#these songs seem like songs you would commit a crime to...
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The Prophecy
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
After recommending a movie to you, Steve invited you you over to watch it with him and to his surprise, you agree.
This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I have no idea why I never posted it.
Based on “The Prophecy” by Taylor Swift because that song is Steve.
Steve would be the first to admit that his sex life is nothing but vanilla. He’s always on top and always so sweet and gentle. But now he’s starting to wonder if that’s the problem. If that’s the reason why women don’t seem to want anything more than a one night stand.
He doesn’t get it. He used to be King Steve and now he can’t even get a call back? What the fuck is that about? He goes on a date almost every night and still somehow the only action he gets is with his hand.
The “you suck” side of Robin’s board is so full that she had to get another one and what started as a harmless joke has now made Steve start to think badly about himself. He used to have so much confidence and now it’s withering away bit by bit with each rejection.
He thinks all hope is lost until you walk in to Family Video. You’re all smiles as you ask him for a suggestion and he’s convinced it’s all a prank. It’s going too well if he’s being honest. You’re laughing at his jokes and genuinely seem interested in what he’s recommending. He’s now wondering if Robin put you up to this so he’d stop complaining to her about being single.
He decides it doesn’t matter and that he’s going to play along because you’re pretty and now he’s following you around the store like a lost puppy, holding a large stack of tapes that you’ve handed to him. Normally, he hates when people treat him like he’s their personal shopper but he’s going to let you do whatever you damn well please. You might as well tell him to jump because he’ll ask how high.
“Is this one any good?” You ask, holding up a tape to him and he audibly gasps. He didn’t think anyone hadn’t seen the movie so the fact that you haven’t is genuinely shocking to him.
“You’ve never seen the Princess Bride?” He’s acting like he just witnessed you commit a crime. Sure, you’ve heard of the movie and listened to people rave about it, but there’s something about it that turns you off.
“No,” you shake your head and Steve plucks the VHS from your hand and heads over to the counter with you following him.
“I can’t allow that. You’ve gotta watch it. It’s one of the best movies of all time. So, I’m renting it to you.”
“Well, maybe we can watch it together.” Are you…flirting? He hasn’t been flirted with in so long that he’s having a hard time telling whether it’s that or you’re just being friendly.
“Y-yeah. I’ve got whole movie theater in my basement. We can watch it there.” That’s become his make out spot when everyone found out about skull rock, but this time, he just wants to watch a movie with you.
“It’s a date,” you glance at his name tag to get his name. “Steve. Can I call you, Stevie?”
“You can call me anything you want.” He internally cringes at his words, but you seem so into it that he can’t possibly take them back.
“Well, I’m y/n, but you can call me anything you want.” The line completely goes over his head as all he can focus on is your name. He’s heard so much about you and now that he can put a face to a name, he finally understands.
You’re new to Hawkins and it’s clear that you’re the talk of the town as everyone seems to want a chance to either be you or under you. And he can see why. You’re sweet and very easy on the eyes. You’re probably the most stunning woman he’s ever seen and you’re flirting with him? He’s wondering if this is some sort of cruel prank.
You set your purse on the counter then pull out a notebook and pen from it before setting them both on the counter in front of him. “Here, write down your address and I’ll write down my number and you can call me whenever you’re available.”
He’s scribbling down his information so quickly that he’s afraid you can’t read it. But you read over the words without a word then scribble down your number before ripping off the piece and handing it to him. You then put your things back into your purse before pulling out some cash to pay for your rental.
“Oh, he’s always available. How does tonight sound?” Robin has inserted herself into the conversation and Steve really wishes she hadn’t. He can get a date all by himself thank you very much.
“Stop helping me,” he whispers to her and he really hopes you can’t hear him.
“Tonight is perfect,” you smile and Steve swears he’s already in love with you. “Call me when you get off?”
“Oh, he’ll be getting off, alright,” Robin says under her breath and Steve is quick to elbow her in the stomach.
“Seriously, stop,” he turns to her to give her a glare and you honestly just find their whole dynamic to be funny, like siblings. Steve slides the VHS across the counter to you along with your change and as soon as you’re gone, he’s going to let Robin have it.
They’re so engrossed in their conversation that they haven’t even noticed that you’ve left your purse. The bright pink thing is sitting there in front of them they’re not even aware, too caught up in their silly conversation.
“I’m helping you get laid and this is how you repay me?” She asks, leaning against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I don’t need your help,” he tells her as he heads over to the cart of returns to put them away and Robin follows.
“Clearly you do. Or else I wouldn’t have had to step in.”
“I was fine. I’ve still got it.” He honestly doesn’t know how he even got a date with you since he almost always flounders now. Maybe this will be the one that finally sticks.
“Good for you, dingus, you scored a date with the hottest woman in town. Maybe this time I’ll actually be able to put a tally in the “you rule” column.”
Robin knows that it’s a cruel joke to make when he’s so sensitive about the whole thing, but she can’t figure out why. Even thought hasn’t been and will never be attracted to him, she totally understands the appeal. He’s sweet and funny and much more intelligent than people give him credit for. She doesn’t know why he can’t seem to find someone to settle down with when that’s really all he wants.
She knows he’s not as happy as he lets on, that he’s much more lonely than he tells people he is. That he always goes out with his friends or is over at her house because his is far too big to be alone in.
That’s why he’s always got a girl in his bed so he won’t be going to sleep alone, but that’s how he always wakes up as they always leave him before he’s awake.
It’s not fair, she thinks. That everyone has seemed to have found his person but not him. He’s such a fucking catch so it just doesn’t make sense. She’s really hoping that maybe you’ll be the one.
“Fuck off,” he shoves her away with a laugh. He’s being a good sport about the whole thing, at least that’s what everyone thinks. No one knows that sometimes he’ll go home and have a good cry in the shower because of how alone he feels. And he feels so fucking pathetic for it, but it's the only way he knows how to cope.
The bell above the door jingles, signaling that a customer has entered the store. Steve and Robin turn to see Dustin carrying a stack of VHS tapes he's going to return. He's got a bright smile on his face as usual as he makes his way over to the counter where Steve meets him.
“Everyone’s coming over tonight to watch Star Wars if you guys wanna join,” Dustin says as Steve returns the movies to the system.
“I’ll be there, but Steve has a date,” Robin replies, patting Steve on the shoulder in a congratulatory manner.
“Right, with your hand, a sock, and a bottle of lotion, just like every night?” Dustin is wearing a knowing look and Robin is grimacing in disgust while Steve’s cheeks turn bright pink.
“No,” Steve glares. “With a girl. We’re going to watch the Princess Bride.”
“What’s her name?” He’s asking in a way that makes it seem like he doesn’t believe Steve, but he does. Dustin just likes to give him shit any chance he gets.
“Y/n.” Steve’s tone is smug and Dustin scoffs in response because now he really doesn’t believe him. There’s no fucking way that he scored a date with you of all people. Maybe back in his “King Steve” days, but definitely not now.
“Y/n as in y/n l/n? No way dude. She’s way out of your league.” Dustin is laughing now as if he’s just heard the most funny joke.
“Gee, thanks, Henderson.” Steve grabs the tapes now that he’s put them back in the system, then turns his back, heading for the break room because it’s time for his thirty. He doesn’t have time for this.
He can hear the two of them still yapping as he closes the door. He reaches for his punch card, punching that he’s on his break then grabs his lunchbox from the fridge before sitting down at the table with a sigh.
“She gave him her number and everything. And let me tell you, she’s even hotter than they say.” Robin had never seen you in person until tonight and she totally understands why everyone is head over heels for you.
“Don’t believe me?” She asks, eyeing the purse on the counter that you had apparently left.
“This could be anybody’s,” Dustin glares at her just as you enter the store again. All of the air is sucked out of his lungs as he’s come to the realization that you are in fact real.
“Totally forgot my purse,” you tell Robin with a little laugh as you grab the thing from the counter, slinging it over your shoulder. You then turn in Dustin’s direction, staring at him with your signature bright smile. “And who might you be?” You ask, and Dustin’s mouth goes bone dry as he looks up at you. You really are hotter than they say.
“D-“ he clears his throat before trying to introduce himself again. “Dustin.”
“Dustin,” you repeat and his name sounds so angelic coming from your mouth. “That’s cute. Well, it was nice to meet you Dustin and I'll see you, Rob,” you wave at her from over your shoulder like you’re old friends and yeah, she’s going to be thinking about that for a very long time.
You flee the store yet again and Dustin’s eyes are following you as Robin opens a magazine, staring down at the page to hide her blushing cheeks. He’s trying to figure out how he can become four years older while Robin is crossing her fingers that you’re also into girls.
They both know it’s pathetic, especially since you’re going out with Steve tonight, but they can’t help it. There’s just something about you that draws people to you, like they’re all sailors being lured to their deaths and damn if that isn’t a good way to go.
It’s the way you carry yourself, as if you don’t have a care in the world. And you don’t. You just go around with all of that confidence and maybe that’s why everyone either envies or wants you. You never pay attention to that, though.
None of them truly know you and they don’t care to either. You’re just something pretty to look at, someone who will look good on their arm, but the second they get you into bed or even hang out with you with everyone watching, they’ll leave you in the drop of a hat. Because really, all they want is for you to make them look good.
But Steve? He actually treated you like a person. He wasn’t falling all over you, just genuinely trying to help you find a movie. You’re not usually one to randomly ask someone out, in fact, the whole thing made you super nervous. But he was so eager to agree and that made you feel like your usual self again.
You've heard a lot about Steve. You know his reputation and how he's very popular with the ladies, so you're surprised that he's available on a Saturday night. You figured that someone else would have already snatched him up and put a ring on it. You're both about that age now so it's honestly surprising that he's single. How has no woman in Hawkins come to their senses and married this man? You suppose you should be grateful since you're the lucky woman he's invited over tonight.
Steve exits the break room as soon as his break is over still thinking about you and how he still can't believe how you actually asked him out. The prettiest girl in Hawkins. Maybe he really does still have game.
He makes his way over to Robin feeling more confident than he has a long time. She's scribbling something down in a notebook and he lets out a deep sigh. He was really hoping that she would have gotten bored of that stupid game by now. But apparently not.
As always, his love life has just become a joke to everyone. Because it's just so funny that poor Stevie can't get a date. He'll die alone while everyone else will end up with someone. That's just his fate, he thinks.
The rest of the night goes by so slowly. It's almost painful for Steve to look at the clock, watching the minutes tick by at a glacial pace. He has never been so eager to go home, actually wanting to be there for the first time in a long time.
He's so close to asking Robin to close up for him because he just realized he doesn't have anything to eat or drink besides shitty beer and a pizza that's been in his freezer since he was a kid. But he decides that he'll just hurry to the store on his way home because he's already had her close for him more times than he can count.
"Would it offend you if I picked out your outfit for tonight? Because no offense, Steve, but this,” Robin refers to his outfit. "Is just not going to cut it.”
“Gee, thanks, Rob.” He's already nervous enough and doesn't need Robin making him second guess what he's going to wear even though he was already going to anyway.
“I'm just saying, would it kill you to switch it up every once in a while?”
“Are you of all people seriously trying to give me fashion advice right now?”
“What's that supposed to mean?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she leans against the counter, fixing Steve with a glare. He doesn't actually mean it, he just suddenly feels a lot of pressure about tonight and he's taking it out on her.
"Nothing, I'm just nervous, alright?" He runs a hand through his hair and just by the look on his face, she can see that he's telling the truth.
"Thought you didn't get nervous." She's smiling smugly now and Steve really doesn't appreciate it.
He ignores her and rounds the counter, making his way over to the door, turning the sign to signify that the store is now closed. He's now counting the minutes until he's able to go home, actively watching the hands on his watch tick, tick, tick by.
"I haven't done this in a while, alright?" He asks as he locks the door. "I'm a little rusty."
"A little?” She scoffs and Steve rolls his eyes.
“Alright a lot.”
“You need to relax. It’s just a date.” But it’s not, not to Steve. He thinks this could actually be something and he hopes he doesn’t blow it this time.
“So are you getting out of here or what?”
“What?” The question genuinely catches him off guard. He didn’t think she’d actually want to close for him since she’s done it so many times in the past.
“I can hold down the fort. Go get the girl, Steve.” He smiles widely, before pressing a kiss to Robin's cheek before hurrying out the door to his car. For once, he actually thinks he has a chance and he’s totally going to take it.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x y/n
403 notes
·
View notes
Text
Once upon a time
‘Prince’ Yandere x reader

Imagine a reader in modern day society. She lives in a normal little town, went to your average school, lives in a normal house and has your everyday friendly neighbours. Like I said, her life is nothing out of the ordinary.
She feels lucky to have so many kind people in her life. Everyone knows everyone and isn’t afraid of lending a helping hand whenever someone is in trouble. The town is on the smaller side but very cozy. They have their own traditions like the annual Christmas market or the summer fundraiser. Nice stuff like that.
Everything is simply perfect! Or…well it would be if not for one tiny detail.
Unfortunately there’s one guy who just can’t seem to take a hint. Reader feels kinda mean thinking of him as a stain on the idyllic life she’s built. She doesn’t understand why he can’t take a ‘no’ for an answer. Everyday this hunk of a man walks right into her workplace like he owns the place and demands reader’s attention. With the way he’s acting you would think he’s dying and reader’s attention is the one and only cure.
It’s not like he’s ugly or anything, but a guy who doesn’t listen is just a 🚩
That’s not even the worst part. Another big issue is his…delusions.
Like, one time when reader was walking home she decided to stop by the market square since she needed some groceries. And guess who was in the middle of the square, somehow managed to climb onto the water fountain and proudly shouting at the top of his lungs? Part of reader’s soul disintegrated that day. What in the world was he doing!? He didn’t seem to be embarrassed either. No, with his nose pointed upwards he said he was going to reveal a big secret about the whole town. Silence filled he air, everyone was curious about what he was about to say.
What was this secret? Had someone committed a grave crime and was about to be exposed? Thoughts like that circled in everyone’s mind. Their imagination came to life and dreamt up various scenarios to what the deal was. People anticipated something foul, raw and sinful only to be met with grave disappointment.
You see, the man had suddenly declared himself as royalty in front of an entire audience. He claimed that the whole town was under a spell and had forgotten about their origins; being fairytale characters. And right now, only he was able to remember the truth. Alright, what the hell? That was ridiculous. What made it worse was the fact that he appointed himself as the towns prince and leader. Yikes. He said most- if not all- of the citizens where peasants and therefore his subjects. That’s why the had to listen to him from now on.
Reader wanted to peel off her skin and scream in that moment. The secondhand embarrassment was too much.
Bringing down shame upon yourself and your ancestors was one thing, but did he have to drag reader into it?? He claimed she was also royalty and should be treated with outmost respect. Why? Because he’s her husband! Of course his spouse need the 5-star treatment as well.
After the painful incident he’s always stopped by her workplace to talk her ear off. No matter what she said or did(or how much others complained) he never left. At least not permanently. In rare instances he did go with a downcast expression but he’d always be back full force the next day.
The man tells reader about the wonderful life they were going to have. If only the curse wouldn’t have been placed and they’d all been transported to the world they currently live in. It pains him so to know she’s forgotten all about him and the great love they shared. But it’ll be alright. After all, they found each other again and he refuses to let go.
Reader only half listens(he will throw a tantrum if he realises she’s not paying attention to him) as he drones on about how they first met in the forest. Of course he found her by hearing a wonderful song travel through the woods, he followed it all the way to her. They danced together and met every sundown from then on. It was so romantic. It’s impossible not to roll your eyes at the cliche imagery, it’s just so corny.
Yandere ‘prince’ also demands reader to refer to him by his royal, ‘real’ name. It’s not his real one, it’s something else. Everyone knows that- except him, apparently, since he refuses to respond to it. If you do use it, he’ll ignore you and pretend you didn’t speak at all. It’s very tiring, more so since he tries to enforce this delusion onto reader. He also won’t use her actual name and instead settles for this medieval one. Apart from that, he calls her ‘love,’ ‘darling’, ‘my heart’ and other cutesy nicknames that are far from appreciated.
It doesn’t matter what reader says, he won’t stop.
He insists he wants to be her saviour again. Sadly for him there is nothing to protect you from except the occasional spider that makes its way inside your house.
‘Well, it’s better than nothing.’ He would say before smacking and tossing it out.
He is willing to do anything for his lover. And that really does means anything. Nothing is off the table. It wasn’t before and it definitively isn’t now simply because of some lame curse. It can’t keep him form his soulmate.
He was your prince before, he’ll show you that he still is.
———————————
[This is kinda based of Once Upon A Time, though it’s been ages since I watched it. ]
#kyseya oc#yandere imagines#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere x reader#yandere Prince#prince yandere#yandere prince x reader#yandere royalty#fairytale#yandere fairytale#fairytale yandere#yandere prince oc#x reader#Yandere prince x princess reader#kyseya’s dungeon#fantasy#magic#Yandere fantasy#delusional yandere#obsessive love#yandere#possesive#obsessed lover
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
another week , another gift ! today i'm sharing a list of secrets that i've compiled over the years of being in the rpc .
under the cut , there are 70+ secrets that i have individually grouped into different categories to make it easier for you to browse through the extensive list . although not all of them focus on dark & mature topics , keep in mind that a handful of these still have certain trigger warnings so please proceed with caution . hopefully you find this masterlist helpful .
a like and reblog would be greatly appreciated ! enjoy ♡
🔐 DECEPTION & LYING .
pretending to be vegan for attention.
assumed someone else's identity.
pretending to be in university when they've actually been kicked out.
lies about having certain allergies for attention.
fakes their instagram posts to appear more interesting.
has lied about the number of people they've slept with.
has changed their identity to run away from their past.
is faking their name / ethnicity / age / backstory etc.
is hiding a physical / mental illness.
is pretending to be color blind to seem more interesting.
has gone to random funerals for the free food & lies about their relationship with the deceased.
🔐 FAME & BEAUTY .
has had extensive plastic surgery but lies about it.
uses ghost writers for their songs.
has a secret love child with their co-star.
is dating their significant other for publicity.
is a social climber.
becomes friends with celebrities to rob their homes.
runs a blog with dirt on socialites & celebrities.
causes scandals to gain relevance.
🔐 FAMILY & FRIENDSHIP .
comes from a wealthy family but pretends to be broke.
has given their child up for adoption.
knows they aren’t the real biological father of their child but pretends they are.
knows that their parent is a murderer but hasn't told the police.
pretends to come from a wealthy family but their parents are actually drug addicts.
tells their friends they're an only child when they actually have siblings.
has been forced to participate in frowned upon things by their parents / friends.
caught one parent having an affair with the same sex but hasn't told the other parent yet.
gave up their newborn & their friend / parent / sibling is raising the baby as their own.
as a kid, saw their mother shoot their father but hasn't told anyone.
pretended to be pregnant but had a surrogate carry their child.
went into their friends house after they died & stole a bunch of their things.
🔐 LOVE & LOSS .
uses hook up apps for attention but never meets up with their matches.
has catfished someone they liked / didn't like.
is using their significant other as a "beard".
only dates people that are famous and wealthy.
they are still not over their ex.
uses an ouija board to communicate with the dead.
is currently cheating on their significant other.
is currently cheating on their significant other with their best friend.
has kept all major secrets from their significant other in fear that they would leave them.
has helped their significant other bury a body.
🔐 MURDER & CRIMES .
has cried to get out of a speeding ticket.
has bought a stolen cellphone & keeps getting calls from the owner.
is a kleptomaniac.
has seen a sibling / friend commit murder but is too scared to rat them out.
commits tax fraud.
has broken out of prison.
is a stalker / has a stalker.
has a side job where they do illegal businesses.
has a restraining order against someone.
has past criminal offenses e.g. public intoxication , underage drinking , dui , drug possession , scamming , vandalism , etc.
steals valuable items & sells them on the black market.
thinks they've committed a crime even when they didn't.
has had to clean their dead friends belongings & found out they were a serial killer.
steals from grocery stores all the time.
is withholding information about a police case.
they've gone to jail for a crime their friend / family member committed.
🔐 POWER & MONEY .
spends all their money on designer clothes but lives in a run down apartment.
dates & marries people for their money.
has gambled their entire life savings away.
used their power & money to hire a hitman for the person they hate.
has embezzled a few million dollars.
hires random people to be their friends.
their father is the leader of the largest criminal organization in their area.
🔐 SEX & DRUGS .
is a masochist.
used to be a porn star.
has depended on drugs for years.
has a drug / sex / alcohol addiction.
has participated in a "glory hole" multiple times.
has had parents try & hire a hooker for them when the parents found out they were asexual.
participated in the casting couch.
goes to aa / na meetings to make friends even though they're not addicted to drugs or alcohol.
has hooked up with more than 100 people in less than 24 hours.
hired a prostitute to lose their virginity to.
runs a very popular faceless nsfw blog.
pretends to have sex all the time but is actually a virgin.
700 notes
·
View notes
Text
Imagine If You Will...
Acting as the Frontman's PA, and having the Guard harem wrapped around your finger.
This part is:
PA Announcer
Musical Fan!reader
This will be a choose your adventure kind of thing where there will be multiple with jobs/specialties/interactions.
a/n: Hope you like Mamma Mia xoxo
Please don't hesitate to request!!
Walking a few steps behind the Frontman, peering through your silver mask and analysing the clipboard in your hands you updated your boss on the status of everything being prepared for the games.
Based on the grunts and scoffs he let out you crossed out and marked different items on the list. For a man of little words, he sure was good at communicating. After the large doors to the hall closed, you looked first to your boss then to the militia-like staff.
Handing over the checklist to the closest square, you nodded to your boss and turned to leave.
“Squares 1 through 16, Your men will be painting the halls. Squares 18 through 21, Your men will construct the bridge. Squares 22 and 23..." As you approached your office the front man's voice faded away.
There was a surprising amount of paper work for a company that strived to leave no traceable evidence, you supposed they needed to be completely aware of the crimes that the company had committed as to better cover their tracks. That being said, you would swear that the pile had grown since before breakfast.
So sitting down in your little office you pulled off your mask and began to sort through the first few files. After certain issues and unauthorised branches sprung up in the command structure of the previous year's games, you been given the tedious task of vetting all potential contestants.
The main rules were; no one with medical training, we cant have another spout of organ harvesting, no one with knowledge that could reduce or alter the difficulty of the games, aka no more glass guys, and so on and so forth for what seemed to be an unending and ever growing pile of filters.
You'd made it through half of the pile, removing a few of the contestants for their quote unquote leadership qualities, when an alarm chimed from your phone. Tugging forward the microphone you grabbed the notes from today's agenda, before crackling the speakers to life with the press of a button.
'It is now midday. Lunch will be available to grab under the sun for the next 90 minutes. Today's music choice is... mine and will be the entire Mamma Mia musical soundtrack followed by twenty minutes of me replaying my favourite songs.'
Pressing play on the album and turning off the microphone you opted to return to your work for the time being, only now there was the occasional humming along.
When a tapping came from your window you finally stopped, slipping your silvery mask back into place and tugging back the unnecessarily extravagant curtain you observed a single circle giving you a thumbs up.
Waving to him you stepped closer and peered to the side, down the hall stood a group grooving, and as you pressed your ear to the glass you could hear their voices singing along.
Sneaking your secure and very dumb brick of a phone out of your pocket you started to record, before noticing the circle was now waving for you to join them.
Deciding... screw it you leaned your phone against the sill and slipped out of the office to join the gaggle of guards. Only then did you notice just how loud the PA system was set to as the concrete under your feet vibrated with the music.
Dancing and singing along, the group seemed to grow as the album played on... until your boss' brash tone cracked over the system;
'Okay that's enough, go get your food.'
Oh yeah... lunch.
#squid game imagine#squid game#guard harem#guards x reader#pink soldiers#pink guards#pink soldiers x reader#guard x reader#pink soldiers imagine#Squid game#squid game x reader#guard harem imagine#guard harem x reader#Imagine if you will...
550 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here's the thing. I'm a girl, and as a girl, I really like it when girls are portrayed in fiction. Especially fantasy.
But so much fiction/fantasy mixes up 'girls' with 'unstoppable forces of female badass' and there's not necessarily anything wrong with having a character who is an 'unstoppable forces of female badass'. But it gets old real quick. And it is not the same as portraying normal girls, or having good female characters.
And that's one of the many reasons I love Avatar the Last Airbender.
Because all the girl characters have flaws and weaknesses and sometimes act like idiots or jerks. They get emotional and make mistakes. They lose fights or arguments or are just wrong sometimes. Some of them are amazing warriors, and some aren't. Some are powerful or special and some are normal, with nothing special about them.
And I Love that.
I was around the same age as Katara when I first watched Atla. And I instantly connected with her as a character. I loved her optimistic attitude and her fighting spirit. And I could relate with her anger, and with her maternal instinct. I admired her fighting skills of course, but I loved how the show portrayed her compassion and kindness, the way she could both beat up a bunch of bullies AND enjoy a relaxing day at the spa. She was a baddass warrior that should never be crossed. But she was also a normal teenage girl who had a lot of the same internal struggles and problems that I did.
(I never connected to Toph on the same level, but I did relate to her on a few things. She's an adorable trash gremlin who would commit any crime for fun and I love that. But she struggles with being both independent and letting people help her, and I still struggle with that sometimes. I've learned that sometimes, you can help others by letting them help you.)
Yue is, in my opinion, a perfect example of a type of hero that seems to be disappearing. She is not a warrior. She is not a fighter. She's not even a bender.
Yue is a perfect princess, a perfect daughter. She is extremely feminine in a rather older sense.
And she was the only one who could save the world. She gave up everything for her people. She saved everything, everyone, the entire world. Without ever becoming a fighter.
Yue is a perfect example of a girl who was never more than a girl, and how that's okay. Not every girl has to be rough and tumble and fight for her rights in order to change everything. Sometimes it's okay to just be a quiet obedient girly girl. Sometimes that's all it takes to be a hero.
And I love that. Yue is strong in her own way. She is unique and interesting. She appears in only a few episodes and yet manages to be one of my favorite characters.
Song is another great example of this. Song is a healer in a small town. We don't see much of her but we see her compassion and empathy. She is gentle and generous. A healer not a fighter.
She watches Zuko steal her ostrich horse and does nothing.
Is that because she's kind and generous and knows he needs it more? Or is it because she's a healer girl who knows she can't actually stop those two from taking the horse? Maybe neither, maybe both. I have always thought that the scene where Zuko steals the horse and only the audience knows she saw it is one of the most thought-provoking in the series.
Suki is a badass warrior woman who is an awesome fighter and good leader. She is one of the best non bender fighter we see in the entire show. She was one of the smartest, most efficient, and powerful characters we ever saw.
She kissed a boy she had just met because she thought he was cute.
Now don't get me wrong I love SokkaxSuki. Its one of the best couples in the show.
But Suki totally did the old 'love at first sight' thing. And that is awesome. Because when she kisses him she delivers one of the best lines, not only from her, but, I think, in the entire show.
"I AM a warrior, but I'm a girl too."
Being a warrior doesn't mean that she isn't also a teenage girl. She might be a fighter, but she still gets crushes and likes to flirt with cute boys. And hey, she picked a good one. Not every boy is going to come break you out of prison.
Anyways, let's have more realistic girls in fiction. And please enjoy the next 24 hours.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text



Criminal!Jinwoo x reader Warning: Murder, blood mention. Song lyrics: Criminal - Britney Spears.
"According to the report from the city police department, there has been another murder recently, the murderer has been identified as 'The Ghost', who has been responsible for many recent murders...."
Raindrops hit the house windows as they fell. The living room stayed dim while only the television screen provided light.
"The victim is Kim Min-seok. The police discovered that Kim runs a drug trafficking network that operates between different countries. The police have not determined who killed Kim Min-seok. Public opinion..."
You settled into the sofa with your legs crossed while observing the TV screen. Your hands naturally held the hot coffee.
The female TV announcer continued to speak in her normal tone throughout the broadcast.
Another murder had occurred. You couldn't remember how many this month, it was clearly quite a few. It seems like every 1-2 days, another person is murdered.
You mumble, "I don't understand... Why should we feel sorry for those criminals? They don't even deserve to live. He's clearly doing things that the police can't do..."
Serial killer - 'The Ghost' has his own principles. In most cases where he is believed to be the perpetrator, the victims are other criminals. For example, heinous criminals who have not been discovered, notorious gang leaders, and the scum of society who have been released thanks to bribes...
It's clear that 'The Ghost' is acting on behalf of heaven.
Even though deep down, you know that punishing criminals is the duty of the law and the state. If this situation continues, the situation will be very chaotic. The 'Ghost's' actions may make people happy, but they disregard the law. If everyone is like this, the law will no longer matter and the country will be unstable.
You can't help but feel indignant.
Not only because the victims were all criminals who committed heinous crimes, but also because...
The murderer that the whole city feared...was your lover.
Sung Jinwoo.
________________________________
He is a hustler, he's no good at all
He is a loser, he's a bum, bum, bum, bum
________________________________
You never thought you would fall in love with Jinwoo, you never thought you would fall in love with a criminal.
You used to have a normal life, never involved in the underworld, never involved in blood, never involved in darkness.
But that changed since you met him.
It was on a fateful night.
At that time, the city of Seoul was always bright and cheerful, or at least it appeared so. There was no disturbance, the flow of people was still bustling, the peace of the city was still maintained stably.
But in reality, in the alleys in the hidden corners of Seoul, shadows had begun to grow and gradually prepared for 'purification'.
It was pouring rain. You just wanted to go home after a tiring day at the office. Just sitting in one place and staring at the computer screen made your body feel heavy.
You trudged home. The path to your apartment felt more shadowed than normal yet your mind might have created the effect.
The sound of rain mixed with a faint groan startled you.
You came to a halt before noticing him.
A man rested against the wall while breathing hard with one hand pressed to his stomach and blood flowing to the ground.
You normally stayed away from these situations because you feared problems would arise. You were sure he was probably involved in the underworld or some gang. You could have chosen to ignore him and go home.
But for some reason, you knelt down next to him. Your instinct was to flee but you extended your hands to hold the man's stomach.
"D-Don't touch me. Go home..." his voice was hoarse, weak, but still dangerous and warning.
You didn't listen. In that moment, the recent warnings on TV, about being careful when walking at night, because of several murders that had occurred around your neighborhood.
You now saw only a dying man in front of you.
"You can't die here.." you whispered, and before your brain could process your actions, you picked him up and carried him back to your apartment.
The black-haired man, although injured, still looked at you sharply.
"You know that there have been several murders recently....I'm the murderer, aren't you afraid of me..?"
You knew you should be afraid, should stay away from him.
Looking deeply into his eyes revealed a lost spirit stuck in eternal darkness.
"I-I don't know." You should have escaped but you chose to stay instead.
The moment you met him you understood your world would never stay the same. You entered darkness and understood you could never escape it.
___________________________
He lies, he bluffs, he's unreliable
He is a sucker with a gun, gun, gun, gun
___________________________
Suddenly you felt the empty space next to you sink, and a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his embrace forcefully.
You knew who it was.
Your lover was back.
The clock hands had just passed twelve. The rain had not stopped yet. He still had the damp smell of rain on him, and a faint smell of iron.
You knew that after he killed someone, he would shower before he came to see you, he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. But it seemed that the smell of blood had penetrated his skin, making it impossible to completely disappear.
And it seemed that you were getting used to it.
Jinwoo put one hand around your waist, rubbing the curves of your body.
He took off his leather gloves, put them on the table slowly, then wrapped both arms around you, pulling you closer to him. Your back pressed against his strong chest.
Jinwoo decided to stay quiet without speaking. He held you in a soft but firm hug as he brought you closer. He bowed his head and buried it in your hair while breathing in the scent of your shampoo.
"Did you kill someone again?" A question popped out of your mouth, but you already knew the answer.
He didn't answer, just closed his eyes, then hummed softly through your hair.
He tilted his head, moving down to your neck, placing light kisses on it.
"Do you hate me?" His voice was hoarse, speaking between kisses.
His ebony hair lightly brushed against your chin, along with the light kisses on your neck, making you feel itchy. You giggled, then shook your head slightly. "You know clearly that I cannot"
Jinwoo laughed softly as he showed signs of tiredness through his smile. He leaned back against the sofa armrest to support himself as you relaxed on top of him. His hands still didn't leave your waist.
Silence filled the room. There was only the sound of the news bulletin board still showing the news of the day, and the slow breathing of the two people lying on the sofa.
You were used to this.
Jinwoo had never revealed his true self to you.
He was not a hero, nor a demon.
He was just the only one willing to take action.
He was only dealing with those who the law had not yet reached.
You kissed his cheek lightly, then placed a soft kiss on his lips.
"I don't hate you... I'm worried about you."
Jinwoo didn't say anything, but his arms tightened. In that moment, there was no 'Ghost', nor a serial killer.
There was only you and him.
That was the only thing you cared about right now.
__________________________
But mama I'm in love with a criminal
And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical
_________________________
I'm not criticizing the law, this is just a plot, no bad intentions.
#sung jinwoo x reader#jinwoo#solo leveling#solo leveling x reader#jinwoo sung#sung jinwoo x y/n#sung jinwoo x you#solo leveling fanfic
355 notes
·
View notes
Text
♰ his parliament's on fire — dazai osamu


.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 1 - nightclub owner!dazai
every man in yokohama has a long list of crimes they’d commit to be with you, but none quite as long as dazai’s.
contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, port mafia boss!dazai, port mafia member!reader, bsd typical blood / violence, unprotected sex, established relationship, takes place before doa, dazai & reader are a lil unhinged bc they're in love, praise, soft dazai, riding dazai, sub reader, v slight breeding kink oops — 10.1k

The music shook your chest as you watched people head to the front of the club for a dance, a combination of those that were regulars, and those who were just desperate to blow their money on an evening in one of the finest night clubs in the country.
It had grown hot in the club, even for an autumn evening in Yokohoma. There were more people filling the tables than usual, standing only to swing their partners around on the dancefloor. A woman sung sultrily to the crowd, a song that you hadn’t heard in ages. Even for a Saturday, it was crowded, the capacity met, and then surpassed, packed to the brim as a group of foreign billionaires weaseled their way in by paying twice the entry fee.
You swirled your glass, sitting alone at the bar with your legs crossed, the tight, red dress rising up on your thighs. Beside you, a man was puffing a cigar, blowing the smoke back in your face so frequently that it took all your effort not to cough. Still, he paid you little attention, too enraptured by a skinny young woman that giggled every time he touched her arm.
A few more individuals made their way to the dancefloor, tracking unaccompanied dancers like prey, hopeful that they could score a partner for the evening. It was amusing, really, how often you’d seen some of the same men come back. They’d throw stacks of money on the table in a desperation to acquaint themselves with beautiful, upper-class women, even if they’d go home unhappy and broke.
Ice clinked against the sides of your glass as the last drop disappeared down your throat, warming you up for the rest of the evening. Already, you had caught the glimpse of several men in the club. But those who knew who you were knew to keep their distance, and they never tried to sneak more than a subtle glance in your direction.
Those who didn’t usually noticed nothing but your striking beauty and the allure of darkness that seemed to follow you. They were drawn to you easily, smiling at you like they were entitled to gawk at your appearance, like it would be criminal for anyone so beautiful to shield herself away from the world.
Rarely did that ever end well for them.
You handed your empty glass off to the bartender—a dear friend that you’d convinced to work for you at the club—and made your way over to the dance floor. The crowd parted for you with quick glances and slackened jaws, stumbling on their own feet to get out of your way. Once you passed, the world seemed to resume itself. Everyone continued about their business, averted their gaze, even if they were careful not to get too close to you.
Something about that made you smile.
For a while, you danced on your own, grinning carelessly to yourself as you twisted your hips, unbound yourself to the music and the alcohol that ran through your veins. It was a different kind of freedom, and though you’d once been wary of the watchful eyes, they no longer bothered you. You loved losing yourself in the rhythm, loved feeling transported to another realm.
The setlist for the evening included a few of your favorites, and you carried on until there was sweat on your forehead, a single bead trickling down your temple, one that you hastily wiped off. Breaths came to you more stiflingly, heaving inhales and exhales that paired with your thirst.
Finally, the tempo of the music slowed, just enough to snap you back into the present, and the energy zapped out of you as your mood darkened. The time of the evening had passed when you realized that it was no longer fun to dance alone.
You sighed, and with a frown, let your gaze trail across the room to find the cool brown eyes that you loved more than the music you spun in circles to. But Dazai was already in a conversation with someone else, tapping slender fingers against his glass full of amber liquid. He listened intently to a conversation between two men twice his age.
Beside him, Chuuya stood at the edge of the table like a loyal bloodhound, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall. You caught his eye instead and smiled to him, though not a single muscle in his face twitched. It seemed as though he was intent on keeping up the charade for the evening.
As much as you wanted to smile even more sweetly and taunt him mercilessly, you didn’t let yourself get too distracted. Instead, you refocused your sights on your other goal.
The stocky, tall man was right where Dazai said he’d be, sitting with a couple woman and a few empty glasses in front of him. He had a neatly trimmed, graying beard, sporting a watch that was, at least, a couple million yen.
You caught him watching you over the edge of the table, his smile slow as you bat your eyelashes at him, sauntering past him with a perfectly coy expression. Eyes lingered on the curves of your hips; the smooth skin of your legs revealed by the dress. The lust came in near waves off of him, thick and heavy as they reached you.
It made your job easier, the obvious attraction that they never tried to hide from you. You smiled to yourself, and felt a sense of satisfaction, despite his disgraceful leering.
The seats at the bar had been filled up when you returned, leaving no room for you and your new companion to retreat.
A younger regular, one with an overabundance of nerves and an awkward smile, spoke in hushed whispers to his friend, one that was dressed in a suit far too cheap to be in this club.
You tapped him on the shoulder, smiling at him in the way that had everyone bending over backwards for you. “Excuse me?”
He looked over, irritated for a fleeting second before realizing who it was that had approached him. Immediately, he was to his feet, stammering over a greeting while his friend gawked at him with incredulity.
“Sorry to bother you,” you said, softening your voice. “I was wondering if I could have those seats. I hate to—”
“No, no,” he said, practically shoving the other man away, pushing him out of the chair while he sputtered confused nonsense. “Take them! We’ll be out of your hair.”
You thanked them before placing yourself neatly back onto the stool you’d occupied before. It was far too easy.
The bartender sent you a knowing look, all too familiar with your games, before going back to mixing a drink.
Moments later, you felt the presence of another behind you, an overwhelming smell of tobacco and pine assaulting your senses. He was taller up close, taller than Dazai, at least, and older than you’d originally thought. Deep wrinkles weathered his skin, his eyes, and though there was still a hint of black in his dark hair, it was slowly being overtaken by the signs of a life that was twice as long as yours.
“Pretty dress.” That was the first thing he said to you, letting his eyes wander over your chest, lips curling into an ugly smirk. “It suits you nicely.”
You wouldn’t be won over so easily, so you merely smiled at him, nodding in thanks. Though, that had him coming on twice as strong, as if the simple eye contact that you’d made earlier had been a full invitation to fuck you. He took the seat next to you, signaling the bartender over.
“Let me buy you a drink,” he said, and though it was a kind proposition, it always made you laugh. You received a million free drinks from strangers here.
Still, you shrugged and let him, unsurprised that he knew what you’d been drinking earlier. It was a clear sign that he’d been watching you since before you even got up to dance.
“What’s your name?”
“Should I give it away that easily?” Your voice was silky in your response, unimpressed, but luring him in, nonetheless.
He laughed, and offered you his own instead, Tanaka, as if you didn’t already know it. You’d been planning on springing him into this trap since the moment he’d arrived that evening. It was a target and a plan that had been set in motion for days.
His grin was uncomfortable, but he thought so highly of the way his lips curled, seemingly luring you in.
In reality, you weren’t sure how any woman could stand to get down on her knees for that.
Half an hour passed as you talked with him, preening under his endless string of compliments, wishing that you could string him on for a little bit longer. You enjoyed the words well enough, just another thing to stroke your ego, but the minute he moved closer, you inched away, placing distance between you before he could touch you.
It was obvious it frustrated him, but one look at the flash in his irises had you knowing that he enjoyed the chase.
He droned on, careless conversation about hobbies you didn’t want to understand, and though you smiled, pretending to be interested, your focus drifted to the table where Dazai sat.
His conversation had shifted to Chuuya, the two other men from earlier gone. It seemed strained between them, sharp words spoken as they glared at one another, visibly at odds about something.
Despite the clear dispute, anger cleared away from their expressions within seconds, Chuuya straightening like a board beside his boss once again.
Dazai looked up; it was less than a second that your eyes met, but your knees had weakened, heart stuttering in your chest as it skipped a pulse.
A soft exhale left you, and you longed for Dazai, craved the feeling of his strong palm on your skin, the kiss of his lips on your neck. You had half a mind to say fuck the mission and walk right over to the table and plant yourself on his lap.
It would certainly cause a scene, especially when there were so many new customers there who knew about Dazai but didn’t know about you.
Still, you knew Dazai wouldn’t object. He’d merely smile into your hair and curl his hand around your hip, continuing on with his conversation like nothing was out of the ordinary.
You looked away. If you were to make it through the rest of the night, you couldn’t get distracted by the beautiful man just feet away from you. “Sorry,” you said, turning back to Tanaka. “What were you saying?”
His interest in conversation had already waned, and he faced Dazai, displeased by the uptick of fascination within your expression. “Found someone more interesting already?”
You laughed, shaking your head as you pressed your palms into your thighs. You may have longed for Dazai, been so desperate that you couldn’t spare him another glimpse, but you could still play this role well. There couldn’t be another slip, every move had to be precise.
“I’m just curious,” you said, puckering your lips in a pout. “He looks important.”
Tanaka took a sip of his drink as you spoke, nearly spitting it back out when your sentence concluded. His eyes were hard, narrowing at the sight of Dazai just meters away, surrounded by a security of sorts, “You don’t know him?” He coughed.
You frowned, tilting your head. “Should I?”
“That’s Dazai Osamu. He owns this place.”
There was room for a theatrical pause. You took that moment to pretend to think. “Oh, of course. What a silly question,” you said, humming, and set your chin down on your hand to glance back over at the table of Port Mafia personnel. “I hear he owns a lot of things.” You tilted your head, gauging the man with siren eyes. “Is that true?”
Tanaka huffed, but he didn’t deny it, looking down at his two-million-yen watch like it was nothing more than a trinket. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t worry about him.” He seemed irritated, though he didn’t let it show, his voice the only indicator that you had upset him. “But I can tell you it sure gets hard to run a business in Yokohama when the Port Mafia owns half the city.”
You widened your eyes, leaning forward. “You’re telling me the Port Mafia owns this place?”
Tanaka laughed, loud and haughty, looking at you like you were just a poor idiot from the countryside, even if the dress you wore cost just as much as his entire suit put together. “Oh, hon, if only you knew.”
The condescending tone sent a screech through your entire body, momentarily halting any proper responses in your current act. But he was unfazed, already moving onto the next topic of conversation, telling you all about the business dealings that you’d known about from the long list of jobs within his file.
There was, truly, nothing about him that you hadn’t already dug up. It was boring you immensely, but you smiled on, nodding enthusiastically as he spun the most lackluster story you’d ever heard.

Dazai, across the room, stared at you as you conversed, clenching his jaw at the way the man eyed you, the gaze that scoured your body like you were nothing more than a piece of meat.
Oh, he would certainly enjoy tearing him apart later, even if he would be too easy of a case to break.
“When are we leaving?”
Chuuya’s voice snapped him out of his onlooking, and Dazai leaned back in the chair, shedding the tension in his shoulders to resume a comfortable position.
“Not until they’re both in the car and I can confirm with Tachihara and Gin that she’s safe,” Dazai said, crossing his arms over the table. He couldn’t forget that there were others around him, those who would never say a word to him, but knew who he was, knew what he stood for. Even here, he couldn’t let his guard down.
“Safe?” Chuuya laughed, though it was without any humor. His irises flashed dangerously, steely grey darkening into a deep silver. “You trust that idiot not to lay a hand on her? He’s undressing her with his eyes.”
Chuuya seemed intent on irritating him that evening, as usual.
“I don’t trust anyone who comes here.” Dazai scowled. “Don’t be a fool.”
A moment of silence lapsed between them, and Dazai became sickened by the way the man was eyeing you. Though you took it all in stride, leaning just far enough away so his knee didn’t graze yours, and his palm didn’t brush against your own, it still lit a fire deep within him.
It was all the better, he supposed, to feel such deep hatred for his enemies. It made it easier to tear them apart without any guilt.
“How long are you going to make her do this, huh?” Chuuya spoke up once more from beside him, his voice nothing more than a grumble as he whispered down to Dazai. “This charade you two are carrying on has lasted long enough. I mean, you’re whoring out your wife for fuck’s sake—”
Dazai reacted without a thought, despite not wanting to take his eyes off of you for even a second. He gritted his teeth and turned on Chuuya, his hand gripping the gun in his pocket, finger tight on the trigger. Enough of a warning for him to know how sincerely the simple comment irritated him.
“Don’t ever insinuate that I don’t love my wife, Chuuya, or it’ll be the last thing you ever say.” Dazai spat the words out carefully, just under his breath, holding Chuuya’s piercing gaze without blinking. “You may be a valuable asset to the Port Mafia, but I will not listen to your opinions on matters that don’t concern you.”
Chuuya stared, setting his jaw before turning away once more. The two of them looked back to where you were smiling, leading the other man out of the room, though still not touching, placing a respectable distance between you.
“I’m just surprised, Dazai.” Chuuya leaned back, crossing his arms as he titled his head, watching your figure fade into the shadows. “You love her so fiercely, and yet, you watch as this carries on time and time again. I don’t understand.”
Dazai stood from the booth, tucking the gun back into his waistbad, under his coat. He straightened his shoulders, inhaling deeply. “I think you’re underestimating her if you truly believe she doesn’t have a handle on the situation.” His hands slipped into his pockets as Chuuya followed, grumbling from just a few feet away. “Besides, I’ve never forced her into anything. It was her idea in the first place.”
“Why?”
Dazai sighed, though it was almost wistful, the mere thought of you enough to turn him into a lovesick fool. “Perhaps it is because there are many men that seem to think they can crawl into her bed so easily, and she enjoys their humiliation when they realize that they are so far beneath her.” Dazai shrugged, and smiled lightheartedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Perhaps, she just wants to make everyone’s lives a little easier, including yours. You should thank her sometime.”

Tanaka sat beside you in the car, his hand lingering in the leather seat between his thigh and your own. Night had fallen deep across the city, the sky a navy through the haze of streetlights. Though it was nearing one o’clock in the morning, there were crowds of people out and about, lines at all of the much more affordable clubs in the area.
It hadn’t taken much to get him to come with you. You’d batted your eyelashes, smiled at him from under them, and told him you had a car waiting out back.
That was enough. When you’d pulled yourself down from the barstool, he’d followed after you, eyes blown wide as you’d begun leading him out of the room.
All it took was a dress that hugged your curves and a small grin, and he was in the car with a man that worked for you, heading to a building that your husband owned.
“Do you live far?” Tanaka asked, itching to put his hands on you, even though you’d convinced him to hold off until you got back to your room.
You placed your chin on the inside of your palm, glancing out the window at your own reflection. “Not too far.” You turned back to him, offering him a shy smile. “Why? Are you getting impatient?”
He grinned wolfishly. Your stomach churned anxiously at the sight of it, even when he was no match for you, nor all the other, powerful individuals that surrounded you. “I don’t think I need to answer that.”
Through the rearview mirror, Tachihara met your eyes, and they softened, just barely, silently showing his support from the front of the vehicle.
It was, in a way, a relief. You relaxed, regained a sense of composure, and let your ruby red lips spread over your teeth, cocking your head as Tanaka indulged himself in whatever fantasy was milling about in his mind. His eyes were cruel, though the darkness in them was nothing compared to what you were used to.
Idly, he made comments in your ear of all the things he wanted to do to you, his unpleasant breath tickling the skin there as you tried your best not to recoil. The smell of him was growing heavy in the car, overwhelming and nauseating. You sat even more stiffly, pressing Tanaka away with a palm to his chest as you giggled to yourself, pretending to enjoy his vulgar words.
Tachihara pulled the car around to the back of the building, letting the two of you out as he put it into park.
Any fool should’ve known where they were, what the dark building in the middle of the city stood for, but Tanaka was all too focused on you, intoxicated and inattentive. The mafia headquarters loomed overhead, dark, and unassuming, a triad of buildings stacked perfectly against one another.
“Thank you,” you said to Tachihara, winking at him as Tanaka turned his back, too disoriented to take in anything but the sight of you right before him.
The car drove away, then, and you were left to guide your guest into the building, towards the room that you had already planned to meet Dazai in. When you reached the elevator, Gin was waiting for you, dressed in female attire, this time, charading as a worker instead of the trained assassin that she truly was.
“Impressive building,” Tanaka said, as if not noticing all the obvious signs of the mafia base. “You must come from quite a wealthy family.”
You smiled at him over your shoulder, curious as to why he didn’t assume you’d come into the riches on your own. “I suppose you could say that.”
Gin opened the elevator, then began typing a message to her boss, alerting him of your arrival. Tachihara had taken the longest route back, giving Dazai just enough time to arrive home before you.
“Are you a renter?” he asked, staring as the numbers on the elevator increased, climbed higher while you went towards a floor that was only two below the penthouse.
“We own it.”
Tanaka turned towards you, eyes wide with surprise, perplexed even further by the alcohol running through his veins. “You didn’t say—”
Abruptly, he cut himself off. Whatever comment he was about to make was overshadowed by the fact that he’d met you at the Port Mafia’s night club. That was certainly no place for anyone that didn’t have a million yen to spare in their pockets.
Finally, the elevator dinged, and you relaxed at the sight of the familiar hall, the carpet that had recently been replaced, the paintings that you’d personally added, ones that had been purchased at an auction. There were traces of you everywhere, and though it belonged to many members of the mafia, it was, inherently, your home.
You grabbed Tanaka’s hand, realizing just how cold it was, wrinkled with calluses and dirtied nails. It took everything in you not to grimace as you pulled him towards the fourth door on the right, the one that had been used for every interrogation over the past two years.
It had become something of a holding cell for the mafia’s enemies, and most didn’t remain here long. You doubted that this man would be of any exception.
Tugging him along, you increased your speed, an invisible string guiding you right back to Dazai. He was your fiery beacon, and though you were still separated by walls, your heart thumped at being so near to him.
“Eager, are we?” Tanaka asked, and when he grinned in the lights, you realized how slimy it was, a hunger dripping off the edges of his yellowed teeth.
You smiled right back, but it was forceful, painful as it etched its way onto your cheeks. An itch started in the cracks of your palm, willing you to snatch it out of Tanaka’s hand and scrub it clean. Still, you held on, remembering that this was for the Port Mafia, this was for Dazai and everything you’d worked for over the years.Your determination increased tenfold. “It’s just around the corner.”
Finally, you reached the room where you knew Dazai would be waiting, and just like every other time you’d done this, every time you’d brought another willing victim into a den of wolves, you could finally relax.
You entered the room, not bothering to flip on any of the light switches. There was furniture, but it was dusty, bloody, and it would make it far too obvious that you were not leading Tanaka back to your bedroom. You didn’t want him turning tail too quickly, running when he discovered you had no intention of rolling around in the sheets with him.
He shut the door behind him with a quiet click, advancing on you like a hunter. It would’ve been threatening, intimidating perhaps, if you had not been able to sense Dazai on the other side of the wall. You knew that whatever control Tanaka thought he had on the situation had quickly evaporated, and it was only a false blanket of security that he’d wrapped himself up in.
“Can I get you anything? Maybe a drink?” you asked, stopping Tanaka with a flat palm to his chest, not allowing him to come any closer. “The alcohol in me is starting to wear off.”
He ignored your wishes entirely, upon you once more. One larger hand ripped yours from his chest, pulling you just another inch closer. “I’ve had enough tonight,” Tanaka said, teeth flashing in the dim starlight. “I’m dying to fuck you.”
You frowned, eyebrows wrinkling. “Well, I’d like a drink first.”
“I’m not in the mood.” He yanked on your hand again, and this time, you knew he’d kiss you, knew he’d plant the cracking pale lips of his own on yours. The thought of it made you ill.
Without thinking, you slung a fist across his face, a crunch sounding from his nose at the force of your hit. Blood trickled from one nostril, flowing in a fast stream over his lips, into his teeth.
He bent over, and you stood, straighter, staring over him as he cursed. The punch had been much more forceful than you’d intended.
“What the fuck.” He was angrier than before, and though his pain was immense, it did little to dissuade him. You kept your face hard, inching backwards as he stood tall, so much bigger than you’d remembered. It wouldn’t take much for him to lift you, throw you onto any surface he wanted.
You’d use your ability if you had to, kill the man if it was necessary, but that would mean the entire plan had gone to waste.
“You bitch—”
Without letting any fear cloud your face, you took a step back and bumped into something solid and warm. A cologne more familiar than Tanaka’s enveloped you in a safety net.
The older man made it one step further, aggressively, before every ounce of determination waned from his eyes. He staggered, tripping over himself and stared back at the man that had slowly come up behind you. The one that was brushing soft fingertips between your shoulder blades, his steady breath tickling the crown of your head.
Dazai smiled, in a way that was so menacing that your heart thumped twice in its chest before resuming its natural melody. Tanaka took a step back, scrambling away, nearly tripping over himself in the process, eyes dilated in fear.
“You,” he breathed. “Dazai—” Tanaka didn’t finish his sentence, too stunned as he stared between the two of you. “What’s going on?”
Dazai stepped forward, letting his hands fall away from you as he cornered the newest addition to his long list of enemies. Already, you missed the warmth of Dazai’s touch, the security that came with his proximity.
Tanaka cowered before him, suddenly so small, weak under the breadth of Dazai’s power. A sense of twisted satisfaction curled within you, lightning up every pore under your cold skin.
“I believe you owe my wife an apology,” Dazai said, and his tone was even, hard, not a hint of amusement laced within the words. Tanaka’s eyes darted to you, where you stood with your arms loose at your sides, eyes softer, every inch of you more delicate now that Dazai was in the room.
“Wife—” The word tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it, hesitant. “You said you didn’t know him. You asked me questions about him.”
You slid the ring back onto your finger, the one that you’d kept tucked away in the pocket of your bag. It glimmered in the beams of the moon, the diamond and rubies sparkling. “I can lie just as easily as a man can.” Crossing your arms, you sighed, and stared at Dazai’s taut back, the strained muscles in his shoulders as he stood over Tanaka. “You’re all so stupid sometimes. It only takes a simple question, and you never ask it. Anyone in that club could’ve told you who I am.”
He balked, considering his own ignorance, and followed your eyes back to Dazai, who had gone just a few steps behind you, to the small storage of top-shelf alcohol that you kept locked up in the room. “What is this about?” he asked, shaking his head to clear away his distress. “You’ve obviously brought me here for a reason. What is it?”
“I find it funny that you think you’re the one in control of the situation,” Dazai said, turning his back to fix himself a drink. He didn’t doubt that you would watch Tanaka for him with careful eyes. Even the smallest twitch of his eyebrows would be telling. “You don’t get to ask questions.”
“I haven’t done anything,” he said, and though his voice was hard, there was underlying panic. “I’ve stayed well out of the Mafia’s business, as promised—”
“Perhaps.” Dazai interrupted smoothly, coolly. “Our agreement wasn’t broken, per se. I just happen to think that working with outsiders is an act of much higher treason.”
Tanaka blinked, faltering. His jaw went slack, a mere second ticking before he replied. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t try to lie to me.” Dazai glanced over his shoulder, dark eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about Dostoevsky. The rats that are trying to take over my city.” He tsked, rolling the glass around on the counter, clinking it against the granite. Then, he popped a crystal bottle open, letting it fill a quarter of the glass. “Such a shame. You’ve built quite a name for yourself in Yokohama. Is this really worth losing all that?”
Tanaka stuck both hands in his pocket, shaking his head vigorously. His fingers flexed against his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who that is, I’ve never crossed anyone by that name.”
Seeing an opportunity while Dazai’s back was turned, Tanaka began to pull out a pistol from his coat; one you had, stupidly, forgotten to check for. It seemed he doubted that you were a threat, and if he could just kill Dazai, you’d be an easy target.
You moved without thinking, making the single-step distance between you and Dazai. There was a gun relaxed at his waistband, and you stole it, knowing exactly where he kept it hidden. Before Tanaka could point his own at the head of your lover, you’d acted first, aiming Dazai’s gun, your jaw tense and back straight. “Put it down.”
Tanaka, caught off guard, locked his jaw, and his fingers twisted tighter around the handle of the gun, inching towards the trigger. For a moment, he contemplated, but even without knowing the thoughts in his mind, you could read his actions.
You wouldn’t give him the opportunity to do as he wanted. Instead, you fired your own gun, digging the bullet into his fingers, shattering them, blood spattering as Tanaka dropped the pistol to the floor in a ghoulish scream.
For a second more, he writhed in pain at your own hand, once again. You held your arm taut, before letting the gun drop to your side as Dazai hummed behind you. Tanaka had fallen to his knees, tears welling up, his vision glossy as he dropped the maimed hand to his thighs.
Dazai came up beside you, smiling at you, and brushed his fingers down your arm. Slowly, he took the gun, placing it back into his waistband, his touch electric on every centimeter of your skin. “You’ve handled it beautifully, my love.” Dazai squeezed your hand, tilting his head so dark hair cleared away from his eyes. “I can take it from here.”
You nodded, and though Dazai was, by no means, pushing you out of the room, he could see how exhausted you’d become by the whole ordeal. If you wanted to leave—and you did—he wouldn’t object.
“Will you be long?” you asked, just a whisper over Tanaka’s heavy breaths of pain.
Dazai laughed easily, his breath ghosting the bridge of your nose. “Akutagawa will be here soon.” A touch lingered on your hands for a minute longer before he pulled away completely. “Then, I’m yours for the rest of the night.”
It was already late, but you’d take whatever time you could get with Dazai, even if you were drained. You nodded, and he turned away, going back towards his enemy, pulling Tanaka up roughly by his collar. Dazai’s expression changed into a man you almost didn’t recognize, if it hadn’t been for the moments that you’d had to see him shift into the underworld’s fearsome demon.
You left the room, yawning, Dazai’s voice the last thing you heard before you shut the door silently.
“Now that you’ve learned your lesson, perhaps you’ll be more willing to tell me everything you know,” he said.

Despite Dazai promising to leave once Akutagawa arrived, he’d been gone for nearly two hours, with no indication that he’d be returning anytime soon.
You waited for him in the penthouse of the Port Mafia headquarters, the home you’d come to know well in the past few years. A glass of imported wine was beside you on the nightstand, resting between a book you’d been too tired to read before bed.
You sat up, unable to fall asleep, and chewed your lip thoughtfully. It seemed ridiculous, really, for you to already miss a man that you woke up next to and fell asleep beside every night.
Still, you couldn’t help the desperation in your chest, the need to see him, to brush the mask of the Port Mafia boss away so Osamu could take his place.
You finished the wine, then headed towards the door. The room felt cold and lonely, and if Dazai wasn’t going to return soon, you’d just find someone else to bother on the lower levels of the building.
Though, just as you were about to slip on a pair of shoes, the door unlocked, swung on its hinges, and Dazai stepped through the threshold, a vision of gore and violence and every ounce the man you adored.
“Osamu,” you said, and even when you’d said his name a thousand times before, it still left your lips like a prayer. A smile formed, and you dropped your shoes, eyes sparkling, as you regarded the mess that he was in.
Dazai took one look at you and relaxed, shoulders falling as you closed the distance between the two of you. “Sorry it took so long, sweetheart,” he said, craning his taller frame down to kiss you.
You gripped the lapels of his coat, holding on tight as you pressed into him, deepening the kiss. Dazai’s bloody fingers cupped your cheeks, smearing red along your jaw, ruining your clean skin. Though, as you exhaled a sigh deep into his mouth, you couldn’t have cared less.
“I thought you said Akutagawa was going to take care of it?” you asked as Dazai released you, offering you a small, almost defeated smile.
He walked past you, towards the bathroom, feet dragging as he shrugged off his dark coat. Under the crisp top, his muscles were stiff, strained from all the stress. He wiped another hand over his face, doing little to clean up the mess of red that remained on his cheeks.
You followed him, trailing a few feet behind, feeling silly for wanting to cling to him so tightly. Yet, you couldn’t get enough of him, and you watched as Dazai remained silent, pausing in front of the mirror to regard his own appearance. He made a face in the glass as he gazed back into his own expression, sticking his hands under the faucet. The water ran in a steady stream, staining the sink a rose color as he scrubbed the blood from his fingers, his nails. There were parts of his bandages that had been soiled, and he ripped them right off, exposing pale wrists that hadn’t seen the sun in ages.
You mimicked his action, washing your hands in the second sink before scrubbing the blood from your face, clearing away the smear of maroon that he’d put there. The water shut off, briefly, and Dazai regarded you, frowning as you rid the evidence of his crime from yourself.
“I sent Akutagawa home.” Dazai finally answered your previous question and sighed, frustration evident. He stretched his hands over his head, the bones popping in one fell swoop. “Tanaka cracked right open; he really didn’t know anything.” He blinked at himself in the mirror once more, tidied his hair, then scowled. “He’s just a low man on the totem pole, and he paid for it with his life.”
Dazai seemed at odds with himself, and he drummed his nails against the countertop before patting his hands dry. The blood had been cleaned from his skin, and even though his hair was still unkempt, it was the only evidence that any wrongdoing had happened at all. Nothing but a speck of blood remained on his collar, the rest garnishing his coat instead.
You shifted, leaning against the counter. “Did you get anything out of him?”
“Names, a location.” Dazai clenched his jaw, fists tight at his sides. “He wasn’t lying, but who knows if they’re real or not. He could’ve been given fake locations. I’ve asked Ango to check on it.”
Dazai, once again, left you standing, contemplative, in the bathroom. You could hear him shuffle around in the other room; he released a small sound of relief as he stretched out his sore muscles.
When he’d finished moving around, you returned to the other room, and he was settled in the red armchair, legs spread out in front of him. Dazai rested his head against the back cushion, his eyes closed in serenity, a deep exhale expelling the tightness in his body.
It was almost a sight too serene to spoil.
“Do you want some space?” you asked, and though you’d always respect his wishes, that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You wanted to consume him completely, to press yourself against every crevice of his being and swallow him whole.
Dazai opened his eyes and blinked at you. Instead of replying, he smiled, slowly, and gestured to his thighs, sparing a glance at his knees.
Your heart pounded, launching its way up your throat, and you scrambled over yourself to crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, the muscle strong beneath you.
Gently, he smiled at you, and brushed your hair over your shoulder to rub your neck. You let your arms rest on his shoulders, and slowly, you removed the bandage from his eye, hating whenever he tried to hide any part of himself from you.
You waited for him to protest, but he relented, and let you kiss his forehead, the very darkest parts of himself on display for you alone. It was hard not to collapse under the weight of your love for him.
You discarded the bandages, tossing them onto the table as Dazai tapped a pattern in the crevices of your skin.
For a moment, neither of you said a word. You noted every feature of his that you loved so dearly, and Dazai just watched you study him, tried hard not to smile against your lips when you kissed him.
If only he could see how beautiful he was, surely, he would understand that he deserved a life so much better than the one he’d been dealt. That someone with a smile brighter than a dying star shouldn’t have it taken away by years of endless anguish.
Finally, Dazai spoke, whispering your name in a tone he never used on any word but that one. “You don’t have to do this anymore if you don’t want to.”
“Hm?” you asked, tilting your head, so distracted by the endless galaxy within his eyes.
Dazai huffed, placing a possessive hand on your hip. His thumb grazed the bone and you shivered, smiling at him in confusion.
“Sweetheart, I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re obligated to do something just because you’re my wife.” He looked past you, an uncertainty beneath his words that he was ashamed of. “If you don’t want to take on any more assignments—"
“I told you already, Osamu,” you began, brushing the hair at the back of his neck that was hidden beneath the collar. “I don’t mind.”
“I know, but—” Dazai hesitated, his gaze steady on the doors behind you, the ones that led to your bedroom. Somehow, he seemed to think all the answers would be there, a script written out for him to recite to you. “Chuuya brought it up to me earlier. He said that I’m…” Dazai swallowed the words, shaking his head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I just want you to promise me that you know if you want to stop, you can stop. Even if you wanted to quit the Port Mafia altogether, I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”
You smiled, kissing the wrinkle between his eyebrows in the hope that it would ease the anxiety in his expression. The tension was such an unusual thing for anyone but you to see, as Dazai had such trouble revealing his vulnerabilities to the world.
“I promise.” You swept your thumb over his lip, watching as it bounced right back into place, so soft and lovely. “I just don’t want to quit.” You leaned back on his lap, so you were able to see the entirety of his face.
Dazai’s eyebrows drew together once more, putting that worry right back on his appearance, and a part of you hated that of all the things he had to be stressed about, it was something as silly as you not wanting to quit your job.
“Why?” Dazai asked, tilting his chin, searching the depths of your soul for an answer that would appease him. “I don’t understand. You hate them; you tell me you hate them every time they try and lay a finger on you.”
He wasn’t wrong, certainly not about something like that. You loathed that men looked at you like you were something that they could just steal away, like they were entitled to the subtle way that they brushed your hip in passing, caressed your back when they walked behind you.
You just didn’t hate everything about the work you’d been doing. After all, it was your idea.
“I just don’t want to,” you said, looking over his shoulder to the open curtains, the bright expanse of Yokohama laid out before you. Twinkling star lights from skyscrapers and the port in the distance. “It doesn’t matter.”
It was your home, your city, and it always would be. You wouldn’t let Dazai die, wouldn’t let anyone take him from you—including himself. You’d continue to do whatever it took to protect that. Whether or not you used your appearance to achieve those ends didn’t matter. When it was all said and done, Dazai’s enemies would be dead, and you’d still have him to come home to.
“It matters to me.”
You shook your head, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. There were a million different ways you could’ve explained it, but none that were intelligent. “It’s embarrassing, ‘samu.”
Dazai laughed, a genuine noise, and kissed your shoulder as you sighed, relaxing into him once more. “I can’t think of anything about you that could possibly be embarrassing.”
You held his gaze, wishing for him to relent, to just give up and let you have this one. Instead, he just smiled back patiently, hoping you’d reveal another part of yourself to him as he slowly traced your hard collarbone.
Those pools behind his eyes were too distracting, the thumb on your neck dangerously close to your throbbing pulse. You swallowed, letting him feel every movement as your throat bobbed up and down.
“I guess,” you said shyly, “I like it. I like leading on your enemies, letting them think that they could possibly have a chance with someone like me. I like the look on their faces when they realize they’ve been made a fool of, that the girl who they wanted so badly belongs so completely to the boss of the Port Mafia.”
Dazai studied you for a moment as you shrugged the revelation off, his deep brown eyes darting over every crevice of your face. “You want to make them jealous of me?”
“Maybe.” Your cheeks heated, and though you’d been together for years, loved him for even longer, you still shied under the weight of your own desire for him. “I don’t know. Maybe I just want them all to know that I’m as much the boss of the Port Mafia as you.” You wound your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him, the only person you’d ever need in the dangerous world. “They’re blind to their desire, and they refuse to see that I have complete control over them.” You smiled, lazily, fondly. “Don’t they know that this is my city, too?”
Dazai’s strength made an appearance then, and he gripped your cheeks, holding you with a spiraled mix of possession and affection. “It is,” he whispered, ghosting his lips across your own, “and I’d burn it all down before I let anyone take it from you.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest at his deepened tone, the seriousness that drew on his normally playful inflection. You grew hot, and a twist of desire started deep within you, spreading down easily, slowly turning your thoughts into a muddled mess.
“I know,” you said, trying to keep your words steady as Dazai drew lazy circles up and down your sides. “Everyone knows.” You met his eyes, soft, yet dark, clouded with a longing you weren’t unfamiliar to. “The woman who brought them to their knees is still nothing more than a simple fool for Osamu Dazai.” You inhaled drawing your fingers to his open collar, the crisp bandages around his chest. “What could they ever do to deserve that kind of devotion?”
Dazai waited, watched your smaller hand run across his neck, his smirk slowly growing on his lips. “I’m a lucky man, indeed,” he said, drawing the words out slow and lazily. He tipped your chin down to him, his smile displaying the almost sharpened points of his canines. Slender fingers caressed your hipbone, pressing you farther down onto his thigh.
You let out a small sound, not taking your eyes off of his as his expression grew wily, and the slip you wore slowly began to rise up your thighs, exposing the softer skin of your leg.
“I admit, I can’t stand that everyone in this city wants you so fucking bad.” Dazai sunk his lips to your neck, kissing the space between your shoulder and jaw. “But I can’t blame them. My beautiful angel.” He smiled under your jaw, gripping your hips harder, forcing you to drag against his thigh. A puff of air left your throat as Dazai grinned, spiking your arousal. “It’s for the best, isn’t it? I’ve ruined you for anyone else.”
Your eyes flashed; Dazai bounched his leg, just once, his eyes shining, every move calculated. He’d always known exactly how to touch you, and he’d never forget, never stop enjoying the way you jerked so easily under his palm, the way you were already trying to rub yourself against him.
“Osamu,” you began, desperate for just a moment of friction, to feel his rigid muscle drag against your cunt. You wanted him so badly that your heart stumbled over itself, all the love you held, locked up there and looking for a way out.
He made a sound of disapproval, holding you still with a tight grip on your hips. His fingers dug into the bone, but it did little to ease your aching need for him.
“See?” Dazai’s kisses were light as he whispered against the shell of your ear, the sound nothing more than a breath of air. “I barely have to touch you and you’re a whimpering mess.”
You swallowed, tugging at the hair at the base of his scalp, trying to remain steady, if only for him to give you what you wanted.
Dazai seemed to be in a generous mood, worn from the previous mission, and he was grinning lazily, two fingers slipping under your dress.
His grip loosened, and you shifted, letting him pull on the strap of your panties, drag them down your thighs, over your knees, to discard beside the chair. Already, there was evidence of your desire, a spot of wetness obvious against the red satin.
He let the garment hang between his fingers before he looked back at you, watching as it softly fell to the floor. “If only they knew how easy it was to get you wet,” he said, shrewdly, “they’d want you twice as much as they did before.”
You let out a soft whimper, trying to direct his beautiful hands back between your thighs. Though, Dazai kept his fingers away, and in an act of desperation, you pressed your forehead to his, conveying every ounce of your affection for him.
“Osamu,” you breathed, blinking into his warm irises, a shade of brown that had easily become your favorite. “I’m so crazy about you.” You kissed his cheeks, smearing your lip gloss all over the skin he’d just wiped clean. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. Everyone in Yokohama watches me, but I ache for you.”
His eyes flashed, pleased, and he relented, nudging his thumb to the inner most part of your thigh. The smile was still mocking, but he gave you at least some relief; Dazai let you sink back down on his thigh, the pressure just enough to have you clawing your nails into his chest.
He kissed your nose, but kept you where you were, perched on the middle of his leg and much too far from his cock. “What would you ever do if I wasn’t here to take care of you, hm, darling?"
You softened; even if his gaze was taunting, there was utter devotion between his dilated pupils.
All those men who fell for your act may have been complete fools, but Dazai was even worse off than them: he was a fool in love.
“It’s so hard not to crawl into your arms every time you’re around,” you admitted, grabbing the buckle of his belt to undo it with a clank. The mere sound, the feel of the leather between your fingers, nearly had you salivating. “I’m stronger than a lot of men in Yokohama.” Your features contorted then, eyes vulnerable as you looked up at him through delicate lashes, no longer a vision of authority, but of someone who desperately wanted to be taken care of. “Not you, though.”
Dazai’s grip on you relaxed, and something in his eyes shifted, lips parting as an exhale left them. He said nothing as you removed the belt, and instead, let himself sink deeper into the cushion, bearing your weight.
Hastily, you pulled down the zipper of his slacks. The weight of his heavy cock in your hands was so familiar. You stroked him gently, watching for any reaction, and while his face remained steady, you could sense the change in his heartbeat.
“I don’t need you to be strong around me,” Dazai said. His voice had deepened, your name leaving his lips, raspy by the end of his sentence. “You can fall apart if you want to, my love.” His erection grew slowly in your palm, and he brought you closer, your bare, soaked cunt dragging against his thigh. “I’ll always be here to put you back together.”
You smiled, flushing as he hardened, his breath growing uneven. When you had him leaking within your palm, you shifted forward on your knees, grinning at his reddened cheeks. Dazai’s eyes drifted towards your chest, just inches from his face.
Uncertain, you hesitated, even though you wanted him, needed him with every fiber of your being. It was an unfamiliar position. He could take control of the situation at any moment, but you weren’t usually the one looming over him.
“Osamu—”
“What?” he released with a sigh, and in one swift motion, lifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. “You walk around my nightclub in those dresses I buy you, force those pretty tits into other men’s faces, but now you’re too shy to fuck your husband?”
You made a face, knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of you, and if only to prove a point, you sunk down on him, your folds slick. Dazai slid into you easily, a sinful noise breaking the silence between you as he grinned. “I’ll f-fuck you,” you stuttered, swallowing under the heat of his watchful eyes. “It’s just…” Your words failed again as his cock went deeper in you, your focus entirely on your own pleasure.
“Just what?” He stopped you for a moment, planting you on his thighs, his cock still straining, filling you. Glaring, vibrating with need, you opened your eyes, lips parting as he whispered against your mouth “Finish your sentence, sweetheart.”
“It’s not my fault, Osamu,” you said, on the edge of a whine, squirming within his hold. “I can’t help that they stare.”
He laughed, then, and it was just a brush against your swollen mouth, the one he kept coming back to. “They can stare all they want,” Dazai said, tilting your chin up. “As long as they know who you belong to.”
Finally, he let you go, his hands tracing the edges of your knees, and you started a slow, steady pace, gasping as you held onto his neck tightly. He bowed his head into your collarbone, and kissed you once, before leaning back lazily, watching you take and take and take.
“Doing so good, angel,” he said, watching you with such a passion that it was distracting, as he let his palms rest simply on your thighs. “You always look so pretty stuffed full of my cock, don’t you?”
“Feels so good,” you muttered.
“I know.” Dazai seemed too devilish with his dark hair fanned out against the red chair, grinning in a way that twisted up your insides, sweat beading down your forehead as you tried to reach your orgasm.
You were hot with his piercing gaze upon you, but he didn’t bother to move his hands, did nothing to even pretend like he was fazed. You sunk down faster, heart racing, as the muscles of your hips strained, burned. Already, you were growing tired, sleepy from a full evening, but still so desperate to come around him.
You leaned forward, trying to angle your body, gain some relief from the position. Though it did little, and instead you were left sighing in frustration, wishing that he would do anything, instead of just look at you with a lust blown smile.
With every moment, the pain began to grow, the ache in your legs far too much to give way to pleasure. You started back at Dazai, frustrated, eyes glossy with need.
Dazai laughed at you then; it wasn’t quite mocking, but it wasn’t kind either. “Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”
Frustrated and impatient as you dripped down your own thighs, you grabbed his throat, thrusting his head into the back of the chair.
Dazai, eyes wide with surprise, stopped smiling as you curled your hand around his neck, his fingers digging into your thighs.
“Are you just going to sit there, Osamu?” you said, your words high-pitched and desperate. “Or are you going to—”
The end of your sentence was cut off by him gripping the back of your hair, smashing your lips into his own. The hand on his neck fell away, drifting to the lapels of his bloodstained collar, as he brought you down hard on his cock, hitting a place deep inside you that you hadn’t been able to reach with your own strength.
Dazai’s fingertips left bruises on your skin as he devoured the inside of your mouth, bringing you down over and over, stretching your walls with each movement.
“So pretty and desperate for me,” Dazai laughed, but he was breathless, his own tenacity crumbling from adoration. “Can’t do anything by yourself, can you, baby?” His kisses were sloppy as he dragged them across your neck, tongue grazing the sharp vein under your ear.
“No, but you said—” you were losing your breath and your words. “You said you’d take care of me. I don’t want to cum all on my own, ‘samu.”
Dazai groaned, his gaze drifting down to the space between your bodies, where you were sucking him back in, your own body aligned with your heart, never wanting to let him go.
“Fuck,” he said, slamming you back down on his thighs, his eyes hazy with love. “Of course I’ll take care of you.” One hand guided your hips as the other curled around your jaw, setting the pace with half his strength. “You’re my whole world.” His words stuttered, aching cock twitching inside you. “I’m nothing without you, understand?”
You nodded, but you weren’t quite thinking straight, the words a jumbled mess when they entered your mind. “I love you,” you said, gasping the end of his name. “I love you, Osamu, need more.”
Dazai breathed, just as heavily, softening as he regarded you. He’d always loved the look on your face as you came apart. “You take it so well,” he said eyelids fluttering over hazy eyes, and he kissed your forehead. You dragged your hands all over his chest, just wanting to touch any part of him. “Wish you could see yourself. You’re so beautiful.”
You groaned, pulling him closer, until there was nowhere left to go, surrounded completely by Dazai; the smell of him, the taste of him. “Say it back,” you muttered, “say you love me too.”
He choked on a laugh, and the lewd sounds of your wet arousal were loud as he came in and out of you. “I love you, angel, you know how much I love you.” Dazai kissed you, then, and your heart sped at how hoarse his voice had become, how easily it was for you to make the most powerful man in Yokohama fall apart at the seams. “You’ve got a pretty ring to prove it, don’t you? I don’t want anyone but you. I never will.”
“Come inside me.” Your eyes squeezed shut as his cock reached impossibly deep within you, stretching you, your legs shaking as you tried to ignore the dull ache within your tense muscles. Tears sprang to your eyes, coating your lashes; it was almost devastating how much you loved him. “Please. Feel so full, ‘samu.”
“Yeah?” He reached between you to play with your clit, and you were so close, crying out a broken moan as he touched you. “Need to remind everyone that you’re my girl, hm?” He knew just how you liked to be touched, how easy it was to get you to come when he fucked you like you needed. “Want me to put a baby in you next, sweetheart? Shit.” He curled his fingers, bruising your mouth as he stole the oxygen from your chest. “Everyone would know then, wouldn’t they? How could they doubt you’re mine when you’re carrying my child.”
You cried out, then, breaking, spasming around his cock as you fell onto his chest. Dazai said your name, kissed the top of your head, but you were too full of love for him. You breathed heavily as he brought you down once more, twitching against him from the ache in your sensitive cunt.
A moment later, Dazai jerked, then came inside you, spilling his warm cum against your folds, the white ropes dripping down your thighs, staining his dark, wrinkled slacks. Slowly, he pulled out of you, letting you rest on his chest as you breathed, your legs sore. A gentle touch ran up and down your spine as Dazai wrapped his arms tight around you, his cheek resting against the top of your head.
“God, you’re perfect,” Dazai said, and his voice sounded almost broken, devastatingly emotional. “You can’t ever leave me, okay, angel? I need you right here by my side.” Lips grazed your temple, so sweetly, gently. “What’s the point of all this if I can’t share it with you?”
You smiled, resting your head in the crook of his neck, eyes full of tears as you kissed him. “I’m not going anywhere, Osamu. I promise.”

KINKTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST
tag list: @satohruu (hannah i planned this one bc of your tags on my last pm dazai fic HDSFHSFH) @cha0thicpisces
#dazai x reader#bsd x reader#osamu dazai x reader#dazai osamu x reader#dazai smut#bsd smut#bsd x you#bsd x female reader#dazai x fem reader#bsd x y/n#osamu dazai x you#osamu dazai smut#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you#bungo stray dogs smut#dazai x reader smut#dazai x you#osamu dazai imagines#xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚。⋆#♰ theatre of vampires#xoxo rylie 💌 ⋆ ˚。⋆
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Lay All Your Love on Me (Homelander x Reader)
Summary: A communication breakdown has unintended consequences, but it’s all because Homelander loves you.
Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This is based on a request from @judyfromfinance and the ABBA song which is so Homelander coded. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Jealousy, possessive behavior, violence (not toward the reader). We love miscommunication for plot reasons here! Do not interact if you’re under 18.
Homelander had no reason to believe you were hiding from him. Your job kept you busy, and ironically enough, working for the same company didn’t guarantee that you’d see each other nearly as much as he’d like. When his texts went unanswered and he couldn’t so much as hear you during the day, though, his mind went into overdrive presenting him with every worst case scenario it could possibly conceive of.
Cheat. Cheat. Cheat.
His gloved hands balled into fists at his side. You would never cheat on him. He knew that. He did. But sometimes, it seemed like your heart didn’t ache for him the way his did for yours. You had a life outside of him, and as much as you tried to include him in it, he resisted. Things would be easier if it were just the two of you.
Trying your phone again, he called you, frustrated when it went straight to voicemail.
“Hey babe, it’s me. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Give me a call back as soon as you can. I love you,” he said, adding a quick. “Call me back" for emphasis.
He groaned, throwing his phone aside and folding his arms over his chest. It was fine. He didn’t care that much anyway. At least that’s what he told himself as he glanced at his discarded phone every few seconds in hopes you’d call or text back. No dice.
As a last resort, he headed to the crime analytics department. You managed a small team of analysts who consulted with the state and federal government on Vought’s behalf. The two of you had met when Vought was trying to get supes in the military, and as far as Homelander was concerned, it was love at first sight.
Never mind that it took a few weeks to win you over, frustratingly committed to your job and hesitant to date a coworker. Even though he’d hardly consider the two of you coworkers. Sure, you both worked for Vought, but that was it as far as he was concerned. In his determination to woo you, he’d made some valuable connections in your department. At least, people who he knew would have some kind of scoop on you when he needed it.
“Hey Annika,” Homelander said, startling the young crime analyst as he approached her desk. “How’re you doing, pal?
“Hi Homelander,” she said, not quite able to keep eye contact with him. “Sir. I’m good. H-How are you?”
“You haven’t seen Y/N around today, have you?”
She shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Alright,” he said tensely, a painfully fake smile spreading across his face. “Keep up the good work.”
His smile faltered as he heard your name come up in a conversation on the other side of the room. A masculine voice, younger than his, far too much mirth for his liking when he spoke about you.
“Dude, I was in Y/N’s office for like an hour yesterday. I could barely concentrate. They are so fine.”
“You’re insane,” someone else laughed.
“What? Have you seen them?”
“They’re dating Homelander, dumbass.”
“Whatever. It won’t last. He and Maeve will get back together, and yours truly will be there to pick up the pieces.”
“If you say so.”
Homelander hadn’t noticed his eyes glowing red until Annika squeaked. Letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, he looked at his…acquaintance.
“See you around,” he said, his chipper tone clearly strained.
Since you weren’t answering your phone and he still had no clue where you were, Homelander had all the time in the world to wait around for your sleazy subordinate to take a bathroom break. He wondered if you were aware of the man’s interest in you. It was a possibility, but he had to assure himself that you wouldn’t do anything to encourage it. He knew you wouldn’t bother with a miscreant like that, of all people, but the point needed to be made. No one could speak so vulgarly about you and expect him not to do something about it.
Fifteen minutes or so had passed, and Homelander spotted his name badge. Josh.
“Hey Josh! You have a minute, buddy?” Homelander asked, voice booming through the hallway, causing Josh to flinch. Homelander smirked a bit.
“Homelander! Is there something you need?”
“Yeah, actually, I just have a question about the crime analytics office.”
Josh nodded. “Sure, anything.”
“Did you see any Greek letters in there?”
“Wh-What?”
“Did you see any Greek letters in there? Maybe a keg and some drunk idiots wearing togas?”
“I don’t—“
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then why were you in there talking about my partner like you were in a fucking frat house?” Homelander asked, cornering the slimy analyst. “You know Y/N and I are dating, right? Your idiot friend told you as much.”
Josh’s mouth flopped open and closed like one of the disgusting fish The Deep crusaded for. “I—I didn’t mean—“
“So either you’re incredibly stupid, or you have a death wish. Which one is it, buddy?”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Homelander.”
Homelander chuckled, empty and hollow, reveling in the way he could practically smell the fear radiating off of the man in front of him. “You will be.”
With the way Josh was carrying on, Homelander would’ve thought he’d actually killed the guy. All he’d done was snap his arm and throw an elbow to his nose. He’d just bought the asshole a free rhinoplasty, far more generous than he deserved after what he did.
Homelander sneered at the blubbering crime analyst, work shirt covered in his own blood. Pathetic, really. And he had the audacity to act like he was worthy of you. Throwing one final glare Josh’s way, Homelander walked off, wiping the blood off his gloves and onto his suit. It could be dry-cleaned out.
The outburst made him feel better than he had all day, though it didn’t answer the question of where the hell you were and why you weren’t answering him. Besides, he swore he heard the familiar sound of your footfall in the lobby.
He supposed you wouldn’t be too happy if you came back to see one of your subordinates brutalized in the hallway. Just his luck, he spotted an intern in one of the unoccupied offices.
“Hey,” Homelander said, pausing a moment to read the intern’s badge, “Sammy, there’s a mess over by the crime analytics office, can you get someone to clean it up?”
“Sure,” Sammy responded cheerfully.
“Thanks, it’s the little things that make this place run. You’re doing great,” he complimented, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder.
Sammy returned his smile, obviously not questioning his sincerity. Homelander knew if he framed the whole thing as a favor, she’d be more likely to follow through. It was always good to have reliable people in his back pocket for things like that, worker bees who thought they were friends or something. She walked off, strides purposeful as she set off to complete her personal mission from Homelander.
Rushing over to the elevator, he listened for you, getting out on the fifteenth floor where he saw you just as you walked out of the bathroom.
As soon as he made eye contact, he melted, making a beeline for you.
You smiled, wrapping your arms around Homelander. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Where were you?” he asked, almost painfully returning your embrace.
“I told you I was presenting for the security council at the UN all day. No phones, remember?”
He huffed, releasing you from the hug. Fuck. “I guess—maybe that rings a bell. You shouldn’t tell me something so important while I’m distracted.”
“How much did you miss me?” you teased, holding up your pointer finger and thumb to pinch the air. “This much?” You spread your fingers wider. “This much?” Wider again, except before you could ask, Homelander scooped you up in his arms.
“Why don’t I show you?”
“Please do,” you said, tilting your head up to kiss him.
He retreated into the elevator with you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate kiss laced with longing. You giggled at him. You’d only been gone for a few hours, yet he was acting as though it had been days.
You missed him too, resolving to focus your attention on him for the rest of the night.
Until your phone rang.
“I should get this.”
“Now you’re able to pick up a call?” he grumbled, setting you down.
“One minute,” you whispered, grabbing your phone, “then I’m all yours.”
He pressed the button to his suite, having forgotten to do so in the heat of passion. “You better be.”
You picked up your phone, amused at Homelander still clinging to you, kissing your neck. “Hello?”
“Josh from crime analytics?” you asked, tensing a bit when Homelander grazed his teeth on the crook of your neck. “I haven’t heard from him since he gave me the homicide report yesterday.”
Homelander hummed against your skin, and you let out a whimper only he could hear at the way it vibrated through you. He was smug, and it took you a moment to piece together why.
“Okay, talk to you tomorrow,” you said before hanging up. “What did you do?”
“Something chivalrous to defend your honor,” he mumbled, his lips unrelenting on your shoulder as he pulled your shirt down to expose it.
“I guess I should thank you properly, then? My knight in shining armor?”
He lifted his head, grinning, “If you insist.”
#homelander x reader#homelander x you#the boys x reader#the boys amazon#the boys tv#the boys#homelander
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
More yan Poseidon and Zeus? Pretty please 🥺👉👈
I'M ALIVE
Odysseus's sibling offering themself to Yandere!Zeus and Poseidon ♡
CW: mdni. violence on reader. permanent disfigurement (eyes gouged out in poseidon's, body changed in zeus's) of reader. objectification of reader. implied non-con/dub-con.
Poseidon
Because I like music, we're going to go with their songs.
So, why don't we get started with good old Ruthlessness?
You see, you care for your brother deeply. And Penelope. And above anything, your precious nephew, Telemachus. So the very risk of them getting hurt... the risk of Ithaca getting destroyed...
You couldn't just let it happen. But, on the other hand, you understood Poseidon. His son was blinded, and then the man who hurt him boasted about him, going as far as to give him his name.
And so, you decided to risk it all and speak up, calling out the God's name. You ignored your bother's protest as you walked to the railing and spoke up with a shaky tone.
"Lord Poseidon, I beg you to spare my brother and his crew. I understand your loss, the suffering Odysseus caused to your son. Allow me to offer you a way to make it even. Family for family. I will offer myself to you as payment for the harm that came to your child."
And as skeptical as Poseidon was, seeing the pure anguish and the desperation in Odysseus's face as he tried to stop you did convince the god to take you up on your offer.
And so, by his order, you took a deep breath and let yourself fall into the water, losing consciousness almost instantly. You felt yourself drown, but you didn't die, somehow.
You awaken in Poseidon's underwater palace, his servants gushing over you, helping to change your clothes and mess around with your hair from the very second your eyes opened. You didn't really even realize what happened until they were done with you... and when he entered the room, looking at your body, blue material draped on your body in a mockery of a dress or a robe, with seashells and pearls made into jewelry.
You expected him to hurt you. And he will, but he also wanted you to be a nice, pretty little trophy... Once he makes it even.
And eye for an eye, right? Or in this case... Two eyes for one eye. It only seemed fair to him, to make his cold grin the last thing you saw before he pressed his thumbs into your eyes, blinding you.
And as tempted as he was to leave you to die somewhere, he decided to continue the punishment. Just like his son, you would live.
Forever his slave, stuck near him, forced to listen to the god who took away your sight, like your brother took his son's. A precious little toy, just for him.
A toy, just for him. One that he grows dangerously fond of, over time.
And what's the harm of having such a precious, dependent toy warm his bed? Not like you had a choice, after all...
Zeus
And since I'm still feeling musical, this one's gonna happen during Thunder Bringer. Also because we don't really have any other good point for this to happen with him but SHUSH-
Either way, Zeus is pulling his very questionable moves with the Cloud Maiden he created. And while it's clear his words are meant for your brother, you notice the god glancing at you every once in a while, when his hands were on a particularly intimate region of the faux-woman. And you could've sworn his grin would get just a little bit wider.
And so, as he gave Odysseus the ultimatum, you decided to take the risk and attempt to protect your brother and what little men there were left of the crew. And so you stepped forward, calling out to the god before your brother got to say a word.
"King Zeus, my brother and his crew have committed a horrible crime, but I'm sure there is some way to convince you to spare them, in all your wisdom."
You could see just how amused your plea made him. He was clearly messing with you as he dramatically pretends to think it through. But finally, he declared that just this once, he'll show mercy, as long as you go with him, as a sacrifice of sorts.
Despite your brother's protests, you go with the king of gods. In order to hide you from Hera, he leaves you on a small island and steals a trick from Poseidon, surrounding it with a storm to keep you out of Hera's sight. At least for now.
At first, he only visits you occasionally, just so he can have some fun with you. And with each meeting, you felt... different. Your body would feel... light.
And you only realized when it was too late, hearing Zeus throw an off-handed comment about clouds to you as he gets dressed after one of his visits.
The last thing you remember before passing out is the God's shit eating grin.
As you awoke, if it could even be called that, you couldn't feel your body. It felt as if... you were just... there. With no way to move or speak.
Until your body moved on its own. Far too lightly, far too smoothly, as if you were a puppet. And in a way, you were.
No longer human, just a puppet made from clouds, now forever stuck by his side, alongside all the other conquests he turned into clouds, just like you.
Except you were special. Very special. Glued to his side, pretty much, forced to sit on his wide shoulder or his lap... even being kept as a third in the bed he shared with Hera, much to her displeasure.
Let her be displeased. It's not like she could do anything without evoking Zeus's fury.
And nobody wants the Thunder Bringer furious.
#ask#anon#epic musical#epic the musical#epic#epic the musical x reader#epic musical x reader#epic x reader#epic zeus#epic poseidon#epic zeus x reader#epic the musical zeus x reader#epic the musical zeus#epic musical zeus#epic musical zeus x reader#epic poseidon x reader#epic musical poseidon#epic musical poseidon x reader#epic the musical poseidon x reader#epic the musical poseidon
254 notes
·
View notes
Text
jump then fall (into you) | part 2

banner by the talented @jimilter 💖

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader
genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut
word count ↠ 52k (pt 2. 14k)
18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., protected sex etc.
summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

note. i hope you're enjoying! ☺️ don't forget to interact please + here's a few songs that inspired me and this story (more at the end too!): photograph — ed sheeran i think i fell in love today — kelsea bellerini where are you now — lost frequencies & calum scott 3:15 (breathe) — russ words — alesso & zara larsson jump then fall — taylor swift

part 2

🍉 note. while I have your attention, I would like to divert it to those in palestine as israel commits war crimes against them. Innocent men, women and children are being tortured, degraded, displaced and murdered endlessly — it is a genocide and we are all complicit if we do nothing.
as a minimum, please donate to legitimate organisations + boycott the big 3 — starbucks, disney and mcdonald’s — as well as others. feel free to message me for more information and/or donation links, thank you <3 🇵🇸

You know what he wants you to say, but as you feel his fingers around yo, all you can think of is how wrong they feel — they’re not as long as the ones you’re most familiar with, not as calloused on the palms or soft from the back. Every moment with Jungkook from the past few weeks buzzes through your mind and it all starts to make sense – you’ve always known Jungkook makes you happy but you never thought about why…
Looking up at Lawrence, you nod slowly. “Yes,” you say, softening the words in the hopes it softens the blow.
It’s a quiet confession, not only because you’re pretending to date Jungkook, but because now you’re no longer sure if your heart is open to anyone else besides him.
Lawrence smiles, releasing a small breath he’d been holding. “I had to ask,” he chuckles.
You’re sure his cheeks are turning pink but with the dim lighting, you can’t be sure.
Lips pursing, you nod.
There’s another moment of hesitation from him, then he kisses your cheek once before stepping back.
“I’m glad I asked though, I’d probably regret it forever if I didn’t,” he adds, eyes gleaming as they look over your face.
You manage to smile despite feeling bad and a little awkward now — it’s not every day someone confesses to your face like this. “It’s okay, I get it.”
Just while your mind races to find an excuse to leave now, Lawrence’s gaze shifts to behind your shoulder and his eyes suddenly widen, face going somewhat pale. You turn around, eyes following his line of sight and when you see who’s standing there, you’re sure your expression mirrors Lawrence’s.
Jungkook and Alias stand more than a few feet away by the staircase towards the upper decks, but it’s not hard to see their expressions from here.
Alias purses his lips and looks at Jungkook before he shifts his weight awkwardly. But it’s Jungkook you’re focused on. His expression is blank and he just stares at Lawrence and you.
How long has he been standing there? Why isn’t he doing anything? And why do you only now realise how close you and Lawrence are still standing while holding hands too?
You let go, stepping back abruptly too but you know it doesn’t make a difference.
Jungkook's lips curl into a curt yet polite smile before he turns and disappears around the corner.
What the hell is happening?
Jungkook and you aren’t even dating for real for this to be a problem so why on earth does it feel like you’ve actually done something so wrong?
The guilty feeling in your chest grows as you stand still, still looking upon where he was.
“I’m so sorry,” Lawrence apologises immediately. “I can go talk to him, it was all my fault.”
“No it’s fine,” you shake your head, managing a smile. “I should talk to him, don’t worry.”
He nods and you walk away before he can say anything else.
“Walk with me?” you say as you approach Alias.
He nods, falling into stride beside you. “What was that about?” he asks, nodding back in the direction of Lawrence.
“Um, he told me he likes me, or at least did,” you wince.
“Ah, that explains it.”
You shoot him a look. “That explains what?”
Alias hesitates. “Well, he looked like he was about to kiss you.”
Oh gosh. “But he wasn’t!” you exclaim in a hushed whisper. “I wouldn’t do that!”
“I know!” Alias exclaims too, “But it still didn’t look good. I’m assuming that’s why Jungkook just left.”
“You think he’s upset by it?”
“Well what else could it be?”
Sighing, you slow down.
Alias looks at you confused. “What’s wrong?”
“What am I doing?” you ask rhetorically, thinking out loud.
Raising his brows, Alias points down the corridor. “Finding your boyfriend to explain what’s happening?” he says almost sarcastically.
“But that’s just it, he’s not actually my boyfriend so why did he walk off? And why do I feel bad about it?” You feel like you sound a bit helpless but at this moment you don’t actually care, at least not with Alias.
It’s confusing — first you find yourself having all these weird moments with Jungkook, then Lawrence tells you he likes you only for you to realise that maybe you actually do like Jungkook, and now Jungkook walking off like this…
Could he actually be upset by this?
Alias’s expression softens and he places his hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “I think you know why.”
You frown, lips pouting. “What are you trying to say?”
He chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. “I’m not saying anything. You’re figuring this out on your own.” He pulls back and takes your arm in his as he walks slowly down the corridor again. “Now, what are you going to say to Jungkook?”
His question is met with silence, but he doesn’t push any further as you take the time to think.
You’re well aware of what Alias is trying to say to you but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to acknowledge it — more like you don’t know how to acknowledge it.
Maybe you do like him? Or maybe you’re just confused? It could definitely just be lust, or even just loneliness as it has been a long time since you’ve last been with anyone. Or maybe all the pretending has gotten to your head? — that’s definitely a plausible reason for the way you’re feeling.
Although, it really doesn’t feel like it. There’s a reason pretending to date Jungkook comes so easily to you. Being with him is natural to you because you’ve always felt like you belong together; now you realise you’ve been feeling that romantically not just platonically. Having been so close to him for so many years has created a safety blanket around you, one that you can’t imagine living without and most definitely can’t ever replace. Even the thought of coming on this trip without him felt so wrong. There must be a reason why it doesn’t feel surprising to you that at some point, your feelings crossed the line from friends to something more.
“I don’t know,” you groan quietly. “This is so weird, what does someone say in this situation?”
Alias actually takes a moment to consider this. “Actually,” he starts, pulling on your arm to stop walking. “You need to be sure of how you feel before you say anything.”
He’s right.
“Take some time,” Alias says. “Maybe just address what happened with Lawrence for now?”
You nod. “Okay, I’ll just tell him what happened.”
“Yeah, do that,” Alias nods too. He looks down the corridor but makes no move to walk any further with you.
Your cabin is only a few doors away so you hug him goodbye, and after he wishes you good luck, you make your way towards it.
Clearing your mind, you focus on the simple goal for now. Just let Jungkook know that there’s nothing between Lawrence and you — what he saw isn’t what it looked like.
Tapping into your room, you feel your heart race a little faster as your nerves rise. Jungkook isn’t anywhere in the cabin but you can hear water running in the bathroom.
Taking a deep breath, you mentally scold yourself to get it together. Some of your clothes from earlier in the day are still scattered on the bed so you decide to at least clear these away while you wait.
It isn’t long until you hear the lock clicking and Jungkook walks out of the bathroom.
You look up to see him patting his face dry with a towel. He’s already dressed for bed and you note that he’s wearing a top this time.
When he sees you, his face shows no surprise or even much emotion at all. He simply nods and averts his gaze almost immediately. “Hey,” he says, tossing the towel into the laundry basket.
“Hey,” you respond quietly while keeping your eyes on him.
He walks over to the bed and starts picking up some of his own mess. If the situation were any different, you wouldn’t really think anything was wrong by the way Jungkook is acting. But you know Jungkook.
For starters, he never folds his clothes neatly before putting them away. He usually just roughly puts them together and hides them away somewhere, yet here he is, laying out a shirt and folding the sleeves with much focus.
“Um, Jungkook…?”
He looks up immediately. “Yeah?” There’s no irritation or anger or anything else in his expression. Just the usual concern you’re used to seeing on his face whenever you call him.
“Are you okay?” you ask, feeling stupid as soon as you ask it.
“Yeah, of course,” he answers, shrugging as he resumes folding his clothes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Turning away to put your clothes in the drawer, you frown to yourself. You know he knows why you’re asking — him walking off like that wasn’t normal and now him acting like nothing’s happened…
“So,” he says, clearing his throat. “You and Lawrence…”
There it is. You turn to face him again. He’s still looking down as he folds his clothes but you don’t need to see his face to know he’s not looking forward to the answer.
“You like each other?” His voice is steady but you can hear the quiet reservations that come with it.
“No,” you answer immediately.
He pauses for a second and you expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. He only nods and carries on putting his clothes away.
You tell him everything. “We bumped into each other during the game because I was kind of confused about where to go after me and you split up. We just started talking and it came up that I used to have a crush on him way back in high school, and as we spoke…” you watch Jungkook carefully, still unable to see his face as he stays looking down, “… he just ended up telling me how he used to have a crush on me when we were growing up and it apparently never really went away.”
It’s now that Jungkook finally looks up. He has a small smile on his face — not a smirk, not anything to show you it’s anything other than a genuine smile despite it not being his usual smile that meets his eyes.
“So Lawrence likes you then.” He says it more surely, as though he’s just reaffirming a fact rather than asking a question.
You hesitate. “Well, yes, he does but he knows I don’t like him.”
As his smile fades a little, Jungkook raises a brow. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you say, feeling something heavy begin to weigh down your chest.
Jungkook considers this. His gaze is steady as he looks at you from across the room, looking for any clue that might suggest otherwise to him.
The longer he stares, the more you feel the weight on your chest. You don’t like this — you don’t like that Jungkook could even think for a minute that you like anyone else. Since high school, you haven’t had any real feelings for anyone and as Lawrence made you realise, it’s all because of Jungkook.
“Jungkook?” your voice comes out coarse and quiet.
He looks away, jaw shifting as he now chooses to roughly fold his clothes together. Then —
“I think we should stop the whole dating thing, it was my fault so I’ll tell whoever I need to tomorrow.” He says it clearly and decisively. “I don’t wanna hold you back, you should give Lawrence a chance.”
With a scoff, your brows knit together and you frown at him. “I just told you, I don’t like him.”
“He was your high school crush for years, you’ve always wanted this.”
He says it so nonchalantly now and it makes you angry because you know just moments ago he was upset because of this. Sure, he didn’t say anything, but Jungkook is your best friend and you know him more than anyone else.
“Well not anymore!” you blurt. “Why don’t you believe me?”
Jungkook looks at you and immediately you can recognise the small signs of him feeling hurt but he does well to disguise it as best as he can. “I saw how you looked at him that night, Y/N. It was pretty clear how smitten you were, anyone could see it.”
Immediately, you’re confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Cartagena,” he responds, almost despondent. “You came out of the venue together and it was clear from your face that you were over the moon to have him there.”
Now you remember… and devastatingly enough, you realise Jungkook isn’t wrong. You remember how you felt when you initially bumped into him — it was a childish kind of excitement when seeing your crush but that’s all it was. Seeing him just brought back memories and that small part of you came out because it had been so long but since then you know there’s been nothing.
Jungkook, however, wouldn’t know that. You realise that you must’ve looked how he’s describing and gosh, you can’t even imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.
Before you can ever try to find the words to explain how you feel, a knock sounds at the door.
Jungkook is the one who answers it since you’re still too caught up in your thoughts.
You even remember how you’d stupidly been flirting with him right in front of Jungkook, you pretty much called him ‘tall, handsome and mysterious’ when you were supposed to be “dating” Jungkook–
“Lawrence.”
You turn immediately at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. Sure enough, Lawrence is standing there in the doorway looking exactly as he was when you left him.
“Uh, hey,” he says, nodding awkwardly as he glances between Jungkook and you.
You just stare at him blankly. This really doesn’t help you right now.
“Hey,” Jungkook says with a smile, resorting to his usual politeness. “What’s up?”
Lawrence hesitates, still glancing between you both. “Sorry, I was thinking about whether or not I should come but I figured the sooner the better… uh…” he looks down, clearly feeling bad. “I just had to apologise, I told Y/N about how I felt and that was inappropriate and stupid of me when she’s with y—“
“We’re not together.”
Lawrence looks up and at the same time, your eyes snap to Jungkook.
If you thought him saying that was harsh, the blank way in which he says it hurts even more.
“We never were,” Jungkook says. “Y/N just agreed to help me out by pretending to be my girlfriend because my ex is on this trip.”
Lawrence’s face changes from confusion to surprise to realisation within a few seconds. But you’re not looking at him.
Your focus is solely on Jungkook. You can’t clearly describe what emotions you’re feeling. There’s a bit of everything — it hurts, that’s for sure, but you’re also angry at him for so rashly telling Lawrence and you can’t help but feel betrayed.
Pretending to date Jungkook has been nothing but easy for you and these past few days have taught you it’s because there’s probably a huge part of you that wants this. For Jungkook to just end it so suddenly makes you feel like he doesn’t want you the same way you want him.
You wonder if it’s naive to think he wants you back, but you do. Alex has told you countless times, heck all the Cirillo siblings have made a remark or something about Jungkook and you at least once every time you’ve met. Even Lawrence has seen it apparently. Though, none of this necessarily means it’s true.
With the silence in the room, Jungkook looks at you. He holds little emotion in his face but the way his lips are pursed tightly tells you he’s holding back something.
“Uh,” Lawrence glances between you both, “I’m gonna go. Sorry again for everything,” he adds in a mutter. He closes the door as he leaves and you’re left alone with Jungkook.
“Why would you do that?” you ask as soon as the door clicks.
“Because he likes you. I’m not gonna stand in the way of that.”
Your expression falters. Fuck, it’s been a long time since you last wanted to cry but you’ll be damned if you let him see you. Steeling yourself, your jaw clenches.
Despite your best efforts, of course, Jungkook still notices. His own steely expression softens and he almost says something but then stops. For a second, you think he might apologise and even tell you something you want to hear. But he doesn’t.
“What am I supposed to do?” Jungkook asks softly.
There’s a hundred other things he could do but he chose this — even after you’ve told him how you feel about Lawrence.
“Fine,” you flare. “Tell everyone.” Without another glance at him, you walk past him to the bathroom and slam the door shut.

It’s only after a quick shower and some much needed TLC, that you come out of the bathroom.
Truthfully, you didn’t expect Jungkook to still be in the cabin, but it doesn’t make the feeling in your chest go away when you see he’s not there.
There’s so many questions going round and round in your head that it hurts. You trudge across the room, slipping into the bed and finding solace with the comfort of your silk sheets that still smell of Jungkook.
Everything Alex said to you at the start of this trip keeps replaying in your mind — you want it to be true, and sure most of the time it feels true too. But with the way this past hour has gone, you can’t help but doubt it.
If Jungkook really liked you, he wouldn’t have told Lawrence the truth, would he? It doesn’t make sense, why would he? He should’ve wanted to have kept it up the same way you do. Pretending to date Jungkook is as close as you’re getting to the real thing and that’s something that you’re sure that you want.
Now though, you don’t even have that.
It’s not exactly something you can blame Jungkook for. There was no reason for him to keep it up, especially if you haven’t told him why you want to.
Maybe you should tell him now though?
No. That’s too scary. Sure, you want him to know, but the idea of him not feeling the same way is way worse than anything else. Plus, what if he starts to feel uncomfortable around you, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if he felt that way.
Releasing a heavy sigh, you sink further into the bed and close your eyes.
You shouldn’t say or do anything else until things go back to normal. That’s the best thing to do.
With your mind made up, you try to fall asleep but it proves to be more difficult than normal. With every minute that passes, you wonder where Jungkook is and what he’s doing. It’s only been 15 minutes but you’re already deciding whether or not you should message him.
It’s always been like this with Jungkook — your arguments never usually last longer than a day and most times you settle them straight away.
This feels different.
The sound of the door clicking open simultaneously relaxes you and raises your heart rate.
As Jungkook makes his way across the room, your heart decides to do all kinds of acrobatics. Inwardly, you curse at yourself for not realising your feelings sooner.
You can hear the sound of his shirt being pulled off as he changes into his pyjamas. A moment later, he’s carefully moving the covers back on his side of the bed as he gets in slowly so as not to wake you.
Moments pass in silence and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but then…
“Y/N?” His voice is barely above a whisper and just like that, your heart jumps again.
Instead of responding, you turn around to lie on your back. As you lower your hands to your side, you accidentally brush his hand. Reflexively, you move your hand to rest on your stomach instead.
Noticing this, Jungkook turns to look at you. You’re sure he can’t see you very well in the dark but with the white of the ship’s exterior safety lights coming in from the gaps in the shutters, it’s still easy to see fairly well.
For a brief moment, he doesn’t say anything and you don’t turn to look at him. Then, he looks back up at the ceiling too.
“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding deflated.
It hurts you to know he’s feeling bad about something that isn’t even his fault. If it wasn’t for the way you’re feeling, you wouldn’t care about him telling Lawrence and you wouldn’t have argued with him for him to be apologising now.
“It’s okay,” you respond quietly, finding it too hard to find the words to say anything else.
“No, it’s not,” Jungkook sighs. “I shouldn’t have done that without asking you, especially since I made you do it in the first place. This whole thing was stupid, I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“You didn’t make me do anything,” you mumble as his last words play over in your head – this whole thing was stupid. “It was Alex.” Does he really think it was stupid? It never felt stupid to you, it just felt right.
“Yeah, but it’s because of me it happened and I could've stopped it.”
“I didn’t mind…”
You feel lame saying it because the real reason you didn’t mind is because it was the closest you’d get to dating Jungkook, but you say it because you don’t want him to feel bad about any of it.
“I know,” he says softly in understanding. “I think it’s just best to tell everyone it wasn’t real.”
You haven’t experienced anything like this before – there’s a heavy feeling in your chest trying to fight its way out. It’s causing the lump in your throat and you can’t tell if you want to cry or just tell him the truth right here, right now.
But you don’t. “Okay,” is all you say.
He must hear something in your voice – he’s attuned to every frequency of yours and the emotion that comes with it, just as you are with him. You know how sad you sounded just then and undoubtedly he’s picked up on it.
He looks at you, trying to analyse your features in the dark. Then, his hand moves and you feel his palm closing around yours, pulling your hand between your bodies to rest on the bed with your fingers intertwined. “Again, I’m sorry.”
You’re looking at him too now. Have his hands always felt this warm? Have they always fit into your own so perfectly?
“I know, it’s okay,” you answer, still fighting that feeling in your chest.
His brows knit together. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Gently, he squeezes your hand and his features relax.
That feeling in your throat pushes harder and you realise you want to tell him. Maybe it’s because it’s dark right now it seems easier to let the truth out, almost as though it’ll stay a secret in the dark.
“Also,” he says, voice suddenly softer, “for what it’s worth, I think Lawrence is an amazing guy.”
All other thoughts come to a halt in your mind and you swallow hard. “Why are you saying that?”
Jungkook looks back up at the ceiling and when he talks, it’s a little quieter than before. “Just, I know how you used to feel about him and if he feels this way about you now, well, it could be good for you,” he adds with a shrug.
You’re unable to mask the frustration in your voice. “I already told you,” you say, “I’m not interested in him.”
Jungkook looks at you again with his brows furrowed in concern. “I know…” he hesitates with a sigh, “I just…”
“Forget it,” you mutter, pulling your hand free from his. “I’m going to sleep.”
Jungkook says nothing as you roll over with your back to him, and you say nothing else either.
The feeling in your chest has subsided but it’s been replaced with another feeling, more like an ache which you’re determined to sleep away.
It feels almost impossible as your thoughts stream endlessly through your mind, each and every one about Jungkook and the words that you’ve left unsaid. But somehow, at some point, the thoughts slip away as the weariness of the day takes over and you finally fall asleep.

It’s hot.
Jungkook pushes you hard against the wall, his thigh parting your legs as he grabs your waist tight. His breaths are heavy as his nose skims your neck, teasing you before he settles in the sweet spot behind your ear.
You’re just about managing to hold yourself up though if it weren’t for his grip on you, you’re sure your knees would give way.
There’s barely any material separating you from his thigh and you’re desperate for some friction down there. With your arms around his neck, you rock yourself against him to find some much needed relief.
You’re moaning and Jungkook chuckles, a sweet deep sound that makes you want more, and he gives it to you as his hand slips between your legs.
Gosh it’s hot.

It is hot.
That’s the first thing that your barely conscious mind picks up on.
It’s the middle of summer–you don’t know why you can feel the weight of the blanket on you. You dimly remember getting under it when you got into bed but normally you always stick a leg out or something before going to sleep.
You try to move your leg now to push it past the covers and out into the cool air, but it doesn’t budge.
Something is in the way.
Still half asleep, you try again as you think it’s just the covers tucked under your leg — only now you realise that’s not the cover, it’s another leg and it’s not yours…
You didn’t realise something was missing when you were falling asleep a few hours ago. Why would you? You were completely preoccupied with other things to have remembered it.
It’s now that you come to your senses and realise what’s happened — you forgot the pillow.
You forgot the pillow as a physical boundary between Jungkook and you, and now the exact thing you wanted to avoid is happening.
Jungkook’s warmth surrounds you from everywhere. His breath is gentle and quiet by your neck, his chest close to your back and his legs are somehow tangled with yours. His arm is draped over your frame, hand resting comfortably by your stomach.
What’s most obvious to you though, is your ass tucked comfortably against him, no doubt right against his crotch.
Fuck. This is simultaneously a dream and a nightmare. It feels so good to be this close but you know it’s so wrong, especially after the actual dream you just had which given your situation now, explains why you’re still feeling so needy down south.
You try to shift slightly again but it doesn’t work — Jungkook sighs softly in his sleep, leg moving to rest on top of yours.
Great. Now you’re actually stuck like this.
Eyes closing, you try to think of what to do but as you run it through your mind, you come to the conclusion to stay exactly as you are.
How bad can it be? With the sun shining through the cracks in the blind, you can tell it’s probably 10 am so all you have to do is pretend to fall asleep again, Jungkook will wake up very soon, he’ll realise and then he’ll just move away. Then it’ll be as though nothing ever happened.
Besides, it really does feel so good to have him holding you like this. Sure, Jungkook hugs you a lot and in general is pretty affectionate with you but this. Having him softly breathing down your neck as he sleeps comfortably with you in his arms — it’s a feeling that satisfies something you never knew you needed.
The only problem is it’s more than a little difficult to fall asleep when you can feel the hard outline of his little friend down there. Fuck, life is really testing you right now and it really doesn’t help that your pyjama bottoms are silk so you can feel a lot more of him than expected.
Groaning internally, you try to scoot away once more but it doesn’t work. Not only that, you actually didn’t just groan internally but out loud. You almost clap your hand over your mouth when you feel Jungkook shift behind you once before going still again.
Except this time, you can’t feel his warm breath on you for a second… then it comes back, but this time it’s different. You’ve spent enough of your lifetime with Jungkook to know that he breathes heavily when he sleeps and right now, he’s no longer asleep.
You’re not quite sure what comes over you, maybe it’s the heat getting to your head, or maybe you’re emboldened by the fact that Jungkook is awake and he hasn’t moved away from you… ever so slightly, you push your hips back against Jungkook’s crotch.
A sharp intake of breath from behind you confirms exactly what you wanted to know.
You do it again and this time, Jungkook reciprocates in kind. You can feel him even better now and the hard outline of his dick pushing against you makes you let out the softest whine, barely audible but with Jungkook so close to you, there’s no doubt he heard you.
Fuck. You feel almost dizzy and you’re certain that you’re not thinking clearly right now – this is Jungkook, your best friend… you try to remind yourself of that as you wait for him to do something more, but the only thing that repeats in your head is this is Jungkook. Jungkook, the man you love and adore so much and right now you can only think enough to know that whatever is happening right now, you want it.
With bated breath, you wait for what feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds, then Jungkook’s hand slides from across your stomach to hold your hip.
“Y/N?”
His sleepy voice so close sends a swirl of excitement through you.
“Yes?” you answer in a breathy murmur.
“I…,” he whispers, barely audible. His hand slides up your side, stopping below your breast.
You can tell he’s hesitating to move further so without hesitation, you roll your hips against him which elicits small moans of pleasure from both of you and in response, Jungkook’s hand begins to move again and you’re anticipating the feeling of his strong hands grabbing on to you where you want them so bad–
Knock knock knock knock knock. “Sleepy heads, what time do you call this?!”
– Only to be interrupted by the one and only Alias.
Immediately, Jungkook withdraws and moves faster than you can even process. He’s out of bed and throwing on the closest hoodie just as you turn around, still catching on from whatever the hell just happened. Despite the dark lighting in the room, you can tell he’s flustered from the look on his face but goddamn he looks so cute with his messed hair and you could not be more annoyed about being interrupted right now.
He pauses, turning towards you and just as your eyes meet, there’s the loud knocking again followed by Alias yelling whatever it is he’s saying.
You’re more focused on how Jungkook is looking at you to comprehend anything else. In this split second, he looks like he has a thousand things to say but not a single thing comes out of his mouth except…
“I’m sorry.” He says it so fast that in the seconds it takes you to realise what he just said, he’s already at the door letting Alias in.
“You’re not even dressed,” Alias says the second the door opens and he sees Jungkook. “And you’re not even up,” he says as he sees you. Shaking his head, he walks over to the blinds, completely unaware of the tension that is still heavy in the room between Jungkook and you.
You glance at Jungkook again to see him looking at the floor but it’s as though he can sense your eyes on him because he looks up and your eyes meet for the second time. You’re sure your expression must mirror his – flustered, somewhat guilty, but mostly just confused.
You know why you’re confused – in the last few days you’ve come to the realisation that your feelings for your best friend are more than just platonic and this happening makes you wonder what the hell Jungkook is thinking… is he feeling the same way as you? God, you can only hope… Or is he repulsed by what he’s just done and is completely regretting it now?
“Honestly, Y/N, I’m actually surprised that I’m up before you,” Alias continues as he rolls up the blinds. “You’re usually the responsible one. And Jungkook, you know we were supposed to meet at nine, it’s almost 11 now and we’ll be arriving tomorrow morning and we were supposed to meet with Alex this morning to go through the plans for the weekend, did you forget—?“ Alias pauses mid sentence, turning to look at you with a frown.
For a second, you think he’s caught on to everything, but thankfully, it’s not that.
“Why do I sound like my parents?” He shudders, looking at Jungkook too. “I must be getting old.”
Both Jungkook and you laugh, albeit awkwardly. This, however, doesn’t go unnoticed by Alias. His frown changes to something more curious as he looks between you.
You expect him to say something about it but he doesn’t.
“Well, Jungkook, he’s still waiting to speak with you, he’s already briefed the other guys.”
“Right,” Jungkook nods, now avoiding your gaze as he grabs his clothes. “I’ll just get ready, I won’t be long.”
“Cool,” Alias says, taking a seat in the armchair by the window. “I’ll wait for you then.”
As soon as Jungkook has disappeared into the bathroom, Alias turns to you. “Did you tell him?” he asks immediately.
Still slightly befuddled, you frown. “Huh?”
“Last night, you said you weren’t gonna say anything about how you feel but why are you both acting so different?”
“Oh.” All of last night comes back to you in an instant. Lawrence confessing, your conversation with Alias and everything else that happened with Jungkook after. “No, I didn’t,” you pause, brows knitting even further together before you look at Alias. “But I think he might know anyway.”
Alias’s brows shoot upwards. “What makes you think that?”
Because he was just feeling me up in bed and if you hadn’t walked in it seemed like it would have gone further. Well, you absolutely can’t say that.
“I don’t know.”
Frowning, Alias moves to sit at the end of the bed. “Are you okay?” He reaches forward and puts a hand on your knee.
“Yeah,” you nood, smiling as you take his hand to reassure him. You’re sure you must look like a bit of a mess, not only have you just gotten up but your mind and pulse is racing from what just happened with Jungkook – whatever it was. “Could you just give us a minute though?”
“Sure,” Alias answers, getting up right away. “Just text me if you need anything,” he says. “I’ll be waiting on the deck for you guys.” He stops by the door, turning around. “But Alex is still waiting for Jungkook too.”
“We won’t be long,” you reassure him with a smile.
He nods once more before leaving the room.
You’re left with only the noise of your thoughts and the shower running in the bathroom. You can feel your pulse racing as you push the covers back and get out of bed. It still feels so hot in here so you find the AC controller and blast the cool air to help calm yourself down as you try to process what just happened.
What did just happen? Were you and Jungkook really about to do something? Just thinking of it sends butterflies swirling down south but they’re quickly sent off track when you ask yourself what on earth it means?
You know why you were okay with it all happening… if you didn’t have feelings for him, you would never have let it happen, but you do, so you didn’t stop it. Is it the same for Jungkook? The idea of Jungkook liking you is far from foreign – Alex has always been trying to tell you but you just never believed it… this, however, has you in two minds.
Or, there’s also the other more plausible reason. Jungkook woke up and realised his hard dick was enjoying the fact that there was another warm female body in such close vicinity to him so naturally, he made his move and you didn’t object so he went along with it. You’ve had your own small share of experiences with friends who you ended up doing more with without any feelings involved and so has Jungkook, maybe he just thought that’s what this was… God, even just the thought of that hurts.
The bathroom door clicks open and your head snaps up.
Jungkook walks out still scruffing his hair dry with a towel. He’s dressed casually for the day but he still looks as good as ever to you. He pauses after a few steps when he sees Alias has gone and slowly, he lowers the towel and looks at you.
You feel small because you’re so unsure of where you stand with him right now. Pressing your palms with your fingers, you try to relax and think clearly but it’s hard when your heart is pounding in your chest and wants nothing more than for him to confess he has the same feelings as you do.
Still, as you look at Jungkook, it seems like he feels small too. His fingers are squeezing the towel as he switches it between his hands and he hesitates, starting to say something before he stops.
You so badly want to say something, anything, but you have no idea what. How do you start? Can we talk about what just happened? Did you like it? Do you like me? Because I like you, a lot. Gosh, if only it was that damn easy.
“Um,” Jungkook starts but looks away from you. “I’m sorry about what happened…” He loosely points to the bed.
Startled, you just stand there for a moment. He’s sorry?… “You’re sorry?” you repeat.
“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“So, you weren’t thinking about what you were doing…?” you echo, starting to feel like a stupid parrot. He regrets it, of course he does.
Jungkook blinks, somewhat confused but you don’t blame him. You’re asking for clarification for selfish reasons – you need to know if he thinks what just happened was a mistake because it was far from a mistake for you.
“No…” Jungkook hesitates, his face rounding as he looks at you. You’re sure he can tell you’re upset by what he’s saying. “Were you?” he asks.
“No.” It’s not a lie – you really weren’t thinking about what was happening, just that you enjoyed it.
As soon as you say it, you’re sure you see Jungkook deflate. Did he want me to say yes? No, that doesn’t make sense, he said no first.
“Right, yeah.” He clears his throat as he fiddles with the towel again. “I’m sorry it happened, I wouldn’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable.” He says it with such sincerity that your chest tightens.
“I didn’t feel uncomfortable.” The words come out before you can even stop them but you want him to know that, you’d hate for him to feel bad about something like this when it’s far from his fault that you let it happen just because you like him and wanted it to be something more.
Jungkook’s expression is the same as before, eyes rounding and there’s that barely-there pout to his lips as he asks, “You didn’t?”
“No, I didn’t.” Shit, what are you saying, Y/N? You can hear the blood rushing through your ears and you start to feel sick. “But… it wasn’t supposed to happen?” You mean for it to come out as a question but you have no clue if it did.
“I, no,” Jungkook clears his throat again and he nods. “It was just a mistake then, it won’t happen again.” Now he looks away from you completely as he goes and puts the towel into the laundry basket.
Suddenly, you feel yourself on the verge of breaking. How can he be so composed right now when you feel like you simultaneously want to shout at him to tell him how much he means to you, and cry endlessly because–does he really not feel anything for you?
“Alias is waiting for you upstairs,” you say, walking past him to go into the bathroom. “I’ll meet you later.”
You leave no time for him to respond but just before you close the door, you catch a glimpse of his confused doe eyes and just like that, your heart sinks again.

“Could it really be?” your dad pretends to rub his eyes, blinking a few times as his face morphs into a grin. “Our daughter is here to grace us with her presence, I don’t believe it.”
Your mom laughs, gently patting your hand as you sit down between them.
“Ha-ha, very funny dad,” you deadpan, throwing him a grumpy look.
“I’m only kidding, honey. I’m just glad you’ve decided to join us for lunch.”
“Of course,” you shrug. “I’ll even make your plates, what do you want?”
Your dad throws your mom a look. “Our princess is spoiling us today.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you head over to the buffet table to prepare two plates for your parents with everything you know they like. Just as you turn back to return to your table, you catch Jungkook watching you from across the balcony.
He’s on a table with Alex, Sophia and a few others. Meeting your gaze, he gives a small smile before looking away. Gosh you never knew a smile could hurt so much.
Ignoring the pang in your chest, you return to your parents and slump into the seat.
“Where’s yours?” your dad asks, already reaching for a sandwich.
“I’m not that hungry,” you mumble, taking a strawberry and biting into it.
Not so slyly, your parents exchange glances. They choose to say nothing for the moment, making small talk as they enjoy their lunch.
Once your dad is on his second cup of coffee, your mum takes your hand and squeezes gently. Looking up, you take comfort in the smile you see on her face. You know that both your parents are aware that there’s something on your mind – it’s why you’ve chosen to sit silently in their company while they have their own light hearted conversation. You also know that their advice is usually unparalleled to anyone else’s and right now, you could really do with some of their wise words.
“Is there anything you want to eat, honey?” your mom asks.
“The fruit is fine,” you answer quietly.
In response, your dad piles all the fruit into the plate in front of you while your mother gently continues probing.
“You’ve lost your appetite then… that usually happens for a reason, hm?”
You don’t say anything and she continues.
“Would it have anything to do with Jungkook?”
The rounded eyes you give your mom must give it away immediately as she lets out a small sigh.
“How could you tell?” you ask.
“He came down ten minutes before you,” your dad answers, “he normally always waits for you. Not to mention the funny look you gave each other just a little while ago.”
Sighing, you slump further into your seat. “We got into an argument last night,” you admit, feeling like a five year old again.
It seems so stupid to say out loud, especially because you don’t think you can bring yourself to reveal the real reason the argument feels as bad as it does – the reason being your feelings for him – but you don’t really care about feeling like a kid when it’s your parents. They’re the only people you can be this vulnerable with and at times like this, you want their comfort and company the most. You would love to tell them the whole story but there’s no way you’re telling them what just happened this morning so you go with everything else.
“It wouldn’t be the first,” your mom says, still holding your hand as she takes it into her lap.
“No, but this felt different…”
Your mom hums, gently playing with the bracelet on your wrist. Neither she nor your dad say anything, waiting for you to continue on your own.
Closing your eyes, you let out part of the truth. “Lawrence told me he likes me.”
Your mom’s fingers pause briefly before she continues twisting the charms between her fingers. Looking up, you catch your parents exchanging glances, most definitely surprised but they’re subtle about it.
“He told me last night and I made it clear it wouldn’t work… but I think it looked different to Jungkook and he just kept telling me I should give Lawrence a chance even though I told him I don’t want to.”
“That’s what you argued about?” your dad asks.
“Mhm.”
“Lawrence telling you that…” your dad pauses momentarily before continuing, “how did it make you feel?”
“It was weird,” you admit. “I used to have a big crush on him.”
“Oh, we know,” your mom says with a smile.
Despite it being in the past, it still feels so embarrassing — you were such a wide eyed 16 year old with a fat school crush that even your parents noticed.
“But I don’t now,” you mumble, cheeks warming as you keep your head lowered. “I told him that and I guess I felt kinda bad too. It’s been a while since we left school.”
Your father hums in agreement. “That’s a long time to like someone,” he says, head cocking as he looks at you knowingly.
“I know.”
Squeezing your hand, your mom takes over. “And what about Jungkook?”
“Well, when I told him, he was insisting I should give it a try.”
“That doesn’t seem like such a bad thing to suggest,” your dad shrugs. “I’d say the same thing, after all, you said it yourself that you liked him before and Lawrence is a good guy.”
“Yeah but I don’t now,” you reiterate. “I thought Jungkook would know that.”
“You’ve been single since you left college, Y/N, there’s absolutely no reason for him to think your heart is elsewhere…” he pauses, patting your leg, “unless you tell him.”
“Huh?” You look at your dad but he’s already looked away, a smirk on his face as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“I, what would I…?” you sputter, looking at your mom and seeing the smile on her face, you fall quiet.
So much for trying to keep this a secret — if your parents know then you wonder if anyone else knows. Although, of course no one else knows you as much as your parents and here they are telling you to tell Jungkook how you really feel but it’s still so nerve wracking to you.
There’s so many times you can think of that would make you think he likes you as much as you like him, but then there‘s also that voice of reason in your head that tells you you’re reading into it too much. Jungkook doesn’t like you romantically as much as you wish he would.
Chin lifting, you get up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, “but thanks for the chat,” you smile, giving a quick kiss on the cheek to both of them.
“Darling, you’ll regret it if you don’t,” your dad says as you’re walking off.
“No idea what you mean,” you call out with an airy wave of your hand.
Walking across the length of the deck, you steal a glance in the direction of Jungkook only to see he’s no longer there. Looking around, you can’t see him anywhere. Resigned, you find an empty table that’s out of sight from everyone you know and slump into the chair to be alone with your thoughts.
No one knows you better than your parents, not even Jungkook and if they’re telling you to tell him then you can’t argue that there’s a big part of you that agrees and even wants to tell him. How would it feel to have Jungkook as yours? Sure, you have him more than anyone else right now — you share everything together, the good stuff, the bad stuff, and all the days in between…
It’s something you’ll forever be grateful for because if you can’t have all of Jungkook then you’ll take the little things whenever you can. Still though, you know it’s not the same when all you are to him is a best friend; his response to what happened this morning completely confirmed that to you. In some ways, it hurts more than anything else knowing that as his best friend, you’ll be there when he eventually does find someone to call his own and fuck, even just the thought of that hurts like a bitch.
Who knows if you’d even still be friends when that happens? It’s only natural that he and whoever he chooses would become closer than ever and you’ll just be that childhood friend considered to be like a sister…
“You’re moping.”
Turning around, you see Alex standing with his hands on his hips.
“And you’re interrupting,” you grumble, slumping back into the seat.
“Nope, come on, I’m not having this,” he says, coming right behind you and holding your head to look up at him. “The wedding is in three days and you are not going to spend it like this.”
“I’ll be fine for the wedding, I promise.”
Narrowing his eyes, Alex lets go and sits down next to you. “What about tomorrow?”
Tomorrow night is Thalia’s hen night and Alex’s stag night. The cruise will arrive at Porto Cheli around dawn tomorrow and most guests will be escorted to various villas rented out by the Cirillo’s. Meanwhile, you and a few close others, including Jungkook, will be arriving at the Cirillo family home. A grand estate which given its enormous size, will accommodate the tradition of keeping the bride and groom parties separate until the wedding on Saturday afternoon.
Thalia has never been much of a party-goer so she’s choosing to keep things simple with a fine dining evening although you’re sure Sophia has planned for strippers and booze to appear at some point during the night.
“I’ll be fine,” you repeat, plastering on a smile.
“I know you can fake it for everyone else but I actually want you to have a good time, Y/N,” he says, putting his arm around you.
Your smile turns into a genuine one. “I will, of course I will, it’s your wedding weekend and I’m so happy for you.”
Alex grins. “Thanks, I know you are.” He lets go and turns his chair to face you. ��But I also know that you’re not talking to Jungkook right now, which means both of you will be moping until you make up.”
Of course he knows, you think. Well, he doesn’t know about this morning and you don’t know if you can bring yourself to tell him, it feels rather embarrassing for you. “Alias told you?”
“He told Sophia, she told Thalia and Thalia told me,” Alex shrugs.
It’s not like you expected it to stay a secret between your friends. Whenever Jungkook and you aren’t talking, it’s usually pretty obvious to everyone around you, especially your friends.
“Wanna talk about it?” Alex offers.
“Not really.” Talking to your parents was enough and you already know what Alex is going to say. “You probably think I should just be completely honest about how I feel, right?”
Alex shrugs again. “Yeah, although he should’ve been upfront about it first.”
Surprised, you look up at him and he continues.
“I know I've been telling you for ages that he’s whipped for you, but this kind of proves it, don’t you think?” Alex glances at you, eyes creasing in the corners as he hides a smug smirk. “There’s only one reason he reacted to Lawrence the way he did.”
It makes sense, but it also doesn’t – Jungkook purely could’ve been pushing you to be with Lawrence as a friend who just wants to see you happy. You’d hate to think it’s for the former reason, only to realise you’ve terribly misinterpreted the situation and end up stupidly admitting your feelings to Jungkook when he cares for you only as a friend. “It doesn’t really,” you say, trying harder to convince yourself than Alex. “I mean, he probably just didn’t want me to waste the opportunity.”
“Ha!” Alex scoffs. “Waste the opportunity.” He gives you a look. “Come on, Y/N, why are you fighting every reason that you have to try?”
“It’s not a reason,” you counter. “We’ve gotten into one argument and I don’t think me saying I have feelings for him will change anything–”
“So you do.”
“What?”
You look back at Alex and see his eyes wide and he’s not even hiding his smile anymore.
“You do like him,” he repeats.
“I, what…?” Suddenly, you realise you just said it out loud. Opening your mouth, you’re about to try to cover it up somehow but it’s too late.
“I knew it,” Alex laughs, seeming way too ecstatic considering how shit you feel. “This is gold, Y/N, this is it, I’ve always known Jungkook liked you but you liking him too, it’s perfect!”
“Shh,” you hush him suddenly, grabbing his hands as you look around in a panic. “Alex shut up, someone’s gonna hear you.”
“The whole world should know, Y/N,” he laughs happily again. Looking at you, he cups your face in his hands. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long, you need to tell him, Y/N, please!”
The thought of telling Jungkook is terrifying to you, even more so now that Alex is saying it out loud and someone could possibly hear.
With your expression split between worry and confusion, Alex’s smile fades a little but not completely. “Y/N, this is good, what’s wrong?”
For the first time, you let yourself say the truth out loud. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
Alex sighs, his smile softening. “There’s only one way you’ll find out.
Now it’s you who scoffs, pulling away from him. “Yeah, right.”
“I am right,” he insists.
Sighing, you look at him. It’s so hard to hear Alex tell you that Jungkook likes you when youc an only think otherwise after this morning… “Something happened,” you start, watching Alex carefully.
For a second he still smiles but when he sees the worry lining your face, his expression mirrors yours as his smile fades. “Okay… you wanna talk about it?”
You quickly glance around to make sure no one can hear. “You promise you won’t tell anyone,” you say, “not even Alias or Sophia or Tha–” you cut yourself off. Asking Alex not to tell his soon to be wife is like asking him to cut off his hand, you already know that since he couldn’t even keep Sophia’s birthday present to her secret. “Fine, only Thalia.”
“Appreciate it,” Alex nods.
“Mhm, well…” You tell him briefly what happened this morning, sparing him the details but telling him every word of what was spoken after and he listens carefully, not interrupting you once.
You chose to tell Alex because he’s the one who has always been so sure of Jungkook’s feelings for you, not Alias, nor Sophia, or even Thalia. Sure, the others have hinted at it but only Alex has ever paid attention to everything between Jungkook and you so if anyone knows the whole story and can give you the best advice, it’s him. So, it feels a little alarming to you when once you’re done, he still doesn’t say anything for a moment.
Then, he purses his lips, grimacing before he finally speaks. “Honestly, that’s a bit confusing. If there ever was a way to confess, this was the perfect window to do it.”
For what feels like the umpteenth time today, your heart sinks. “That’s what I thought.”
“But,” Alex says very surely, taking your hand, “it doesn’t change every single other thing he’s ever done to show he likes you, and let’s be real, he’s probably just worried that you won’t feel the same.”
It’s what you want to hear but it’s still so hard to accept it because what if it’s not true and you make a fool of yourself in front of Jungkook.
“I wish that were true,” you mumble. “But I don’t think I can keep holding onto hope when it hurts like this.”
Alex squeezes your hand. “Y/N, we know Jungkook, he doesn’t exactly play with anyone’s feelings and I absolutely don’t think he would start something physical with you unless he was feeling it emotionally too.”
“I know, but what if it’s just because he was horny.” You’re still mumbling, cheeks going warm as you say it.
“Look, I think there’s a lot of guys who would sleep with their best friends if they had the chance,” Alex says, “but Jungkook isn’t one of them, he never has been.”
Thinking about it, you realise he’s right. Jungkook wouldn’t. There’s been way more chances in the past for him to have done things with you and you’re pretty sure there’s even been times where you drunkenly made a few moves on him but he never did anything himself.
“Still, I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Alex says encouragingly, “how long have I been telling you he likes you? I haven’t been saying it for no reason.”
“But you have no concrete proof either.”
“Just take a chance, be brave and then you’ll see I was right,” Alex says, raising a brow.
Glancing at him, you chuckle. “This is coming from the guy who had to get drunk to say I love you to the love of his life for the first time.”
Alex smiles and leans back in his seat as he gestures around him. “It worked didn’t it? Look at me now.”
Well, he got you there. Plus, you can’t deny the big part of you that believes it. Jungkook and your friendship does feel more than friends sometimes and you know it’s not all in your head. This morning seemed to confirm that too.
Narrowing your eyes at Alex, you turn away to face the horizon. “Don’t say anything to anyone, but I’ll think about it.”
“Yes,” Alex laughs, hugging you. “I’ll keep my mouth shut,” he says, sounding so excited. “You won’t regret this.”
Laughing, you pull him into your side. “You could start now, half the deck can hear you.”
“Sorry,” he grins, squeezing you.
Maybe he’s right, maybe you won’t regret it.

Jungkook comes to a stop at the end of the balcony to watch the sun set behind the sea. It’s been a long day with Alex asking his groomsmen to assist him in all things wedding related and then Alias needed help sorting out the entertainment for tomorrow.
Jungkook hasn’t seen you since lunch. He went back to the cabin while you had lunch with your parents since he didn’t want to make it awkward for you when you eventually came up to finish packing and since then he hasn’t seen you as you’ve been with the girls all day.
Truthfully, after this morning, he doesn’t think he can bear to see you just yet. He feels like a coward. Not only has he probably ruined his friendship with you, but he also can’t help but feel like he’s hurt you. You looked so timid as you stood across the cabin from him and a part of him felt like you wanted him to say something other than what he said. If only he was 100% sure it’s what you wanted, Jungkoook would shout it for the whole world to hear, but what if it’s not and he really does ruin everything between you. Besides, you called it a mistake. That’s all Jungkook can remind himself of as it takes everything in him not to tell you he wishes that there was something more between you.
“Why the long face, Kookie?”
The voice comes from behind him but Jungkook doesn’t have to be looking to know who it is.
Valentina appears beside him and leans on the balcony too. She doesn’t even look at him but just watches the horizon ahead as Jungkook was. “Trouble in paradise, huh?”
Jungkook frowns. Of course that’s the first thing she would think of. “Not really,” he mutters.
As much as he wishes it was paradise between you and him, it wasn’t, none of it was real
and what he finds worse is that he couldn’t even keep up a fake relationship with you – he completely blew it.
“So what then? They didn’t have your favourite bagel for breakfast this morning?” She laughs lightly.
However, Jungkook internally scowls. It’s annoying that she actually knows him rather well despite the finer details of their ‘relationship’. “No offence, Val, but I really just wanna be alone right now.”
There’s harsher things he could’ve said, particularly naming her as the least desirable companion right now, but even without that, Valentina seems to get the message from his tone alone.
The humour in her expression disappears leaving only a small poignant smile.
Not expecting such a quick retreat from her, Jungkook immediately regrets his harsh tone but at the same time, he really is not in the mood for Valentina and her usual antics today.
She doesn’t move an inch though. With a small sigh she turns and faces the horizon just as Jungkook was.
Jungkook does the same; although he’d rather be left alone, he’s definitely not about to make it known again, especially since he now feels a bit bad.
“It’s always been her, hasn’t it?”
For a moment, Jungkook is completely thrown. Multiple thoughts run through his head – What? Valentina knows? How long has she known? Was it from when he was with her? Was he really always in love with you even while he was seeing other people? That must make him a complete dick, right? Has he always made it so painfully obvious that he’s in love with you?
His hesitation seems to give Valentina the answer she was looking for.
She glances at him and smiles before looking away again. “I’m not surprised really, I knew it from when I first met you, I guess it’s my fault for putting us both through everything we went through, it was damned from the start.”
“That’s not your fault,” Jungkook says, the guilt festering.
Valentina just shrugs. “It’s over now, no reason to care.” She says it meaninglessly but Jungkook can only hope she means it.
“So why the long face then?” she repeats, looking at him. “She’s yours, go be with her.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Valentina laughs, bumping her shoulder into him. “Yeah, you’re right. Pretending to date someone you’re secretly in love with is never simple.”
For the second time, Jungkook looks at her stunned. “How did you…?”
She shrugs, still sporting an amused smile. “I know you think I’m stupid, Jungkook, just a head in the clouds rich bitch like everyone else does, but I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?”
“That’s not true,” Jungkook corrects her immediately. Sure, Valentina has her unbearable moments and more often than not, she plays dumb and innocent, but Jungkook knows that she’s more than that. “I wouldn’t have dated you if I thought that.”
“Don’t worry, Kookie, you don’t have to try to make me feel better, I really couldn’t care less about it. Now, back to the main issue here, you need to grow a pair and tell Y/N how you feel about her,” she says bluntly.
She’s not wrong, Jungkook thinks. “It’s just not that simple,” he sighs, turning away from her. It feels odd to be having this conversation with Valentina and despite her honesty just now, he doesn’t really feel like opening up to her.
“What’s complicated about it? You like her and she likes you.”
“We don’t know that.”
“You honestly think she doesn’t like you?” she asks, sounding surprised.
Hesitating, Jungkook eventually shrugs. “Sometimes I think so…” It’s true, sometimes Jungkook really feels so sure that you feel the same way, but then something always happens that changes things. He thinks of Lawrence – you liked him for so long and although Jungkook doesn’t know the extent of it, you always had this schoolgirl crush on him, even whilst you were with Alex. “But I don’t think she does.”
Valentina looks at Jungkook like he’s stupid and he’s vaguely reminded of why they never worked out. “Well, you can keep thinking that but it’s kind of obvious she does.”
Saying nothing, Jungkook looks out at the horizon again, leaning his forearms into the balcony. The sun is almost fully set marking the last day of the cruise. They’ll soon be arriving at Porto Cheli and it’ll be even harder to spend time with you once the bride and groom parties are separated. He wants to talk to you and to make things okay between you again, but he knows that he’s upset you and although it’s confusing him, he wants to give you space.
Valentina sighs, nudging him. “Just talk to her, you don’t want to regret it later on,” she says, straightening up as her usual flamboyance returns. “You know if it doesn’t work out, I’ll always be here for you Kookie pie,” she almost coos, making Jungkook laugh and cringe at the same time. As ditzy as she may act sometimes, Valentina is more smart than Jungkook ever gave her credit for.
She grins, winking at him before she waltzes off like the conversation never happened.

The cabin is dark when you finally return to your room. It’s well past midnight and you expect Jungkook to be here but as your eyes quickly adjust, you can see the room is empty. As you walk in further, you see his suitcase standing packed and ready in the corner of the room.
Deflating, you trudge over to your own open suitcase on one side of the room. You’re only half packed and you’d hoped Jungkook would still have his to do too so you’d have a chance to maybe talk to him, but it seems he’s already done it while you were busy with the girls. You wonder if he avoided you on purpose.
Pushing this thought quickly out of your head, you press shuffle on your ‘summer ‘23’ playlist in an attempt to cheer yourself up while you finish packing. It doesn’t really work but you at least keep your mind free from running rampant, instead singing along to some of your favourite tunes with no regards for your cabin neighbours, one of whom is Valentina and you’re more than certain she’s not in her cabin because you last saw her walking out of the premium lounge with a tall, handsome stranger whose face you couldn’t see and they went into an elevator going to the cabins on the other side of the ship, barely waiting to let the door close before locking lips.
Must be nice, you think sourly before shaking your head. Not cute, Y/N, you scold yourself. Although you don’t blame yourself for having negative thoughts since you are on the short end of an unrequited love story with your best friend, you’d still rather not be bitter.
Almost three hours later, you’ve packed everything, showered and are already dressed ready for the arrival at Porto Cheli soon. You’ve chosen a simple outfit, a sky blue linen co-ord with jewellery to match. Slipping into the comfiest sandals you own, you move your suitcase next to the door and grab your phone before heading out of the room. It’s almost 5am so there’s around an hour left until the ship docks at the port, marking the end of the cruise and the start of the busy wedding weekend. Most of you took a nap during the day, so deciding you wouldn’t sleep tonight, they all agreed to meet one last time on the cruise.
Despite everything that’s happened with Jungkook and the dampener it’s put on your mood, you’re still excited to celebrate Alex’s wedding. Not only is he dear to you, but you’re celebrating his marriage with so many of the people you love the most, making this whole trip special. It would be perfect if you could end it by fixing what’s happened with Jungkook but you feel like you’ve already made yourself so vulnerable to him and nothing came out of it.
It’s quiet and dark in the hallways as you make your way out to the pool on the top deck. It reminds you of the nights you were sneaking out with Jungkook to meet the other guys for whatever stupid stuff you were getting up to. It makes you miss him now and you subconsciously walk a little faster in anticipation of seeing him now as you all gather for the last time.
You can hear your friends before you see them and you smile at the sound of Alias’ laughter as you climb the steps to the deck. You’re certain any patrolling staff would have heard and they’re either being nice enough to let you all off, or Alias tipped them enough to keep quiet.
There’s a bunch of familiar faces hanging around all together, all friends of either Alex, Thalia, Sophia or Alias. You smile at a few as you make your way over to Sophia, Thalia and a few others.
The girls greet you warmly as you approach and Sophia hands you a drink as soon as you arrive. You take it and immediately take a sip. You weren’t planning on having anything to drink but one won’t hurt. There’s an excited buzz in the air, the same you felt on the first day of cruise but this feels special. The sun is rising on the horizon and you’re here with almost all of your best friends. Almost all of your best friends. Jungkook still isn’t here but you try not to focus on it and just have a good time with your friends.
It works, so much so that you’re mid laughter when a familiar face joins the deck and makes their way over to you, but you don’t quite realise until he pats your shoulder as the conversation progresses.
Turning around, your smile falters but doesn’t disappear. “Oh, hey.”
“Hey.” Lawrence looks nervous, an emotion you’re not used to seeing on him.
You also weren’t actually expecting to see him but you’re glad he’s here. Throughout everything, he’s still a friend and you’d hate to lose that relationship with him.
“How are you?” You ask, smile widening. You haven’t seen him since that night and you’d hate to think he’s been avoiding you when it’s the last thing you’d want.
“Good, thanks,” he nods. He seems to suddenly relax at your warm response. He glances at the group behind you and you turn too. No one is paying either of you any attention but Lawrence still asks for privacy. “Do you think we could talk?” he asks tentatively. “I’ll make it quick, I promise.”
“Of course,” you nod, following him as he turns right away and walks to the furthest side of the deck where it’s quietest.
You stop when he does, taking a seat on the bench beside him. It’s easy to see he’s nervous as he glances around quickly before looking down at the drink in his hand. You want to say something to make him feel better but you don’t want to interrupt whatever it is he wants to say.
“How have you, uh, how have you been?” He looks up, holding eye contact for barely a second before looking away again.
“Good,” you answer. It’s not the truth but he doesn’t need to know that.
He nods and takes a sip of his drink. You do the same and you’ve just swallowed when he speaks again.
“I‘m sorry for pulling you away from your friends, I just wanted to talk to you tonight before all the wedding stuff starts and I didn’t know if I’d get a chance.”
“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You lean in a little so he looks at you and smile. “You’re my friend too though,” you say, feeling the need to remind him.
His smile mirrors yours and he nods. “I kinda messed it up though…”
You know this is of course what he wanted to talk to you about and although you don’t think it needs to change anything between you, you know yourself how easily feelings can change a friendship. Not only that, but he deserves an explanation from you too since you did have feelings for him for a good chunk of your teen years and later, plus your conversation ended before it was supposed to that night when Alias and Jungkook appeared.
“Not really,” you shrug. “I think it’s just how we deal with it now, no?”
“Yeah, if you’re okay with that,” he agrees. “I’d like to.”
“Of course I am. And I’m sorry too by the way.”
Lawrence looks confused and you don’t wait for him to say anything before continuing.
“I think it must have been confusing for you to be on the receiving end of my feelings for you while we were in college and maybe I even subconsciously made it seem like it after too.”
“Ah,” Lawrence purses his lips. “Well I didn’t really know.”
“I know, you said that before but I still feel like I need to say it. There may have been a few times I was coming off as more than friendly and that was wrong of me.”
Lawrence’s silence serves as an answer.
“So yeah, I’m sorry too. I hope we can go back to how things were,” you say hesitantly.
“It might be hard,” Lawrence responds honestly.
“I know…” your voice feels small. You know all too well how feelings can change a friendship. “But we’ll try?” You look at him and smile hopefully.
He nods. “Of course.”
You’re content with that. Of course you don’t know the extent of his feelings for you so you hope it won’t be hard for him to move on – after all, the two of you mostly ever met up at family functions and dinners of the same sort. It’s rare for Lawrence to have joined any of the outings with your friends. It was never his fault since his parents have always pushed for him to do more for their company, especially since he was an only child. It’s something that’s always made you more grateful for your own parents and their completely laid back and caring approach to your career, even all throughout school. The only thing they ever pushed for was your grades but they kept up that same effort in all areas of your life, even your extracurriculars. Sure, sometimes when you were growing up you felt the pressure but you always felt supported by them no matter what the final result was.
Lawrence has experienced the opposite of you to say it simply, and you’re sure that given time, he’ll find the right person for him as he prioritises himself.
“Thanks for talking to me though,” you say, “I’m glad you did.”
“Me too,” Lawrence says, taking another sip. “At least now I don’t have to avoid you all weekend long.”
You laugh, agreeing with him and soon enough, the conversation continues although it doesn’t last longer than ten minutes with Lawrence excusing himself.
You stay seated at the bench as he leaves. You didn’t realise you were concerned about your relationship with Lawrence but the relief and content you’re feeling now tells you as much. You’re glad you’ve cleared everything up with him, now if only you could get yourself to do the same with Jungkook.
Glancing around, you realise that he still hasn’t appeared. He definitely would have known about it so you wonder why he hasn’t turned up. Finishing your drink, you get up and head over to where Alias is sitting with his friends Kelce and Dillon.
“Hey, Y/N,” they all say in unison when you come and sit beside them at the pool. They’re definitely a little tipsy and you don’t need to see the cans beside them to know that. Their goofy smiles say it all.
“Hey guys,” you chuckle, patting Kelce’s shoulder. “Um, have you guys seen Jungkook anywhere?”
Alias immediately frowns but it’s Dillon who answers. “We were with him a while ago at the lounge.” He looks at the other guys. “When was that? A couple of hours ago?”
Kelce looks at his phone. “Yeah, it was around one.”
You went past the lounge at the same time, that’s when you saw Valentina leaving with that guy… for a split second, your mind goes there – could it have been him? – No. Absolutely no. The idea is absurd. You feel stupid for even thinking that.
“You haven’t seen him since then, Y/N?” Alias asks.
“No.” You ignore the seed of concern that settles in your stomach. You’re certain he’s not with Valentina, but where is he?
“We were gonna leave the lounge together but he stayed for another drink,” Alias tells you, seeming to share the same concern as you. “He seemed like he wanted to be alone so we left him.”
“Oh.” It’s not like Jungkook to drink alone – if he does, he’s usually upset about something. “Well, thanks for telling me,” you mutter, getting up and leaving the group.
Alias, however, gets up with you. “Hey,” he says, taking your arm. “You want me to find him?” He looks you over and you’re sure the concern in his expression isn’t solely for Jungkook.
“Um…” you hesitate. You don’t want to seem like a clingy best friend, especially not after what happened between you, but if Jungkook is drinking alone then he’s not feeling okay and you would normally be there for him. This time you feel like you can’t be, but Alias can. However, you don’t want to ask Alias to spend his night away from his friends and family.
Looking at him, you smile. “No, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”
Alias doesn’t seem convinced. “But then he would be here.”
He’s right. “Or maybe he was tired and went back to the cabin?”
“You just said you haven’t seen him since we did.”
Chewing on the inside of your lip, you shake your head. “I haven’t.”
Sighing, Alias pulls out his phone. “I’ll try calling him but if he doesn’t get back to me in ten minutes we’ll go look for him.”
“Okay,” you nod. “Let me know if he replies,” you say, thanking him too before going back to some of the girls.
You’re not listening much to their conversation although you try to get involved to take your mind off of Jungkook.
It isn’t until you receive a text from Alias with a screenshot that your nerves are put to rest.
[3:01] Me: hey man where r u?
[3:13] JK: hey sorry bro, I knocked out on the balcony.
[3:13] Me: oh okay, it’s all good just wanted to know where u were. Join us now? We’re at the top pool deck.
[3.15] JK: I’m just gonna check all my luggage is packed first. Will join later.
[3:15] Me: cool see u.
So he’s fine, he just fell asleep. You still want to see him but you know that’s not going to happen unless you go down to the cabin room and you don’t want to seem clingy so you don’t. Instead, you turn your attention back to the conversation the girls are having and feel the excitement for the weekend to come.

Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often and he had no plans of doing so the last night of the cruise either, and he most definitely did not expect to get drunk with your father of all people…
“You coming Jungkook?”
Looking up from his drink, Jungkook shook his head. “Nah, I’m just gonna hang here for a bit,” he said with a smile so as not to raise suspicions from the already watchful eye of Alias.
Still, Alias frowned. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I still got a headache.”
“Alright, well text me if you need anything,” Alias said as he, Kelce and Dillon got up.
“Get well soon,” Kelce said as they took their leave.
“Join us later, yeah?” Dillon added.
“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded. “I’ll catch you guys later.”
He watched as they walked out, trying to find the same excitement in him for the wedding as they’re feeling but his head was full of other thoughts.
Sighing, he looked down at this drink again. It’s true that he had a headache. He even chose not to have anything alcoholic, opting for a mocktail from the extensive drinks menu available at the lounge. He’s not sure where it came from but he thought it’s most likely just because he couldn’t stop his brain from thinking and the lack of sleep didn’t help either.
Truthfully, he knew he was just moping. He knew what he had to do and he knew it before his conversation with Valentina. Although, the fact that she said it too just made Jungkook more aware of the truth.
The line between friendship and something more had always been blurry for Jungkook and the past few days only made him more sure of it — he’s in love with you and he always has been for as long as he can remember.
Every time the thought crossed Jungkook’s mind, it triggered the questions that come with it. How do I tell her? Does she feel the same way? She’ll hate me. What if she hates me? I shouldn’t do that to her? What’s worse, is that now it had come to the point that being with you was almost painful – not knowing if he could have more with you when all he had to do was confront his feelings, swallow his pride and be honest with you. Even if you didn’t feel the same, it was the point at which he realised he would rather you hate him for admitting his feelings and ruining your friendship, than stay quiet and never know if he can have what he’s always wanted with you.
That said, it still felt so hard to do – he had a lot to lose.
Head lowered, Jungkook tried to figure out the best way to do this when he heard a familiar laugh somewhere behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Valentina walking with a tall, handsome man beside her. Jungkook had seen him around a few times but he wasn’t sure if he was a part of the wedding party. Whoever he was, he sure knew how to make Valentina laugh; she was laughing as he put his arm around her and she raised her hand to hold his fingers loosely when she looked towards the bar. Making eye contact with Jungkook, she stopped and tilted her head.
Jungkook just smiled awkwardly and turned back around. He didn’t want to seem like he was staring even though that was what he was doing but for no bad reason – he liked to see Valentina happy. Despite her shortcomings, deep down she always had good intentions for the most part and making her happy was something Jungkook couldn’t do. However, he would’ve been lying if he said seeing her like that didn’t hurt – not because he was jealous of her, but because everyone around him seemed to be having such good luck in their love lives (whether there’s feelings attached or not) and here he was, unable to find the words to tell his best friend he loves her. It sucked.
“And what are you doing here, may I ask?”
Hearing Valentina’s voice so close to him all of a sudden startled Jungkook. He looked up, eyes wide. She stood with one hand on the bar and the other on her hip.
“Uh, just getting a drink.”
Valentina rolled her eyes. “I spoke to you less than 12 hours ago, Jungkook, do you not remember anything?”
“I do,” he replied, glancing across at her date who seemed super unbothered as he waited for her a short distance away.
“Then why are you here?”
“I just needed to think some things over.”
“Like what?”
“Just things,” Jungkook said, feeling somewhat intimidated by how serious she was right now.
“You know you’re just wasting time,” she said matter-of-factly.
“She’s with everyone else right now, I don’t want to ruin her evening,” Jungkook says defensively.
“I really don’t think anything you say or do could ruin her evening.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Well, yeah but you’re not doing anything about it so how is that any better?”
She wasn’t wrong but Jungkook was convinced he needed to give you time. “I’m just not ready yet,” he sighed.
Valentina sighed too. “Fine,” she shrugged and turned back towards her date. “But you don’t need to think, Jungkook, you just need to do what needs to be done,” she added with a wave of her hand.
He knew she was right but why did it feel so hard?!
Getting the attention of the bartender, he ordered a much needed drink, downing it all almost as soon as it came before ordering a second. At least he wasn’t a light weight. He knew this wouldn’t help his headache but it wasn’t like he was helping himself at all by sitting here and thinking endlessly. Endless thoughts of what could go right and wrong trailed through his mind, leaving him conflicted as he accepted that he wouldn’t disturb your night with this.
Halfway through his drink, someone came and took a seat at the stool beside him despite there being space elsewhere. Looking across, he was more than surprised to see the last person he would’ve expected to see here.
Lawrence only acknowledged Jungkook with a nod before ordering his own drink.
A multitude of emotions went through Jungkook at this particular moment starting with wanting to punch Lawrence in his perfect face, to feeling sorry for himself for being forced into this situation, then feeling sorry for Lawrence because he knew that he got the short end of the stick – at least Jungkook still has a strong friendship with you — and oddly, gratefulness because Jungkook knows what he needs to do now and without Lawrence, he wouldn’t have been forced into it and who knows how long he would’ve gone without telling you the truth (though he had yet to do it).
Saying nothing himself, Jungkook took another sip of his drink.
Lawrence, however, started a conversation. “You not joining the others?”
“Nah,” Jungkook answered quietly. He gave no reason but he didn’t need to.
Lawrence nodded in understanding but said nothing else. His drink arrived and he stayed seated, sipping quietly beside Jungkook.
Jungkook really didn’t care for conversation. He came to the bar for some peace and quiet so initiating a conversation is the last thing he wanted to do.
With all that said, Jungkook’s curiosity got the better of him.
“What about you?” He asked without even turning his head. “You’re not gonna head up there?”
Lawrence shook his head. “I’ll head up a bit later”
Jungkook nodded, wondering if Lawrence would see you while he was there. He could ask him but that would open the doors to another conversation which he didn’t really want to have.
Lawrence didn’t owe him any apology since you’re not really his girlfriend. He did seem to cross a line considering he didn’t know that at the time, but there was no reason for him to say it now.
Just when Jungkook took another sip of his drink, Lawrence put his glass down and looked toward Jungkook, sincerely.
“Hey, man, I’m really sorry for what I did.”
Although he harboured some slight resentment towards Lawrence for what happened, it immediately seemed to melt away in that moment. Their friendship extended well beyond the past few days and Jungkook has never been the type to hold a grudge, especially not when the other person is genuine.
“It’s cool,” he responded. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I did.”
Jungkook only had to glance at Lawrence to see he looked guilty and felt bad about it. “I was selfish and I wanted to tell Y/N how I felt. I guess there was a part of me that wished she wasn’t with you and that was completely fucked up.”
“She’s not with me though.”
It came out slightly harsher than intended, carrying the weight of Jungkook’s own feelings. Lawrence went quiet and Jungkook continued, resigned.
“Honestly I’d say you’ve got a pretty good shot with her, I’d go for it if I were you.”
“Why don’t you?” Lawnrence asked simply, without any curiosity or even peaked interest. His voice held more of a genuine want to help.
“What?”
“Why don’t you just go for it?”
Jungkook shook his head. “We’re just friends.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“No offence Lawrence, but how would you know?”… Now that did come out slightly harsher than intended. “The last time you even saw us was probably at Sophia’s graduation and even then you were gonna way before the night ended.”
Completely understanding, Lawrence backed up. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine.” Jungkook cooled off. “I’m sorry too. That came out wrong.”
“It’s alright.” Lawrence sat back in his chair, swirled his drink before taking three long sips to empty the glass.
“It doesn’t change anything though,” he said, getting up from his stool. “There’s a point at which you can pass friendship and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with treading beyond that line.” He put a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Just do it carefully.”
Jungkook stared at Lawrence but Lawrence didn’t linger.
“Anyway, like I said, I’m sorry for everything.”
Jungkook watched as he walked away, the words swimming in his befuddled mind.
Lawrence was right. There was a line and Jungkook knew he was straddling that fine line and perhaps now it was too late to step back. Instead, he should be brave and put everything out on that line. It was easy enough to think with liquid courage flowing through him, that and the fact that you weren’t here right now. But maybe he should have taken advantage of the fact that he was feeling more confident now, he should find you, he found himself thinking. He should tell you he’s in love with you and then whatever happens next will happen. He can’t control that and right now there’s already a strain on the relationship that can only be fixed by the truth.
He should do it, he thought. The thought built up more and more, ushering Jungkook as he pushed himself off the bar stool—
“Where you going, son? I just got here.”
A firm band on Jungkook’s shoulder pushed him back down, contrasting the loving tone with which he was spoken to.
Your dad took the seat which was previously occupied by Lawrence and Jungkook could only stare for a moment as he called the bartender and ordered two drinks. If it was anyone else, Jungkook would’ve apologised and excused himself to carry out his plan of finding you, but with your dad it was simply not the case.
“You like a gin and tonic right?” He asked, after ordering.
Jungkook wasn’t particularly fond of it but he nodded. “Yeah, thanks. “
“How come you’re not with the others?”
Jungkook shrugged, hoping that your dad wouldn’t be able to tell he’d already had a couple to drink. “I just wasn’t feeling it.”
“And Y/N?”
Despite being the only thing on his mind for a while, the mention of you still threw him. “Huh?”
“Is she with the others?” Your dad asked coolly, reaching for some peanuts from the bowl in front of them.
“Yeah, I think so,” Jungkook answered as nonchalantly as he could.
The bartender arrived with their drinks and your dad took his and sipped slowly in silence.
Jungkoon was not uncomfortable around your dad, not in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to have grown rather close to him over the years and appreciated the almost father-son bond they shared. Having spent much time with your family, there wasn’t much he had yet to experience when it came to your dad, but this was something different. He’d never been sat at a bar, just the two of them making small talk over drinks.
Jungkook knew your dad well enough to know that that wasn’t the purpose of this. Your dad is just breaking the ice to another conversation… but what? Surely it had to be about you and that was the only reason Jungkook found his palms unusually sweaty.
After what must’ve been at least twenty more minutes of small talk about the weather and football, Jungkook had emptied his second glass.
Your dad laughed. “I forgot you can take your liquor, huh?”
Before Jungkook could even respond, another drink had been ordered for him and Jungkook willed himself to drink this one slower, wary that he was already more than a few drinks in now though he was grateful that your dad was good at keeping up
“So, what’s the real reason you’re not with the others?” Your dad asked, his own drink replaced with another as well.
Jungkook shrugged and answered honestly. “Just not in the mood to socialise. I think I’d be a bit of a Debby downer so I’d rather sit this one out.”
“That’s selfless of you.”
“Not really, kind of selfish actually.”
Your dad nodded. “A bit of both then.”
Much to Jungkook’s surprise, your dad emptied his glass faster than Jungkook had and didn’t hesitate to order another.
“Anything else for you?” he asked Jungkook.
“Uh, sure.” Jungkook wasn’t sure why he said yes but he did, ordering a whiskey instead.
Your dad pulled his phone out and sighed, muttering an apology about a work issue and Jungkook nodded, not minding in the slightest. But the issue must have been resolved quickly because he put the phone away only moments later.
“It almost feels wrong to be drinking with you,” your dad said.
“Why?” Jungkook asked, taking the smallest sip from his glass. “Because I’m younger than you?”
“Partly. I’ve known you since you were so young, it’s hard to believe how much you’ve grown up.” Your dad smiled. “Y/N too.”
Jungkook smiled. “It has been a long time.” He thought back to the first day he first met your dad and you. He was a shy kid, hiding behind his mom and at the time, you were pretty shy at the time too. It was your mom who encouraged you to ask Jungkook if he wanted to read a book with you. He looked at his own mom for reassurance before shyly agreeing and following you to the reading corner in your playroom. By the end of the night your affinity for him had grown and that was the simple start to your long friendship with more ups and downs than Jungkook could count.
“But at the same time it feels like nothing.”
Your dad raised his glass. “Exactly,” he said, with an agreeing nod of his head. “A lifetime and nothing, both at once. I sometimes wish I could go back.”
“To when we were young?”
“Further back if I could,” he smiled. “Maybe a few years before Y/N was born. Just before I got married.”
“Why then? Jungkook asked, curious. He’d known your dad for so many years and they’d had plenty of conversations about serious stuff and more light hearted stuff, but this was different. He’d not spoken much about his relationship witn your mother, especially not when partially intoxicated. And while Jungkook had seen plenty of the love they shared, he’d not heard much about it except from you.
“When I first met Y/N’s mother—gosh,” he sighed contentedly as though reliving the moment. “She was like no one else I’d ever met. She still is,” he added with a gentle chuckle. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend my days with. I’d give everything I have to be with her. Every minute of every hour, always.”
The smile on your dads face grew, as did Jungkook’s.
“We were young when we got married, you know?”
Jungkook nodded. “I know. 24 right?”
He nodded, the corners of his lips turning up further into a proud smile. “I didn’t want to waste another day without the promise of having her by my side. My friends said I was mad, too young.”
Jungkook shakes his head, knowing how it felt to not want to be apart from someone he loved so dearly. “I don’t think you were mad at all. You were in love.”
Your dad turned, now masking the smile that was on his face as he looked at Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eye that Jungkook hadn’t seen before. “You know it when you feel it. There’s no mistaking it.”
Jungkook knew that now. He felt it more than ever with you now. But more pressingly, Jungkook realised – your dad knew.
If it weren’t for the drinks he’d had, Jungkook might have felt embarrassed.
In quiet admittance, Jungkook sighed. “I know.”
Your dad smiled. “You shouldn’t let this time get away from you, Jungkook. You’re young with a life to live. Do it with love and without regrets.
Jungkook nodded, feeling a tumultuous swirl of emotions inside. “I will,” he said, feeling more certain now than he had before, but he knew his head wasn’t in the right place to do this. First he ought to sober up…
There was a gentle pat on his back from your dad. “Good.” He flagged the bartender down for what felt like too many times to Jungkook. “But first another drink with me.”
“Sure.” Jungkook felt his words slur slightly. Then the cogs in his brain which were turning a little slower raised a question in his mind. his eyes narrowed and he turned to your dad. “Wait, is this a test?”
Your dad laughed. “I’ve always liked you Jungkook.”
“Me too.” Jungkook smiled though he still looked wary.
“Good.” Your dad returned the smile with even more fondness. “And no, it’s not a test. Let’s drink.”
So Jungkook stayed.

note. how are you finding it? :) let me know xoxoxo link for part 3 here
more song recs: lose control — meduza & becky hill & goodboys tenerife sea — ed sheeran i'm a mess — ed sheeran so good (stripped) — halsey crazy what love can do — david guetta & becky hill & ella henderson

#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#jjk fanfic#bts fanfic#jjk x you#bts x reader#jungkook oneshot#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut
962 notes
·
View notes
Text
"but right now YOU'RE MINE." || yandere ! shauna x reader
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🔪 you're framed and punished for a crime you didn't commit. shauna decides she's best suited to be your punisher.
🩻 MDNI : eventual smut - transfem shauna receiving head except it kinda turns into face fucking because shauna is literally insane i swear i didn't mean for that to happen she just kinda did that
�� tw blood mention, [attempted] murder mention, toxic/possessive behavior, intentional injury causing + purposefully prodding wounds, yellowjackets typical shenanigans
♠️ pre-winter, no frog scientists, lowkey ooc [kill me], i wrote this fully forgetting shauna canonically is a pretty piss poor liar so just pretend that isnt the case i guess
my first time writing actual smut [i feel like the nsfw abc doesnt rly count] so i'm open to criticism it actually helps lmao
🎵 song: rule 34, fish in a birdcage
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
"p-please i would never! i swear!!"
as much as you pleaded and groveled, nothing changed. you had sobbed and pleaded your innocence for what felt like hours, and not a soul was convinced- perhaps a few people were swayed or at the very least felt bad for you, but the mob mentality kept them in line as the general conclusion was that you were lying through your teeth.
for the most part, you were shit outta luck.
the evidence was stacked against you- which was ridicoulous considering you were genuinely innocent. most of it you didn't understand and couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse beyond-
"i must've been framed, i'm serious! guys you've gotta believe me i-"
"tch- of course you would say something like that." melissa scoffs, cutting you off. it seems she mostly meant to keep the comment to herself, but she made harsh eye contact with you while the words fell from her lips so you suppose she didn't mind the fact that you overheard her.
as much as you wanted to snap back and defend yourself, you knew it would only make things worse- melissa had been the one who had accused you in the first place, presenting completely damning (yet completely impossible) evidence
it's not like you could do anything anyways. innocent or not, the girls had already decided you were beyond guilty. either way, you were absolutely fucked.
you had been evicted from your hut and rehoused in the animal pen until the girls could figure out what to do with you. they had only tied up your hands, and even then they were tied together and not actually tied to anything in the pen... it would be catastrophically easy to run off. you considered it, but you didn't move a muscle.
you knew better than that.
instead you decided to stargaze with the animals, figuring it made a much better pass time than contemplating your fate.
you are quite glad you decided against running off when moments later you hear the gate open and shut, approaching footsteps following soon after. for whatever reason you didn't turn over to see who it was, opting to completely ignore them.
one of those situations where you hoped your problems would vanish if you pretended they weren't there.
they didn't.
instead whoever it was deliberately kicked you in the shoulder to get your attention. slowly you turned to see who it was, shauna's big brown eyes staring back at you.
her expression almost looked bored, as if she had a thousand better things to do, but her hands were balled into tight fists by her sides giving off a different impression of how she felt about you.
oh great.
"get on your feet."
you listen to her instructions completely, jumping to your feet at her command. despite the instinctive obedience, you can't help the inevitable question-
"where are we going?"
"just do what i say."
worth a shot.
shauna parades you through the village, which is weirdly quiet. you're used to the bustle of everyone running around paired with the excited fireside chatter, none of which was currently present. everyone must've been asleep already, which was weird because you could've sworn it was still early. you must've lost track of time while stargazing, but even then that seemed like a stretch.
you walk past each currently occupied hut, but before you can walk past shauna's she grabs the back of your collar, yanking you back. briefly you gag and take a moment to collect yourself from the surprise, all the while shauna is pushing you past the makeshift blanket door. once inside, you're given all of five milliseconds to glance around before shauna shoves you ass first into the dirt.
"what the fuck are you doing-"
"you should be grateful you're not dead."
this comment threw you off. you took a moment to process the implications before glancing back at shauna, "i was supposed to be executed?"
"you were supposed to be exiled with nothing but the clothes on your back," shauna rolls her eyes as if this conversation is painstakingly redundant, "which, out here, is pretty much the same as an execution."
"exiled? why?"
"because you're 'dangerous' and 'unpredictable', according to the court." shauna says the words with air quotes as if she doesn't quite believe it either- once upon a time you were the shy new kid on the team, and now you were being painted as being chaotic and cruel- no matter how you twisted it, the narrative just didn't quite make sense.
you cock an eyebrow, "i'm dangerous and unpredictable, but you're not?"
shauna deadpans, clearly unamused, "i didn't try to axe murder someone in cold blood."
"neither did i!" you exclaim, "the axe is kept on the other side of the village, completely opposite to my hut. i would've had almost zero chance of grabbing it, much less attempt to murder someone!"
shauna crouches down, kneeling to be eye level with you, and yet she once again rolls her eyes. by now you should know arguing with her of all people is not only pointless but also a bit of a death wish- considering your current situation, you could care less.
"someone would've woken up, don't you think? robin is a very light sleeper and she's housed right next to it! you should be interrogating her, not death sentencing me!"
"your clothes were found hidden and covered in blood, not hers."
"anyone could've taken my stuff from the laundry. your case has way too many holes in it, you and i both know tha-"
you're cut off by shauna's hands flying up to meet your throat.
"argue as much as you like but the decision is final." she emphasized her words by squeezing her hands around your neck, earning a desperate squeak as your hands rushed to meet hers, soon confronted by the fact that they were still tied. you couldn't do much aside from choke and squirm, causing a fascinated shark-like grin to slowly spread across shauna's face as she watched you struggle. there was a sparkle in shauna's eyes at the sight of your misery. as her eyes lit up, yours began to dim.
shauna tilts her head to the side, still carefully observing you all the while damn near killing you herself.
"are you gonna behave?"
to the best of your ability, you nodded.
her hands drew back and you began gasping for air, physically rolling over in a desperate attempt at regaining your bearings.
slowly you sit up again, cautiously looking her in the eyes, "do the others know about this?"
from the way the corner of her mouth twitches, you figure shauna is calculating an answer which you patiently wait for her to give, but she doesn't. the both of you sit in a brief awkward silence as shauna decides your question wasn't worth so much as acknowledging.
"do they?"
you try again, despite the way it didn't seem like you'd be getting a straight answer.
shauna opts instead to shift the conversation entirely. she grabs your hand (both unintentionally, due to the rope secured tightly around your wrists, although she focuses her attention to only one- your left hand-) pointing out a small scratch running across your forearm.
"what happened here?"
you sighed as you recalled the incident- post trial in your infinite genius you did the only thing you could think of in order to save your skin,
you ran.
you ran from a fucking soccer team.
your mad dash was unsurprisingly short lived but ended in a bit of a scuffle which resulted in a number of smaller injuries littered across your body.
you glance down at the scratch shauna was referring to, "i think that was misty- she grabbed me by the arm while i was trying to run and just kinda dug her nails into my skin... i don't think she was trying to hurt me though-"
shauna has already moved on, her hand moving to your lower thigh. she presses her palm down, causing you to wince at a bruise you didn't even know was there- how the hell did she know where your injuries were, but you didn't?
"what about here?"
"i'm not sure-" you stammered, searching for the reason as you replayed the event in your mind- "gen maybe? she kicked me pretty hard when melissa explained what happened but-"
shauna pokes at the bruise once more for good measure before going back to searching for another mystery mark somewhere along your body. another scratch, another scab, another bruise, another sore. she pointed out every little thing, giving each a firm squeeze forcing tiny pained gasps from your lips as she continued to pressure you into explaining the story behind each one.
shauna furrows her eyebrows, "you really think they'd save you? they want you dead. i'm your only hope."
you didn't answer, still refusing to accept the truth shauna was presenting to you.
she takes your silence as a sign to continue.
"they all hate you, you know that right?" she inches her way closer as she says it, her hands coming up to cup your face. you tried to turn away from her touch, but one of her hands moved to your chin, gripping it tightly as she forced you to look at her.
"i'm all you have left," she's closer now, closing the space between the two of you by quite literally crawling onto your lap. with nowhere else to put your hands you flatten them against your thigh, giving shauna all the more room as she continued to take up all the space in your lap, "and i think you know that too."
before you can even think of a solid response, shauna crashes her lips into yours.
shauna practically growls into your mouth as she pushes her body against yours. it's all tongue, teeth, and bottled up frustration, most of which is being taken out on you. it feels like she's trying to eat you alive, and you wouldn't be surprised if she was genuinely trying.
you don't notice it at first- the way she lazily rocks her hips- it's not exactly your top priority against the way she's trying to kiss you into the dirt. eventually she pulls away in favor of getting air (which the both of you hastily take in as if you had been living on the moon for the past ten years), and with your attention no longer being on making sure shauna didn't eat your tongue from inside your own mouth, you were finally able to acknowledge the bulge growing in her pants.
you glance at her, then at it.
back at her, back at it.
you feel like a pervert staring at her crotch for as long as you do, so you finally tear your eyes away and settle at looking at her face as if your eyes hadn't been glued to her dick for the past ten seconds.
"do you want some help with that?" to the best of your ability with your hands tied together the way they were, you cupped your hands and made an exaggerated tugging motion. you could practically see the gears turning in her brain, and when she grinned you purposefully strained your wrists against the ropes binding them together, "you'll just have to-"
"i'm not untying you."
damn.
fair enough.
shauna shifts onto her knees, placing one hand on your shoulder before using you as leverage to push herself to her feet. she over exaggerates it, pushing you harder than she needs to and damn near shoving you face first into the dirt floor. after nearly losing your balance, you correct yourself and sit upwards to get a proper view of the way she was now hovering over you, one of her hands burying itself in your hair while her other busied itself with removing her belt buckle.
you hated moments like these because if the circumstances were different, this would have been incredibly hot. you always thought shauna was pretty, and back home you probably would've fantasized about being tied up and at her mercy... you suppose in a way it was still kinda hot, but you didn't really have the time to dwell on that.
especially considering the way she begins to draw her knife with the hand that was once in your hair.
she doesn't do much with it- her hand, still gripping the knife, once again gets tangled up in your hair, so while it isn't actually prodding you it is there as a sort of warning... which was stupid considering you already agreed to get her off. you aren't sure why she's being so melodramatic, but then again you can't remember the last time shauna did something without an excessive amount of theatrics.
the buckle finally comes free and she tugs out her belt before dropping it to the floor... it takes her a hot minute since she's trying to remove her belt with just one hand, and it's lowkey embarrassing to watch but you pretend not to notice or judge.
once the whole spiel is over she locks eyes with you, cocking an eyebrow as if she expected you to do something.
"you don't expect me to take off your pants, do you?"
"what, you don't know how?"
"my hands are still fucking tied!"
shauna sighs, free hand hastily tugging down her jeans (and somehow also her boxers, impressively in just one motion), letting them fall to her ankles.
the hand against your head, somehow gentle despite holding a bundle of your hair in a tight fist, guides your head to meet her dick while her free hand mindlessly pumps her shaft.
you kiss her tip before taking it into your mouth, earning a soft gasp as she nudged you on, urging you to take more of her length. you try to focus on keeping your breathing steady as your head dips, lightly sucking as her dick slides further into your mouth. curiously you try to glance up (to the best of your ability) to glance at her expression, but not only was it difficult from your angle, she also proceeded to toss her head back as she shoves the rest of her cock with zero warning.
immediately you gag, to which she responds with a breathy chuckle before drawing back slightly and doing it again. you feel her tip hit the back of your mouth, and you try to pull back to regain your bearings but the hand in your hair keeps you steady, blade tight in her fist as a reminder to behave yourself.
she continues to roll her hips, occasionally pulling out just to drive her hips forward as if intentionally blocking your airway was her whole job. her sighs have morphed into groans, your own fear of being caught by how loud she was beginning to get quickly overruled by the fact that shauna didn't seem to care.
you can feel the cool metal from her blade press against the back of your head as she begins to get more sloppy. the knife is on it's side so at it's current it would have been unable to cut you, but should she continue to grow more careless you wouldn't be entirely surprised if it did happen.
before she could accidentally slice the back of your head open, she halts, her eyes rolling back as she shoves her dick in as far as it would go- not that you could see, the only information you received was the way her fist clenched impossibly harder as she broke into a strangled moan, ropes of her cum flooding your mouth and slinking down your throat. she pulls out slowly, and your immediate instinct to cough it up was cut off by her hands slamming over your mouth.
"swallow it." her voice was low and laced with authority, but you still (somehow) found it within yourself to whine and shake your head as a nonverbal NO. she furrows her eyebrows, forcefully tilting your head back as she once again ordered, "swallow."
you force yourself to relax, doing as she commands and shuddering at the sensation. she grins, ruffling your hair.
"good job."
her tone was weirdly sarcastic- you couldn't help but feel like she was toying with you, but before you could come up with some witty remark she's using one hand to shove you onto your back. you yelp in surprise while she sinks to her knees, promptly making her way on top of you and making herself comfortable on your chest.
in a way, it feels like you're cuddling but also not really. she's possessive about it, hooking her legs around your own and wrapping her arms underneath yours. if you were really cuddling, you'd both be comfortable, but there's a rock digging into your side and your head is still spinning from the impact, but you suppose when you're being used as a human pillow, your opinion doesn't really matter.
it's awkward.
you absolutely have to say something.
"so... what now?"
"...what do you mean?" shauna's response comes in a murmur- it seems like she's already falling asleep, tuckered out after cumming as hard as she did for the first time in quite a while.
"am i still due to be exiled?"
shauna snorts as if it was the dumbest question you could've asked, "obviously not."
"what do you mean obviously?" you press, with a little more aggression than you would've hoped, "they got majority. you said it yourself they want me dead."
"i overruled the decision," she sits upright, shuffling until she has your head boxed in with her forearms, "don't forget, I'M your queen now."
something about the way she says it makes you shiver.
"i... i don't understand..."
one of her hands reaches up to cup your face, her thumb affectionately running up and down your cheek after she notices the way you flinch from her touch.
"i'm in charge of what happens to you. your life is in my hands."
a smile spreads across her face as she studies your confusion. you try to come up with something to say, but your brain is foggy from the bullshit she was lobbing at you.
"in other words-" her tone was somewhat babyish, as if she was dumbing it down in simple words for you to understand- although it didn't take long for her harsh attitude to return, "you're all mine now."
and with that, she shuffles again and returns to her previous position, snuggling into your chest and trapping you down with her body weight.
"get used to it."
#my favorite pass time is making reader lose as much aura as humanly possible#shauna shipman x reader#shauna shipman x you#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets x you
278 notes
·
View notes
Text
CRUSH | NATALIE'S INTERLUDE TWO
pairing: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader
summary: Well... those were a fun few hours, huh?
wc: 1070
warnings: post-nut guilt, i've decided van is nonbinary you have to live with it now
a/n: i'd apologize for the photo but im really not sorry mb
ao3 / masterlist
PREVIOUS - ACT TWO: SMOKE SIGNALS
NEXT - ACT THREE: SAFE FROM HEARTBREAK (IF YOU NEVER FALL IN LOVE)
NATALIE
It's been a few hours since you fell asleep.
She thinks.
You had seemed so… happy when you fell asleep. Your hand resting on her shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into the skin as you kissed the top of her head every few minutes, as if you were reminding yourself she was still there.
Her original plan was to leave right after you fell asleep, you know? Let you deal with everything on your own. The aftermath and the unfortunate light that morning brings.
She hates that she can't.
You lay there, looking relaxed and calm, and she sits on your windowsill, prepared to jump out into the snowbanks below. But she can't bring herself to leave, not after everything. The least she could do was stay to say good morning, then leave. Just so that you know… you know she didn't just… take your virginity and leave.
Nat's face contorts at that thought. God, she really did that, didn't she? And despite your willingness, she can't help but feel like she coerced you into it. She knows, realistically, that she didn't. You were willing, your skin was willing, your voice was willing. She knows.
It doesn't stop the full-body shiver from raking up her spine at the idea that she might have.
She glances back at you before digging around in her jacket pocket. Her phone—old, cracked, barely functioning at this point—buzzes faintly when she taps the screen.
2:36 AM
She sighs as she plugs her earbuds into the jack, jamming it in and angling the cord just to get sound playing in both ears. It works—barely, even on full volume, but it works nonetheless. She scrolls through whatever music she has downloaded and clicks the song that always hits when her thoughts won't shut the fuck up.
'So What'cha Want' by Beastie Boys blares into her ears with tinny aggression, a welcome reprieve from the silence of your room. Hell, she doesn't even realize she's muttering the lyrics until the cigarette's halfway to her lips.
The window opens with a reluctant creak. She places the filter of the smoke between her cracked and bruised lips and lights the tip, taking a long drag before blowing it slowly out into the cold night, letting it mix with the frosty air.
In a way, it feels like she's exhaling the ever-present guilt that gnaws at her insides most days. The only time she doesn't feel that guilt is when she's doing something she shouldn't be doing. Whether that thing is drugs, crime, or having sex…
"Fuck," Nat hisses to herself, almost pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration before she remembers that it's busted.
Great. Right. She got beat to shit only a handful of hours ago. How the fuck is she gonna explain this one away to anyone else? To the team? To her mom (who probably won't care)? To Kevyn and Rich?
'Fuck' indeed.
She opens up her messages—out of post-hookup habit—and taps something stupid out to Van.
[nat]
ever jus commit a felony then feel sad abt it lol ike hypotheticaly
No response. It's almost three in the morning. And Van is basically technologically illiterate. What the fuck would they even say—
[van]
who did you murder?????? do I need to call tai do we need a shovel I'll help you hide the body
Nat has to fight the twitch in her lips. Leave it to Van's dumbassery to cheer her up right now.
[nat]
no1 murdred yet
[van]
then what crime did you commit arson? cannibalism? identity theft?
[nat]
no dumbass i fuked that chick i was telling u abt
Silence. Complete radio silence on the other end.
As the song shifts to 'Date With The Night' by Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Nat curses herself internally as she ashes the cigarette on the cracked window pane. God, she's really done it this time, huh? Maybe Lottie was—
[van]
DUDE!!!! ARE YOU THERE?
She scoffs before taking another drag from the Marlboro, rolling her eyes as she debates dignifying that with a response. The obvious answer is yes, but Van knows that. They just want Nat to admit it.
[nat]
yes
[van]
YOU'RE STAYING THE NIGHT, RIGHT? CORRECT?
[nat]
i think
[van]
WRONG ANSWER! CORRECT ANSWER IS YES! GO BACK TO BED WITH HER TAI SENDS HER WARMEST REGARDS
As much as Nat hates to admit it, Van has a point. She should stay the night. After all, didn't she tell Lottie you were 'different'?
If Nat were playing this by her own rules, she would have already been halfway across town by now. But instead, she's standing in your room, still half-dressed, nursing a cigarette and her own idiotic sense of guilt.
She flicks what's left of the smoke into the snow hills two stories down and lets the brisk night air cling to her skin one last time before closing the window with a heavy sigh.
She doesn't crawl back into your bed right away.
She stares at you for a long time, perched on the windowsill. She watches your chest's slow rise and fall, the furrow in your brow that hasn't gone away even in sleep. She wonders what the hell you're dreaming about, if anything. Wonders if it's her. Wonders if that's a good or bad thing.
Probably bad.
Eventually, Nat runs a hand through her greasy hair, grimacing slightly when her fingers snag on a knot, and then finally gives in to the bone-deep need for sleep, quietly sliding back into bed beside you.
Your body shifts instinctively, curling toward her like it's second nature. Maybe she should have expected it. Maybe this is what she wanted the whole time.
Her arm moves before she can stop it, wrapping loosely around your waist as she tucks her head under your chin once more, and she catches herself before she can purr like a fucking cat.
She tells herself this is just to keep both of you from getting cold.
She doesn't fall asleep for a long while. She's had trouble sleeping since she was a kid, courtesy of her father and his drunken actions, and tonight proves to be no different. She doesn't sleep until your fingers twitch against her stomach, and you mumble something incoherent.
Not until the silence starts to feel less like punishment and more like peace.
Nat wants to get used to this feeling.
She knows she won't.
a/n: if u actually clicked on the song hotlink in the title. yes. take certain lyrics literally.

#natalie scatorccio#nat scatorccio#natalie scatorccio x you#natalie scatorccio x reader#nat scatorccio x reader#nat scatorccio x you#yellowjackets#yellowjackets x you#yellowjackets x reader#ladles (fics/blurbs)#butter knives (sfw)#from the cutlery drawer
247 notes
·
View notes
Text
mistletoe.
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: mistletoe | wc: 999 | rating: teen & up | tags: alternate universe- no upside down, alternate universe- flower shop au, eddie pov, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, confident!steve harrington, fluff, getting together, first kiss, background buckingham mention
It’s chaos.
Clippings, and rogue petals, and ribbons that still need to be tied into bows as far as the eye can see. Long tables lined with crinkling plastic to protect the aged wood take up the center of the room, and somewhere off in the distance, Eddie can hear Chrissy on the phone with what sounds like a disgruntled, last-minute customer.
“... Sir, it’s December. Most of our poinsettias have been reserved for weeks. We have two left that we can give you. You can have them, or you can—”
Eddie’s sure Chrissy’s about to kindly tell the phone stranger to go fuck himself and he couldn’t be prouder of how far she’s come, really, but he loses the thread on the conversation when Steve bustles in from the back.
“How many carnations does one middle school Winter Wonderland dance need, anyways? Are there even this many kids in the town?” In his warm, forest green jacket and black beanie with wind-flushed cheeks and rosy nose, Steve exhales and sets the box of carnations down on the counter.
“Enough to pay the rent this month with carnations alone, apparently,” Eddie jokes, tapping Steve’s jean-clad shin with the toe of his boot. “We’ll be here all night doing these ribbons, won’t we?”
He tries to make it sound like a chore, like something he hasn’t been looking forward to since Chrissy told them she had a date and couldn’t stay. Any amount of alone time with Steve is welcome, even if it means tying tiny bows on small carnations and pricking his finger a hundred times with the stupid little pins.
“Probably, yeah,” Steve shrugs with a smile. “It’s not so bad though, right?”
“Not at all.” Eddie bites the inside of his cheek to keep from beaming.
When Chrissy wraps up her part— invoices, confirmations, and all of the paperwork shit that Eddie and Steve are better off leaving to Chrissy— she practically skips out of the office with a wave and a smirk.
“You do know that if she and Robin hit it off, this is gonna be a regular thing, right?” Eddie jokes, hoisting himself up to sit on one of the tables and grabbing a ribbon to wrap around another flower.
“Robin hasn’t stopped talking about Chrissy for months. This is going to be our life, Ed. Mark my words.” Steve laughs with Eddie’s favorite crooked smile, the one that only ever seems to be targeted at him.
He tries not to let Steve’s phrasing dig its claws too deep into his lovestruck brain, but our life wiggles its way in regardless.
Eddie looks around and takes in all of the fine details— a half-eaten bag of plain chips, two cans of coke, carnations and ribbons strewn about in somewhat orderly piles. Chrissy left the radio on when she left, the station alternating between the top hits and classic holiday songs, and Steve bobs his head to Wham!’s Last Christmas.
This could be their life; not just the tumultuous riptide of highs and lows, but all of the mundane minutiae in between.
Eddie and Steve.
EddieandSteve.
“You okay? Stab your thumb again?” Steve asks, tearing Eddie from his reverie.
“Yes, and actually, yes,” Eddie laughs, breathy through his nose, and wipes his thumb on his jeans. Before Steve can grab his hand and check him over, and probably push Eddie over the edge into doing something incredibly fucking stupid in the process, he brushes it off. “It’s fine. Let's get these bitches done.”
Hours pass, quickly and comfortably, and they eventually tie their last ribbon.
“We did it, Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie celebrates, hopping off of the table and tossing the last carnation into the box. “Do you still have skin on your fingers? I don’t think I have fingerprints anymore.”
“Now would be the time to go commit some crimes,” Steve snorts, his nose wrinkling, and Eddie wants to kiss him right on the mouth. “Before you head out though, I uh, I think we forgot one. Close your eyes for a second.”
“What?”
“Just close your eyes? Please?”
Eddie does as Steve asks because he’s helpless to not, his brows knitting together in confusion because closed eyes. He hears rustling and the sound of scissors snipping ribbon. What’s so special about this carnation? What’s so secretive that Eddie has to close his eyes and miss valuable alone time with Steve? Doesn’t Steve get it? Every second with his eyes closed are seconds he doesn’t get to stare.
Steve’s stool slides against the tile floor, scraping as Eddie feels Steve standing closer. Close enough that he can feel Steve’s breath against him when he says, “Okay, open your eyes.”
In front of him is Steve Harrington, his favorite smile, and wide, hesitant eyes holding a hastily tied together bundle of mistletoe just above their heads.
“I know it’s not Christmas yet or anything, but I couldn’t wait.”
“You’re not fucking with me?” Eddie asks, heart clattering in his chest as hope gouges its way out of its deepest recesses.
“Definitely not. I really like you, maybe more, and I know I didn’t have to wait for some big moment but tonight, just the two of us, it felt right. If I’m wrong, I’ll chuck this in the garbage and we can never bring it up again but—”
Eddie launches himself at Steve, both arms wrapping around Steve’s neck.
Maybe he should’ve taken it slower— maybe their first kiss should’ve been patient, tender— but he’ll have other opportunities to show him the softness he deserves. Instead, Eddie kisses Steve just like he’s fallen in love with him: spontaneously, impulsively, urgently. Steve drops the thicket of branches and pulls him in closer, one hand balling the edge of Eddie’s shirt up in a fist by his hip and the other cupping the back of Eddie’s head, meeting his intensity wordlessly.
Through the murky daze of Steve’s lips against his, Eddie hopes that this is their life.
#steddie#steddie fanfiction#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#steddieholidaydrabbles#myblurbs#inspired by my husband's family owning the local flower shop#(please do not expect your local florist to pull poinsettias outta their asses)
326 notes
·
View notes
Note
i can see the trio dangerously driving to or from a party. they’re speeding down the empty road, the new future album blasting from the speakers of topper’s jeep. kelce is up front, and reader and rafe are in the back. reader is a bit drunk and rafe is high out of his mind and can’t control his feelings for reader so he starts getting touchy with her, maybe trying to kiss her. since you’re just starting this au out, i’m curious to know how do you think reader would react and if she did kiss him back, how would topper and kelce react?

the last line of coke was a mistake—it made him lose the last bits of his self control. it was clear that he was way too high to drive, even though it seemed like rafe always drove clear-headed or not, so you were assigned babysitting duty in the back.
top was on a rager today, even worse than his usual ones. whenever him and sarah started fighting, he got like this, currently blasting some future song at the highest volume possible, speeding through the streets of kildare. you would be a little scared, except kelce is driving while topper nurses yet another beer in the passenger seat. you're deliciously drunk, still gone from the drinks you had at the party, not a care in the world except making sure rafe doesn't keel over in the back.
you mumble along the words to the song, pretty much engraved in your memory from how often it was played. you don't know how it happens, your fingers just find rafe's hair, brushing it out of his face while he talks to top and kelce in the front, amped up and loud, acting as crazy as you've ever seen him. you giggle, continuing your motions.
topper begins some rant about his girlfriend, or rather, his ex, while rafe locks eyes with you. it's hard to keep eye contact, looking away the second rafe shuts up and focuses on you completely. you're never shy around them but this might be the closest you've gotten.
you feel rafe's hands on your exposed thighs, your tiny skirt ridden up in the seat. his touch feels good, in your drunken state you don't think there's anything wrong with it. he's just being friendly, being touchy, being rafe. he strokes the soft skin of your legs, running his hands down to your ankles, while you shift around in the back. all it would take is one look from the boys in the front to see that something's going on back here.
"rafe, listen to top he's talkin-"
"shh," rafe says, noise completely overlooked by the others, nothing audible except the thump of the bass. he takes your face into his hand, leaning in close. "shut up for a second." he kisses you, briefly, barely, lips touching together and your eyes fluttering shut, when kelce slams on the brakes. the two of you fly apart, your heart thudding for an entirely different reason now.
"what the fuck, kelce, my brakes-" top starts.
"it was a deer, you idiot. you guys okay?" he turns to look at you and rafe in the back, your face flushed and rafe's hands still on your legs.
"fine," rafe mumbles. the four of you head back to tannyhill, you crashing on rafe's bed like always while top and kelce take the guest room down the ball. the two of you are out before you can bring it up, but rafe doesn't forget about it.
in the morning, you stretch, the oversized shirt of his you'd put on for the night riding up. rafe doesn't wait another minute.
"so, about last night. in the car." he looks at you, waiting for your response.
"oh, rafe, don't apologize. it's okay. we were both pretty gone."
"m'not apologizin', i-"
"and i mean, who hasn't been there once or twice-"
"once or twice?"
"and i kissed kelce that one time, so i guess-"
"you kissed kelce?" rafe looks at you like you've committed a crime.
"what? it was new years."
"where the hell was i?"
"i don't know, probably sucking some girl's face off. i was busy making out with kelce, remember?" you laugh, getting up and looking for your clothes. rafe lays back down on the bed, deciding he's never leaving you alone with kelce ever again.

#this was... incredibly incredibly fun to write.#you are an ANGEL For sending this prompt i could picture it so vividluy#i hope you love <333333 thank you so so much for engaging and liking it!#📮 asks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#kook trio reader
650 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sorry, Mom. I'm The New Cleaning Lady For Heartsteel
Pairings: various!Heartsteel x f!reader
Status: on-going (Cross posted on AO3)
Content/Warnings: 18+ content, explicit themes, suggestive language
Summary: Identity theft was a crime—that was obvious. But when it meant paying off the bills for basically existing and your mother’s hospital expenses, committing a felony didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was like that one quote, from that one band, with that one hit song: “Two sides to a story but they never tell me side.”
Or…something like that. Wait, what was their name again? Heartsteel? Sounds like a dating sim game.
[Reader takes the identity of her mother, who had been hired to be the new cleaning lady for an up and coming boy band named ‘Heartsteel’. Obviously, there’s no way they would ever find out. But that was a joke. Because they’re definitely finding out: one by one.]
“You…brought your own cleaning supplies?”
“You always need to be prepared, young man,” you replied, adjusting your duck-yellow cleaning gloves. They squeeked and flopped comically around your hand and fingers.
“Ma’am, you do understand today is solely the house tour.” The man folded his arms neatly against his chest, white brow raised. “In order to rely on you fully, you’ll need to be familiar with the estate first. I thought we discussed this beforehand. That and…we have cleaning supplies to provide you with here.”
You paused at the grand modern entrance. You lifted your bucket full of sponges, brushes, and cleaning spray from the dollar store. 'Buy-one-get-one' on all cleaning supplies was the grand deal of the day. How could you pass a penny-pinching bargain? Swallowing your shame, you settled the cheap items on the pristine granite floors.
“Oh, is that so? Must’ve slipped my mind. Age will do that to you.” You forced a chuckle, adjusting your sterile mask across your youthful face. “That and, I have such a passion for cleaning. I can't help myself. I see the inside of a house, and I just have to clean it. I’m sure you could understand that.”
“I don’t believe I could,” your employer said dryly. “Anyway, if you will, follow me.”
You nodded and shuffled along accordingly. As you stared into the back of his immaculately pressed business attire, a new-found horror struck through you: you had no clue what your employer’s name was. Frantically, you scavenged your pockets. From it, you pulled out a business card, holding it so close to your face you smelled the tinge of clean cologne.
YONE
RIOT RECORDS
DJ / PRODUCER
EMAIL: [email protected]
TELEPHONE: XXX-XXX-XXXX
“The bottom floor consists of all of the amenities; gym, entertainment area, recording studio and so on.” Yone stated as he stepped into the open-kitchen plan. When he regarded you again, you awkwardly plunged the card back into your pants pocket. “The boys have their own scheduled chores every week. They’re expected to do it without you having to help them. I’m trying to keep them humble, but easier said than done. Refer to the chore calendar on the fridge. And try not to interfere with it too much.”
“Okay—who switched my protein powder with flour?” Behind an opened cabinet, a heavy-muscled stacked man growled. “Guys. Seriously. This stuff’s expensive. Where’d it go?” When he poured the contents out into the trash can, he plucked out a note from the bottom of the canister. The small print read:
‘Protein powder tastes like dog food.’’
The weight of realization punched him square between the eyes. He threw open the pantry, where dog kibble was stored in a tub at the bottom marked ‘Ernest’. Sett pulled open the container, and sure enough, found his protein powder and scooper. There was no mistaking his favorite smell of cinnamon crunch isolate, now mixed with the scent of dry-bacon kibble. Another note pasted the inside lid:
‘Woof–Woof ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ’
“A–phe–li–os,” the name gritted between his canines. His ears flattened against his untamed hair, and crumpled the note to dust in his palm. “Oh–Ho. Mess with me all you want; but never mess with my gains. I’m gonna’ prank him back so hard tonight, he’s gonna’ be begging me to stop.”
“Sett,” Yone coughed, grabbing the Vistayan's attention. “We have a guest today. Our new cleaning lady.”
“Oh, sorry about that.” Sett wiped his powdered hand against his sleeveless shirt. He reached and took your rubber glove with a squelch. “Hey, how’s it goin’, Ma’am. The name’s Sett.”
You swallowed hard, hoping your glove would remain securely covering your hand. You feared if he pulled back, he would reveal a hand that wasn't so wrinkled for someone supposedly in their late-fifties. And that was according to your mother’s age printed on her driver’s license. Thankfully, you could tell he restrained himself to a delicate shake.
“Would talk more but gotta hit the gym. Nice meetin’ yah though,'' Sett started away, and called back over his shoulder. “Mom, can you take care of Phel for me? I dunno' where he hid the dog food for Ernest.”
Yone exhaled a silent sigh, and part of you felt pity for your employer. He seemed like a parent with a tag-team of overbearing children running around the house. Being a single parent was difficult; you knew this first hand from your own up-bringing. It made you grateful for your mother’s patience and attention. It was the reason you were here in the first place.
“Let’s continue with the tour upstairs,” Yone said, motioning you to a loft-style staircase. “The second floor consists of all the bedrooms and laundry room. At the end of the hall is my room. As it stands, it’s completely off limits to everyone, including yourself.” He turned a sharp chin in your direction, “Am I understood?”
You gulped and pressed your shoulders straight. “Of course.”
“Mommy, help me!” A bed of green hair bounced to Yone’s side, tugging at his tailored suit. “Kayn’s bullying me again. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”
“You’re such a crappy liar.” The presumed assailant, Kayn, stomped out of the hallway bathroom. Magenta hair stuck to his furrowing brows. With just a towel wrapped around his steaming waist, his abdominal muscles tensed, pointing aggressively at his target. “I was trying to shower in peace, until bubblegum pop princess over here came barging in trying to take selfies of himself. Did you know people usually shower naked? I’d like my junk not to be posted on social media, unless I’m the one doing it. For cash.”
“It’s not my fault you’re always going over your shower limit. News flash: we each only get fifteen-minutes. But you’re always breaking the rules! You know I take my selfies at the same time, at the same place, every single day. So how about you do us all a favor, and get some better time management?”
Kayn raised a vein popping fist into the air. “How about I get you a better face instead?"
Ezreal cried fake sparkling tears, cowering further behind their producer.
“Enough. The both of you,” Yone tightened around his words like a leash, restraining the quarreling pair. “For once, I’d like for you two to at least pretend you get along in front of others.”
The two whined and grumbled under their breaths till they fell to a silent agreement. But the peace treaty wasn’t upheld for long. You saw a zap of yellow from the corner of your eye. The image was so fast, you thought you must’ve imagined it—Nope. You definitely saw something. Kayn’s towel knot popped loose. And it wasn’t caused by an event of divine intervention.
The towel billowed towards the ground. And the world felt as if it was turning in slow motion, like one of those car chase movies with excessive explosions. Except, the only explosion here would be your very own heart.
Sure, you took an anatomy class here and there. In high school, you remembered the penis joke’s and games, and they never flustered you. Heck, not even when your friends set your desktop screen to a .gif of dicks spinning in circles—you found that hilarious. And when anatomy classes began in college, they were all very clinical, rudimentary, and otherwise a snooze fest.
But seeing one in real life when you’ve never had a boyfriend or a one night stand, was truly groundbreaking. Earth shattering, even.
Penis (en)counter: 1
While you were stuck in your prison of naïve embarrassment, Ezreal laughed and pulled out his cell phone, camera light shuttering a mile a minute.
“You little shi—!” Time sped forward again. With fast reflexes of his own, Kayn whipped the towel and knot back in place. “That’s it. You’re dead.”
“Uh–Oh. Time to run again,” Ezreal quipped, zooming off down the stairs.
With all bark and full bite, Kayn vanished like a cloud of smoke in pursuit. You coughed against the smog, while Yone merely swatted his hand back and forth, dissipating the gray wisps.
“You’ll have to excuse them,” he commented. “They share the same room, but have vastly different personalities. I arranged most of them together, thinking it’d help them understand each other on a deeper level. And ultimately, help them perform better together in the studio and on stage. My efforts are…yet to be determined.”
“That’s alright. Can’t be easy for young men their age to share anything. Especially with them being full of energy, testosterone, and other things. O-Oh, to be young once more…ah-ha…” you laughed nervously. Oh, God. What the heck were you saying? Honestly, you had to give pardon to yourself. You were still trying to recover from seeing your first penis up close and personal.
The image would be forever burned in your mind.
You were pulled from your self-conscious thoughts. Down the hall, a pair of shadowed eyes peeked through a sliver of door and frame. When your gaze locked together, the other pair of eyes shifted shyly from side to side. As if a poltergeist existed within the room, the visage faded back into the uncanny crack of darkness. The door creaked closed, with an audible click and lock.
Yone pursued straight to the door, and you stood a few paces back. If there was any chance that a ghost was inside living rent-free, you wouldn't be the first it possessed. You weren't a certified Ghostbuster.
But you also weren't a certified Dustbuster, either. No one will know, know one will know, you chanted the comforting hymn.
“Aphelios. Open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see the computer light flashing,” Yone stated, rattling the door knob. “Where’s the kibble for the dog? Sett told me you have it somewhere.”
There was a beat in the air. From behind the door, you heard feet pacing back and forth, and the sounds of finger taps against a phone screen. Yone’s phone pinged with an alert. He pulled it out, and opened his text messages.
‘I can’t open the door all the way. I set the bucket of dog food to fall on Sett’s head when he comes in. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ’
“For the love of…no more pranks today." Yone pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. "But I doubt you could even manage that. Whatever trap you’ve ensembled, take it down—now. And put the dog’s food back in the pantry. Unless you want to donate a cut of your earnings every month to Ernest’s pet store bill.”
Another pause, followed by begrudging phone taps.
‘Fine, m O T h E r…(¬_¬")’
“That might take him a few. Depending how intricate the set up was. I would be surprised if the only thing involved in this scheme was just the dog food.” Yone motioned you back down the stairs. “Last thing to see is the outdoor space.”
Continuing with the tour, you passed through the lower floor, stepping down a hallway decorated with awards and magazine clippings. From commercial modeling gigs to sold out venues, your eyes glistened at the polished look the group was slowly cultivating. Which you had to admit, completely contradicted their personal lives.
When you reached a sliding glass door that stretched from floor to ceiling, you stepped out onto a landscaped deck. Lush modern garden trims, a shaded outdoor lounge, and smooth sandstone pavement decorated the space. At the backend, an infinity pool rested in pristine stillness.
At the head of the pool, a person of sculpted bronze physique posed in swimwear on a lounge chair. When you approached along with your chaperone, he picked up his tropical drink, and tilted it in a cheering gesture.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mama gracing me with his presence. And look's like someone else is with him, too.” The man basking in the sun's rays and oil slicked, shucked his sunglasses onto his dread locks. “Let me guess. This must be the new cleaning lady you hired to pick up after our mess.”
“To a certain degree,” Yone replied. “But not all of the mess, K’Sante. Out of everyone, you should know better.”
“I only joke, Mama.” He grinned smoothly, taking a sip of his frozen alcoholic refresher. “Say, have you seen Sett? I told him to come join me for a tan by the pool. If he wants his muscles to truly pop, he needs to use some oil and not be allergic to the sun. The man is whiter than the sky is bright today.”
As he laughed to himself, Ernest left his chew toy at the far side of the pool, and came to sniff your shoes. With a smile, you slipped a very small piece of your long sleeve up, allowing him to sniff at your skin. The dog lapped his tongue around his slobbering chops, barking delightedly and pawing for you to pet him. You were more than happy to oblige.
These gloves came in handy after all, you thought pleasantly as globs of saliva fell in heaps over your fingers.
“What’s this? Ernest taking a liking to the cleaning lady already,” K’Sante mused at the sight. “Barely warmed up to us when we first met. We won’t mention the illegal trespassing but, call me impressed.”
With a wink, he flicked his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. “That or he has a ‘ting for older women. Can’t say I blame ‘em. An experienced woman has a certain power that’ll make any grown man cry. And from my own experience, it is never for mercy.”
Oh, boy. You couldn’t imagine your mother being interested in the cougar life-style. Not that you would approve of it. And you were certain your father would descend from the heavens and deliver the backhand of God to any young man who dared otherwise.
Before Yone could address the unsavory statement, Ezreal burst through the backyard sliding doors. Still possessed with laughter, he hopped and skipped over pool chairs and tables. The merriment stopped short when Kayn caught up to the cheeky idol, snatching his wrist which held the phone. From the staggering halt, the phone slipped from Ezreal’s hold, somersaulting towards the pool.
“M-My phone!” Ezreal paled at the thought of losing thousands of stored photos of himself—Oh, and the blackmail photos he was going to use against Kayn, too.
Yanking his wrist free, Ezreal pursued the device. But Ernest’s rubber hotdog toy squealed beneath him, forcing him off balance. Kayn latched an arm around Ezreal's slim waist, and pressed him safely against his bare chest.
He huffed against Ezreal's ear. “You can’t swim, you idiot. Remember? Just let it go.”
Ernest barked at the surmounting commotion. Being the valiant guard dog with the perfect pedigree, he bounded on his thick paws to catch Kayn by the towel, with all the intent to keep them both from falling in. What a good boy! Unfortunately for Kayn, Ernest bit a bit more than he could chew.
Kayn’s voice bass boosted ten-octaves lower. “MY DAMN ASS!”
W-Whose voice was that? Was that even the same person? The thought rattled through you.
A chunk of Kayn's soft meat condensed in the jaws of a furry devil. A shock travelled up the nerves of his spine, into the the muscle fibers of his arm, shoving Ezreal forward. Ezreal flailed his hands in the air, desperate to find some semblance of balance—with no luck, at all. Fumbling on his tip-toes, Ezreal plummeted into the pool with a splash. Kayn stumbled from the after-shock of his spirit being bitten straight through his buttcheeks. His feet met the cursed rubber squeaker, sending him following suit into the pool. Except, the towel had its own plans. It decided to stay behind and not get involved.
Penis (en)counter: 2
“I heard some commotion, fellas. What’s goin’ on?” Sett stepped out from the sliding doors. He caught witness of Ezreal’s face treading water, gasping for bouts of air. Sett’s muscles popped at the sight, barreling towards the scene. “Don’t worry, Ez. I’m coming for yah, buddy!”
Sett launched himself into the air, preparing the most athletic Olympic dive ever conceived.
Kayn inhaled sharply as he broke through the water's surface tension. Recuperating his breaths, he slicked his wet hair back from his face. Looking down at the waters crystal reflection, an odd shadow grew in size around him. And according to the forecast earlier; there was no chance in Hell of clouds or rain. Lifting his nose to the darkening sky, he blanched in sheer horror. A body, massive enough to eclipse the sun, hurled down like a meteor descending to Earth.
What day was it today, Doomsday? He must've forgot; Kayn never bothered to look at calendar's, anyway.
Back to the painful mistress that was his life; a weak, painful moan escaped him. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the cool death I deserve—”
Those were Kayn’s final words. A wave rivaling a tsunami consumed him, a random pizza chair float, and the immediate surrounding pool area. Standing in the designated splash zone, pool water soaked your soles, leached into your socks, and dampened your pants to the knees. From K’Sante’s spot, a shot of chlorine or two spiked his drink. He snatched his sunglasses off and shouted the words; “This was the last bit of banana daiquiri mix, you aboas! Now I have to go down to the liquor store and hope they sell it frozen already.”
Yone, with all the grace anyone could hope to be blessed with, merely side-stepped away. A single speck landed on his polished shoes. He narrowed his steely eyes, flicking away the insignificant drop.
You caught something flashing on the second floor of the estate. Looking up, you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun. From one of the windows, you spotted someone holding up a sign. You assumed it was Aphelios. The poster read:
‘4/10 Ezreal. 6/10 Kayn. 10/10 Sett.’
With a dramatic burst through the water, Sett hurled Ezreal over his massive shoulder, and walked out of the pool. Placing Ezreal onto his soaking back, he coughed and gagged against the awful taste of treated water.
He smiled at his new-found savior. “Thanks, Sett. I’m fine, but what about Kayn…”
The group shifted their attention over the silent, lapping water. After a bubble or two, the sight of Kayn’s bare bottom surfaced to the top. Floating like a wet and rounded land-mass, with the additional landmark of a pink dog-bite.
“Kayn! Hang in there, pal!” Sett launched himself once more into the water, creating another wave of soaking magnitude.
Although the drink had already been spoiled, K’Sante reflexively covered the top of his daiquiri glass. “For God’s sake, Sett. Take your time. It’s not like you’re saving the life of an innocent man.”
As chaos continued to ensue around the gang, Yone placed himself at your side. With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms, and sent a ghost of a smile your way.
“Welcome to Heartsteel,” he said. “Your first day starts tomorrow.”
Looks like your identity was safe…for now, at least.
an: thanks for reading! the rest of the this story will most likely just be on my AO3. You can find me @ milksuu. comments and suggestions always welcomed. <3
#heartsteel#league of legends#Heartsteel x reader#kayn x reader#ezreal x reader#aphelios x reader#Sett x reader#K'Sante x reader#Yone x reader#reader insert#league of legends fanfiction#cross posted on ao3#divider by @benkeibear
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
You've had many good takes on AI and copyright laws, so I was wondering if I could ask you about your views on plagiarism? I do know how generative AI works (it's not plagiarism). Also, I appreciate the stance that people shouldn't be able to own ideas (the basic foundation of anti-copyright beliefs), but if you don't own ideas, then doesn't that sort of make plagiarism a non-crime? That doesn't seem right to me. Or is it that credit =/= ownership and thus the two are separate things that can coexist where one is bad and the other is good?
Thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about something that I've been itching to talk about for a long time hehe. You're on the right track, my stance is EXACTLY that credit =/= ownership.
Copyright infringement is when you reproduce a work or part of a work in a way that was not authorized by its legal owner. It is a violation of ownership. Plagiarism is when you take work or part of a work that was created by the labor of someone else and present yourself as the creator. It is a violation of credit.
Since when it comes to intellectual works I respect the concept of credit but not the concept of ownership, I think plagiarism is universally bad in a way that copyright infringement is not.
I think part of the confusion around this topic comes from the fact that many people tend to conceptualize plagiarism as A Type Of copyright infringement (and afaik it is sometimes legally defined that way although I think that makes no sense for reasons I will explain in the next paragraph) because they often only encounter the term in relation to things that are both plagiarism AND copyright infringement at the same time (to name a high-profile example, what James Somerton did to other youtubers was BOTH plagiarism AND copyright infringement at the same time), so they end up mentally conflating the two terms, and consequently think that when people like me are defending copyright infringement we are also defending plagiarism.
But the way I see it, plagiarism and copyright infringement are two separate concepts. They sometimes overlap, but it's completely possible to have either one without the other. For example, if I were to grab a song from the public domain and claim that I wrote it, I would be committing plagiarism, since I would be claiming credit for work that I didn't make, but I wouldn't be committing copyright infringement, because no one owns the song. Conversely, if I were to burn copies of my CD collection and start selling them (or even just gifting them) to people, while correctly labelling them as the corresponding artist, I would be committing copyright infringement, since I would be copying and distributing the music without the legal owner's permission, but not plagiarism, since I'm not claiming credit for anything I didn't create myself. So at least to me it's an entirely coherent position to unconditionally defend copyright infringement without having that defense extend to plagiarism.
Causing further confusion between copyright infringement and plagiarism is the fact that a lot of people tend to unconsciously conflate the concepts of *creator* and *legal owner*, since they're not aware of how common it is in any professional creative industry for people to not be the legal owners of the stuff they create, and thus end up perceiving any violation of the ip holder's ownership as a violation of the creator's credit. The clearest example I can think of this was earlier this year when the Palworld devs were accused of plagiarizing designs from pokemon. I saw at least a few people say things along the line of "you might think they're sticking it to a big corporation but when they do this they're actually not stealing from nintendo or gamefreak, they're stealing from the hardworking artists who created those designs", which to me came off as completely ridiculous because none of those designs are in any way owned by the creators that made them, they're legally owned by the companies those artists work for.
204 notes
·
View notes