two months from now. The same who stand at your wedding, two years from now (Atsumu stubbornly in a bridesmaid’s dress and Osamu just beside Suna – brothers chosen, not born). The same who bicker quietly outside your hospital room, not too many years after that – Sakusa just inside, crying softly into his sleeve as he stares down at a baby boy named Kiyoomi, a baby boy that has positively no clue he’s about to be raised by six of the most unruly humans to ever meet.

By two parents who, once upon a time, were nothing more than a boy and a girl walking silently to school together.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #suna rintarou #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x reader

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lovlive · 1 year ago

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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ‘concert going’ - l.hc

SYNOPSIS - you and your boyfriend haechan finally get tickets to a concert and see the artist you love

PAIRING - lee haechan x reader

GENRE - fluff, established relationship

WARNINGS - i guess you could say that the reader is short (😭), reader is called ‘baby’, lmk if i missed something.

notes: i am so down bad for hyuck rn. like why is he so fine?! anyways, i used a random prompt generator to write this since my brain is dead from school and i got “get on my shoulders, you’ll see better.” hope you guys like it :3

both you and haechan have been obsessed with a new musical artist you’ve recently discovered. you’d both often find yourselves sharing headphones on the bus like in those romance anime movies listening to that one artist, or having their songs quietly play in the background while you complete your homework or some type of work you have due. so when haechan surprised you with tickets to one of their concerts, you nearly jumped out of your shoes with excitement (like literally, you were jumping up and down for the following 5 minutes and hugging (squeezing) the hell out of your poor boyfriend)

the day of the concert eventually comes and you wake up with a huge dumb smile on your face. you stayed up quite late last night trying to clear out as much unwanted things on your phone to make storage for the new photos and videos yoy were going to take, but nonetheless you felt as if you had slept atleast 12 hours with how energised you felt. you jumped up out of bed, giggling to yourself as you reached for your pre-planned concert outfit. you manage to change into it as you hear your boyfriend groan groggily, complaining that its too early for you to be getting up yet. you ignore his mumbling and drag him out of bed as you both head to the kitchen and have a breakfast. you let haechan get ready, and before you know it both of you are out of the house and driving to your destination.

you get to the venue, the smile from the morning still plastered on your face. it feels as if its stuck on your face, like you’d have to physically wipe it off with a tissue for it to be gone. you stand in line together, hands intertwined as you babble on about how excited you are to haechan. he teases you about your enthusiasm and how cute you are, squeezing your hand every now and again. eventually you get past all the security and other obstacles, reaching the hall. you get lost a couple of times trying to reach your seats because you cant read signs to save your life, leading to haechan snatching the phone out of your hand and leading you to your correct assigned area. the venue becomes more full by the second and your heart begins to thump in your chest as you wait for the artist to appear.

eventually the artist appears and you start screaming like a feral dog, haechan laughing at you hard. as the booming bass and electrifying guitar riffs filled the air, you found yourselves caught in the midst of the pulsating crowd at the concert. standing far from the stage, you struggled to catch a glimpse of the stage over the sea of heads. "man, I can barely see anything," you exclaimed, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of the performers.

haechan grinned mischievously. "i’ve got an idea. get on my shoulders, you'll see better!" you hesitated for a moment, unsure about the idea. but the infectious energy of the crowd and the excitement of the music convinced you to give it a try. with a laugh, you climbed onto haechan’s broad shoulders, feeling a rush of adrenaline as you rose above the crowd.

suddenly, everything changed. from your new vantage point, you could see the stage perfectly. the vibrant lights danced across the performers' faces, and you could feel the music reverberating through your bones.

as you swayed to the rhythm of the music, you both became lost in the moment. for a brief, exhilarating moment, it was just the two of you and the music. as the concert reached its climax, you couldn't wipe the smile from your face. you felt alive, invigorated by the experience of being lifted above the crowd and immersed in the magic of the music. when the final notes faded away and the crowd began to disperse, you climbed down from haechan’s shoulders, feeling a sense of gratitude for your boyfriend's spontaneous idea. "thanks for the lift," you said, grinning at haechan. "anytime, baby, your as light as a feather to me." he replied, his own smile matching yours as you giggled at his response.

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

you finally get home, both of you still giggling and yapping to eachother about your favourite moments of the concert. haechan decides to go take a shower as you decide to get in your pajamas and get cozy. you hold a bag of concert merch, excited to display it in your room and start wearing it on a daily basis. but before you do any of that, you want to express your gratitude to your boyfriend, of course. without him you wouldnt of even went to the concert since he was the one who bought the tickets for you both. you notice haechan walking out of the bathroom, hair dripping onto the fresh t-shirt that he’s wearing. you cant help to think about how handsome he is. he stands over the kitchen counter, supposedly turning the kettle on to make a tea as you creep up behind him. you stand on your tippy toes as you wrap your arms around his shoulders from the back, head turning to the side kiss his cheek. you take notice the immediate smile that appears on his face as he notices your actions. “whats up with you?” he teases as he spins around, now facing you and wrapping his arms back around your waist. “just wanted to say thank you for today.” you say, noticing his face leaning utterly close to yours. he chuckles at your response, feeling his hand tighten around you. “of course. you know id do anything to make you happy.” he smiled, closing the gap between you both and pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. you gently run one of your hands through his damp hair, enjoying the feeling of his warm lips against yours. the kiss breaks eventually, and you hear him mumble something out. “i love you.” the smile that has been on your face since this morning somehow grows even bigger as you respond. “i love you too.”

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effy-writes · 1 year ago

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HIIIII!!!!!! OKAY OKAYY SOO.. MALE READER BTW!!

fizz x ozzie x reader

So He has very unique features, In hell you look very doll like, think even more doll like then velvette, you are from the envy ring, but moved to the lust ring because its just better, he has white hair with pink streaks in it. and you like have a lot of white and pink

so you are crying because someone called you ugly and fizz is comforting you, and you have anxiety so you took this to heart, and spiralled because you're scared your boyfriends think you're ugly, so ozzie walks in, and then is begging to know who hurt you, and he comforts you too, once you calm down, they send verosika to hang out with you since you're best friends andand while you two hang out fizz and ozzie are beating up the dude who called you ugly<3

ofc!! sorry this took too long!! im kinda not happy how this turned out, for some reason i struggled with this but i hope you enjoy!! <3

~~~~~~

fizz x ozzie x m! reader: oh doll

cw: scratching to relieve tension

living in the envy ring wasn’t so great to you. lots of trauma happened and you had to get out of there. the saying is true, places holds memories, so the moment you turned 18 you moved into the lust ring.

your life became better, but you still suffered from anxiety attacks due to the trauma that you endured from envy. you needed to find something to distract yourself so you decided to be a performer at “ozzie’s”.

you obviously had to audition, so you went with a pole routine. ozzie loved your performance and so you were hired on the spot! you felt like you were on top of the world and nothing could bring you down.

ozzie introduced you to fizz, and you guys hit it off! one thing led to another, and now you’re in a polyamorous relationship with them. at first you were nervous about this whole thing because you never been in a poly relationship. you were afraid of becoming too jealous, but they treated you so good and completely washed away your anxious thoughts.

you also told them about how you have anxiety problems due to your life living in the envy ring and warned them that you’re sensitive to certain things. they were both understanding and even fizz told you about his trauma so you’re not alone.

~~~

you had about 3 hours to spare before you had to perform again at “ozzie’s”, so you went walking to clear your head.

you strolled the streets of lust and went shopping for some new outfits. pink and white was your color, so you always seek out those colored clothes.

“oh shit, it’s the off brand angel dust!” an imp laughed.

you rolled your eyes to yourself and continued shopping. you were use to this kind of treatment, being called the “off brand angel dust” was so basic. at first it did hurt you, but overtime you stopped giving a fuck.

the imp and his friend kept following you around the store. your heart raced, but you tried to not show any reaction.

“angel dust from shein.” he snickered.

you left the store without any new clothes because you didn’t want to deal with them. you made your way back to “ozzie’s” and got ready in the designated dressing room.

“y/nnn, can i come in?” fizz shouted.

“of fucking course.”

fizz opened the door and wrapped his arms around you from the behind while you were putting on drag makeup.

“how was your walk? did you buy anything lustful.”

you didn’t dare to tell him what had happened today because him and ozzie will go haywire. “couldn’t find anything that i didn’t own.” you laughed.

fizz let go and sat on your lap facing you, “seems about right to how much ozzie spoils you.” he laughed, “are you ready for your performance?”

“i am! it’s gonna be sooo sexy. so you better keep it in your pants.” you stick your forked tongue out.

“gonna be hard.” he laughed, “you’re on in 30 minutes.” he lightly kissed your lips since you were wearing lipstick and didn’t want to ruin it. fizz got up from your lap and left your dressing room.

you let out a sigh and slouched as you stared at yourself in the mirror. those imps really got to you but you can’t let them hold that much power over you.

the performance went perfect, you didn’t slip or miss any beats. fizz and ozzie watched from the wings and as always they had to stop themselves from fucking you right then and there.

you blew a kiss to the audience before strutting away to the wings. your boyfriends pulled you into a tight hug before letting you go to get unready.

you walked back to your dressing room but stopped in your tracks once you saw the same imps.

“just saying, angel dust is a way better dancer than you. he has the body, the legs, the stamina, he is the og. but you? an uglier version of angel.” he laughed.

you clenched your fist, “you guys can’t be back here.”

the other one spoke, “look, we’re just trying to help. nobody wants to see the same pink and white whore, we already got one who is better than you. you should be thanking us!”

you shoved pass them and locked yourself in the dressing room. your breathing increased as you clutched onto your heart. “deep breathes” you whispered to yourself.

no, no this can’t be happening again. it’s been months since you had an anxiety attack just stay calm, you kept thinking to yourself. i’m not ugly, they’re just trying to get under my skin. you’re okay.

but no matter how many times you told yourself this it didn’t work. you groaned loudly and scratched at your skin to relieve tension.

“y/n? doll?” ozzie said from the other side of the door, “you doing alright? can i come in?”

you wiped away your tears and opened the door. ozzie came in and saw your teary eyes and ruined makeup. “oh doll, what happened?”

your breathing increased again, “it’s nothing, i’m fine.”

“you’re not fine, what is it? did something happen?” he held your hands.

“just some…” you couldn’t finish your sentence, just break down again and hyperventilating. ozzie picked you up and pulled you into a hug, “shh, it’s okay, i’m here. but you gotta tell me what happened because NOBODY will hurt you again.”

“just mean shit.” you managed to say through your sobs.

“oh honey..breathe with me.”

you followed his breathing and eventually calmed down. your head was aching from how much you were crying. ozzie sat you down on the bench and got on his knees to be at your level. he took your hands into his and squeezed them, “who said these things?”

“an imp with short white hair and wearing a blue shirt? and the other has longer white hair who wasn’t wearing a shirt.” you took shaky breath in and out.

“i’m gonna BEAT those FUCKERS UP” ozzie screamed before calming down, “sorry for yelling it’s just-”

“i know, ozzie.” you softly smiled but dropped it, “i don’t feel good about my self.” you sniffled, “i don’t understand why you and fizz want a “shein version of angel dust”.”

“doll, STOP thinking like that! you’re better than that! fizzy and i think you are the most beautiful, handsome, attractive, sexy looking demon here! how about you hang out with verosika tonight and fizz and i will go handle them, does that sound good?”

you nodded as ozzie stood up to call verosika. you couldn’t help but to scratch yourself to relieve tension again. he hung up and got down to your level again, pulling your hands away from your arms so you would stop hurting yourself, “verosika is coming over in about 30 minutes, just sit tight. will you be okay being here until then?”

“i will, thanks again.”

“of course, doll! you mean everything to fizzy and i.” he smiled. “please stop scratching yourself, okay?”

you nodded and hugged yourself with your arms and your tail.

ozzie ending up leaving you in this dressing room. you needed to get out of this costume and take off your ruined makeup but was too tired to do anything. you were glad you’re able to hang out with your best friend, but still so mentally tired.

another knock was heard, “hey bitch,” verosika said, “can i come in?”

“yeah,” you got up and open the door. verosika handed you a flask.

“you doing alright?”

“not really.”

“want to get dress in some sexy ass clothes and go to a bar?” she sweetly smiled.

“i guess..sorry im just so tired after i get anxiety attacks.”

She rubbed your shoulder, “i know, baby…do you want me to dress you up!” her smile gotten bigger, in which making you smile.

you agreed and watch verosika squeal out of happiness. she went through all of your clothes that was in the dressing room and picked out the sexiest one you have. “bitch, PLEASE wear this.”

“uh..i don’t know. i don’t think i’ll good in it.”

“oh come on, please? trust me you’re already fucking hot. wear this.” she threw it to you.

“fine.” you took it out of her hands and got dressed while she turned around.

“ya know..fizz and ozzie really loves you.”

“i hope so.”

“i know so. they always talk about you.”

you finished putting on the outfit and got her attention. she turned back around and gasped, “i need to ask if i can join in on the polyamory.” she laughed, “let me do your makeup.”

you sat down on the bench as verosika gathered the makeup from the vanity. she picked out all shades of pink and did your eyeshadow/eyeliner/mascara before doing your face. you turned back around to look at yourself in the mirror, still feeling ugly but you know that’s not true.

you and verosika made your way to the nearest bar and got drinks. she obviously got shit faced but you tried to just get tipsy and not too drunk. “you know, y/n, im really glad i met you.” she rested her head on your shoulder.

“i’m glad too. if it wasn’t for fizz and ozzie then we wouldn’t have been friends.”

“you have no idea on how much they love you.” she drunkly said, “they’ll do anything to protect you.”

“yeah..i think they’re beating up those guys right now.” you laughed.

“oh most definitely.”

you took another sip of your margarita, “i feel much better.”

“is the alcohol talking or you?”

“probably both.” you snickered, “but i do feel much better. thanks again for inviting me out.”

“of course, bitch. come on,” verosika slid off of the bar stool and wobbled a bit, “let’s take you back to fizz and ozzie.” she reached her hand out for you, in which you gladly took.

“verosika, i think maybe i should take you back to your place,” you laughed, “you’re shit face.”

“yeah but this day is for you,” she slurred.

“you could just spend the night with us.” you smirked.

“that’ll probably be better because i see four of you.”

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #fizz x ozzie x reader #fizzarolli x asmodeus x reader #fizz x reader #ozzie x reader #fizzarolli x reader #asmodeus x reader #verosika platonic #platonic verosika

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thenickgirl · 1 year ago

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FWB!Matt HeadCanons

matt x fem!reader

disclaimer: this is all fictional, and based on my own conclusions.

warnings: not proofread, suggestive, cursing

a/n: hi, so um i can’t promise how good this will be lmao. i realized half way through that i can really only write for nick 😭

a/n: hiii again, this was a fun lil collab with @nickypooh, she posted a chris version on her account. you should go check it out! ❤️‍🔥

✭ you and matt weren’t best friends but you were sorta close, and it was no doubt you found one another very attractive.

✭ it started one drunken night after a mutual friend’s party, you and matt were dancing then one thing led to another. that was months ago.

✭ you both agreed to not catch feelings, just wanting to keep things physical.

✭ nick finds out after catching you two in bed one morning, but after cursing you both out, he lets it go.

✭ matt is definitely the jealous type, even though you both have made it very clear you’re just friends.

✭ he’s so possessive, he could care less that you’re not actually his girl.

✭ when he’s upset, he loves to take his frustration out on you, and you definitely don’t mind that.

✭ ther’s lots of 3 am “hey u up?” or “wyd?” texts

✭ he hates when you go on dates with other guys, he’ll always try to find a way to keep you from going. just to tick him off more, you would send him your outfit, and after only minutes later your doorbell is ringing.

“you really thought i was gonna let you go out with that fucking loser? hm? no one can fuck you as good as i can, princess.”

✭ at parties, he keeps a close eye on you, watching you dance with some random guy. next thing you know, you’re being pushed against a bedroom wall, his ringed hand snaking it’s way around your throat.

“i told you, stop fuckin playin’ with me, you’re mine and mine only.”

✭ on the nights when you’re not over at his place, he’s constantly texting you, asking for you to come over.

✭ he likes to act dominant, but it’s hard for him not to sub a little when it comes to you.

✭ when you snap him nudes, he’s rushing over to your place, before you know it you’re on all fours, asking him to fuck you harder.

✭ he likes to leave hickies/marks all over you, and watch you struggle to explain where they came from.

✭ even though nick and chris know what’s going on between the two of you, you keep it a secret from your other friends.

✭ this little arrangement seems to work out very well for the both of you.

🏷️: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @sturniolossss @mybelovednick @imsosillygoofylol @ghostking4m @orangelala @matty-bear @moonk1ss3d @certifiednatelover

#stromboli hc #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #mega matty #fwb!matt hc #a headcanon

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ar-cadez · 8 months ago

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Negaverse Megavolt concept!

Design notes and personality rant stuff under the cut. Warning. It's long and unreadable.

The purse thing is a generator (Ill probably design it as a prop at some point considering It does NOT look like one but portable generators are hard for me to draw for some reason)

I swapped which eye has the white in it (even though I usually draw it on the wrong side anyway bc idk my lefts from rights..)

I wanted to make the darks very prominent bc the yellows are very prominent in the original

I went with blues bc it's the only other colour usually associated with lightning and electricity.

The teal parts of his outfit are lights! They glow when he's fully charged and fade out when he's out of power.

You can't see it in this pose but his hands have outlets on the back that work the same as megavolt's chest outlet. He can power weapons with them and charge himself without the pain of straight up shocking himself

I wanted to make his hair look like it's thinning out bc of age and repeated electrical damage but I wasn't sure how to do that so it's not really present. Did give him some white hair though.

His glasses are prescription! Can't see nothin without em..

Okay now some personality stuff!

Megavolt is the hardest villain to swap bc his personality is "insane guy with memory issues but is smart" and it's kinda hard to flip that around without just making him boring? Removing his intelligence when it comes to electricity would also negate his whole gimmick which makes things worse. but I do have a few ideas. It's ironic I struggle with him so much considering he's literally my favourite character...

He was popular in high school. He was friends with negaduck and they were both pretty well liked jock types before negaduck started doing major crimes (though I imagine he was always a delinquent of sorts. Just didn't start destroying the city till he graduated) clash reunion is a whole beast on it's own bc megavolt has the most in depth backstory which means a lot of reworking for a personality swap au.

His interests, like dw's megavolt, lie in magnesium, electronics, and engineering. The difference is, despite being Intruiged by these subjects, he didn't go out of his way to learn about the. He was more focused on his peers approval back then. Not to mention the fact that negaduck was an extremely toxic friend and would absolutely make fun of him constantly for it. (He doesn't even actually care, he's just an asshole.)

Eventually after gaining his abilities he began to study electricity and start inventing things. Only.. He's pretty bad at it. Things tend to backfire on him. Quackerjack has a lot more experience than him when it comes to engineering and he tries to help him out but the guy's kinda cursed. I haven't really decided if it's more dt17 gyro where everything he makes ends up turning against him or guy am I from the Netflix green eggs and ham show where everything he makes just kinda explodes. Maybe a bit of both. Either way it's very over the top and is more trouble than it's worth, but that doesn't stop him! (Oh God someone stop him)

I didn't wanna just take away his mental issues completely because the opposite of that is literally nothing. It adds.. Nothing. It just gives him less to work with. And it's already hard enough to do this guy. (Plus it kinda implies mentally ill people can't be heroes and that's.. Mm....) So instead I decided to change how he reacts to it.

He still has memory issues along with other physical and mental symptoms of electrical injury, he just really likes to pretend he doesn't. He completely ignores his deteriorating mental, physical, and emotional health <33

I wanna flesh him out more but I'd only be able to do that if I write with him and I'm fantastic at procrastinating my writing projects <33

#digital art #art #drawing #negaverse #megavolt dwd #negaverse megavolt #fanart #dwd91 #dwd fanart #megavolt #dwd #redesign #fan design #i kinda avoid saying negaducks real name in the parts where I talk about them in high school bc idk if it would be the same as DW or not

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aceandurmom · 2 months ago

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Obsession Wears a Crown (Two)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Obsessive yanderes, mutual obsession, Doflamingo crimes

ONLY POSTED ON TUMBLR UNDER ACEANDURMOM <3

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“So, care to tell me why exactly I did not know as soon as this meeting of yours was scheduled?”

Doflamingo paused, sunglasses still in your robe. There was nothing to hide behind as you stared him down, irritated still at the fact you were kept in the dark.

“Mi amor-”

He started, voice taking on that light purr it always did when he was trying to keep in your good graces.

“Stop that. I want an answer, Doffy.”

He deflated, bringing his forehead to your knees and dragging his palms up your calves.

“Forgive me, mi reina, I only wished to keep you away from them as long as possible. Should you forget, I am a selfish man.”

Laughing to yourself, you brought his head up so you could see him once more.

“Hm, still I see no excuse. Should you have told me as such I would have stayed out of it, but here we are with both of us unsatisfied with the turnout. You know more than anyone else that I would bend however you would like, I would kill myself should you desire it. And yet you kept it from me.”

He whined in the back of throat, eyes flitting about the room.

“I apologize.”

And there was nothing else he could say to sate you. What’s done was done, and both of you knew of such.

“Alright then, there is nothing to pout about, my love. Stand up, you're the King of Dressrosa, tonto.”

He did as told, hand coming to wipe his face and reset himself. You remained on the bed, pulling at the sash holding the robe together. Standing, you tossed the robe onto the bed and walked to the closet he had devoted entirely to you. He groaned as he took in the sight of you, still mesmerized by the hold you manage to have on him. How long had it been since you had given yourself to him entirely, and yet he still responded to you as if he was a teenage boy.

You felt his eyes on you, hearing as he rummaged through the discarded robe for his glasses. He pushed them where they belonged and came up behind you. Hands found your smaller waist, encircling your entire torso and thumbs caressing your skin. You pushed through the various clothing options, opting for something that complimented his own choices.

Sifting through the hangers, you tugged on the pink button up. It had the same pattern as his pants, the stripes once being an eyesore for you. Now you found his atrocious choices endearing, adoring how he dressed. You pulled out the white dress pants, freshly ironed and washed from yesterday. You quickly got dressed, playfully pushing the hovering man away in order to do so. You kept a few buttons undone in order to show off some of your chest, it made you feel cuter, no matter how much Doffy hated it in public. Turning around, you hummed and thought of what shoes to pair with the outfit.

The blonde saw your struggle and reached for his personal favorite. They were thick orange heels, a strap coming across the ankle when on your feet. He dangled them in front of your gaze, still contemplative. Upon seeing the pair, you sighed good naturedly. You should have known he would pick something like this, already knowing of his personal preferences. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to decline such a request. Nodding, you plucked them from his hand and sat down to adjust them. He allowed you to do no such thing.

Sitting across from you in a lounge chair, he gently took your ankle and lifted it. Picking up a heel, he pressed in onto your foot and situated the strap, buckling into place without having to think too hard on it. Once done, he pressed a chaste kiss to your foot and did the same motions for the other.

Standing up, he followed you out of the door. You were much more calm than the first time you had done this this morning. It should have started out like this the first time, but you paid it no mind. If you think too hard on it you would only get aggravated again. The poor guy was already trying so hard to make up for it, so there was nothing else to do. The servant from before stood in the hallway, halfway through knocking when you emerged with the King in tow. He calmed himself before bowing his head. He gestured to the stairwell and up with a nod of his head, he had directed the Warlords and the Admirals to the guest rooms upstairs then. Good.

“Perfect. I shall go fetch them for breakfast. Go set the table, criado.”

He nodded, rushing out to the stairs and running down two at a time.

You leaned back into Doffy for a minute, watching the man go in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet. Usually you like to torment him a bit more.”

“I have someone else I can aggravate now, I need to focus on that dick instead.”

“Lead the way then, mi amor.”

It took only a minute to be in front of the first door, knocking politely while Doflamingo made arrangements downstairs. It took a bit of convincing but you managed to usher him away, reassuring him you would be fine by yourself. You didn’t want the man to constantly hover for once, having no problem with it any other time. But you felt as if you should prove that you did not need the man to be respected.

Dracule emerged, his hat left on the inn table and coat neatly folded away. He had foregone the dramatic attire and instead wore a white button up. It suits the man.

“Espadachin, I hope everything is to your liking?”

“It is suitable, thank you for your hospitality. I know Doflamingo would have us stay elsewhere.”

“Indeed, he had planned to have you all housed somewhere else on the premises, but you all are Warlords too, are you not. I think you deserve a little bit more than a hotel stay.”

“It is appreciated, truly.”

“Of course. Breakfast is ready, you can follow me or wait here for me to come back with the others. Do as you wish.”

You did not stay and wait to hear a response, instead moving down and knocking on the next door.

“Ah, Mx. Donquixote, I was not expecting you yet. That was rather fast.”

You smiled, relaxing around the fishman. He was always so polite. Had you not been with Doffy you could see yourself with the man in another life.

“Mr. Jinbe. I apologize if I caught you off guard, you can take however much time you need. There is no hurry.”

“Nonsense, I will be with you in just a second. Go ahead and get the others.”

Turning on your heel, you crossed the hall to fetch the others.

Boa Hancock had accepted you eagerly, eyes calculating as she followed behind you on your task. She said nothing as you gathered the rest, but she never strayed far from your side. Another person you found incredibly attractive and intelligent, it took a lot for a woman to get to where she is now. You respected her.

The rest of the Warlords had congregated down the hall, loitering where Mihawk had situated himself by his own door. They were discussing something in hushed tones, but you paid no mind.

“Fleet Admiral Sengoku. I hope everything is acceptable?”

He nodded but said nothing else to you, bypassing you entirely to stand next to the others. Scoffing, you knocked on the next door. Kizaru had been kind, thanking you and heading on his way. Aokiji was kind as well, offering you a nod in recognition. Finally, you stood in front of Akainu’s door. You knew he could sense you outside in the hall, but it seemed as if he was waiting for you come to him.

“Admiral Sakazuki, breakfast is ready.”

You did not knock or attempt to open the door. Instead, you spoke through the door and waited for him to respond. Not waiting on him to answer, you walked back to where the rest were, Boa on your heels. She stood directly behind you instead of beside like before, she was protecting your back as you walked away from Akainu. Something you noticed immediately. It seems as if the man had pissed off several people then.

Stepping in front of the little huddle, you broke them up and grinned.

“If you’d follow me I’ll show you to the dining room. Forgive me but I do not know whether the officers are going to be present. If they are then I must warn you, they are rather lively.”

“As much as we appreciate the honesty, it is nothing we haven’t dealt with before.”

“If you say so, do not say I did not warn you.”

The walk down to the dining room was a long one. It took twelve flights of stairs to reach the designated floor, and then five more to reach the ground floor. It had taken getting used to, but now it was a time for you to gather your own thoughts. Normally, they centered around Doflamingo and how much you adored the man, picturing him covered in blood as he massacred those who had annoyed you. Now your mind was plagued with worries of your crew somehow pissing off one of the people now following you. You hoped everyone would be on their best behavior, if they managed to somehow do something then not even Doflamingo would stop you from killing one of them.

Your descent of the stairs ceased as you reached the floor. You held out your hand to Boa to help her back onto stable ground. Her palms were soft, but that was to be expected since she fought with her legs more often than not. Not to mention that Devil Fruit of hers. You made eye contact with her and winked, not letting go of her hand until you reached the entrance to the dining room.

“Sit wherever you would like, I’m sure the Young Master has already spoken to the officers. If he hasn’t, then I will do so instead.”

You opened the door for them, allowing them to enter before you. You paid no mind to the flush on Hancock’s face, ignoring the pride you felt upon your influence on her. The rest filed in after her, some giving you thanks and others ignoring you completely. You ignored the rush of irritation as best as you could, knowing some were doing it on purpose. Before the last walked in, he looked down at you and smirked.

“Seems odd to have a royal such as yourself opening doors for us, allow me.”

Sir Crocodile took the door from you, hook holding open the door as he pressed a hand to the small of your back. You did as directed, not putting up much of a fight. If the man wanted to act a gentleman then that was fine by you, but there was something else in his eyes as he watched. It was a look you had seen in your lover’s eyes numerous times, and you brushed it away before you thought on it too hard, already feeling your chest swarm with emotions you hsouldn;t be feeling.

You knew of Sir Crocodile and Doflamingo’s previous trists, your husband telling you everything about himself the night before you married. Of course, nothing he said swayed your decision, but you thought of the things he said often. Only admiring him more after hearing of all the things he endured at such a young age. Crocodile was handsome, and from what you heard from others he was cunning as well. Brutal in the best of times. There’s no question as to what attracted Doffy to him, as you felt the same pull even now. The scent of sweet cigar smoke flooding your senses in the best way. Blinking hard, you forced a delicate smile as you officially entered the room.

Despite your best wishes and prayers to Nika, the officers of the Family were all present. Fortunately, they had remained quiet in their discussion as the Warlords filed in. They picked a spot together and the Navy officials distanced themselves, all except Aokiji. The man was lingering next to Kuma and was across from Diamante. Trebol sat next to Doflamingo, seat intricately carved with clubs indicating his title. Diamante’s seat was filled with diamond insignias per his title.

And the heart seat remained empty.

Doflamingo had told you all about his family, about his father and his brother. The deaths of both caused by him.

But you couldn’t hold the death of his father against him. To willingly bring his family down from Mariejois and then to a town and boldly declaring to the world who they were. When he knew how hated Celestial Dragons were and how much people loathed them. Enough so to kill even children.

Then there was his brother. You were conflicted about that one. You understood the hurt of being betrayed, you had never blamed him for acting out as such. The only thing you didn’t appreciate was the loss of Trafalgar D Water Law. The boy could have been a part of the family, and a damned good addition at that. But you knew the boy lived, the both of you in the bedroom when his wanted poster had been seen. The air had stilled and he gasped, the paper drifting to the floor. You had never met the boy, having come across Doffy shortly afterwards. Still, the man had been only a boy, and you were sure you would have adored him. You had told Doflamingo you wanted him back, he would be a perfect addition as the newest Corazon. Especially after hearing all about the Devil Fruit he had obtained in order to survive. He would be a good healer by now, an asset you desperately needed in your close circle.

You would baby him as soon as he joined the crew, you could see it now. Him a part of the family you knew he knew he belonged. You would make him comfortable here, he could be a son to you. Someone for you to nurture, someone for you to protect. You had revealed all of these feelings to Doffy, telling him everything that came to mind.

He remembered it all.

And so the Heart Seat remained open until the man you knew it belonged to arrived. You would do anything to make it happen.

You dismissed the hopes you’ve been constantly dreaming about. You approached Doflamingo’s side, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Everyone from upstairs has arrived, Young Master.”

“So it seems. Thank you, mi amor, you’re as dedicated as always.”

You stood as you waited, noticing two chairs unfilled. Growing impatient, you tapped your foot. You ignored the curious glances thrown your way. Still, you remained as you were as the waiters filled plates of the food- Dressrosian delicacies some would kill to get their hands on.

Your designated servant approached timidly, hand waving in your peripherals to your chair. It was directly across from Doflamingo’s and at the head of the table. You usually sat with the man himself, but the chair remained in case diplomats or potential alliances visited. But that wasn’t what you were contemplating at the moment.

“My dear, where are the kids?”

Crocodile blinked, looking between you and the man. Sengoku choked before covering it up as best as he could.

Trebol cackled, clearing the air.

“Don’t get any ideas, the Young Master doesn’t have biological children, and neither do they.”

“Doflamingo, I sincerely hope you haven’t forced children into this crew of yours.”

It was a muttered answer, but a threat nonetheless. Doffy shook his head, waving his hand.

“They’ll come in time, you know how those two are.”

“It is imperative that they are here. Their tardiness is not to be ignored. You cannot take up for them all the time, mi rey.”

“Doflamingo taking up for kids, huh? How out of character.”

Borsalino commented, chuckling into his glass.

As if hearing the disapproval in your voice, the two mentioned ‘kids’ came running into the door looking frazzled.

“S-Sorry! We didn’t mean ta be late, Ma!”

Despite the kids not being your own, they still very much treated you as if they were. Doflamingo had been dubbed their father, and they very quickly came to call you mother no matter your gender. It was something they had done for years and you refused to make them stop now.

“Hm.”

You eyed the both of them, watching as Dellinger scrambled to his chair and Baby 5 did the same. Baby was always closer to Doffy, benign a daddy’s girl at heart the moment she had been taken in. On the other hand Dellinger had quickly gotten attached to you. Even if Doffy had been the one to take him in, you had always had a soft spot for the boy. And he clearly felt the same. The boy was sweating under your gaze, feeling chastised and humiliated. He hadn’t meant to be late, truly, but Baby and him had gotten into an argument.

Seeing the table now full of the appropriate people, you then let yourself sit across from Doffy.

“I’m grateful they aren’t literal children. I do think it’s funny they call you such a thing, majested.”

Mihawk had been the one to speak, but you had no response. Boa nodded her head, continuing for you.

“Agreed, you definitely don’t strike me as a motherly type.”

Truthfully, that had hurt your feelings. You made no face to indicate this though, refusing to show even a hint of weakness. Even so, Doflamingo made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat.

Breakfast continued in silence, everyone tense. Even if you were the last to sit, you were first to finish.

“Excuse me, I must see to some business. Feel free to send for me by one of the servants if you need to speak with me. I will be going now.”

“And what exactly do you do, I wonder. None of us have heard of you and yet you seem to be rather important here. How odd.”

“What I do and what I don’t is none of your business, Admiral. Technically I’m not even a part of my husband’s crew, so whatever you might be thinking, dispel it now.”

And you left, leaving them to themselves as you thought of all the things to be done.

–

By the time the meeting was done, you hadn’t seen a single Warlord since your abrupt exit. You purposefully avoided a few of them when you caught sight of them in the castle, even if Boa or Crocodile looked like they wanted to speak to you. You did nothing to allow them the honor, going back to flitting about and completing necessary tasks for the kingdom.

The week ended and you found yourself not remembering very many details. You remained busy and preferred it that way. Even Doflamingo had seen less of you than normal, a fact that he did not appreciate in the slightest. It was time to retire for the night, and he had caught you before you had fallen asleep. Awake and writing away on the desk, he hovered for a moment.

“Mi amor, have I done something to upset you?”

“No, I am just busy. There a few things you have left unattended in Dressrosa for too long and now require my attention.”

“And pray tell what exactly I left.”

“Well for one, Viola is still out and about without proper supervision. Her running wild is something to correct, there is nothing good that can come out of her freedom. Two-”

“Si, si, mi amor. Lo siento, you’re right.”

Doflamingo moved in, removing your sweater from your shoulders and pressing a kiss to each one before stilling. He spoke against your flesh, goosebumps rising in the process.

“I wish to discuss something with you.”

You put down your quill, leaning back into him to hear him out. His mouth moved from your shoulder slowly up your neck and to your earlobe.

“One of the others were talking of Strawhat Luffy.”

“Okay?”

“And they mentioned that it wouldn’t be very long now until he and Trafalgar Law crossed paths.”

You perked up, pushing away the papers you were editing and turning in your chair. The blonde met your eyes through his glasses, smug at your sudden attention.

“I have an idea.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I want you to infiltrate the Strawhats. It looks like they’re approaching Alabasta soon, and they’re about to go against dear Croccy. I want you to join their crew and set the stage for them meeting Law and coming to Dressrosa.”

“And you think that I can last that long without you by my side?”

He groaned lowly, his eyes fluttering shut at the thought.

“We will find a way to stay in contact, even if that means I give you a personal baby DenDen that you hide at all times. I cannot have you stray from my side for so long without hearing at least your voice. I would go mad without that at the least. Best case scenario it will not take too long.”

“Worst case scenario they find where my loyalties truly lie.”

“Fuhuhu, we both know you are smarter than that.”

“And what if they hear of my connection to you, what then?”

“I have a plan.”

“Hm, even for this?”

“Yes.”

He paused, kissing your forehead before doing the same to your lips. He pushed his forehead to your own and whispered.

“You will pretend I have you trapped or enslaved. If the Strawhats don’t figure it out then I want you to reveal it to Law on purpose. Maybe both at the same time, but make it an accident.”

“And how will they know it is not a trick?”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

You both separated and laid down, holding each other and slowly falling asleep. Words of devotion pressed into your hair as he held you tight.

It was the middle of the night.

Waking abruptly, you shot up and turned towards Doffy with a wild and self-satisfied grin.

He woke as soon as you moved, jerking up and hands hovering over you, not knowing whether to comfort or kill someone.

“Brand me.”

His own grin grew unhinged.

“What an idea. Are you sure you would carry such a mark?”

“There’s no other way to ensure the plan will succeed, and it will endear me to them faster. I have experience acting as a slave so it will be easy. They will believe it, but this will be foolproof.”

“And you would bear my mark for the rest of your life?”

“I would wear your mark for the rest of my life without question. I desire to have your brand on my flesh so that the entire Blue knows who has my heart and soul. There is nothing more that I want than to be chained to you in every way. The plan we are to execute is the perfect reason to finally do so, I will keep my ring with you so this is the solution. Brand me, mi vida.”

He breathed heavily, shaking even under the covers. His eyes rolled back in his head in pure bliss, your words providing such ecstasy on their own. His eyelids fluttered before he focused back on you.

“I would love nothing more. You're perfect in every way, I’ve wanted to carve my name into your skin since the moment I met you. In turn you should do the same, I want your name written into my veins.”

You breathed into his mouth, drawing closer the longer he spoke.

“I want you to do it by hand, though. No branding like you do to your slaves, I want you to carve it in my back with a knife. I want to watch you do it.”

“Then it shall be yours.”

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buckychristwrites · 2 years ago

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Could This Be | Chap. Seven | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: Just a lil chapter. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

The last week had been a lot, to say the least.

Work had been average, but it was outside of work that had been hectic. With the bomb Jamie had dropped about the movie premiere, you found yourself in a rush to get a proper outfit. From the details you got from Keeley, it was necessary to dress up, but not necessarily in a completely formal fashion. It took the better part of the week, but you eventually found a dress that you deemed appropriate. It took up a majority of your free time, stressing over this stupid event that you didn’t even really want to go to.

Which brought you to this moment, in the car next to Jamie, on the way to the premiere of a movie that you didn’t even know the title of. All you knew about it was that it centred around European football, which meant many big name players were invited, including all of the AFC Richmond players.

It wasn’t until Jamie gently pulled at your hands that you noticed you were picking at your fingernails.

“Ya alright?”

The sudden contact was only jarring for a brief second, but you were becoming accustomed to the touches from Jamie. From cheek kisses to hand holding, they were all becoming part of the routine when around people, but the consequence of that was that the behaviour bled into the moments alone. So much so, in fact, that you weren’t being as strict with making him follow the rule of letting you know before he touched you. For the most part, though, he still did.

“Just anxious.”

You knew that he knew better. He saw it in the way you flinched when he had told you that many Premier League players, current and former, would be at this movie premiere. He saw it in the panic you had shown all week in regards to the topic. And he could see it now, as you sat tense in the seat. You hadn’t outright said anything about it, but the closer the two of you got to the theatre, the more fear and unease filled your chest.

Your fingers were still tenderly held in his. With your tongue pressed hard into your cheek, you were having a hard time looking at him, opting instead to continue staring out the window.

“Hey.”

Letting out a sigh, you finally looked over at him. Underneath his deep blue blazer was a white button up shirt, the top few buttons undone and the collar looking sloppy. But he looked striking in

It. You knew the whole night would be filled with everyone struggling for his attention.

But in this moment, it was all on you, as he leaned his head forward to make sure you were looking right into his eyes before saying, “It’s me and ya. I won’t let anythin’ happen to ya.” When you didn’t immediately respond, he raised his eyebrows.

You didn’t need him to say it. You already knew that much.

The theatre arrived faster than you were prepared for, and before you knew it, the car came to a complete stop. Through the tinted windows, you could see the crowd of people filling the red carpet with a swarm of cameras, photo and video alike, trying to capture every moment. As the driver climbed out of the car, you felt your heart in your throat. Jamie gave you one last look.

“Ready?” It was a whisper. You nodded.

“I am.”

The door opened, and you were suddenly blinded by the flashing of cameras that flooded the world around you. Once Jamie climbed out of the car, you were then deafened by the screams coming from fans, who were barricaded along the sidelines.

Jamie turned, giving you a loving smile and an outstretched hand. Only for a few seconds did you hesitate before you placed your hand in his and climbed out of the car. A moment was needed for your eyes to adjust, but once you could see again, you allowed yourself to have a proper look around.

Over the years, you had watched many movie premieres on the telly, or online. But being on the red carpet yourself was another experience in itself. The feeling was incredibly surreal. Celebrities that you had watched on the big screen surrounded you. Paparazzi were taking pictures of Jamie, but with you pressed into his side, they were also taking pictures of you. Jamie turned his head so his lips were just millimetres from your ear.

“You gotta smile.”

Without intending to, the words made you laugh. When you turned to look at Jamie, he was laughing as well. The flashes from the cameras were so bright that for a period of time, the only thing you could see was Jamie’s laughing face, eyes like crescent moons.

He led you down the carpet as you tried not to look at any of the video cameras that were following his every move. You kept close to him, the smell of his cologne overpowering everything else. In the near distance, photographers were shouting Jamie’s name, demanding his attention. He continued to walk though, with his hand pressed to the small of your back. An area was set up specifically for posing for photos, and Jamie approached the area to wait.

“Do you want me to wait elsewhere?” You asked him, pointing to the other side. He looked at you like you had grown three heads.

“Why would ya do that?” He asked. You put your hands together.

“So you can get your picture taken…” He waved a hand.

“Oh no,” He said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. “You’re taking pictures with me.” The surprise filled your face.

“Why?”

He leaned in close to your ear again before whispering, “Gotta include me girlfriend, yeah?”

Your cheeks grew very hot, and stayed that way up until Jamie and yourself made your way in front of the photo backdrop of the movie logo and other sponsor names. The yelling began immediately, begging Jamie to make specific poses or to turn in their direction. You plastered the best, most natural smile onto your face.

“Jamie! Jamie, over here!”

“Give us a smoulder, Tartt!”

“Can we get one by yourself? Step aside, love!”

“Nope!” Jamie called, that being the only comment he responded to. “She’s not goin’ anywhere. So fuck off.”

He turned to face you, his smile wide. It was hard not to return it. Though you weren’t in love with your photo being taken, it wasn’t as bad in this moment, with him by your side.

You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, as they twinkled in the light. God, is he fucking handsome.

“I can go, if you want,” You said quietly. He shook his head.

“I want ya here.”

The warmth in your cheeks deepened. The photographers were long forgotten about, as the two of you opted to continue to look at each other. Jamie’s smile faltered slightly, his eyes dropping down your face.

“Give us a kiss!” A photographer shouted. The other photographers chimed in with the same sentiments.

It must’ve been the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that you were already looking at him, and he was already looking at you, with his eyes bouncing between your eyes and your mouth. But whatever it was, without hesitation, you leaned forward and planted your lips against his. You expected him to recoil, to even pull away, but instead, he brought his hand up to your head, his fingers curling into your hair as his thumb pressed against your cheek.

A chorus of “Oooooooooooo”s came from behind. Jamie smiled against your lips before slowly pulling away. A laugh broke through your mouth as the two of you were swarmed by the other members of AFC Richmond. Sam and Dani grabbed Jamie’s shoulders, excitedly shaking him as Colin, Richard, Isaac, Bumbercatch, Jan Maas, Coach Beard, Roy, and Nate Shelley all surrounded the two of you. It was hard to be upset over the ruined moment when you were surrounded by so much excitement and love, but then it dawned on you: the moment you just experienced? It wasn’t real. There was nothing to be upset about.

So why were you so upset about it anyway?

The cameras were really going off now, the yelling even more intense now that there was a whole crowd of people in the shot and not just two. It was hard not to feel slightly overwhelmed by the whole thing, but you smiled anyway.

“First red carpet, yeah?” Isaac asked you, pulling your attention from the cameras. You nodded. His smile only grew wider.

“It’s weird, innit?” Colin asked. It was clear by his expression that he was sensing your discomfort. You let out a laugh at his question.

“Weird is a bit of an understatement.” You felt like you were living someone else’s life. In their shoes, in their dress, on the arm of their man. But you couldn’t very well tell them that, could you?

As the team began to disperse again, a voice called out from behind you.

“Richmond. My friends.”

Your blood ran cold, feet frozen to the ground below them.

Jamie turned when he realised you weren’t with him, a smile still on his face. When he looked at your expression, it instantly vanished.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I have to-” You stammered, your eyes wild as they searched for an exit. When they found a bathroom, you pointed in its direction. “I’ll be-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, the air trapped in your throat as you rushed away. The world around you began to spin, your ears feeling like they were filling with water. You thought you heard someone call your name, but you continued towards the bathroom.

When you entered, you shut the door behind you before throwing the lock. You didn’t even realise how nauseous you were until you were falling in front of the toilet, dry heaving without anything coming up. The pounding in your chest was like a drum. On the other side of the door, you could hear someone knocking loudly, but the panic stopped you from moving.

He’s here.

He’s fucking here.

You knew there was a chance, a high one, that you would see him. But now the moment had arrived, and your mind and body weren’t anywhere near ready.

You’re safe.

You’re fucking safe.

Jamie won’t let anything happen to you.

Slowly straightening, you turned to face yourself in the mirror. The tears were streaming down your face, and you were thankful for waterproof mascara and setting spray at this moment. Carefully, you took a paper towel and dabbed at your cheeks until the dampness was gone. The pounding on the door continued, and you could hear Jamie calling your name. Sighing at your reflection, you gave yourself a nod before heading to the door. Shaky fingers unlocked the door before pushing it open.

“What’s happened?” Jamie asked, rounding on you the second you walked through the door. You opened your mouth to speak as his hands reached for you, holding your head on either side as he searched your eyes.

“Jamie-”

“Jamie Tartt.”

You closed your eyes.

Pulling away from you, Jamie turned towards the source of the voice.

“Zava,” He said.

Opening your eyes, you were greeted by the face that had haunted you for over a year. His long hair was pulled back, as it always was, and he was dressed in a cream coloured suit with a white undershirt. His eyes were trained on Jamie, as if he didn’t yet notice the presence next to him. You cowered behind Jamie, trying to remain unseen.

“How are you, my tiny friend?” Zava asked, holding his hand out for Jamie, who stared at it for a moment before taking it in his.

“Don’t recall us bein’ friends, exactly.”

You pressed your lips together at the bluntness of the statement. Everyone in AFC Richmond knew how much Jamie hated Zava, and it was never appreciated by you more than it was at this moment.

“Nice to see ya, mate,” Jamie said, in a clear closing of the conversation, before turning back to you. You watched Zava intently, waiting for him to leave. He turned to walk away, but at the last possible second, his eyes met yours, causing him to pause.

Your name rolled off his tongue, and your entire world felt like it was going up in flames.

Jamie’s expression changed from annoyance to dumbfounded as he turned back to look at Zava. He was forgotten by Zava now, however, as his attention was completely on you.

“You look lovely tonight,” He said quietly, taking a step towards you. Instinct had you taking a step away, your eyes jumping back to Jamie.

“What-” He said quietly, tilting his head further to understand. Lips pressed together in an effort not to cry, you reached forward and took Jamie’s hand in yours, giving it a squeeze. He stared at the contact, subconsciously entwining the fingers as everything came together in his mind.

The transition from confusion to realisation was a painful one to see cross over his face.

Jamie turned to Zava quickly, placing himself directly in front of you, like a shield. His hand, however, was still holding yours.

“Alright, mate,” He said firmly. To anyone who didn’t know Jamie, they wouldn’t hear the anger in his quiet voice. But you did. Part of you was thankful for the public backdrop, or else you wouldn’t know what he would do with it. He began to lead you away, careful to keep himself between you and Zava.

“I’d love to get together sometime,” He called after the two of you, and when you turned, you found his eyes exclusively on you. “For tea. Or dinner, perhaps. To… catch up.” You began to shake your head, but Jamie was faster with the response.

“I don’t think so.”

There wasn’t time for another word to be said, for Jamie turned and walked so quickly down the carpet that you were almost running to keep up with him, mostly in fear of being dragged. He led you inside the building, where people were slowly starting to file in for the start of the movie. Glancing down an empty hall, he pulled you a great distance down and waited a second before turning back to you.

“I’ll kill him.” He sniffed. “Say the word and I’ll kill him.”

There wasn’t an ounce of humour in his voice.

You watched as he ran a hand down his face, before pointing in the direction of the door. His eyes were filled with a fire you had never seen before.

“If that prick eva comes near ya again, I’ll murder him with me bare hands.” He was damn near shouting now, his hands trembling in anger.

You were overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with fear, overwhelmed with anxiety, but in this moment, overwhelmed with something else, too.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you brought him back to reality. Back to you. He froze, turning to face you once more. You held eye contact for a second before closing the space between yourself and him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and laying your head on his shoulder. A few moments passed before his arms snaked around your torso, burying his face into your shoulder. All you could smell was his cologne, and it was keeping you centred.

“Let’s go watch the movie,” You mumbled. He pulled away, still close as he leaned down and placed his forehead against yours.

“We can leave,” He mumbled. You closed your eyes as he grabbed your fingers and ran his own across them. “If you want. I could take you home.” You shook your head lightly against his.

“Let’s stay.”

He nodded, taking your hand and leading you back down the hallway. You felt lighter in this moment, lighter than you had in a long time. For even with a person who you viewed as a threat being so near, you knew you were safe.

The auditorium was filled by the time the two of you had made your way in. So much so that the only seats were in the back. The two of you sat down, looking around anxiously. A few rows ahead, you could make out the Zava’s outline, making you recoil slightly in your seat.

“Can’t believe you fuckin’ dated him,” Jamie mumbled, as if reading your mind. “Ain’t he married?”

“Divorced now,” You told him. “After she found out about me, of course.” Though you refused to look at him, you could still feel his stare. Your eyes began to well up again as you wondered how Jamie would react to this news. The idea of him view lesser of you was unbearable.

Instead, he took your hand in his again, filling the space between your fingers with his own. It didn’t feel like an act this time (although, it never really did with him). He brought the topside of your hand up to his mouth and gave it a kiss. A flash from the side let you know that someone caught a photo of the moment, but you didn’t turn to confirm it, and neither did he. The lights went out at that moment, the beginning credits starting on the screen. As everyone else applauded in excitement, you turned to face forward, scooting back in your seat and hoping it wasn’t a long one.

It was a long one, unfortunately, for when the credits began to roll and the audience began to applaud, you were being shaken awake by Jamie, your head laying on his shoulder. Disgruntled, you sat up, blindly joining the rest of the crowd as you clapped and hoped that your makeup hadn’t smudged during your accidental nap.

“After party?” Jamie asked as he rose from his seat. Although by his tone, it was clear he already knew your answer. A snort left your mouth as you shook your head.

“If by that you mean me ordering pizza and laying on my couch in my knickers, then yes.”

He pressed his lips together before saying, “Sounds like the kind of after party I’d want to be invited to.”

You didn’t get the chance to respond as you and him got sucked into the crowd exiting the building. He was looking around as if searching for something, finally pulling you in the direction of the bathrooms.

“Be right back,” He said just outside the door, kissing your cheek before disappearing through the bathroom door. You leaned against the wall and watched the people walk by. Celebrities of all statuses passed by without a single glance in your direction. The weirdness of the day fell over you again.

Somewhere amongst the crowd, you heard someone call your name, and when you turned, you saw Dani, Richard, Isaac and Bumbercatch heading towards you. Behind them was Zava, his intense stare making you shrink inside yourself.

“We are going out for drinks and karaoke!” Dani exclaimed excitedly. “Zava’s treat.” You allowed yourself a glance at the retired footballer, before looking back at Dani.

“That sounds fun!” You said, trying not to sound too strained.

“Are you and Tartt comin’?” Richard asked. You inhaled deeply, looking at the bathroom briefly before turning back to him.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll find Jamie.”

They nodded in agreement before wandering off, but it wasn’t lost on you that one of them stayed behind. Zava approached you, making you press your entire body into the wall.

“Please come,” He said in a low voice, his hand reaching up to your cheek. You jerked away, but he still forced his touch against your skin. It began to burn at the contact, and you felt your breathing rate increase. “I am divorced now. We can discuss… us.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m taken,” You said simply, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s over.” He let out a loud laugh.

“You can’t possibly think that Tartt is any sort of upgrade.”

“Compared to you? A soggy lunch sack would be an upgrade.”

The both of you turned to see Roy Kent, standing with fists at his sides. Relief overflowed you. Zava swallowed hard.

“This does not involve you, Kent.” Roy shrugged.

“The problem is, I don’t give a fuck,” He said in his most sarcastic voice. You bit back a smile, so grateful for Roy at this moment. The hand dropped from your face, and you felt like you could breathe again. Zava began rounding on Roy, who tipped his chin up towards him.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to see Jamie, who’s eyes were on Zava. Suddenly, he was once again between the two of you.

“Zava here was just leaving,” Roy said, tilting his head towards the doorway as he narrowed his eyes at Zava. Zava looked back at Jamie, who also had fists at the ready by his sides. Though he didn’t have the height that Zava possessed, you knew who would win in a fight, and with Roy by his side? Zava didn’t stand a chance.

Without another glance in your direction, Zava whipped around and stalked out the door. Roy and Jamie stared in that direction until they were sure he wasn’t coming back.

“Thanks, mate,” Jamie said to Roy, who grunted.

“Wasn’t for you.”

You smiled softly.

“Thank you, Roy.”

He nodded, not saying another word before walking off. Jamie sighed sharply before turning back to you.

“Home?” He asked gently. You took his hand in yours. Part of you considered telling him about the afterparty with the team, but, selfishly, you decided not to.

“Please.”

Before you knew it, you were safe in the backseat of the car. A sigh forced it’s way out of your mouth as you laid back in the seat. All of the evening’s anxieties filled your head as your brain finally forced you to feel them all at once. Tears quietly streamed down your face, your eyes trained on the soft roof of the car.

Seeing him… The way he looked at you…

It was too much.

“Hey,” Jamie whispered when he looked at you, turning to face you. Sniffling, you tried to turn your head away from him, but he hooked a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him. Hand on either side of your head, he wiped your tears away. “You’re alright, love.”

Was it him? Was it you? It was hard to say. But somewhere among the tender moment, you found yourself kissing him. The privacy of the back of the car allowed for more passion, more intensity behind the kiss this time. He pulled you out of the lap belt until you were straddling him in his seat. While your hands were still on his face, his found your legs, pushing your dress up your thighs until his fingers were curling around the fabric of the thin thong you wore underneath. Against your thigh, you could feel him grow hard.

The car came to a stop in front of your house, but you barely registered it as your fingers tangled in his hair. He whispered your name against your lips, seeming to pull away, but you desperately leaned forward and caught his mouth against yours once more.

“Stay,” You mumbled between kisses. “Please. Stay."