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awrkive · 10 months ago

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THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, pt. 1 — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 20k 😍

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, countless mentions of weddings and engagements, angsty undertones, it’s the… yearning? 97liners assemble lmao, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, explicit sexual content [dry h*mping, making out, c*nnilingus], alcohol consumption, arguments 🤓, i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me 🙏🏼 belated happy birthday jaykay, my forever muse❤️❤️

NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry this got delayed!! gave up on trying to make this a one shot cos it stretched out into 50k words IM SORRY! anyways check out my trello page for updates on my writing progress 🩷 make sure to comment down ur thoughts and like and reblog to circulate hehe !! asks are deeply appreciated!! scream your takes!! let me know what you think!! also made a spotify playlist for this mini-series soooo if u wanna listen to the songs that i think embody this fic, i've linked it below 🫶🏼

[ TLP MOODBOARD ] // [ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST ]

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

The girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations and a cute little beach wedding to boot. You’re the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. That girl who thought the guy she met at nineteen at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. The girl who thought that her boyfriend at twenty-one would finally be The One after introducing her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. You’re exactly the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.

Reality pretty much hit you hard with a big slap on the face; because you soon found out that your love interest doesn’t suddenly come into your life while you clock in your shift at a coffee shop, and there is no such thing as grand love declarations – no one wanted to profess their love to somebody at airports anymore, or even in the pouring rain, for god’d sake! And there is never going to be a beach wedding when there’s no one to do it with in the first place.

Because even if you do everything right, men just always somehow manage to do you wrong.

Your first boyfriend, Changsub, just suddenly ghosted you after you moved to a different town for college. When you saw him again for winter break, he was dating the girl from his History class – the blondie who was always the cause of your heated arguments in the lockers because you’ve always been jealous of her. Needless to say, you never talked to him again, and Changsub never bothered to reach out either.

At nineteen, you met Soohyun at a frat party your roommate invited you to. He was part of your college’s football team – the regular famous jock, and you felt a little bit special when he showed you a little bit of attention. When he chased you for a while, you caved in and had sex for the first time. You soon realized that was his thing – “popping them girls’ cherries” – as what you’ve overheard from his equally asshole teammates when you made an impromptu visit at their sweaty, stinky locker rooms – and that he apparently had a thing for girls in the cheerleading team (you were a part of it for awhile). Soohyun just told you it wasn’t working anymore. He was out and about with another girl three days later.

You swore at twenty-one, you were smarter. Heck, you got your heart broken two times already by then by the same brand of asshole with two different names and faces! You must’ve been a bit wiser, no?

But in your defense, Jaehyun was totally different from Changsub and Soohyun. He wasn’t an athlete. He was low-key… an introvert, and a total nerd. A film major guy who was so good at getting you through his art. He told you you were his muse, and you believed it wholeheartedly for the almost three years you’ve dated, most especially when he brought you to his hometown that one New Year’s Eve and introduced you to his family on your first anniversary.

You don’t exactly know what happened then… he just ran cold. Backed out of your plans of moving in together. Suddenly got so busy with his gigs when he normally would make time. Until the elephant in the room was acknowledged and it was just over before you knew it.

That relationship was your first “I love you”, Jaehyun said it was the same for him.

Fast forward, he gets married two years into the break-up, which is six years ago from the present. He has three kids now, two lovely girl twins and one boy. You didn’t go to the wedding, just sent him a post-it card that said you’re happy for him.

Which is true. He was your first love, but the heartbreak didn’t last long like you thought it would.

Because lastly, there was Eunwoo. The guy you met during the construction of the condominium near the apartment where you were staying at for med school.

Cha Eunwoo was an intern architect around that time, a nice one at that that it didn’t really take long for you guys to hit it off. Too many encounters on the street made you think that maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence anymore that he was there whenever you walked passed by. You really thought it would be difficult for you to love somebody again like how you loved Jaehyun… but Eunwoo made it easy. He did everything right. From the cute encounter, a grand love declaration in your fourth year together wherein he proposed to you in a romantic cruise ship dinner, down to the beach wedding he promised you during that night.

What was supposed to be a three-month engagement lasted longer than you both wanted, though. And it was mostly due to you because you told him you couldn’t marry yet. Not until you pass your licensure exam. Unintentionally, it stretched into a year. Eunwoo blamed it on your internship, said you were too busy that you couldn’t really give him time anymore.

You still remember that argument so vividly inside your head. When you said you told him already that it was life for you in residency. He rebutted with the sentiment that if you wanted to, you would. But you knew it was unfair of him to say that – not when he was also volunteering himself for the mountain of projects at his firm just so he could impress the senior architects there. Eventually, the engagement was called off. You two broke up. You both settled that it was the schedule conflict… you were just both so busy with your careers. Such big ambitions. So much to prove, passionate to a fault.

But two years ago, Eunwoo got married, and his wife is a general physician. The last time you two accidentally bumped into each other at a café downtown, he said he was “so happy and contented” that he felt like “taking a sabbatical to focus on being a husband”.

You guessed then he doesn’t actually mind dating doctors. Doesn’t mind making sacrifices for them. He just minds specifically you.

Your long, tragic dating history should already stop you by now from believing in love altogether. You mean, it just never works out for you, do they? The universe gives you a taste of what it’s like to embark on that journey, but it never takes you to the final destination.

But what can you say… love is just so special to you; romance, falling in love… they hold a significant place in your heart that you can’t help but bet on it every time it comes. You just have so much love to give – but unfortunately no one to give it to, because the men you date always don’t want you in the end of it all.

It bubbles up frustration in you, especially when you see all your exes getting fucking married left and right and them having the audacity to send you an invitation – and even thank you for what you’ve helped made them become. Eunwoo made that lame ass speech in the café. It’s such a subtle physical act of slapping you right on the bone of your cheeks and violently hurts you psychologically.

You’re frustrated that marriage seem to come easy for them, but never for you.

It’s why you unintentionally spat water out of your mouth when one of your co-residents, close friend, Nayeon, announced:

“Minhyuk proposed!”

Naturally, your other friends at the cafeteria attend to your spluttering, with Doyeon patting your back and asking, “Girl, are you okay?”

You shake your head repeatedly at them, tapping your chest to regulate your breathing, putting on a tight smile before turning to Nayeon.

“I’m sorry— what? Minhyuk proposed?” You ask her, and you don’t intend it to sound incredulous.

Nayeon, thank god, doesn’t notice it. And you realize it’s because she’s in a lovesick haze to care about anything else.

“Yep!” She almost squeals. “You guys are all invited to the engagement party next week on Friday.” She giggles when Doyeon pokes her side, lightheartedly teasing her about the wedding.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” You say, grinning widely, but your jaw hurts from the way you forced it. You look at each one of them; Nayeon, Doyeon, and Taehyung. “You guys are soon gonna be… married.”

Taehyung turns to Doyeon, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Doyeon’s still single, though.”

Doyeon throws a napkin at him. “It’s because your kind are bums. Anyway, Taehyung is also still not married.”

Taehyung pauses. Then, he purses his lips into a thin line, raising his eyebrows, nodding slowly.

“Well… about that…”

“He’s planning to propose to Hyerin!” Nayeon exclaims and quickly covers her mouth when some of the doctors in the cafeteria turned their heads to look in your direction. She shrinks herself small, as if realizing what she’s done, and then her eyes widen when she sees your guys reaction. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, Taehyung!” Nayeon quickly apologizes to him who looks like heaven and earth fell on him. She scrambles to say, “It’s just that I saw the ring in his locker today and so of course I have to ask and you guys met Hyerin, she’s an amazing woman and I’m so excited for her and Taehyung and she are a good couple aaand… I’m shutting my mouth.” She stops, closing an imaginary zipper over her lips when she notices the death glare Taehyung’s sending her way.

He turns to look at the rest of you.

“Well… you heard it from her.”

“Oh my god, Tae! This is insane!” Doyeon tells him. “When are you proposing?”

Taehyung shakes his head and rubs his nape. “I don’t know… she has this, uh, case that she’s confident on winning this Thursday. Maybe I’m going to do it when she gets home that day…” he trails off, and Nayeon coos at him when she sees his ears turning red. Doyeon throws back the napkin Taehyung threw at him, and she receives a juvenile pinch on the arm from Taehyung back.

You laugh along with them.

But deep inside, you’re finding it hard to process all the information that you learned today. You were just letting out words when you said that they were all going to be married, an exaggeration at best, because Nayeon is apparently now a fiancé, Taehyung has been in a long-term relationship with his prosecutor girlfriend that it’s easy to assume their next step is tying it down, and Doyeon is single but you refuse to believe that’s the case. It’s a wild theory that your friends have but you all feel like she has a secret boyrfriend or something.

Apparently, though, you’re not exaggerating at all. Because Taehyung is indeed planning to tie it down.

“It seems like everybody is getting married these days, no?” Doyeon mentions. She looks at you and you feel your heart beating abnormally for some reason. “What about you, __? How did that blind date last week go?”

She’s talking about the guy whom your cousin set you up with a few months back and have only gotten around to meet a week ago, Park Hyungshik.

They all seem to eagerly wait for your answer, and you can only meekly shake your head, sipping on a juice box so your jittering fingers can have something to do.

“It was okay.”

You can see the way their shoulders deflate, and you know you don’t need to explain the details for them to know how bad the date actually went.

“Fuck men.” Doyeon sighs.

“I agree.” Taehyung affirms, followed by Nayeon.

It earns a laugh from you.

“Fuck off, you guys.” You say, rolling your eyes, knowing they’re blindly judging Hyungshik in unconditional support for you. The joke is appreciated though, as it makes you light up and forget about the sudden grey that washes over your insides at the terrifying thought that maybe you’re never going to be married at this rate.

“You’re laughing right now but I’m still scared that you’ll just put up an IG story of you and Jungkook getting married on a random Sunday.” Nayeon suddenly says which elicits quite a violent reaction from you.

“Fucking gross, Nayeon!” You slap her on her arm and she gives you an ingenuine, “Owe!”

Taehyung laughs and adds in another nonsensical input, “That’s where my grandma and grandpa started, by the way. The line between love and hate is thin, after all.”

Your face contorts into a deeper frown every passing second as they continue to tease you.

“Fuck you, Taehyung. I’ll kill you in your sleep and me and Doyeon will hide the body.” You threaten him with your eyes and when he only laughs more, you make quick work of your hands and snatch out his egg omelet, putting it in your mouth fast enough he doesn’t get the chance to take it back.

“Aw, man! Hyerin cooked that for me!” He whines, going back to his seat, defeated after trying to get back the food from you.

But Nayeon is more concerned about another thing.

“Why is it only you and Doyeon? I can help hide Taehyung’s body, too!” She says, face painted with an expression so solemn as if you betrayed her.

“You made the joke first, you don’t get the privilege.” You cross your arms under your chest.

“I’ll commit perjury for you in court. Doyeon can’t do that ‘cos she still hasn’t told us about her secret boyfriend.” She insists.

Taehyung deadpans. “You guys really do love me a lot here, no?”

“We never pretended to love you, Taehyung,” Doyeon taps his arm, giving him a contrasting look of faux sympathy. “And for the nth time, I do not have a secret boyfriend,” She says dryly, sounding exhausted for having to say it again. And then, she turns to you, “Where is that punk, Jungkook, anyway?”

You scowl at her. “Seriously guys, why do you always look for him from me?”

“It’s just that you always know where he is, babe.” Nayeon says as a matter of fact. “No offense.” She says, looking straight into your eyes. When she sees your eyebrow raising higher, she adds quickly, “And malice!” And then she continues some more, “Even though I personally think you’d be cute together and all but we understand perfectly you both just have this sort of weird relationship where you’re platonic roommates and you’re like best friends but you argue all the time for no reason—”

“Oh my god, shut up, Nayeon.” Doyeon cuts her off before she goes on a spiral again.

“See why it’s only me and Doyeon who gets to hide Taehyung’s body when I kill him? You’re gonna tell the police word for word how exactly I did it.” You tell her, and she pouts at you.

“And we’re back to killing me again.” Taehyung comments, sighing, and you stick your tongue out at him in that juvenile manner, only that Taehyung does the same because he’s an even bigger child than you.

“Kids, stop fighting.” Doyeon warns. “Seriously, where is Jungkook?”

“He told me he has a laparoscopic cholecystectomy.” You say.

“Damn.” Comments Taehyung.

Everybody including you nod in understanding.

It’s always been an inside joke in your friend group that Jungkook and you are gonna end up marrying each other because you’ve known each other for a long time, the closest to each other, live together – and you both are also the ones that can’t keep a relationship.

After your breakup with Eunwoo in the middle of your internship which was four years ago, you took a break from dating for a very long time. It’s only two years ago that you picked up going on casual dates, having quick flings, all that sort of stuff. It’s an occasional thing and they never end up as something more.

It’s why you’re still single up until now, and it’s not even that you want to be so – you prefer to be in a happy, loving relationship, thank you very much – but you yearn for a deeper connection with someone, and every date just doesn’t seem to click. And even though you find a little ugly bitterness when somebody brings up marriage, you would never, ever want to settle down with somebody just ‘cause you feel like you have to.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is a special case. He’s single because he wants to be. He’s single because according to him, the bachelor life has “chosen” him and he can’t do anything about it.

It’s why he goes to this myriads of dates… with those… women. Sleeps around. Never attempted a serious relationship as far as you’ve known him except that one time in your last year of med school when he exclusively dated Min Sora for about a year.

You don’t judge him for the kind of life he lives. He’s just an admittedly good-looking, liberated guy who hooks up with good-looking women who are looking for the same fun as him. When you asked him if they ever do fall, he told you that they always agree prior sex that it’s just going be a one-time thing (two or three or four times if they particularly like each other… or whatever the hell he said).

Despite that, Jungkook is – and always has been your best friend. You met each other in med school and were in the same study group together with Doyeon and Taehyung.

As much as heartbreak is a constant in your life, Jungkook is a frontrunner in it as well because from being in almost all the same classes during med school for four years, you both decided to live in the same apartment unit together.

It has two different bedrooms, of course. The apartment’s a big unit he and Taehyung owned three years ago until Taehyung moved in with his girlfriend. Jungkook couldn’t pay for it all by himself, and the only logical roommate choice was you because when he proposed it to Doyeon, she just looked at him disgusted beyond belief.

You’ve been with each other for so long it’s quite impossible to not know the other like the back of their hand. You’ve seen him during his worst in med school days up until the years of your residency as does him you. You both shared the highs and lows of life with the other’s presence, and as much as you both quite differ in the way you approach certain things in life – he’s ultimately your person, the one-call-away friend (or the one-knock-to-the-door-friend), and the guy you can always lean on when things are just particularly hard to bear.

Jungkook may not be the most ideal when it comes to romance, but he’s the guy you’d certainly wish was your friend.

Why you don’t understand when the rest of your friends tease you both is because you’re so… platonic with each other. Sure, you’re closest – you knew each other first – but you and Jungkook never acted borderline sweet for other people to be making assumptions. You aren’t the kind of friends who call each other siblings but then get weirdly clingy towards each other behind everyone’s backs.

You may have had a tiny bit of crush on him when you first saw him during first year of med school – it’s a common fact that he’s handsome and whatever, okay – but he had never shown interest; from post grad all throughout the years of your shared residency. You never, either.

But maybe it’s the teasing, since you always fight like goddamn children whenever you’re near each other. There’s nothing romantic about it, though, you don’t think so. In your defense, that’s how your dynamic works! That’s how your friendship with everybody works! If you didn’t banter with a person, you probably hate them.

Shaking the thoughts of Jungkook in your head, you continue to eat your lunch, asking questions about Nayeon’s further plans, squeezing your break with the rest of your friends, knowing your pager is going to beep anytime soon.

What Doyeon said, though, everybody does seem to be getting married these days. If you could sigh, you would, but you have to do with a little bit of internal mulling for now lest one of the gang notices and you get interrogated for it. You don’t want to get aired out for feeling suddenly weird at the tough realization that again, everybody seems to be getting married and proposed to except… you.

You’re happy for them – you really are! You’d be such a shit friend if you weren’t. But there’s a pang in your chest and you know exactly where it’s coming from.

There was an added case to the OR schedule when you checked it earlier this morning, and you were assigned to it as per instruction from the chief of your team – a melanoma excision.

After your lunch, you went to scrub in for the surgery and it was what made you busy including the paper works needed to be done, so busy that you thought you’d forgotten the pain from a while ago.

Turns out, it sat at some bench at the far end of your heart, hiding and shrinking itself for a little while, only showing up when it’s time for you to clock out; in the quiet of the locker room, alone while you change out of your scrubs.

You let out a heavy sigh and lean your forehead to your locker door, closing your eyes and getting your breathing even.

You’re just tired from work. You tell yourself. You had two surgeries today; it would be true. But you know it’s not entirely that. It’s the reminder of your loneliness when you see an envelope peeking out from your locker.

You take out the invitation card for Nayeon’s engagement party she’s given you this afternoon. It’s a thick off-white material that has her and her fiancé’s name printed on gold beveled font. So intricate to the touch; you deduce once you run your fingers over it.

“Yo, what are you up to?”

You quickly stand up straight and hide the envelope behind your back, your other hand going right above your chest when you turn around only to see Jeon Jungkook approaching the inside of the room.

“Jesus christ, learn to knock.” You say, genuinely surprised and taken aback. Jungkook cocks a brow at you.

“Feisty.” He muses, and the way his eyes fall to your chest makes you realize you’re still in your bra having not put yourself into a clean and fresh top yet since you decided to have a sentimental moment in your locker door like some high school girl.

“Asshole.” You mutter under your breath, making quick work of putting on a shirt.

Only when you’re done wearing it do you see Jungkook stripping out of his own scrubs until he’s left with only his boxers across from you.

“Some decorum, please?” You tell him, turning around to sit on a bench to change out of your sneakers and wearing a more comfortable pair of sandals.

You hear Jungkook laugh behind you.

“What can I say? I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, you see.” You take a quick look at him so he can see how far your eyes roll to the back of your head. Jungkook ignores that, wearing his shirt while he says, “You’re out the same time tonight?”

You take out your ponytail and comb your hair through your fingers to fix it.

“Yeah. You?”

Jungkook smirks and suddenly there’s something flying at your direction. You’re quick on your reflex and manage to catch it on time, only to realize it’s his keys.

“You’re driving.”

It earns an instant groan from you.

Jungkook puts on another pair of shoes while laughing. “What? I drove us here this morning.”

You’re about to give him an attitude but then you realize making him pity you may be more effective. Stepping closer to him, you sit on the bench where he placed his foot to tie his shoes on. You look up at him and try your puppy face on.

“But I had two surgeries today, Kook.”

Jungkook stares at you, his expression unreadable. A few seconds pass by, with you blink up at him, and you think he’s gonna cave.

Instead of getting swayed by your poor attempt to get his sympathy, he takes down his leg and says with a sarcastic smile on his face, “I did a major one. Yours were both minor.”

Your shoulders deflate, making sure to jab at his thigh that was at eye level and snark, “And two is more than one. Fuck off, Jeon.”

Jungkook follows behind you while his boisterous ass is laughing.

“Don’t get pissed at me, are you kidding? It’s your turn to drive. Favor for a favor.”

You turn back to him, and because you were walking in a faster pace, he crashes to your back. He grips your shoulder, pursing his lips into a thin line, obviously holding in another fit of laughter.

“You’re gonna drive us tomorrow here, do you understand?” You say, giving him an ominous glare.

Jungkook raises his hands up. “Okay, okay.” He nods his head, and to piss you off more, he adds, “Bossy.”

That earns him a pinch to the side which he quickly dodges. Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and continue to head towards the exit.

You both enter his car soon after.

“I miss my car…” you longingly say, turning on the ignition to start driving.

“It’s still in the shop?” Jungkook asks while rummaging around his compartment glove to look for a snack. He always has a few in it. It’s convenient.

“Yeah, the mechanic told me it’s gonna take a few more weeks. So,” you look at him bitterly.

“That’s tough.” Jungkook comments, opening a granola bar and biting on it. He extends his hand to you. “You want some?”

You stretch your neck to the side, eyes still on the road while taking a bite off his food.

“Tough because you can’t bring your girls here anymore?” You joke a little. Jungkook gives you a dirty look. Your eyes widen a little, realizing what you just said. “Please say you don’t fuck in your car. I’ve touched your passenger seat and your backseat.”

“Give me more credit, yeah? I don’t fuck in my car, that shit is unhygienic as hell,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, and you heave a sigh of relief upon his confirmation. “I wine and dine my women before we do the deed, thank you very much.”

“You’re just so sweet, aren’t you?” You say with a straight face.

Jungkook sing-songs. “Just like how they like it.”

“You’re really beating them off with a stick these past few years, huh?”

“A gorgeous stick, might I add.”

That earns a disgusted groan from you, which he laughs at, and you drop the subject before it even goes to another place.

There’s a comfortable silence that sits on the air for a while until Jungkook speaks.

“Hey, what was that earlier?”

“Hm?”

“In the locker room.” He says.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Clearing your throat, you answer, “Oh, it’s just, uh… Nayeon’s getting married. Do you know that?”

“Yeah.”

You turn to him in surprise. “Wait, how? You didn’t eat lunch with us.”

Jungkook snorts. “I saw the invitation cards in her locker yesterday, she thought she was being discreet. She threatened me to keep it a secret when I asked her about it, though. I guess she told you guys today at lunch?”

“Oh my god, you really need to stop snooping in everybody’s locker.”

“I do not snoop in in everybody’s locker.”

You give him a certain look. Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

Letting out a heavy breath, you look straight ahead as you say, “I don’t know. I wasn’t doing anything…”

“Just getting a little sentimental in the locker room?”

“A bit.” You purse your lips. “But it’s not a big deal.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. From your peripheral vision, you can see him staring at you but you choose to ignore that, focusing on driving instead.

“If you say so.” He says after a while.

You’re thankful for the dismissal. Jungkook’s usually insistent that you tell him everything – he’s just nosy like that – but deep down you know it’s because he cares. And if you’re in any trouble, he’s always willing to be there for you may it be listening to you vent or eat unholy amount of Chinese take out in the middle of the night.

As you went on the road, he played a few of his playlists and they served as background noise as you both talked about your day, like how your surgeries went. It’s a usual drive when you’re both in the same car together – which you’ve done quite a few times now because after all, you work in the same building and gas is expensive. It’s the most logical way to save up in this economy.

These past few weeks, though, it just so happened that your car got a little bitchy and started to act up so you made a bargain with Jungkook.

Anyway, you both arrive at your apartment shortly, with Jungkook and you taking turns in the shower.

“You wanna order in something?” Says Jungkook who’s currently drying his hair, a towel wrapped around his lower half.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he’s some kind of exhibitionist. Jungkook has the habit of walking around the apartment shirtless and sometimes with just even his boxers on, and it’s not like you aren’t used to seeing it! You admittedly see a lot of it when you guys would change in the locker rooms back at the hospital, but that is work, and you have more things to worry about at work other than your co-worker changing in front of you.

Still, it’s hard to get used to his exhibitionist tendencies. You had a hard time with it especially in the first few months of living together, but you had to adapt, and right now, even though you can say you’re partly immune to it, his naked upper half still bothers you. A little.

Listen, you’re a human being with primal instincts and men who have good bodies do, in fact, distract you a tiny bit.

“Nope.” You take a sip of the glass of water, closing the refrigerator with your foot, looking at Jungkook who groans at your answer. “What?”

“I was hoping we could split the delivery fee.” He deadpans.

“Wow. And they say chivalry is dead.”

Jungkook laughs while you head towards your room. He follows you until you reach your door so you turn to him, putting your hand on your hip as you ask, “What?”

“Don’t think too much about it.”

Your furrow your brows. “How do you mean?”

“The wedding,” Jungkook says with a soft smile. “And weddings, in general. I know you’re thinking about a few things up in that smart brain of yours. Don’t.”

You’re completely taken aback by his words, but at the same time, you’re not at all that surprised. Jungkook can read you almost like an open book.

Still, you decide to lie.

“I’m not thinking about weddings, weirdo.”

“Liar,” Jungkook’s brow arches, and you know he’s figured out your shit. “Your nostrils flared up. You’re lying.”

You groan, giving him a light jab at his bicep. Jungkook chuckles.

“My nostrils do not flare up.”

“It does so,” Jungkook points out. “Like this.” He stands there on your door and start to purposefully enlarge his nostrils to imitate you.

You roll your eyes. “My face is not like that when I lie. Go back to your room,” you say, pushing him slightly out of your doorway, ready to close it in front of his face, but you add more, “And don’t bother me.”

Jungkook stands up straight and gives you a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” he says in a register octave lower, walking away with laughter as you tell him he’s annoying. You roll your eyes once again before finally closing your bedroom door.

A lot of people may judge your love for romance as naivety, but you really couldn’t care less. Even if you get heart broken countless times, love will never fail to make your heart soft and make you feel like you’re floating.

It’s exactly what you think as you look at Nayeon and her fiance, Minhyuk, on the stage huddled so close together, laughing and giggling to each other. They look so incredibly happy. So connected. So sweet. It brings a feeling of warmth to your heart – to see one of the most important people in your life finally meeting the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with. It makes you melt on the inside to see two people so deeply in love that it emanates in the whole venue of the garden their engagement party is being held at today.

The weather is sunny – not too hot, like the universe knows not to fuck it up for Nayeon and her fiance. There’s also a lot of people; their families, some of Nayeon’s friends and probably Minhyuk’s – people you’ve never seen before. You assume it’s Minhyuk’s friends or acquaintances. The guest list for their wedding must be big, but it isn’t surprising, given that Minhyuk comes from the big corporate world.

“You want more champagne?” Jungkook whispers beside you, ready to stand up from his seat.

You stare at him, and you notice his eyes are not even on yours. He has it glued towards a woman across from you. A pretty woman wearing a satin dress that shows off her slender figure. You notice Jungkook’s been looking at her since the beginning of the party.

Shaking your head, you scoff. “You’re just gonna pick up some woman.”

Jungkook sputters and quickly take his gaze off the woman. “No, I’m not. I just think she’s familiar.”

You raise your brow. “Let me guess… one of your hook-ups?”

Jungkook huffs. And then off he goes.

Everybody has their plus-ones except you two, and now that Jungkook is probably off his mission to find a hook-up for the night, you’re left alone as usual.

You don’t feel bad about it. The champagne is good and there’s hors d'oeuvre on the table.

“Miss?”

You look up, finding the owner of the voice.

And holy hell.

“Hi.” You greet reluctantly, not sure if he meant you. You’re also trying to contain a blush from spreading across your cheeks because goddamn, was the man beautiful.

He smiles. Wow. Whoever this is… he looks pretty damn good.

“Is this seat taken?” The stranger says, pointing to the now empty seat beside you. You look around but can’t really spot Jungkook.

So, you shake your head, gesturing to the chair beside you. “No, not really. You want to sit here?”

He nods. “Alone?”

“No, not really… but I’m Nayeon’s friend. I’m her co-resident at the hospital.” You smile, taking a sip of your champagne that’s already about to run out. “Are you one of Minhyuk’s friends?”

“You guessed right. Law school friends. Worked at the same firm when he was a practicing lawyer until he quit some time ago,” You nod at that, and he gives you a boyish smile again. He offers his hand for a handshake. “I’m Mingyu, by the way. Kim Mingyu.”

You take his hand.

“I’m ___.” You both laugh when you shake your hands together.

His hands feel rough but at the same time warm. It’s nice.

“You’re a doctor?” Mingyu asks, keeping up the conversation.

“Yeah. A resident surgeon.” You glance at him. “I’m assuming you’re a lawyer?”

Mingyu nods. “Yeah. Corporate.”

“I see.” You nod, looking in front of you again, trying to stray from any eye contact. He’s way too attractive for your own liking.

“Say… I hate to make this about work but I just need to ask real quick,” Mingyu says, and when you look at him, you furrow your brows at the worry in his eyes, suddenly growing nervous at the depth of seriousness it’s showing. “So, I got here, and I suddenly have this sort of… feeling of heart palpitation. Increased heart rate. It’s like it’s missing a beat and it’s been making me real nervous.”

“Oh,” you look at him in concern. “That’s— did you drink uh… coffee?” He shakes his head. You place your champagne glass on the table and turn your body to him so you can face him properly. You don’t know if it’s just the doctor in you, but you forget about pretty much everything when you see or hear someone feeling under normal. “Are you a smoker, then?” You continue your line of questioning.

“I quit years ago.”

“I see… okay, uhm…” You look around, trying to look for something. “There’s a lot of roots for heart palpitations. Does your heart feel like pounding right now? Flip-flopping or something like that?”

Mingyu nods.

“Okay… well I can’t say for sure – I wish I have stethoscope with me right now. But I’m gonna lay out all the possible reasons why you might be feeling so. Smoking’s out of the question. You didn’t drink coffee, but do you drink more than one cup in a day?”

“Not in the past few weeks, no.”

“So, you’re not overcaffeinated, then. I really don’t want to lay this out on you, but you might want to check in with your doctor if this is not your first time feeling this. Heart palpitations is normal most of the time but I’ve seen lots of people get in these situations and it ends up being arrhythmia, which is a really serious condition.” You look at him straight in the eyes.

Mingyu looks stricken back. “Well… are there any more reasons out there that’s not… as dangerous?”

You still in your position.

Oh, right. There is more.

“Are you feeling certain emotions right now? Like, really, strong emotion?” You say, internally face-palming yourself because how can you not remember one of the very basic roots of palpitation!

“Yes, I am.”

“Well… certain emotions do trigger your heartbeat to accelerate. It might be anxiety… fear, panic, stress…” You look at Mingyu, noticing that his once serious face is now forming a smile. That makes you back-track, but you hesitantly continue. “... infatuation.”

And then he says, “I think you’re right off the bat with that one.”

Your lips part slightly. A few seconds passed and then suddenly, what he’s doing registers in your head, and you can’t help but to let out a laugh.

“Oh my god,” You say in disbelief. “You weren’t– you weren’t actually asking for medical advice?”

“Bad way to flirt with a pretty woman, huh?” Mingyu smiles and it’s so dashing that you shy away from his gaze, but you’re still laughing at the turn of events.

“God, no. I can’t believe I didn’t get it earlier.” You say, gingerly placing a palm on your forehead at the embarrassment.

But Mingyu just laughs along with you.

“It was just bad flirting. I’m sorry,” He says, sipping from his glass and takes a glance at you. “I can do better.”

You arch your brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. If you let me. Say, Friday, ten o’clock?”

You chuckle. “That was really smooth.”

Mingyu was about to say something when suddenly, you hear a familiar voice approaching your direction.

“Mingyu?” When you look up, you see Jungkook. You eye him in confusion, wondering how the hell he knew Mingyu’s name.

But then Mingyu speaks and you grow even more confused.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

“Oh hey, it’s you,” Jungkook says, and he looks genuinely surprised. Mingyu stands up from his seat to give Jungkook a hug, slapping him on the back – kind of like how guys usually greet each other. You watch as Jungkook reluctantly reciprocates it.

“You work with Nayeon?” Mingyu asks, and even with a smile on his face, you can see he’s also in disbelief to be seeing Jungkook.

Jungkook nods at him, still looking a bit stricken. You can’t figure out if it’s just his surprised face or something else. You’ve never seen him look so… stunned like this before. Nevertheless, he says, “Yeah. How ‘bout you?”

“Been with Lee and Song for the past three years, Minhyuk’s previous firm before he quit and went out to the business world.” Mingyu chuckles, tapping Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook smiles. “That’s crazy, man. I can’t believe we’ll meet here again.”

Mingyu, seemingly sharing the same sentiment, says, “Man, it’s been, like, what– almost ten years?”

“Yeah, yeah, too long, man.” Jungkook nods, chuckling slightly.

You hate to interrupt, but you’re confused, and you need to confirm something.

“Wait,” You butt in, making them both look at you. “You know each other?”

Jungkook sits across from you while Mingyu follows.

“We did pre-med together during undergrad.” Mingyu says.

“You did pre-med in undergrad?” You look at Mingyu incredulously, and he nods with a bashful smile on his face. You squint your eyes at him, feeling slightly betrayed that he asked you all that stuff earlier when the whole while he has a pre-med degree.

Jungkook cuts in.

“How the hell do you two know each other?” He said, leaning back and pointing between you two. It seems like he’s finally out of the trance he was in earlier.

“I just met him today.” You tell Jungkook, blinking your eyes at him.

“Well, how about you two? How do you know each other?” Mingyu asks and the whole thing suddenly feels like watching a game of tennis somehow.

You’re about to answer when Jungkook beats you to it.

“We’re co-workers. Together with Nayeon.”

Mingyu nods his head and then turns to you, “So not his girlfriend, then?”

“What? No!” you didn’t mean for it to come out that violently, so you repeat it in a gentler manner this time. “I mean no. What?”

Mingyu turns to Jungkook who’s now looking confused.

“I was just asking her out for a date.”

You suddenly feel blood rushing to your cheeks at his straightforwardness. In front of Jungkook, out of all people! You aren’t embarrassed! You just feel weird and shy.

But Jungkook looks at you as if silently asking you if Mingyu’s being serious. You tuck your bottom lip under your teeth.

Then he nods his head slowly. “Really?” Jungkook chuckles, looking at you. “What’d you say?”

Mingyu looks at you with a hopeful smile. “What do you say?”

You feel weird about doing the whole thing in front of someone, but you look at Mingyu again – how attractive he is, his charming smile, his physique, and his charisma… and you don’t think it’d be too bad to chance at least one date with him.

So, you nod, avoiding Jungkook’s sudden way too intense gaze.

“I would like to,” But he cocks his head to the side. You chuckle, adding, “Yes, Mingyu. I’d like to go out with you.”

“Woah!”

“Jungkook, please knock!”

You look at Jungkook irritably while you lock your stud earring, standing up from your chair in front of the vanity table to pick up your purse from the edge of your bed.

“I was just going to borrow your hair dryer.” Jungkook says, trudging inside your room freely which makes you roll your eyes at him.

You watch as he expertly makes his way to your vanity table and slides one of the drawers, taking out the hair dryer.

“You need to buy your own one.” You say with a straight face.

But Jungkook just stands there for a while, and when his stare goes on longer than necessary, you start feeling conscious.

“What.”

“What are you so… dolled up for?”

You jab him on the chest when you get near him, enough to make him wince. “What an asshole way to say I look good.”

Jungkook laughs. Your heart drops.

Most of the time, you understand that your dynamic consists of teasing and bantering with each other until one of you gets pissed off. That’s usually you. But they never go too far – you’ve built a foundation of respect in your relationship which you love. However, sometimes, there are moments when you’re under a certain kind of pressure – like right now in which you only have twenty minutes before Mingyu arrives to pick you up outside of your building complex and you still haven’t done your hair – and Jungkook laughing while looking at you is not helping.

The faux confidence falls as fast as that.

“Okay, Jungkook, can you just tell me nicely if this dress looks ridiculous or if I put too much make-up on?” You say, failing not to sound defensive.

Jungkook’s quick to halt his laughter, and he looks taken aback at your clipped tone.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You were laughing at me.” You point out, turning around to rummage through your make-up products scattered on the top surface of the furniture, thinking that maybe you overblushed. So, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Jungkook situates himself on your vanity table so you’ll look at him.

“Wha— you thought I was laughing at you?” You don’t answer, checking if your cheeks are way too pink, purposefully ignoring him. “Okay, that’s– I wasn’t. I’m sorry if you thought I was. I laughed at your words, not the way you look.”

You let out a sharp breath, look at him angrily, ready to present more argument, but you see the look of sincerity on his face and you realize then that you’re being borderline sensitive.

You sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Jungkook places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You pout at him. “It’s just… first date jitters. I feel slightly anxious, I don’t know,” You sigh again, “I bought this dress two days ago.” You say, looking down at it. It has a tube top with thin straps, fitting your upper half like a glove but flows prettily to the bottom, stopping just about four inches above your knee.

“It looks good on you.” Jungkook comments, and you quint your eyes at him.

“You swear?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie?”

“To make me feel better, I don’t know,” Then you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway, does my make-up look okay? I didn’t put too much blush?”

“You have lipstick on your teeth,” Jungkook says, baring his own to emphasize what he meant.

“Shit.” You panic, quickly ducking down to check it in the mirror.

You soon realize Jungkook was fucking with you when you hear him laughing beside you.

“I hate you.” You hiss, pushing his thighs so he can get off your vanity table. He remains on his seat, fighting your force while laughing. “Ugh, don’t you have a date of your own or something?” You groan as you take the hair straightener on the side, sitting back down again on the chair to straighten a certain part of your hair again so it’s looks nothing but perfect.

“Ohh, so you are going on a date.” Jungkook says as if he wasn’t there in front of you when Mingyu asked you out.

You give him a weird look. “With Mingyu, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He’s quiet for awhile, and then, “You’re really dating him?”

You put down the hair straightener.

“Yeah… why?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nothing.”

But you want to insist. “He’s your friend. You told me he’s a nice guy.”

He nods his head. “That’s true.”

You eye him suspiciously. “You’re making me nervous.”

Jungkook chuckles and pats your head. You scowl at him and slap his wrist.

“You’re like a cat,” Jungkook comments. “Anyway, I told you, it’s nothing. It’s just…” He trails off. You look at him, waiting for his continuation.

You don’t expect the genuine smile he sends your way.

“I wish it works out for you this time.”

Lips parted, you think about what to say to that, but nothing comes out of your mouth.

Jungkook gets off the table and brings with him your blow dryer. Before he heads out completely, he tells you, “And don’t worry about how you look. Mingyu likes pretty women. You’re exactly his type.”

“Really, mini-golf?” You ask Mingyu, but he already has his fingers intertwined with you as you both enter the course.

You’ve just had dinner at some fancy restaurant that served, admittedly, good steak. He told you it was some sort of special place for him; where he takes himself to whenever he closes a deal or wins a case. You tried not to think too much about what it meant that he brought you there – given that you’re only on your first date.

But hey, maybe he thought you deserve to eat good steak? That’s probably what it was.

You don’t ask.

You thought the night was over when you finished your meal and good two glasses of Malbec, but Mingyu commented in his car that he’d love to burn off the food for a moment – and you didn’t really want to leave just yet.

So, you end up at Pier 26, and Mingyu’s enthusiastic.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He says, and you have no choice but to follow behind him.

“I really don’t know how.” You tell him, smile bashful as you watch him carry the golf club, walking towards the direction of the ball.

“What’s up with that? I’ll teach you,” Mingyu says, putting down the club and unbuttoning his cuff to push his sleeves up to his forearms.

You try not to focus too much on the veins that show up at the action and how his biceps are almost fighting to pop out of his sleeves. His hands look so big compared to yours when he offers it to get you to stand beside him.

“Really? You’re gonna teach me like a big… macho man?” You tease, taking his hand nonetheless.

Mingyu smiles once you’re beside him, placing himself behind you, guiding your hands so you can hold the club together.

You can feel his breath on your neck as he instructs you what to do. “You just have to stand like this,” He lets go of your hands in favour of your hips, and your breath hitches when he whispers, “Look ahead, and you just… let go.”

The golf ball jumps out of the line and you giggle at the way it completely misses the hole.

“That was… wow.” Mingyu says, staring at the ball.

“Shut up! Okay, okay, I’ll try it alone.” You say, dismissing his incredulous look, a bit embarrassed at your performance.

From your periphery, you see Mingyu closely watching you as you grip the golf club a little less tight this time so it’s not too tense when you hit the ball. Squinting your eyes, you eye the goal and let out a controlled breath. You relax your posture just like he taught you and when you finally hit the ball, it lands right in the hole perfectly.

You turn to look at Mingyu immediately with widened eyes, and when he gives you a huge grin, you do a little jump out of excitement.

“Oh my god, I did that!”

Mingyu chuckles at your enthusiasm. And due to the high of hitting the goal once, you agree to another round until it turns into a session.

You only stopped when you got tired. Nonetheless, you realize it’s actually something you’re good at, and that geeks you inside. Meanwhile, Mingyu suggested you walk around the park for a little while.

Mingyu told you he was just going to buy some food at a stall, but as you sit on the bench to wait for him, you think about how you’d like to go with Jungkook here some time to challenge him to mini-golf. You almost always never beat him to any games… surely, he must not know mini-golf, right? You can finally have the upper hand, if ever.

“Ice cream?” Mingyu returns from the stall and extends the cone to you. You try not to show your wince. You’re lactose intolerant.

“Thanks.” You say, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. It’s not that bad, and you want this date to be perfect. Mingyu joins you on the bench.

The night’s cold and you regret not bringing your blazer with you and leaving it in his car instead.

“You know,” you start to strike up a conversation. “I’m still pretty shocked you studied pre-med.”

Mingyu chuckles. “Why?”

“I don’t know… but in hindsight, I should’ve known the moment you asked me about “heart palpitations”.” You say, quoting the last two words, trying to tease him.

“I really thought that was a good idea, huh?”

You snort. “It was–” you gesture with your hand, pursing your lips. “Pretty lame, yeah. But admittedly… it was cute. So, there.”

Mingyu laughs. “Thanks. I also thought that was a brilliant way to flirt with a doctor.”

You shake your head, laughing at him.

Silence sits in the air for a while until he speaks.

“You know what they say? Study law when you don’t know what to do after getting a degree, so law it was.” Mingyu shrugs.

“You didn’t see yourself as a doctor then?” You ask curiously.

“Not really. Didn’t really think too much about it when I chose a pre-med program as my major. Soon realized it wasn’t for me. I was lost in law school too for a good couple of years, though. But I love it now,” Mingyu looks at you who’s intently listening. “You? You always wanted to be a doctor?”

You look ahead, nodding. “For as long as I can remember.”

“Just like Jungkook, huh?” Mingyu chuckles. “He really wanted it a lot. I remember him excelling during those moving tests. He had a lot of people getting jealous over him for balancing his school and basketball lives so well, you know?”

You furrow your brows. “He did basketball?”

“Yeah. We were in the varsity team together.”

“Hah.” You smile. Jungkook. A jock. “That makes sense.”

“That I’m a jock?” Mingyu asks with a teasing smile on his face.

You didn’t mean him, but regardless, you nod, finding that it also applies to him. “You look like someone who plays basketball.”

“And what’s the diagnosis of that, doctor?” Mingyu leans closer.

You nibble on your bottom lip.

“Let’s say you have a… chronic jock face.” You say, not backing down from Mingyu’s sudden challenge of eye contact.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Is that a good thing?”

You chuckle. “It just means that you are conventionally attractive.”

“Ah,” he nods, but you notice his hand making its way around your waist. You don’t make a move to protest it. “Then, can a conventionally attractive guy like me chance a kiss with a pretty girl like you?”

Your breath hitch when he leans his face closer. One more inch and his lips will lock against yours.

“Yeah.”

Mingyu doesn’t waste a second longer and leans in to plant his lips on yours. It’s nothing short of a peck when he breaks away from the contact, but when you look up at him with parted lips, he goes back to kissing you again, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him better, this time taking you closer by your waist.

It starts off as something experimental, like he’s testing the waters first. But when you take out your tongue to prod the side of his mouth, he does the same and inserts his tongue in yours.

You did not really think that you’d end up making out of some bench at a park, but here you are.

“Oh,” you unintentionally let out a low moan, and you hear a guttural sound coming out from his throat. Your hands come up to fist his collar as some sort of support, and Mingyu responds with a slight pinch to your hip.

You break away from the kiss to regain your breathing, and Mingyu takes that as an opportunity to plant kisses across your cheek down to your jaw. Sighing at the sensation, you close your eyes as you let yourself get drowned in the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.

But when you open your eyes, you see people walking by at a short distance and that’s when you wake up from your trance.

“Mingyu,” You call him, but he’s too busy kissing your neck. “Hey, I think we shouldn’t do this here.”

Mingyu stops. Then, he looks at you, eyes hooded, hair a mess, his lips swollen, some of your lipstick getting on it.

Your blood flows to your cheek at the sight. He looks unbelievably hot. God, what more if he was under you and you were doing more than just kissing and– no, no. Not going there. Absolutely no thoughts of … there.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Mingyu says after seemingly snapping himself out of the trance as well. “Shit. I really am.”

He looks so apologetic, so you put your hand over his arm.

“It’s fine. Just uh… let’s take it slow?” You tell him.

Mingyu gives you a small smile.

“Slow. Yeah. Let’s do it slow.”

What's the definition of slow, anyway?

The tension at the park was too much and you made out some more in his car with heavy petting that may have included Mingyu copping a feel of your boob and you coyishly feeling out the bulge in his pants.

Safe to say, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

You started coming over to his place, but you still haven’t had sex. Not yet at least. You haven’t even taken off your clothes in front of each other yet. Suddenly, you remember being eighteen and just making out with your boyfriend – the territory of any form of sex prohibited for some reason. Somehow, you two have never gotten around that for the past few weeks you’ve hung out. It may be because you always stop it before it happens, but it’s not because you don’t want to; just that it feels like you’re going to a place you won’t know how to go back to.

So, it’s mostly date nights, a sneaky coffee hung during the afternoon when you’re not particularly busy and your schedule aligns, and making out in his car until your pager beeps or when his phone rings.

And as good as Mingyu may be with his lips when he locks them with yours, he’s more than what you thought he was.

You have to admit that you had doubts when you first met him. You don’t trust a lot of good-looking men, because they always end up being assholes. He also has the face of a guy who – in a cliche fashion – likes to break women’s hearts on a regular basis. You went to the first date a little hopeful of something real, but you knew your luck with romance isn’t the best – may be the worst you’ve ever known – but recently, you’re starting to think that maybe the poison’s wearing out and Mingyu may just be… decent.

Decent enough to be a boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

And it feels so weird to think so. You’ve been single for so long, and sure, you went to a lot of dates during the past two years but Mingyu’s going on two months, and everything just seems so… right. Like this can be it.

You hate having wishful thinking. You hate getting your hopes high. But god, he makes it so hard.

“You going with us later?” Nayeon asks, stretching her neck while looking at you.

You’re all currently at some abandoned ward at the hospital where you take quick breaks from your shift to eat or talk for a while.

“Where to?” You ask, taking a bite off Taehyung’s egg sandwich which he gave you earlier.

“We’re going out for barbecue tonight. Jungkook didn’t tell you?” Doyeon says, coming back from her quick trip to the vending machine.

You look at them confused. “No, he didn’t tell me about… barbecue or going out.”

As if on cue, Jungkook arrives in the scene.

“She’s not coming with us,” Jungkook says, and you look at him with visible offense on your expression. “She’s going out with her boyfriend tonight.”

The room quickly becomes rowdy at the declaration, and you flip Taehyung off when you hear him let out a lighthearted “boo”.

“Oh my god,” Nayeon squeals. “Mingyu’s your boyfriend now?” She asks, going over to the bed you’re sitting on, huddling closer to you ready to hear some gossip.

Doyeon looks surprised as well.

You look at Jungkook to give him a death glare. The fucker just puts his hands up in the air.

“No, god– why would you believe him?” You huff out, rolling your eyes. “Mingyu’s not my boyfriend.” Nayeon’s shoulders deflate. “Yet.” You add, and suddenly, she smiles. You take a glance at Doyeon who looks at Jungkook subtly. Or not so subtly, since you saw her. She didn’t seem to notice.

But Jungkook just wears a smug expression as he approaches you closer.

“See?” He shrugs, plopping himself on the same bed beside you. He looks at everybody. “She barely goes home nowadays.”

“Shut up, Jungkook!” You say, continuously hitting him on the arm as he makes little effort to dodge them.

But as usual, your friends love to bully you and join in the teasing.

“So, you joining or what?” Taehyung says after a while.

You actually had plans with Mingyu tonight. Just the usual dinner at his place and some movie and some fooling around, but you remember Jungkook’s teasing and felt the competitive need for him to not be right.

Besides, you don’t want to be the kind of friend who suddenly ditches their friends just because they’re starting to date – and you know that beneath their good-natured chaff is a genuine feeling of sulk because you’ve been admittedly bailing out on all your hangs lately.

It isn’t even that much because you don’t get to hang outside the hospital often – but you usually do go out on Fridays or Saturdays for some barbecue and go to a KTV bar afterwards. It’s sort of like became a tradition at this point, and it dawns on you that you haven’t been present in them for the past few weeks, which makes you feel bad.

“I’m coming with.”

Jungkook immediately eyes you with an arched brow. “For real?”

You challenge him with a look. “Yes, why?”

“I just remember you mentioning you’re going to Mingyu’s tonight.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “I’m just gonna tell him I’m hanging out with you all. No big deal.” You say, believing what you said. Mingyu’s come accustomed to your group of friends and you’re both adults who live separate lives. As far as you know him, he wouldn’t be making a big deal out of you cancelling on a plan. You think he’ll understand. You hope he does.

“Oh my god, don’t!” Nayeon cuts in. “Don’t worry about us. Go date your hot lawyer boyfriend right now. Are you insane?”

You look at her incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

Doyeon looks at you, nodding her head. “Nayeon’s right. If it’s between a date with my boyfriend or having barbecue with Taehyung and Jungkook, I’d rather be with my boyfriend,” She looks at the two guys. “No offense.”

“As if I don’t want to be with my girlfriend either tonight?” Taehyung says in disbelief.

Doyeon rolls her eyes, but she lets out a low chuckle.

“Wait– why are we fighting right now? If __ wants to cancel her date with Mingyu to come with us for barbecue night, then let her be.” Jungkook says.

In the corner, Taehyung crosses his arms and sends a certain look Jungkook’s way.

“Don’t get too excited, Jungkook.”

Jungkook and you pretty much have the same exact reaction at that.

“What the hell does that mean?”

You feel a slight pinch to your arm.

“Aw!” You slap Jungkook’s bicep for what he did. “What the hell!”

“I said it first.”

“You’re a child.” You roll your eyes.

Taehyung raises his hand. “I think you’re both twelve-year-olds trapped in thirty-year-old surgeons’ bodies.”

“Twelve’s too generous, I think they’re mentally still in first grade.” Doyeon comments.

You don’t get to rebut as you see a glimpse of the resident chief coming your way. It seems that the rest noticed the same thing, and suddenly, you’re all scrambling from your comfortable positions on the ER beds and going your separate ways to the hallways.

You went to your go-to-barbecue restaurant as soon as your shift ended for the day.

The eating becomes a drinking session until everybody tapped out but you and Jungkook. More like, you, because Jungkook wasn’t drinking at all. Doyeon was the first one to call herself an Uber, and then Nayeon and Taehyung had to leave because they have an early shift the next day.

“Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?” You ask Jungkook, downing another shot glass of soju. Your alcohol tolerance is not that high nor is it that low, but after two bottles – you admit you’re starting to feel a little dazed.

“Yeah. Afternoon.” Jungkook responds. When he sees you pouring yourself another glass again, he takes the shot and downs it himself.

“Rude!” You pout at him.

“You’re all red and shit, it’s time to tap out.” Jungkook chuckles when you show him an even deeper frown. “Come on, it’s nearing twelve.”

“I’m so tired.” You whine, not even bothering to take your glass back from him, just letting your shoulder deflate and bowing your head down, your eyes becoming droopier by the second.

After four years of residency, you feel like you have started to operate on autopilot somehow. Wake up at fuck-ass o’clock at dawn to prep for work and finish a varying number of hours of shift for the week. You admittedly barely get time to partake in leisure activities – and it’s not new per say. It’s just like in med school except you’re actually doing the real thing now and instead of grades, real lives are involved and at stake – which puts an even bigger weight on your shoulders.

It’s why you’re thankful to Mingyu; for his presence… for starting to invite you to his place rather than eat out. Don’t get it twisted– you love the bougie dinners and all that, but his penthouse is definitely way more comfortable.

But lately you’ve forgotten about what it is like to hang out with your friends outside of the five-minute breaks in the hospital – and times like these you love letting yourself loose and relax because, hey, you deserve it a little!

“Should I buy you soup to drink in the car?” You can hear Jungkook ask. You don’t answer. “Yeah, I should buy you soup.” He tells himself.

And then you see him going to the counter only to come back after a few minutes with a paperbag in his hand.

“You’re drunk.” He announces.

You snicker. “I’m not.”

“You sure are.” Jungkook shakes his head as he takes you by your waist to help you stand up.

“Just feeling a little dizzy, ‘s all.” You mumble when you fall against his neck upon straightening your legs.

“You’re not just a little dizzy, silly.” Jungkook whispers against your head.

You hum as a response and you can feel the vibration on his chest as he laughs at you. He doesn’t say another word as he guides your steps outside of the restaurant, and before you know it, you’re situated in the passenger seat of his car, with him wearing your seatbelt around you.

“Thanks.” You give him a lopsided smile, shifting around in the space to get more comfortable.

“Welcome, your highness.” You giggle at his response. “Drink up, it’s gonna help you sober up.” He says, handing you the paper bowl of soup he bought from the restaurant a few minutes ago.

You groan, taking it from him and slowly sip from the cup. Jungkook tells you to get his water flask from his backpack on the back seat when you finish your soup.

The soup and water relieve you from the acid reflux you feel in your stomach. Only slightly. Because when you close your eyes and lean back on the seat more comfortably, that’s when you feel something in your throat.

“Jungkook,” You call him.

“Hm?”

“I think I want to puke.”

Jungkook immediately turns to look at you. “For real?”

You bite your bottom lip, nodding your head repeatedly.

“Okay, shit– wait,” Jungkook looks around for something. Probably a plastic bag or whatever. But when he finishes scoping the area around the interior of his car, he seems to find nothing. When he glances at the rearview mirror, he takes a reverse and suddenly, he turns off the ignition of his car. “I’ll park here for a while. Let’s go outside.”

He gets out of the car first before opening your door. You think you’re fine to walk on your own, but you don’t oppose to Jungkook wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you to a…

Playground. The swings, in particular.

“Sit here for a bit.” He instructs, holding the chains steady for you as he waits until you’re sitting on it. He runs towards the car, and you feel way too weird in the throat to ask him why.

You recognize the place that’s not exactly far away from your complex. Maybe a ten-minute drive away.

Jungkook comes back with a crumpled plastic bag. It’s from a familiar provision shop. Probably was in his compartment glove the whole time.

“Here,” he hands you the plastic. “I’ll help you.”

You get it from him and shake your head.

“No, it’s fine.”

“I don’t mind.”

You look at him straight in the eye. “You’re not gonna help me puke, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stares at you for a while and then sighs. He holds the chains of your swing again, standing beside you, putting his hand in his pockets.

“Okay. Puke your heart out.”

You snort. You open the plastic bag and get a feel of that weird invasive push in your throat – until you realize Jungkook is watching you.

Looking up at him, you whine, “Jungkook. Don’t watch.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “I’m not watching.”

“It’s gross.” You say, a bit embarrassed. The whole thing’s embarrassing, to be honest. Jungkook taking care of you because you got stupid drunk. It’s not the first time, and there were definitely a lot more occurrences worse than this – you’re just grateful he hasn’t kicked you out of a curb. Yet.

“Watching somebody puke?” He scoffs as he says your name. “We literally amputated a leg today, and FYI, I’m just scared you’re gonna have some serious complication while puking.”

You frown because– okay. Fair. He has valid points.

“Okay. Well. I’m not gonna die puking. So, turn around or stand back there at the slides far from me.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asks, disbelief painting his voice.

You just nod. Thankfully, he doesn’t say any more and obediently walks about five steps away from you, acquiescing to your request.

It takes you a few minutes to settle yourself before you let out the accumulation of what you’ve digested for the day. Your throat feels crass when you’re done, and your stomach feels empty. When you look ahead, your head still feels like it’s floating. But at least you feel a little better now.

“Drink this,” Jungkook approaches you again and gives you his tumbler once again. You drink from it quickly and quietly. “Feel okay now?”

You hum, nodding and smiling up at him.

“Thanks, Kook.”

He only mirrors your smile and goes to sit on the swing beside you. “You wanna go home now?”

You nibble on your bottom lip, contemplating his question. As you look around, you notice it’s so... solemn. It’s midnight, after all. There’s a sort of eerie calmness with the cricket sounds but the wind is nice and the dark skies project twinkling lights.

“It’s so nice here,” You say instead.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Jungkook chuckles and you follow.

You look at him and sincerely, you ask, “Just for a few minutes, please?”

Jungkook’s quick to say, “Okay.”

His voice is just as gentle as the night breeze.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. You’re sobering up?”

“Eh. I’m getting there.”

“Good.”

You look at him again. “Thank you.”

Jungkook sends you a confused look, but there’s a smile on his face.

“I heard that.”

You chuckle. “And I’m saying it again. Thank you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Alright. You’re welcome. Times two. And you’re not allowed to say it again.”

You both laugh at the exchange. The silence that follows after that is comfortable.

“You know, you still remember Changsub? My first boyfriend?” Jungkook nods at your words. “He asked me to be his girlfriend at a playground. Some old one in our hometown.” You pause for a while, recalling that memory. You laugh because it was just… so long ago. But the pictures are still so vivid in your head.

“Sweet. Too bad he’s an asshole, huh?” Jungkook comments, having known most of your relationship history.

“Yeah,” You shrug, laughing still. “But I, uhm, I remember a day after that– I had, like, this whole scenario in my head. I pictured a few years down the line, he’s on his knees and he’s showing me a ring asking me to be his wife on the very same playground. I thought it would be really sweet if he proposed to me at the same place.”

“Wow.” Jungkook muses, and you chuckle at the reaction.

“I know. It was crazy. I mean, why the hell was I thinking about getting married at that time? I was literally only sixteen and I think I had an AP assignment due the day after that. I was just so in my head.” You say, looking at Jungkook who has a smile of amusement on his face.

And then your laughter fades.

“I was so naive that time. But then I was also naive at twenty. And Jungkook…” You bite your bottom lip, feeling it quiver when you look into his eyes this time. “I’m afraid that I’m still naive at thirty.”

Jungkook calls your name softly, noticing the drop on your tone and the shift from playful to… melancholic.

You close your eyes and draw a deep breath.

“I like Mingyu. I really like him a lot,” And the declaration feels weird verbally announced. You’ve thought it for the past few weeks you’ve been with him – but you’ve both never said it to each other. Not yet. But saying it out loud now – it feels different. It feels real. And you’re so scared. “And we enjoy each other’s company a lot that I feel like he likes me just as much as I like him. You know, we kissed on the first date. I don’t usually kiss on the first date. But I like him so much that I did.”

You look at Jungkook sadly. You gauge the look on his face, but he just sits there with an unreadable expression on his face, though he listens. He always does. You’re not particularly looking for any response, anyway. And he just seems to know so well that right now, you just want to vent.

“It’s so embarrassing to say but I feel like he’s it, Kook.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “And I feel like… like the last time I felt this way about someone was with Eunwoo. And that was four years ago—” You let your head fall slightly. “And I’m so scared.” You don’t intend the crack in your voice when you say it.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls you again, turning his body towards you, reaching out to hold your arm.

“What if I’m wrong? Again?” You tell him.

It takes Jungkook a few seconds to answer.

“I think, __, that you’re a person with a big heart,” You scoff with a smile on your face at that. You get that a lot. But Jungkook insists, “I think you have so much love to give, you know? And I think… Mingyu’s a lucky guy if he gets to receive it.”

That makes your lips curl. Touched.

“You think so?”

Jungkook only nods.

“Why can’t you be nice to me like this all the time?” You crack a joke.

“I’m always nice to you,” Jungkook says in disbelief, obviously finding your words absurd. You only laugh but now Jungkook turns serious, and you fear you might have induced a genuine worry in him. “Am I not always nice to you?”

“You always tease me and shit in front of our friends but so incredibly sweet when we’re all alone.”

Jungkook stutters when he says, “Well… that’s my love language. Teasing you.”

You squint your eyes at him. “Awe, you love me?”

“Okay, fuck off.”

You burst into laughter when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you.

“Hey, swing me.”

You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.

“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.

“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”

“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.

“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.

Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it – a huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.

“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.

You laugh.

“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”

He visibly winces. “Touché.”

Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.

For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.

But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.

“Okay, your turn.”

Jungkook gives you a big grin.

“Nice.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.

“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.

You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”

The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.

You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.

“What the fuck, __?”

You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.

Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.

Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.

“Let’s lie on the ground.”

“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.

You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.

Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”

You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.

Jungkook stops his rambling after that.

“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies.

“The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him.

As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.

You smile, going back to looking at the sky.

“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.

“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.

Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”

You chuckle at the irony.

“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”

You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”

That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.

“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”

“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.

“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”

“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”

You hum, eyes still closed.

“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.

The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.

Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.

“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.

You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.

Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.

“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.

You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.

“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.

Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.

You fall asleep easily mid-drive.

In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.

morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed — your angelic friend, kookie

You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.

“Mingyu,” you call his attention. Mingyu turns to look at you. “This is a really nice place.”

He smiles at your remark. Mingyu moves his hand from your waist to your lower back as he leads you to the entrance door.

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while.”

When you both reach the door, Mingyu introduces himself to the butler. You let the two of them talk for a while, him confirming his reservation, your eyes roaming around the restaurant and taking in the classy interior.

“Please follow me, Mr. Kim and Ms. __,”

The butler gestures inside and you both follow behind him.

It’s another one of your date nights. While it isn’t unusual for you both to get fancy with dinners, you’ve gotten used to the casual dinners you’ve been having at his own place with take-outs and his impressive cooking.

But tonight is a little different. There’s a certain something in the air – especially when Mingyu especially asked you to dress a little more formally. He always has a suit on naturally with his line of work, but tonight he’s wearing a particularly shiny one. The tie is something you’ve never seen before, but maybe you just like to think that. You on the other hand settled for an indigo satin dress that hugs your figure like a glove and shows just enough skin. You’ve always thought you looked good in it.

And you think it’s perfect for when Mingyu asks something that will change the trajectory of your relationship for good.

Today marks the third month since you started seeing each other. You don’t know if he’s aware of it – but it’s been, indeed, whole three months. An monthsary some sort? Granted, there’s no official label to it, at least not yet. But with the fancy set-up and the way he cryptically replied to when you asked him what the whole thing was for tonight, you think he does know. And this is his idea of surprise.

Of course, you don’t let yourself get obsessed with the idea lest you end up with only mere assumptions.

“Thank you.” You both say to the butler as he leads you both to your table. He gives you the menu book and you take your sweet time to choose from the selection, giving the butler your orders after a few minutes.

When he leaves, Mingyu looks at you wearing his usual charming smile.

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of his face.

“This is really fancy,” You tell him, smiling.

“It’s sort of like special place,” Mingyu chuckles. “You know, Mr. Yang– the senior partner over at work– officially announced me as partner here.” He tells you, eyes looking into yours.

You feel your heart do a somersault at his gaze and the possibility of his words.

“Good steak?” You say, trying to act oblivious to the weight of his confession. You also don’t want to assume he’s saying what you think he’s saying…

“Yeah, yeah,” He nods his head, chuckling, then his laughter fades as he begins to look more serious when he continues, “So… it’s been three months since we started seeing each other.”

Your heart skips a bit when you listen to his words. You didn’t think what you were thinking earlier was true, but now that he’s brought it up, you deduce you might not be too far away.

“__,” Mingyu calls. You hum, leaning in closer to let him know you’re listening attentively. He gives you a coy smile, then his hand on the table moves over towards yours. You don’t fight your big smile off when he places it on top of yours, especially when you feel the warmth it radiates and how it looks like it could just easily enclose your own. “You said you wanted to take things slow, and I respect that. I just want you to know that this is – this thing between us – it’s serious for me.”

“I’m serious about us two.” You say immediately.

Mingyu chuckles, simpering when he looks at you again. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“So?” You ask, waiting.

“I want to be your boyfriend. If you let me.” Mingyu says, clear and firm. “It’s just… I’m happy with our dates. And I just love hanging out with you. But I think I’ll be even happier if we go out together as boyfriend and girlfriend – officially – from now on.”

You nibble on your bottom lip; couldn’t contain the big smile you’ve been fighting against since earlier.

You’ve been expecting the question ever since you got here, but you’re quite surprised for your assumptions to be right.

“Okay.” You say coolly.

Mingyu furrows his brow. “Okay– as in…?”

“Okay, as in, I wanna be your girlfriend.”

His lips part. “Are you… for real?” You nod your head repeatedly, stifling a giggle as Mingyu begins to smile so widely. “Fuck.”

“Hey,” you lightheartedly scold.

Mingyu nods his head, still smiling. “I’m sorry, I’m just—” he cuts himself off with a chuckle. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle.

“I wish I can kiss you right now.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as you look around. There are too many people. But the hopeless romantic in you tells you it’s okay.

“Why won’t you?” You challenge him, and Mingyu arches a brow at that.

He looks like he’s giving in, but then he shakes his head. With a smile that borders on flirtatious, he leans closer to you and whispers, “Later.”

Mingyu’s sweet promise at the restaurant ends up with you straddling his lap on the driver’s seat, your dress riding over your thighs and the thin straps falling off your shoulder.

"Fuck," Mingyu breathes in your ear, hands full of your ass while you continue to grind against the bulging crotch of his slacks.

You're not any better, panting on the crook of his neck as he encourages you to move on top of him. You feel the wet kisses he bestows across the column of your neck, moaning at the delicious friction from one particular thrust of his hips.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, in your defense. Your dinner ended on a really good note and Mingyu was just supposed to lean in for one sweet kiss once you were situated in his car.

But then you swiped your tongue over his lips and Mingyu threw away his gentlemanly act for the night, granting you back with a kiss that had more fervor in it. Forceful in a way that says he wants you.

And the feeling’s more than mutual.

His coat’s long gone now, stashed away on his back seat, and you’ve already undone the top three buttons of his dress shirt. Mingyu squeezes your boob over the thin material of your dress, prompting you to let out a low moan.

“Why—” Mingyu cuts himself off to kiss your lips one more time.

“Why don’t we go to your place?”

You don’t register his words the first time, too drunk from the sensation of his touch over your body.

“Yeah?” You mindlessly say, eyes shut as Mingyu peppers kisses to your jaw down to your neck once again.

“You’ve never invited me to your place.”

At that, your eyes open and you still on top of him.

“What?”

Mingyu looks up, and you’re about to be distracted by his messy hair and his swollen lips but then he says, “We’ve never gone to your place before.”

“Oh.”

He’s quick to gauge your reaction. Cupping your jaw, he plants a kiss to the side of your lips. “I’m not insisting if you don’t want to.”

“N-no, I want to,” is your immediate response. “It’s just…” you trail off, thinking about how to approach the subject.

Mingyu hums, waiting for your next words, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. It helps you regulate your nervousness at the sudden mention of your place.

“I have a roommate.”

There you let it out.

Somehow in the past three months you’ve been dating, you never mentioned that you’re living with Jungkook. The subject just never came up – until now, that is – and you didn’t really feel the need to tell him when he never asked in the first place.

But deep inside, you’re a bit hesitant to tell him about it. Sure, Jungkook’s his friend, and Mingyu did say they were close and knew each other well, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him that you’re residing with his close friend – but that’s exactly what makes the whole thing weird. It’s one thing as a woman to live with a man in one place, and it’s another if that man is a friend of your – well, now boyfriend.

And you know to yourself that you and Jungkook are purely platonic so there should be absolutely nothing to be worried about. It’s not even that you don’t trust Mingyu to understand – it’s just that it’s not as easy to tell him straight up. Not when you’re just starting a relationship right now with an official label to it – not when you’re finally in a serious relationship after four whole years of looking and waiting.

You don’t want to ruin it. Not right now.

“Oh, okay.” Mingyu nods at your confession, understanding. “Is it why…?”

You nod your head, already getting what he means. Licking your lips, you look anywhere but his eyes. Instead, you focus your gaze on the exposed upper part of his chest and let your fingers toy with his collar. Mingyu lets you.

“But… roommate’s away for the night.” You tell him. And it’s true. Jungkook told you he has a date tonight and that usually means he won’t be going home.

And you want Mingyu so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

That puts a smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“She is, huh?”

Your heart skips a bit, and you give him a smile you hope he doesn’t recognize as fake.

Somehow, you don’t bother to correct him even though Jungkook – your very roommate – is most definitely not a she.

“And here goes my bedroom,” You say as you open your door, letting Mingyu in. You’re not really worried about its state because thank god you cleaned up before leaving for your date tonight. Jungkook’s the cleaner one though, and that’s an advantage because he’s kind of obsessed with cleaning the whole apartment and not just his room when he has the time. It’s exactly why Mingyu pays you a compliment on the neatness of the place.

“Cute,” he muses, looking at the Sanrio plushies on your nightstand.

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling a little shy. Mingyu’s place is the definition of bachelor – his bedroom’s literally out of an Architectural Digest page. And while you’re proud of your Sanrio plushie collection – they’re your childhood gifts and you’ve collected them until college and they were expensive as hell – you can’t help but think that maybe you’re coming off as childish right now. You wish you could’ve hidden them or something…

You hope Mingyu doesn’t think too much about it.

“I like the room,” Mingyu says, looking at you who’s sitting on the edge of your bed. “It feels very… you.”

“Really?” You chuckle. “I mean, I’d hope so. I’ve been here for two years.”

Mingyu chuckles, following you to the bed. You feel the mattress sinking in when he sits beside you.

“I wanted to give you something at the restaurant earlier, but I kinda chickened out,” He says.

You arch your brow. “What is it?”

You watch as Mingyu takes something out of his pocket, your heart skipping a few beats when it turns out to be a jewelry box. Mingyu looks at you and smiles, hands slowly opening the velvet box, and your lips part when it reveals a dainty silver necklace with a small drop diamond pendant.

“Wow.” You utter, eyes blinking repeatedly, not knowing how to react.

“Well…?” Mingyu says, gauging your reaction.

“You’re giving that to me?” You ask in pure disbelief. He only nods. “That’s really– it’s really pretty.”

“I thought about you when I picked it up. It made sense.” He says smoothly, and you giggle at his words.

God, you like him so much.

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” You chuckle, cupping your face with your hands as if it could make the blood go away from your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“I’d love to wear it on you.” Mingyu smiles.

“Of course.”

He takes out the necklace from the box and asks you to turn around for a bit. You do so, helping him put your hair over one shoulder. You can feel him scooting closer to your back, his breathing on your nape, and the way he slowly caresses your shoulder first before his arms go around your neck to lock the necklace around your nape.

The cold of the material hits your skin, just on time when you feel Mingyu planting a kiss on your clavicle.

“It’s really pretty.” You say in awe, touching the pendant.

“Hm,” Mingyu continues to pepper your skin with small kisses. “You’re beautiful.” You turn to look at him, smiling. He mirrors that and cups your jaw to give you a peck on the lips. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You giggle when he squeezes your waist.

“Thank you.” you say in between your laughter. You hold his arms and stand up from the bed to place yourself in front of him. Mingyu looks up at you with one brow raised, but he’s quick to manspread when you begin to straddle his lap. As you situate yourself on top of him, you wrap your arms around his neck and let him run his hands across your body when you do so. “I really appreciate the necklace.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu whispers against your lips.

You hum, trailing your fingers down his collar then start to unbutton his shirt. When you get the few undone, you look Mingyu into his eyes and he meets your lips that crash into his in a few seconds.

You suppose it’s not exactly surprising that the kiss turns heated way too quickly. After all, you were both humping each other in his car earlier.

Sighing into the kiss, you tug at his hair, and it prompts his hands to squeeze your ass a little too tight. Mingyu breaks the kiss and there’s a barely noticeable string of saliva when your lips move away from each other. He trails kisses from your jaw down to the base of your neck, taking the straps of your dress down, hands beginning to rub your bare arms.

“So beautiful,” Mingyu sighs, lips travelling back to your own. He prods his tongue in your mouth that you gladly open for him. You let out a moan from the sensation of his tongue against yours, clutching his shoulders so hard you're sure you're gonna imprint your nails on his skin despite the shirt he still has on.

"Mingyu," you whisper, mouth ajar and gaping uselessly against his hair as his mouth leaves yours eventually to go down to your cleavage. His wandering fingers go around your back to fumble with the ribbons that are holding the dress, and you’re quick to help him tug it down completely until your chest is out for his full viewing.

Mingyu hisses at the lack of bra – except the nipple tapes – when the top of the dress comes off. He stops and stares, then takes a long and deep breath, as if the sight of your breasts intoxicated him; sighing as if he's long wished to see you like this.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so hot." He cups the swell of your chest in his two large palms, fondling them as you continue rolling your pelvis against his straining crotch area. He grazes the silicon material covering your nipples, looks up at you as if to ask.

“Y-yeah,” you sigh out, knowing what he meant with the look.

Taking them off gently, Mingyu earns a moan from you, the sound getting a bit louder when he puts one of the two peaks in his mouth, and the sight is nothing short of erotic.

It elicits a sharp breath from you, hands flying to his soft and brunette locks. You almost feel bad thinking that you've been grabbing at them since earlier.

But you have more important things to mind than attending to Mingyu’s silky and healthy hair.

You seek for his lips which he gives you almost automatically when he notices you asking for it, the two of you meeting in a hungry kiss, your nails on one hand clawing at his back as you cup his jaw in the other. But his hands don't leave your breasts, palming them roughly but just right; squeezing so hard all the while tugging at your nipples.

For a moment, you take a halt, catching your breath and look at him with your hooded eyes. You kiss the corner of his mouth. "Take your shirt off."

He does as you say so, and you help him unbutton the entirety of his dress shirt to get the thing off him faster. Mingyu lets go of your boobs but quickly holds them as soon as his shirt is off. This time he flicks at both your nipples, and you can’t help but bite at his neck. The pleasure’s too much and you can feel yourself dripping down your thong, the sticky feeling of it making you squirm on his lap.

As if Mingyu has read your mind, he grips your waist and sets you down on the bed. He hovers over you, fingers idly exploring under the skirt of your dress until he finds the band of your panties.

You groan when you feel the cold brush of air on your bare thighs, suddenly feeling impatient. "Mingyu,"

“You want me to eat you out?” He whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You almost cry at his question.

“Yes,”

Mingyu drags his fingers on your clothed core, groaning when he feels how soiled your thong is. "You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. Look at you," he sighs, hands leaving your pussy as he leans back and palms the strain of his pants. Your toes curl at the sight, uneven breaths puffing from your lips. "Look so sweet under me."

And you're also a mess under him, writhing and completely getting lightheaded from his actions.

You let out a mewl when he pushes up the skirt of your dress to your hips, dragging down your underwear to your thighs.

Lifting your butt off the mattress, you help him get it off of you completely and you don't miss the way the flimsy thong sticks to your pussy before he takes it off you entirely. Mingyu seems to notice as well, judging from the way he hissed under his breath.

Your pussy is slick and sloppy, wet and dripping for him.

"So fucking pretty for me, god, I can’t believe I get to have you like this," he whispers against your throbbing heat, leaving a small kiss on your clit.

You arch your back when he uses his finger to run it through your slit, adding another one to spread your walls. Mingyu groans at the juices that stick to his digits.

As he adjusts himself on the mattress, hands gripping the back of your knees, you push them up until you're bended in almost half. You hold up your own legs, getting whiplashed when he licks a long, firm and deep stripe over you, making your eyes roll from the back of your head, breath hitching as you keep yourself steady in your own hold.

"Oh my god – Mingyu!–"

He starts slow, kissing around your labia, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit. Your head falls from the mountain of pillows under you, suddenly feeling frustrated.

"S-stop teasing me. Please, Mingyu,"

Ending your misery, he spreads your thighs, puckers his lips and dusts a few pecks over your bare heat and dives in for it seconds later with too much fervor. He savors every drop that oozes out from your hole, licking and lapping until you feel his tongue inside you. Mingyu could be spelling out his name for all it matters, but you really couldn't give a fuck.

"Oh, fuuuuck–" you groan, trying so hard to keep yourself steady. "S-so good,"

He hums in your pussy, and you don't help the way one of your legs drop to the mattress, the other one hooking on his shoulder. It makes you grab for his hair, pushing his head down and thrashing underneath his face.

It felt like minutes passed and you're almost crying by how good it all feels, his tongue doing wonders in the walls of your heat.

Soon, tears start to well in your eyes because of the pleasure, drawn out moans and heavy breaths filling the room. You couldn’t care less about the volume. Right now, you just want to cum.

"Your fingers, Mingyu,” You sigh out, and before you could even prepare yourself, he's inserting his middle finger inside you, pushing it in until it's knuckle-deep. "Oh god!"

“Yeah?”

He starts at an average pace until he adds another finger in your entrance, this time picking up his speed – and it makes you drip everywhere.

When he settles on scissoring his fingers inside you, moving at an abnormal pace that have you gasping under him, your body shake and your toes curl on the sheets. Mingyu swoops down to kiss your pussy again, two digits being repeatedly swallowed by your warm hole, slurping every juice that comes out of it. As he feels you tremble, the precedence of you nearing your climax, he takes his thumb to your clit.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," your pant, "I'm coming–fuck–“

Mingyu removes his fingers from you, exchanging them with his tongue instead and you cry out while he continues to rub your clit vigorously.

And when you arch your back higher this time, you spasm around his fingers, moaning uncontrollably.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it,” Mingyu whispers, pecking your heat a few more times to calm you down from your high. After a few moments, he removes your thigh from his shoulder, quickly coming up to kiss you on the mouth.

You taste yourself on his tongue but you couldn’t pay much attention to it when you feel his dick against your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let exhaustion wash over you.

Mingyu lets you stay still, and when you open your eyes again, you see him staring at you with a warm smile dancing across his lips. Your heart skips a beat, could no longer feel it but hear it instead, and you bite your lip, pushing his chest away slightly in an attempt to get on top of him.

“Let me suck your cock.” You say, but Mingyu shakes his head, firm on his place: on top of you.

“Let’s do that next time. Tonight, I have to fuck you well into the next day.”

And he does.

You didn't cum again – you usually don't from penetrative sex – and your first orgasm exhausted you way too much to let yourself go the second time. Mingyu didn't mind, telling you it was fine when you gave him an apology about it.

You wake up panicking at the thought that you’re going to be late for work.

Scrambling to sit on your bed, you take your alarm clock in your hands, letting out a dramatic “Thank god” when you see it read as 5:06am. Your alarm goes off at 5:30 as your weekday shift starts at seven.

Which means it’s still early. And you’re not going to be late for work like you feared.

You remember last night’s events though, and your eyes quickly go over to the other side of your bed.

Mingyu’s not in it – but it feels warm. An indication of the fact that he stayed the night over after what you did. You also deduced that he must’ve only gotten out a few minutes before you woke up.

Thinking he’s outside your room, you begin to stand up – groaning the way your thighs ache a bit as you do so. You’re only dressed in your panties and camisole, and you thought about going out in them – but then it made you feel a little weird. Okay, sure, Mingyu’s already seen everything there is to see – you had sex last night – but being naked in a non-sexual fashion in front of someone is kind of a little different, so you opt on putting on a pair of short shorts.

As you head towards your door, fingers ready to twist the knob, you’re surprised to see Mingyu meeting you halfway.

“Hey—”

“Why the hell is Jungkook here?”

Your smile drops and you look at him in confusion.

Mingyu wears an expression you’ve never seen him in before. He’s pissed. Eyebrows furrowed, gaze not soft like it usually is when it comes to you, and above all… his tone borders on accusatory.

“Why is he in the living room saying he’s your roommate?” Mingyu asks once again when you don’t say anything.

“I—” but you’re rendered speechless, frozen in your position. Your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Your brain is a jumble of thoughts and all you can think about is Mingyu seemingly getting mad at you.

“__?” A voice that’s absolutely familiar speaks up. You hear Jungkook’s steps getting closer to your door when he finally shows himself to you. “What’s Mingyu doing here? And why doesn’t he know we live together?”

Mingyu forces himself inside your bedroom and bumps into you a bit as he faces you with a venomous tone. “I’m going.” He declares, grabbing his shirt from your desk chair and putting on his belt.

“Mingyu, it’s not—”

“Save it, __.” He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence, hastily buttoning up his dress shirt.

Jungkook frowns and butts in. “Mingyu, let her talk. I told you earlier, we’re roommates—”

“Jeon,” You turn to look at him, almost spitting out his name. “Not now.”

You see Jungkook visibly recoiling at that. But you’re too concerned over Mingyu already on his way out the door, ready to leave.

“Mingyu, just hear me out.” You say, looking at him sincerely.

“I don’t wanna hear it. Not right now.” Mingyu tells you with a cold look paired with a cold tone. You deflate, taken aback at how nothing on his face screams like he cares about you. He glances at his watch. “I have to go to work.”

He heads towards your apartment door and you follow him there, hoping to change his mind about hearing you out.

“I know what you’re thinking right now, and it’s not that, Gyu.” You tell him once again, following him outside your unit.

Mingyu stands there for a while. Then, he sighs, putting his thumb over his temple. He heaves out a breath, looking into your eyes as he says, “I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? Let’s just… let things cool down for a bit.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you mean?”

“I’m flying to Chicago this afternoon but I’ll be back in the evening. I’ll call you later after work.” He says, and now his face doesn’t look so devoid of emotions like how it was earlier.

But you worry about his words.

“You’re flying to another state.” You reiterate, just so you know you heard him right.

“It’s just for a few hours, sweetheart,” The petname soothes you a little but then he continues to add, “Look, I’m not sure of how I feel about… Jungkook being your roommate. You didn’t tell me about it– just imagine my surprise when I saw him after I went out of your room. It’s not a nice feeling to get lied to,” He says, and you feel an arrow shooting straight to your heart at that. You blink your eyes, feeling like there are tears forming on the sides. Mingyu seems to notice that as he steps closer to you and rubs your arm. “We’ll talk later, __. Just not now. Give me time to process this.”

You give him a weak smile.

Mingyu cups your cheek, and you lean towards his touch. Rubbing a thumb over your skin, he leans down to kiss your lips.

When he breaks away after a quick moment, he tells you, “Later, hm? I promise.” You nod. Mingyu gives you a smile. “And thank you for last night.”

That erases your worry. Not all, but some of it.

“Thank you too.”

“Alright, I’m going, okay?” Mingyu lets go of your face and you look at him as he turns around after you bid your goodbye.

You watch his retreating back in the hallway from your position, nibbling on your bottom lip trying to process the turn of events – and it’s only five fucking am still.

When you enter your apartment again, you see Jungkook sitting on the couch of your living room. And he looks just as pissed when your gaze falls to him.

“What the hell was that?” He welcomes you with.

“What the hell is this?” You point back at him. “You told me you weren’t coming home.”

“Yeah, but I have work – which we both go to at the same time, by the way. Apparently, you’re bringing boys now to this goddamn place.”

You do a double take at his tone.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” You say, voicing starting to pick up volume. You feel irritation bubbling up inside you as Jungkook stands up from the couch and turns his back to you, ignoring your question as he heads to the direction of the kitchen.

“I said we’re both gonna be late for work.”

You follow his steps. “No, you said I’m “bringing boys here”, what do you mean by that?” You grab his arm and that’s effective enough to make him turn around and look at you. But he avoids eye contact. “Don’t turn your back to me when I’m talking to you, Jungkook.”

“I’m so sorry then, I’ll make sure to look into your eyes when I say every word that comes out of my mouth from now on.” He sarcastically says, and your annoyance grows.

“Watch your goddamn tone.”

Jungkook scoffs. “You’re the one to talk about watching tones when you literally just told me to shut up in front of your boyfriend?”

Your frown instantly. So you were right to think that moved him a little. But you tell him your confusion, “Where the hell did you get that? I didn’t tell you to shut up.”

“Yeah, you just told me “not now” like I’m a child trying to insert himself in mommy and daddy’s little argument. You might as well just have told me to shut the fuck up.”

The way he phrased your argument with Mingyu “little” rubs you off the wrong way.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you sarcastically say. “Did getting told to shut up by a woman in front of another man hurt your big macho man ego?”

“You’re making it about another thing.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, opening the refrigerator and taking out a loaf of bread.

“You think I forgot about your little “bringing boys here” comment?” You point out, but Jungkook decides now is the time to be an asshole and starts acting nonchalant instead, putting jam all over his bread. But you see the tick in his jaw, the tongue prodding against his mouth. He’s just as pissed as you are right now.

“And you sure as hell did. I don’t know what to tell you.”

You seethe. “Fuck you. I don’t bring “boys” here. Mingyu’s my boyfriend,” You say, and to be petty, you add, “As if you’ve never ever brought girls here before?”

Jungkook looks at you instantly. “Don’t you dare pin that on me. That was in the very first week that we lived together, mind you. But you told me how uncomfortable it made you feel and I thought about boundaries since then and never did it again. Why do you think I come over at their place instead of just hanging out here, huh, __? Even when we didn’t verbally agree on not having sex around this place, I thought it would be a goddamn principle. Heck,” He looks somewhere and scoffs, “Mingyu didn’t even know I’m your roommate. What did you tell him?”

You open your mouth to make a rebuttal, but nothing comes.

Because you realize in the middle of his outburst that… he’s right.

The first time that you saw a woman coming out of his own room and Jungkook noticing your discomfort about it, he just stopped doing his… thing in the apartment. It wasn’t a verbal agreement, as per his words, but he’s right. It should have been a principle.

In the past two years you lived with each other – that was the only time he ever did it. It became an unspoken rule: don’t bring your hook-ups here. But you never really had to worry about that unspoken rule because you didn’t do one-night-stands often, and when you did hook up with people over the past two years, it was rare so it was easy to do it in their place.

It has become a norm for you that you don’t see other people here anymore except for your friends when they invite themselves over – but you aren’t aware that Jungkook’s apparently making an active choice to specifically not hook up in here this whole time.

Coupled with the fact that you didn’t tell Mingyu about him being your roommate and him being caught up with your argument earlier – you feel a sense of guilt. A huge one at that.

But the stubborn part in you thinks that Mingyu’s different. He’s not a mere hook-up. He’s your boyfriend now! Couldn’t that be an exemption to the rule that’s unspoken in the first place?

“I…” you trail off, scolding yourself internally for not forming a coherent thought faster than you’d like.

When you don’t follow it up with anything, Jungkook takes his plate with him, turning on his heels away from you.

“See you at work.” He says, but it’s sarcastic and clipped.

Jungkook leaves one piece of bread for you though – just like he always does. And you take that as a sign that he’s not all that mad at you.

… Maybe?

You stand there in the middle of your kitchen island like some stupid stoned individual, going over the things that happened for the past – what – twenty minutes? You don’t even fucking know. Your wall clock in the living room had run out of battery, and your brain is too occupied with messy thoughts scattered all around you can feel a headache coming.

One thing’s for sure, though: you’re in the wrong. With Mingyu and with Jungkook. And you need to make it right somehow.

PART TWO | PART THREE

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts angst #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #svt smut #svt x reader #bts x reader #fic: tlp #awrkive

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pitlanepeach · 2 months ago

Text

Radio Silence | Chapter Five

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, detailed meltdown on-page, angst.

Notes — Another double update, go me! PSA: Our Amelia has a bit of a difficult time in this one. Take care of yourselves x

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2019

WhatsApp Groupchat — The 2019 F1 Grid

Charles L. I have found an iPad in Ferrari hospitality. It is engraved with the initials A.B. Any ideas?

Lewis H. Does it have a bunny sticker on it?

Charles L. Yes!

Lewis H. That’s Amelia’s, then.

Lando N. lol I’ll come get it just gimme 10 mins im in a debrief rn

Charles L. Sure no problem Amelia is Zak Brown’s daughter, yes?

George R. Yeah mate The smart one.

Sebastian V. Haha. She is the one Binotto wants? Brown hair, pretty smile?

Lando N. Bro.

Lewis H. @Sebastian — Mattia has tried to get her to Ferrari?

Sebastian V. Yes. He’s offered her some very lucrative opportunities. She has so far turned all of them down.

Carlos S. She’s loyal to McLaren. Leave her to us, yes?

Valtteri B. But if she ever decided to go elsewhere, Mercedes would make sense.

Lewis H. Yeah obviously 👍🏻

Lando N. ????????????

Lance S. If she was offered a million dollars to fix the Racing Point car, do you think she’d take it? Not a hypothetical. My dad wants to know.

Max V. Money won’t work. You forget she’s already the child of a millionaire.

Lance S. Damn it.

Kimi R. Is this the child always in Norris’ garage?

Lando N. Don’t call her a child we are literally the same age

Kimi R. That does not change the fact

Daniel R. But seriously, why was she even in Ferrari hospitality in the first place?

Max V. Ice cream.

Lando N. Ice cream

Lewis H. Ice cream.

Sebastian V. I can confirm she was here for ice cream. Pistachio, specifically.

Charles L. I cannot believe I’ve still never met her. Is she really so smart?

Lando N. Yes.

Pierre G. Absolutely.

Max V. Smarter than you are capable of comprehending, Charles.

Charles L. Then I suppose I will just have to charm her into accepting Mattia’s offer 😌

Lando N. I will put in the wall, Leclerc.

Charles L. Oh! You are together with her, Lando? I didn’t know!

Lando N. No, we’re not together.

Charles L. Then I am confused.

Max V. Her father has practically forbade them from dating. Total nonsense if you ask me.

Carlos S. They are dating.

Daniel R. @Carlos 😳😳😳

Lando N. @Carlos NO WE ARE NOT STOP SAYING THAT

Sergio P. Mucho defensive…

Carlos S. He wrote his race number on her shoes.

Lando N. So what? That means nothing.

Daniel R. Oh brother….

Max V. Yeah, sorry, I can’t even back you on that one Lando. That’s a lot.

Kimi R. My wife had my number stitched into her shoes. We got married six months later.

George R. So Kimi is saying you’re basically engaged, bro.

Lewis H. Let’s stop talking about this. Before Lando has a full on meltdown.

Charles L. Too late. He has arrived for the iPad with a terrible attitude.

Lando N. I hate all of you.

—

Subject: Workplace Conduct Reminder – Inclusivity & Respect at McLaren

From: HR Department To: All McLaren Racing Staff Date: [Sunday, post-race, 10:42 PM]

Dear Team,

As the season continues and tensions rise both on and off the track, we’d like to take a moment to remind everyone of McLaren’s core values — collaboration, respect, and inclusion.

We are incredibly proud of the diversity across our team, from engineering to strategy, operations to communications. Every person is here because they bring something exceptional to the table — and that includes our colleagues who may experience or perceive the world differently than others.

We ask that all team members remain mindful of the following:

Neurodiversity is not a barrier — it is an asset. Please be conscious of language and behaviour that may unintentionally alienate or diminish the contributions of individuals who may process things differently. This includes members of our extended team, trusted advisors, and collaborators who work closely with us — regardless of job title or official role.

“Vibes” are not a metric — Judging someone’s energy, personality, or communication style is not only unprofessional but also unfair. Everyone representing or contributing to McLaren, formally or informally, deserves respect.

Support one another — Whether someone wears McLaren orange full-time or contributes behind the scenes, everyone here plays a part in our collective success.

Rumours are not culture — Let’s keep paddock gossip out of professional spaces. If you have concerns, we encourage you to speak directly to your manager or HR.

This message is not in response to any one incident but rather a gentle pit stop reminder: our team functions best when everyone feels seen, heard, and safe.

If you have any questions or want to speak to someone in confidence, please feel free to reach out to HR directly. We’re here to help.

Kind regards, The McLaren Racing HR Team [[email protected]]

—

iMessage — 11:40pm

Lando Yo, did you see the email?

Carlos Sí.

Lando Kinda hardcore. Glad Zak did something

Carlos Somebody said something to Amelia?

Lando Yeah someone in PR idk I feel like I should know more about her stuff I feel stupid tho. Like I don’t know anything. Just that she’s Amelia yano

Carlos I did some reading. Come to my hotel room. We eat pizza. I will teach you what I know and we can google the rest.

Lando Legend. Thanks, mate.

—

The course he took her to wasn’t flashy — quiet, tucked away, the kind of place her dad’s friends would never be caught dead in. That was intentional. They weren’t exactly hiding their… friendship, but they weren’t trying to advertise it either.

Amelia stared down at the club he’d handed her like it was a piece of martian debris.

“This is very stupid,” she muttered. “Pointless, really.”

“It is,” Lando agreed, his lips twitching. “Just hit the ball.”

She squinted at the tiny white ball he’d settled on the grass in front of her. “Is it supposed to just… go?”

“Yes.”

“Like in a line?” she clarified, glancing at him.

He shrugged. “In theory.”

She swung. Missed.

Lando clapped anyway. “Incredible form. I’ve never seen such calculated failure.”

“It was bad,” she said seriously. “I didn’t hit the ball. I made a hole in the grass, Lando.” She stared down at the muddy crater with quiet horror.

He just gave her an encouraging nod, gesturing for her to try again.

She sighed, feeling the beginning of a stress rash creep along her neck. But she tried again. And that time, she hit it — not far, just a lazy roll across the grass — but enough to surprise herself. Lando caught the way her eyes widened, saw the exact moment the thrill overtook her frustration.

He didn’t say anything. Just handed her another ball.

They kept going like that for a while — her slowly getting the hang of it, him slipping in dumb jokes and patient explanations between swings. She never asked for help, but he noticed how closely she watched every move he made. Her eyes, always sharp, always calculating.

Eventually, she dropped to the grass with a dramatic sigh and said, “Why do people think this is relaxing? I’m hot and my legs are tired.”

Lando chuckled and sat beside her, kicking his legs out long. “I think it’s relaxing. Your dad likes it.”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad. It makes me stressed.”

“Yeah?” He asked.

She pulled at a blade of grass, rolled it between her fingers. “He told me again that it would be better if I stayed away from you. He said it would make things easier. For me. For you. For the team.” She continued.

Lando let the silence sit for a moment before asking, his voice quiet and slightly unsure. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I want him to not worry. I want him to trust me. I want…” She hesitated, frowning at the grass. “I want to feel like I can make my own choices without feeling like I might wreck everything.”

“You’re not wrecking anything,” Lando said. He tapped the ground next to her leg and she glanced at him, blinking. “I like hanging out with you.” He told her.

She didn’t say anything, just flicked the blade of grass from her fingers and looked at the trees that surrounded the course. “I don’t know what I feel yet,” she said finally. “Toward you, I mean. But I know that I have liked this. Today. Not the golf. Being with you.”

Lando grinned — couldn’t help himself. Probably looked like a right knob, but he didn’t care. “Want to keep playing?” He asked.

She gave him a look. “I might get fined for ruining so much of their grass.”

He handed her another ball. Shrugged. Smirked. “It’s fine. I make a lot of money.”

She rolled her eyes.

—

Amelia shut her bedroom door with more force than she meant to and leaned against it, breath caught high in her chest like she’d just ran a marathon. Her bag hit the floor. Her hands were shaking.

She didn’t know why. Except; she did.

Her body was full of something too big. Too much. A knot of heat and noise and confusion that had no exit. It felt like all the inside parts of her were pressing outward, like she might split open if she didn't stay still.

She pressed her palms hard into her eyes like she could push it all back in. But it was already too late. The thoughts were everywhere; spilled oil, tangled cords, static static static. Her brain wouldn’t quiet down. Wouldn’t give her space to think.

She’d had a good day. That was the worst part.

Lando had been good.

He never looked at her like she was difficult. He didn’t act like she was hard work. When she didn’t catch onto something the first time, he just explained again. No sighing. No staring. No pretending. Things weren’t easy with him, not exactly, but they were lighter. Easier.

She sat hard on her bed and the tears came without warning; fast, silent, relentless.

She didn’t cry often. Usually she just shut down. Usually the wall slammed down before anything could spill out. But this time everything had slipped past it, and now she was sobbing, but it didn’t even feel like crying. It felt like her whole nervous system had shattered.

A knock at the door.

“Amelia?” her mum’s voice, soft. “We just got back. Can I come in?”

She didn’t answer. Just turned her face away and wiped at it, even though the tears kept falling. Her skin was already stinging. Her chest was tight.

The door creaked open.

“I’m not upset,” Amelia said fast, panicked. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know why I feel like this. No. I do. I do. I just don’t know what to do with it. And I don’t want to talk about it—except I do. I do, I just—” She broke off, swallowing hard.

Her mum sat on the edge of the bed, calm. Grounding.

“I went out with Lando today,” Amelia said, too fast. “To play golf. His idea. He said we should do something fun. So I did. And it was fun. I didn’t freak out or embarrass myself. I didn’t ruin it. I didn’t ruin it.”

She dug her nails into her palms. Her face was blotchy and sore.

“He makes me feel normal,” she whispered. “Not small. Not like a problem. Just… me. And now I don’t know what I feel. I think I want him to be my friend. Or maybe something else. I don’t know. And I don’t want to know, because it doesn’t matter.”

“Why doesn’t it matter?” Her mum asked calmly.

Amelia blinked at her, and then, like someone flicked a switch, the anger surged. Hot and fast, like a fever.

“Because of Dad,” she spat. “Because he thinks that it would be a distraction. Because he thinks I’ll screw everything up just by being around. Like I’m some walking disease that’s gonna infect Lando’s entire career. I know that’s what he’s worried about the most.”

She was breathing too fast. Her limbs were twitching now, hands clenching and unclenching.

“I don’t have friends,” she said. “You know that. I’ve never had friends. Not ones that stay. I get too intense. Too blunt. Too weird. Too tired. And people always stop trying.”Her voice cracked. Her throat burned. “But Lando didn’t stop. He hasn’t stopped. And it’s still not enough. I still don’t get to have this one good thing without it turning into a problem.”

The sobs came back, messy and loud this time. She stood up too fast, swaying. Her hands started moving uncontrollably at her sides; jerky, uncoordinated. A warning sign. The meltdown was building and she couldn’t stop it, could never stop it.

Her mum stood too, moving slow, blocking her path without touching her.

“Okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to think about any of that right now.” Her mom’s attempts to comfort her were useless against the onslaught of emotions she was feeling.

“I’m so angry,” Amelia choked out. “I finally feel calm, I finally feel seen, and it’s not allowed. I’m not allowed to want something or feel something if it’s inconvenient for anyone else!”

She was trembling now. Her skin felt wrong. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. She wanted to rip it off. She wanted to scream and break things. Instead, she clenched her fists and shook and shook and shook.

“Do you want me to get your things?” her mum asked, voice calm, anchoring.

Amelia nodded hard. “Yes. My weighted blanket. And the golf ball. It’s in my bag. Lando bought it for me and I want to hold it. It’s yellow.”

“I’ll get everything,” her mum said gently.

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” Amelia shouted, the volume jarring even to herself. “I’m trying so hard. All the time. I’m always trying.”

“I know,” her mum said. “And I’m proud of you. Every day.”

Amelia slid to the floor. Her body folded in on itself, hands clawed into her sleeves, breathing uneven.

The noise in her head kept rising.

Usually, this was when she wanted her dad. Wanted him to sit next to her. Watch a race in silence. Be there without asking anything of her.

But not now.

Now, all she wanted was for him to stay far, far away.

—

It was almost midnight.

Her room was quiet now; weighted blanket pulled up to her chest, lights off, only the soft blue glow of her phone screen lighting her face. The golf ball sat in her right hand, warm from where she’d been holding it for hours. She kept rolling it between her fingers, feeling the small ridges, the smoothness. Grounding.

She had stopped shaking, but her body was aching like one big bruised muscle.

She stared at the message thread with Lando, her thumb hovering, retreating, hovering again.

She didn’t know what to say.

Everything in her head still felt too big. Too messy. But the quiet between them was worse. Not bad, not uncomfortable, just... unfamiliar. She wanted to talk to him.

Finally, she started typing.

—

iMessage — 10:11pm

Amelia I didn’t enjoy golf very much. But I liked being with you. Thank you for inviting me.

Lando Norris I’m glad you came anyway We had fun though, right? I had fun :)

Amelia Yes, I had fun. It was confusing. But in a good way. I liked learning something new.

Lando Norris I liked today too You were kind of great We should do more new things together. Just us

Amelia Maybe. I feel strange tonight. My head is a bit loud.

Lando Norris That’s alright

Amelia Do you think if I asked you questions about your Formula Three races… you would answer them?

Lando Norris Absolutely I’d love that Haven’t talked about F3 in ages Might be nice to remember

Amelia Okay. What did it feel like the first time you won?

Lando Norris Like my hands knew before I did Like the whole world stopped for one second so I could catch up It felt… right. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be ya know

Amelia Oh

Lando Norris: You okay?

Amelia: I forgot all the questions I had for you. Sorry.

Lando Norris That’s okay. Don’t worry. Your brain’s probably sleepy. It’s late Are you tired?

Amelia Yes. I got upset earlier for no reason and it’s made me tired I’ll go to sleep now. Thank you for texting me back. Goodnight.

Lando Norris You don’t have to thank me for that I like talking to you Feel better soon, yeah? Goodnight x

—

The house was still, the kind of stillness that only came after a storm.

Tracy sat on the couch in the dark, legs curled beneath her, a half-cold mug of tea resting in her hands. She hadn’t moved since she’d come downstairs after leaving Amelia. The couch blanket was draped over her shoulders, but she still shivered slightly, not from the cold, but from the heavy weight of witnessing her daughter’s pain.

Zak entered quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. He didn’t speak at first. Just stood in the doorway, tie loose, shoulders slumped, guilt etched deep into the lines around his eyes. After a long moment, he crossed the room and sat down beside her.

Tracy didn’t look at him. Just murmured, “She’s asleep now. I checked a minute ago.”

Zak nodded slowly. “She didn’t ask for me.”

“She didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want help. Just needed space.” Tracy’s voice cracked, but she kept it steady. “She was barely holding on, Zak. I haven’t seen her like that in a long time.”

“I didn’t mean to make it worse,” he said too quickly. “I just… I thought I was protecting her.”

“I know you did,” Tracy replied gently.

Zak stared at the floor. “I didn’t think it would hurt her like this. I thought—” He faltered. “I thought keeping her away from Lando would keep things simple. Keep her safe. From getting hurt. Or confused. Or from people talking. From getting her hopes up.”

“You didn’t trust her,” Tracy said. Not accusing, just honest.

Zak exhaled hard. “No. I didn’t trust him.”

Tracy finally turned to look at him. “But he’s been good to her. You’ve seen that, surely.”

“I have,” Zak admitted, tersely.

“But it wasn’t on your terms,” Tracy said. “So you didn’t like it.”

Zak didn’t argue.

“She’s not a problem to solve, Zak. She’s our daughter. And she’s doing something incredibly brave. She’s opening up. She’s connecting. That’s huge for her.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “God, I know. I just…” He broke off, ran a hand through his hair. “Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been someone safer?”

“Because love isn’t safe,” Tracy said. “And friendship isn’t simple. And if you’re lucky enough to find someone who makes you feel okay in your skin, even just for a little while, that’s not a risk for someone like her. That’s a lifeline.”

Zak leaned back, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked hollowed out. “I feel like I’ve completely blown it.”

“You haven’t,” Tracy said gently. “But you will if you keep pushing like this. If you keep trying to prevent something that is starting to seem pretty much inevitable.”

Zak was quiet.

“She loves you,” Tracy added. “But she can’t keep fighting you on this. Not when she’s also fighting herself. That kind of pressure… it’ll break her.”

That landed like a stone. He blinked against the sting in his eyes and nodded, slow and tired. “Okay,” he whispered. “Yeah. Okay. Fine.”

Tracy leaned into him and kissed the rough edge of his jaw. “You’re a good father, Zak. She knows that. She’ll forgive you.”

Zak didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the dark hallway.

“She didn’t ask for me,” he said again, softer this time. Raw. Frayed.

Tracy sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know, honey.”

—

The flat was quiet, except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional thump of bass through the wall from the upstairs neighbours. Lando sat cross-legged on the sofa, eyes unfocused on the muted Rally Car stream playing on the TV. Max was in the kitchen, one sock on, microwaving some disastrous smelling leftover curry.

“You ever liked someone,” Lando said suddenly, not looking up, “so much that even the idea of them ruining your life doesn’t sound that bad?”

Max made a noise that landed somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Christ, mate. What brought that on?”

Lando shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve just been thinking.”

“About Amelia?” Max asked, already knowing. He padded over and dropped into the armchair opposite, bowl in his lap.

Lando exhaled slowly. “I really fucking like her. It doesn’t make sense. She’s, I mean— Jesus, I don’t know. Feels like I can breathe right around her, you know?”

Max didn’t answer right away. Just stirred the curry and watched the screen for a second. Then, gently: “Yeah. I get that. But... Come on, mate. You sure this isn’t a bit too much, too fast?”

Lando looked over. Frowned. “What do you mean?”

Max shifted, trying to find words. “It’s not just about liking someone. It’s about who she is. Like, she’s your boss’s daughter. That’s... not insignificant here.”

“I know that.” Lando bit back.

“Okay. But do you really know what it means? If something goes wrong, if it ends, and ends messy, it’s not like you can just walk away. There’s no possibility of a clean break with her.”

Lando was quiet, but his jaw tightened.

“I’m not trying to scare you off,” Max added quickly. “I just... I know how much you’ve worked for this. Since you were, what, six? Your whole life’s been about driving. Being the best. And now you’re closer than ever.”

“I’m not giving up racing,” Lando snapped, defensive before Max even finished.

“I didn’t say you were,” Max snapped right back at him. “I just don’t want you to stop being Lando Norris: F1 driver and become Lando Norris: the guy who fucked around with his boss’ daughter, you know?”

Lando stared down at his hands. He felt like a piece of shit as he said, “Zak’s basically said the same thing. So has my dad.”

Max nodded. “‘Cause we’re all thinking the same thing, mate.”

Lando rubbed his hands over his face and pulled his hood up. “Maybe you’re right,” he mumbled. “Maybe this isn’t... good timing.”

Max didn’t say anything. He just went back to eating, quiet again.

And Lando hated that suddenly it felt like all of their reasons made sense.

—

The air was different now. Cooler. Thinner. The sun still came through her window in the morning, but it didn’t cling to the walls the same way. The trees had started to shift, just barely, into that pre-autumn colour. And Amelia felt like she was holding her breath all the time. For something. For nothing.

She hadn’t spoken to Lando for days. Not since she'd sent him a photo of the coffee shop in town that had spelled her name wrong again, and all she got back was a laughing emoji. No reply. No question. Just that.

It felt like a door closing very slowly.

She was sitting in the bay window of her bedroom, blanket around her shoulders, golf ball in one hand and her phone in the other. It was the fourth time she'd opened their chat and closed it again. The most recent messages sat there like ghosts.

—

iMessage — 9:04am

Amelia Hope you’re not too tired from training.

—

Read. Two days ago. No response.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure what to write that wouldn’t sound… needy. Or hurt. Or desperate. God, she hated the idea of being too much. It made her skin itch. She didn’t want to become exactly what people were always assuming that she’d be.

She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, her thoughts, her everything. But it hurt in a way she didn’t understand; this slow, quiet loss. It hurt in a way she didn’t have a name for. It felt a lot like emptiness.

“Don’t spiral,” she whispered to herself, rocking gently, rhythmically. “Don’t spiral. Don’t spiral.”

But it felt like she already was.

—

Both McLaren cars DNF’d in Belgium; the first race back after the Summer break.

She’d written it down two hours before lights out — in the margin of an old notebook, under a page of technical notes she hadn’t meant to be looking at anymore. The exact reason. The probable lap. A strange little instinct that curled in her gut and told her today’s not going to go the way they want it to.

She closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer, and told herself it didn’t matter.

Nobody would ever know. Nobody would ever ask. Because she wasn’t in the garage. Wasn’t in the paddock. Wasn’t even watching from the hospitality suite like she always did, like clockwork.

She was in Woking. In her bedroom. As far from Lando’s garage, from the paddock, as she could possibly be.

And on the TV, when the Sky Sports commentator mentioned her absence like it was some small anomaly (“No sign of Amelia Brown in Norris’ McLaren garage today. Odd, considering she rarely misses a weekend”) she didn’t feel flattered or seen or missed.

She felt sick.

Like the air got thinner the second they said her name.

So she turned it off.

Just like that.

The screen went dark. The sound cut out. And for the first time in ten years, she didn’t watch the entire race.

Not because she didn’t want to.

But because it hurt too much.

NEXT CHAPTER

737 notes · View notes

fandomlit · 1 month ago

Text

gif cred belongs to @my-fandom-imagine

imagine catching the eyes of the marauders

“your friends seem like fun, remus,” you smiled at the brunette boy, looking over from where you two stood talking to see sirius and james entertaining a group of students in the courtyard with a series of flashy spells and tricks.

“they’re not,” he sighed sarcastically but cracked a smile when you laughed. “i’ll see you later, y/n. thanks for the notes.”

“anytime!” you chuckled as you headed to where your friends awaited you by the lake.

by the time remus reached his own people, the small crowd had dispersed and james was flipping his wand in his hand. “what business d’you have with y/n l/n, moony?”

“why do you ask?” remus coughed, ducking his head as he took his usual spot against the beech tree trunk.

sirius slid next to him, laying out with his head propped in his hand and staring at remus. “because she’s the hottest girl in the castle.” remus rolled his eyes. “oh, come on, you know it! she’s bloody stunning! think you can set me up?”

remus finally turned his gaze to sirius’s hopeful one. “no.”

the boy’s jaw dropped. “what! why?”

“has she got a boyfriend?” james inquired as he popped a chocolate frog into his mouth, sitting on remus’s other side. remus shrugged. “then what’s the problem?”

remus sighed, feeling as though his friends weren’t going to give up easily. he turned a serious gaze to sirius. “she doesn’t deserve to be just another one of your flings.”

as sirius stuttered to find a response, james nodded, “cool. can you send her my way, then?”

remus turned his glare to him. “same goes for you. y/n is much more than just her looks—she deserves someone who recognizes that.” he took out a piece of parchment and his quill. “you two are only looking for a laugh and a shag.”

james held out his hands as sirius continued to sputter for a response. “what if that wasn’t the goal? what if i see that y/n has a right sense of humor and confidence?”

“or that she’s smart beyond any of our class!” sirius finally managed to get out. “and bloody passionate about the things she likes..”

remus spared a glance up after scratching down the start to his potions essay. the two boys were still staring at him expectantly. “i’m sorry, but if you really want a chance with y/n, talk to her yourself.”

james huffed, falling back against the cool spring grass. “you just want her for yourself, moons. you can’t fool me.” remus said nothing, but the two watched a blush creeped up the neck he was determinedly keeping hunched.

“right,” sirius sighed, seeming to resign something internally. “good luck getting her before me, boys.”

“good luck getting her alone at all,” remus snorted. the two relaxed boys snapped their gazes back. “i know that you two struggle to be attentive, so i’m sure you haven’t noticed, but you’re not the only ones pining after y/n.”

sirius propped himself onto his elbows and looked around until he caught sight of you h/c hair shining in the spring sun across the lake. you were laughing, and if he strained he could almost hear that heavenly sound drifting toward him, but unfortunately it was caused by a group of slytherins that had walked up to her and her friends.

“is that snivellus?” james sneered with disgust. “i don’t know this was the new inter-house competition!”

“aw, regulus?” sirius seethed. “my own brother?!”

354 notes · View notes

ruesol · 4 months ago

Text

ex-convict!Sukuna drops whatever he’s doing (killing a man) and runs to you after you text him for some much needed comfort.

(part of my ex-convict!Sukuna x academically burnt out reader series.)

cw: fem/afab reader, explicit sexual content, stiff sex talk, slight dom behavior on Sukuna’s part, and of course, attempted murder

——

Sukuna’s knuckles ache because of the force he just put on them.

The man in front of Sukuna looks haggard, blood dripping out his mouth and pooling on the cool, wet tar. Sukuna’s jeep is still parked out back, and in it was the money he had brought for the exchange of a particular package.

“Fucking hell,” the man groaned as he used his elbows to to lift his torso off the ground. “Still didn’t think you had it in you, Ryomen.”

Pathetic. Even with an almost broken nose and bruised eye, his opponent found some repulsive thrill in mocking Sukuna.

“You said you’d give me what I needed if I had the money. Why’d you try to pick a fight instead?” Sukuna walked over to the man, gun in hand as he clicked it. “I thought I told you I didn’t want any funny business. Got locked up once already and I’m not afraid to do it again.”

The man’s elbows trembled as he tried his best to summon up whatever pride he had left after getting beaten up by his former accomplice. “Shoot me. You know shit won’t end well for you even when you’re locked up. I’ve got people everywhere,” he chuckled, spraying blood on Sukuna’s boots that were now face to face with him.

Sukuna kneels down on one knee and cocks the gun in the middle of the man’s forehead. “You have some nerve to be talking up a storm right now.”

“Just get it over with, Ryomen,” the man barked.

Sukuna pushes the barrel onto the man’s forehead, making him hiss when the gunpowder makes contact with his skin. “Fine,”

His finger presses against the trigger and—

Vibrations. His phone vibrates in the loose pocket of his jacket. His victim looks confused. “Chickening out alread—“

Sukuna hits the man’s temple with the gun. That’ll knock him out for a while. He fishes his phone out and his heart lurches when he sees that it’s a couple texts from you.

come over. Right now

Please

His heart and mind conflict again. On one hand, he has to finish his pathetic job and on the other hand, you’re waiting for him at your apartment.

All soft, and probably teary like you usually are.

And forget the word ‘please,’ you never texted more than two words to him. Ever. It was always either “your place” or “not today.”

Sukuna stares at the passed out man on the road and debates on whether he should throw him into the woods or just leave him be.

In the end, he decided that he’d just leave the man be. They were in the middle of nowhere anyway and cops didn’t patrol the area as often. And even if they do find him, it’s not like they’ll get involved anyway—the giant tattoo on his arm was enough to prove that his condition was a product of gang violence.

Well, that, and you were a little impatient (as much as you never admitted to it.)

His friend called him smart—using a young and insecure college girl for ‘pussy’ (as he put it.)

But deep down inside, he knew it was more than that. His vehement heart gushed when he’d see you cling to him with tears in your eyes, body soft and warm for the taking and heart broken beyond compare.

The fact that you needed him to stabilize your mind spoke volumes to him. It reminds him that you wanted him in your life as much as he did you.

Though his desperation wasn’t as veiled as yours. You were quick to push him away after you’d get what you needed.

His truck juxtaposed with the other much smaller cars at the guest lot at your apartment complex; just like in reality, where he starkly stood out wherever he went. Shoulders too broad, height too towering, and face too rugged with scars and tattoos. The universe’s spotlight shines on him every time he makes a move.

Sukuna takes a gulp of water from the crinkly plastic bottle in his cup holder and swishes it around in his mouth so he could clean up the taste of blood. He walks over to a nearby bush and spits it out. Viscous carmine smears the myrtle leaves, weighing them down as each drop of blood drips into sod.

After getting into your apartment building’s elevator and pressing the button for your floor, he wipes his mouth one last time while staring at his blurred reflection on the dirty mirror wall to get rid of the wetness left behind.

He lives life in segments. There was before you—jail, during you—the arrangement you both have now, and maybe, if he fucks up or goes back to jail—after you.

He didn’t want to imagine what that would be like. In his mind, your existence was hauntingly infinite, reaching into his brain’s every crevice and immersing it in your scent.

Maybe it’s because he’s had to rely on his senses to navigate difficult situations for a long time, but he feels like he can smell traces of you as soon as he reaches your door. His cock aches against his jeans when he’s reminded that your shampoo still lingers on his pillow.

And how he touches himself to it at night.

He doesn’t knock and only sends you a text that he’s standing right outside.

You open the door a moment later, with your hair a mess and your T-shirt a size too big for you.

The picture of Sailor Moon on it rids him of vestigial jealousy because now he knows that it doesn’t belong to another man.

Your eyes are glassy and your face is swollen. If you didn’t shut him out as often he would’ve asked you what happened. But all he can reckon is that something or someone must’ve hurt you badly enough to call him to your apartment for the first time.

You wear your heart on your sleeve but you never speak out the words to Sukuna. But that’s enough for him. A temporary salve for the perpetual ache in the core of his chest.

He digs his blunt fingers into his palm to rid himself of the itch to comfort you by holding your waist and stroking your hair.

Your gaze falls onto his mouth, making your shoulders tense up and your lips press into a line. Silent judgement. “Is that blood?”

“Uhh..” He wipes whatever remnants of dried blood he had on his mouth and dusts his hands on his thighs. “Do you care?”

“Not really.”

“Good.” He doesn’t want your thoughts to linger on its cause so he grabs the back of your neck and slots his mouth against yours.

His teeth ache at your sweetness even when he can taste the strong mint left behind by your toothpaste. ‘Cute,’ he thinks. You were preparing for him.

His tongue prods open your lips, running it along your tongue and the hollow of your mouth. Saliva drips down both your chins as he pushes you into your apartment and slams the door shut with a kick from his steel-toed boot.

His sloppy kisses swallow your groan as you fist his faded denim jacket and press your chest against his, only the thin barrier of your T-shirt standing between your bare breasts and his warm body.

He’s quick to slam your back to a wall, and when he finally pulls away to catch his breath, you see the ravenous look in his eyes, black void replacing red irises.

His hand trails down to the hem of your T-shirt, and rucks it up to your collar.

And for a moment, he simply stares at your semi-bare body. Tits flushed and nipples hardening with every passing second, panties dampened and inviting, and your scent—

So saccharine and musky.

“Up,” he orders. You gulp and diligently raise your hands, and he pulls your T-shirt off in one swift movement, discarding it in some random corner of your studio apartment.

He doesn’t even hear the ruffle of the fabric landing because the roaring of blood in his ears renders him selectively deaf—the only sounds he can hear are the slick movements of your tongue nervously stroking your bottom lip and your heavy breathing. His dick is painfully hard, and the sight of you only makes his patience edge closer to splintering.

His heady gaze moves from your breasts to your eyes and you immediately look away. Almost like you’re afraid he’ll see past the lust and know why you called him out of nowhere. Especially since your meetups were usually calculated.

A day after a bad exam.

Right after a study session with your judgemental friends.

Or right before an important quiz.

But this was out of the ordinary. He’d mull over it later. His dick was starting to take over his brain.

His large, calloused hand grasped your neck and lightly applied pressure to the column of your throat as he kissed you once again. This time, dragging his tongue along the outline of your bottom lip before pulling away.

He drags a single hand down your neck, to your sternum and at last, rests it on top of your clothed mons. The hand that was choking you groped your breast, thumb brushing against your nipple as he buries his nose in your neck and takes a deep whiff.

Your underwear isn’t that special—it’s just a random white pair that had been sitting in your unkempt closet, but to him, it felt like an invitation to stain it with his spend. He made a mental note to secretly snag it on his way out. The smell of your shampoo on his pillow was dwindling into nothingness anyway.

Sukuna’s fingers inched down to the damp gusset, pressing on your covered clit, making you gasp and grind slowly against his thick fingers. “Let’s go to my bed,” you huffed out with a frown.

He moved away from your neck, resting his nose against yours. “Not yet. I wanna do something first.” The metallic notes in his breath make you scrunch your nose.

Syzygy. He blocks out the dim cloudy afternoon glow in your room with the vastness of his shoulders. A behemoth in presence and practice.

Sukuna kisses your lips and then begins to trail his mouth down your body, branding plum-colored stains onto your neck and breasts. His tongue finds your nipple and his incisors lightly nip it before he gives it a hard suck, making your hands immediately move from his shoulders into his hair.

He grunts when you tug his hair to get his attention. “What are you doing? Let’s just fuck and get it over with.”

Foreplay wasn’t a common practice between you two. And even if one of you did initiate it, it wasn’t anything more than a light make out session.

Your usual hookups would start with a few tongue kisses, followed by fingering so you could take his girthy cock in your sore pussy, and then a quick “I’ll text you later” from you before both of you went your own ways.

You never gave him head and neither did he you. You weren’t there to enjoy, just get your fill and go. The painful stretch of his cock opening up your pussy was enough to make you temporarily forget about your perpetual worries.

You mewl when he slaps your clothed pussy. “I’ll give you what you want if you let me take what I need.”

It’s a demand. More predatory than imperative.

He hisses when you lightly tug his hair before answering, “fine.”

Without breaking eye contact, he gets down on his knees and tightly grasps your thigh in his large mit, fingers digging into the muscle and fat. He slots his mouth against the soft flesh of your inner thigh and you bite your lip.

The tip of his tongue darts out to lick all the way to the crux of your pelvis and rests it against your clothed cunt before situating your thigh on his shoulder, sodden pussy basically pushed to his mouth because of the force.

His eyes roll to the back of his head when the scent of your arousal engulfs him. He sucks the fabric of your panties, priming his tongue with your juices as his fingers undulate your ass.

“At least take them off first—fuck,” you groaned out. He doesn’t listen, though. Instead, he only sucks harder, tongue directly prodding at where your swollen clit is.

Sukuna was never a vocal man but the sounds escaping him sounded like they came from the depths of his carnal desire for your pussy. His groans reverberate through you as your head leans back against the wall, trying to find some stability as he takes you to the edge and brings you back over and and over again.

After what seems like forever (to you), Sukuna slots two fingers down the front of your panties and yanks the flimsy fabric down. And without much warning, he splits your pussy lips with thick fingers and licks up a stripe from your slick hole to your glistening clit. His tongue circled around your hole, licking away whatever arousal dripped out.

His fingers soon replaced his tongue, prepping you to take his cock soon. You could never get used to the feeling of his hefty middle and ring fingers inside your cunt. They were always too rough and long, reaching into the parts of your body that your smaller and daintier fingers couldn’t.

His tongue laps at your sensitive nub, kissing it at unexpected intervals before harshly sucking it again like he did with your nipple. His fingers curl when he finds the spot that makes you sing, and your teeth let go of your lips as your body tenses when the wave of an onset orgasm washes over you.

The knot in your core, snaps and you cry out your release as you roughly pull at his disheveled pink locks.

Your limbs shiver, making Sukuna only hold you tighter so you wouldn’t collapse. “I’ve come, that’s enough,” you rasp out through deep breaths.

But his obstinate self did not listen to you. At your cries, he pulls out his fingers, but continues licking and making out with your pussy, eating you out more for his pleasure than yours.

“Please, I’m really sensitive. Just—just fuck me already,” you groan.

He knows you want him gone. He knows that he’s made you feel good enough to the point where now you need him to come.

Something grotesque in him grins at the thought of ruining any man that comes after him in your life.

Not that it’ll ever happen, though. He’ll make sure of it no matter what.

You didn’t know it, but you were always going to be his girl. Even before you two had met. Life had been pushing you around for this very moment—where he’d take you and keep you for himself forever.

Everything about the situation is so perfect. You’re bare, limp and needy, and he’s clothed, has all the power and is the only man you’ll ever need.

When he stands up, you realize how much he holds over you with his figure. Strength in one of his hands alone renders you weak against him. With his eyes trained on yours, he drags his hands from your ass to the back of your thighs and hoists you up, resting your spine against the cold cemented wall once again.

He unzips his pants and pulls down his boxers, precome already staining them. He’s painfully hard and hisses when he pushes his stiff cock against your hole, notching his leaking head at your entrance.

Alarmed, you gaze up at him with furrowed brows and swollen lips. “What about the bed?”

“Too impatient. I’ll fuck you there later.”

Later.

Later never happened with you two. It was always strictly whatever you wanted. You dictated how many times you wanted to go. You always had all the control, and now, he was slowly pulling it out of your timid grasp.

Before you can ask him about his implication, he pushes himself into your quim completely, hissing at the tight muscle contracting around his length. You yowl as your hands wrap around his shoulders and the back of your head tips against the wall.

“Shit,” he mumbles into your neck.

“Just move and finish up,” you whisper, still breathing hard.

“No,” he’s quick to interject.

“No?” The stretch of your hole around his cock makes each second feel like agony. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Look me in the eye when I fuck you,” he dictates against your lips.

“Will you go after that?”

“Do you want my cock or not?”

When he pulls away, he waits for your eyes to meet his.

And when they do, he slowly pushes himself into you, your chest coming close enough for your breasts to press flat against his pecs.

You try not to think about why he suggested so in the first place.

It’s almost as if he feels rejuvenated after looking into your eyes, even when your breasts deliciously bounce as his hips pick up speed as his balls slap against your skin. Your walls clench tighter and tighter as he bullies his cock into you over and over again, precome priming you for his final spend.

Fat droplets of tears roll down your cheeks and he kisses them away before they can reach your jaw and roll down your neck. He licks a lone tear and savors the saltiness. You’re everywhere: on his mouth, skin, cock, and mind.

Infinite; red hot iron branding the imprint of your face in his brain so whenever he closes his eyes, you’re all he can see.

His thrusts get sloppier as he finishes, excess come dripping down your thighs, and his own. He groans into your mouth, kissing your tongue to sooth his semi-soft and sensitive cock as he pulls out of you.

The feeling of cool air against your thighs reminds you of the rivulet of combined juices dripping down your legs.

Before you can wobble your way to your bed to final rest your legs, Sukuna picks you up in one swift motion, uncaring that the fluid between your legs is dripping on his arm, and walks over to your bed and lays you down.

—

Turns out later, meant going three rounds in two hours.

After Sukuna had eaten you out and fucked you against the wall, he was insatiable. Only wanting more, going as far as to making you warm his cock in your pussy till he got hard again.

Spent and sweaty, you now slept soundly in his arms. Uncaring that he had pushed you to break every rule you had set up. That too, in your own home.

He clicked his teeth as he remembered your surprised face when he casually said that he wanted to fuck some more. As usual, you were wary of him at first, but when his fingers stroked your clit the way you liked, you were pliant and malleable for his bidding.

He glances around around, finally getting a good look at your abode.

It’s not what he imagined it to be. It’s a mess: takeout containers stuffed to the brim in tightly tied plastic bags, cans of energy drinks huddled around your computer on the desk in the far corner of the room. Polaroids of your friends lay haphazardly on your coffee table, seemingly untouched with the film of dust gathering on them.

For a college student, the decoration is bleak and the lack of a living room makes him feel like there’s no space for him in your apartment. Much like your heart.

But that’s okay, he will take whatever he can get. Even if he can’t quell the curiosity has about your life away from him.

So he decides to put an end to it (only for this instance.) With only his boxers on, he walks to your computer, which, surprisingly, does not have a password.

He browses around, only finding assignments for classes that seem too complicated for him to understand. Maybe even for you too, with the way you’ve been sleeping with him more often than before.

And then he finds it—the reason why you called him to your sanctuary, the one place he was never allowed to step foot in.

An internship rejection email.

——

If you’re seeing this, thank you for reading!!

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byfulcrums · 1 year ago

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been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

#i'll make more of these later #i'm just very bored and i love rtte #race to the edge #rtte #how to train your dragon #httyd #httyd rtte #toothless #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #astrid hofferson #snotlout jorgenson #fishlegs ingerman #dagur the deranged #tuffnut thorston #ruffnut thorston #heather the unhinged #avis' post

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sluttsumu · 2 years ago

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DOUBLE TROUBLE

.ೃ࿐ feat. atsumu + osamu miya

in which: the twins have a little bet, and you’re their next target. who can make you cum the most on halloween night without anyone knowing, keep quiet virgin or you’ll get caught.

warning: 18+, college!au, fratboy!inarizaki, oblivious!reader, non+ dubcon/peer pressure, threesome, corruptive thoughts, misogyny (?), manipulation, drugs (molly), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected, petname: angel, oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), virginity loss, exhibitionism + voyeurism, implied orgy (with suna), sunaosa TEASE, they’re sleazy hoes. wc: 2k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this is fic was supposed to kickstart my kinktober series. i hope you love this as much as i do because i had the best time writing it! in my mind it’s still october 😭 divider: @cafekitsune

two devils, one angel, and fate. being a virgin sacrifice wasn’t necessarily on your halloween bucket list for this year.

— ♡︎ —

“can’t think of anyone to bring ‘samu ?” atsumu piqued, osamu is supposed to be the smart one.

the infamous twins had been thinking for some time on who to invite to their annual halloween party.

there were plenty of guests, but they needed someone special for the night.

atsumu’s fucked half of the bimbos from his fan club, meanwhile osamu was never satisfied with any of his groupies.

“well,” he starts. “i have an idea.” the light bulb in his head flickered before finally going off when he thought of the perfect girl. the dainty little college freshman whom he sees walking around campus all dolled up.

“who’s that girl that we always see with sunarin?” he ponders, in attempt to remember your name. atsumu’s eyes lit up when he realized. he knew exactly who his brother was talking about.

osamu really was a genius.

“y/n..” his tone was unsure, but curious nonetheless. osamu shot a finger gun “bingo.” indicating that his atsumu was right on the money. they paused, staring at one another as if they were reading each others minds. twin telepathy surely was a blessing. if they were both thinking correctly it seems like they’ve got a target.

*incoming facetime from; suna rintaro*

“yes suna?” you answer holding the phone above your face. “what’re you doing tomorrow?” the abrupt question never threw you off anymore, it was common for suna taking you on all kinda of spontaneous adventures on and off campus.

“ ‘m not doing anything, gonna watch horror movies and eat candy.” suna eyed you feigning disgust, what lame plans. “absolutely not..” he scoffs, “the twins invited you to their party tomorrow and you’re going.” the miya twins were mutual friends and have been known to throw some awesome ragers from time to time, how could you decline such an offer?

“i don’t have a costume???” honestly you were trying to find any excuse possible to lessen your chances of coming home wasted on halloween night. but suna had a solution to everything, even this. “wear white, i’ll sort out the rest.” he hung up after the condescending message, leaving you to piece together his surprise.

white, the colour of purity and innocence. nothing is innocent about a college party, especially because,

halloween was the one night a year a girl could dress like a total slut, and no one could say anything about it.

a firm knock was set on your dorm room door. “let’s go” his eyes fixated as you opened the door. suna mildly regrets not taking up the twins’ offer to join them on their escapade tonight, especially with the way that dress hugs your body. he quickly releases himself from the dirty thoughts.

“okay, what’s my costume? you said wear white.” suna’s hand rises from his side revealing a halo. makes sense why he told you to wear white now. it wasn’t until you took in his costume that really made you understand his choice.

he’s dressed in a red button up, except the buttons weren’t being used at all. the devil horns stuck in his hair confirmed the unoriginal costume idea. a few days back he mentioned matching costumes with the rest of his fraternity, and if you had to see the rest of them like this, than you were sure that attending this party was worth it.

the house was loud, as much as it was crowded, suna’s hand around your wrist is the only thing preventing you from getting caught in the ocean of people.

“sunarin! we’re over here.” pi kappa alpha (ΠΚΑ) was one of seven frats at your university, and was definitely the hottest. pretty, rich boys with the world at their disposal. everyone knew this but that never stopped girls from clinging onto them, after all osamu’s arms and atsumu’s abs— focus!

“ah, you made it.” osamu exclaimed opening his arms for a particularly tight hug. you hugged all of them, each cologne scent different from the last. “mind if we steal rin for a minute? won’t be long, promise.” atsumu’s tone of voice couldn’t have been more condescending, talking to you so sweet and saccharin. you nodded, shooting the quintet a small smile, before going to find a drink.

“an angel, cute.” atsumu watched your back was you walked away into a crowd of people. all that clouded his thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to you throughout the night. “get yer head intha game. what are the rules?” osamu chuckled, it was no doubt that he was having the same thoughts as his brother. that’s for sure.

“ ‘ts 10:30, whoever can make her cum the most before midnight first wins. unless you fuck her that is.. she’s a virgin so if you manage to to take her virginity you automatically win. get caught and you have to restart.” the night is young and the rules were set, but there was one question unanswered, whats the prize for a game such as this?

money of course. sex and money have been interchangeable for as long as mankind can remember, no difference here. a thousand dollars put up by each member, totalling to five thousand. winner takes all, loser gets nothing. may the best twin win.

atsumu wasted no time following you to the kitchen hearing the laughs from his friends behind. unfortunate for him bokuto caught your attention a little too quickly. he watched the two of you laugh and introduce yourselves to one another. it wouldn’t go on for much longer, not if atsumu could help it.

“bo-kun! do me a favor would’ya?” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “get some more ice for the cooler, ‘ts intha basement.”

in boy world, this was a territorial interaction meaning; get the fuck out of here.

meanwhile in girl world, you didn’t think anything of it.

bokuto cheerfully agreed uttering “nice meeting you!” before sliding past the crowd of people to go fetch that ice.

“cute costume miya.” you look up to see him above your shoulder. he unhooks his arm from your side, leaning up against the counter. “not too bad yourself. you look,” he pauses for a mere few seconds. thoughts of you and how innocent you look plagued his mind, costume doesn’t help either. something in him was excited to taint that, you’d look so much prettier with your makeup smudged and begging him to make you cum, he thought.

“pretty,” he smiled, eyes shifting around your lips, and neck then back to your eyes. “you look really fucking pretty.”

“nights still young, you like games?” you tilted your head at the question. a suspicious question but how could anyone say no to him. “dependsss..” you drag out the word, tone laced with hesitation. this was all one big game, that you unfortunately didn’t know you were apart of, throwing another in the mix couldn’t hurt.

“how do ya feel about suck and blow?”

—♡︎—

suna forcefully offered up kita’s amex for the game, safe to say that he’s not happy about it.

the game rules were simple; suck and blow, on a card that is. pass the card mouth to mouth without dropping it. drop it and make out with the next person in front of everyone and spend an additional 10 minutes in an enclosed space. sounds easy right? it wasn’t a pi kappa alpha party without this tradition, they have a separate room dedicated for games such as these.

you watched intensely as the card made its rounds over and over you successfully received and passed it on. you were also standing between atsumu and bokuto, yikes! the card was making its way back around and like before it was just a matter of sucking and blowing, until you were locking lips with one of the hottest guys on campus. atsumu ‘dropped the card’ by accident, catalyzing the makeout sesh between the two of you.

it’s hot, it’s sloppy, it’s fucking miya atsumu.

you feel his smile on your lips as he slips his tongue in between yours, aiming for your bottom lip. the whooping, and whistling among the group was enough to encourage the egotism within you both to put on a nice show for everyone. your nails intertwining in his undercut, while his arms hug your waist.

“okay okay,” kita pushes, removing the two of you off of each other. “10 minutes, you know the drill.”

the frat brothers exchange a glance, one of many kita has shared with his little since atsumu started college.

the amount of girls that have survived that room, godspeed.

hearing the door close behind you was almost frightening, even after the spectacle you put on for everyone just now. it wasn’t until you took a few steps in you noticed this is a bedroom, not your average stuffy coat closet.

“suna teach you to kiss like that or what?” he teases, watching you stare at him in disbelief. “can’t believe he hasn’t fucked you yet.”

guess i’ll be the first, he thought.

suna? fucking you? confusion was an understatement really. unbeknownst to you they all thought you were sunas secret fuck buddy till he told them you were untouched.

atsumu almost forgot, and the realization ran through his blood with pure mischief. he was ready to get his hands on you and play with his toy of the night.

“let’s have some fun, yea?” he quips, walking towards you. “fun like what?” unintentionally you take a step back, the two of you flowing in a seamless b-line towards the bed as he goes forward and you go back.

“you’re a big girl right? in college now. ya know what big girls do?” his tone was informative signalling that there’s more to his mini monologue. “big college girls…kiss, and suck, and fuck boys.”

the smooth of your calves hit the sheets.

“a-atsumu i’m—” you’re a stuttering mess, and he finds it adorable.

“you’re what?” he mocks, lifting his voice up an octave to replicate you. it was only a matter of seconds before you were pushed onto the bed with his body caging yours beneath him.

it was all happening so fast, it’s not that you didn’t want to but this has never happened before. being stuck in a room with a guy especially an experienced one was never on you to-do list for today.

atsumu’s done this to many girls. he’s used to fucking bitches every week and you were no different. he never looses and he’s damn sure nothing will change that tonight.

“i’ve never done this before…” shame drowns your conscience as you confess what you thought was a secret. little did you know, he knew.

“s’okay,” his lips pecked against your jaw lightly, he could feel how tense you were but curious as well. “just wanna make you feel good, hmm?” you could feel atsumu’s hand creeping between your thighs though his eyes never leaving yours. this look on your face, the look of a virgin, never gets old for him.

the inquisitive look of “maybe it’s not so bad” staring back at him as he pulls your panties to the side running his fingers along your wet folds. you didn’t protest, or squirm, or defy, you just laid there beady eyes staring, legs spread for him awaiting his touch.

simultaneously, his fingers slide into you with ease while sharing a kiss to keep you quiet, earning a soft moan onto his lips. your body can’t help but concentrate at the foreign feeling of someone else other than yourself fingering you. “ahhh—! s-slow down ‘tsumu, too much!”

“no can do angel, got a lot ridin’ on ya.” completely dismissing your feelings, he continues to pump his fingers into your leaking cunt. “hurts..” you whine. “atsumu it hurts!”

“don’t lie ta me pretty, i can feel you clenching ‘round me.” your face flushed at his words, fluttering around his fingers. besides the slight discomfort it felt so fucking good, you really couldn’t get enough of it.

the humiliation you felt hearing the lewd squelching of his digits fingerfucking you was apparent. you watched in awe as he sped up, arm now jackhammering in and out of you at an ruthless pace. “fuckfuckfuck!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears.

atsumu traps your lips in a messy kiss, tasting a mixture alcohol on each others tongues. whines and whimpers escape fall from your lips onto his at the feeling of the coil in your stomach about to break. the euphoria that overcomes your body when your legs begin to tremble, thighs squeezing around his hand, your virgin cunny covers his fingers in sticky cum.

but his assault on your pussy doesn’t stop there, he’s still going; fucking you through your orgasm. “can’t stop there, you can give me another one baby, know you can.”

“no! c-can’t take it! i—” his hand quickly cups around your lips, muffling any sound that dares to come out of your mouth. time’s almost up and atsumu would throw more than a fit if he got caught and had to restart already.

he could feel it again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. atsumu continued at his gruelling pace, with a slick smile on his face. It was so cute seeing you like this, half an hour ago you walked into this party as an innocent little thing, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you — under him with his fingers buried inside of you, on your second orgasm.

“cumming… ‘m cumming—!” you mumble under the weight of his hand, eyes fluttering shut. “atta-fucking-girl angel.” your chest heaved and knees buckled while you creamed on the blondes fingers once more this time at full force, making you see stars before he pulled out of you.

“wasn’t so hard now was it?” he smiled sucking your slick off of his fingers. atsumu is now leading by two points and cocky was an understatement, he can feel himself growing hard watching your body go limp against the sheets. if he had the time, he’d take you right then and there but there was always an opportunity for that.

“make yourself decent before you come out.” was the last thing he said to you, chuckling while the door clicked shut behind him.

get yourself together! the sound of your own voice mentally cursing you was enough to spring you back to your feet, pulling your dress down, and fixing your hair. luckily for you, everyone continued their conversations, dancing, and games as you crept out the room exhaling heavily with relief.

a few eyes lingered, especially kita’s. he peered at you from afar, while atsumu whispered in his ear. he raised the red solo cup with an upward tilt of his head before smirking in your direction, taking a sip from the cup.

frat boys are just the equivalent to mean girls.

hell, it hasn’t even been five minutes and he’s already going around telling everyone. you couldn’t bare to see it really, causing you to relocate somewhere else in the house, the stairs.

you sat on the wooden steps, eyes glued onto your phone screen. the feeling of someone walking down was evident as the hardwood took a dip at the weight, it was osamu.

he pondered, swirling the liquid courage in his hand. how could he get you on his white linen sheets? he thought. osamu smirked at the idea that popped into his head soon after remembering the common denominator between his bed and that dress you’re wearing.

starring at your back from a few steps above, his eyes moveded to suna who was situated mere meters away from where you sat. he feigns tipping his cup, eyes pointing down to where you sat then back to the brunette.

it was genius, if he ruins that pretty little dress of yours you’ll have no choice but to take it off.

“do it.” suna mouthed covering his words with a cupped hand.

the weight of someone walking down the stairs returns after having paused, you didn’t think much of it until alcohol poured down your shoulder and into your bra from above you.

“sorry angel! that was my bad.” osamu quips, downing the rest of his cup.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..”

“relaaax,” he drawls before reassuring that “you can come change up here.”

—♡︎—

osamu scanned his closet looking for one of his old flings’ clothes murmuring, “no-no-no-too big-too small— damn i should call her..” as he looks through the assortment of clothing.

you waited on his bed partly disgusted at the fact that these clothes were equivalent to trophies.

“check that drawer ta’ your left for something.” he gestures a waving hand, pointing to the side table next to his bed.

the drawer was less then helpful, containing: condoms, an agent provocateur set (brand new, mind you), a bottle of dior sauvage, and a miniature plastic bag with two smiley face pills in it.

he has drugs just laying in his room?

“what’re these?” prodding at the drugs you ask, dangling the bag between delicate fingers.

he turns to face you, smirking when he sees what caught your curiosity. “a pretty girl named, molly.” osamu banged a girl with that name now that he thinks about it.

“you guys seriously take these?” eyes narrowing at the tiny pill analyzing it’s appearance, but wanting to know more at the same time. “are they fun?”

osamu closes the closet door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. his attention is focused elsewhere when you display genuine interest in the party drug.

“wanna find out?” he asks with the tilt of his head.

fuck around and find out was an understatement, getting fucked after finding out was more accurate really.

“fuuuuck ‘samu..” your manicure runs through silver hair, as he messily laps at your cunt.

every flick of his tongue making your knees buckle, the pleasure was overwhelming your lower half as he teased your clit with the tip his tongue.

you couldn’t get over how good it feels, what was the point of staying a virgin when there’s men who will pleasure you like the miya twins.

“pussy tastes s’good princess.” he mumbles onto you, sending vibrations up your spine, continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.

he could feel now eager you were to get off, grinding yourself against his face in hopes to chase the orgasmic high that your body was so close to.

the loud noises of his mouth smothered against your pussy and broken whimpers fill up the room.

loud enough for suna to hear through the bedroom door he’s standing on the other side of. he could feel his erection growing, listening to his best friend taint his virgin girl bestie on the most sinister night of the year.

“righthererighthere! ‘m cumming— oh fuck!” the euphoric feelings of the drug in your system enhanced every last nerve running through your veins.

you’re loud, high pitched whines falling from your throat as you throw your head back, eyes shutting tight.

osamu’s face pushed into your cunt with force, nose nudging at your clit. little did the two of you know, the brunette purposely walked into the room with you on the verge of a mind blowing orgasm and osamu’s mouth quite busy.

“you cumming?” suna asks, gripping your face with slender fingers.

your eyes shoot open to see one of his hands planted on the back of osamu’s head pushing his mouth deeper into your pussy, the other holding your face, taunting from above.

“oh yea, you’re fucked.” he taunts, pushing your lips into a kissy face forcefully moving your head from side to side, observing your features.

suna’s done his fair share to know you weren’t all there, your dilated pupils, flushed face and very vulnerable state gave it away.

“don’t be shy, go on. might be ‘samu going to town on ya but your attentions on me, hmm?”

seeing you tweaked out on the verge of your third orgasm of the night really did it for him.

it was torture, watching and hearing the twins have their fun with you meanwhile he had to watch.

absolutely no fair. he’s the reason you even considered coming to the party at all it wouldn’t be all that bad if he used you as a reward for his efforts, now would it?

“rin!!” you whine, “get out! this is embarrassing!”

suna doesn’t bother listening to your protest. he’s already slid his shirt off, unbuckling his belt watching osamu make you cum.

“move it.” he chuckles, tugging at grey locks.

“hey, i had her first.” osamu scoffs at his friends audacity.

“technically atsumu had her first, but it’s my turn. so, are you gonna keep bitchin’ or get your dick sucked while i fuck her?”

the two boys spoke as of you weren’t even there, like you were just an object for them to play with. this wasn’t about the bet anymore. this was about you, and the fact that they’d never get the opportunity to see your tweaked out, legs spread, off molly ever again.

a once in a lifetime opportunity with you in a position to not protest.

suna’s shadow hovered over you, manipulating your body to fit both of them on osamu’s mattress.

hazy eyes stared into his green ones with incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. seeing you fucked out made him want it that much more.

“hang in there for us pretty.” his voice sounding so sincere, meanwhile rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit.

he pushes into you without warning, stretching your cunt around his girth.

“shit..” he hisses through his teeth. “definitely a virgin, fuck.”

“ah—!” your hand flies to his chest in attempt to get him to slow down. “s’too much..”

“none of that,” osamu coos, grabbing your wrist.

you didn’t even notice that he slid his boxers off, smearing precum on your lips like lipgloss.

“hey ‘samu where’s the—” atsumu says, swinging the door open to the lewdest live scene he’s ever seen. “holy hell.”

“are you gonna stare or join?”

sluttsumu 2023

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homeofthelonelywriter · 1 year ago

Text

Your lips | Pt. 1

(A/N) I don't think this will be along series, but there will be at least on more part! Also, I'm no doctor, or nurse, that's why I mostly skipped over the exam part!

Pairing: Simon x fem!pregnant!Reader

Warning: mutual pining, medical stuff (nothing graphic), mention of scars, pregancy

Synopsis: Almost done with your day (and your pregnancy), you get a last minute patient. The usual stoic and guarded Ghost is immediately charmed by you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

“There is a lot I can spare you from Simon, but the medical checkups are mandatory. There is nothing I can do about that.”

Price had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows were pulled together in a slight frown as he regarded his Lieutenant. Simon on the other hand just looked annoyed. There were many reasons as to why he joined the military, but being fussed over by grown people was not one of them. He opened his mouth to, surely, whip out a smart remark, but Price held up his hand before he had the chance.

“You have until tomorrow six p.m. to go to the clinic yourself, or I’ll drag you by your scruff, you hear me?”

With a defeated sigh, he nodded, before he left Price’s office. Might as well get it over with, right?

One look at your computer told you that it was almost time to go home. Your to-do list for the day was all ticked off and your list of patients had no name remaining. With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself out of your chair and onto your feet, your hand instinctively cradling your swollen belly. Your lips pulled into a smile as you felt a kick right against your hand.

With slow, even steps you made your way to the door of your office and leaned outside until you caught the secretary’s eyes. She smiled at you. But not a bright, sunny smile, no, it was a sad, apologetic smile. Your own smile faded, but you nodded before waddling back to your desk. By the time you sat down, a new patient file was displayed on your screen.

His entire name was redacted, only his callsign was displayed. Ghost. You quickly read through his file, noting that he obviously hated all medical personnel, since he barely showed his face here. By the time you were almost done, a sharp knock rang out from your door.

“Enter!”

From the heavy steps, you could discern that it was the soldier who had been added to your day last minute. Still, you kept your eyes on the screen, trying to get all the information into your head.

“Take off your shirt and sit down on the bed. I’ll be with you in a second.”

Your tone might have sounded harsh, but you quickly learned to use an authoritative tone with soldiers. Otherwise, they might not listen. Your eyes were still fixed on the screen as rustling sounded through the room, followed by the creak of the bed. Now that he was done, you slowly rose to your feet again and squeezed some sanitizer into your hand, grabbing your clipboard before waddling over to the man.

“Just a regular checkup, right?”

Your eyes finally landed on the man’s back when he grunted in response. And good lord, he had one hell of a back. Covered in scars and a few tattoos, his shoulders were broad and strong. You felt yourself blush as some not-so-innocent thoughts entered your mind and it took you a second to switch back to work mode and to stop admiring him. You dealt with soldiers all day, every day, and yet none have had that effect on you. Until now.

To distract yourself, you quickly started with the exam. Looking for any injuries, listening to his lungs and heart. Within a few minutes, you were done with his back and slowly moved to his front. You were ready to just continue the exam when your baby landed an especially firm kick against your womb. You came to a quick stop, placing your hand against the place the baby had kicked.

“Woah, you okay there, love?”

Ghost jumped to his feet, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, but you just waved him off, by now being used to it.

“I’m fine…just…pregnant with a very active baby.”

An amused huff left his lips before Ghost sat back down. And even though he looked the same as before, you noticed how his eyes were more focused now, looking for any sign of trouble. He almost seemed…protective.

After a few moments, you recovered and let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and Ghost. But you hesitated for a moment. How would you reach his chest? As if reading your thoughts, Simon spread his legs, allowing you to step between them and reach his chest. A smile tugged on your lips.

“Thanks.”

He nodded in response, keeping still while you continued your exam, only moving when you asked him to. You instinctively reached to your right, ready to take his blood pressure, but your hand came back empty, you had forgotten to bring it with you from the table. A tired sigh escaped your lips and you took a few steps in the direction of the table when Ghost placed a hand on your arm and stopped you.

“I’ll get it.”

Before you could answer, he was on his feet and already at the table, picking up the device. Something that always seemed so large in your hands was easily dwarfed in his and you couldn’t help but admire his hands. Hands which he used to kill people. Hands which surely could do unholy things to your body. Hands which…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the clearing of a throat and you finally noticed that you had been staring at his hands.

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

With flaming cheeks, you grabbed the device and swiftly pulled the sleeve up Ghost’s arm. Pressing two buttons, you watched as the sleeve slowly began to fill with air. This part was always kind of awkward since all you could do was wait. You expected it to be the same way with him, but instead, he suddenly spoke up.

“How far along are you?”

You looked up, surprise clear on your face.

“Uh, thirty-three weeks.”

A small smile pulled at your lips as you gazed at your belly, your hands softly gliding over it.

“Hm…husband must be excited.”

You chuckled dryly and shook your head as the device finally displayed the value you had been waiting for.

“No husband. No father at all, to be honest. Left as soon as he found out I was pregnant.”

If you weren’t so focused on filling out the form on your clipboard, you would have noticed Ghost’s entire body tensing up and his eyes darkening. His gaze swept over you, following your curves, as his mouth watered. How could someone abandon someone who looked this delicious?

But before his thoughts could continue, you looked up from your clipboard and smiled at him.

“All that’s left is drawing some blood. But since it’s already late, I assume you’re not sober, so could you come in tomorrow morning before breakfast? That way we can get the most accurate values.”

Ghost found himself nodding, a smile hidden behind his medical mask at the thought of seeing you again tomorrow.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You grinned before waddling back to your desk and sinking down on your chair. As soon as you were out of sight, Ghost quickly pulled his shirt on and got to his feet. He turned to look at you and for a split second, caught you staring before you quickly averted your eyes.

With a grin under his mask, he started to walk to the door, before he got an idea.

“Are you done for the day?”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with confusion.

“Yes, why?”

Ghost nodded and walked back into the office.

“I could accompany you to your car if you’d like. Carry your bag, you know.”

Your eyes widened, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’d like that, but I took the bus to get here. I don’t exactly fit behind the steering wheel anymore.”

“Oh, in that case, let me drive you home. You shouldn’t be on your feet that much.”

You shook your head, about to protest, but Ghost insisted and finally, you accepted. He watched you finish up your paperwork and pack up before he grabbed your bag and offered you his arm to hold onto.

With slow steps, he led you through the clinic to the doors and towards one of the base cars. One that could be used by all soldiers. On the way you gave him your address, not noticing the smile once he noted that you lived on base yourself.

After he helped you get settled and made sure you were buckled in, he got in and started the car, carefully taking off in the direction of your house. The car ride was spent in comfortable silence, and with you almost falling asleep in the passenger seat. But all too soon, the car pulled up in front of the army-issued house and Ghost quickly rounded to your side to help you get out.

He insisted on helping you get inside, only being satisfied once you sat on your couch with a glass of cold water in front of you.

“Thank you, Ghost. I really appreciated you bringing me home.”

He nodded, his mask hiding a sheepish smile and red cheeks.

“When do you start tomorrow?”

With a slight frown, you told him that you usually started at seven a.m. and he nodded, before saying goodbye and walking towards the door. But at the last second, he stopped and turned to look at you again.

“It’s Simon…my name.”

A grin spread on your lips as you nodded and slowly repeated the name, almost to yourself. But Simon heard it and he couldn’t deny that he loved how his name sounded coming from your lips.

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

#ghost #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #cod #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #fanfiction

806 notes · View notes

owololcat · 1 month ago

Text

Slugcat Dashboard Simulator!!!

💥 scavslayingchieftain

what in void’s name are these fucking thingies? /pos

⦻ vultureculture-deactivated119023

those are yeeks! They're normally native to outer expanse, though you may occasionally find a few in farm arrays if you're lucky! :3

💥 scavslayingchieftain

I love em gimme like 20

🍯 gourmdan-ramscug

I just saw a pup get carried into the treetops by a squidcada. Their mom was able to grab em before they could get hurt but now I'm wondering how many squidcadas it’d take to lift me…

🍯 gourmdan-ramscug

clerik dem

🎭 long-live-4pe

I think catboy pebbles would kill a wildscug.

🐁 the-johndoe

Wildscug from Outer Expanse here, can confirm. I only got one second to process the glory of an iterator in a catboy costume before I got my brain nuked and woke up back in The Wall.

🎭 long-live-4pe

… Not what I meant, but this is most certainly funnier than what I intended.

👁️ ripples-and-reflections

heyyyy sorryyyy your mate went down to the void sea and became an echo. yeahhhh he’s stuck between life and death with no escape to either. his attachment to his worldly desires was just too strong, sorryyy.

🌀 ur-getting-eepy

OE scugs, today is the day we finally decide...

🍯 gourmdan-ramscug

This is actually a fun way to gauge the colony's opinions on my antics. I’ll be keeping tabs on this! Thanks, Hypnotist!

🌀 ur-getting-eepy

OH HI DAD

🐟 moons-secret-lovechild

I just found 2 dead noodleflies with their needles shanked into each other. Can any nature-smart scugs explain why they do this?

🌼 fren2all

actually it's just a simple territorial dispute, which are always battles to the death in noodleflies. but what's really interesting is that if there's a winner left alive, they'll actually adopt the baby noots of the loser!

🐟 moons-secret-lovechild

Huh. Talk about a custody battle, am I right?

💥 scavslayingchieftain

my iterator just gave me a pearlreader and a cluster of pearls with a graphic novel series called “Spinning Top’s Folly” on them and WHERE THE FUCK HAS THIS BEEN ALL MY LIFE???

🪡 slash-srs

A new face to share brainrot with is always a welcome sight.~

💥 scavslayingchieftain

oomf, you don't get it.

i used to be a wildscug.

this is my first taste of iterator entertainment.

i can never go back.

🪡 slash-srs

OH SHIT, THAT IS A BIG DEAL. Anyways, your iterator picked a great first series for a creature who's unfamiliar with the benefactors and their history! If you're interested in fanfiction, I recommend trying to get your paws on some of the “Eternity Confluence” pearls by The Werelizard! Its this really silly canon divergence fic where Howlite Skies follows Spinning Top when they run away from the creche, resulting in extra shenanigans and a happier ending for both.

🦎 da-littlest-lizor

imma lizardcat, actually, but ty for the shoutout! I had a lot of fun expanding upon the sibling dynamic they had in the early chapters :}

🪡 slash-srs

H-HELLO?????

🐁 the-johndoe

I stole an egg with plans to eat it the following cycle but oops looks like I'm a dad now. forgive the shitty quality but meet batnip bread everyscug

🌼 fren2all

Pretty fucked up lookin slugpup

🐁 the-johndoe

monk ur supposed to be the nice one, don’t insult ur niece! >:T

🐁 the-johndoe

#so this is the fabled found family

@gourmdan-ramscug MOOOM HYPNOTIST AND MONK ARE BEING FUNNIER THAN ME ON MY OWN POSTS AGAAAAIN!

🌼 fren2all

Fuck kinda dad runs to the grandparent to solve his problems? lol

🐁 the-johndoe

I will suplex you into a patch of protorot grrr

🎭 long-live-4pe

Guess who finally got their title? The Gentleman, at your service.~

🦎 da-littlest-lizor

holup i thought u were a messenger how tf u get a title?

🎭 long-live-4pe:

I actually reside in a colony atop Four Painted Easels. I am a messenger by employment rather than by purpose!

As for how I earned a title in the first place, the scavengers took a pearl that was of great importance to 4PE, so I swiped it back from right under their snouts. Apparently I greatly resembled a gentleman thief from some old novels from the benefactor era.

🦎 da-littlest-lizor:

oh those scavs are gonna send they best elites after u lmao. i can def see how a colony would see you in that way tho, congrats! u earned it!

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solxamber · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! Loved your villainess series and i can't wait for a Jamil chapter! In the meantime, do you mind if I request Jamil x a reader whom the Asims are absolutely terrified of? As in they're one of the most genuinely kind people out there but they could eradicate you with a snap of their fingers when pissed (though they only do that in extreme situations and are pretty reasonable). So as soon as Jamil starts dating them, everyone in the Asim household starts walking on eggshells around him cause they don't want to be eradicated off the face of the earth. He still has to do his job but the more dangerous aspects or any extra work is delegated to somebody else. Basically, Jamil can now be as overachieving as he wants since nobody has enough of a death wish to risk pissing off his lover.

Jamil Viper x Intimidating! reader

thank you for waiting <3 i hope you like it

The moment Jamil starts dating you, the entire Asim household becomes a drastically different place. It’s not like you’re a tyrant or anything—you’re the sweetest, kindest person they’ve ever met.

You’re always smiling, polite, and helpful. But everyone knows about that side of you. The side that only shows when something pushes too far, and you go from warm and gentle to terrifying in the blink of an eye.

It doesn’t happen often—really, it only ever happens in extreme situations—but one close encounter was more than enough to put the fear of you into the entire Asim household.

The first time it happened, one of the servants had accidentally endangered Jamil by not paying attention. Nothing too serious in hindsight, but in the heat of the moment, you had stepped in, voice cold and eyes sharp as you reprimanded the poor servant with an intensity no one expected from you.

You didn’t yell or make a huge scene, but the weight of your words and the terrifying calm in your expression was more than enough to send everyone scattering. And now, that incident has taken on a life of its own, becoming a whispered legend among the staff.

Jamil, however, is a little too amused by the whole situation. He’s never seen you lose your temper with him, and he finds it kind of satisfying watching everyone tiptoe around, desperate not to cross you.

Not to mention, it’s made his life a whole lot easier. Suddenly, all the extra dangerous or exhausting tasks that used to be piled on him are conveniently handled by someone else. No one dares to risk upsetting you by overworking him.

As you walk into the Asim estate one day, the staff noticeably scatter, heads ducked as they try not to make any mistakes in your presence. You exchange an amused look with Jamil as he walks beside you.

"Did I do something to terrify them today?" you whisper, half-joking.

Jamil smirks, clearly enjoying this more than he should. "No, they're just smart. Nobody wants to be the one responsible for angering you."

You roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. "I’m not that bad."

"Tell that to the servant who accidentally put me in danger last month. I think he’s still recovering," Jamil replies, his voice teasing.

You blush, feeling a little guilty. "I didn’t mean to scare him. He just needed to be more careful."

"Oh, you didn’t scare him. You petrified him," Jamil says, his smug grin growing wider. “Now, everyone’s scrambling to make sure I don’t get stuck with anything that could stress me out, all because they don’t want you to get upset on my behalf."

He’s not wrong. It’s like there’s an unspoken agreement among the staff that keeping Jamil stress-free is the key to survival.

Tasks that used to involve risky magic, late nights, or heavy lifting are reassigned before they even reach Jamil’s to-do list. And it’s not just because Jamil’s Kalim’s right-hand man; it’s because of you.

The thought of you unleashing your wrath is enough to keep the household running smoothly, with no one willing to take chances.

Jamil stretches, looking relaxed for the first time in what feels like years. “I could get used to this,” he mutters, clearly reveling in his newfound freedom from extra work.

You shoot him a playful glare. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"Can you blame me?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got more free time, no one’s shoving dangerous tasks my way, and I have the best motivation to keep it that way.” He leans closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, “That motivation being you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, warmth flooding your chest. Jamil isn’t always one for open displays of affection, but when he does say things like this, they hit hard. You can’t help but smile, reaching out to take his hand as you walk together.

"I didn’t mean to turn the whole household into a bunch of scaredy-cats," you admit, squeezing his hand.

Jamil chuckles softly, pulling you a little closer. “It’s not your fault they’re terrified. You just have... a certain presence when you’re angry.”

You snort, shaking your head. "I’m sure you’re not complaining, considering all the benefits."

"Not one bit," he says, his voice smooth and teasing. “Though I’ll admit, I don’t need them to be scared of you. I can handle my own problems.”

"Uh-huh, sure," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “And here I thought you were just enjoying the luxury of not being overworked.”

Jamil leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “I enjoy being with you more.”

Your heart flips, and before you know it, you’re turning your head and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, unable to resist the moment. He seems a little taken aback, his smug exterior cracking for a second as he blinks in surprise. Then, a slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face.

"Keep that up, and I might start making excuses to slack off even more," he teases.

You laugh, shaking your head. "I can’t believe you. I’m not your excuse to get out of work."

Jamil grins, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “Maybe not. But you’re definitely the reason I’m a lot happier these days.”

He says it so casually, but the sincerity in his voice makes your chest feel tight with affection. You glance up at him, your hand still in his, and you realize just how much he’s changed since you started dating.

He’s still the same hardworking, overachieving Jamil, but now he’s more relaxed, more at ease. And you’re glad you can be a part of that.

Meanwhile, the staff is still scattering like leaves in the wind as you and Jamil stroll through the estate. Kalim, of course, is the only one who remains blissfully oblivious to the atmosphere.

"Hey, guys!" Kalim shouts, bounding over with a bright smile. “I just heard about a new event happening tonight! You two are coming, right?”

Jamil exchanges a glance with you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You know, Kalim, I think I’m going to take the night off. We have plans,” he says smoothly, pulling you a little closer.

Kalim grins, not missing a beat. “Oh! That’s awesome! Have fun!”

You can’t help but chuckle at Kalim’s eternal optimism, but as you walk away, you notice a few of the servants letting out relieved sighs. They clearly appreciate that Jamil is taking a break, but you’re well aware of what they’re really relieved about: keeping you happy.

Jamil’s smirk returns as you head back to your shared quarters. “I think I owe you for this.”

You raise an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For making my life a whole lot easier," he says, his voice low and teasing.

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile on your lips as you lean into him. "Just don’t get too cocky."

Jamil grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Too late.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the Asim household will always be a little terrified of you, but if it means keeping Jamil happy and safe, you can live with that.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x you #jamil viper x you #jamil #jamil viper

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osaemu · 1 year ago

Text

GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.

author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍

“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.

ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.

“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”

you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.

satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.

“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene.

“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.

“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?

you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”

“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.

“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against.

“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”

“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”

you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room.

now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.

kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.

a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor.

“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.

kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”

for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.

“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.

despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal?

it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.

“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.

kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”

your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”

kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”

well, fuck.

“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”

“you too, detective. stay safe.”

“i’ll do my best.”

kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.

you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”

you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.

“what the fu—”

satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.

“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own.

“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.

true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?

“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.

“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.

satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”

you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”

“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second.

“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”

“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.

“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”

“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”

you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”

“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”

your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“wouldn’t i?”

you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”

“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”

satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.

“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket.

seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.

and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.

“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”

you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.

but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.

“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”

“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips.

“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”

he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.

“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.

“suck my dick.”

part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you.

“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.

the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate.

satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”

and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.

“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”

it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.

satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”

when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin.

“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.

it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you.

so, naturally, you stab him in the back.

not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat.

satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?

at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.

“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”

“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.

satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”

and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.

what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.

but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”

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daryltwdixon · 2 months ago

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𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥

Bitch!!! I ain’t even a series girl and there’s multiple in here!!! Who is she!!! And look at me tagging a fluff fic!! Turning a new leaf round here. If you see something you like please let these wonderful authors know by showing them some much deserved love Sorry this is late! I was traveling and literally haven’t touched my laptop in days

Bicep biting by @tinysunshine

Daryl Dixon x you one shot summary: you kiss daryl’s arms and have to explain what cuteness aggression is after you bite his bicep ♡ my thoughts: I feel like woodchuck todd from easy a when he’s gobblin’ on that wood log LET ME GET A BITE OF THAT BEEFY ARM, DIXON

literally anything by @cavillscurls

(bitch I’m such a fan we got a whole damn list to get thru)

daddy next door

joel miller x you ongoing series summary: It’s summer in Texas, and when the dashing Joel Miller moves in next door, your less than favorable life gets completely turned around. my thoughts: ohhhhh my heart. such a different version of joel than im used to (rich & fancy) but it really hits the spot. cute romance and I see you in so much of this!!!

ass man

joel miller x you drabble summary: joel miller is an ass man my thoughts: what I wouldn’t do for this man to put his hands all over my best ass(et). Mya showed me this after I went off about joel in fact being an ass man and I was eternally horny grateful

Inescapable 🕊️

clint (freaky tales) x you one shot summary: Clint always gets what he wants—this time, you’re going to give it to him. my thoughts: YES SIR YES SIRRRYYYYYYYY mya has already heard all my praise but we’re gonna say it again holy SHIT Clint smiling into my neck as he puts a baby in me?!?! SIR MAAM YES PLEASEEEEE this has been a fave trope of mine lately. Captive reader who used to scream and beg for him not to touch now loving every second of it sorry bit dark it’s giving “run” vibes which was rec’d on last month’s list!!! And that shit is one of my faves so I knew this would tickle my pickle in the same way. I wish I could be eloquent about this shit but my GOD it’s so good trust.

Joel in glasses by @mushgloomz

peepaw!joel x you drabble summary: what the title says my thoughts: I’ll just put this here and you tell ME you don’t feel some type of way: “ain’t i old enough to be your daddy, darlin’?”

of rage and ruin 🕊️ by @corazondebeskar-reads

werewolf/alpha!joel x you ongoing series summary: Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though. my thoughts: no no no you don’t understand. You don’t GET IT. Is this omegaverse? Yep. I’ve been dabbling. And the others just don’t do it like you do baby 😭 I read this way too fast and now I just wait for the updates but holy shit. No one puts my baby in a shock collar 😭😭😭😭

Idle Threats by @pearlessance

jackson!joel x you series summary: Joel has watch duty with Jackson’s twenty-year old, smart-mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for. my thoughts: I’m so glad I didn’t post this fic rec on time because holy mother of god. I blew through this so quickly because of how fucking beautiful the writing is. Joel Miller feeling dirty about liking a younger woman? Check. Religious themes denouncing god for his one and only girl? Check. I’m sorry I’m so sorry I don’t usually add this but some of this dialogue is 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 “Because if anyone but me ever called you a slut an’ I heard about it?” He presses your clit harder, grinning when you start panting. “I’d have to kill ‘em, baby.” .....Like W H A A A A A a a a aaaa 😵‍💫😵‍💫

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lesmana-enterprise-ltd · 5 months ago

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WIP | Revival of The Windslar M-Train Station

Revival of a Monumental Project

Due to high demand, Lesmana Enterprise will be renovating the Windslar M Train Station to meet the latest standards of travel. Originally built in 1998 by Lesmana Enterprise in cooperation with the Windenburg Royal Ministry of Transport, the station serves as the terminus of the Windslar-Lykke line in the Windenburg High-Speed Rail network. This renovation aims to enhance passenger experience, modernize facilities, and ensure efficient connectivity for future travelers.

Easing your Travels

As part of the renovation, the Windslar M Train Station will be transformed into a modern transportation hub, equipped with state-of-the-art amenities. Passengers can look forward to a spacious café, a convenient capsule hotel for overnight stays, and premium waiting lounges. The Station will also feature digital information kiosks, luggage storage services, automated ticketing systems, and high-speed Wi-Fi to enhance the travel experience. Designed with comfort and efficiency in mind, this upgrade ensures that Windslar M remains a key gateway in the Windenburg High-Speed Rail network.

The Seraphim, the Legend of the Windeburg High Speed Rail Network

The Magnetschwebebahn-Serie A12 Seraphim (MSB A12 Seraphim), developed by Behr Technologies, is the latest advancement in high-speed rail travel. Designed for efficiency and comfort, this cutting-edge maglev train can reach a top speed of 510 km/h, ensuring rapid transit across the Windenburg High-Speed Rail network.

To enhance passenger experience, Lesmana Enterprise and Landgraab Electronics collaborated on optimizing the train’s interior, integrating ergonomic seating, ambient lighting, smart infotainment systems, and advanced climate control. With a focus on both comfort and luxury, the Seraphim sets a new standard for modern high-speed travel.

The Seraphim emits a unique and ethereal sound as it glides along the track. If you stand near the train (while stationary), you can hear the soft hum of its electromagnetic systems, resembling a choir in harmony—a phenomenon that inspired its name. This signature sound adds to the futuristic and almost otherworldly experience of riding the MSB A12 Seraphim. (*yes this is also true in game)

More Information

Windslar M-Train Station will come in two options.

Windslar M-Train Station building.

The Seraphim on a viaduct for photo op.

In Other News, Lesmana Enterprise is now on X!

Follow below link for more.

Sul Sul!,

The Lesmana Enterprise Co., Ltd.

#simblr #lesmana-enterprise-ltd #sims 4 #sims 4 aesthetic #sims 4 screenshots #ts4 simblr #sims 4 build #sims 4 no cc #showusyourbuilds #train station #high speed rail #train #station #windeburg #the sims 4 story #WIP #ir #cr

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 3 months ago

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Ptolemaea

❥Yandere Park Seonghwa x fem reader

♫"You poor thing. Sweet mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."Ethel Cain, Ptolemaea♫ Baby Playlist ♫

Baby Series ! (this is the second part chronologically)

➯a/n: shiiiiiit im hitting yall with a double whammy today !! i didn't think id finish this and code l-o-v-e at the same time but here we are

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: yandere, angst to the max

✫彡wordcount: 10.7K

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: only briefly proof read: kidnapping, drugging via sleeping pills, restraints, throwing up (non descriptive), smart and resilient reader(which makes it even sadder😭), everyone is morally muddy, physical altercations, threats of violence and death (not towards reader), light injuries to reader, seonghwa unintentionally (?) manipulates everyone, talk of murder, non sexual nudity, panic attack

✩index: little space- a regressed state of mind where someone feels like a child. little / age regressor - a person with a little space. caregiver - someone who cares for a little, usually their significant other. hyung - a close male friend older than you, used by other males. nim - a suffix added to the end of someone's name to show deep respect.

➯disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and does NOT represent a healthy little and caregiver relationship, or a healthy relationship of any kind.

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

You awake sometime in the morning, though you have no way of knowing when.

Your mind is foggy. Your eyelids are heavy with protest while you force them open, screaming at you to close them as sunlight hits you.

You're in Seonghwa's room, laid on your back in his bed.

You blink away some of the blur in your vision and see him sitting on the floor with his back against the side of the bed, twirling a roll of duct tape on his fingers. "H-Hwa?"

His head snaps up, eyes immediately on you. "Hey, Baby," he whispers as he stands up, his actions look like they're in choppy slow motion to you. "How did you sleep?"

"Uhm," you groan as you shift on his bed, kicking the blankets off of your legs, "yeah, good." When you go to rub your eyes —

Your hands are tugged back, tied to the headboard above you by a fabric of some kind. What the fuck?

Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

It all comes back to you. Seonghwa in your apartment. His confession of murdering your ex boyfriend. The fact that he roofied you.

You let out a yell, but it comes out muffled. He was quick enough to slap his hand over your mouth, shaking his head. "Don't scream, Baby, don't scream, please." Your lips won't part more than an inch under the pressure of his palm. You stare at him wide eyed. "Please don't make me gag you, I don't want to do that."

What the fuck? What the fuck?

He doesn't want to do that? But he's okay with drugging you and kidnapping you and tying you to his bed? What else h-

You look and are thanking every God you can think of as you see that you're still in your work clothes.

"Are you going to scream?" He asks after a moment, looking down at you.

He looks much better than he did last night in your apartment. He looks well rested and like he's about to leave the apartment, freshly showered and dressed.

You shake your head underneath his hand, choking back your whines of fear.

When he moves his hand hesitantly, you immediately thrash and kick at him, but true to your word; you don't scream. You don't want to be gagged. "Get away from me, you stalker," you sneer through your teeth, tears beginning to swell in your eyes despite your attempts to fight them off.

"Stop, Baby- Baby, please," he grabs your ankles without much of a struggle, making you still quickly. He looks up at you from his place by your feet. Your chin wobbles as you feel your first tear fall. You know it will be the first of many. "Listen-" Forget this, you think.

"Help! H-" He dives on top of you, his long legs holding yours down as you helplessly fidget; his hand back over your mouth heedless of the way you try to bite at it.

He bites his lip as he looks at the door. Over your heavy breaths, he strains his ears to hear anything in the apartment.

Nothing.

"Huh," he huffs with relief, looking back to you, "they left for practice already." He watches the way your face falls as he moves his hand, sitting up to straddle your hips. "Sorry, Baby. I'm going to figure this out, I promise," he leans over and grabs the duct tape from the floor.

"No! No, no! Please, Hwa," you wail as the tear of the tape rings in your ears, "please, don't! I-"

It's over your mouth before you can plead more, and he sits back; listening to your muffled cries. "I did warn you. I don't want them to hear you when we get back, so..." He sighs softly, cupping your cheek even as you flinch, using his thumbs to wipe your tears as they become puddles on your cheeks. "Those pills will probably have you drowsy for a while. I was like that when I took them the first few times, made me tired for like twelve hours."

He strokes your head gently as you yell and curse under the tape. "So, try to get some rest, Baby." You'll probably cry yourself back to sleep. He hates to leave you when you need comfort, but he's already been missing from practice for almost a week. And he finally feels like he isn't being torn apart atom by atom.

He slept next to you last night, fell asleep as he thought about what to do. He didn't have a fool proof plan, admittedly. All he knew was that he couldn't let you leave him. He hadn't slept more than two hours a night since you'd broken up with him, and with you in his arms he finally got a full nights rest. He couldn't sleep knowing you were out there, but not knowing if you were okay.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours. I have to go to work and then I'll go by your apartment and get some of your things, okay?" It wasn't really a question — that's what was going to happen. That's where he was going to start. And he'd figure things out as he went.

You shake your head, shouts weakened by the tape. You wouldn't be able to be heard with his door shut.

This fucker! Is all you can think as he grabs your phone from his nightstand and uses your thumb to unlock it, unable to move it away because the fabric holding you in place.

"Ah, Yejin," he gives you a small half-smile after reading your notifications, "she really does care about you, huh? She's so observant of you. Even noticed that you turned off your Blink."

This fucker!! He turned off the doorbell camera so she wouldn't be able to see him dragging you out last night or coming back later.

"She won't be a problem for us, right?" He pouts as he taps on your phone.

You shake your head quickly, muffled begs of him not hurt her barely intelligible. You don't know what you'd do with yourself if she met the same fate as Namsun.

1:42AM. JINAH SENT A MESSAGE. look, i told you a million times i'm sorry, babe. seonghwa deserved to know the truth. you really like him and he likes you! you said he's the one!

1:44AM. JINAH SENT A MESSAGE. well... i'll talk to you in the morning. i love you (y/n), don't stay mad at me forever.

7:02AM. YOU SENT A MESSAGE. i'll talk to you later. you really crossed a line !

He makes sure to match the way you text, turning it off before putting it back on the far side of the nightstand. "I'd hate to have to get rid of her, she seems like a good friend."

"Mm-mmm!"

He looks at the way you shake your head, panic evident on your face. "Good."

He finally gets off of you, and leans over. "Get some rest." Is all he says before he kisses your head, and then he's out the door.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

You allow yourself to freak out for a good long while. You let yourself sob and cry and scream and thrash against your binds for probably a hour before you make yourself calm down.

You take a million deep, shaking breaths through your nose before your tears finally come to a stop.

Holy shit. Is your only thought. You knew Seonghwa was a bit clingy- a bit strange. But you had no fucking idea that he'd be capable of kidnapping you, telling you without even a hint of remorse in his voice about how he cut off your ex-boyfriend's head.

You're sweating, your throat is dry, your eyelids feel swollen, your head is heavy.

He was right, those pills he crushed up and slipped you nearly six hours ago are still working in your nervous system. And your state of hysteria was only working with it to make you want to close your eyes even more.

But you refused to give up so easily. You refused to let this maniac you once loved get back and find you in the same place he left you.

You let out another shaking breath out of your nose, turning your head to see your phone only an agonizing arms length away.

But your arms were out of the question, if your binds didn't give by now with all of your squirming, they weren't going to. He tied them too well.

You slide as far to the edge as you can, then hold one of the bars on the wooden headboard to give you leverage as you turn your body sideways; groaning at the stretch on your shoulder.

You bite your tongue and test your plan. You outstretch one of your legs, a sigh of relief as your foot reaches the device. You don't allow yourself to celebrate just yet.

You struggle to rid yourself of your socks, but you manage. No way are you going to let it slip because something as simple as socks.

You slowly nudge the phone off of the edge, catching it between your feet and breathing deeply as you pull yourself back fully onto the bed. Then, and only then, you let go of it and let it fall onto the dark grey blanket.

With another steadying breath, you maneuver yourself awkwardly to kick and bump it up to your head. Freedom is almost within reach. You slide your hands down as far as they'll go and succeed in pinching it between your index and middle finger.

As you're trying to get a better hold on it, pressing the power button —

It slips from your fingers and lands between the bed and the wall.

You let yourself cry some more.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

Your arms are losing their feeling, your skin tingling with the lack of blood flow and your muscles crying just as badly as you were.

You could hear movement within the apartment. Muffled and unintelligible speech. Shadows passing under the door.

You focus on the Lego black dahlia on his desk as you force yourself to stay calm.

By the time Seonghwa finally opens the door, you have managed to stop your tears and panic almost entirely; trying to think of a rational way to get out of this.

Clearly, he was fucked up in the head; so logical reasoning would probably be a lost cause.

But, also clearly, in his fucked up mind; he loved you and cared for you. At least in his own sick way.

So that was your plan of action. Get his heart soft and then get Mingi or San's attention.

You sniffle as he closes the door quickly behind him, trying to get some deep breaths in to calm yourself once more as you freak out at the mere sight of him. You get ready to act your ass off. But the duct tape on your mouth makes it a bit difficult.

You were sweating underneath it from the May heat, or maybe because your nerves. Your work clothes are damp and rumpled.

"Hey, Baby," he whispers, coming slowly to sit on the edge of the bed. He sits down the glass of water in his hand on the bedside table, he doesn't notice your missing phone. He sets a duffle bag by his feet. He hesitates, but places his hand on your thigh. "You must be really thirsty, all that crying..."

When he looks up and meets your eyes, you make them soft and begging, trying to even out your shallow, rapid breaths to make it seem like you aren't still freaking the absolute fuck out. "I know," he luckily doesn't notice the small flinch you have when he reaches and pets back your sweat-soaked baby hairs, "I know you're scared, but I'm still just me, okay?"

You move your eyes down to the tape on your mouth, humming quietly.

He sighs. Rubs the bridge of his nose. Looks at you with narrowed eyes before leaning forward and pinching the corner of it — and then he pauses. "Don't scream. Promise me you won't scream, okay?"

You nod quickly, maintaining eye contact with him to tell him you're truthful. To trick him into thinking you are.

"I'm gonna just," he pouts as he gets a good grip on the side of the tape, "rip it off like a band-aid, okay?"

You bite your tongue to prepare for the pain, but the intensity of the sting still makes you whimper; although thankfully you can keep your sounds to a minimum to satisfy him.

You immediately start sucking in breaths of fresh air, closing your eyes as they fill with tears once again. Of course you could breathe through your nose, but in a situation like this it was hard to get a good lung-full. Between panic and your crying making your nose stuffy, you were beginning to think he might accidentally let you suffocate.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, My Baby," he rubs his thumbs over the irritated skin gently, resting his forehead against your chest like he's shameful.

Simply replenishing your neglected lungs is enough to make you want to sob. But you can't. You can't have any of your real emotions showing to him. You take one last shivering breath before whispering, "Hwa?"

"Yes, Baby? Yes?" His head is up in a millisecond, he's cupping your cheeks and hovering over you.

"Can you untie me?" You see him begin to shake his head, so you kick your puppy dog eyes into high gear, "please, Mommy?" He halts his immediate rejection of the idea as you mutter that name, wanting to give in the second you do so. "Please? My arms are tingling, it hurts..."

He's still unsure of what to do, you can see him fighting with himself. So you let one single tear fall to give him a shove to the direction you want him to go, "Mommy?"

"Of- of course, Baby!" He quickly gets to untying your arms, tugging off the impromptu bindings made of some suit ties he found around the apartment, "I'm sorry, precious." He repeats himself. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

You don't believe him. You don't think he's actually sorry. A remorseful person wouldn't do any of this in the first place. "It's okay, Hwa," you sigh with relief as he lowers your dead-weighted arms to your sides. The itching from within your limbs intensifies as your blood begins moving around again; it isn't just uncomfortable now, no. Now it hurts.

You let him see these tears, and he wipes them away with his finger tips ever so gently. "I-I'm so sorry, my little angel. Mommy didn't mean to hurt you-"

"I know," you sniff, twitching your fingers to see just how long it will take for you to get feeling back enough to lift your arms. "I... I'm sorry I left you," you begin, choosing your words very carefully. He always knows when you're lying, so you tell the truth, for the most part. "I was just scared that... that we wouldn't work out. Because of how public your life is and when we those pictures of us got out I just-" You stop yourself as you find your voice getting louder, lowering it, "My first thought was, I just ruined his career... And I care about you too much to do that." At least you did.

He watches you intently as you speak, and then watches you some more. And then, "oh, my sweet girl." He dives ontop of you and wraps his arms around your neck, hugging you tightly. "I love you so much, Baby. So, so, much! I would rather be with you than have this stupid career."

You can barely lift your forearms enough to rest your buzzing hands on his sides, but you manage, "don't say that, Hwa. You love your job."

"I love you more." He says without hesitation, his face still buried in your shoulder. "I love you more. I- I cherish you more than anything else in the world. I would set the goddamn world on fire if you said you were cold."

You take slow, calming breaths as you manage to fist the sides of his shirt in your fingers weakly.

"I think- I'm gonna be sick. I'm gonna be si-" He seems like he anticipated this, quickly snatching up the little trash can and helping you up calmly as you gag. "Oh my g-" You cut yourself off as you empty your stomach into the bin; the image of the man who gently rolled up your sleeves and listened to every word you said and kissed you like you were a fragile doll — it was gone. The man who made love to you like you were the last other person on Earth. Shattered. Replaced by your brain visualizing the words he spoke last night. All you can see is him hunched over a body, stabbing it so violently that he manages to decapitate it.

"It's okay, Baby," he rubs your back gently as you retch, "get it all out. I know, it's a lot to take in."

You hold the bin with all of your (admittedly weakened) might, hiding your face in it as you dry heave, tears flowing all the while.

You feel him stand, hear the zip of the duffle bag. You look over at him with as little movement as possible, "Hwa?" You're almost afraid that he's going to be pulling out instruments of terror, but what you see is arguably worse.

He's pulling out your clothes. From your apartment. From your room, your dresser and closet. "Hm?" He looks over softly, like he didn't just make you vomit with his words alone.

"Are you going to kill me?"

He pauses for a moment before he lets out an airy laugh, "kill you? I would never do that. Don't be silly." He opens up his dresser, pushing his clothes over to make room for yours.

If he's keeping your clothes here... he isn't letting you go.

"...Are you going to rape me?" Your voice trembles as you ask the question that's been on your mind since you woke up tied down.

"Baby," he pouts, abandoning his task to come and cup your heated cheeks; looking deep into your eyes, "Baby, no. No. I love you. I know this must be confusing for you, but I promise it's for your own good. For our own good. I need you, and you need me."

All you can do at this point is cry. He's right. This is fucking confusing. How is this the same man who rocked you to sleep when you had a nightmare? How is this the same man who was so kind and shy the first time you met?

"Here, Baby," he takes the can, sliding it away carefully. He picks up the glass of water by the bed and holds it to your lips. You hesitate. "It's just water." You eye it suspiciously.

"It's just water," he reiterates, taking a small sip, "see?"

When he puts it back to your lips, you gulp as much as you can in each swallow. You want to take the glass yourself and chug it, but your arms are just now feeling normal; if a little sore. And you need your strength.

You definitely need to go through with your plan, and soon. Your eyes have been flicking to the door ever since you woke up. More specifically; the crack under it. When a shadow passes underneath it, you almost yell out then and there. At least one of his roommates is home. If it's San, Wooyoung is probably hanging out with him too. You want to yell to them for help as soon as you see the shadow pass.

But that would be stupid. He could slap his hand over your mouth before you could even finish a single syllable.

He sets the empty glass back down and looks at you with something resembling softness.

"Are you going to let me go home?" You whisper, already dreading that you know the answer.

"No, Baby."

Well. Here goes nothing.

You wipe your brow and sniff, looking to the fan on the far side of the room. "Can you... can you turn that on, please, Mommy?"

It's a simple request that he can't deny, especially when you throw a 'Mommy' his way. He smiles lightly and pats your head before he goes to do just that.

The second he turns his back, you scramble to the wall furthest away from the one he's going to. When he crouches to turn the fan on, you start yelling. You start banging on the wall that you know is shared with Mingi's room.

"Help! Mingi!! Help me, Hwa's crazy!"

He falls to the floor, head swinging around to face you with wide eyes. He looks shocked, almost. "Baby, stop!"

"Help me, please! Mingi! San! Please, he killed someone! He won't let me leave! Min- noooo, get off me!"

You thankfully got a lot of words out - because of his distance and shock - before he got to you. He slams his body into yours, crushing you against the wall as his hands try to stop yours from their incessant banging — which Mingi and San have undoubtedly heard.

He didn't know how exactly he would explain this to his members. He was still workshopping that, to be completely honest. All he knew was that he couldn't let you leave his side ever, ever again.

"Mingi! Plea-" When one of his hands finally comes to cover your mouth, you bite at him like a rabid dog.

He slams his hand onto the wall before falling to the floor with you as you twist and turn in his arm.

"Please, someone help me!" You shout with a new wave of uncontrollable sobs as your weak arms start giving out from the exertion. You've ended up immobilized underneath him on the floor, flat on your stomach.

If he wanted to take back his words and kill you, he wouldn't have any problem doing so.

There's nothing you can do to defend yourself. No weapons within reach.

You look around frantically, and spot something under his bed. Barely peeking out from between two storage boxes — the missing lego piece.

The stalk of the flower. If you aimed it right, you might be able to do some damage.

You claw for it.

"Baby, stop! Stop fighting!" He growls as he manages to pin your arms to your sides, essentially bear hugging you. "Why did you do that?" Crushing all hope, he drags you back up and forces you to bend over the bed; his chest against your back, holding you down.

"You're crazy!!"

"Hey, let go of her!" A wave of relief rushes through you as you hear the door slam open, Wooyoungs yell following soon there after.

"Oh, thank god! Young-ie! He's crazy!! He cut someone's head off-"

"Stop!"

"He drugged me! He broke into my apartment and kidnapped me! Please, get him off me!! Get him off! Don't let him hurt me!"

"Get off her, man! What the hell is wrong with you?" You feel San struggling with Seonghwa as he keeps his arms locked around you tight.

Mingi is standing in the doorway with wide eyes, watching the scene unfold. When he heard you screaming, he didn't know what to think of it. If it was a sick joke you and Hwa were playing or what. But the terror in your voice couldn't be ignored as you called out for help. It was entirely too bone chilling to be faked.

He'll never forget that scream of 'no' you let out as he heard your body thud against the wall. You sounded like you were facing the Devil himself and about to be dragged to the underworld. Pure dread.

Wooyoung is in the same boat, watching in horror as San tries to free you. He was in the hallway when you screamed. He heard it so clearly. Like you were right next to him. You begged for anyone to help you like you were on the verge of dying. You sounded so broken.

"Shit-" he runs to help San free you from his grasp, prying his fingers off of your arms while he tries pulls him back, "Hyung, stop! Look at what you're doing to her!" His nails are dug into your skin, little streaks of blood trailing down your arms and staining the gray sheets.

"You can't take her from me! You don't understand!"

"Mingi, go-" San hisses as Seonghwa steps on his foot, "go, get the others! Hurry!"

They still aren't exactly sure what was going on. What they did know for certain was that you were right, Seonghwa was not in his right mind.

It isn't the first time they've witnessed him hurt someone. All the other times though, it was another member. And he was always angry.

He didn't sound angry, he sounded terrified as they tried to take you away.

As Mingi ran as fast as humanly possible, he heard him yell. "You can't take her! Please!"

Wooyoung is successful in prying one of your arms free, and you cling to his neck like he's a life-saver in the middle of the ocean. "Oh my god, Young-ie! He's crazy!" You cry nearly unintelligible as you're pulled around between them.

"Damn it, Hyung! Let go!" San finally succeeds in tearing the taller man away from you completely, falling to the floor with him. "What the fuck, man!?" He quickly flips them over, holding down the older man down by his shoulders.

"Get off me!" Seonghwa thrashes, eyes never once leaving you as you crumble, hugging Wooyoungs neck and crying into his shirt as you prattle on about what he's done; though very little of it is comprehensible. Wooyoung helps you kneel on the bed, looking at you worriedly.

Despite your rocky start with him, you came to call him a friend along with Yeosang. He was always over when you came over to visit Seonghwa, so you spent a good amount of time with him.

When he wraps his arms around you in a comforting manner, and Seonghwa fucking snaps. "Don't touch her! I'll kill you, Jung Wooyoung! Get your filthy hands off her, I'll break your fucking fingers! Please," he breathes heavily as he struggles against San, shocking them even more with his three sixty change of tone of voice, "don't touch her... She's My Baby. You can't take her..."

He wraps his arms around you tighter, holding you as you cry into his shirt.

He thinks that his Hyung has finally lost it. He's had episodes of... something... before; but never like this. Never digging his nails into someone like an animal protecting its kill from vultures. Never threatening to break a members fingers because they touched something he thinks that they shouldn't have.

"Hyung, what did you do...?" San asks, turning his head and seeing the way you shudder and curl up on yourself. His hold on him faults for only a second, but that's all Seonghwa needs to knock him off balance and throw the man off of him with all his strength.

You're yanked away from Wooyoung by your belt, plucked off the bed; landing with a thud and a yelp before being drug across the hardwood as you scream. "No, no!"

He drags you all the way to a corner while the men recuperate, slamming his back into the wall and pulling you into his chest. He pulls his knees up and effectively shields you from the world while you fight against him weakly. "Shhh, it's okay, Baby."

"Stop..." Is all you can weep, swatting at his hands as he wipes your ever following tears until you start to lose feeling in your arms again. No, that's not it. They aren't tingly. They're heavy. No, no, no, no. "You fucker... there was s-something in the water?" Your vision is going blurry, just like last night.

"Just another sleeping pill, sweet girl," he sniffles as he fixes your messy hair, "I knew you'd be acting like a brat..."

Wooyoung hugs San's arm tightly as they watch with wide eyes, almost afraid to move. What the actual fuck is going on?

Your eyes meet theirs over Seonghwas knees, begging silently before he rolls your heavy head back to face him. You don't have the energy to move again after that, only giving him a feeble glare through your dazed and tearful eyes.

You're fighting as hard as you can against the sleeping pill he'd forced you to ingest on an empty stomach. At least last night, he put it in the food. That helped you to delay your inevitable unconsciousness.

"(Y/n)?!" You hear with a parade of quick footsteps. Yeosang, you manage to connect the voice to the man who you considered a friend. He won't let Seonghwa hurt me, you think. Now that the calvary is here, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes. Sleep takes you quickly, and you can only hope to wake up somewhere safe.

They enter the room as you slump in Seonghwa's hold. His gaze still fixed on your face with tears of his own in his eyes. He cradles your face in one hand, the other holding you to his chest tightly.

They look around slowly, trying to connect the dots.

The blood on the sheets, and the wounds on your arms that must be the source.

The empty glass with a residue in it.

San and Wooyoung afraid to move after their Hyungs violent behavior.

The ties still on the head rest, and your irritated wrists.

The bite mark on Seonghwa's hand.

"What the fuck." Wooyoung whispers, not as a question. As a statement.

What the fuck, indeed.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

After a long moment of tense silence, nobody daring to move a muscle; Hongjoong is the one to do so.

He slowly steps forward, stopping the other members from following him by holding out his arm.

It's quiet beside Seonghwa's light sniffs as he admires your sleeping face. Hongjoong is almost on his tip toes to be as silent as possible.

He stops just over an arms length away, crouching down, "...Hwa?"

The man jumps, wrapping both of his arms around you. San and Wooyoung flinch at his sudden movement, still holding onto each other after what they'd witnessed. Mingi is holding Yunho's hand so tightly his knuckles are starting to lose their color.

"Joong," he blinks as if coming to recognize the man in front of him, "Hongjoong... please. You can't take her away from me."

The leader looks over to the others, then around the room again. "What did you do, Seonghwa?"

Seonghwa shakes his head, going back to looking at your peaceful face, "I d- I..."

Wooyoung silently comes behind Hongjoong, leaning down to his ear and whispering, "he drugged her, he admitted it. She said he killed s-"

"I had to!" Hwa's head snaps up to glare at the younger member.

"Hyung, maybe I should-" Yeosang steps forward, reaching out to grab you as San yells to warn him —

"I wouldn't touch her!"

Seonghwa grabs Yeosang's wrist, squeezing it with all of his might, "I will break your fucking arm." He threatens before throwing his arm, making him stumble back with shock evident on his face.

"Okay, Hwa! Calm down." Hongjoong raises his hands as he kneels and slides between the two, "look," he waves his hands slightly, "I'm not going to take her. We aren't gonna take her. We're just worried, 'kay? You can't see how crazy this looks from the outside, right? Why don't you tell us what's going on?"

Hongjoong is his best friend. He's been there through every up and down of his unstable emotions. He's the only one Hwa isn't eyeing like they're about to jump him.

He knows how to handle their Hyung.

"Hey, why don't we all go to living room, huh? We can give you some space while you explain things."

They do just that.

The six younger members are sitting along the wall, watching with varying degrees of fear and confusion and anxiety.

Hongjoong tells Seonghwa to sit you down on the arm chair, and he begrudgingly agrees. You curl up on yourself in your sleep. "I should put her in bed-"

He immediately goes to pick you back up, but Hongjoong places a hand to his chest; shaking his head. "She's okay, Hyung. How long has she been in there, anyway? She'll probably appreciate being somewhere else, don't you think?"

The oldest member seems to be fighting himself. He wants to change you out of those uncomfortable office clothes and settle you in front of the fan to have a comfortable sleep. "I can't- I-"

"Sit down, Hyung," he gently leads the man to sit on the couch across from the members, and he's the only one who sits within reach; right next to him.

Their eyes are going from you to him to the floor, they desperately want to ask for answers — but they know better than to overwhelm him when he's having an episode. They let Hongjoong handle it.

"Did you drug her?" He starts asking questions, one by one so as not to spook him.

Seonghwa finally tears his gaze away from you, looking down. "Yes." Their hearts drop.

"Did you... kill someone?"

He's silent.

"Hyung?"

"Yes."

Their hearts fall to their stomachs. Yunho puts a hand over his mouth, squeezing Mingi's hand back with the other.

"Will you tell us who?" Hongjoong swallows around the lump in his throat.

"Lee Namsun. Her-" He has to take a deep breath as he finds himself getting angry at the very thought of the man- "her ex-boyfriend."

Hongjoong leans back into the couch, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Seonghwa, you know I have to ask. Why? H-how?"

"Because he deserved it. He hurt her. I... I followed him from his job and I stabbed him in the neck. I decapitated him and I threw him in the river. Last night. Before I got her."

He says it so nonchalantly that it takes a moment for them to process it. "Ooookay," Hongjoong finally nods, clearing his throat and pushing back his tears as he sets a hand on Seonghwa's knee. "Uhm, and why- uh- why did you kidnap her? Because she broke up with you?"

"Because I need her. She needs me! I-"

"What were you gonna do to her?" Wooyoung speaks from the wall, his death glare like nothing else.

"Nothing! I love her-"

Wooyoung stands up abruptly, despite the way Jongho tries to pull him back. He points at the man accusingly, "you had her bent over the bed for 'nothing'? Yah, be real! You were going to ra-"

"I would never do that!"

"Yeah, fucking right! You already drugged her and tied her to your bed-"

"I wouldn't! You think I'm a monster?!"

"Yes! Yes, Hyung! You are a crazy person and I'm tired of pretending that you aren't!"

"Wooyoung," San exclaims, jumping up quickly to hold him back as he sees Seonghwa's eyes getting darker by the moment.

"I'm crazy? Is that what you think of me?!" Hongjoong is holding back Seonghwa in a similar manner.

"Yeah, you are! You think it's normal that we have to fucking tip-toe around you when you're upset!? You- oh my God!" He laughs in disbelief, gesturing to your figure; knocked into a dead-sleep from the drugs even as the men yell. "You think it's a-o-fucking-kay to kidnap someone because they break up with you?! Look at yourself, you're delusional! You don't love her and you're certainly not above raping her-"

"Wooyoung! That's enough!" Hongjoong snaps, making the man finally shut up; his jaw tight and his glare never ending.

The air is charged with anger and tension.

"I'll kill you," Seonghwa fumed, "I will fucking kill you. If you ever-" He reaches before Hongjoong can stop him, before Wooyoung can move away; and fists the man's shirt. Nose to nose, "ever say that shit again. I killed that bastard because he hurt her. You think I'm gonna do the same shit? If you ever say that again... I will kill you where you stand. I don't care if there's a million cameras on us. Say I don't love her, say I'd hurt her like that — and you're a dead man. Got it?"

Wooyoung gulps. This is the second time in less than an hour that his close friend has threatened his life, and he can tell by the look in his eyes that he means it.

"...Got it."

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

After that, none of the members dared to speak any of their thoughts. Only Hongjoong. And he was very, very careful with what he said.

He gently coaxed everything they needed to know out of him.

How he got into your apartment, which was by way of the spare key he saw Yejin use. How he knew Yejin wouldn't suspect him: because he left out the door while the camera was still on and then used your phone to turn it off before coming back to get you. How he texted her from it so she wouldn't know you were 'missing' yet.

"Where is it now?" Hongjoong asks, keeping himself as calm as possible as his mind races a million thoughts per second.

"On my nightstand."

"Hyung," Mingi whispers, clearly afraid to speak up, "no, it's not. I didn't see it, at least..."

Seonghwa looks to your sleeping form, then down the hall.

"She couldn't have called for help, right?" Yunho whispers as well, "you had her tied up." He's afraid that he'll be caught in the crosshairs if the police come knocking any minute. In their hurry, none of the members grabbed their phones. If they had, he would have called them himself. But now it's too late for that. Until Hongjoong figures something out, they're stuck in this apartment with the ticking tomb bomb that is their oldest member.

"Fuck-" He stands up quickly, running down the hall with Hongjoong following quickly after.

While they and Yunho search his room, Yeosang quickly scrambles over to you. The first time he's moved since they all sat down almost two hours ago now. "Hyung," San murmurs even though there's no chance he'll be heard over the frantic search. "What are you doing? He's crazy, if he sees you touching her-"

"Shh," he shushes him quickly, placing two fingers on your wrist and breathing a sigh of relief as he feels your heart beating normally. "Jesus," he sniffs back his tears as he searches your body for the missing phone. If he finds it first, he can call the police before Seonghwa even comes back to the living room. But it's not there.

"Hey," he whispers as he shakes your shoulder, "wake up. Wake up, please." He almost thinks it's a lost cause before you groan, slapping at his hand clumsily. "Hey, where's your phone?"

"Sang?" You slur as you fight to open your eyes.

"Where's your phone?" He asks urgently, slapping your cheek lightly as your eyes attempt to close again. "Hurry."

"I dropped- the bed and... wall," you manage to mumble before your eyes shut, grabbing onto his sleeve in your last waking moment.

"They won't find that, right?" Yeosang turns to look at the others as he puts a hand over yours comfortingly, even though he knows you won't notice it.

"Not unless the ringer is on," Wooyoung bites at his nails, shaking his head, "it'll look weird if we suddenly go try to help look."

"We could tell Seonghwa that she woke up, when he comes to-"

"I got it!" Hongjoongs yell breaks any hope of that plan.

Yeosang looks from you to the door. It's too late for that. Should have thought of it sooner.

"When did you turn her location off? Where's the last place it pinged?"

He's back at his spot on the wall when they return, phone in hand.

"Uhm, by the convenience store. I didn't think of it until I was almost home..."

"We can drop her off there, never speak of this again. She'll just seem like-"

"No!" It's Hongjoongs turn to be grabbed by the shirt, "no! I can't let her go! I can't- I can't function without her! Please, please... You don't understand."

Hongjoongs eyes are wider than ever. Seonghwa has never gotten physical with him before. Not even during his worst episodes. He feels like his heart just might explode as he gets his first taste of what the rest of the members have been through. It's beyond terrifying. Hwa looks unhinged this close. Well — more unhinged.

"O-okay, Hyung... Just, let me down?"

Seonghwa takes a moment to realize. He's pushed the leader to the wall and has him pinned to it, hovering just above the floor. He steps back, and Hongjoong's feet hit the floor with a thud. "I'm sorry... I- I-" He places his hands over his mouth in shock at his own actions. "I'm sorry, Hongjoong. But you don't get it... I can't live without her. I can barely sleep not knowing if she's okay, if she's taken care of! I think I might kill myself if-"

"Hyung, please..."

"I'm serious." One look at the man tells everyone that he is.

Despite everything he's done to them, and now you — he's still their Hyung. Their oldest member. Their friend. The man who encouraged them. Looked out for them, going on a decade.

"We'll figure something out..."

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

Your head hurts. Everything hurts. Your stomach is in knots. You swallow, and it burns your raw throat.

Everything comes back to you like a bad dream; in bits and pieces.

"Yeo-" You groan out weakly. He's the last thing you remember. "Yeosang," you call for him, tears lining your eyes the second they open and see that you're still in the apartment.

He quickly comes into your blurry field of view, his eyes sad and a finger to his lips, "shhhh."

"What's goin' on?"

"Keep your voice down," his words sound like a distorted radio, slowly becoming clearer as you further awaken, "he's in the other room."

"Huh?"

Their manager had come when Hongjoong used San's phone to call him; with Seonghwa looking on the entire time. They'd been in his room for forty five minutes by this point. Muffled conversation was all that the other members heard for the entire time, none of them dared to speak up and start a conversation of their own.

Mingi had started crying at some point, and Wooyoung and San were silently holding him.

"Why isn't he-" you go to stand up, quickly falling into Yeosang's arms when your knees give out.

"Shhh, if he hears you, he'll come running," he soothes you quietly, rubbing your back as you begin to sob. "I'm so sorry."

You slam a hand over your mouth as you whimper, curling up on the floor in his arms. You're putting the pieces together, he can tell. His apology says more than that he's sorry for what's happening to you — it says that he's apart of it now.

"Get-" you shove him away, hyperventilating, "don't touch me." You look at each of the members in the room with wild eyes. "What are you doing? What are you doing?!" You don't care that Seonghwa will hear you. "You bunch of cowards!" You use the chair as leverage to hoist yourself up, even as you stumble. "You're gonna let him get away with this? Young-ie?"

He looks away at your broken questioning of his actions. He's too deep in now.

You hear the door down the hall open, and your heart drops to your feet. "(Y/n)?"

You dash for one of the members. You don't know why you chose him. Maybe because he's got muscles. Maybe you think he'll protect you. Maybe because you didn't know him before, so you don't feel as betrayed by him.

Seonghwa comes running into the living room, Hongjoong and someone you don't recognize behind him.

You cower behind Jongho, and he does protect you. At least for now. He reaches back and places a hand on your arm, the other outreached to stop Seonghwa from grabbing at you.

"Stay away from me!" You yelp as you grab the back of Jonghos shirt, backing into the wall and dragging him with you.

"Yah!" It's the first time that he's spoke since this entire fiasco started, and it makes Hwa jump back. "Listen to me! You're freaking her out. Let her breathe. Let her breathe, okay? Give her some space. She's having a panic attack, can't you see that?"

Seonghwa looks between the two of you a few times before taking your appearance in more closely. You're breathing heavily, ribs shaking with the force of each forceful intake. Your hands are trembling, knuckles losing their color as you hold onto Jongho's shirt tightly, and the grip on the fabric is the only thing that keeps you from falling over completely. "Okay..." He backs away slowly, biting his lip. All he wants to do is snatch you up and rock you in his arms until you feel better. "I'm sorry, Baby," his voice is met with cries as you slide down the wall.

"This can't be happening! This ca-can't be real!" Jongho slowly lowers himself to sit infront of you, putting up a wall between you and the eldest member. He looks him in his eyes, almost daring him to try and grab you. He doesn't know what's come over him, but since you sought him out for protection; he won't let you down in that regard. "I trusted you! Oh, my God! I slept with you- I slept with- oh, my God!"

Mingi covers his ears as you sob, leaning further into Wooyoungs arms. Yunho covers his mouth as finds himself letting out a whimper, squeezing his eyes shut as they fill with tears.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Yeosang is completely detaching from reality to protect himself from his friends weeping, staring at the ceiling; not even noticing as his cheeks become wet by his crying. San wants to curl in a ball and disappear, deeply disappointed in himself for allowing this to happen — but also not being brave enough to lose his Hyung.

"Why!? Answer me!"

Seonghwa wipes his eyes, looking away. Hongjoong puts a hand on his back, and he turns quickly; hugging him tightly and hiding his face in his shoulder. Their manager is watching with...unease.

"Answer me..." You pant through your tears, falling onto your side. "Hwa..."

He moves his head ever so slowly from Hongjoongs shoulder, meeting your tearful eyes with his own.

"Why?" You choke out, grabbing back onto Jongho's shirt as Seonghwa turns around to face you fully.

He slowly moves, like he has to hold himself back from rushing in and grabbing you. Because if he doesn't, he will.

"Why?" He repeats you, sitting infront of Jongho but looking right past him. Looking at you. Like you're the only thing in the world. "I didn't know what else to do... Loving you is the best thing I've ever done. And I couldn't let you just leave. Not when I know you feel the same way. I can't let the world tear us apart. I know- I-" He shakes his head, "I never... I never felt this way about anyone before. You make me so scared. I love you so much. I can't rest knowing you're out in the world without me. I need to take care of you. I need to know you're safe. I need to know you're mine. I can't let anyone else have you."

Everyone in the room is staring at him with wide eyes, quiet cries and sniffs from all around as you all realize he's too far gone to ever let you go without a fight.

"You're my Baby."

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

When his words only served to make you cry more, unable to barely breathe when you realized nobody in the room was going to go against him, Hongjoong finally tore him away; giving you space to wail out every emotion you were slammed with.

You were staring at the floor blankly by now. Still laid on your side. Still behind Jongho, who was like a loyal guard dog. Still in between a state of terror and shock and betrayal and numbness. They come in waves.

You don't register any of the very long conversation that they had with their manager. You don't register anything. You're gone in your own head until Hwa comes into your view again.

"Baby? Can you hear me?"

"...Yes."

"Are you ready to get off the floor now? I promise I won't tie you up again." Because you don't have to, you want to snap, you have everyone on your side. "You have to be hungry by now, right? It's been a whole day-"

"I don't want to eat anything from you." You state simply, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. "That didn't go very well for me last time."

He sighs, patting Jongho's shoulder. The man gives you one last sad look before standing up and going to join the rest of the group in the hallway, where hushed conversation continues. Leaving you alone with him.

You swallow around the lump in your throat, looking up at him with a new batch of tears brewing in your eyes. You are hungry. You're thirsty and sore and scared and you feel like your skin is crawling.

"Don't cry, Baby," he whispers softly as he kneels down beside you, lacing his fingers in yours, "no more tears."

"I c-can't help it," you finally break your facade of strength, of numbness to the situation, "I'm scared..."

"C'mere, angel," you allow him to pull you up and cradle you to his chest. "You don't have to be scared. Mommy will take care of you."

No. No. No. No. Not now. Please.

You're so stressed out and tired, your inner child is clawing to come out. To just let him do what he promises he will. To let him take care of you.

He can tell. He can always tell.

"Aren't you hungry, Baby? You need to eat. I can make something in front of you, that way you know I won't give you anything. Will that make you less scared?" He pets your head, like you're a doll with the softest hair.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop talking like that.

"...Yes."

He smiles inwardly as he stands with you in his arms. You don't have it in you to fight right now. You cry silently as you allow yourself to be carried to the kitchen.

You catch the others eyes as he carries you past the entrance to the hall. You briefly register that their pinkies are all locked together, most of them with tearful eyes.

"Hyung?" They begin to file out of the hallway and follow you, watching him closely as he sets you on the counter.

He soothes out your rumpled office clothes and kisses your forehead even as you grimace. "Poor Baby. I promise I won't let you go hungry again."

Your promises don't mean anything.

You swallow your tears, looking over to Yeosang; who quickly turns away. "I think," he clears his throat, "I'm going to go to bed."

Yunho quickly joins his side, and he's brave enough to meet your gaze. Only for a brief moment. "I'm sorry, (Y/n)-nim." He bows deeply to you before following Yeosang out of the door.

These assholes seriously aren't going to help...

Jongho does the same. Then the manager, who hadn't spoken one word to you. San and Mingi settle themselves at the table with far off looks in their eyes. Hongjoong joins them, similarly not gutsy enough to look at you.

As Seonghwa gathers some things from the pantry, Wooyoung is quick to approach you, leaning in to whisper. "Keep your head on straight, okay? Don't let this fucker break you. I'll find a way to help you."

He's gone as quickly as he came, giving you a more than ninety degree bow before leaving out of the front door, making a point to glare at Hwa as he slams it.

You want to believe him. You want to have hope — you have to have hope.

Wooyoung, no matter how betrayed you felt by him at the moment, is right. You won't let Seonghwa crush you so easily.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

"Are you serious?" You deadpan at him.

"Yes."

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as a way to comfort yourself at the very idea of what he's proposed. San and Mingi had left after a very awkward dinner, leaving you staring at Seonghwa incredulously; Hongjoong along with you. "Hyung, maybe you could let that slide, just tonight... Don't you think she's been through a lot already? Maybe you could just go to bed?" He suggests lightly, picking at his nail polish.

"You'll feel better after a shower, right, Baby?"

"Fuck you- ow!" You hold your head after he gives you a smack upside it, glaring at him.

"It's been a long day. You've been in those sweaty work clothes for twenty four hours. You're taking a shower. Got it? I'm not going to let My Baby be filthy." You let your jaw drop, looking over to Hongjoong; who still hasn't met your eyes the entire time you've been here.

"Are you going to let him get away with this- hey! Put me down!" You yell as Seonghwa comes up behind you and lifts you from your waist, holding you tightly as you pull at his arms.

"Goodnight, Hongjoong," Seonghwa says like he isn't hauling your writhing figure away.

You're determined to put up a fight. If nobody else is going to help you, you'll have to help yourself. "Go to hell, Hongjoong!" You scream as Hwa carries you down the hall, grabbing at every door frame you pass to slow him down.

"Don't be so rude, Baby," his tone makes you laugh, you feel like you're already losing your mind. You have a right to be rude in this situation. "I know this is going to be a hard transition for you, but it'll all be okay."

You fall to the tile floor of the bathroom as you finally struggle your way out of his hold. Your muscles are still heavy with the weight of who knows how many sleeping pills he gave you. "Hwa, seriously... don't make me shower in front of you." Your heart is pounding against your ribs with a vengeance as you see him lock the door. You put on your best begging face, though all you really want to do is scream and claw at him. But that hadn't gotten you anywhere but here.

He seems to consider it, but all that does it crush your hopes harder when he shakes his head. "Sorry, angel. You need to clean up. And I can't trust you to not do anything stupid."

All you do is stare.

"Come on, I know you're tired. The sooner you get c-"

"No."

He pauses, his jaw tightening. "Baby, if you aren't under the water in the next minute I will wash you myself."

No, he won't- You similarly pause. You don't know what he will or won't do, to be completely honest with yourself. A week ago, you'd've laughed in someone's face if they told you he'd drug and kidnap you. "What?"

"Get in the shower, or I will get in with you."

"Seriously?"

"Your time is already almost up."

"Are you fucking kidding-" You yelp as he leans forward quickly, grappling at your belt. "Hey! Stop! Stop it, I get it, I'll do it-"

"It's too late for that," you find tears welling up in your eyes for the umpteenth time as he speaks; yanking your belt off, "I know that you know the rules, Baby. They haven't changed. So stop being a brat. Stop cursing, stop being rude. Do you understand me?"

"Yes..." You whimper as he yanks away your pants, and scramble out of his reach with big eyes, "I can do the rest."

He takes a slow, calming breath before nodding. "Thank you, Baby." You flinch as he leans and kisses your head. You know that he's going to live up to his threat of showering with you as he begins undressing himself.

You have to take a moment to collect yourself before you start doing the same so that you don't have a repeat of this morning and lose the only food you've got today.

"Please, can't I do it on my own?" You try one last time as he turns on the water, your arms wrapped around yourself protectively.

"No," he pulls you forward and under the spray of hot water, making you recoil at the sudden sensation, "you lost your chance. Next time do what I ask, okay, Baby?"

"Okay..."

"Okay?"

"...Yes, Mommy."

He places a kiss on your forehead that could have felt like affection. But it's much too piercing and invasive to your heart.

You try to detach yourself from your body, you try so hard. But it won't let you leave. You're forced to feel every soft touch of his hands as he washes you clean.

Thankfully, truthfully to his words, he never tries to do anything even remotely sexual. Seonghwa is a lot of things, but he isn't a liar. Not to you.

His soul would never let him, it never has. Ever since the beginning, when he found himself blurting out the truth of his identity before he could stop himself.

His touch is innocent as he turns you around to wash your back, and you can't decide if that's somehow worse. If you'd rather him just be a through and through monster instead of going back and forth between soft moments and terrifying admittances of murder and obsession. You suppose not. At least there's some bit of your Hwa that you can try to hang onto until you get away.

"Hwa?" You speak lowly, just over the pitter-patter of the water.

"Yes?" He's moved you gently out of the way as he washes himself up, allowing you to try to hide yourself in the corner.

"What's going to happen now?"

"We'll go to bed," he shrugs, tilting his head back and looking over at you as he rinses the shampoo from his head.

"That's not what I mean and you know it," you hold yourself back from throwing a curse word at him, not wanting to anger him now that he's calmed down.

"We're going on a couple weeks hiatus until you get settled. While our manager sorts some stuff out. I'll go by your apartment again tomorrow and get you anything you want. Be thinking of a list."

He says it all so casually. Like this isn't entirely life altering and deeply fucked up.

You slide down the corner of the shower and wrap your arms around your knees.

The irony isn't entirely lost on you, but you can't focus on it at the moment. You broke up with him because you didn't want drama or stress, and you got it slapped back in your face ten-fold with a big side dish of trauma.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what he would say. He lets you have your moment to yourself until he turns off the water.

You let him wrap his arms around you and heave you up. When he wraps a large towel around you, you hold onto it for dear life, thankful to finally have some cover.

He wraps one around his hips before leading you back into the room the day started in by your hand. He knows you won't be making a run for it right now.

He closes the door and suddenly you feel like you're in an entirely different world. Like everything has shrunk around you. Like it's suffocating you. Like the world has wrapped its hand around your neck.

"You know how I said the rules haven't changed Baby?" He had them set in place for you while you were dating, for when you were in little space. Simple things, things you appreciated at the time. Like set a reminder to eat and don't be mean and always remember your manners.

"Yes..." You try to ignore the fact that he already has your clothes mixed in with his in his dresser, but it makes you want to gag.

"They haven't for me either, okay?" You had some for him as well, when he acted as your care giver. No taking away comfort items, always ask how you feel before doing something new, things that made you feel safe.

You didn't know how safe you could feel when he had broken into your apartment and rifled through your things. "Okay..." It didn't matter anyway, you were out of here the first chance you got.

"I have some new ones for you." He hums as he hands you a pair of pajamas, giving you the freedom to dress yourself as he does the same.

"I don't want you touching the front door. Even if someone we know is knocking, stay away from the entrance. You're going to eat with us at every meal. And this last one is very important," he cups your cheeks to make you look up at him, "don't look anyone else in the eyes." Your eyebrows crease with confusion, and he elaborates, "you're My Baby. Only mine."

His voice is stern. Leaves no room for any type of rebuttal. "Okay?"

"Oka-" You stop yourself, remember your manners, "yes, Mommy."

"There's my sweet girl." You hate the way his smile makes you think back to times when things were okay. When they were perfect.

When you crawl into the bed after he gestures, you curl up as close to the wall as you can possibly get while he turns off the light.

He knows you're afraid of the dark, so he isn't surprised that you let him hold you without a fight. Any comfort is better than none in the darkness.

And you'll cling to any comfort you can get as the void leaves you with nothing but your own mind.

You're feeling entirely too many emotions all at once, but above all — betrayal.

Yeosang, Wooyoung... you considered them friends. You considered them good people. You thought that of all of them.

Nobody is coming to save you.

Nobody did save you. They had the chance. Were they cowards or were they his victims as well? Probably a heavy mixture of both.

The only people who might be looking for you will be Miss Lee and Yejin. Yejin... Yejin... She thinks you're mad at her. She doesn't even know you're missing yet. How long will it take? Seonghwa has the resources to cover his tracks pretty well. Will she even be able to connect the dots? Will she be able to even fathom the idea that an idol is holding you captive? An idol that you were dating?

That you were dating...

He, above all, has betrayed you. Forget Yeosang. Forget Wooyoung. San. Mingi. Any of his group mates. Forget his manager. Forget the world.

You let him into your life. You thought he was a good man. He acted like one. You thought he was the one.

Seonghwa seems to sense your oncoming panic attack, because he wraps his arms around you tighter and rubs your sides right before you break into a fit of loud, ugly sobs.

"Shhhh," he coos sweetly, resting his head on your back; holding you tight. "It's okay."

It is not fucking okay.

"Stop, stop," you cry quietly for nothing in particular, "stop." You don't know what you want to stop. Maybe everything. Everything. You want everything to stop.

You begin to thrash in his arms, his apparent ease in holding you down only serving to make you more panicked. "Stop." You say it louder. "Make it stop. Stop."

You fight and cry, fight and cry. But you don't get anywhere. You can't get away. "Make it stop! Make it stop! Please, I've had enough!"

You let out a scream of terror into the dead of night, all of your thoughts entirely too much for your overwhelmed brain to handle.

"STOP!!"

❝Ptolemaea❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

#ateez #yandere ateez #yandere ateez x reader #ateez x reader #park seonghwa #yandere park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #yandere seonghwa x reader #yandere fic #angsts fic #baby series

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