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muxshwriting · 21 hours ago

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bruises and a backache

max verstappen x teammate!reader

summary: hiding an injury from your teammate and then proving yourself beyond his overprotective-ness || warnings: bruises, past injury || word count: 1790 || masterlist

Max was pounding at the bathroom door, his blood rushing hot and fast through his body like he’d just stepped out of the cockpit mid-race. His palm slammed flat against the wood again. “Y/N,” he said, voice tight, bordering on frantic. “Open the door.”

The sound of the shower was still running, steam curling out from the cracks in the doorframe, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the noise he’d heard, the unmistakable sound of you stifling a scream. “I’m fine!” you called out, your voice thin and shaking as you tried to steady it. “It's just… a spider.” You try to make it sound casual but it comes out confused and as an almost question.

“A spider?” he repeated, disbelieving. “You’re not scared of spiders.”

You paused, eyes trained on your reflection in the fogged-up mirror. “It just surprised me,” you added quickly, the lie tasting stale on your tongue.

But Max wasn’t letting it go. You could hear him draw in a slow breath through his nose, trying to rein in the panic in his chest. “Please just… unlock the door,” he said, softer now. “Let me see you. Are you hurt?” Your words did nothing to calm Max's racing heart, only serving to make him more concerned. His body slumps forward, trying to be closer to you as his forehead rests on the door. "Can you unlock the door? Let me check you're alright?"

You stared at the lock, heart thudding. You didn’t want to lie to him. Not really. But you also didn’t want the storm you knew was waiting on the other side of that door. “You can't come in,” you tried again, voice light, teasing, desperate. “I'm changing.”

“It's nothing I haven't seen before. I’ve seen you change,” he shot back. “You've got to lie better. What's happening?”

There was a moment of silence before you gave in with a small sigh, walking over and unlocking the door with a soft click. Max watches the shadow retract and as soon as the lock is turned, he was already pushing it open.

You stood there, in your underwear, staring into the mirror, eyes flicking to his reflection as he entered. His gaze dropped to your skin instantly, like it always did, but instead of wandering hands and a smile, all that crossed his face was alarm. Your back still had the scars of childhood races etched onto it but it was now a mess of blooming bruises, angry purples and fading yellows. But Max could instantly tell which ones were new.

You hadn’t even made it into your shower and you were frozen in place like a deer caught in the beam of his attention. Max didn’t say anything at first. Just stared.

Then, quietly; “Where did you get those, schat?”

You closed your eyes for a second and reached for your shirt, fumbling with it as you gave up on pretending you were fine. The ache in your muscles was too much tonight, and your stupid scream had ruined the last of your cover. “They’re from the crash last week,” you said softly. “It’s nothing serious. We checked everything- the medical team checked, everything’s okay. I just knocked them weirdly when I was changing.”

Max’s brows furrowed hard. “We checked?” he echoed. “Who’s we? Does Christian know?”

You hesitated. That was enough of an answer.

“Are you kidding me?” he barked. “Everyone knew except me?”

“I didn’t want to hide it from you-”

“Then why did you?”

“Because you would do exactly this,” you said, voice sharp but tired. “You’d panic. You’d hover. You’d worry and forget how to focus. And I couldn’t do that to you.”

Max exhaled harshly, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You should’ve told me.”

You looked up at him. “I didn’t want you to stop seeing me as your teammate first. I didn’t want to become a problem to manage.”

His expression twisted at that, something between frustration and heartbreak. He stepped forward, his hand brushing your arm carefully.

“You’re never a problem,” he said. “But you are my-" His mind jumped for something that didn't compeltely give the game away to his feelings. There were the countless nights of binging tv shows with you, culred up on on sofas and slipping away into each other's motorhomes. "You're my person. Do you get that? If you’re hurt, I need to know.”

Your shoulders dropped, the weight of the truth finally settling between you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Max pulled you close, one hand cradling the back of your neck, the other ghosting over your bruised skin like he wished he could draw the pain out of it. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he murmured. “Just don’t make me find out like this again. I want to worry with you. Not because you shut me out.”

You nodded against his chest. His heartbeat thudded steadily under your ear.

“Okay,” you said. “I promise.”

The paddock buzzed with its usual pre-race energy, mechanics moving like clockwork, journalists circling like flies, engines humming in the distance. You walked toward the Red Bull garage in your race suit, helmet in hand, eyes focused ahead.

Max, of course, was already there. He spotted you immediately and beelined across the garage like a heat-seeking missile. “Morning,” he said casually, walking beside you. “Sleep okay?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Max. Still fine.”

He nodded once, like he didn’t quite believe you. “Did you take the painkillers Christian gave you?”

You gave him a look. “Max.”

“Just checking.”

He hovered as you moved to your station, watching as you adjusted the strap on your suit and flexed your shoulders, testing the pain quietly, discreetly. It twinged, sure, but nothing that would stop you from racing.

Max narrowed his eyes. “Was that a wince?”

“No,” you lied with the confidence of someone who’d already practiced it twice in the mirror. “Just adjusting.”

He didn’t look convinced. “We can still switch you out for Liam, you know. It’s not too late.”

You scoffed and turned to him fully, jabbing your finger into his chest. “Don’t start with that again. I passed medical. I’m cleared. I'm racing.”

Max lifted his hands in surrender but stepped a little closer. “I know. I know. It’s just… I watched the replay again last night.”

You paused. “Why would you do that to yourself? It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just a racing incident.”

He looked at you like you’d said the dumbest thing imaginable. “Racing incident or not, I nearly lost you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavier than the sound of pit tools and shouting engineers. You softened, resting your hand on his forearm. “You didn’t. I’m right here.”

He looked down at your hand, then at you again. “Yeah, but I also wasn’t there. I didn’t know. You were hurting and I didn’t see it.”

“And now you do,” you said. “So let me drive, Max. Please. Don’t let this be the thing that makes you forget who I am.”

He stared at you for a moment, searching your face like he could read every inch of emotion you weren’t saying aloud. Then, reluctantly, he nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “But if you so much as blink weirdly on the radio, I’m calling it in.”

You rolled your eyes, lips quirking. “Deal.” You're both hiding small laughs as you part.

As you turned to leave, Max called after you, “And don’t worry about carrying your helmet and your pre-race things again. I told the interns to do it.”

You turned over your shoulder, walking backwards with a smirk. “Max, are you trying to seduce me with team orders?”

He smirked right back, eyes gleaming. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

When you cross the line in first place, the throbbing of your back seems to fade away with the joy of the occassion. Max rounds off the podium but when your parked up in parc ferme, his first thought is to crouch by your car, take your helmet in his own hands and his eyes scanning you like he was reading telemetry. He didn't say anything at first, waiting, not with champagne or celebration in mind.

Just walked up, hands hovering until he gently pulled you into his chest. Not a crushing hug, he knew better, but a steady one. Solid. Careful. Like he was trying to hold you together without hurting you.

“You’re walking a little stiff,” he murmured near your ear, voice just for you.

You let out a soft breath, arms around his waist. “It’s fine. I’m just sore.”

Max pulled back to look at you, eyes narrowed, like he could spot every lie beneath your skin. “Sore how?” he asked, tone more measured now. “Like regular ‘I just drove 300 kilometers’ sore, or ‘I haven’t told my teammate my back’s killing me’ sore?”

You sighed, cheeks flushing. “Don’t do that thing where you read my mind.” He didn’t smile. Not this time. He reached out and gently, so gently, brushed his fingers against your side. When you flinched just slightly, his jaw clenched. “You shouldn’t have pushed it that hard,” he said softly, not angry, just concerned.

“I needed to prove-”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” he interrupted. “I don’t care if you finished first or dead last, I just need to know you’re not hurting worse because of it.”

You looked down at your hands, pulling your gloves off gently. “I never need to prove it to you. But it wasn’t that bad, I paced myself, I didn’t take risks. I just… I needed to feel normal.”

Max exhaled slowly, running a hand through his sweat-matted hair. “You are normal. Taking care of yourself doesn’t mean weak.” His voice dropped even lower, quieter now with the noise of the crowd fading in the background. “If you’d told me it was too much, I would’ve been proud of you for stepping out. I need you to remember that, okay?”

You nodded slowly, eyes flicking up to his. “I was careful, Max. I promise. I know I’m not back to 100% yet.”

He searched your face for a long second, then finally gave a small nod of his own. “Alright,” he said. “But you’re icing your back the minute we get to the motorhome. And I’m carrying your suitcase. And I’m not negotiating on either.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Yes, Captain Verstappen.”

He smiled this time, just a little. “You can win the race, but I’m still calling the recovery strategy.”

You lean in and almost want to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for watching out for me.”

“Always.” He tilted his head to your waiting team. “Go get 'em.”

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max vertsappen x teammate!reader #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #muxsh #muxshwriting

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tifa-simp · 2 days ago

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Interesting.

I always felt like SOLDIER Cloud is closer to Sephiroth than Zack. But that's because I associate SOLDIER Cloud with pre Nibelheim Seph more than post Nibelheim Seph. However, with First Soldier and Crisis Core context, I think it's safe to say sane Seph actually torments himself a lot by his sins. Sephiroth called himself all kinds of name to desensitize himself from all the killing, he tried to convince himself that this was his true self, while knowing damn well that it's not. Sane Seph was a liar, and he tricked himself for so long that when Nibelheim happened, he broke. His belief, his life, his purpose, all lies, all fake, nothing is true anymore. And he knew. Deep down, he's always aware of the truth. But that's why he clung even harder on the lie, to protect himself. That's why the Nibelheim massacre is such a turning point for Seph. He didn't discover the truth, he finally learned to accept it.

While Zack is different. If I have to make a comparison, he's like Gon from Hunter x Hunter. He's not good, he's pure. He decides what to believe and does whatever benefits his belief. Monster, Wutaian, Soldiers, and Turks are all the same. They're "the other side", as in "me and they". If you're on my side, I'll ride or die for you. If you're on the opposite side, you're enemy. All left is to fill the blank.

If you're on -Shinra side-, I'll ride or die for you. If not, die.

If you're on -honnor side- (the definition based on Zack ofc), you can live. If not, die.

If you're on -Cloud's side-, you can live. If not, die.

Zack has the authority over his own belief. There's a checklist in Zack's moral compas, and anything closer to his criteria will take the place, in which, life is not the priority. Don't take this the wrong way, but Cloud's life isn't what is important. It's Zack's affection for him. The reason Zack tried so hard to save Cloud cos he has become the next closest thing that fits Zack's criteria, his cause to die for. Aerith is also in the same category cos Zack was trying to go back to her, too. Now the first condition is fulfilled, the second part becomes much easier: the enemy to kill.

You can see this trait in SOLDIER Cloud's behavior. Let's take Tifa as the cause and watch:

Bombing reactor is something Tifa can't do? I'll do it.

Johnny is someone bringing trouble to Tifa? Die.

The troopers got in the way of Tifa's business? Die.

Scarlet and her men are putting Tifa in danger? Die. (You can argue that Seph possessed him in Gongaga, but I'm sure he wouldn't have any problem killing them on his own volition.)

Later in the temple, his goal changes to the black material, and the pattern remains. Tifa has openly expressed her uneasiness with this many times and has to physically restrain him on multiple occasions. But the thing is, SOLDIER Cloud doesn't enjoy killing. He does it out of necessity. This is a trait that neither belongs to sane nor insane Seph. Sane Seph kills against his will and insane Seph kills for his own enjoyment. Killing isn't a moral challenge to Cloud, it's just a mean to an end.

And I say THIS is the biggest trait of Zack in SOLDIER Cloud. The trait of a killer.

Zack Fair has a really fascinating relationship with killing where a lot of the rest of the cast doesn't. He fights people as well as monsters and gradually stops being able to differentiate the two. He helps clear out beasties and ghoulies but he also intros the game with a massive attack on a foreign nation just to shore up corporate interests and for a good chunk of the game places those two activities in the same spot in his mind. One of his side projects at work is quashing the last remnants of rebellion in said occupied country and rooting out the spies in their resistance, at which point he hands them over to his bosses to be interrogated and presumably tortured. But if he comes face to face with the same people in a combat scenario, he won't kill them, because he views their desire to see themselves free as an honorable trait. Then he turns around and attacks hordes of people who defected Shinra. He uses the blunt side of his sword, not to spare lives, but because he doesn't want to damage the sharp edge.

Wutai forces and Genesis clones have a different categorization to him, something he can mentally label as "other". But after Nibelhiem, your primary enemy type becomes other Shinra soldiers. Just after Zack has had his realizations that the monsters he was wiping out share a haunting amount of basic building blocks with his coworkers. And with himself.

Actually, let's pause. Zack is the only character we see have any sort of acceptance of being Jenova-ed. Every other character is unwilling and usually not even a conscious being yet, but Zack A) knows what is being done to him, and B) openly states he wants those monstrous traits for himself. "Those wings / I want them too." Up to this point, every other character has equated being Jenova-ed to being baser, to being subhuman, but Zack at the very beginning tried to convince Angeal that it meant freedom. Power to do what you want.

Zack Fair willingly and with open arms embraced being made less than human because he thought it would give him the strength to break out of captivity.

So he busts out, and the first thing he's greeted with it a horde of enemies that he knows are human, has worked and talked with, and are in fact the same shape and type of person as Cloud. Just a couple cutscenes ago, these were his coworkers.

The easiest way to get through them is to set them on fire and blow up the munitions they're carrying on their person.

(It's such a beautiful demystifying of the elemental system. I love it.)

Oh also, you're on a time limit, so you gotta kill all these guys fast, because they're trying to go for the weak spot, Cloud, who can't fight and is getting dragged away.

After that, the next thing Zack does is find a gun and start taking long ranged killshots.

There's a tangible feeling of a lesson being learned.

Zack is (I think?) the only SOLDIER we ever see use a gun. It's worth noting that even the most fallen of SOLDIERs stick to their flashy blades and their weird swordfights. Other characters even comment how bizarre it is, but ffvii also runs on that fantasy world logic where if you just Get Good enough, swords are just as good as guns if not better. Guns are the lower, more primitive weapon, fit for grunts and hitmen but not elite fighters.

(I could also go into detail on how some of the SOLDIERS weapon are sold as bespoke merch in world, and basically another tool in the toolbox of how to sell these flesh and blood men as mythologized products. But we don't have time to unpack all of that.)

For Zack, we know that his sword is even a symbol of honorable combat and a legacy of trying to do the right thing. Zack picking up a gun is basically debasing himself to being just another man in the field. And it's a sniper rifle. The weapon guaranteed to get him as little contact with his opponent as possible and does not even give them a chance to fight back. But it's whatever gets the job done.

Zack starts the game as someone who kills people, but it's hand-waved aside the same way it is for most everyone else, only for him to bite that awareness apple like five minutes before it becomes absolutely vital he survive at all costs. Zack becomes aware that he's on a slippery slope and due to circumstances has to start sprinting. Over the course of the game, we watch as Zack Fair goes from being someone who kills people to a killer.

#zack fair #sephiroth #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy vii #ff7 remake #ff7 rebirth #rant

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satzumosupremacy · 2 days ago

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Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.13

Gift In Disguise

Male reader X Kwon Eunbi

Tags: Smut, not a mommy Eunbi 9.2k Words

A/N: Does mention a little blood and violence but you should be fine :)

Every movement is calm, controlled, and efficient. But you carry a kind of danger. It can serve good or evil, but make no mistake—you are dangerous, more than what people realize. It’s not something you like to show, unless you want to make a clear statement.

Someone always has to learn the hard way. Just like today, you’ll give back what they bring. Psychological mind games, manipulation, subtle pressure, controlled silence and chaos—you’ll escalate it calmly, with precision, only if it’s necessary. This is your playing field.

“Boss?” Shadow—a colleague of yours say, pausing as he looks back at you.

Eunbi glances over too with curiosity in her eyes, wondering why you stopped short just before turning around the corner toward the elevators. She tries to follow your gaze but quickly finds nothing. Shadow, on the other hand, catches the signal instantly. No words needed.

This is just one of the many things that set you apart as a bodyguard—counter-surveillance isn’t easy, and it’s not a skill anyone can easily learn. It’s more than watching your surroundings; it’s about reading people, anticipating their moves. You see someone once, there’s no need to be alarmed. Twice, maybe it’s a coincidence. But the third time, you know you’re being tailed. Easier said than done.

“I need to use the bathroom. Escort Miss Eunbi to her room, Shadow,” you say, making an excuse as you continue to stare down at the person in the lobby from afar.

“Understood, Boss” the bodyguard says and continues to walk with Eunbi following right behind.

And right after Eunbi turns the corner, you adjust your earpiece to radio your colleagues. “This is Boss. Shadow is escorting Eunbi. Ghost, do you copy?”

“Copy.”

“What did security say about the possible Tango? Over.”

“They think we’re overreacting. We can’t do nothing about it. They seem like unseasoned security guards that haven’t gotten their hands dirty before when the threat is posing as a bodyguard.”

No bodyguard should be sitting down when there’s only four that’s in the building. It’s already a red flag. An experienced security guard would have caught on.

"Should I drag him by the hair to security?" you say, half-sarcastic, but not entirely joking. At this point, the risk of something happening is unknown. Anything can happen in a moment. You're not doing this just to protect Eunbi, but to ensure the safety of everyone in the building. It’s really not your job to, but something like this is already a security risk.

The whole time, your eyes stay locked on him—the threat. Whether he knows you're watching from a distance and is just playing dumb, you don’t care. You want him to realize he’s being stalked. You want him to feel uneasy. You want him to be afraid.

“What’s Tango doing? Confirm a description, Boss. Delta is right beside me. Shadow and Miss Eunbi just got out of the elevator and are walking to the room.”

“He’s sitting pretty with a phone in his face,” you reply, still staring down the threat. “Confirming—black baseball cap, black suit jacket, white flannel, black pants, brown dress shoes.”

“Copy that. No changes. Should I drag each security guard by their hair to you, Boss?” Ghost chuckles.

“It’s a good way to hurt their pride, and I’ll be proud—but let’s not get into legal lawsuits.”

“Right. Would you like me to take your place?”

“Rendezvous at my location. Try stalking and make it super obvious. Or try hitting on him if you get bored.”

“Is that really the extent you want me to go, Boss?” Ghost laughs.

“Up to you. Just let me know so we’re on the same page.”

What you really mean is, you aren’t pressuring Ghost to do honeypotting—a form of espionage where a woman flirts with a man to gather information or lower his guard. But if you can get something useful that way, it’s a win. Minimal risk. Maximum gain.

“Eunbi just entered the room a few seconds ago. I’ll be on my way down,” Ghost says.

Once Ghost takes over your position, you step into the elevator and head up to Eunbi. You glance at everyone who passes by from the corner of your eye—head on a swivel, even as they go about their day.

When you reach the room, you tap Delta on the shoulder and motion for him to patrol the floor. No one says it out loud, but the team feels it from the change in your glare—passivity dissolving into quiet tension. The calm watchfulness sharpens. Everyone’s posture straightens, eyes narrow. Surveillance shifts into staging. You and the team aren’t just watching anymore—you’re waiting for the moment to strike.

“Hey,” Eunbi whispers, opening the door after hearing your voice from outside her room. “Oppa.”

“Yes?”

She waves you into the room, and you follow her command. Eunbi gently closes the door behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the brightly lit room while her manager is still out getting snacks.

“Oppa, is everything okay?” she asks cautiously. “You were in the bathroom for so long. Are you feeling constipated? I have some medicine if you are.”

Seriously, what’s going on in her mind? Is she always like this? You don’t even know.

“No. And stick to ‘sir’ like you did before. We aren’t close like that.”

“Alright, Boss,” she replies, which already feels bizarre to you.

“Not that either.”

“Well, you’re not the actual boss-boss, though,” she says, tilting her head slightly. “Right?”

You keep a silent smile, with just a hint of a smirk.

“Hey, you’re a little annoying. At least answer me, Sir,” Eunbi pouts.

You would say Eunbi is an oddball, because how many names is she going to call you by, and within a simple response? She already called you by your name, “Sir,” “Oppa,” “Mister bodyguard,” and an informal “Hey”, all in rotation. It’s not a big deal to you, but it is getting a little annoying when she can’t stick to one name.

“Do you know what psychological misdirection is, Miss Eunbi?”

“A what?” she says, sitting down on the chair while you stand near the door.

If she doesn’t catch on, you’ll misdirect her to another topic—just to gauge how clueless she really is. “Want to know why I told you not to say my name? Get down.”

She stands up, confused, looking around before slowly squatting in front of you with her legs together. “What’s happening?”

“Stand up,” you say, looking down and meeting Eunbi’s gaze with her cleavage in your view, which was unintentional on your end to look down at her.

She obeys silently, still confused as ever.

“Sit back on the chair, Miss Eunbi.”

“W-what are you doing?” she asks, blindly grabbing the chair and sits down.

“At least you’re obedient, Miss Eunbi. Just listen and do whatever I tell you to do. Don’t question, don’t worry. Trust me, and I’ll trust you.”

She chuckles and rolls her eyes at how easily you controlled her. “Oppa, why do you look so paranoid, though? Nothing’s going to happen,” Eunbi says with a smile.

That’s the last thing you wanted to hear—“nothing will happen.”

Even omens exist in your line of work. It’s like telling a first responder, “It’s been quiet.” Anything can happen after that. And the smile Eunbi’s giving you meant to comfort, just hits a nerve instead.

“I’m not paranoid, Miss Eunbi,” you say calmly, letting out a quiet sigh that barely masks the tension coiling in your chest.

“Um, would you like to sit down? There’s a chair right by you. Just look down, like to the left side," she says with a gentle invitation.

“No thanks, Miss,” you reply, your tone clipped but not harsh. “Not here to babysit an adult.”

She exhales, a mix of frustration and concern. “Why are you being like this? Weren’t you more friendly like thirty minutes ago? Is it because my manager’s not here that you’re acting cold to me? C’mon, it’s only been more than like one or two hours.” Her eyes search yours, trying to find a hint of the person she met earlier.

If she were sharper, she’d notice the subtle shift in your posture—the way your eyes flicker toward the door every few seconds, or how your jaw tightens when you think she’s not looking. The threat you’ve spotted more than once over these past hours isn’t visible to her. And you don’t blame her—it’s not her burden to carry.

Still, your guarded demeanor, the silence between your words, the weight in the room—it should speak volumes.

“It’s not that, Miss Eunbi. Please understand,” you say quietly, voice steady but heavy with meaning.

“Eunbi. Just call me Eunbi. Please, Oppa?”

But you don’t budge. “I get it. We met at the awards show when you got lost and couldn’t find the bathroom and talked a little, but let’s stick to professionalism.”

“I don’t like you, Sir.”

“I don’t care,” you shoot back quickly.

“Are we friends? We sure do bicker a lot.” Her smile grows wider, teasing, eyes locking with yours like she’s trying to crack the armor you wear.

You neither know nor care much about being her friend, so you shrug without saying a word.

“It’s okay to be shy and not admit we’re friends. But you should buy my album. I’ll personally include extra goodies—free of charge. I’ll even sign it. Friends should support each other, right?”

“We’ll see,” you say, not planning to spend a dime on her album. “Depends on how I feel.”

“I like this side of you now. It’s kind of hot. The cold with the soft, gentle side mixed in—very charming.”

She’s definitely hitting on you, but you act like you didn’t hear it. Neither does she really get what you’re trying to say.

“Mhmm, okay. Is that all you want to talk about? May I step outside and give you some privacy, Miss Eunbi?” Your voice is calm but carries an edge, masking the tension simmering beneath.

“No. Can you stay with me a little longer? I get kind of lonely sometimes.” Her voice drops a notch, softer, almost vulnerable, and you catch the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

You glance at her, the dim light casting soft shadows across her face. Reluctantly, you nod. “What else do you want to ask, Eunbi?”

Casually dropping the ‘miss’ is intentional. Psychologically, she’ll feel a lot better and let you out quicker. You’re playing it smart by controlling the situation. Not in a bad way, that is.

She shifts slightly on the chair, the subtle rustle of fabric breaking the quiet. “How does a woman become a bodyguard? I swear, I saw one standing by my door. Why is she dressed totally different from you?”

“Her call sign is ‘Ghost.’ She’s dressed as a staff member for obvious reasons.”

“And about the guy who escorted me to the room... why does he walk weird after we left you?”

You blink, caught off guard by the question. The faint hum of the air conditioning fills the pause. “What? Why are you so curious about how people walk? That’s kind of weird.”

“I can’t be curious?” she chuckles and adjust her shirt by the collar, to which, you saw a glimpse of her cleavage. “His right arm doesn’t sway much like his left.”

“Cauliflower on his left ear. A stiff right arm. What comes to your mind? He’s the scariest bodyguard here, Eunbi.”

“And you’re not the scariest?” she says, trying to sound sharp, her eyes flickering up and down your figure. “Your nickname should be ‘Little Boss’ then.”

“Unfortunately, no,” you reply. It’s actually an understatement. Some things are better left unsaid.

She shrugs, clearly unimpressed. “You’re kind of boring.”

“Yeah, sorry for getting your hopes up or something. But I have to get going out there. We can talk after everything is done, Eunbi.”

“Fine. Gosh.” Her voice trails off, a mix of disappointment and amusement.

Once you step out of the room, the cool hallway air hits your face. You catch Shadow’s steady gaze as you smooth your sleeve with a quiet sigh. “Anything from Tango?”

“Tango got up and took the staircase. Ghost is following. Should we not make a move? He’s in a secluded space that people won’t see.”

“We move on my command,” you reply firmly. “Tango isn’t an immediate threat until he does something.”

“Anything on your mind, Boss? A plan B?”

“You’re in charge if anything goes sideways. Stay with Eunbi while I’m out. Coordinate with Delta while Ghost and I handle Tango. And do me a favor—don’t tell Eunbi where I am.”

“I—yes, Boss.”

“Did you want to say something?” you ask, your tone softening.

Shadow hesitates, then nods. “I’m not sure Ghost can keep up with your pace.”

“You know her. She’s a tough fighter.” You adjust your earpiece, glancing at Shadow as he acknowledges your words. “Delta, do you Roger? Over.”

“Roger.”

“Go to the lobby and be on standby to escort Miss Eunbi’s manager when they return. Check six and twelve.”

“Roger that, Boss. But what about Tango? I don’t have a good feeling.”

“Ghost and I will handle him. I need you and Shadow to watch Eunbi closely.”

“Boss, I’m against that,” Delta says firmly. “I’ll go in your place.”

Shadow cuts in over the radio, voice sharp and unwavering. “Just listen and do what you’re told, Delta. Don’t make things harder for Boss. He’s not in the mood.”

You lean in beside Shadow and reply quietly, “Shadow…”

And things heat up quickly, out of nowhere.

“Didn’t Boss pull some strings to get you out of prison after seeing you stomping a creep nearly to death? You know damn well you would’ve done time for that. Most people don’t get a second chance after, but somehow, Boss saw something worth saving you from being locked in a cell," Delta snaps back.

“Okay, army brat. Still got that army ego, huh? Always itching for a fight, always ready to kill? Gosh, the military’s the only place you can get away with murder, isn’t it?” Shadow fires back. “Be glad Boss took you in and gave you a second chance. Otherwise, you’d be dead broke, fighting for a country that didn’t give a damn about you afterward.”

“Hey, fucking quit it,” you radio back in a not-so-friendly tone, glaring directly at Shadow with your eyes silently saying, “Don’t make me put you in check.” The radio goes silent for what feels like minutes as you close your eyes, trying to regain some calm after losing a fair bit of your cool.

“Sorry about that, Boss,” Delta finally replies over the radio.

“I’m taking full responsibility for what can happen. Understand that. Acknowledge all.”

“Roger,” delta responds back on the radio.

“Roger,” Shadow responds beside you.

You wait for one more reply—but Ghost doesn’t respond. No verbal answer, not even the faint double-tap on the earpiece that usually signals acknowledgment or silent confirmation.

“Ghost, do you copy?” you radio. “Ghost?”

Your mind races to one conclusion—something’s wrong. You glance at Shadow, who’s staring back at you, his expression darkening with concern. There’s no time to hesitate, no time to gamble on hope. Without another word, you sprint toward the stairwell, pounding down the steps two at a time while Shadow stays behind and watches Eunbi.

“Delta, be advised, Boss is engaging. Standby,” Shadow radios to Delta.

The sudden rush of footsteps draws Eunbi’s attention. She opens the door, startled to see only Shadow standing there. “Where’s… um… your boss?”

“He’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t worry. Your manager should be back any minute now. The radio show isn’t starting for another hour. Get some rest, Miss Eunbi.”

“Did your boss run to the bathroom again?”

Shadow exhales a short, quiet sigh—part amused, part tense. Her question might’ve been funny under normal circumstances, but the situation is far from that. “No, Miss.”

Meanwhile, you’ve already turned the corner, racing down three flights of stairs. As you hit the landing, your eyes lock onto Ghost against the wall, one hand clutching her stomach, her fingers slick with blood.

“Where did he go?” you ask, breath caught somewhere between panic and command.

Ghost winces, jaw clenched, and points toward the nearby stairwell door. “I’m fine. Go get him. He has a knife,” she gasps.

You catch sight of her earpiece on the floor—shattered, useless. She never got the chance to signal. Without hesitation, you pull out your phone, hit the emergency line, and hand it to her with the speaker on. You trust her holding on until help arrives and you quickly leave her to deal with the threat.

“Ghost’s been stabbed. Delta, inform the front desk to shut every door. My orders. Execute, now!” you radio and run full speed quickly after, hoping to catch the threat before anyone gets hurt.

“Lima Charlie, Boss,” Delta responds quickly.

“Going dark,” you declare, slipping your earpiece off and continue to run.

Every scream you hear only pulls you closer, feet pounding against the floor as you run. Your mind is spiraling with frustration and anger burning hot. You should’ve handled the threat earlier. Maybe none of this would’ve happened. But deep down, you know you couldn’t have moved until now.

As you reach the end of the hallway, you spot the threat—knife out, yelling at the broadcast station staffs, demanding something you can’t quite hear over the chaos. But you're past the point of negotiation. One of your own is bleeding out, and you have every right to act in defense.

The staff freeze at the sight of you charging forward. There’s no hesitation in your stride, no warning in your eyes. You’re locked on target, and nothing else matters. In one swift motion, you slam into the threat, driving him hard into the wall. The crack of impact echoes through the hallway as the side of his face smashes against the concrete. You hope the shock will dislodge the knife—but he doesn’t let go. Behind you, the staff break into screams, scattering and sprinting to safety, putting as much distance between themselves and the scene as they can.

And to what you don’t expect, he maintains his balance and grips his knife. But looking down at his knife still in his hands and how he’s holding onto the knife like an amateur, you don’t expect much. The threat takes a good look at you and points the knife right at you.

“Just give up and put it down,” you warn him.

“Scared?” he laughs and charges at you.

Being rushed at took you by surprise. And neither was calming down the situation was an option anymore as you dodge his knife attack easily from how slow he swung. It also took him by surprise. You quickly take this window as an opportunity to charge right at him as an exchange of force.

He tries to fight you off by lowering his arm down, getting the knife sideways with an intent of swinging it out once it connects to your stomach. You know this all too well in an instant as he tries to swing right at you instead after knowing that targeting your stomach was difficult. And neither did that work when you lowered yourself to punch him right in the ribcage. It worked a little too well that he stumbled and lean against the wall for a split second.

From what you just observed and did, you’re not expecting a long fight.

“Are you done?” you say, trying to provoke him, trying to get in his mind while he groans in pain.

He’s not giving up without a fight, or even worse, until you’re seriously hurt by him. Without an answer, he sees you approaching him at the corner of his eyes, and that’s where he strikes you with his knife, slashing your left outer forearm in a clean straight line from a quick defensive maneuver.

You felt every single bit of that slash despite your body fueling you with adrenaline.

But quickly and smartly, you back off and hear the sirens in the distance. To what he doesn’t expect, you stood your ground and crack the bones in your neck, smirking. He doesn’t like anything about how calm you are, even after you lowered your guard to where he got lucky to get a hit on you.

Trying to disarm him was a plan, but with how he’s waving his knife around carelessly for you to not jump back in, it’s not worth a risk. Despite reading his movements, all you can see is how vulnerable his chest was.

One big mistake from you can lead to his death from how the sharp side of the knife can be turned against him with just a strong push. This is something you want to prevent yourself from doing. Neither would it look great.

“Don’t be scared, come at me,” you say, provoking him again as he charges at you blindly, knife aimed dead-center at your stomach like it’s all he’s ever trained for. Very predictable.

You quickly counter him with a sidestep, just enough to let the blade miss, then drive a short, jab to his liver. That would definitely make anyone drop in seconds no matter how tough they are. But he still won’t let go of the knife. He twists with the momentum, swinging back at you—this time the blade grazes your side, then suddenly, you feel it sink in.

Your breath catches as the cold steel bites into your side. The pain blooms fast, hot—but your mind stays clear. You don’t pull away. Instead, you drag him with you, shoving both of you toward the wall, using every ounce of muscle to keep the blade from driving deeper as he suddenly looses all his strength and drops down. You quickly follow, pinning him to the ground before he can recover.

In the back of your mind, time is ticking. The knife isn’t lodged in you. You can already feel the warm trickle soaking onto your shirt, the sharp throb in your side growing louder with each heartbeat. You press your knee harder into his spine, just enough to make him stop squirming.

“Learn how to use a knife properly,” you say, which provokes him. He tries squirming around to get out but you apply pressure to his back, hurting him more and more.

“Ah. Ow. Ow. Ouch. Okay! Damn!” he screams in pain. His breathing is abnormal because of the liver shot delivered from you. “Get the fuck—.”

“Stay down while I’m being nice. And be glad I didn’t hit you hard,” you quietly say with a growl and look around, then back down to him. “Should I demonstrate where it would be better to kill you quickly?”

He doesn’t answer, everything you’re saying is scary when you’re in hands reach of his knife. Waves of dizziness starts to settle, the feeling of nausea kicks in as he groans from the pain, his vision starts to blur.

“It’ll be quick. You’ll feel it for about thirty seconds until your body goes into shock within a minute,”you say quickly, wanting to bring some sort of panic from him on purpose.

All you’re doing is scaring him. And neither was he good enough to put up a fight while armed with a knife. However, you did underestimated the sudden jolt of his willpower that got you hurt in the process. You’ll blame yourself for thinking he would drop the second you punched his liver without too much force.

“You’re just a thug… in a suit,” he slurs. “Another dog… for those soft, rich bastards. Leashed… till they say go.” He grunts, groaning in agony as you slam his face into the cold ground.

You didn’t like what he said one bit.

Within the moments of listening to his words, you wouldn’t say he was wrong—but being called a thug? That was over the line. You don’t want him to think he got in your head—even if he did.

“I don’t need your sympathy. I enjoy preying on people like you. And just to correct you, some hunting dogs can’t ever be controlled by a leash.”

He chokes on his cough, “you’re—fucking insane.”

“Be glad you’re still alive. Your chest looked like an easy target, the way you swung your knife around. You wouldn’t want to see your knife lodged in your heart, wouldn’t you? Especially from your own hands? How about a deep slash to your Achilles tendon? You won’t walk the same after.”

“Fucking psychopath,” he says, spitting his saliva on the ground, wheezing and groaning.

“Say it again,” you murmur and sigh. “You’re no different. You picked the wrong hunting dog and you’ll pay for it by being locked in a cage.”

Yet, despite toning down your aggression and daring him to repeat himself, he stays quiet. At the corner of your eyes, you see police officers running towards you. Slowly, you get off of the threat as he lays down exhausted, and voluntarily.

“Requesting additional medical support,” the police officer says into his radio, his calm, steady voice echoing faintly down the hallway as another officer walks alongside him.

Glancing down at the side of your stomach, you spot the wound. It doesn’t feel deep, but the moment your hand presses against it, pain flares, sharp and pulsing. Blood seeps through your shirt and fingers, faster than you expected, though it’s not the worst you’ve seen. Your grip weakens, but your face stays steady, calm and composed, like this isn’t the first time.

——

It’s the next day, a perfect day to be alone in your quiet house, resting as your injuries slowly heal. Peace settles over everything, undisturbed, until the sharp chime of the front doorbell cuts through the silence at fifteen minutes past noon. The unexpected sound piques your curiosity; you weren’t expecting anyone.

You glance at the front door camera and see Eunbi standing there. It’s completely unexpected. What surprises you even more is that she came alone with her car parked right in your driveway. With a quiet breath, you walk over and unlock the door, ready to greet her.

“Hey, so… um, I heard about yesterday,” Eunbi says, handing you a small bouquet of flowers along with her album and the extra goodies she promised. “I know men don’t usually get flowers, but I thought you might appreciate this.”

“Hi, and… thank you?” you say, a bit confused as you take the gifts from her hands. Flowers from her felt strange, beyond strange, but you appreciate the gesture. “Should I wire you the money? I’m supposed to pay for the album.”

“No, it’s alright. Please take it as a thank-you gift for watching over me yesterday. My manager made sure to send copies to your agency for your colleagues, and I personally signed each one. I promise."

“That’s nice of you, Eunbi,” you say, feeling the smooth weight of the album in your hands. A quiet moment settles between you. The sincerity of her gesture lingers in the air.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, and a quiet silence lingers between you again for a few seconds.

The stillness feels a little heavy, as if neither of you quite knows what to say next. There’s an unspoken distance between the two of you, neither close enough to fill the silence comfortably. You glance away briefly, the awkwardness settling in as the gap lingers just a bit too long.

“How did you get my address?” you ask. It’s a simple question, but the slight hesitation in your voice betrays your curiosity, and maybe a touch of awkwardness.

“My manager contacted your agency.”

You nod slowly, acknowledging it’s reasonable. “Alright. You probably had a good explanation to get them to give out my address so easily.”

“Are you mad at me?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Why would I?”

“You know, I… I didn’t mean to bother or annoy you yesterday or today, or even jinx anything from happening, Oppa."

“Yesterday? Oh, that’s just because I just didn’t want you to know what was happening.”

“Awh, that’s sweet of you. But are you doing anything today? I got in because your gate was opened. Were you going somewhere?”

“No, someone dropped off a med kit since I was running low. And sorry, I think you should head home. Not in a mood to talk.”

She didn’t like your response one bit. She was expecting you to comply. “Please? Aren’t we friends?”

“Are we?” you reply, tilting your head slightly to the right, a hint of skepticism flickering in your eyes.

“Are we not?” she counters back. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Like what?”

“Let me in,” she says, letting out a cautious, suppressed chuckle.

You turn around, rolling your eyes in mild irritation, and walk away from the door. You’re not in the mood, but you can’t bring yourself to force her out when she hasn’t done anything wrong. “Close the door after you get in,” you call over your shoulder.

Eunbi shuts the door behind her and quickly slips off her shoes. As she moves towards you, her eyes scan the space—much bigger, more modern, and sleeker than the small apartment she’s used to. “How much are you paying for this house?”

“That’s private information,” you say, opening the med kit in the living room and pulling out a small bandage to replace the one on your left arm.

“Ah, that’s right, you’re the boss. It’s not just a nickname. I get it now,” Eunbi says, sitting down beside you on the couch, hands resting quietly in her lap. “Bet it’s paid off, right?”

“No comment.”

She’s quietly taking you in—observing how you don’t treat her like a famous celebrity and how you’re letting her make herself at home. You weren’t the first to invite her in when it’s something she’d expect, but what surprised her most was that you didn’t ask for a photo or autograph. It’s eye-opening for her. For the first time, she feels like her fame has been gently stripped away, and it’s a strangely comforting feeling.

As her gaze shifts to your arm, a flicker of sympathy crosses her face. She begins to feel bad for what you endured yesterday. The room falls silent for what feels like minutes as you carefully peel the plastic off the adhesive.

“I’m sorry, Oppa.”

You meet Eunbi’s gaze, catching the genuine regret in her eyes. You shrug lightly, a small, reassuring smile tugging at your lips. “What are you sorry for? It’s my job, Eunbi.”

“But is violence always the answer? Even when you’re not the one causing the problem?”

“It’s better to calm things down with words,” you say, pausing to press the adhesive firmly onto your arm so it won’t come loose. “But who am I to say that when my colleague got stabbed? Would you do the same as me?”

“I would.”

“I assumed so,” you murmur and reach for the med kit to tightly close as it clicks in place.

“Can I ask you something?” Eunbi says hesitantly. You lean back on the couch, catching her uncertain expression before she meets your gaze. “Uh… how does it feel, being in a situation like yesterday? Is it scary?”

“You don’t focus on how it feels. You focus on what needs to be done. Ask a firefighter, they’d say the same.”

“Were you scared, though?” she asks, glancing at you as you look down at your own hands. You take a slow breath, your fingers tightening slightly before you finally meet her gaze.

“Hmm, it feels like a Sunday night when you know you have to get up and work the next day,” you chuckle, teasing a little as you look at her. “You just gotta get used to it and deal with it, ya know?”

“You’re so annoying,” she laughs, looking away to catch your reflection alongside hers in the TV screen. “But you’re kind of hot to be annoying.”

There she goes again—flirting. But this time, Eunbi doesn’t meet your eyes, even as you watch her closely. It makes you wonder: what other creative tactics does she have up her sleeve?

“My manager told me you got stitches,” Eunbi says, glancing back at you with a curious look.

“I did. Why?”

“Can I see it?”

Should you let her see your stitches? Neither are you close to comfortably lift your shirt up for her to see. But you couldn’t stop being curious on what she’s trying to do. You’ll be more than willingly to stir something up as the tension between the two of you grows. Because what’s really the reason why she’s staying this long?

“Sure,” you say, lifting the side of your shirt to reveal the stitches beneath a gauze pad. For whatever reason, time seems to slow as Eunbi reaches toward the wound without asking. Your hand snaps up, catching her wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She feels the firmness of your grip—but also the unexpected warmth in your touch. Her wrist is slender beneath your hand, your fingers overlapping with controlled pressure, restraint held just at the edge of release.

“Do you… like, feel lonely sometimes?” Eunbi murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. She looks a lot shyer now, like she’s bracing for something—your answer, maybe, or the silence that might follow. Her eyes meet your gaze, unsure if crossing the line between the two of you meant being pushed away.

You’re still gripping her wrist. The tension hasn’t broken—if anything, it’s sharpened, suspended in the space between you. Her skin is warm beneath your fingers, her pulse steady but not quite calm. You don’t speak right away, and in that pause, the weight of her question lingers—louder than either of you expected. In the stillness, your eyes lock, and the two of you stare at each other for just a little too long.

If anything can be read through her eyes, it’s not just curiosity—it’s a flicker of vulnerability, a silent plea for a sense of connection. Her gaze holds steady, soft yet unguarded, and though she doesn’t move closer, there’s a tension there—like she’s daring you to close the space between you.

“I remember you saying you get lonely sometimes, Eunbi,” you whisper. “I get it. I do too.”

She slowly leans in, close enough that you catch a faint trace of her scent. “We’re more alike than you think,” she murmurs. “Sometimes alone, sometimes in a crowd. Always on the move—city to city, country to country, barely any rest. Surrounded by people, by fans, but the loneliness creeps in when no one's around."

You see her point—there’s truth in it—but you’re not ready to buy into it. “I like the way you think, Eunbi,” you say quietly, “but no.”

Eunbi lets out a soft laugh, tilting her head. “So you’re saying no but in a really attractive way. Are you always this charming when you reject people?”

You try to stay composed, keeping your thoughts and lust in check. But it’s hard when she’s this close. The way her tits sit leaves a lot to the imagination when the line of her bra is just barely visible from her tight shirt. And that smile—the way she’s looking at you with steady eyes pulls your desire. The silence stretches with unspoken tension. Your gaze drops to her lips, then back up to her eyes. You crave her, no question. But still, you hesitate.

Your quietness lingers too long to where she adds on with a murmur, leaving her pride out, “have me today, will you?”

“Eunbi,” you say, your gaze locked onto hers, surprised as she reaches for your other hand and places it gently on her chest.

“I get a lot of messages from men. I know exactly what they want from me. But how come you’re not asking or trying to seduce me? I know my boobs are big and all, but are you more of an ass guy?”

You gulp, genuinely unsure how to respond. Part of you wants to play it cool, but another part is caught off guard—unsure whether to joke, deflect, or be honest. Honestly, what the hell are you even supposed to say in a moment like this?

“Am I not pretty enough?” she teases, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “How hard do you want to play before I have you wrapped around my finger?” She chuckles softly, leaning in just a little closer. “You’re pretty feisty. Try kissing me. Might just change your mind.”

You lean in even closer, and she closes her eyes, silently waiting for your lips wherever you dare choose to place them. But what you’re really doing is trying to read her pulse through her wrist—it’s racing faster from your playful teasing. Despite that, Eunbi gently slips her hand under your shirt, pressing her small palm against your chest, silently daring you to make the next move.

She opens her eyes with a flicker of embarrassment crossing her face for having to close them. She sighs softly, “can you stop playing hard to get? I need your help taking off my clothes, you know. Just for a while, make me feel vulnerable. Make me feel wanted.”

“What do I get in return?” you ask with a smirk, finally releasing her wrist that your right hand had been holding onto for what felt like forever.

She pushes you back against the couch’s backrest, straddling you as she leans in close. Her lips find your neck in a quick, heated kiss, and she murmurs softly, “anything.”

You slowly pull Eunbi into your embrace, your left hand sliding from her chest to rest gently at her side. Her curious lips explore you with delicate warmth, and in that quiet closeness, you both find something you’ve been needing—raw, unguarded connection. You want more. Those soft, inviting lips deserve to be kissed deeply, and her body craves the touch only you can give.

“Let me take you to my bed after,” you whisper, feeling Eunbi’s soft lips trail along the side of your neck, devouring you completely. A shiver runs down your spine, your breath catching as warmth floods your body, every nerve ignited by her touch.

“I’d love that,” she chuckles, pulling away just enough to grab both your hands. She compares them, hers noticeably smaller than yours. With a playful smile, she laughs softly, “It’s ironic how your hands were clenched into fists yesterday, but today I’m holding them like I might get manhandled.”

“Is that what you want, Eunbi?” you tease, a slow smile spreading as a playful smirk curls at the corner of your mouth.

“Well…,” she pauses, eyes softening as she glances down at your wound with a hint of playful concern. “Oppa, why don’t you just lie back and let me take care of everything?”

You like her idea—there’s something tempting about letting her take control, but you know damn well you’re not in any shape to do much with that injury to the side of your stomach. It’s a bittersweet feeling: wanting to be involved, yet needing to surrender to the moment.

“Sounds good?” she asks, her fingers lightly tracing the side of your jaw. You can’t help but appreciate the tenderness in her touch—so gentle, especially after the seriousness you showed just yesterday.

“I’m sorry that you have to do most of the work today,” you softly say.

She chuckles softly at your sincerity. “Isn’t that what friends are for? Sometimes we go out of our way just to help a little.”

“You said I can have anything from you, right? Let’s meet next time we’re both free, Eunbi. I’ll make it up.”

“Oh, so manly. You’re not going to take back those words, are you?”

You nod, tilting your head side to side. She finds the gesture way cuter than she expected. “Should we move to a more comfortable place? Your bed?”

With a quiet groan, you lift her into your arms. Eunbi can’t help but giggle, surprised by your sudden strength—and the fact she’s being carried. As you step into the bedroom, the door left slightly opened and forgotten, your eyes stay locked on her, drawn to her eyes.

“Lay down,” she urges softly, tapping your back. “I’ll take it from here.”

After Eunbi slides off, you rest your head on the pillow, eyes fixed on her curves. She slowly undresses herself by taking off her shirt to reveal the light pink bra she has on. You can’t help but admire how stunning she looks by feeling a heat rising inside you as your mind drifts to the thought of your face buried between her tits.

Eunbi grips her waistband, her knees locking in place as she bends down to slide her pants off, letting them fall softly to the floor. You lick your lips and swallow hard, eyes locked on her every move. She teases you with a small, playful sway before crawling onto the bed, settling herself gently on top.

“You’re hot. So damn hot,” you compliment her as your hand brushes against the smooth curve of her thighs up to her hips.

She lowers herself, closing her eyes as her lips part slightly before pressing softly against yours. Like the gentle tide meeting the shore, Eunbi’s touch is both tender and inevitable. You feel the warmth of her breath, the soft weight of her body pressing close. A smile tugs at her lips as she parts just enough to murmur, “may I undress you, handsome?”

Your whispered consent barely leaves your lips before her thighs wrap around you, firm yet inviting, locking you in place. As she pulls your pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, your cock springs free, catching her gaze. Eunbi lets out a slow, deep sigh— the kind that speaks of quiet relief, of tension finally easing as desire takes over.

“It’s so hard,” she chuckles, covering her mouth with one hand, a playful glint in her eyes. With her other hand, she hesitantly traces the waistband of her own panties, fingers trembling slightly as she savors the slow burn between you. There’s no rush—just the tension of anticipation, every second stretching out.

“Come back down and let me take your bra off, Eunbi,” you murmur, voice low and steady, eyes locking with hers. “Just slide your panties to the side.”

She crawls closer, leaning down so you can wrap your arms around her waist and unhook her bra with ease. Her breath brushes against your ear as she whispers, “can’t help but crave my body?”

“Whatever you say,” you murmur playfully, pulling her face closer to press a soft kiss to her lips. Your eyes close as your arms tighten around her. Your tongues dance slowly, teasing and exploring, exchanging heated breaths that mingle with the warmth of the room. Every second, you lose yourself more—the feel of her body, the taste of her lips—completely captivated by such a beauty.

But all that tenderness disappears the moment she breaks away from your lips with a heavy breath and sits upright. “I can’t wait any longer, Oppa.”

You clearly see the dark, damp spot spreading on her panties—proof enough that you’ve already stirred something deep inside her. Without even touching, you’ve got her this wet. The anticipation in Eunbi’s eyes is unmistakable as she slowly crawls back, settling on one knee while spreading the other leg wide. You reach out your hand, offering support in case she loses balance on the soft bed.

Eunbi spits on her hand and wraps it around the tip of your cock as it throbs from a touch. Then with a quick glance at you, she slides her panties to the side and slowly brushes the tip of your cock on her pussy in a teasing way before she slips it in. Both of you exchange a moan the moment you feel the tight hug and Eunbi feeling the length of your cock sliding into her slick walls.

“Fuck,” she breathes out, followed by a soft grunt. Your cock hasn’t even fully disappeared inside her, yet, Eunbi is already struggling to take every inch.

“Don’t rush it, Eunbi,” you let out a breath, feeling the warmth of her walls tighten around your cock.

Her breath catches, and a soft whimper barely escapes her lips. “Oh my gosh,” Eunbi moans, voice trembling with a mix of surprise and pleasure as she arches her back.

You gently grasp her wrist, guiding Eunbi down to lie on top of you. She exhales a heavy, shuddering breath as your bodies press close. “You feel so good, Eunbi,” you murmur, your voice thick with desire for every touch of her skin.

“You’re really stretching me out," she murmurs with her breath soft against the pillow, the warmth of her tits pressing onto your chest. Eunbi moves slowly, riding you with a measured rhythm, savoring each sensation of your cock penetrating her tight pussy—just enough to keep the pleasure building without overwhelming herself and you.

Your lips trail along her shoulders, tasting the warmth of her skin as she muffles a soft moan into the pillow. Your breaths grow heavier, syncing with the rhythm of her movements, while your hands roam freely, exploring the curve of her back before reaching down to her ass. You grab and squeeze, claiming them like it’s all yours with a gentle slap right after.

“So—,” she catches her breath, “aggressive.”

“Sounds like you enjoy it,” you reply back to her with a growl.

“I love it. A lot.”

And that was the last conversation for a few minutes. She’s not riding you hard. She takes every inch slowly, savoring the moment while your cock disappears in and out of her. You let Eunbi moan freely while hearing your own breath catch in her ear. It’s a wordless, therapeutic exchange—your bodies speaking for each other in perfect harmony.

“Eunbi,” you gulp and let a breath out, breaking the passionate silence, “hold on.”

“Can’t help it?” Eunbi murmurs, pausing as she feels your cock throbbing deep inside her. She leans close to your ear, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. “I don’t want you to cum just yet.”

Well, if she doesn’t want you to cum yet, you want her to, on your cock, from your very hands. You’ll make this Waterbomb goddess breathless with her toes curling up. “May you sit up, Eunbi? I want to see how pretty you are.”

That’s one way to make Eunbi’s heart skip a beat. She’s not used to hearing this side of you, and it catches her completely off guard.

“A little flirty, aren’t you?” she gets up slowly from the pillow, chuckling with a smile. Her smile is charming—you’ll admit it, but your attention starts shifting to her tits. She tracks your eyes and grabs your hands, guiding you to touch her tits. “I know you love them.”

“Who honestly wouldn’t?” you murmur and squeeze her tits, playing with them as she grinds on your cock. She holds onto both your forearms as grip while continuing to grind on you.

“Such big arms,” she seductively says, letting out a quiet moan and stares at you for a reply. “How lucky would a woman be to have you?”

“Extremely,” you say, teasing her. She quickly rolls her eyes, getting so annoyed of your cheeky response. It’s almost like she expected that. “What’s wrong, Eunbi?” you softly chuckle to play innocent, when you can assume she’s hating.

“Fuck you,” she chuckles along with you and pauses from grinding to guide your hands to her hips.

“But you are though,” you quickly reply, staring at each other in the eyes, which, you aren’t going to look away until she does. “Take a breath, Eunbi. Slow down if you have to. We have time.”

“Why do you stare at me like that, Oppa?” she says, brushing her thumb on your arm.

“Like… what?”

“You have charming eyes. No one told you?”

You shrug, unsure if she’s just bluffing because she’s on top of you with your cock deep inside her.

“It’s a compliment, by the way,” she murmurs and rides you slowly, not breaking eye contact. But you can clearly see how pink her cheeks have gotten. Slowly, you trace one hand down from her tits to her crotch as she lets go from your arms and place it on your chest. You slowly rub her clit as she lets out a whimper with her body quivering. “It’s sensitive, Oppa,” she moans.

Well, that just makes it a whole lot easier.

“I want you to cum, Eunbi.”

She stops riding you once the tip of your fingers rub her clit in circles. Eunbi’s moans get loud, neither are you stopping when your cock is lodged so deep that you can feel every pulsation from her walls. She struggles to even position still on top. You’re enjoying this, a lot. Just hearing the beautiful voice of hers makes you want more.

“Oppa,” she murmurs out with a groan and her body starts quivering uncontrollably, grinding gently on your cock. Eunbi’s breath turns heavier, arching her back, closing her eyes as she faces up towards the ceiling, cumming hard with her hands gripping onto your chest. It’s a sight to see her tits mashing each together with the body spasms as she continues to whimper and moan. Eunbi quickly grabs onto your hand, stopping you from rubbing her clip. She can’t handle more as she lets out a gasp, begging you to take it a little easy on her.

“Come back down, Eunbi,” you murmur, pulling her down as you’re greeted with her tits in your face. So without a single hesitation, you suck on them—both sides in respectful turns. Her breaths are still heavy as she rides out her orgasm. You burry your face between them and catch a breath, all while she smiles from all the sensitive nerves being felt from her chest and your cock.

“I told you my pussy is very sensitive,” Eunbi chuckles in between her breaths.

“Couldn’t help it,” you murmur, not a thought of stopping from feasting on her tits.

She continues to ride your cock slowly. There’s a sense of shyness from Eunbi after you made her cum. Every subtle touch and attention of yours makes her have some closure like she wanted.

You take a breath as she doesn’t stop pushing back down onto your cock. “Keep going. Just like that, Eunbi.”

“Love it that much?” she murmurs and lets out a seductive chuckle.

“Yeah,” you utter, gasping. Your hands reach to her ass for a tight, yet gentle squeeze.

Eunbi can tell you’re reaching your limit from how creamy and slick your cock’s penetrating into her. If Eunbi can make you have a memory of her, she’ll want this next moment to be for you. If she’s all smiling and laughing on your screen, Eunbi wants you to know that there’s still unfinished business the more she waits for a second time together.

“Cum,” she murmurs, kissing your neck, “cum inside this tight, little pussy.” Then she takes a quick breath, “it’s all yours, handsome.”

“Don’t slow down,” you gasp, grunting as Eunbi smiles by the way she picks up the pace. Feeling every throb, every breath onto her tits, and hearing your moans, you cum, making her feel the warmth of you cumming inside her. However deep Eunbi wanted it, you couldn’t stop cumming from how good this felt.

Eunbi pauses with your cock throbbing less and less every second. You feel her lips pressing against your neck, then up to your own. She gives you a kiss on the lips, almost like a passionate thank-you gift—another one.

“I let you cum in me for a reason, Oppa,” she murmurs, quickly pressing her lips back onto yours, intentionally not letting you speak a word. However, you’ll throw that to the side for now when her soft lips are craving more.

——

Eunbi lies beside you, her fingers gently tracing the edges of the bandage on your arm. You run your hand through her hair with slow care, both of you half-dressed, bodies still warm from the closeness. The room is quiet, wrapped in a kind of peaceful intimacy.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asks out of the blue, her voice soft and curious. Her pointer finger begins to trace slow circles over the bandage on your arm where the wound rests beneath. It’s a gentle, soft gesture—part playful, part intimate—as if she’s feeling out your answer not just in words, but through your body.

“The sex?” you reply.

“Yeah,” she chuckles shyly, unable to look at you.

“I did, Eunbi.”

She’s glad you enjoyed it, and with a smile, she giggles, “I needed that after working so hard for these past few months. I feel so… relieved.”

“It just had to be with me, wasn’t it?” you chuckle and tease her as she looks down at the side of your stomach where your stitches were.

“I couldn’t help it, Oppa. You let me in your home despite the fame I have. I’m sure I wasn’t the only woman in this bed.”

“You don’t think any less of me for that… do you, Eunbi?” you ask quietly, your gaze steady but your tone carrying the weight of curiosity.

“I get it. And I don’t think I’m the only one who’d feel this way. You didn’t treat me like some celebrity when I walked in. You weren’t chasing after anything, not my fame, not my body. It didn’t feel like you had some hidden motive. You’re… a good guy. I respect that.”

You look at Eunbi with a genuine smile, meeting each other’s eyes, “thank you.”

It’s a simple compliment, bit enough to make her heart flutter. “If anything, I should be the one saying thank you,” she murmurs with a small smile.

“Then kiss me if you mean it,” you laugh as she playfully hits you on the chest gently.

“You’re annoying,” Eunbi chuckles.

“But I’m too hot to be annoying, right?”

She’ll ignore the question, only because she doesn’t want to admit it again. “Do you want me to stay over tonight? Actually, may I? If you’re not busy?”

“I have a debriefing tomorrow in the early afternoon. Will that work for you?”

“What’s that?”

“Just going over about what happened yesterday. What went wrong, what could have been prevented, you know, those stuff. It’s required.”

“Are you there as the Boss or a colleague?”

You smirk, and teasingly chuckle in her face with no intentions of telling her.

She rolls her eyes at you with a chuckle. “Okay, yeah, I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon too. Give me your phone number before I forget.”

#kpop smut #kwon eunbi #izone eunbi #izone smut

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mona-risms · 20 hours ago

Text

◆ MAIN COURSE: Rumi x boxer!gn!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW, romantic

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: None

◆ NOTES: Let's fucking try this AGAIN. Bc for some reason Tumblr decided to be a nasty little shit and post my draft HALF AN HOUR AGO when IT WAS CLEARLY SET TO "SAVE DRAFT" and I was fucking EDITING IT. But whatever I'm nonchalant

So when a boxer is found out to be dating someone, it's like. Basically fine. Whatever you have your own life outside of the ring, good for you. But when an IDOL does it, the entire world explodes. Rumi's most definitely always exasperated about this but also she's not really all that bothered--she likes her privacy (or as much privacy as a K-Pop idol can get anyway) AND she def likes seeing a side to you that only she will ever see :3c

You could just easily walk out after training and grab snacks you know that Rumi (and the others, bc ofc you can't just ignore your girlfriend's two closest people) loves to eat before heading back to the penthouse. You even get them their favourite ramyeon cups cuz why not? Maybe you even text her if she wanted you to pick up anything specific and she says that you don't have to! Before quickly following it up with what she actually wants and then like a sticker, probably of herself for comedic effect LMFAO

While you're doing that and making your way to the penthouse, HUNTR/X are doing a vlive. They probably just kinda have it so like they can just drop in and drop out whenever, so maybe while they're doing it together, Rumi gets your message and she smiles before she can even stop it. Ofc the viewers WILL pick it up and they're like "OH????? WHO GOT YOU SMILING LIKE THAT" to which the trio immediately scramble aka Rumi says she saw little turtles on her feed and sets Zoey off on a tangent bc they all know FULL WELL why Rumi's smiling. She probably drops out a little later to go do her own thing (code for texting you on the other side of the room)

And then 😭 you fucking arrive 😭 completely unaware of the stream going on, esp if you have earbuds on for music and stuff 😭. The lift doors open and out you pop, immediately making a beeline for Rumi at the kitchen section to say hi, to give her the bag of snacks you picked up on the way, to lean in so that you can--

"AAAAAAAH TURN IT OFF TURN IT OFF--"

"I'M TRYING--"

You and Rumi immediately jump away from each other before the latter ducked down to hide behind the kitchen counter, taking you down with her.

"Shit," you hissed out quietly, "sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"No, no, it's okay," but Rumi winced at herself before continuing, "well, no, not really, but it's not your fault, okay? I probably should've told you we were doing a vlive. Plus this probably means that—" she raised her volume for the other two members "—WE SHOULD PROBABLY CHANGE THE COUCH FORMATION!"

"FINALLY! Thought it'd never turn off."

"BUT THE COUCH HAS SUCH A NICE VIEW!"

You stood back up, helping Rumi up in the process and wrapping your arms around her, "A nice view of me, apparently. Still, I probably screwed you guys over, didn't I?"

"What? Pshh, naaaah," Zoey waved it off haphazardly, "it's totally fine! I bet they didn't even notice and Bobby's not panicking whatsoever!"

Of course, it's followed by Rumi's ringtone, prompting her to pick it up—Bobby—and answer, "Heeeeey, Bobby, how's--"

"GIRLS, I'M PANICKING! EVERYONE SAW RUMI WITH SOMEONE ELSE AND NOW SOCIAL MEDIA IS ON FIRE WITH THEORIES ABOUT RUMI'S LOVE LIFE!" Bobby's very panicked screaming is then immediately snuffed out when he forces himself to stay calm, "It's okay. I'm okay. There's a reason you pay me 3% and I am going to PROVE--"

The call is immediately terminated with a beep when Mira, who you hadn't even realised had walked over to the kitchen island presses the merciful red 'end call' button, her other hand already making its way to grab at a snack in the plastic bag. "Anyway. Don't even worry about it. Best case scenario, they forget about it. Worst case scenario, they storm you and the internet for answers--"

"Not helping, Mira--"

"--but it's not the end of the world. You either just wait for it to blow over or own it," Mira opened the bag of crisps and took one in her mouth, "which I'd obviously say 'screw them' and own it anyway, but I know the fans can get a bit--"

"--wild?"

"--wild, crazy, all of the above." The tallest member moves back to her original spot on the couch, holding out the bag for Zoey to take some too, "Just let Bobby handle it—not like their face was shown clearly anyway. And if someone comes up too close to be weird about it, [Y/N]'s a boxer for a reason."

A small laugh left your lips as Rumi leaned back into your embrace and tilted her head to press a kiss on your face, further making herself comfortable, "I'd rather not have an assault charge on me."

"And I'd rather not have to visit them in jail," Rumi added.

"Hey, your loss."

Oh to make an entire twt AU about this.....unfortunately I'm lazy ay eff and will absolutely forget about it in like a day or two

I pray you have your socmed notifs off or else there's like an entire ONSLAUGHT of posts in every single postable platform. Kpop twt is on fire and even people outside of it are getting involved, there's like debates and fights like 'WHO JUST CAME INTO THE PENTHOUSE THAT'S NOT MANAGER-NIM👹👹👹👹" vs "let them live wtf yall crazy" and honestly it's really funny to read. Even Rumi finds it a little entertaining bc all this fuss just bc you walked into the frame and brought them snacks. Bobby and co. are trying their best but like. The devil works hard but the fandom works harder yk

And the THEORIES. Not just about what relationship you have w Rumi, but what you were gonna do before Mira and Zoey started screaming and who you even are in the first place. There's actual WARS happening about this, and fans are all on a scale from "omg happy for her" and "WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO US". This eventually reaches boxing twt somehow and it gets WORSE when they EVENTUALLY profile-match you LOL

Now YOU don't know peace either as you go outside. Suddenly ticket sales for when you're fighting TRIPLE bc everyone wants to see and bombard the mystery stranger with QUESTIONS about what your link with Rumi is. And before this, Rumi probably watched all your matches asw. Now she can't even do that bc of damage control 😓 and Zoey sends you pics of Rumi sulking during practice bc she's missing a match of yours thanks to the stream (that most likely has been clipped more than 20x now)

Eventually she'll end up getting so tired—especially if this is taking place post-demon reveal—of having to distance herself from you for a while thanks to the whole thing that at some point during a concert, imagine tone of their other songs has a segment like the Saki seat or smth

The arena had boomed with shrieks and cheers and HUNTR/X's music as they went through their setlist with deadly precision. Though you came to wonder why you were told to sit in this specific seat when before, you were often just given any other place to watch them from whenever they performed.

You weren't really given a lot of time to wonder, however, when the music gets to a certain part—one you knew required certain audience participation—but you simply cheered your girls on as your girlfriend made her way to--

Wait.

"Wh--"

You don't even get your words out before Rumi pulled you up, the spotlight pointedly following her just like the other two's line of sight, and pulled you in for a VERY public kiss.

"YES!" "Ugh, finally!"

But even their mid-song exclamations could only barely be heard at the deafening screams of the venue around you as the two of you are blatantly displayed on the jumbotron. Though it's not like you care, not at that particular moment, as you pull her closer to deepen the kiss.. before Rumi eventually pushes you back down on the chair lightly. The jumbotron shows your shared breathless state, along with the idol's unrepentant grin amongst slightly-smeared lipstick that stayed even as she jumped for the hoop that swept her away.

..Yeah, there was no denying anything anymore.

By god, you love this girl.

The internet implodes into itself after taht, with people showing recordings and clips of your public kiss. But honestly neither of you probably care atp 🤷‍♀️ at least you two can go out together and cling on each other without it being a huge question mark anymore. If anything she'll def own it—wearing your clothes and hoodies as she's spotted watching your matches and everything HAHAHA

#mona's main course...#rumi x reader #kdh rumi x reader #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters imagines #kdh x reader #kdh imagines #huntrix x reader #huntrix imagines #huntr/x x reader #huntr/x imagines

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lvl109 · 2 days ago

Text

“i’m really fucking nervous about this date and you're not helping at all, you bitch!”

your cries fall on deaf ears as his impartial gaze settles in outfit number sixteen, letting out a petulant huff as cerulean hues drag themselves over the newest combination of the same sweaters and shoes. the only difference? this skirt settled right at your mid thigh.

his brows furrow. a quick glance to your face makes your arms crossed, but he doesn't miss the embarrassment settling over your face. his eyes narrow immediately.

“you're wearin' the fuck me skirt?!”

“satoru gojo, so help me g—what?”

he's not listening. he hadn't even been a fan of the absolute douche you'd suddenly became infatuated with, rolling his eyes at your incessant fawning over lending him pens (that he never returned, the audacity of that utensil-poaching fucker) and doing his ultimate best friend duty of trying his best to keep you tethered to earth.

but his chest twists when he watches you smooth over the short fabric, lips pressed into a thin line as he watches you twist and turn in front of your full length mirror. you look good. and he's told you such after each outfit change. that's not even the issue.

but not that skirt. anything but that skirt.

“i've only ever seen you wear that skirt once! and it was when you were trying to get laid when we went to that frat party!” he points a finger at you accusingly when you scoff. “don't think i forgot. you cried when you saw that ponytail wearin' freak had his tongue down another girl’s throat and then proceeded to throw up all over my shoes!”

“that was two years ago! cho and i are friends now. stop calling him a freak, freak.” you smooth down your hair and check your lips for any smudges, batting off any of his (reasonable) complaints much to his outward dismay. “'fuck me skirt'. why do i even spend time with you? you read too much porn.”

he chooses to ignore that in favor of glaring at your back. “all i'm sayin’ is that i don't trust him. you know, the guy who made you cry so hard you nearly missed your last final? why the hell is he setting you up with someone else? and why are you letting him??”

“because unlike you, i don't have people tripping over their feet trying to get a date with you, alright?” your tube of lipgloss slams down against your dresser with more force than expected. your tone shocks him quiet instantly. “god forbid i go after someone that shows interest in me.”

satoru stares at your expression reflected in the mirror. slight annoyance, exasperation, and a bit of anger he wasn't expecting. but the one that makes him sit up a bit straighter from where he was lounging on your bed was uncertainty. you're nervous. your hands fidget with the hem of your skirt even as you huff in frustration.

“so just… stop, okay? i'm going to see him whether you like it or not. i just want to have a good time tonight.”

satoru stares.

the familiar feeling of something rotten stirs in his chest again. it laughs at him as you flit around your room, leering and pointing at his demise. this time when you ask him for his opinion, he tells you what you want to hear. your thankful smile at his cooperation does nothing to tame the growing pit of disdain.

jealousy festers within him once again. who cares if he got confessions daily? who cares if his locker was constantly stuffed to the brim with love letters and candies? who the fuck cared if his phone (silenced, always silenced with you) pinged with countless others clamoring for his attention?

none of it mattered as much as you did to him. none of it did. so why couldn't you see that despite the fame and the notoriety, all he'd ever wanted was you?

he watches as you toe on your shoes, the unspoken offer of using his shoulder to help you balance on each leg going unsaid as you gratefully lean on him. the warmth of your hand is near intoxicating. but he can't help but think about—

if she bent any lower, his inner voice supplies helpfully, anyone could see underneath her skirt.

he exhales heavily as it laughs at him again, offering an easygoing smile when you raise a brow at him. “i'm sorry, angel,” he offers sweetly, taking your hands in his and drawing you closer. you step in between his legs and narrow your eyes. “i really am, okay? you can't blame me for being protective. i promised your mom, remember?”

“yeah, when we were like five.” you roll your eyes, but you're not as mad at him anymore and his heart does a funny little dance at the sight of a smile peeking through. “idiot. why do you even remember that? we're not kids anymore. i can take care of myself.”

“i literally just told you about how you threw up on my shoes over a stupid guy.”

it earns him a smack to his head, but he chooses to ignore the faint pain in favor of basking in the light of your laugh. “as long as you don't forget about me if you get a boyfriend,” he snarks lightly, pulling out the pout he knows will get a reaction from you. “you promised we'd never be apart. linked pinkies ‘n all. clearly someone doesn't respect the sanctity of pinkie promises.”

he expects another cuff to his head. maybe a smartass response, maybe a shut up, toru. he's used to orbiting around you much to your other friends' shared exasperation and incurable betting habits. (he's sure shoko has made at least a small fortune on him.)

you link your pinkies instead, leaning down to press your lips to your thumb. he goes still for a bit, having to be nudged to do the same. slowly, your thumbs press against each other in a quiet promise.

“don't be stupid.” you ruffle his hair with your other hand, stepping away to look for your bag. he misses your warmth immediately. “you're my best friend. we’ll be together forever.”

just not in the way he wants.

#file.fics #this might get a pt 2 idk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo fic

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rafesyangel · 16 hours ago

Note

Reader (JJs younger sister) going to Rafe asking for money for period products bc yk moneys tight.

You stood outside Tannyhill chewing the inside of your cheek, anxiety bubbling in your chest as your arms crossed tight over your midsection. The cramps were killing you—deep, dull, twisting like a knife—and the last of your painkillers had been gone since yesterday. What was worse?

You had one pad left. One.

JJ was out all day, and you'd already scoured every corner of the house hoping to find a couple of spare dollars, maybe loose change—anything. But things had been tight lately. And desperate times called for... well, desperate measures.

So now you were standing outside Rafe Cameron’s house, practically shivering despite the sun. You knocked.

The door swung open with force like he’d been ready to fight someone.

His eyes narrowed the second he saw you. “You lost?”

“No.”

He looked behind you like JJ might come jumping out of a bush with a baseball bat. “You here alone?”

“Yes.”

His arms folded across

“The hell?” he mumbled, rubbing his face. “You lost or something?”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let your nerves show. “I just… needed a favor.”

He raised a brow at you

You hesitated. Then blurted, “Can I borrow, like, ten bucks?”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “For what?”

Your face burned. “For... period stuff.”

There was a beat of silence.

He blinked. “Period stuff?”

You nodded quickly. “Like pads and ibuprofen. Nothing crazy. I just—ran out and don’t wanna ask JJ right now.”

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, looking you up and down like you’d just asked him to preform open heart surgery

“You know your brother would actually commit murder if he knew you were here asking me for—” he paused, motioning vaguely at your stomach, “—uterus supplies.”

You almost laughed despite the cramps. “So dramatic.”

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, scratching his jaw. “He barely lets me breathe in your direction.”

“Can I just have ten bucks or not?” You were starting to feel anxious now worried about his reaction

Rafe groaned, stepping back inside. “Wait here.”

You expected him to come back and hand you some crumpled bills and tell you to scram. But instead, five minutes later, he opened the door againthis time with keys in hand, phone in his other, and a sweatshirt pulled over his head.

“Let’s go.”

You blinked. “Go where?”

“To the damn store,” he said, like it was obvious. “I’m not letting you walk around with cramps and no meds like that”

The trip to the store was… silent , to say the least.

Rafe banned you from existing the car while he went the feminine hygiene aisle

“No offense, but the fact that you're bleeding ,wanna go all the way there seems painful too me ” he grumbled, shooing you some candy in his pocket “Distract yourself or something. I got this.”

You tried to protest but he was already diving into the aisle like he was going to war. He stood there, hands on his hips, staring down the shelves like he was picking out a car instead of pads. You caught glimpses of him squinting at boxes, turning tampons upside down

At one point he grabbed an older woman and asked in a serious whisper, “Hey, quick question. If someone’s like... young but not a kid, what size tampon is that?”

You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

When you caught back up with him, his basket was stuffed. Pads, tampons, panty liners, painkillers, a heat patch, a heating pad, three different brands of chocolate, sour gummies, a full bag of mini cookies, and—somehow—a stuffed bunny plush.

You stared at the bunny. “...Seriously?” You thought

Rafe came back to the car 30 mins later hands full of plastic bags, He looked defensive.“I don’t know,what you use”

You tried not to smile at him trying but failed miserably “You bought, like, five different kinds of pads.”

“Didn’t know which ones you probably wanted ,” he shrugged, tossing another bag in the backseat“Better safe than sorry, right?”

You blinked at him. “This is... way more than ten bucks.”

“Yeah? So?”

“I didn’t mean for you to buy me a period starter kit, Rafe.”

He rolled his eyes. “Relax and just sit still “

You caught the tiniest bit of pride in his expression. Like he was proud he hadn’t gotten you the wrong kind. Like he cared

You hugged the stuffed bunny tight against your stomach and leaned back in the seat with a groan.

“Cramps?” he asked.

“Always.”

Then without warning he reached over and gave your lower belly a soft little pat.

You tensed slightly“Owieee!”

“What??” he looked startled. “I thought that’s what people do when you have a tummy ache.”

“Wh-whoo said this” you squirmed while burying the stuffed bunny harder in your stomach

“No one! I just figured—” He trailed off, “forget it”

You started laughing, still wincing. “You patted me like I was a sick puppy.”

“Because you look like one,” he shot back, but his voice was gentler now

You smiled, quietly, holding the bunny in your lap as you looked at him. “Thanks, Rafe. Seriously.”

He shrugged, turning away, “Whatever. Don’t make it a habit.”

You leaned back and rested your head against the window, bunny tucked under your arm, cramps dull but a little more bearable now.

Rafe Cameron was chaotic, unpredictable, and a little emotionally stunted.

#rafe cameron x original female character #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe x you

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jordiemeow · 2 days ago

Note

omg would love your thoughts on stepbrother!patrick. def a lot more of a freak

absolutely agreed. where art is a freak in private, patrick could not care LESS.

he's ogling you shamelessly, watching the way your shorts ride up or your tits spill out of your tank. wolf whistling, patting you on the ass when he passes and muttering fake apologies despite the way you catch a glimpse of the corner of his lip quirks as soon as he turns away. accidentally barges in on you in the shower when he needs his toothbrush but he takes his time to admire the curve of your body through the fogged-up glass and rubs one out afterwards.

he convinces himself it's you who wants it. the way you look at him and goad him when your parents aren't home. you're just as pervy as he is. or, at least, that's how he justifies it. actively makes comments like "you don't even try to be quiet, do you? it's like you want me to hear" when he hears you touching yourself in the next room over. on one occasion, he pushes his luck enough to 'accidentally' walk in on you, legs spread and toy nestled between them. you see him, of course. maybe you keep going anyways, just to mess with him.

"you like putting on a show that much, huh?"

and then the front door opens before things can escalate, leaving you both to come down from whatever the fuck that was alone in your separate bedrooms.

it all comes to a head a while after that. you get blasted out of your mind at a party and he offers to take you home. not that he's in any state to drive, mind you, but he sees an opportunity. he somehow manages to get the pair of you home safely but neither of you make any effort to get out of the car. he leans over to undo your seatbelt for you, hand lingering on your thigh while the pair of you stare at each other. he's not sure who moves first—probably him—but five minutes later he has you bent over in the back seat right outside your house, ploughing into you, groaning about how he's wanted to do this for so long. about how he's sick of seeing you in bikinis and not being able to do anything, sucking on lolly pops to taunt him, leaving your door open just a crack when you're getting changed.

absolutely brags to art about it afterwards because he knows his best friend has a thing for you. "no condom, by the way. she liked it messy." art tells him he's sick, but he just shrugs it off. "maybe. but i still fucked her first."

maybe one night you bring a date home, cosied up on the couch to watch a movie. patrick's passive aggressive all night, deciding now he's a living room kind of guy to avoid leaving the pair of you alone. he justifies it by claiming he's just a 'good brother' and 'keeping an eye on you.' but when your date goes home, he's quick to corner you.

"you think he can fuck you better than me? bet he doesn't even know what you sound like when you cum."

"of course he does," you lie straight through your teeth.

"wanna compare? let me bend you over right now and prove it."

refuses to touch you until you're begging. his dirty talk is always absolutely filthy, always highlighting the reality of your relationship. "say it. say you want your stepbrother to fuck you. c'mon, use your words." he gets off on the thrill of being caught. sneaking into your room at night, hand over your mouth to silence your sweet mewls. every thrust a risk, each moan a gamble, but it's worth it in the end. "ah ah ah. shhh. you're being loud again, baby. you want them to hear? want them to know you're getting filled by their golden boy?"

he's big into hickeys. thinks it's fucking hilarious to point them out in front of your parents, acting like it wasn't him that left him there just to watch how embarrassed you get while your mother frowns in disapproval and his dad pretends not to notice.

he acts like he's proud of you. like you're just some innocent little thing. you get good grades—as far as your parents are concerned, you never do anything wrong. patrick would do anything to break that image. "you're such a good girl for everyone else.... but in this room, with my cock in your mouth? not daddy's sweet girl anymore, are you?"

or he makes you watch yourself in the mirror. hand curled around your throat to keep your head up so you can see the blissed out, cock-drunk look on your face. "look at yourself. look how fucked out you are. look what your stepbrother does to you."

he sends you filthy texts at the dinner table with your family asking whether you're thinking about it too. about him taking you right there. bet your pussy's already dripping through those little shorts. and when you reply with wanna check? he ducks his head under the table to 'pick up his fork,' met with the sight of you opposite him, pushing your shorts to the side, pussy glistening and no panties in sight. what a tease.

loves when you talk back. he's big into testing your limits: edging, choking, orgasm control, anal, calling you dirty names just to see how far he can take it. and you're always willing to go further. "look at you. from my bratty little stepsister to my perfect little slut."

also probably has a breeding kink. finds it especially hot because he's your 'brother.' send tweet

#tw stepcest #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #jo asks ⋆˚࿔#jo blurbs ⋆˚࿔

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mcflymemes · 3 days ago

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PROMPTS FROM DATE EVERYTHING (PART 1) * assorted dialogue from the 2025 video game, adjust as necessary

i ordered this couch, but it popped, and now my kitchen is all wet and covered with wet stuff.

i need you. i need to care for you. it is the reason for my existence.

do you want to go on a date?

can you tell me how the book made you angry?

your life is about to change. hope you're ready.

let's go on a date right now.

trust me, this is going to go super well.

if everyone were friends, the world would be an awful lot safer in my opinion.

i've seen the complications of love. i've lived through the jealous quarrels of hate.

the true bond is one between two friends with none of the intricacies of romantic tension.

i like it much better up here where i can see your face.

hey there, stranger.

we've been sleeping together so many years, it would be a little weird if you didn't know me, don't you think?

it's a shame for someone as cute as you to be alone for so long, isn't it?

will you be bringing someone back here anytime soon?

i do hope you'll come talk to me. it'd be nice to finally get to know each other.

you've caught me at a strange time.

that's okay. i like being naked.

why are you here? what are you doing?

please, please... i'm not ready. not like this.

i've dreamed of this, of meeting you, finally... and now the moment is here, i... i just can't. not yet.

honestly, that's a objectively terrible password.

i get chills just thinking about it.

i would love to answer that for you, but the knowledge would no doubt drive you to madness.

can i be honest about something?

it's just that... before today, i had all these needs, but i couldn't articulate them to anyone.

you're quite the looker, aren't you?

i have had enough attention on me, thank you very much.

i can't say i'm looking for anything too serious right now.

i just want to see you live a little, that's all! stop watching life pass you by! enjoy yourself! kiss someone! kiss many someones!

my senses are heightened when i'm in a mood.

the physical connection between him and me... it is like nothing i have known before or since.

thank you, sincerely, for listening.

you're serious? you're not fucking with me?

do you, like me, enjoy celebrating at the altar of your own glorious form?

i knew i could count on you.

are you as excited as i am?

you are radiant.

i was thinking we could visit some very naughty websites together.

honestly, you're being super disrespectful.

we'll have to work on that enthusiasm.

get out. i've got work to do.

what brings you to the call of night?

i have been waiting in the abyss in search of a companion.

you? i always thought of you as a companion, someone who followed me around and gave me advice. cute, but expendable.

do you enjoy coming here?

i assume you brought your tools and knowledge and... probably a snack of some sort?

i am beside myself with happiness.

what can i do for you?

today was supposed to be my day off.

how much do you think about me?

for you, there is almost nothing i wouldn't do to help you relax.

to know that i'm giving you precisely the thing you want at that moment... oh, it fulfills me. it makes me whole.

as soon as i fulfill your command, your desire, i become the one with the power.

sometimes i cannot resist playing your sensation. just a bit. i am a craftsman and you are my clay.

now i have truly said too much.

i'd be lying if i said i wasn't just a little bit sweet on you.

hold onto me real tight.

#date everything #rp prompt #rp memes #rp meme #mcflymemes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #roleplay meme #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 3 days ago

Note

Been writing a lot about us being the scary ones in the neighborhood, and I love those. But for a change of pace, could you perhaps please write smth about the reader being scared and looking to the puppets for comfort/protection? Thank you!

Added Sally to this because I need to give her more attention.

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Sally and Wally when the Reader is afraid

Sally

★ When she sees you looking scared, her first instinct is to laugh it off. Surely you were just acting? Right? But then your hands start to shake like a leaf. And your eyes aren't meeting hers. Then she realizes, this is real.

★ You panic behind the curtain. Away from prying eyes. Sally doesn't know what to do. For a minute she paces while thinking. Trying to come up with a solution to this problem. Unaware that some things aren't that simple.

★ She pulls you into a hug. "Do you need anything? Tea? A blanket?" While she speaks, she feels you trembling slightly. What on Earth could've scared you so? You're supposed to be the scary one. Being a human with sharp teeth and claws.

Wally

★ Home is the best place to be in this situation. The door locks as soon as you enter. And as you cower in the corner, a curtain moves to drape across your shoulder. Home trying its best to comfort you. A sympathetic *tap tap tap* sound coming from the window.

★ If Wally is inside, Home "fetches" him. Letting him know you need some help. There's something pitiful about seeing you like this. Silently breaking in a corner like a scared child. When Wally finds you, he's taken aback.

★ He's not used to seeing you like this, and doesn't speak right away. He simply sits besides you. Not touching. Just there. Before asking "Neighbor?" Softly. If you reach out, he'll hold your hand with a light grip. Trying to ground you.

★ On the outside he looks calm. Internally, Wally is panicking. Trying to think of something that would scare you so much. He wants to ask what happened. He wants to fix this. But he doesn't know what words to say. So he says nothing.

#welcome home #welcome home x reader #welcome home headcanon #welcome home x you #sally starlet #sally starlet x you #sally starlet headcanon #sally starlet headcanons #wally darling #wally darling x reader #wally darling fanfic #wally darling x you #wally darling headcanon #wally darling x y/n #welcome home fanfiction

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 days ago

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He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Ten

Summary: Meeting his family is something you're not sure you should've agreed to...but there's no turning back now. Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 1.8k~ (I'm sorry it's so short but it felt like a good place to stop) a/n: It's been way too long since I last updated this and I know the update is short but I feel like if I held onto this for any longer it would've take me forever to finish the rest of it but I hope you enjoy! Start from the beginning

The ride over to Jungkook's house is quiet, some might say silent, the only noise being the soft hum of the engine and the various sounds of cars passing by.

"I hope you know they're going to love you" Jungkook whispers once our eta hits about ten minutes out, giving me a last second pep talk.

"What if they don't?" I mumble, my hands fisting the hem of my sweater, the turtle neck seeming so much tighter than it usually is, making me tug on the collar. Nervous fidgeting something I've been plagued with since I was a child.

An unfortunately it seems like that's not about to change anytime soon.

He startles me when he places his hand over mine, slipping it under where my grip on the sweater is practically iron. I loosen up for him just enough to let his fingers lace through mine, bringing it up to his lips and placing a kiss on the back of my hand.

"You'll do great, and you can use me as a human shield if you need to. Although my sister will probably end up wiggling her way between us" he chuckles, imagining the scene now.

"You still haven't told me much about them" I point out and he hums.

"My sister Jieun is six, my brother Jiwon is ten and then my oldest younger brother is Junseo who's twelve" he lists off as if they were a shopping list.

"Okay well that doesn't tell me much about them" I chuckle and he shrugs. "You'll learn more when we get there" he smiles softly at the thought of me meeting his family.

I sigh and close my eyes, quietly saying his siblings names under my breath so I can memorize them. He notices but doesn't say anything, placing another kiss on the back of my hand before letting go, opening the garage door so we can pull in.

He comes around to open my door for me and before I'm even able to get out the door to the garage flies open and Jieun runs out to greet us.

"Jungkook Jungkook you took forever! Can you please help me make cookies tonight. Please? Mom bought the ingredients for them but she didn't have time to make them" she pouts once she gets to the end of the message that she's clearly been dying to say to him all day.

"Oh" she says softly when she notices me, hiding behind Jungkook and peeking out from behind him, holding onto his shirt making me smile.

"Sorry, she's a little shy" he chuckles bringing her out from behind him and crouching down to talk to her, her eyes still a little wary of me. "This is y/n, can you say hi?" he says, the soft tone he uses with her makes my heart flutter.

"Um, hi" she says, her loud and excitable behavior from when she first came out a distant memory. "Hi Jieun, it's nice to meet you" I say softly and her eyes light up a bit, surprised to see I already know her name.

"Let's go inside so she can meet everyone" Jungkook says softly still and she nods, taking Jungkook's hand, with him instinctively reaching for mine which I take, my heart beating a million miles a minute. One down, three to go.

Once we enter we're met with a clean simple house, the low hum of the tv with Jiwon sitting in front of it soon catches my eye.

"We're home" Jungkook calls out, immediately alerting everyone that he hasn't come home on his own making Jiwon's head turn. His eyes land on me first and then on Jungkook, then to our interlocked hands and he jumps up, making a bee line for the hallway.

"Hey!" Jungkook calls out to him, but I chuckle and place a hand on his arm. "It's okay, kids get nervous around people they don't know". Despite my reassurance Jungkook still spares a glare down the hallway before turning back to Jieun.

"Where's mom?" he asks but she shrugs, "I dunno, maybe in her room? I'll go check!" she says and scurries down the same hallway her brother had disappeared down.

"They look just like you" I smile, watching her disappear as well, my focus soon going back to him. "You should see Junseo, he's practically a carbon copy of me" he says, leading me over to the kitchen. "Well except for the fact that the kid is a wiz. Always in his room studying or reading. He's a freshman in high school already so he's got a lot of homework these days" he says and I pause at that.

"You said he was only twelve though. Did he skip two grades or something?" I ask, my eyes gone wide at the thought of it. "Yeah, they let him skip third and fourth grade, figured they wouldn't be challenging enough for him" he smiles to himself, clearly proud of his little brother.

"Did you want something to drink?" he asks, grabbing a cup from the cabinet leaving me just requesting water and thanking him softly once he's handed it to me.

"Come on! You have to see her! She's so pretty" I hear Jiwon's voice making me chuckle, already taking a shine to him. "I don't care about some girl. I need to finish my homework" what I assume is Junseo's voice following.

"Hey" Jungkook says, his voice a lot sharper with the boys, making them freeze when they come into view, both of their eyes wide, going between Jungkook and I.

I watch as a rosy blush blooms on their ears in embarrassment.

"Junseo come here" Jungkooks says, that sharp tone still present leaving Junseo's eyes turning down as he comes closer. "She's not just some girl. She is very important to me so I expect you to be respectful. Got it?" he scolds and Junseo nods, bowing to me slightly and mumbling an apology.

"It's okay Junseo, you can go finish studying" I say and his head pops up, the blush now reaching his cheeks after hearing me speak to him. "Thank you" he says quickly, his voice cracking slightly leaving his eyes widening again, turning around and practically running back to his room.

"That's funny, I've never seen him act like that before" Jungkook hums and I chuckle. "He really is your 'mini me'" I agree with his earlier statement and he frowns. "Come on, I have a lot more game than he does" he scoffs and I nod.

"Yeah, but seems like you both have the same taste in older women" I say making him choke on air. His coughs make me chuckle, giving him the glass he had gotten me and rubbing his back while he drinks the water.

"I see that you're already making a fool of yourself in front of her" I hear an amused voice say behind me. I turn and see a woman with a tight slick back bun and a white pressed uniform, the confident way she carries herself leaving my eyes now the ones widening just a bit.

"Sorry mom" he coughs a few more times and clears his throat. "This is-" "It's so nice to finally meet you" she cuts him off, basically admitting to the fact that he's spoken about me enough for her to know exactly who I am.

"It's nice to meet you too Mrs. Jeon. Thank you for having me, you have a lovely home" I say and she smiles, a glint in her eye now helping me relax.

"Thank you for coming to help with these little rascals. Jungkook looks practically torn to shreds by the time I get home most mornings but hopefully they won't give you too much trouble" she says, smoothing down Jieun's hair after she's stepped out from behind her mom, her posture now a little less wary.

"I'll do my best" I smile leaving her returning it, a little nod showing me that she believes in me.

"You're welcome to stay the night if you'd like. I'm sure Jungkook will be a complete gentleman and sleep on the couch, right?" his mom says, directing her line of sight over to him, clearing his throat and nodding right away.

"And if he doesn't at least make sure what ever's done behind that closed door cannot be heard" she says after covering Jieun's ears leaving Jungkook choking again. "I'll make sure he behaves himself" I say and pat his back again, leaving her smiling.

"I knew I liked you" she chuckles, excusing herself so she can gather all of her things before she goes to work. "Be good for Jungkook and y/n" she calls out to the three and they respond simultaneously with a 'Yes mom' making me smile at the clear routine of theirs.

"Be good" she directs a laser focus on Jungkook, and he nods. "Have a good night at work" he says and she smiles, satisfied with his response.

"Thanks again" she says as her final farewell, this now directed at us both leaving the pair of us waving until she closes the door, Jungkook practically slumping against the counter, the tension he was clearly feeling leaving his body.

"You were more nervous than I was" I laugh, turning to face him and resting against the counter as well, his slumped form now straightening.

"You should've seen the way she's treated my past girlfriends on first meeting" he says, filling the glass he had taken from me with fresh water before handing it back to me. "How many girlfriends have you had?" I ask, taking a sip but keeping my eyes on him.

"Like three, no four or five...ish" he says, rubbing the back of his neck and a deep red blush reaching his cheeks. "You don't have any kids right?" I ask and smile when he gets even more panicked.

"No! No no no absolutely not" he shakes his head over and over. "I promise I really don't. In terms of calling them girlfriends it was always a little unclear. Like we got to the talking stage and then we'd spend some time together but then they'd get upset because I couldn't spend enough time with them and break up with me. Only three of them ended up meeting my family though" he explains and I nod.

"I believe you" I smile, clearly showing I was joking, leaving him letting out a breath. "If I did I would've told you" he says softly and I nod. "I know" I smile again, this one softer, one reserved just for him and I can tell he can see the difference.

I reach up and fix his hair, it having gotten quite ruffled in the process of convincing me his own bloodline so far has begun and ended with him.

He pulls me closer and buries his face in my neck, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

"What's this for?" I ask, holding him close as well. "I'm just really happy they like you" he mumbles just loud enough for me to hear, making me smile. "Me too" I say softly, the picture frame of their family of six behind him catching my eye, the last of which still being a mystery.

"Me too"

prev / next Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater Taglist continued in the comments 💜

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chleem · 13 hours ago

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You’re incredible at writing angst. Can i request something with drew being on the other side of unrequited love

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: OH? u mean, im the one madly in love with HIM? uh, yuh!

⋆.˚ Warnings: mentions of alcohol and smoking

pairings; actor/best friend drew x reader

word count: 2.4k

──── 𝜗𝜚 ─────

He’s standing across the room.

He hasn’t noticed you yet; too busy chatting off with his friends.

And you- well, you notice everything. The way he tilts his head back when he laughs. The nervous way he runs his fingers through his hair when someone gives him a compliment. The damn jacket he always wears, the one that used to hang off your shared dorm chair.

You’d memorize all of it as if it didn’t already live in your bones.

You’re one of his friends too- or at least, you used to be. Back when things were simpler. Before the world knew his name, before the interviews and spotlights that came with his rising career.

You’ve fallen behind. Not out of anger or some dramatic fallout, but just... time, distance.

Now, standing in the corner of a mutual friend’s apartment, you’ve only just realized how full the room is, and yet, Drew is the only one you’ve truly noticed.

And suddenly, you're second-guessing everything.

The outfit you spent too long choosing now feels all wrong- too much or too little, you can’t decide. Your hair feels flat in places it shouldn’t be, your makeup too loud under the golden lights that strung along the ceiling.

You feel overexposed in a room where no one is even looking.

You set your drink down on a side table and quietly slip away from the noise. The hallway is dim, quieter, and you step inside into the bathroom, once you reach it.

You close the door gently, twisting the lock until it clicks.

Then, with a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you lower the toilet seat and sit down, your hands resting in your lap. Your purse sits on the counter, unopened, untouched.

The silence wraps around you like a second skin, and finally, your thoughts catch up to you.

Drew.

Well… at least, that’s how everyone knows him now. To the world, he’s Drew, the rising name in Hollywood. The charming lead in that new movie. The actor everyone’s talking about. The one with the ‘blue eyes’ that gets more press than most people’s careers.

But to you, he’s Joseph.

Joseph, your best friend since you were kids. Joseph, who shared his last granola bar with you in third grade. Who helped you sneak out of class in high school just to watch the sky change color from the football bleachers. Joseph, who sat next to you on the dorm floor your first week of college because you were crying and pretending you weren’t.

Your first crush.

Actually… still your crush, if you’re being honest with yourself. You’ve tried to call it a phase, tried to let it pass. You told yourself you were over it, over him.

But it seems like, you never were.

If anything, the time spent apart just made you fall harder; occasionally scrolling onto his news.

A knock breaks your thoughts.

You blink, “Give me a sec!” you call out.

You stand, smoothing your dress with slightly trembling hands. You check your reflection quickly, fixing your hair.

Then, you unlock the door.

…And it’s him.

Joseph.

Has he grown taller? Maybe. Or maybe it’s just the way he’s standing- so close to the doorway that he’s suddenly right in your space, towering over you. His frame fills the doorway, broad-shouldered and casual in that way only he could ever pull off. His jacket is half-zipped, his hair messier than usual, and those blue eyes shining down at you, mesmerizing and unfamiliar all at once.

Your eyes widen in surprise.

He laughs softly, head tilting. “Hey,” he says, “…did you wash your hands?”

You let out a nervous, breathy laugh, your heart bumping hard against your ribs. “Uh, yeah.”

“Yeah? Okay,” he laughs, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening with the smile.

You’re rooted in place, caught between wanting to run and wanting to stay.

Then, quietly, he confesses, “I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

“…yes.”

“Looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, I was just- ”

“I was looking for you,” he repeats, cutting you off.

He bites down on his lower lip, hesitation flickering across his face before his hand reaches out and rests gently on your elbow.

He signals for you to back up into the bathroom again. You obey, stepping inside until the door closes softly behind you.

He’s in this small space with you now, not even breaking eye contact as he locks the door.

“Needed a break anyway…” he murmurs under his breath, glancing around. You wrap your arms around yourself, a small, protective gesture. “Hey, you.”

It’s awkward in a way that feels familiar, almost comforting.

“Hi,” you say, offering a soft smile, hoping the blush warming your cheeks isn’t too obvious under the overhead light.

The whole bathroom smells like him now- like his cologne, subtle and expensive and painfully nostalgic. Along with the beers he might’ve been drinking.

“You look great,” he says, eyes scanning your face with a kind of quiet sincerity that makes it hard to breathe.

“You don’t look so bad either,” you tease, trying for lightness, though you’re not sure if that’s still how he likes to play.

But he lets out a breathy laugh. The kind you remember, the kind you’ve missed.

“So, how’ve you been?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

You shrug slightly. “Just…still me.”

He nods slowly, “Great. Great to hear that.”

“What about you?”

“Same old.”

You giggle, “no.”

“No?”

“C’mon, I’ve seen your posters everywhere.”

He laughs, leaning back against the bathroom counter, “Yeah? Which ones?”

“Oh, the ones where you’re in bed with Daniel Craig, I guess.”

“Jealous?”

“Not at all,” you lie.

He laughs, deep-throated and low, the sound filling the tiny bathroom and cutting through the faint noise of music and conversation spilling in from the hallway.

“You got a cig?”

“…You smoke now?” you blink.

“Occasionally,”

“…No. I quit,” you murmur, stepping closer. You set your purse gently on the counter next to him. “But I’ve got one in here.”

He lets out a low chuckle, “that means you didn’t quit.”

“Shut up, Joseph,” you say with a smile, pulling out the pack of cigarettes from your purse, holding it out to him. He reaches for it. You pull it back, just out of his grasp. “Or should I call you Drew now?”

His blue eyes fix on yours, intense and unreadable.

“Everyone does,” then, without breaking eye contact, he takes the pack from your hand. “But you shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I like the way you say it.”

You let out a soft, surprised giggle, “what?”

He gently taps your arm, and you reach for the lighter inside your bag, fingers brushing against it, eyes never leaving his.

“Just don’t call me Drew,” he murmurs, pulling a cigarette from the pack and slipping it between his lips.

He cups one hand around the tip, nodding once. You flick the lighter on, and as the flame dances between you, your hand steadies just under his.

The cigarette lights, and he tilts his head back as he inhales. Great. Now it smells like cigarettes and Drew in here. You draw your hand away, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, starting up another conversation.

"So... you still with her?”

“'Her?'"

"Last time we talked- you were seeing someone.”

"Oh," he exhaled already; taking another puff. "No. We split.”

He says it so simply, like it wasn’t a slow-burning thing. like you hadn’t seen the way she used to look at him, like he hung constellations in her ceiling. Like he hadn’t once told you she made him want to be softer.

You nod, mostly to yourself.

“Sorry,” you say, even though you’re not sure you mean it.

He shrugs. “it was coming.”

Silence folds in between the two of you. The smoke coils lazily upward, staining the yellowed light. You don’t remember when it got so dim in here.

He glances over at you. “What- what about you?”

You wonder if his blue eyes can see right through you- if he knows. You’ve had a crush on him for so long, it’s practically carved into you.

“Huh?”

“C’mon,” he says, almost teasing, “you have a boyfriend.”

You shake your head, “No. No one.”

“...still?”

You roll your eyes, but a smile betrays you. It tugs at the corner of your mouth, uninvited and unstoppable, especially when Drew laughs. That sound, familiar and careless- fills the room in a way that makes your chest tighten and your heart race.

It hits somewhere deep, nostalgic and warm, like hearing a song you didn’t realize you missed. His laughter hasn’t changed; it still makes you feel seventeen again, and completely out of your depth.

When the moment fades, he turns toward you slightly and holds out the cigarette.

Smoke curls upward between you as he says, “do it with me.”

You hesitate, “I quit, Joseph-”

“Have a breath,” he urges, a crooked smile playing at his lips. “I missed this.”

“We’ve never even smoked together-”

“I don’t mean the cigarette. I mean... this, talking to you, seeing you. Just... being in a space with you.”

He shifts, leaning in just enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him.

He’s close now, closer than he’s been in years, maybe. Close enough that it’s suddenly hard to focus on anything but the way he says your name, or the quiet guilt in his eyes when he adds, “I’m sorry I got busy.”

He holds out the cigarette again, “so here. Smoke, and do this stupid thing with me.”

You can’t help but smile, shaking your head as you reach for it.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” you murmur, bringing the cigarette to your lips.

You try not to concentrate on the fact that his mouth was just on it. But of course you do. Which means, in some ridiculous, secondhand kind of way… you’ve technically kissed. That thought alone sends a warm pulse down your spine.

You're such a loser for still liking him.

You inhale, the smoke burning lightly in your throat, and exhale with practiced ease.

“You always do,” you add, the words trailing out with the smoke as you speak.

“Me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. Remember in- ”

“I got you in trouble?”

“Freshman year. In the library?”

He pauses. “…that was your idea.”

You laugh softly, “Only because you told me to do it.”

“Oh, right. And our punishment was not seeing each other for a week? Including-”

“Including school,” you finish quietly, your voice a soft echo of the memory.

Younger you would be shocked that you managed to stay out-of-contact with Drew for several months; let alone one month.

You bring the cigarette back to your lips, breathing in without really thinking, letting the smoke linger as you glance at him.

You catch the way his throat tightens when he watches you. Then he looks down at the floor, fidgeting with his fingers in that way he always did when he was nervous or holding something in.

“Well,” he says finally, “I missed you, y/n.”

It’s not playful now. Not casual or joking. It’s sincere- quietly, achingly sincere.

And because it doesn’t feel right to say it too loudly, you whisper it back; “I missed you too, Joseph.”

He nods, still staring at the floor.

“I love you, Joseph,” you add.

You don’t know why, but the flood of emotions rushes in all at once- fear, hope, longing. You’re afraid you might never get the courage to say these words again. Or maybe never at all, if he becomes too famous, too distant for you to reach.

But it’s the truth. You love him- with all your heart. You hope these words will reach out and touch something deep inside him.

You want to be more than the friend who’s seen him through his worst nights. You want to be the one who stays. The one who sees him now; not just the past, not the one left behind.

You want to be his lover.

“I love you too, y/n,”

he says softly, his voice warm but carrying a different weight.

Before you can react, he pulls you into a hug. You find yourself pressed close between his legs as he leans against the bathroom counter, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist.

Your eyes widen as you lift your arms cautiously, careful not to burn him with the cigarette still in your hand. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, and despite everything- the distance, the unspoken things- you can’t help but grow comfortable under him.

“I love you more, Joseph,”

you whisper, so quiet you’re not sure he even hears.

Just before he pulls away, he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, leaving a faint, warm stain, like a secret blush meant only for you.

Without hesitation, he lifts the cigarette from your fingers and brings it to his lips once more. Another quiet, shared kiss- this one burning faintly between you.

“Alright- you’ll call me?”

“...will you pick up?”

He puts the cigarette out, flicking it on the floor and stepping on it. “Of course.”

He bends to pick up the unlit cigarette, tossing it casually into the trashcan. He stands and steadies himself, briefly touching your elbow. “You… you still got my number saved?”

“...Of course,”

“Okay,” he smiles down at you. “I saw that, um, the kitchen has some snacks-”

“…okay.”

“…okay. uh… hey, here,” he murmurs, nodding toward the inside pocket of his jacket. “Just, put your hand here.”

You blink at him, confused.

“So I don’t lose you out there,” he says, and you can hear it in the smirk tugging at his words.

You shake your head, suppressing a smile, and reach for your purse instead, as he unlocks the door.

You leave the bathroom together.

But just then, a friend spots him from across the room and weaves through the small group, eager to pull him into conversation. Another follows, then a few more, all wanting a moment with him- the Drew they know, the Drew everyone admires.

They crowd around him quickly, voices overlapping, laughter rising, and suddenly you’re on the outside again. Close enough to hear his voice, to see his smile, but too far to reach the part of him you need.

Your chest tightens with a love so fierce it almost hurts. You love him more than words could hold, more than you’ve ever dared admit.

You want to tell him, to make him see, but the words stay locked inside, swallowed by the noise and the distance growing between you. And as he gets pulled away, surrounded by friends, you’re left with nothing but the ache of loving someone who might never love you back the same way.

And just like that, he’s surrounded.

You stand there, close, but still so far.

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

stop i actually got sad writing this

elevator | other

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #inbox #request

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verycoolusername1 · 3 days ago

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Draft Day

Summary: You were there for your boyfriend to get drafted, and now it was your turn.

Michael Kesslering x pwhl!reader

Warning! Reader is described to be wearing a suit but other than that, it's gender neutral.

A/N: did I just make this after I saw Ella Huber was drafted and (Matthew)Knies was there for her? Yes, yes I did. (Ironically the pwhl draft is how I found out they were dating cause I recognized her(so pretty how did Knies bag her) she's going to Boston!)

And do not worry, reader is not going to Minnesota(sorry to all the frost fans but they have that one girl on there. I cannot stand her, I do love Maddie Rooney though)

And lowkey I was gonna make some utah players to show up(like Kells and Marino) but in the end it just didn't make sense to me but rest assured. They will be there at the after party or whatever. And I didn't really flat out mention it but you and Michael are high school sweethearts? Idk I just thought it made sense since I mentioned that reader was there for his draft. And I just have no idea if he went to college... but rest assured reader did! I chose Penn State cause it was dream college of mine(before I decided to stay in state)

You were nervous, really nervous. You were sure you were going to combust and explode.

Today was the day of the PWHL Draft, today you were going to get drafted to one of eight teams.

You were sitting in your seat, tapping your knee in a rhythmic pattern with your hand(you only did that when you're nervous).

You arrived with your family and your boyfriend Michael, they were extremely happy for you.

Michael noticed your state and took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. He looked at you like he always did, with a twinkle in his eyes.

He leaned in and whispered to you. "You're gonna do great."

"You don't know that." You mutter. "I might trip over my shoes when I go up there."

Michael grinned as he held back his laugh. "Well you'd still look amazing as ever, even if you have dirt in your mouth after you trip."

You scoffed at that. "You're an idiot." You tried to hide your smile.

"An idiot that just made you smile." Michael poked your side with a chuckle.

You fidgeting with your suit jacket and let out a shaky exhale. "I'm nervous."

Michael nodded. "Of course you are, you're getting drafted today. It would be totally freaky if you weren't."

You looked over at him. "Why do you have to be so... you?"

"I don't know, I don't really know how to be anybody else." Michael gave you a lopsided grin.

Your expression soften at his words. "Good. Don't change." You nodded.

Your dad noticed the interaction and looked on with a soft look.

"How you feeling kiddo?"

You looked back at your dad. "Like I'm about to throw up."

Your mom laughed. "You're gonna be fine sweetie."

Michael nodded. "You're gonna be fine, dirt in your mouth and all."

You chuckled. "Stop that."

"Speak of the devil, more trouble has just arrived." Your dad gave Michael a knowing look.

"What was that?" You looked between your dad and Michael.

He grinned. "Nothing... just couldn't let you get drafted without our cats."

You looked at Michael as you realized. "Right of course. Our cats."

"Hey, Y/N!" Logan called out, Josh has already ran to you and smothered you into a hug.

"Hey," You mumbled. "Hi to you too Josh."

Josh smiled brightly at you. "You're gonna do great."

"That's what we keep telling them, they just won't listen." Your mom piped up.

"Well it's true. You won't mess anything up because we know you. You hate making mistakes, and I mean absolutely hates it, babe." Michael gave you a look before checking his watch. "We should get seated now, it's about to start."

All of you got seated to your seats. You in the middle of your parents, behind you Logan, Josh, with Micheal on the end.

The draft started several minutes later, your nervousness settled down slightly as you felt Michael's hand on the back of your chair.

It was the end of the first round and Seattle was about to announce their pick.

"With the 8th pick in the 1st round. Seattle selects from Penn State University, defender Y/N L/N."

You swore you felt your heart stop, you could barely register anything before your parents pulled you into a hug(and of course, the boys cheering).

You hugged Logan and Josh, each of them muttering a congratulations and plans to visit when they can during the season.

Michael hugged you tight and kissed your temple. "I love you so much. So proud of you."

He mumbled as he pulled away but not before kissing your temple again, his eyes glistening in the light.

You walked down to the stage, took your draft photo and shook hands with all the staff on Seattle.

You walked down the stairs for your interview.

"Y/N, first of all I just want to congratulations on getting drafted to Seattle." Rob told you. "How does it feel?"

You nodded and chuckled. "It feels amazing, thank you. I'm so excited to get to work down there, it just feels so surreal."

"Yeah it can feel like that sometimes but I'm sure you'll do great." Rob chuckled. "I uh couldn't help but notice, you have the quite the support tonight. How does it feel knowing they came here for you, to watch you follow through with your hockey dream?"

"Oh um yeah, you know it's nice to have their support. My parents, they did almost everything for me so they're probably happy they don't have to buy me another stick." You laughed.

"And my friends, boyfriend. Yeah, it's really nice that they're here too. Means a lot to me. During the off season, I would always make Kess, my boyfriend play against me. Since we're both defenders, we normally just share techniques and such."

"That's really sweet." Rob nodded. "Any players you're excited to see at development camp? What are you really looking for in Seattle?"

"I'm really excited to see Hilary Knight, she's really inspiring and now to be teammates with her is just so amazing." You gushed. "Cayla Barnes as well, terrific defender, would love to see her in action beside me on the ice."

Rob spoke again. "Really good answers. Thank you and once again, congratulations."

You nodded. "Thank you." You headed back to your seat.

You couldn't resist the smile on your face as you made you way back.

Michael was the first one to wrap his arms around you, he picked you up and spun you around. "My baby's going to Seattle!"

You chuckled in his arms. "I'm so excited."

Logan smiled. "You're gonna do amazing there, just don't do amazing or you'll take his job." Josh not so subtlety pointed at Michael.

Michael rolled his eyes and put you back on the ground. "If they really wanted to, they would have done it by now." He slung his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip.

You nodded in agreement. "That's true."

Your mom piped and kissed your cheek. "I'm just so happy for you."

Your dad nodded. "Yeah, you're gonna do amazing in Seattle."

You look over at your parents. "I'm gonna miss you guys."

Your mom nodded. "We know, we'll miss you too. You're still our little kid."

"But rest assured, we will be there for your debut kiddo." Your dad ruffled your hair.

"Just don't get into any fights." Josh said. "Kess is already a bad influence on you as it is."

You nodded, knowing well enough that you couldn't attempt to do what Josh wanted even if you tried.

Michael gave Josh a look. "You clearly haven't seen Y/N in college dude."

Couple of hours later, you find yourself curled into Michael's side in bed of your hotel room. Waiting for sleep to catch up to the both of you.

"So, you're going to Seattle." He whispered. "Still can't believe it, you're gonna be so far." He traces his finger on your hip.

"Not that far." You whispered back. "We'll be a couple of hours away."

"I know," Michael mumbled as he looked down at you. "This just feels worse. Now you're going pro and I'll barely be able to see it like you did for mine." He held you tighter.

"It's gonna be okay, Kess." You told him. "We each have our jobs to do that require distance."

Michael stayed silent for a moment before speaking again. "I just don't want you to leave me." His voice grew quieter.

"I'm not going anywhere, no one and I mean no one can replace you. You're my freakish weirdly tall germlin of a boyfriend."

Michael let out a shaky laugh at your words.

"Thanks... for reassuring me."

"Of course, you know I love you." You kissed his chest.

Michael smiled softly. "I love you too. Now we should be going to bed, you know how grumpy you get in the morning."

"I don't get grumpy." You mutter.

"You do." Michael retorted. "Now goodnight."

"Yeah, goodnight." You grumbled, Michael kissed your head.

#verycoolusername1 #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #nhl players #michael kesselring fluff #michael kesselring imagine #michael kesselring x reader #michael kesselring #mk7 #utah mammoth #utah hc #utah hockey club #utah mammoth imagine #clayton keller #logan cooley #josh doan #john marino #dylan guenther

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pineconepie · 17 hours ago

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CHARACTERS: Octavian, fem!Reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: Fem reader, mentioned she/her pronouns to reader, reader gets period/menstrual cycle, embarrassment, implied younger reader, blood (non-injury), hurt/comfort, slight infantilization

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was another commission! I've been on testosterone for a while that I forgot what having my period feels like, I felt almost like a confused cis man writing this LOL. There will be one for Vincent coming soon too!

You try to not freak out, but it's hard not to when you see the blood staining your undergarments when changing. You know what's going on, but it doesn't change anything by much. You feel gross, disgusted, angry, all sorts of emotions. Above everything, though, you feel embarrassed. Your stomach hurts so bad that you just want to crawl up in a ball and die.

There's a soft knock on the door, making you jump.

"(Y/n)?" he gently asks. "Are you okay in there? You've been in there for a while." His voice is soft as always, but also clearly worried.

"I'm fine!" you yelp. You cringe at how high-pitched your voice sounded. "I'll be out in a sec. Sorry." You squirt some soap on your hands to hopefully get rid of the smell of blood.

He takes a moment to respond. You can tell he's thinking.

"You don't sound fine," he murmurs. "Sweetheart, if there's something wrong, you know you can tell me."

The gentleness of his tone makes you feel guilty. "I'm okay, Papa, I promise."

He lingers at the door a few seconds longer, before finally sighing. "Alright. Well, come down soon. Breakfast is ready." The floorboards creak under him as he leaves you alone, but you notice he takes his time leaving, as if expecting you to change your mind.

You sigh heavily once he's gone, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

To avoid his enhanced sense of smell, you spray some of his perfume on yourself. It smells like cashmere and lavender.

After that, you cautiously make your way downstairs to where breakfast is waiting. As you step down from the stairs and enter the dining area, you see Octavian has pulled out your chair for you. He gently gestures with one hand for you to sit.

You smile shakily at him.

"There she is," he greets warmly, pressing a kiss to your temple once you sit. "Good morning."

"Mornin'," you mumble, face going hot. You don't really have an appetite with how bad your stomach feels right now, so you poke at your food rather than eat it.

He's still standing behind you. You can practically feel his eyes watching you with a worried intensity.

When you continue not to speak, he sighs.

"...what's wrong?"

You freeze, looking everywhere but at him nervously. He sees that. "Nothing."

"Are you sure?" he presses. His gaze burns into your skull. It's almost worse than if he were angry. You can tell just how concerned he is, and it just makes you feel even more awful.

"I have a stomach ache," you mutter. It isn't technically a lie. It does hurt. A lot.

His expression softens and he clicks his tongue in sympathy. He rests a cool palm on the small of your back. "Aw, darling... why didn't you say so sooner? I can make something much easier for that tummy ache of yours. How does soup sound, hmm?"

It's embarrassing being treated like such a baby in front of him, but his obvious attempts to console you are sweet nonetheless.

"I'm okay," you mutter. "I think I'm just... tired. I'm gonna go lay down." You just want to suffer with your cramps alone.

Octavian's brows furrow, and his expression falls slightly. "I can give you something for the pain, at least..." he murmurs. There's an uncharacteristic hint of desperation to his tone.

He doesn't want to let you out of his sight, it seems. That's usual behavior for him, but now it seems less out of pure lonely clinginess, and more out of fear. As if you're covered in injuries, and not just having bad cramps.

"Sure," you agree, hoping maybe that'll get him off your case.

He smiles, though his brows remain upturned with worry. "I'll be right back."

It doesn't take long for him to come back with medicine and tea. You manage to force both down despite the growing nausea accompanying the ache in your gut.

He keeps trying to press for answers, asking if you're sick. He asks multiple times what's wrong and seems nearly frantic. He goes so far as to put his hand against your forehead, checking if you have a fever. You do, which isn't helping. All you know is that you feel gross and terrible and just want to curl up in bed with your blanket.

"It's just a small stomach ache, Papa," you mutter. "I'm fine, I promise. You can leave me alone now..."

Octavian hesitates, then nods. "Okay... but if you need absolutely anything—anything—you'll call for me. Right?"

"Yes," you nod. "Of course."

Your words seem to reassure him at least partially, because he leans forward and kisses your hair before letting you be alone. "I love you. I'll either be in the kitchen or living room if you need me. Or just shout."

"I love you too," you murmur, and retreat upstairs to your bedroom.

...

A few hours pass, and you do end up falling asleep, the medicine not giving you much relief.

When you wake up, there's fresh blood on your sheets. Tears run down your face and you want to scream in pain and frustration, but you force yourself not to.

You scramble out of your bed, staring at the red spot on your bed sheets. There's no way Octavian won't notice this. No chance. Oh, god. You hate the idea of him knowing. The very idea makes you feel gross and humiliated, not to mention terrified.

Maybe you should just tell him and get it over with. Or maybe you should try hiding it from him instead. You don't want him to look at you differently.

There's a knock on your door. "(Y/n), sweetheart? I know you said you weren't hungry, but I made soup. May I come in?"

You panic when you hear his voice, trying to frantically hide your sheets. Unfortunately, the task is hard to accomplish without getting more blood everywhere and making more messes. A tiny bit gets on your hands and it makes your lip wobble with humiliation.

"No!" you cry out through tears. You internally curse; great, now he definitely knows something is wrong.

Octavian, despite having the utmost respect for privacy most of the time, bursts open the door in a panic.

You immediately turn around so you face away from him, frantically hiding your stained bedsheets behind you. It's futile.

He stares at you, seemingly baffled by your behavior. "Sweetheart, what's going on? Talk to me, please, you're scaring me." He pauses, taking in your shaking figure. "Why are you crying?" He looks ready to cry himself, which only increases tenfold when he smells it. His brow furrows and his gaze darkens. "...no."

"Wait, Papa, its not what you think, I—" you start, but he's already frantically searching you for injuries.

Octavian's eyes are wider than you've ever seen them as they scan you all over, hands gripping your shoulders tightly.

His look of panic somehow increases when he sees the blood on the sheets you're holding behind your back. "Oh my God," he whispers. His hands slide from your shoulders to cradle your face. He holds you in place and tilts your head from side to side, examining you closer. He's clearly looking for injuries.

Given that you're a vampire like him, you find it a bit more ridiculous that he's reacting in such a way.

Before he can have a full blown panic attack, you speak.

"Papa, it's just my period," you rasp. Your voice is scratchy from sleep and crying. "That's what's been wrong this morning. I... got it for the first time today."

Relief floods over him. The color slowly returns to his face and he relaxes entirely, nearly collapsing on you in his weak state of reprieve.

He holds you close to his chest, a soft sigh escaping him.

"I thought you were dying," he murmurs hoarsely.

"I can't, actually. Kind of part of the whole immortality thing," you awkwardly remind him.

He swallows thickly. "I suppose it's just instinct to fear the worst." He gently pulls away from the embrace and presses a kiss to your hair. You think you feel a tear fall onto your head. "Oh, my sweet girl. Why on earth didn't you tell me about this?"

"Umm, 'cause it was embarrassing?" you mutter.

"Embarrassing?" he repeats dumbfoundedly. "Now why would you think that?"

You fidget. "Well... because..."

He sighs after you trail off. "Well, I have not the slightest clue why you'd be embarrassed about something like this, but I'm just relieved. Is that why you were wearing my perfume earlier?"

"You noticed?" you squeak, feeling even more flustered.

"Of course I did. I thought about pointing it out, but I know you; I didn't want you thinking I was upset about it." He gently squeezes your hand. "Regardless. Come along, sweetheart, I think bathtime is in order. After that, I'll go into the town and get you some proper supplies, okay? Oh, and I'll wash your sheets and clothes."

You smile shakily. "Thanks for not being awkward about it."

"Nonsense, little love," he coos. "This is nothing to be awkward over. If I weren't still basking in relief that you aren't injured, I might be offended you think so little of me." A chuckle leaves his lips. "After we have everything taken care of, how about some cuddles with Papa by the fireplace? Tea, too."

"I'd love that," you murmur.

#parental yandere #octavian oc #familial yandere #fem reader #female reader #commission

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theotherrookie · 2 days ago

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"I sure hope so. Things start going bad when we don't care anymore what happens to children."

"It must be quite interesting whenever you and the rest of your brothers meet up. With such a wide array of professions, you may never be at risk of running out of conversation topics." Willow chimed in. It was a touchy matter for Erica and she didn't want her to upset herself with the current topic too much.

"We have to take turns and there's just four of us!" The trick had worked perfectly. "Well, I didn't feel much pain as a zombie, but elves like me are just born with a hollow back. I don't know what it was for, it didn't really do anything. So I let Willow get rid of it."

"It was merely an aesthetic change that didn't interfere with Erica's magical affinity, as we have now confirmed."

"Yeah, it's no big deal." Erica reassured, "But I guess that's why we didn't know about it. I'm glad Rook met Russell, though. We wouldn't know all of you guys if she hadn't!"

"And for that, we're both thankful."

Erica nodded fiercely at Willow's words, before looking ahead. "I think I've seen this part of the city before."

Right on cue, Willow started giving out directions.

"I had to do it for my own peace of mind. Imagine dropping anything in here. The noise will bounce back and forth for days." Rook said, before eyeing Antonio, "And I had to think of my guests. After all, if you're too sassy while in the void, the void will eventually sass you back."

Luckily, there weren't signs so far of the pocket having any level of awareness. Perhaps its artificial nature meant it'd never fully go beyond reacting to the presence of those tied to it.

"Oh, I really panicked at first." Rook admitted, "Because I kinda sneaked in to see where mum was going and I got left behind. But then I just got bored of the panic and started poking around again. I guess it's just the effect this place has on you after you've been here for a while."

It did help that after a while it occurred to her she wasn't feeling hungry or tired. Not being directly affected by the passing of time while being in that glorified broom closet took part of the urgency away.

"Alchemy and herbalism are different disciplines. The ability to directly control the temperature and intensity of our fire is however a major advantage." Veronica replied, "I wouldn't mind sharing some of my knowledge on the subject. It can be very useful at times."

It wasn't just good for creating huge piles of precious items they could treat like Lego, after all. Rook was glad to see her gift was being appreciated.

"Anything for my big bro. But that coin you picked," She paused to point at it, "that's a lucky one."

She proceeded to pass more pouches around, even holding one up so it could be stored in the drone for the time being. They'd figure out a way to get it over to Simon's place later.

"Thanks, Leofric." She offered a second bag, "I can't wait to see what he'll make with these. It seems like he really likes smithing."

"I'm no expert, but I'll do my best with it." Lucien said, standing up, "Russell deserves to have something that shines at least half as much as him."

Rook rolled her eyes, "You guys are so mushy. I bet it's all those sweets you two eat."

Still, she was very happy for what Russell and Lucien had going for themselves. It was clear it made both happy and that was all that mattered.

"Well, let's catch up with Bill. He should be almost at the exit by now."

"They never do. I don't get why adults are like that with kids." Erica grumbled, "Well, that served him right. He should be thankful he can still see other people holding mops or anything else. I used to scratch those who picked on isolated survivors."

She tried liking everybody, but she simply couldn't stomach bullies. They should be better people if they didn't want their butts kicked.

"Oh, I just dress comfy for myself and for Smokey. He used to sleep in the hole on my back, but I don't have it anymore. So we need pockets now." Erica explained, "Oh, I see! Russell always gets in trouble, uh? But I'm glad he's going to be okay."

She scratched at the tip of her ear as she tried to recall anything about the accident Travis had mentioned. "Hey, Willow, how long have we known Russell?"

Willow, of course, provided an answer without hesitation. "Rook met Russell about six years ago. However, the accident in question was never mentioned to me, which might imply she isn't aware of that particular misadventure. It isn't the sort of topic one would so casually discuss with a person they only recently met."

Rook would have definitely brought it up at some point. The topic of Russell's ability to get in dangerous situations and narrowly escaping it had been discussed often over the years and neither had been able to provide an explanation on how he managed to do that.

"And I met him later because I was still figuring stuff out after Willow found a way to reverse my zombieness."

"We were all very busy at the time." Willow said, leaning back, "To think I was only two years old then. Time really does fly outside the matrix."

"You know, we could watch that show together." Erica offered, "It'd be the first time for me!"

Rook stopped to look around while the pocket kept shifting to create a suitable way out of there.

"That would become unbearable quickly. The first thing I did when I learned there was a way to interact with this place was removing the echo." Rook said, "I really didn't have a great time the first time I got stuck in here. It took mum half a day to notice I was missing."

"I only had control over a limited portion of this place. Chick had to keep busy rearranging all my supplies." Veronica added.

But of course, everything had changed when Rook had retrieved one of their lost books from the clutches of the Brotherhood. They finally had access to a powerful tool that made their activities far easier and were a bit closer to unlocking other hunting techniques previously lost to time.

The last few blocks fell into place just as Bill was sent off to enjoy the panoramic view. Veronica figured she would make herself useful while they waited for Rook to tend to her business and shifted her focus to keeping their surroundings stable while they lingered there.

"Alchemy has always been one of our strongest suit. I dare say Erika has a natural talent for it." Veronica said, pride evident in her tone.

Rook wasn't feeling particularly proud of herself, but still managed a small nod. "I'm alright. I see you guys found my pile of gold without the rainbow. Do you want some?"

The coin shined and felt like the real deal. It was made of gold of the highest quality and with both sides decorated with a crude rendition of a bird's foot.

Rook went ahead and dug up a candy scoop she then used to fill a small bag with coins under Lucien's very intrigued gaze. She closed the bag by pulling the strings at the sides, then offered it to Antonio.

"I've got plenty to spare. I really don't mind."

"The one he picked might be worth more than the entire pile, dear."

"Let me splurge, mum. I'm trying to ignore my feelings right now."

Unable to resist to the shiny himself, Lucien quietly took the scoop from her and started filling another bag for himself.

"Oh, please, don't make compliments." Rook said, nudging him with her boot.

"Get off my back. I can make a lovely pendant for Russell with these." The half fae hastily pushed back with his arm, before scooping up a few more coins.

#pushspacetocontinue #scholar of flames - Rook #cyber core - Willow #elf in training - Erica #hunter hunter - Lucien #ardens medica - Veronica

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radiohao · 3 days ago

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why are men so annoying? + nct wish

sypnosis: arguing w nct wish (hyung line)

pairings: nct wish hyung line x gn!reader

genre: kinda angst, comfort, fluff, some crack, non!idol nct wish, uni!au

warnings: fighting (not physical), lowercase intended, not proofread, first time writing angst, pinching riku, reader is petty but for good reason

wc: 2.9k (my longest fic yet!!)

—

oh sion

your boyfriend is someone that is very lighthearted and fun-loving. he makes your rainy days sunny again and is the life of the party. you never thought there'd be a day where you'd find his lack of seriousness a bother to you. but like anything in life, too much of a good thing can easily become a bad thing. as time went by in your relationship, you, like anyone else, starting thinking more about the future — getting married, having kids, and buying a house together are things you wanted with sion. but the two of you tended to live more in the moment instead of constantly wondering what the future holds. it was only when you were nearing the end of your university schooling that you started to question sion regarding future endeavors, especially like getting married or buying a house together. you wanted to settle down, spend your forever with him.

but it seemed that whenever you brought it up, your boyfriend would change the topic or make it seem less serious than you thought it to be. the first few times you brushed it off, but the more he pushed it aside, the more it irritated you, to the point where you starting doubting sion's love for you, thinking he didn't want you for the long-run.

it all blew up one day when you went out with your parents for their anniversary dinner. it was just a family thing, so sion didn't tag along. "honey, when are you and sion getting married?" your mother had asked. you didn't respond, couldn't respond. all you managed to blurt out was, "i'm not sure yet, mom. we're still kinda young, you know?" she nodded understandingly and chuckled. "i suppose you're right. but you're going to graduate from university soon, and you can't live in the dorms forever. no pressure, sweetie. just something to think about."

her words had you thinking about marriage with sion up until the following day when you decided to relax at his dorm. both you and sion sat on the couch, cuddling as you watch your favorite tv show.

"sion?"

"hm? yes, baby?" he turned to look at you.

"when are we gonna get married?" you ask him. "we've been dating for a while now." sion's breath hitches at your question, and he scoffs before planting a kiss to your forehead. "let's not think about that right now baby, it's not what's important at the moment." your brows furrow in frustration, and you take a breath before speaking back.

"it is important. babe, you can't just brush it off every single time i ask you about getting married or moving in together — we're not getting any younger."

"i'm not brushing it off, it's just not what we should be prioritizing-"

"so when will you?"

"soon, baby. just not right now." you're slowly getting even more irritated.

"when is soon? it doesn't really seem like you want to get married to me..." you mumble towards the end.

"i never said that- why are you accusing me?"

"i'm not accusing you?? you're just not giving me a direct answer! sion, i'm going to get my degree soon. i need to know what plans you have for us-"

"i don't have any, i just- don't think about that stuff when it comes to you." he blurts out. you look at him silently, eyes wide. you sigh, not finding the energy to say anything back. "i'm gonna go home," you utter. "it's late." you sit up from the couch and grab your bag, walking towards the door. "baby, no— i didn't mean it like that," he says, grabbing your wrist. you muster a small smile, saying, "it's okay, let's just talk about this tomorrow." you take sion's hand off yours and walk out the door, leaving him standing there.

tomorrow never came. you stopped bringing it up after that one night, deciding not to stir up another argument again. sion noticed, of course. he thought you would mention marriage at a certain time, but two weeks went by and no words were spoken regarding your future. you began to drown in assignments and exams, and sion went back to mokpo to visit his parents. you two barely spoke, words like 'how are you?' and 'did you eat yet?' being thrown around. silence filled the space in your dorm, your texts, and your relationship.

you assumed he forgot, that he was actually glad that it was never mentioned again. but you were proved wrong when you arrived home one evening after a long study session at the library. you open your dorm to find it neatly organized, blankets folded and condiments put away into the pantry. you look around in confusion, until you see oh sion sitting on your couch, flowers in hand.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him, cautiously taking a step forward. he stands up and hands you the flowers, your fingers brushing against his. you realize then how much you missed this; how much you missed him. his touch, his affection. maybe you should've talked about this sooner. but sion beats you to it.

"we should've talked about this sooner. i'm sorry i didn't bring it up, i thought you didn't want to talk about it- okay, that's not the point. i wanted to give you a proper apology. i'm sorry i never took those conversations seriously and for always brushing it off. i lied when i said i don't think about that kind of stuff. in fact, i think about it too much. to be honest, i'm just-" he exhales shakily, "i'm scared. i'm scared that you'll realize you won't want forever with me, scared that the universe's idea of forever doesn't have us in it. but i realized that you want it as much as i do. so yes, i do want to get married, maybe in about a year, get our own place, have a family of our own, and grow old together. i want it all with you, so please, let me make it up to you."

you say nothing but grab his shoulders and pull him in for a warm embrace. both you and sion bask in each other's touch for a while, the world stopping for you two, the stars glistening in joy.

maeda riku

riku is a very patient and understanding person, you know all too well. but sometimes you wish he wasn't as patient as he is, especially now that his childhood friend nako moved to the same university you and riku attend. like any sweet person would do, riku welcomed her with open arms and let her adjust at her own pace. he introduced nako to you, of course, as well as sion, yushi, jaehee, ryo, and sakuya. over time, she became a part of your little group with the other guys.

you really had no problem with her being close with your boyfriend. no matter how much your friends said he was pushing boundaries, you trusted riku with everything in you. he always made time for you despite having to help nako get used to living in a new place. it started to get a little suspicious, like her getting way too close to riku, but alas, you decided to brush it off, thinking she was just shy to talk to others.

she was in fact, not shy to talk to others. you saw her conversing with some other girls in the halls, overhearing her saying something about how he's so hot and that she just needed to get rid of his girlfriend. you obviously knew she was referring to you and riku. you at least tried to warn riku, saying she's the devil's spawn, but he laughed it off, thinking you just had a little misunderstanding. but no matter how irritated you were, you sucked it up and just pushed those feelings down. but it all blew up one day for you when riku brought her to one of your dates.

the two of you had planned to watch the new wicked movie together. you were looking forward to it especially because you had a long week and needed some boyfriend time with your one and only. little did you know another person would be tagging along, because when you're waiting in front of the theater, you see riku walking towards you with nako by his side. "hi baby! sorry, little rain check — nako had to tag along because her place is full of termites. she had to call pest control to have them exterminated." he says happily, nako just stupidly nodding along.

as much as you tried to keep your composure, you couldn't help but scoff. you lean into riku's ear and whisper harshly, "you did not have to bring her. you could've had ryo or something hang out with her." he looks at you a little surprised, like he didn't expect you to not like the idea of another girl tagging along on your date. he whispers back, "i know, i tried, but she said she was more comfortable with me." your face bitters and you turn to nako, who is still standing there like she can't comprehend where she is. you cross your arms and sigh, "nako, i love you so much girl, but respectfully — this was supposed to be our date. meaning, just me and riku. nothing against you, but maybe we can call ryo or sakuya so they can accompany you. is that fine?"

she purses her lips in concentration and looks back at you, "u-um, i don't want someone e-else to join. i'm only okay with riku-chan." it takes everything in you not to smack the crap out of her face. you're not one to fight, but you're also not one to let people disrespect your boundaries. "nako, this is a date. just for riku and i," you repeat slowly. she grumbles softly and speaks up again, "i can j-just stay on the side! don't worry." you cannot believe the audacity this girl has, so you take your car keys and turn back to riku, whispering into his ear once more.

"if she won't leave, i will."

riku doesn't even have time to react before you're taking your car keys out and walking to the parking lot. he tries to go after you, but nako grabs his arm and asks him to stay. you later send a voice message to riku later that day, full of words like "you have no boundaries!' to "why don't you just date nako then for christ's sake?" riku heads to your dorm immediately, pounding on the door aggressively. you open the door and find him standing there, sweat dripping down the tips of his hair. "what do you want, maeda?" you say coldly. your boyfriend winces at your tone, and he asks, "can i please come in?" you give him a disgusted look, scoffing, "fine."

he sits on your dining table, panting. you assume he ran here. a small part of you feels bad for him because he seems so tired, but the bigger part tells you to just leave him be. as he catches his breath, you take it upon yourself to start the conversation.

"look, honey. i know nako is a nice girl and all but-"

"i'm sorry. you were right — she's literally the devil's spawn. she tried to get me to stay, saying we could go on a date instead. god, i don't know how i didn't see it sooner. i just left her there, told her not to talk to me again. and i blocked her on everything. i'm so sorry, baby."

you walk over and pinch riku's cheek, and he winces at the pain. "i told you!!" you scold. he laughs despite the sting and nods. you snicker, enjoying the fact that he just lets you do this to him. you cup his face and kiss riku, lips capturing each other's effortlessly.

even after you two reconciled, riku did his best to make it up to you anyway, buying you gifts and taking you out to more dates than you've ever been to before. whenever nako passes by, he gives her a look nastier than spoiled milk to the point where you have to tell him to stop so she doesn't try to beat his ass.

and whenever you think about her from time to time, he never fails to reassure you and let you know he's the only one for you as you are for him. maybe having an incredibly patient boyfriend is good after all.

tokuno yushi

your relationship with yushi is peaceful because he isn't one to start arguments and you're not one to provoke him. but you noticed that he doesn't really give details regarding his day or events that are coming up. you feel that sometimes he talks to you like you're an acquaintance and not a lover. you try to bring it up to him as you're both making dinner in your dorm.

"yushi, baby."

"yes, my love?"

"i noticed that you don't really like- tell me everything."

"huh? but i do, baby."

"i know, but like, you just say 'i had class today' or 'i went to the store.' you don't say all the details- hell, i don't even know your schedule."

he purses his lips a little before continuing. "i don't think you need to know all of the details."

you turn around to roll your eyes before sighing, "yeah, i guess."

maybe yushi thought that'd be the end of that conversation, but he was incredibly wrong. you hate arguing with yushi because it never gets you anywhere, so you do the second best thing and give him a taste of his own medicine. every single time he asks you, "how was your day, baby?" all you say is "good," "okay," "alright." is it petty? definitely. but it's better than screaming and yelling at your boyfriend, isn't it?

you were slowly getting impatient. it's been about a week, and it seemed like yushi was a little too nonchalant to notice how petty you were trying to be. but little did you know, he did notice. how could he not? you used to tell him every single thing, from what time you woke up to what brand socks you decided to put on for the day. but now your responses are one or two words. he wondered what he did wrong, until he thought back to your little argument and realized that you were just doing it to get back at him. he had a plan in his mind and decided to go for it.

one day, you and yushi are hanging out at a nearby cafe after class. silence isn't uncommon for you two, but this particular silence is too unbearable, so you suck it up and ask your boyfriend how his day was.

"well, it was good." of course, you think.

"i had science first, and all we did was write some notes while our professor talked about our upcoming test. then i had my language class, which was much better because we did a little group activity as a way to memorize the terms we learned. lunch was okay, sion and riku had to stay back at their class so they weren't there. i had to basically babysit ryo and saku. my last class was math, which was so boring, i almost fell asleep. no, i did actually. riku had to wake me up. how about you, baby?"

you're staring at yushi like he grew a second head because he just spoke more words than he does when talking to his friends. you point at him, absolutely puzzled. "what, who- who are you? what did you do with my boyfriend?" you say accusingly. yushi can't contain it anymore and laughs at your reaction. he takes your hand from across the table and rubs his thumb on your knuckles.

"it's me, y/n. you thought i didn't notice how you started replying like me?" he says. all you can do is stare at him, not expecting him to bring it up. "i'm sorry for what i said last week. maybe you don't need to hear all the details, but you want to, and that's what i love about you. the genuine interest you have for others. i realized that those small things matter to you, and that it's what keeps our relationship interesting. i'll work on it, for you. only if you promise to just tell me next time. i know you don't wanna fight, but it's better than leaving things unsaid."

you smile softly and chuckle. "god, i hate how well you know me," you say sarcastically. "i'm sorry too, i should've just told you instead of making things difficult." he shakes his head, "it's okay, we'll both learn."

your relationship with yushi is peaceful because he isn't one to start arguments and you're not one to provoke him. but it's also peaceful because he understands you like no other and doesn't invalidate your feelings, rather, he makes you feel seen, heard. you learn that he talks about his day vaguely because he pays attention to other things, like the way you hold his hand in the cold of the night, the way your nose scrunches when your allergies are getting worse again, and the way you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

—

author's note: hiii! requested by @pppopppyyy :)) i hope it's okay :'> have a good day/night everyone i love uuuuu!!

#nct wish #nct wish imagines #nct wish x reader #tokuno yushi #yushi fluff #fluff #nct wish scenarios #maeda riku #oh sion #sion fluff #riku fluff

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