#and again. where'd his friends go

[fushitoru]

back to the kittty, cause she's kinda pretty!

pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) bf!sukuna x reader x toji, masseuse!nanami x reader, bully!suguru x reader, childhood best friend!choso x reader, best friend!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn tropes! (part 2) inspired by this awesome post by the cool and super talented @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3

warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), sub!satoru supermacy, porn no plot, vaginal sex, doggy, fem reader, "sloppy seconds," pre-established consent for all, reader accidently eats an aphrosidiac for choso's, bullying in suguru's, oral (m and frecieving), fingering, semi-public humiliation, lowk pathetic toji, art by 3aem, nOT EDITED

a/n choso's is my favorite yet again i love a pathetic man that rails me into next tuesday <3

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

KAMO CHOSO ⸺ MY HOT CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND ATE SOME WEIRD CHOCOLATE AND WANTS ME TO DICK HER DOWN!

Your best friend, Choso, was lounging on his couch, flipping through different movie options on Netflix while you were in the kitchen, bending and squinting through the different options. It’s a Friday night, and the both of you opted to stay in for movie night.

“Choso!” You complained, huffing while putting your hands on your hips to shout at him in the living room. “Why do you only have fuckin protein shakes and raw chicken in your fridge?”

All you get is a noncommittal shrug while he pauses on the preview for some shonen anime. “There should be some chocolate.”

Gasping in excitement, you go back to rummaging through his fridge like a raccoon and there you find it—-a pink chocolate box titled “tabs.” Smiling to yourself in excitement, you don’t hesitate before popping on of the bars in your mouth, appreciating the cherry flavor while grabbing another one. With your mouth full, you ask, “Do you want one? These are sooo good, where'd you buy them?”

“Nah, I’m good. Just come over here, you’ve been taking too long.” He sends you a glare and motions for you to sit next to him, to which you set the chocolate back in the fridge and pad your way over to him. “I think Sukuna bought these off the internet and that they were kinda bougie.”

You look at him, slightly alarmed. “Isn’t he going to kill you?”

He looks over at you—a little softly, you note—and ruffles your hair, to your dismay. “It’s okay, I’ll buy it again for him. Gonna blame your big back ass for it being gone.”

“Die.” You stick your tongue out, crossing your arms while settling into his side. 

Choso noted that you were being a bit more cuddly than usual, touching him more as soon as you got onto the couch. He decides to ignore it. “Ok, we’re going with Spider-man, k?”

You nodded into his side—he could tell you were flushed by the way you had continued to grow warmer and warmer, with beads of sweat dotting your temple. He paid it no mind, choosing instead to click on the movie and watch it play.

You were heating up. 

You tried to ignore it, because you hadn’t felt feverish before or done anything in particular to cause you to be sick (your coffee and ramen diet had been fixed after midterms season after Choso got on your ass about it). But about 25 minutes into the movie, you couldn’t bear it anymore, your vision blurring at the edges as you mumbled, “‘ts too hot. Gonna take off my shirt.”

Choso, who had been focused on the movie, tensed and looked at you, eyes slightly widened. “Wh—” Before he could even get a word out, you stood up—eyes slightly unfocused—arching your back while grabbing the bottom hem of your t-shirt and peeling it off, causing Choso to gulp as you uncovered the swell of your breasts in your red lace bra. You went back to borrowing yourself on his side, the softness of your boobs pressing against his arm. 

Choso closed his eyes because there was nooo way he was popping a boner for his best friend. No way. As both of your eyes went back to the movie, Choso focused on reciting the Japanese National Anthem to distract himself from the soft breaths you were letting out near his ears—and the way they tickled them—as well as the rise and press of your chest against his arms as you heaved. 

You, on the other hand, did not feel relieved. At all. There was a stickiness in between your thighs that made you think your period had started, but it had ended a week ago. You were probably just ovulating. Cuddling into Choso further, you put your legs on either side of his torso, burying your face into his neck and taking a deep sniff. At this point, you ignore the movie as you tried the soothe the heat that was going through you.

“What are you doing?” Choso was ram–rod straight and turned to peer down at you incredulously while reciting in his brain, until the tiny pebbles, grow into massive boulders. 

You continued your whiffing—-he just smelled sooo good—and sobbed, “I don’t know, but it hurts.” At this point, the feeling between your thighs was unbearable. You started to subtly grind on the side of his torso, much to Choso’s surprise. “‘M sick, Cho, but I’ve been eating healthy! I promise!” you whined. “Except for the chocolate right now. It hurts!”

At that moment, he knew he fucked up.

These were the tabs chocolates Sukuna was buying for his girlfriend. The ones viral on social media for serving as aphrodisiacs.

“Fuck,” he groaned while you continued to rub yourself onto him, now fully moaning and sighing as you tried to chase relief.  “Fuck! I fucked up.”

“Choso,” you whined loudly, prompting him to leave his state of anguish to look at you worriedly. “I feel so empty.”

Choso snapped.

Bent over, face buried in a pillow on the couch, Choso rams into your creamy, wet pussy, the squelching sounds echoing across the empty apartment. Punctuating his words with a thrust, “is-” plap! “what-” plap! “you-” plap! “wanted?”

“Yes!” you squeal, body bouncing as his rough snaps of his hips jostled you around, “You’re making me feel so good, Cho!”

“Do you know how much of a tease you’ve been?” he growled, balls hitting your ass as he pulled a hand back to spank you, red handprint imprinting itself on your cheeks. He groans at the sight of him leaving his mark on you. “Gonna take my cum, right?”

FUSHIGURO TOJI AND SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ I GET MY BEST FRIEND’S SLOPPY SECONDS! (a/n lol im not gonna lie this is just me ovulating and wanting to be creampied by two men)

Whenever Toji was at Sukuna’s place, it was like you, his girlfriend, pretended he wasn’t there. Because why were you always dressed in the tiniest of shorts and a tank top that could barely even hold your tits in and keep them covered? Sometimes, Toji thought it was Sukuna’s play—dangling you in front of him like a piece of meat, reminding him what he couldn’t have. 

Sukuna and Toji did have a bit of a…competitive friendship—one of good nature, of course. Toji, nonchalant as he is, didn’t really care whether he lost or not in the little skirmishes they had, whether it be seeing who can lift the most at the gym or walk somewhere faster. But he’s definitely seen Sukuna eye his groin in a mental competition to see if he was bigger or not.

Safe to say, Sukuna relished in the win. In a sense, he was obsessed with the submission. Not that Toji could care. He didn’t care when he flaunted his girlfriend around, groping you in front of him just to make him feel jealous…right?

Because why was his dick hard, him all hot and bothered as he listens to your moans and the plap! plap! plap! and squelches of Sukuna’s dick drilling in you? You’re both in the room, and Toji’s in the living room, confused as to why the fuck Sukuna asked him to come over when you clearly had a dick appointment with him. 

“Mmm, Sukuna you’re making me feel so good!” You whine, and Toji curses, closing his eyes and cursing whatever god was out there to make him subject to such torture. In his gray sweatpants, his bulge is undeniable as he hears Sukuna pleasure you. 

Then, he hears Sukuna call out to him, jumping as the other man yells, “Yo, Toji. I know you’re out there, man. Come in!” He then laughs meanly, speeding up to silence whatever protests you were making. Toji curses once again and moves to open the door just for his eyes to widen at what he’s seeing.

There is an obscene amount of cum oozing from your hole, it looked battered and swollen from the abuse Sukuna has dealt to it. There are tears in your eyes, a pretty pout on your face as Sukuna continues to use you as your fucktoy. And Toji realizes that Sukuna is looking at him while his hips languidly gyrate into you.

 “‘kuna–” you sob, embarrassed and cheeks heating up even further as you felt Toji’s eyes rove over your form, utterly decimated by Sukuna.

But you’re interrupted out of any potential protests you can make as Sukuna smacks your ass—Toji’s eyes not missing the jiggle—as he abruptly pulls out and motions Toji to come closer. “I’m gonna let him borrow you, okay baby? You see, Toji’s kind of pathetic here. Might as well give him sloppy seconds, right?”

With that, Toji is moaning as he slowly enters you, your pussy sweetly clamping on his dick as he can literally feel Sukuna’s cum every time he thrusts. The utterly debauched feeling of his still-hot come lubricating his every thrust makes his eyes roll back, lost in the feeling of your pussy as you whimper and squeal everytime he hits your g-spot.

“Yo,” and Toji’s attention is temporarily swayed to Sukuna, who’s watching the both of you with darkened eyes, manspread in a chair. “Come inside, okay? It’s my treat.”

NANAMI KENTO ⸺ DIRTY MASSEUSE GIVES HOT BABE A DEEP TISSUE MASSAGE! (WITH A HAPPY ENDING)

Working in corporate was hell.

Sitting in a chair all day slaving away at spreadsheets and emails was definitely not something your younger self imagined you doing, but alas, you were only but a slave to capitalism. Even your hip flexors could feel it—they were tight, and your upper back hurt a lot.

So, here you were, in the waiting room of this bougie massage salon that you decided to treat yourself to. After all, you’ve been a good girl with your savings, making sure not to spend loads on stress-virtual-shopping so you can blow lots of bucks into this 2 hour service. The lobby is neat and glamorous, as you wait while rubbing your back. You’re currently engrossed in watching a compilation of Moo Deng videos until a deep cough interrupts you. “Miss?”

You turn to face the rich, baritone voice that’s said your name, and then suddenly reeling back. In front of you was probably one of the most handsomest men you’ve ever seen, with blond hair and sharp cut facial lines. He’s rubbing his palms together, which seem laden with oil as he looks at you plaintively. “Shall we take it to the massage room?”

“Y–yes. We can do that,” you nervously affirmed, gathering your purse and belongings to tightly follow behind him. 

When you arrive at the room, the stoic man motions for you to get changed. “Please put on a towel. We’re going to be doing a deep tissue massage, so the towel will serve as a protective measure.”

You blush at the thought of this man seeing your body covered in nothing but a towel, but follow his directions regardless, putting your belongings in a corner while you step out of the changing room and into the massage room once again. You try to preserve your modesty as best you can as you go to lie down on the table. The only things you hear from him are the clinks of bottles as he rummages through different oils, uncovering them. The smell hits you dead on, soothing your senses already with the essential oils. 

And then, his rough, big hands are on your back, pressing into your shoulder blades. You jump, like a scared deer, and he lets out a deep chuckle. “My bad. I’ll be doing your back side first.”

“Okay,” you whisper in response, already closing your eyes in bliss with the way he’s roving his thumbs over the planes of your back, pressing in deep as he works out the kinks in your back.

In one particular spot in your lower back and hips—the one that’s been hurting like a bitch because of your endless time sitting in a chair—he presses his thumbs with the exact right pressure, and you moan.

You can’t help it—the chronic back pain has always been there, but he makes it disappear with a languid movement of his fingers over your back. But he pauses slightly as soon as the whimper comes out of your mouth. “Miss, are you alright?” Flushing, you are quick to affirm. “Yes, sorry.” With a lower voice, you say, “That was, um, that was just really relieving.”

He laughs melodically and continues his ministrations, going even lower, but pausing right before putting his hands on your ass. “May I pull the towel up? Direct contact will be helpful in this region for a deep tissue massage.”

“Y-yeah,” you say softly. “You can do that, you’re the professional.” He’s just doing this for massage reasons, right? With your consent, he slowly inches up your towel to uncover your bare ass to him, you clenching your thighs with the fact that he can see everything.

He then puts his hands on the fat of your ass, moving his hands in a circular motion that spreads your ass every time he moves in an outward rotation. Kento’s trying really hard to stay professional, but seeing your glistening wetness makes him groan inwardly. “Miss,” you perk up slightly as he refers to you, “I’ll continue with the deep tissue massage as requested, okay? There’s a spot that I believe really needs my attention.”

Innocently, you nod, and Kento can’t help but feel so aroused that you’re so naively believing him, letting him touch you as if it’s an appropriate part of his job. His hands inch closer and closer, and soon enough he’s fingering you while languidly licking you up.

“Does this feel good, miss?” Kento is out of breath as he nudges his nose deeper into your pussy while you’re squealing at the feeling of his fingers slamming into your g-spot, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he goes in, sucking at your clit just perfectly.

“It’s rude not to answer someone,” your masseuse gives you a slap, and quickly soothes it over. 

“‘M sorry!” you squeal, bucking your hips as soon as you feel like you’re getting closer, “It feels soo good.” With that, he pauses his ministration to give you a gentle kiss on your pussy, and the plush of his lips is enough to set you squirting, riding his face as you drench him in your juices. Safe to say, you were feeling very de-stressed.

GOJO SATORU ⸺ BEST FRIEND CATCHES HIM MASTURBATING, JOINS IN ON THE FUN!

Satoru groans, squeezing his ball at the base to avoid cumming prematurely. What he was originally doing was trying to find some porn to empty his balls to, releasing stress and gaining dopamine from masturbating. But eventually—like he’s been doing a lot these days—his fingers direct him to your Instagram profile. You, his best friend.

 Satoru does this in secret, waiting until he’s alone in his and Suguru’s apartment to go into his room, close the door, and sin by thinking of you in a way friends don’t of each other. So, he’s trying not to bust too early while he zooms in on your tits in the cute bikini picture you posted just last week, the ones he took of you. The pixels of your magnificent breasts zoom in, sweat and water glistening off of them as your bra hugs and makes them sit just right. He groans, throwing his head back as he feels his cockhead pulse again, deciding to end his edging to cum. 

In his focus on stroking his dick—the squelching and whines echoing in his room—he doesn’t notice the sound of the door opening. Nor of the footsteps heading towards his door, because he moves his hand up and down, up and down, up and down until he’s so close to cumm—-

“Satoru! I got us some mochi!” You yell loudly, and Satoru screams in return, albeit for a different reason. As your head whips up to look at him, alarmed at his shout, you register that his cock and balls are out. And that, in his left hand, is a photo of you. 

You blink, and Satoru blinks back, except with a red, throbbing length in his hand. Then, slowly, you ask, “Why is my picture open, Satoru?”

Satoru swallows, already hearing funeral bells and utters out, “I—I—that was a mistake. I meant to be on Pornhub. Haha! I mean,” he continues on rambling, “why would I be looking at your picture? Obviously, my hand slipped while I was jerking off I mean—” he cuts himself off, because in his yapping, he’s failed to notice how you’ve stalked over to his bed, now straddling him while spitting on his cock.

“Fuck,” he curses, as his pupils dilate watching the thicky, frothy mix of your spit ooze down from your pursed lips onto his dick. “W–what are you—” You motion for him to stand up, orienting yourself so that your throat was hanging off the bed and you were on your back on his mattress. 

“Since you’re so desperate,” you give him a deadly sweet smile as he stands, dick above your face. You give his tip a little kiss, and he shivers. “You can fuck my throat.”

Satoru definitely takes you up on that offer.

He can’t even believe that he’s here, you deepthroating his dick so nice. “Thank you, thank you,” he whines, gyrating his hips sloppily into the tight, wet heat of your mouth as your lips suckle on him. “Needed this so, so much.” You’ve even uncovered your tits, them bouncing nicely as Satoru continuously lodges himself in your throat. “Please, please let me cum.”

You gently push against his hips, indicating you want him out of your mouth. Raspily, you wipe the trail of spit that’s left your mouth and laugh meanly and give him a deceptively sweet kiss on his balls. “You have to last at least 10 more minutes, okay?”

And Satoru can do nothing but obey you, driving himself to the hinge of climax but never over, whimpering as your mouth swallows him up. 

GETO SUGURU ⸺ BIG DICKED BULLY FUCKS CUTE ANIME GIRL INTO SUBMISSION!

Your safe haven is your library. There, the man who’s been torturing you for most of your college career, Suguru Geto, doesn’t know where you hide, nor does he frequent the place. You’re focused in on your assignments right now, having fallen behind due to Suguru’s antics of bothering you and disturbing your peace to humiliate you across campus. It’s late at night, and there’s not a lot of people to disturb you. You thought.

You’re wrenched out of your state of focus as someone harshly pulls your chair back, grabbing your chin to meet your eyes with his. Your bully, Suguru.

 You gasp in surprise as he roves his eyes over you and what you’re wearing. A short skirt, one he dare wouldn’t admit made you look cute, and a sweater. Silently, he sits down while you tremble, looking at him with shaky eyes that makes his cock swell in his pants.

He smirks. “You thought you could hide from me?” He then ticks his head towards your textbook. “Whatcha reading? Recite it to me.” 

Even though you were confused as to why he would have you do that, you hurried to do as he said. Meanwhile, his siren eyes roved over your form, choosing to settle in between your thighs.

“Schroedinger’s theory had proved classical physicists wro—-“ You’re interrupted by your own gasp, because Suguru’s laid a hand that’s gently caressing your inner thigh.

“Go on,” he purrs, getting closer and closer to the heat of your pussy.

You swallow and go on. “…had proved classical physicists wrong, showing that unexplained phenomena in spectroscopy and atoms demonstrated discrete—-“

Meanwhile, he’s inched his hand inside of your panties, softly rubbing at your clit in a manner unbecoming of the mean Suguru you know. Before you know it, your orgasm was creeping up on you, and your legs were trembling while Suguru buried his face in your neck, giving you soft kisses. 

“Cmon, you slut,” he whispered, the softness of his voice contrasting with the harshness of his words, “are you too stupid to read?”

You whimper as he delves a finger into your hole, collecting the ooze there and going back to your clit. “…atoms demonstrated discrete properties, referred to as quanta—-“ It’s with a nasty lick to the shell or your ear that you’re cumming, squealing loudly as you cream on his fingers, humiliated at the show you were forced to put on in the library.

Suguru pulls his fingers out and sucks on them languidly, looking you in the eye. “Now slut, you’re going to do that seated on my dick. Got it?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n hiii pookies this was late sorry </3 but ANYWAYS im excited to write (and ride) cowboy geto and spiderman!gojo next! consider joining my kinktober taglist if you're interested <3 part 1 of this here btw

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :p

TAGLIST

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666

@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Serial Killer(s)

Your mother always warned you to never give rides to strangers, but the hitchhiker you run into seems harmless. What's the worst that can happen? Tags: implied noncon

Things originally start well. You and your buddies piled into your roommate's Jeep, roof down, pop music blasting. You're the driver - always the responsible one - hair tied back and sunglasses on the edge of your nose. You're all dressed for summer. Bikini tops and board shorts, smeared with sunscreen - the picture of college fun.

It starts well and keeps going even better. You're all in high spirits. Flushed and happy and young. Picking up the hitchhiker seems like a good idea. You see that he's handsome and around your age, that he's got an easy smile and a guitar on his back. You see that and nothing else. Not the too quick eyes, not the surprisingly light backback. Nothing.

He ends up riding shotgun, talking to you about classes and shitty professors. Smiling just a little every time you shift gears and your hand brushes his thigh.

You like him. You're the only single in the car so it's natural that he spends the most time talking to you. Lord knows it's hard to keep a conversation going with a couple when they look like they'd rather be tonsil deep in each other's throats.

You like him and you get the feeling he likes you too. When you stop at a sleazy motel for the night, he invites you to eat dinner with him outside his room. All your friends are off doing what couples do best - getting cosy in the hot tub, testing the speeds on the vibrating bed, finding new and interesting ways to use the ice machine. So you're glad for the company.

Mostly.

You're almost done eating when he pops the question.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

You look away from him. Take in the greasy boxes of takeout on the concrete, the neon red wash of the vacancy sign spelling across the parking lot. It's not an easy question. It brings up ugly memories.

"I used to have one. Things ended...badly. He's in Cook County Corrections now. Serving fifty to life."

He gives a low whistle.

"That bad huh? You ever go to see him?"

"No. Never."

He stretches out, folds his hands behind his head and looks up at the dull scattering of stars.

"You should. It gets lonely in there. A guy could use the pick me up, especially if the visitor is a pretty thing like you."

You shiver despite the balmy summer air.

"I'd rather not. I'll be happy to never see his face again."

Thankfully, he drops the subject. You go back to talking about awful first dates and the best dishes to order at a Chinese restaurant. He's a complete gentleman but you can't help the slight relief you feel when he stands to leave.

" 'Night gorgeous."

"Good night, stranger."

In the morning you walk out to see him reading the early paper. He crumples and tosses it before you can catch the headline.

" 'Morning. How did you sleep?"

You shrug. "Not the best. I swear these kinds of places all get their beds from the same supplier. Lumpy Mattresses Inc."

He grins. "Don't forget their trusty partner Damp and Musty Carpets LTD."

Your friends are slow to wake up and groggy when they do. Most of them nursing nasty hangovers. You and the hitchhiker have most of the morning to eat breakfast and shoot the breeze together. When it's time to leave, he takes his place in the passenger seat like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"I couldn't find any newspapers," one of your friends complains when you're back on the road.  

"I wanted to see the football results."

"Eagles beats the Rams in the final playoff," the hitchhiker says.

"Aww man. Where'd you get a paper from?"

"I must have gotten lucky. Staff is 'sposed to leave the local paper at reception. Guess they must not have the budget anymore."

You stay quiet but something doesn't feel quite right about that statement.

The day passes fast. Your playlist is a lot more mellow, on account of the many lingering headaches. Still, you think there's nothing quite as fine as the open road. It's only near evening when the trouble starts.

"Shit. I can't find our reservations."

You look at your friends in the rear view mirror. They've already pulled apart two backpacks trying to find the papers. You can't help feeling irritated. The one thing you asked them to take care of...

You pull over and search the Jeep from top to bottom. Unpack almost everything. Check and then recheck your pockets. Nothing.

"I'm really sorry y/n. On the phone they said we needed the copies to check in. Maybe we can still stop by and get it sorted with the front desk but..."

You can here the unspoken thought in their words. You're all thinking the same thing - that hotels can get so uptight when their potential guests are rowdy students with still bloodshot eyes. You worry at your nail, thinking. You paid the fees in advance so maybe if you showed them your credit card...

"My friend has a cabin not far from here," the hitchhiker says. "Pretty big place. He'd be happy to let us crash there for the night."

You bite your lip. It's a two hour drive to the hotel. And if they turn you away you'll be off the beaten path with almost no cash, on a near empty petrol tank.

"You think he'd mind letting us sleep on his couch?" you ask. "We'll be well-behaved and I can pay."

He smiles at you, totally easy going about the whole thing.

"Sure we'll just have to call ahead."

You manage to track down a payphone and you wait with the rest of your crew while he calls. You can't make out what he's saying but every once in a while his eyes drift to you. No one else. Just you.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was talking about you.

When he puts the receiver down, he's all smiles.

"Got it all sorted. It's out of the way though, so I reckon we grab some chow first."

Your friends are quick to agree. What self respecting kid on spring break is going to say no to fast food and cold beer? It's only you that lingers, brow furrowed. It all feels too convenient. Your reservations go missing and the stranger you picked up just happens to have a place nearby? No way. The more you think about, it the stranger it seems.

You're still lost in thought when the hitchhiker swings an arm around your shoulders and half drags you along behind your friends.

"What's you got you so worried gorgeous?"

It's hard to be suspicious of him when he smile so easy, his shaggy brown hair dancing across his forehead.

"Nothing. I just hate to intrude on your friend."

He laughs, squeezing your shoulders before letting go.

"Trust me he'll be very glad for the company. He doesn't get out much."

He pulls the diner door open for you. Your friends have already claimed a booth and a single harried waitress is struggling to jot down their long list of requests. The hitchhiker grabs your hand before you can join them.

"My friend is a great guy. I think you'll like him."

He smiles, crooked and amused, like he's laughing at a joke only he understands.

"Hell, I know for a fact that he'll like you. You're just his type."

Your smile is tight. The last guy who said you were just his type... well, you and the district attorney both know how that ended.

You take a seat and smile at the waitress. She looks beyond overwhelmed and you silently promise to tip her as well as your half drained credit card can manage.

"I'll take a steak. Rare. Bloody as you can make it," the hitchhiker says.

You raise your brows. Not exactly the typical order for an out of the way little diner. He sees your look and grins.

"Been a while without good meat. You have no idea the craving I've had this past few days."

The booth is packed tight and his thigh is flush against yours. Warm, even though his jeans.

"We all get cravings now and again. I get it."

He tilts his head at you and it must be a trick of the light, because his pupils are blown out wide. It looks like you're staring into oil. Just... emptier somehow. You wouldn't go so far as to say he feels soulless, but if it's not in the same street it sure as hell is in the same neighbourhood. Like oil, it leaves you feeling dirty in a way that doesn't easily scrub off.

"Do you?" he asks quietly.

You open your mouth to say something along the lines of I'm only human and of course I do but his eyes stop you. He isn't talking about food or meat. No. It feels like he's asking about flesh.

One of your friends cracks a joke and you turn away from him in a hurry, pretending to laugh at something you only half heard. You don't talk to him for the rest of the meal. Try to avoid looking him even. But you can't avoid the feel of his leg against yours. Warm and solid. Can't ignore the way your heart jumps when he reaches for his wallet and his fingers accidentally scrape you inner thigh.

You're the last one out of the diner. You throw away the dirty napkins and, true to your word, tip the waitress as well as you can manage. You're half afraid that he might wait for you, but when the door clicks shut behind you, you see him with the rest of your friends. Joking around with some of the boys.

The second you start towards them, his eyes fix on yours. You aren't sure how he does it - always narrowing in on you like you have your own gravitational pull. Like he's aware of your every move.

"Ready to go?"

Are you? You aren't sure. Some dull instinct is making you want to turn tail and run. You try and talk yourself out of it. What concrete evidence do you have? What has he done wrong, besides be a little intense? Folk do that all the time and it doesn't bother you. And it's not like you'll be alone. Your whole pack of friends will be right next to you.

"Yeah, let's go. Time doesn't wait for anyone."

It's a long drive. The highway splitting off into a main road and then splintering into a half-dozen country tracks. By the time you arrive, you're beyond grateful for choosing the Jeep. Heaven alone knows how much more jostling and bouncing your teeth could take.

It's a nice place. A big cabin out in a clearing, the trees thick for miles around. Much nicer than the crummy hotel you'd otherwise have to settle for. You can't even hear the traffic.

Your friends grab their bags and the hitchhiker holds the front door open as you all file in. The entryway is clean and bright, and besides the lingering tang of bleach, there's nothing to set your suspicions racing. Honestly, you feel a little silly for being so paranoid. Must be the bad memories. They make you jumpy regardless of actual circumstances.

"Where's your friend?"

You turn just in time to see the hitchhiker slipping something small and metallic into his pocket.

"Is that the key for the -"

"My friend will be here soon," he talks over you, loud enough to get everyone's attention. "I'll show you guys your rooms and once you get settled, we can grab some beers and hit the hot tub."

He brushes past you and ignores your half-hearted grab for his arm. Your friends are already pounding up the stairs, too hyped to notice your expression. He pauses on the landing and looks back at you - the only one still standing by the door. His eyes are bright and almost hard.

"You coming?"

Nothing to be scared of, right? It's a common habit to lock the front door, especially out in the woods.

"Yep. Right behind you."

But no matter what you tell yourself, your feet still drag along when you follow him deeper into the cabin. Further and further from escape.

You're the only one who gets a room of their own. Everyone else is piled two and three deep in the guest rooms, half your buddies on couches more than beds.

You're also the last to get a room, so by the time he shows you your bed, it's only you and him. You wonder if he planned it on purpose.

"Quiet out here."

He hums in agreement, standing at your window and watching the woods. He stays silent while you unpack. Whatever he's watching for takes all his attention.

It's only when you hear your friends start splashing around in the hot tub that he speaks.

"You should probably take a shower before anyone else. The water is unreliable out here."

You silently agree. It's s been a long day, and while a quick dip in the jacuzzi sounds good, a hot shower and a cool bed sound even better. He pauses at your bedroom door to say good night. You're already heading to the bathroom and you only half hear the rest of his sentence.

"Sleep tight. And don't worry too much about any noises you hear. There's mountain lions around and the sound carries funny sometimes."

He closes your door softly behind him. Your en-suite is echoey, and when you turn on the water, you don't hear the quiet click of him locking you in.

After your shower, you're totally exhausted. You don't even bother leaving your room to check on your friends. You just curl up under your borrowed duvet and drift off. When you half wake at three in the morning to the dying echo of a scream, you mutter something about mountain lions and fall right back to sleep.

You don't see it but the figure in the corner of your room smiles. Moonlight catching for a split second on the butcher's knife in his hand.

"You always were a deep sleeper, baby. Can never remember your dreams."

Morning comes fast after that. When you wake, the only evidence of your midnight visitor is a slightly misplaced pair of sneakers that you're too drowsy to notice.

Your room door opens easily and you're half way down the stairs before you even start to wonder where your friends are.

Still sleeping probably. Had a late night.

The only sign that someone else is awake is a half empty pot of coffee and a dirty mug in the sink. You don't really feel comfortable rooting around in someone else's kitchen, but the hitchhiker did say to help yourself... You end up snatching a small Greek yogurt from the fridge and taking it out to the porch.

The forest is alive with bird song, dew still melting in the grass. It's peaceful. Tranquil. For the first time, you're entirely happy that you accepted the hitchhiker's offer.

The only thing that disrupts the picture perfect scene is a single discarded sneaker, thick with mud and left right in the middle of the yard.

You sigh. Did one of your friends really lose a whole shoe and not notice? You pick it up and knock the worst of the mud off.

So much for being well-behaved. You'll have to check over the whole place before you leave, make sure they haven't somehow tanked to the property value. The edges of the laces are stained a rusty red but you chalk it up to spilled wine or something.

You drop the shoe at the door and make your way back into the kitchen. It takes some searching but you finally find the dustbin, half hidden in a cupboard. Ugh, why do rich people always have to hide the trash away in the most obscure places?

Yesterday's paper is shoved under some tea bags, the edges of the front page barely visible.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY

You frown, you gut suddenly nauseous and rolling. You dig the newspaper out of the trash. Slowly. Hesitantly. Amost afraid that the reality will be twice as bad as your suspicions. There's a massive stain on the front but you can still read the print clearly.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY CORRECTIONS. MANHUNT UNDERWAY.

You don't bother to read the article. The pictures alone tell you everything. You feel sick enough to faint.

You didn't think you'd ever see his face again, but here it is. Mugshot slightly blurry and the ink starting to run. Scowling at the camera like he's more pissed at being caught than anything else.

Your ex boyfriend.

You might have been fine if it was just him. Might have called the DA and the lead homicide detective, begged for witness protection. But trouble never visits without company. There's another mugshot under his, this one captioned Serial Arsonist & Convicted Killer.

The hitchhiker wasn't smiling when the cops lined him up for his red carpet shoot. His eyes are as black and empty in his mugshot as they were last night. When he looked at you and said he was craving meat. Meat.

You might have laughed if you didn't think you were about to vomit. Yeah, he was probably craving meat alright. The roasted and still screaming kind.

You drop the newspaper, hands shaking so bad you can't hold onto it even if you wanted to.

"I told him to take out the trash. But does he listen?"

You whirl around. The hitchhiker is blocking the back door and holding your friend's lost sneaker, rolling the stained laces between his fingers.

"Thanks for grabbing this, gorgeous. If we missed it, the pigs would be back on our asses in no time."

You run.

You don't bother hearing him out or rationalising. You turn away from him and bolt straight for the front door.

You almost make it.

Your fingers just brush the metal of the doorknob before someone grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you towards them, hard enough that you end up on your back. Winded. Your scalp burning.

"Gonna leave without even saying hello? C'mon baby, is that how you greet your man?"

Your boyfriend is standing above you, smirking like this is all a game. He's still in his prison jumpsuit, the sleeves knotted around his waist. He's wearing a white tank and one glance is enough to tell you that prison has been great for his gym journey. His muscles - always toned to begin with - are positively huge.

He's always been strong, but the sight of him like this has your heart racing. How much harder can he hit, with all that extra bulk to back him up?

He slams you back onto the floor when you move to get up, his boot pressing into your sternum so hard you can almost hear your bones creaking.

"Aww, don't get up baby. Let's just talk. We've got so much to catch up on."

He presses his heel into you. Hard enough that you can't breathe out it hurting.

"Where to start... Oh, I know! Have you fucked anyone else while I've been gone? Gotten yourself a new man? Who's been between your legs while I've. Been. Rotting. Away?"

He punctuates his sentence with sharp jabs of his boot.

"No one," you managed to choke out. "Didn't have anybody."

He takes his boot off your chest and you suck in a painful breath, your lungs and ribs on fire. You roll onto you hands and knees, coughing.

Shit. Fuck.

He squats down so he's level with you, voice a sickly sweet drawl.

"You promise?"

"I-" Another painful coughing fit. "I swear. No one else."

"I don't know if I can believe you, baby. You said you loved me, and then you ratted on me to the cops. Not the best record."

He grabs your hair and hauls you to your feet, totally unbothered that you still can't breathe right.

You shriek and try to pull away, only for him to wrap a hand around your throat and pin you against his chest.

He squeezes hard enough that your larynx feels like it's going to collapse.

"What do you think I should do?"

You think he's asking you, but it's the hitchhiker that answers. He's leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed like he's watching two kittens at play rather than seeing your boyfriend almost choke the life out of you.

"I reckon we should check. Her cunt should be all tight and wet after months without cock. And if it isn't...well, there's your answer."

"You hear that baby? We're gonna make sure you've been well behaved."

We?

You start fighting all the harder. One murderer is enough. You don't want both their hands on you. You'll never be able to scrub yourself clean again.

The hitchhiker smirks and pushes himself away from the wall. His pupils are all wide again, twin blackholes hungry enough to swallow you, your friends, the whole damn world.

Adrenaline is a hell of a thing but you're up against two convicted killers who've had nothing but time to get stronger. Who've had the world's hardest lessons in cruelty.

Your boyfriend lets go of your hair and grabs one flailing wrist. He bends your arm up your back until you heads tucked under his chin and you're standing on your tiptoes to alleviate the pressure.

The hitchhiker twists one ankle behind yours so you can't kick out of him. It feels like a move cops and wardens might use. He must have had it done to him plenty, if he can so easily put you in the same position.

"I'll scream."

That makes them laugh.

"Go on then gorgeous. Scream. No one heard your friends last night. What makes you think they'll hear you?"

Your friends... You were panicking so bad you hadn't even considered them. The hitchhiker sees your eyes go wide and grins that easy, friendly grin of his. The one that made you trust him enough to give him a ride.

"Oh, we took good care of them. I'll spare you the grisly details but there's no one left out here but us."

It's too awful to consider. Too visceral. Too unreal. Your mind blocks it out and changes your whole train of thought to focus on escaping.

You focus on your boyfriend. He isn't acting like himself. The same man who put his hand on the bible and swore before the court that he killed all those people because of you - that man - was suddenly willing to share? Was inviting someone else to enjoy your body?

"You're going to let him touch me? You killed my lab partner because you said he would jerk off to pictures of me. What the hell changed?"

Your boyfriend hums.

"A whole lot. He's my cellmate."

Like that explains anything!

The hitchhiker slips his fingers under the hem of your top, nails running along your waistband.

"He wouldn't shut up about you. Had your pictures pinned up above his bed and everything. It was so fucking annoying at first. My girl this, my baby that. But after a few months..."

He pops open the button of your jeans with a flick of his thumb. You jerk away but your boyfriend twists your arm even harder and you're forced to hold still.

"After a few months, I started to understand the appeal. Could see why he was so into you. And hell, I wanted a taste myself. Wanted to see if you lived up to the hype."

Your boyfriend is smiling. You can tell from his voice.

"And is she worth all the hard work we put in?"

The hitchhiker's hands are cold. You flinch when he slips his fingers past your panties. He rubs his thumb against your slit, savouring every inch.

"For her? I'd kill twice as many as we did last night."

He sighs as he feels your slick starting to collect around his knuckles. Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you. Cold, uncomfortably cold.

He has a guitarist's hands and you can feel the callouses on his fingertips scraping against your walls. Too rough. Too much.

"Just like I thought. Tight and wet. Your girls loyal to a fault."

Your boyfriend practically purrs.

"Been so good while I was gone, baby. You deserve a reward, dontcha?"

He leans down and nips your cheek. You feel sick. His teeth so close...

"Don't worry. We'll fill you up so good that you'll never try running again."

Your spring break road trip starts well and gets better. But the end? Well, it ends with a cock down your throat in and another in your cunt. It ends with a hand around your neck and teeth marks on your thighs. It ends with a reminder to always trust your instincts and to never, ever give rides to strangers.

[criminalamnesia]

Stay

warnings: enemies to friends, hinted enemies to lovers, Tyler’s sister!reader, mean!scott, bickering, very real tornado danger, mentions of a car crash and physical injuries, not proofread, f!reader

summary: the three time you see storm par’s one and only scott, including the one in which he saves your life.

author’s note: look at me, finally writing something again! I’ve been extremely busy and, truthfully, in a writers slump. I started writing this after seeing twisters, and I just got the motivation to come back and finish it. I’ve been obsessed with this man since that movie, and good lord do we need more fics of him. anyways, enjoy! (also, for my traitor fans— I haven’t forgotten about you! I hope to work on the next part soon!)

the first time you’d seen scott, you’d wanted to break his jaw, and you hadn't even gotten his name.

“get lost on the way to the hillbilly convention?”

his tone is snarky, his eyes full of disdain as he watched you slide out of tyler’s truck.

your eyes had widened, your spine straightening as you registered his unprovoked hostility.

��the fuck is your problem?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you come back to your senses. you look him up and down, huffing a laugh at his clothes.

“you look like you’re going to a fuckin’ business meeting.” you say, coming to a stop in front of him. your cowboy boots dig into the dirt, and the sun beats down on your face.

perfect day for storm chasing, as your brother had said. darkening clouds rolled in the distance, and the wind was steadily picking up. according to lilly's drone data and tyler's instincts, your first chase would occur sometime within the next few hours.

you had been away at college when tyler’s tornado-chasing YouTube channel took off. you’d always loved the thrill of being close to the storms, but even when you came home to visit during summers, tyler refused to let you tag along.

until now, that is. now that you’ve graduated with a degree in meteorology, just like him. he had always accused you of wanting to follow in his footsteps.

“don’t mind storm par over there,” comes your brother’s drawl as he appears beside you, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. “the stick up his ass seems to have been lodged a little deeper recently. you’ll get used to it,” tyler grins, barking a laugh at the brunette's scowl.

"haven't seen you before," another man moves to stand beside the brunette. he's also wearing storm par gear, and you watch as him and the taller man share an unreadable glance.

"she's new," tyler responds for you, his wide grin still present as he acknowledges the shorter man with the tip of his hat.

"i'd run while you can, sweetheart," the taller one says, a look of pity in his eyes as he looks back to you. "fucking him isn't worth dying over."

you stare at the man for a moment before bursting into laughter. the storm par pair's eyes both widen, their stares moving from your hysterics, to tyler's rolled eyes, and then to each other.

"you two are supposed to be scientists, huh? the guys who are gonna 'tame tornadoes?'" you throw the last two words in air quotes as your laughter subsides.

the shorter of the two men nods, while the taller opens his mouth once more. "that's right. while you morons are out trying to get yourselves killed, we'll be busy doing shit that actually matters."

"right, right," you nod along, glee shining in your eyes as you stare at the taller one. "you must be so smart, then. where'd you get your degree?"

"MIT," he says smugly, popping the gum in his mouth.

"MIT, wow," you whistle, your eyes finding your brother's. tyler just shakes his head, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

"you got a degree from MIT, and you're too stupid to tell that he-" you jab a finger towards tyler. "is my fucking brother?"

the man's smug grin instantly falls as his eyes scan you, then tyler, and then fall back onto you. tyler steps forward, smacking a hand on the man's shoulder with a laugh.

"meet my little sister, storm par. may not have gotten a degree from MIT," he says, tipping his cowboy hat to you. you mime tipping an invisible hat back at him. "but she seems to be a hell of a lot smarter than you."

the second time you see scott, you still don't learn his name.

"jesus christ, this thing is huge!" you yelp as tyler swerves the truck back onto the dirt road. he scowls as the storm par truck ahead of him jerks back and forth on the path, blocking his approach.

"how's the wind lookin'?" he asks, his words clipped as his hands grip the wheel tighter. wheat fields ripple on both sides of the road, an ocean of tan as the sky continues to darken.

"pickin' back up," you tell him, glancing down at the laptop in your lap. it was displaying real-time data of the atmospheric conditions. the software had cost a pretty penny, but had been worth it. plus, it had been more than covered by tyler's t-shirt sales. cheesy or not, tyler’s face on a shirt was worth his weight in gold to his followers.

tyler groans as the white truck in front of him cuts him off again.

"ty, just go around!" you yell at him, your eyes widening as you stare out of the passenger side window. the clouds overhead were beginning to swirl.

"i'm tryin' to drive nice," he tells you through gritted teeth. "don't wanna make you sick-" he begins, but you roll your eyes and reach over, jerking the wheel. the car swerves off the road and into the ditch beside it, and tyler scrambles to avoid hitting a wire fence as he swats at your hand.

"what the fuck?!" he yells at you, his eyes cutting to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"stop tryin' to baby me!" you tell him. "show these storm par pricks what we're made of."

tyler falls silent, clearly debating his next move. you're about to grab the wheel again when his foot slams down on the gas and the truck lurches forward. you cheer, throwing a fist in the air as you laugh with glee.

"just don't tell mom!" he says to you, laughing along.

as the truck speeds forwards, tyler lets off the gas just enough to keep speed with the storm par truck. you lean past him to get a look into the cab, and there's the brunette you'd had the displeasure of meeting a few days ago.

you can see his scowl from here, and your grin is wide as you hold your middle finger up, waving it around to make sure he couldn't miss it. his scowl deepens, and before he can even think of responding to the gesture, tyler hits the gas again.

"what was that for?" your brother asks as you lean back into you seat.

you shrug. "just havin' fun."

the third time you see scott, he saves your life.

it's a week after the middle-finger incident. although storm par and your brother's wranglers have been following the same storms, you haven't had the pleasure of bothering the tall brunette, much less seeing him. you’d caught glimpses, but he seemed to be keeping his distance. you supposed he’d finally grown tired of your constant teasing.

you don't know why you find yourself caring. he's an asshole. an asshole who hates you, your brother, and everything the two of you stand for. who constantly underestimates and looks down on you.

and yet you miss his scowl and the unmistakable pop of his bubblegum.

"hey, you okay over there?" boone asks as he leans over the center console, his head peeking out between the two front seats. you know the question is directed at you, as boone is watching you like a hawk.

"yeah, fine," you shrug, your eyebrows furrowed as you lean down, getting closer to the screen of your laptop.

"ty, turn the music down for a sec," you tell him, and he listens without protest. a rare occurrence, but now wasn't the time for bickering.

what had first appeared to be a measly EF1 had begun to grow. it wasn't dying out, and things were starting to get scarily real as moisture kept feeding into the funnel miles ahead of you.

"this thing isn't stopping," you tell the two men. "you need to tell the rv to turn around. hell, we should turn around."

boone shakes his head, leaning further into your space. his eyes scan your computer screen, and although he's learned a lot from tyler, he still doesn't see what you see.

"nah, it's gonna be fine. ty said it's gonna die out anyways, right? we just need to get in it before it does."

"boone," you warn, turning in your seat to face him. "love you, but shut the fuck up right now." you reach out a hand and grip tyler's arm.

"ty, I mean it."

rain starts pelting the windshield. you can hear the wind howling outside of the truck, and you shudder as hail begins to pound against metal.

tyler mumbles something under his breath as he kicks the windshield wipers up to maximum speed. "you sure?" he finally says.

he turns to look at you as you nod, and those precious seconds are all it takes for the world to spin on its axis.

a fence post slams through the windshield as rain and hail continue to obscure the world around you. you scream and tyler jerks the wheel out of instinct. the truck turns sharply, running off the road. your stomach drops as the truck drops and rises again- your own personal rollercoaster from hell.

"tyler!" you yell, gripping the straps of the harness holding you in.

"workin' on it!" he responds, jerking the wheel the other way. the truck rights itself back on the road, and you close your eyes as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

fuck, the others-

"boone, tell the others to turn around now!" you yell at him, and he's nodding frantically from his seat in the back, his hands fumbling for the walkie talkie in the floor.

"so much for an EF1!" tyler says, and although his tone sounds easy, his face betrays him. you can see the glimpse of fear in his eyes. it mirrors your own.

"yeah, ri-" you begin, but the sentence never fully forms.

you black out as another car slams into the passenger side of the truck.

"c'mon, get up!"

everything feels fuzzy. your head is pounding, and your ears are ringing. pain shoots through your body, engulfing every inch of skin. you think something has to be broken, judging from the numbness you feel on the right side of your body.

"get up!"

your eyes begin to crack open, but your vision is blurry. someone is a few feet in front of you, but you can't make out who it is.

"for fuck's sake-" the voice growls, and you can just hear the faint crunching of glass before your hearing comes back in full force.

the wind is an unbearable howl, and the rain and hail pounding down around you make hearing your own thoughts almost impossible-

your thoughts. what had happened? one second, you're driving and then-

fuck. tyler. boone. where were they?

your eyes shoot open, your body jerking against the harness still keeping you strapped to the leather passenger seat.

you look to your left- to the driver's side- but tyler isn't there. you try to turn you head to see into the back, but a sharp pain in your neck quickly stops you.

"tyler?!" you yell, but your voice is carried off by the wind. you can't even hear your own words.

"boone?!"

"they're fine!" a voice calls to you, and your gaze shoots back to the driver's side. you can see a man crouching by the driver's now blown-out window— which is upside down.

you were upside down. the truck had rolled with the impact of whatever had hit you. everything comes back with devastating clarity, and even though adrenaline pumps through your veins, the pain is beginning to become unbearable.

“can you move?” the voice says. you can’t tell who it is through the spots in your vision and the sheets of rain still coming down.

“I-” you start, pushing your chest against the harness. “I think so.”

“good,” you recognize it as a man’s voice. “then hurry the fuck up and get out!”

under different circumstances, you would’ve scoffed at the order, but now wasn’t the time for defiance. your life was literally on the line, and if you didn’t get to shelter before the tornado engulfed you—

well, you didn’t want to think about that.

you force your brain to gather itself, directing your thoughts toward moving your aching limbs. your left arm is the only one that responds, coming to fumble with the metal buckles of the harness.

the first one unclasps and you swear you could cry from relief.

“any day now!” the man calls, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. you reach your left hand across your torso, working at the clasp on your right side.

“im trying!” you call back. once you get it undone, your arms fall downward as gravity claims them. you groan in pain as your right arm shifts. something is definitely broken, but you can’t afford to give into the pain at the moment.

you reach for the lap belt, tugging at it with a shaking hand. the wind continues to howl around you, and you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. hopelessness begins to eat away at you as you try and try again to undo the lap belt, to no avail.

“it’s stuck!” you call out, hoping the man can hear you. “I can’t get out!”

your breathing is picking up. your chest feels tight, and the feeling you still have in your left hand ebbs as you begin to panic.

you don’t want to die. you know that. it scares you shitless.

but you don’t want anyone else to die, either.

you’re stuck. whoever is outside of the truck isn’t. he should run while he can—

“hold on!” you’re jarred from your thoughts as a figure begins to crawl through the hole left by the blown-out window, and that’s when you register your savior.

it’s him, the brunette from storm par. the man who belittled you, who rolled his eyes at every sentence you spoke, and who you somehow found yourself missing.

he’s crawling into the cab, his arms no doubt suffering cuts from the shattered glass littering his path. “I’ve got you,” he calls to you, and when your eyes meet his, there’s no look of disdain. there’s thinly veiled terror.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him, and you can’t tell if the wetness on your face is from your tears or the rain that’s now blowing sideways into the destroyed truck.

“shut the fuck up,” he tells you, groaning as he slices his forearm on a jagged piece of metal.

“im serious,” you reply, your left hand still fumbling with the belt restraining you. “I can’t feel my right side—”

“will you shut up? please?” he heaves out, his face inches from yours now as he reaches for the lap belt.

you fall silent, but not because you’re heeding his demands. no, you’re too busy examining his face. he’s never been this close to you, and you’re taking in every little detail before death comes to sweep you up.

can’t blame a girl for wanting to gawk at a handsome man in her final minutes, can you?

“stop staring at me,” he grits out, his forearm flexing as he tugs at the lap belt. something has the fabric trapped, and although he’s freeing it inch by inch, you’re not sure if—

the belt gives, and his arms leave your lap to cushion your fall, protecting your head from slamming into the metal below you.

he doesn’t say anything, but you watch as his gaze flits over your right side. stone cold as ever, his expression gives nothing away regarding your physical state. you can’t bring yourself to look down.

“im gonna pull you out, okay?” he says, and you absently nod your head. the pain is heavier now— harder to push away. your vision swims as he hooks his arms under yours and shuffles back on his knees.

agony spreads through your thoughts as the numbness gives way to excruciating pain. your eyelids flutter, but the man doesn’t stop. he grunts as he pulls you forward again, slowly but surely removing you from the truck.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him again, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to stifle a scream of pain. “im not going to be able to walk. I’ll just slow you down—”

“jesus christ, you don’t listen, do you? im not leaving you here to die.”

he finally makes his way out of the wreckage, pulling you with him. once you’re free of the ruined truck, he stands on shaky legs— fighting to maintain balance as the wind whips across his figure. he reaches down, scooping you up in his bloody arms, and starts to run as best he can. the rain is so thick you can’t even see a foot in front of you, let alone where he’s taking you.

lightning cracks overhead, followed by thunder so loud it shakes your shattered bones. your head tilts up to the sky, and you watch in horror at what was once an EF1 tornado races toward you. it’s got to be an EF4 by now— maybe even a 5 based off its sheer size.

“drop me!” you screech, your working hand clutching the soaked fabric of his storm par shirt.

if he hears you, he pays you no mind as he continues to struggle against the wind.

with your eyes focused on the impending doom behind you, you don’t even realize when he reaches his destination. he jumps down into a deep ditch, and you hear him groan as his feet hit the ground. he must be hurt, too.

“is she alright?” a voice calls, and your eyes widen as boone comes into view, a large cut across his forehead that looks like it definitely needs stitches.

“not the time!” the storm par man shouts, ducking behind your friend. your eyes catch boone’s over his shoulder, and you give your fellow storm chaser a weak wink. boone’s lips crack into a wide smile, even amidst this horrible storm.

the brunette carrying you falls to his knees, laying your back against muddied dirt. he refuses to let you go, his arms cradling you against his chest as he shelters you with his own body. there’s nothing to hold onto except for him, and you know if the tornado gets any closer, you’ll both be goners.

you close your eyes tightly, welcoming your end despite your overwhelming fear— but it never comes.

you pry your eyes open as the sounds of wind and rain finally begin to subside. the body above yours still clutches you tightly.

“are we alive?” your voice comes out a whisper. your left hand flexes against the man’s chest, and sure enough, it meets a solid body. he’s not an imagination— he’s real. you’re still here.

“yes,” his chest rumbles with the words, and his arms slowly snake out from under you as he sits back on his haunches. his eyes are locked on yours, his icy blues unreadable as he watches your face.

you don’t say anything for a moment. and then,

“you’re the stupidest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

his eyes widen in surprise, and his stern facade cracks for the first time— at least, that you’ve seen— and he chuckles.

the bubble surrounding you two quickly pops as tyler’s voice meets your ears. you turn your head and there he is— your brother, running towards you with relief written all over his face.

“oh, thank god,” he says, throwing himself to his knees and scooping you up in a hug. you hiss in pain and he pulls back, his hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down with a grimace.

“you took the worst of it. those storm par pricks—” his eyes cut to your savior, who is still sitting nearby, watching the two of you. “hit us. you and boone were knocked out, and you were stuck, so I got him first and was coming back, but—”

“ty,” you interrupt, your left hand landing atop one of his. “it’s okay. im okay. we’re okay.”

tyler takes a deep breath and nods, his eyes flitting back down your body, focusing on your right leg. you follow his gaze, grimacing at the unnatural twist of the limb. no wonder it had gone numb.

“I’ve had worse,” you tell him, taking notice of your limp, lacerated right arm.

“now’s not the time to play hero,” your brother chastises, standing up before reaching down and picking you up. your eyes meet your savior’s once more. he’s standing now, too, his arms crossed over his chest as he matches your gaze.

“guess we owe you a thanks, clipboard. and you owe us a new truck.” tyler says, to which the brunette rolls his eyes.

“ty,” you roll your eyes, too, as you keep your gaze locked with the brunette’s. “ignore my brother. thank you for saving my life….” you trail off, realizing, truly realizing for the first time that you don’t know his name.

“scott.” he tells you. you nod.

“thank you, scott.”

he nods back, turning his back to you as he starts to limp back to the road your vehicles had been abandoned at. you doubted they would still be there.

just as you’re about to look away from his retreating form, he glances over his shoulder and gives you a true, sweetly small, smile.

maybe storm par isn’t so bad after all.

[ozarkthedog]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭

summary: joel fucks you over the kitchen sink.

warnings: 18+ smut. best friends dad!joel x afab!reader. alt universe. unspecified age gap. secret relationship. soft dom!joel. cream pie. w.c. 529

author's note: writing has been difficult lately so i'm trying to write little pieces like this randomly to help get the creativity flowing again. so i apologize if this isn't my best. *runs off into the night*

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

"You better keep those hands on the counter if you want to come," Joel's lips brush your ear with the soft threat. Large, worn hands smother your own against the cool marble, keeping you still yet pliable.

You anxiously peer through the kitchen window.

It's been 10 minutes or so since you left. You made up a white lie about a headache to your friends, excusing yourself from the splashing chaos in the pool, only to find yourself in the arms of your friend's dad, Joel.

It started off innocently with wandering eyes and cheeky comments, which turned into brazen touches and stolen kisses over the last few months. Eventually, you ended up in Joel's bed one lonely night after a rough breakup. You sought solace from your friend, but Joel was the one who answered the door when she wasn't home.

Worry tugs at your nerves, bottom lip pinched hard between your teeth. You silently pray your friends won't realize you're missing and come searching. You wouldn't be able to face them if they saw you bent over the counter taking their friend's dad's cock.

"Where'd you go, sweet girl?" his thumb brushes your lip, pulling it softly from between your teeth. You kiss the warm pad before he pushes it into your mouth, letting you suckle on the digit.

"Stay righ' with me." He murmurs, pressing his broad front against your spine and trapping your body to the counter's edge. "Don' need to be thinkin' 'bout anythin' else 'cept takin' my cock."

Your breath hitches as he grinds his length deeper, nudging his weeping crown at the end of you, forming you around him like a leather glove.

"What if someone sees." You blurt, frantically clutching his wrist when one of your friends looks toward the kitchen window. Thankfully, the sun blinds her view just as Joel flips the two of you out of sight.

A steady arm locks around your waist, keeping you pinned on his thick cock while you're left at his mercy. He uses the support of the counter against his lower back to keep you propped and open for him.

"What'd I say 'bout thinkin', huh?" he snaps his hips, driving his girth between your drenched folds, ruthlessly accentuating his words with each thrust. "Nothin'. But. My. Cock."

A brute hand curls under your jaw and tips your head against his shoulder. His grey whiskers scratch your cheek. "Can feel her creamin' on me, ya know." He grits, tightening his hold on your jaw as your cunt swirls around his girth. "Why you fightin' it? We both know you're exactly where ya want to be, sweet girl."

Your eyes press tight as a wave of untamed arousal shoots from your cunt straight into your brain. Joel smacks his hand over your mouth, barely muting your sounds of carnal bliss as you tumble over the edge, body quivering and writhing in his hold.

"Tha's my good girl." Joel huskily praises. Your fingers dig into his forearm as he picks up speed. He grunts like a wild animal, uncaged and dirty, feverishly fucking into your soaked heat until his cum is dripping down your thighs.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[iqxatlantic]

    " POUND, POUND, POUND TOWN ! "

ft. shidou ryusei . afab! reader . reader was off alcohol and then shidou pulled up smh . smut . dark content . non/dub-con (if ur uncomfortable pls click off!) . alcohol usage . shidous a freak its shidou... . HE'S HUNG . frat party yeahhhh . college/uni au! . they freak each other in order to get over someone else . cursing wowza . cunnilingus ? . unreliable narrator ...

cw: non/dub-con (?) bc they were drunk. (damn both drunk thats acc crazy) alcohol is constantly mentioned within this fic

wc: 1.3k

synopsis : getting drunk with your annoying classmate (also school whore) ended up into an intimate situation..!

the blaring, colourful bright lights was driving you absolutely insane. your classmates annoying ass voice wouldn't help your ragin' headache calm down —i'll tell ya that much.

"c'mon sugar! just give alcohol a second chance," shidou smirked. waving the glasses in your face to taunt you. "fuck off, ryu. don't push it. jus' cause we made out doesn't mean i'm getting back into that shit." you grumbled.

"we're at a party, c'mon... give it another chance yeaa?" he continued to press you. wanting him to shut the fuck up you finally agreed. "fine just one bottle." you rolled your eyes.

you swore you saw his eyes sparkle when you finally agreed. "hell yeah, [name]. i knew you weren't borin' like that!" he grinned mischievously as he passed you two bottles.

you cautiously popped open the bottle cap of the tequila. hesitantly placing your lips on the bottle and you gave it a quick chug. you peeled your lips off the bottle as liquor as you wiped your mouth.

"off that tequila again hm, mamacita?" he laughed, teasingly. you felt your body fill with disgust. oh you absolutely hated this man's guts. you passed the bottle to him. he took a longer chug. letting out a content sigh.

"don't cha feel all your stress being relieved?" shidou smiled. you didn't reply, just taking another gulp. the bottle was passed between the both of you until it was empty.

shidou stuck out his tongue trying to get the last drop (Freaky ahh.) "ya down for more?" he asked. you were a little tipsy so you just agreed.

the both of you were wasted by then. expecting a deep conversation with shidou cause he's drunk? hell nah! he's fuckin' making out with you for the second time! a lil more passionate however...

he reeked and tasted like alcohol, a nostalgic sense you hated so much. that didn't stop you, however. the both of you kept going, so damn messy...

it felt euphoric, his MOUTH was euphoric. you swore no man could do it better than your ex (who also made u drink girl what r u on..) here you are. "ryu.." you gasped as you pushed him slightly.

oh this was wrong, so so so SO wrong... you vowed to yourself there would be no one who'd ever have you so vulnerable. yet, here you are. the pink eyed man wasted no time painting your collar bone with his saliva. how messy.

"y'know you're real cute, [name]." shidou breathed against your sensitive skin. "real fuckin' cute." oh jeez... what would your friends say when they catch you with one of the whores in the whole university..?

"quit thinkin' 'bout what ya friends' gotta say, think about the moment, think 'bout me." he mumbled almost desperately, to then suck on your skin. this man? desperate? no way...

biting, sucking, you name it, this guy'll do it. "y'know [name], i have a huge... huge crush on you." shidou babbled (where'd your pride go brah.) "i always wanted to do this."

being under the influence of alcohol, you were too drunk to realize what was going on LMFAO. his words went from one ear to another. your body was red and heated, cooling down a bit as he stripped you.

"ooh hell yeah!" he let out an excited whine. he unbuckled his pants and slipped it down with haste. "y'know a bitch like you, you're hella hot, [name]." shidou smirked. if it wasn't cause you felt like jelly, you would've BITCHSLAPPED him. (no bc who tf says that)

despite being everything but a gentleman, shidou did the one thing the guys you've had a relationship with or the guys you've slept around with didn't. asking you if he could put it in LMFAOO.

sliding your panties to the side, "[name], gonna put it in. prepare yourself." he breathed. due to your blurry vision, you didn't know how big he was. that is, until you felt something foreign stretching your opening. oh dear...

"r-ryusei!" you'd whine out. "it's jus' the tip, babe. can't take it? deal with it." shidou grinned, pushing himself in. in a way, shidou wasn't an asshole. well not yet. he hadn't forcefully put his whole length in you. like every other guy... (oh girl, if any guy does that RUN?!)

"damn, you're taking me so well." he mumbled, shocked. "for a whore like you i didn't expect you to be this tight n grippy." oh my days this man is a NASTY FREAK.

the audacity to call you a whore.?! "tough comin' from a man who acts like he's a bitch in heat every morning. whole world hears your sexual fantasies." you'd retort.

shidou frowned, "ahh, sugar don' be like that!" and with that a sudden thrust. nevermind! he's the same as every guy. each thrust had you ECSTATIC. it felt like doing weed all over again.

just the smell isn't the disgusting burning of marijuana, it was the smell of sweat and sex (eeyuck?!) shidou felt himself slowly reaching hish high. he swiftly pulled out and pulled your panties off.

he placed his tip onto your panties and began pumping. sooner or later, yeah no who am i kidding, he busted the moment his tip touched your panties. he came so damn much, "i feel like a virgin all over again! t' think i jack it everyday..."

you looked at him shook. "everyday and still that much nut?!" you'd mumbled. that is until you felt a quickly cooling sensation on your precious pussy. no fucking way this man just slid your panties back on, WITH HIS NUT.?!

shidou pressed his fingers against your opening, pushing his semen in. (what in the kinky shit man.!) "hey, doll. put this on." shidou whispered as he gave you his blazer. "guess you're not that bad as a guy after all huh? rated top-3 worst gentlemen of the scho-" you were cut off as you realized why. he did NOT want anyone else's eyes on you (honestly, mood af)

your vision began to blur. maybe you were too intoxicated that you gosh darn passed out immediately after! your memory a straight up fog. just to wake up to shidou lapping away at your pussy and an unfamiliar dorm.

"ryusei what the heee-oh god!" you yelped as his mouth went crazy on your labia. this man is a damned animal. at this point, he was DEVOURING your vulva.

you were somewhat sober, pulling at his hair. (woah un-gelled shidou hair hawk yeah!) "ryusei you gotta stop!" you babbled. "please, my friends are gona-!" your babbles were quickly changed to moans as he went ballistic on your sweet pussy.

"ryusei please! please! stop!" you sobbed. damn, never in your life did you have a man eat you out THIS good you're in tears! the moment he prodded his finger in you lost it.

bucking your hips forward, you came undone. shidou being the little freak he is lapped away so rapidly the moment your juices came out LOL. he pulled away, licking his lips.

your cunt was so soaked, messy as well :( messy with his saliva and your juices. shidou had his shit eating grin. "best pussy i've ever tasted." he smirked.

what a turn off... you glared at him. "heeeey, can't ya at least be a little nicer? i'm the only one whose made you feel this good." shidou continued, his pride skyrocketing. he knew he was right.

"can we do this more?" he asked, disgustingly sweet. "yeah. yeah we can." you replied, unironically enjoying it LMFAOO (we got two attractive whores on staaack)

"by the way whole time i was just tipsy, not drunk. i knew what i was doing." shidou chuckled, "i knew you'd agree to do this more."

you're perfect [name]. why couldn't he push himself to say it? big fat ego having ass. his cock's huge too, FUCKKKK. you both couldn't understand, was this to get over someone? or did you actually enjoy each others company... yikes. seeing him in class the next day was something.

— ©iqxatlantic / isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags ! : @twijaxx, @kyvkc

a/n: HI. so i've been working on this for unironically so long and its still doodoo but you know what! who really cares!! i had lots of fun writing this LMFAOO i LVOE shidou i'm shidou, he's me frfr we're both freaksters :3 i desperately need a partner omg ;-; idk how people are pulling but i fear i #needthat. anyways ilygs mwa mwa dont have sex when you;re drunk ofc actually don't even drink bc drinking sucks </3 also don't drink if like your tolerence is low omg i was gonna add in drugs because i struggled w that at one point but i forgot the plot ABGAIN midway writing (this took me 2 weeks to get out LMFAO) i have more drafts that are abt to come i swearr T_T

[nnight-dances]

BEAUTIFUL MONSTER

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x afab!reader

GENRE: angst, smut, fluff in that order of significance

TROPES: workplace romance, boss!jeonghan x associate!you, casual fwb situation but they're not friends they're coworkers, intense banter, nakamoto yuta makes a cameo, toxic relationship at some point but it gets better trust me.

"beautiful monster" because in private, jeonghan is nothing short of an angel to you – charming and devious, teasing but all in good faith, in faith that he was interested in you. but in public, he's monstrous with his cold shoulder, his indifference to you like you weren't in his bed every night, humming him to sleep.

PS: what are you doing with your life if you haven't listened to beautiful monster yet???? go listen to the gift from god called this man from jeonghan x wonwoo okay bye ily

"what makes you think you can prance into my office all prettied up and not even say a hi to me?" 

you look up from the stack of paper you're holding, and innocently tilt your head. "sorry, boss," you accentuate the last syllable with a smile, "just trying to be as resourceful as i can be." 

"oh, come on," jeonghan swivels dangerously in his hefty desk chair, all just to show you the little ridiculous hint of a smirk on his lips. "you're not really mad about that?"

"about what, sir? i'm just doing justice to my position in my short time here, after all."

"you know, quoting things i said back at me isn't as effective of an attack as you think it is, y/n," he tells you, but you can tell he's a little worked up because he shifts a little in his seat. "cut the fucking attitude, princess, what's wrong?" 

you narrow your eyes at him, more so at his audacity to pull out the private nickname in your shared place of work in broad daylight. and on a wednesday no less. "nothing's wrong, mr. yoon. i'm just reflecting on your incredibly insightful speech at the meeting earlier. seems like i don't know you all that well."

"well, you do know me all that well, which is why deep down, you know that whatever i said it wasn't addressed to you." jeonghan stands up and you have to swallow the smug look that threatens to spill out. 

yoon jeonghan, the star employee at his company, didn't get out of his chair, not even to greet the most valuable client. yet here he was, walking to you, hand on your elbow, dangerously unprofessional. 

"must be really deep down because i don't think the man i know would be that cruel to our newest hire," you bite back, shaking his hold over you, "and perhaps it would've helped me interpret you better if you didn't address your grand speech to every low-level associate in the room."

"low-level–? y/n, you know that–"

you don't let him finish, sure he'd find a way to spin his words and get out of being held accountable for the shit he spewed two hours ago. well, you weren't gonna let him get his way, not this time. you bow politely, "good day, mr. yoon. let me know if i can assist you with any work-related matters." 

god, you could be vexing when you wanted to, jeonghan thought to himself watching you stride off in your unbelievably well-fitting pants. he does wonder how you manage to never show up to work covered in creases, what with all the running around you do, from his place to yours every morning. okay maybe every other morning, but it was impressive, the way your white shirts were always crisper than the morning coffee you handed him on your way to your desk, and the way he'd never managed to see your lipstick a smudge out of place in all the time he'd worked with you.

"where'd jenna go again?" you question out loud when you return to find the new hire out of her desk yet again. she'd been the reason jeonghan had burst into his impormptu but condescending talk and though he had some fair reason to speak the way he did, you didn't appreciate the hierarchical intimidation it encouraged. 

"um, i think she just took her fifth bathroom break of the day," muttered seulgi with a grimace. "every time she does that the number of files on my desk goes up."

"send 'em over, seulgi."

"what? no, you have more than enough on your plate–"

"my research and writing skills are what got me hired, so i might as well revisit my roots once in a while. plus, it's gonna take a while to replace jenna, if we're trying to find someone this late."

"all right then, i guess i'll bring these over to you then," seulgi says in an apologegtic tone as she plops a fresh set of files on your desk, which has managed to stay clear of any such physical copies of documents since last year when you convinced joshua to make the firm go paper-free.

well, mostly. except for monkey jobs like this one which usually went to inexperienced hires. but given the unfortunate situation you find yourself in, you have no choice but to ignore your strcitly digital policy to pull out your wooden pencil for the first time in a while.

it takes you long enough to get through half of the stack that jeonghan's done for the day and you haven't moved an inch. he pauses in front of your desk, taken aback at the sight of you reading through a physical file. and then he notices the empty desk down the line, one that should've held the redhead called jenna. 

"and since when did you start doing unpaid labor?"

you look up with a start and sigh when it's jeonghan. "good night, mr. yoon." 

"wow, that's cold. can't a superior worry about his precious protege's wellbeing? y/n, you're overqualified for this work so why don't you put it down and go home?"

your mouth twitches with a bitter comment you barely hold in. "i'm the best person for this job till we find someone else to do it. i'm also the only one with the balls to sit down and finish it on top of my own workload. so i'm sorry but i won't be putting this down just yet. did you want me to call driver choi for you?"

jeonghan blinks silently at you, realizing you weren't gonna listen to a word he said, not even if he was the only voice of reason in your vicinity right now. he shrugs, "i can see myself out. just be here on time tomorrow, we have an important case to discuss."

"as you wish," you nod cordially and return to your work. 

– 

jeonghan's up till four that night, which is when he hears you shuffle into his condo. he silently thanks his past self who decided to drop a spare key to his place when your visits had become a regular thing. 

you're pulling your hair out of the tight ponytail you'd kept it in all day and throw the tie on the nightstand, almost screaming out of your skin when you see jeonghan looking at you, propped up on his shoulder. 

"what the fuck– why are you still awake?"

"why are you mad at me?"

you ignore his question and start untuck your shirt from your pants, unbuttoning them. 

"oh my god, is this the day you finally have mad sex with me–?"

you give jeonghan an unimpressed smile as you let the pants drop and throw yourself into the empty space beside him, closing your eyes with a weary sigh. "wake me up at 6."

jeonghan being the devious idiot he is, only worsens with every second you don't address his words directly. he rolls closer to you, hand finding his place under your shirt, on your hot stomach. "babydoll, i'm sorry you had to work so late," he whispers as he presses a kiss to your skin. "but if you don't talk to me, i can't make things right."

"you can't make things right, period, jeonghan," you tell him, eyes still closed. the man wouldn't get any more of your energy than you could help. "i'll be back to normal if you just let me sleep."

"you're being mean, baby, just let me make it up to you, okay?"

"jeonghan, unless you can change who you are as a very human being, i don't think there's anything you can do," you strain, shoving him away, "i'm not about to throw a tantrum so don't worry. let me sleep if you want to have your best associate working for you tomorrow."

that seems to get the message across because he doesn't say another word. or maybe he does but you're too busy slipping into the sleep you desperately need after a crazy work day. jeonghan wakes you up with a solemn look on his face and you sit up in a panic, thinking something's gone wrong at work.

but then he says, "sorry, i overslept. it's 7. you'll have to wear the spare pair of clothes you keep here to work."

"i hate you," you shriek as you jump out of bed, rushing to freshen up in his bathroom as he nods and starts getting ready himself. he does seem like he's keeping to himself because usually, jeonghan would've made a few too many comments about how cozy and domestic it is for the two of you to be using the same mirror to get ready as if his place didn't have any other mirrors to use. he even lets you fix his tie without a snarky comment, just a little kiss on your cheek that you barely tolerate without a shake of your head. 

he watches you put on the makeup you keep in your purse for emergencies like this, but can't help muse over how much he must hate to the idea of losing you at work to be acting this obedient. you smile a little to yourself, pleased at least at his respect for you, if not his love. 

truth be told, you often regretted being in this strange more than coworkers but less than lovers situation you had with yoon jeonghan, your direct superior at work. but you were too deep in it to back out, too down bad for the man's charms to turn your back to him. 

it had started almost as soon as jeonghan had laid eyes on you, his private conversations with you always consisted of one too many suggestive comments and he somehow always managed to flirt with you without you truly registering it. by the time you recognized the unprofessional nature of your relationship with him, you were five kisses too late. late nights at the office turned into late nights at his place, because it was conveniently much closer to the office than yours. 

somewhere along the way, though, you had to face the harsh reality that no matter how sweet jeonghan could be when he was flirting with you, he was always going to be something of a beautiful monster. because in private, jeonghan is nothing short of an angel to you – charming and devious, teasing but all in good faith, in faith that he was helplessly into you. but in public, he's monstrous with his cold shoulder, his indifference to you like you weren't in his bed every night, humming him to sleep.  

the harsh reality you face that very morning when he calls you into his office. 

"morning how can i–," you start and then make eye-contact with the man seated on the sofa across from jeonghan. "oh, morning, mr. nakamoto! i didn't realize you were in town!"

nakamoto yuta laughs loudly at your hurried greeting, crossing his legs as he shamelessly checks you out. "oh, come now, call me yuta like the good old days, y/n! and where were you this morning when i was all over the place trying to find the famous yoon jeonghan's office."

"ah, i'm sorry i was a little late this morning–" you spare a glance at jeonghan smiling in his chair, "my cheap excuse of an alarm didn't go off on time. i really should get a new one."

"if you'd come to work for me like i asked, you wouldn't have to work at the ass crack of dawn y'know?" yuta raises a brow at you with a small grin and you tuck some hair behind your ear bashfully, not forgetting to observe how jeonghan is stiff in his seat. as stiff as a slick bastard like him could get anyway because you could've missed the glare he shot you when he stands up and crosses the room to yuta. 

he pauses next to you, cold hand coming to rest on your arm, a possessive gesture explicit enough for yuta to muse over. "i didn't realize you came in here to declare war over my best associate, yuta, or i would've prepared harder."

the japanese businessman laughs wholeheartedly, "sorry, han, you know i can't help myself these days. it's getting harder to find familar faces in the industry these days, what with all the incompetence that's cropping up." he sighs then with a glance in your direction, "still mad you came to work for this asshole over me."

you chuckle, letting down your guard a little at the man's sincere comment. "what would've been the point of working at your company when you'd always be across the globe, vacationing in some fancy hotel every other week?" you question with a smile, "anyway, don't lose hope, maybe i'll change career paths mid-life, so don't delete my resume from your system just yet."

"all right, i'll take that as a promise," yuta winks at you as you take your leave from the office. 

an hour or so later, you're summoned to jeonghan's office again, with a brief, "y/n, please." you suppress the urge to roll your eyes, knowing there wasn't any real need for you to be in the room with them except for yoon jeonghan's egoistic need to fuck with your head. 

"how can i help you?" you ask with your sweetest business smile and jeonghan stands up from the sofa next to yuta. he gestures to the other man with a glint in his eye, "y/n, mr. nakamoto says he has the rest of the day to himself before he heads out. i thought it'd be a waste to just let him roam on his own, why don't you accompany him?"

you blink blankly at jeonghan, taken aback at his thoughtless request. treating you like just another associate who worked under him was one thing, but treating you like his personal assistant who'd entertain his friends' whims was entirely another. 

and you know he realizes this because of how closely he's watching you, lips set in a lilt because he loves seeing his stupid little scenarios play out. yuta stands up when he senses the tension, "ah, don't bother y/n, han. i'm sure she has a lot of work to do. i'll just–"

"no, no, i insist," jeonghan pushes, only glancing at the man he was so earnestly trying to please. "you don't mind, do you, y/n?"

you inhale, sensing the challenge behind his words. the way he said it, it was almost inappropriate for work, the smirk and the way his eyes were all over you. but honestly, you hated his guts for trying to get you down like this. so if a challenge was what he wanted, then that'd be exactly what he was going to get. 

"not at all!" you start, a cheerful beam on your face that catches both men off their guards and you continue, "please, i was hoping for some time to catch up with mr. nakamoto– sorry, with yuta, anyway, so honestly, thank you, mr. yoon. i'll just go grab my stuff and meet you in the lobby?"

"oh– okay, sure thing," yuta mutters, glancing between you and jeonghan uneasily. you don't spare your boss another look as you leave his office and furiously pack your things into your purse, slinging it over your arm. "i won't be back today, seulgi, so don't text me unless everyone starts dropping dead while i'm gone."

–

"so you don't show up at work all day and then you ignore all my calls? i am your boss, y/n, you can't just blow me off whenever you please," jeonghan's voice is muffled on the other side, and you're guessing he's in his car, on the way back to his place. 

you, on the other hand, had been home for nearly three hours now after your little date with yuta, the man who'd walked around the city with your for a few hours before taking you out to a late lunch slash early dinner at the nicest place you'd been to in a while. so yes, you were in a good mood and honestly, hearing how mad jeonghan is on the line only makes you smile more. 

"oh, sorry, i didn't realize you were bipolar like that," you say in a pleased voice, "because last i remember you basically begged me to babysit your client for you."

"client?" jeonghan scoffs,  "you make it sound like you weren't sleeping with that guy for almost five years before i came along."

"well, i'm sleeping with you now and you don't hear me calling you anything but my boss to anyone."

"you're a real piece of work sometimes, aren't you?" the man snaps and then after a solemn pause, "what did you do with him all day, anyway?"

you chuckle softly, "can't disclose private matters like that i'm afraid. besides, i'm having real trouble understanding why you sound pissed at me when all i was doing was following your instructions."

"huh, that's funny, you want to get rewarded for running around with another man while i was banging my head at the wall all day today? don't ever try to pull shit like this again or–"

"or what, jeonghan? you're gonna fire me?" you ask, "how about you stop treating me like i'm the dirt on your shoe as soon as you're done using me for sex? i'm not your personal assistant that you can just order around to wet your friends' cocks whenever you fucking want, okay? or i'll be the one considering yuta's offer seriously." 

before jeonghan can have a chance to respond, you hang up on him, breathing deeply to calm yourself down. you take in your apartment, somewhat of an abandoned mess with all the nights you'd spend at jeonghan's. you felt guilty for own behavior, ignoring your own needs for so long that you'd forgotten what being respected really felt like. maybe what you needed was a real relationship.

–

"that's always been your problem, y/n," rina groans, "you always forget that there's men other than the ones you work with."

"ouch! you make it sound like i've only ever fucked my coworkers–"

"worse, your bosses–"

"okay, so it happened like twice! you're forgetting all the wholesome moments i had in high school," you warn her across the table with a fork. 

"you mean how you rejected any decent guy with genuine feelings for you in favor of chasing older men who didn't know your name?"

"i'll have you know i chased those old men because they were the ones who could get me the job i have today, so i won't apologize for doing what i had to do to have the career i wanted."

rina sighs, "that's not the problem. you could've networked with the people working in the industry and had a healthy relationship with someone your age. but you always got so emotionally attached to anyone who offered you advice that you didn't have time for anything else."

you stare at your coffee dejectedly, swallowing the hard truths your oldest friend was hurling at you. cruel as she was, you knew she wasn't going to sugarcoat things for you, not when you dragged her all the way across town on a saturday to have lunch with you when she had a million other things lined up with her upcoming wedding.

"i don't know how you do it, rina," you mumble, "you've a stable job, a beautiful home, and a doting fiance. god, that's like three worlds apart from the dump of a reality i live in."

"okay, now that's just untrue, y/n," rina scolds you softly, shaking her head, "plus, you have the first two things on that list."

"i have a job, but my place is far from home. i don't even sleep in it most days, plus, i think the last factor on the list kinda trumps everything else by a lot."

"well, who is that on anyway? it's not like you're undesirable or fucked up, you know?"

you groan, "what should i do, rina?"

"find someone who doesn't work the same 100 hour work week as you might be a start? maybe then you can stop treating your boss like a god."

"rina, you don't understand," you complain, "i know i make it sound too good to believe, but he's the smoothest talker you'll ever see and god, don't even get me started on how good he is in bed–"

"y/n, it's not the man's dick that matters, it's his heart," rina interrupts and when she doesn't burst out laughing like you do, you stop with a questioning look. "i'm serious, dude, you're not gonna be in it for the sex like 10 years down the line when everything hurts, inside and out. trust me, the minute you meet even a remotely normal man with reasonable expectations from life, you'll know what i mean–"

"that's the problem–" you start to explain your own beliefs when a head in your periphery catches your eye. "fuck me," you groan immediately when you realize who's sitting about two tables away from you.

"come on, y/n, i just talked to you about this, you can't be thinking about–"

"no, no, listen, don't look right now, but…" you trail off in disbelief and then force yourself to finish, "but my fucking boss is sitting to our left."

"you mean the fucking boss… you're… fucking?"

"yeah, that one…"

a few beats pass as rina slowly takes a look at the man across from you, hair down from the low ponytail it usually found itself in. at the perfect timing, jeonghan laughs at something the lady across from him says, hair bouncing to reveal his flawless features. 

"wow, he looks like nothing like you've described him as–"

"what, i've been going on for hours about–"

"about his charm, not how drop-dead gorgeous he is! i've been imagining some greasy old douche, not this tall glass of water…"

"first of all, your lack of trust in my taste in men is truly offensive… and–"

rina interrupts you, for the nth time in every conversation that you've ever had with her. "–it's worth mentioning that your taste in men is walking toward us as we speak–" 

"what…" you look up all too suddenly to find the man a few steps away, sly smirk in place as he approached you. 

"hello there, ladies," he starts in a low amused smile and god, if you could strangle him or yourself into silence just there you would've but instead you match his smile. 

"oh– hi, mr. yoon, i didn't expect to run into you here," you laugh it off with a pointed look at him, hoping he'd have the common decency to fuck off when you were clearly with a friend on one of your only days off. 

but you should know better because jeonghan will never give up a chance to open his mouth, especially in front of a stranger he hasn't had the chance to charm yet. 

"and neither did i! but here i am, with my lovely coworker and her…" his eyes dance over to rina who flushes under his gaze by the slightest, "gorgeous friend?"

you roll your eyes at the question and don't think it worth mentioning, especially when you're too busy choking yourself over his description of you as a 'coworker'. yeah, right. 

"right, we were just–"

"talking about the guy who's interested in y/n!" rina chimes in, her grin saying she thinks she's helping you but you kick her under the table, warning her to cut it off. 

"what–"

"huh, what's that again?" jeonghan asks, smile momentarily faltering at rina's comment. 

"ah, you know, y/n's just been so popular with guys since i've known her but she's never had time to settle down. but this guy's just been dying to meet her and when she called me to lunch today, i thought she'd finally be ready to meet the man of her dreams."

"the man of my dreams?" you choke yet again over a strangled laugh, "rina, you're really funny. you know i have nothing of that sort–"

"oh, come on," rina brushes you off with a scrunch of her nose and turning to jeonghan who seemed immersed in the bullshit your best friend was spewing. "she's just too shy to talk about it but– she told me, too drunk off her ass to remember, she'd only want to marry a man who was desperately head over heels for her, gives up everything to be with her, just to see her smile–"

"rina, i think–"

"and oh, what was it that you said? he needs to be able to think what i think before i've thought it? i'm not even looking at him if he doesn't worship the ground i walk on?? wow, y/n, you were full of it back then, weren't you?"

you redden, out of words at this point, half-mad she was yapping and half-mad at yourself for actually having said all the shit she was yapping. yes, god knows you did say everything she was saying, and there was a blurry video on your phone proving it somewhere. rina'd known you wouldn't believe a word without proof, so she'd recorded it without you realizing.

jeonghan's looking at you when you look up from your lap and rina cuts in again, "but you can't be to blame, now, can you? your parents always treated you like a princess, and your brother basically acted like your bodyguard until you moved out… i'd be full of myself too if i grew up like that."

you inhale deeply as you glare at rina, slowly standing up, "um, i think we should go soon or we'll miss the movie. right, rina?" you force your words out so rina can recognize you're not kidding. 

"y/n, can i talk–"

"sorry," you cut jeonghan off, too, head reeling too hard to respond to anything that man's got to say to you, "i really have to rush but if it's something urgent, why don't you just leave a voicemail? i'll get to it on monday."

"ooooh, that was hot," rina whispers into your shoulder as the two of you pay the bill and head out. "god, did i love torturing the two of you in there. and honestly, serves him good–"

"what the fuck was that?"

"what the fuck was what? i was just showing that bastard what you actually deserve," rina snaps, eyes wide, "you might not remember what you're made of, y/n, but i do and i'm not gonna watch as you let that asshole use you. he can realize what your standards are or he can find someone else to fuck with. not my best friend."

"...rina," you stop in your tracks, rina's words finally starting to make sense in retrospect, "you're—"

"okay, please don't get emotional on me, i have a movie to catch and you know i can't focus if i'm tired."

– 

that very night, you come out of the shower to your phone blowing up, stifling a smile when you see jeonghan's name plastered over your notifications. after a thought to it, you pick up.

"what?" you take on your most indifferent tone.

"wow, that's cold," jeonghan's voice is clear this time. he's at home. "you can really be a stranger sometimes, baby."

"it's not hard, i just pretend i'm you at work," you tell him with a petty smile he can't see but most definitely hears because he immediately scoffs.

"listen, i didn't call to fight you, okay? i just want to talk. i–" he stops abruptly as if out of breath and then, softly, "i'm sorry."

that's a first. 

"i didn't quite catch that, mind repeating what exactly you're sorry for?"

you hear his sigh loud and clear, "y/n, let me make it up to you. i'm sorry i've been an asshole to you, especially at work. won't you come over?"

"no, i won't. i have some beauty sleep to catch up on."

"then, i'll come over. but please, let me in. and i don't mean into your place, i mean into your mind. i know you want a grandiose dream man but i can't read your mind just yet, so just let me… let me understand you better." after a beat of silence, he punctuates his words with a "please?"

"...you know where i live?"

"wasn't born yesterday, princess. give me 10 and i'll be there. make sure you're wearing clothes."

he hangs up on you and you barely have a moment to yourself to calm your intense hearbeat and equally chaotic thoughts after what jeonghan just said. i can't read your mind just yet. just yet? did he intend to??? intend to what, become to man of your dreams???? 

as much as you internally cringe at the thought, your cheeks are flushed when you let jeonghan that night, watching carefully as he took his shoes off, wearing a strangely casual grey hoodie and sweatpants. somehow you'd only ever seen him in his suit. or without it. 

he looks at you for a moment too long, and then his hand comes to carress your hair gently, "hmm, never seen you with your wet hair down."

"what do you want, jeonghan?" you cross your arms.

"you know sometimes i think i prefer you call me mr. yoon over jeonghan. you sound like you're going to kill me in my sleep when you say jeonghan."

"or i could just kick you out of my apartment. my landlord takes break-ins very seriously."

"alright, alright," jeonghan backs off, keeping his hands to himself, "can i at least have some water first? nervous to be all alone in your place with you."

you narrow your eyes at him and when he just shrugs, you gestures to the kitchen. "you can figure out how to pour yourself, can't you?"

"y/n, i–" he takes a gulp of the water, and then sighs, "i want to take you out. like a proper boyfriend."

"that's crazy because unfortunately, i don't have any time to be going out with anyone right now."

"if you're going to lie about your work committments, maybe don't do it to my face? our schedules are basically married so i know exactly when you're free."

"oh, i see what's happening," you throw yourself on your couch with a mirthless laugh, "you're blackmailing me into dating you, aren't you? don't worry i won't go around spilling the tea about your kinks in bed if you just leave me alone, mr. yoon."

"okay i lied, it's infinitely worse when you call me that. how about just calling your sweet angel, han, huh? no, okay? listen, y/n, i'm serious. i want to be more than your toxic boss who you have mindblowing sex with."

"you are–"

"i'm not saying this for any of the ulterior motives you're trying so hard to think of. believe it or not, i'm into you, y/n, and when you left me hanging for like three days straight, i couldn't stop thinking of you. and well, i did miss the sex, but what i missed more than anything was hanging out with you. spending time with you." 

"...what if i'm not into you like that?" you ask with a quirked brow, not quite satisfied with the case he was presenting. he stood still across from you at your kitchen counter, breathing shallow though you weren't certain why.

"that would be fair but i'm asking you to give us a chance because i know i've never had a connection with someone like i do with you. our stupid banter, your witty ways to save my life at work and outside before i can anticipate them, and of course, our amazing chemistry in bed– y/n, i never will find something like this again. and you can say i'm full of myself, but neither will you."

if you were slowly starting to doubt that it really was yoon jeonghan in front of you confessing his love to you, you don't anymore when he adds that last arrogant part in. "you're awfully confident for someone who was blowing my phone up an hour ago," you tell him, looking away, "but honestly, jeonghan, i'm getting old, okay? i don't think i have time to play your games anymore. i'm gonna find myself a decent man and settle—"

"you hearing yourself? you're gonna settle?" jeonghan's crosses over to you, sitting on your coffee table and before you can tell him off, he takes both of your hands in his with the tenderness of a man that you've never seen him capable of being. "i know i'm not the most promising prospect of a boyfriend, let alone a husband, but i'm willing to change. not even change, i'm just going to stop pretending to be a little bitch to you at work because honestly it was killing but i was doing it to protect myself from getting too attached to you. but it's too late. i'm down bad for you, y/n."

"and i may not be the decent man you're looking for, but i can assure i love you more than anyone on the market. because i know you like nobody else can, and i'm going to stick by you no matter what."

you take a breath and hold it just to test if you're dreaming but then jeonghan drops his head into your hand, letting your fingers into his soft hair. "just give me a chance, y/n. i'm… nothing without you." his voice is small now, his charming self who showed up to rooms full of busy people to give them a pitch of their life long gone. he was just a man right now, pleading you to let him in so you could both have a real shot at loving each other. 

you pull your hands out of jeonghan's clutch, watching his expression turn into one of panic but you silence him by bringing them to his face, gingerly guiding his eyes to yours. he blinks back, pure and solemn. "where was this guy when i was begging to be held for the past week?" you wonder, half to yourself, "and before you apologize, it's okay. i… haven't been a saint myself. it was unfair to not give you the short end of the stick when i'd given you the impression it was all good and fine until now."

"but you have to know how little i feel when you treat me without respect at work– not just because you're my boss, but because i care about what you think of me… as a person. i want to be with you, to love you. so if you can be real with me like this, i think we can make it work."

jeonghan kisses your hand softly, "i'm sorry. i– i will do better. and just to be sure, that was a yes?"

"yes."

"yes, you'll be my girlfriend, my one and only lover, the apple of my eye, the prettiest sight since the moon was revealed?"

"...yes. and flattery is not one the list of real qualties," you tell him despite the blush that colors you. 

"really? it's a good thing that i meant every single thing i just said then, isn't it?" he leans closer, breath hot against your already hot face. "can i kiss you then, love?"

the new nickname only makes you more dazed and you nod with a mewl, meeting jeonghan's lips halfway. he kisses you like he's never before — without a hint of urgency, like he could kiss you for the rest of his life and not regret a moment. he's slow and intentful, eyes fluttering and breath heavy, almost like his heart was wreaking as much of a havoc as yours was in your chest. 

you press a hand to his chest, reassured by the heat of beat that meets you, and he pulls away in surprise at your motion. jeonghan's flushed and speechless like he's never been, just watching you through his lashes, out of breath. 

you look down at his body, taking in his tall figure cramped in the little space between the two of you. his legs cage yours on either side, knees meeting your thighs, and his arms resting gently on your waist. it's like his body's swallowing you whole, and thought heats you up in a way that has you tearing up. 

when you hide your face in your hands out of the blue, jeonghan's large hands find yours, cooing them away. "what's wrong?"

"overwhelmed…" you tell him in a tiny voice, "i've– you never… you've never been so gentle with me. i feel like i'm going to break."

"that's ironic, isn't it," he asks softly but not mockingly. "you're so precious, i can't believe i haven't done this sooner. i guess i was always in such a hurry to feel your skin before time ran out… before it was too late… or something? either way, i'm here to stay now so let's take it slow."

"so you'll kiss me like that again?" you ask, looking at your intertwined hands. he squeezes back. 

"you liked that? let me see your lips again, i'm never not doing that again."

you giggle at his enthusiastic reaction, his lips already a breath away from yours, feeling your sounds in his whole being like he'd been starved. he kisses you again, not letting go till you pull away with a gasp. "god, i need air, han, you'll kill me at this rate."

jeonghan's too busy peppering your skin with more kisses, "good, you're back to calling me han. and as for needing air, we'll just have to do that a lot so you can build up a stamina."

—

"love it when you do that, god–" jeonghan's all over his own words, trying to get them out as soon fast as possible, "can you say it again? i'm gonna record it–" 

"han," you warn him in a stiff voice, "tell me you didn't just walk out of a meeting to come ask me to say– i'm not saying it, okay? so let go of my hand before seulgi comes back and you'll still have a reputation around here."

"no, you can't do this to me, babe," he's whining now and it'd be great for your ego if you couldn't see the room full of people waiting for him to get back so he could continue the meeting. "just tell me what you told rina about the dates i take you on and then i'll be out of your hair."

"first of all, you were never supposed to hear any of that," you push jeonghan away when he protests dangerously close to your face, "and second, if you want to have a girlfriend at the end of the day, you're gonna walk away from my desk and go back to your doing your job. okay, han? i can't do this now, let's talk at night."

"...fine. if you agree to sleep over at mine."

"done. now go."

"and you'll hold hands when we walk–"

"go."

he turns around obediently not before throwing a flying kiss in your direction and you truly have to wonder how he ever managed to act so uptight with you at work when he can be hopeless like this. 

"i'll have you know," he whines that night when you're coddling him in his bed, "that i'm that hopeless only because i'm head over heels for you. i love you, love, and i can't stop loving you, even if a bunch of suited assholes want to find ways to keep me apart from you."

"a bunch of suited assholes is your job description, angel," you laugh into his chest, "and god, you need to stop doing that at work. at least find a room if you want to be all up in my personal space, okay?"

"reserve a room just so we can make out? hmm, not a bad idea—"

"that is the exact opposite of what i was suggesting–"

"and yet here i am, with the great idea in my brain. noted, princess likes risky sex at work. thrill of getting caught? or is–"

"when did making out turn into risky sex?"

"you know i can never stop at just that once i've started," he says, kissing your forehead and you hit his face softly. "liar. big words from someone who refused to do anything but kiss me all night last night, and the night before that, and what about the time we went to dinner that time? oh, right, you didn't even kiss me."

"are you mad i'm being mindful of my pace?" jeonghan asks with a half smile, seriously concerned when you bring it up.

"no, i'm just shocked at the change up from when all you could think about was where and how we were gonna fuck."

"well, be assured that i still think about fucking you anywhere and everywhere at all times, but i'm more than that man now. i've got boyfriend worries now, 'kay? i want to savor every single thing we do, every date i take you on, and every small adorable thing you do. i'm not doing it the casual way. it's either all or nothing."

"you're scary when you're in love," you marvel with a sweet smile, "but full disclosure on my part, han, but i kind of need you to fuck my mind out because i'm literally dying here."

jeonghan goes still, pulling away to look at your face, amazed at the filth you could spawn with the purest smile on your lips. when he catches the glint of desperation in your eye though, he's switching control immediately, over to the jeonghan he'd managed to suppress so expertly to focus on treating you right. 

"damn it, you're gonna be the death of me, looking at me like that–" he's on top of you in a split second, his hair brushing the nape of your neck where he dives into your skin. "wasn't gonna ruin you again till i really had to, but fucking hell, woman, you know how to work a guy up."

"i can tell," you murmur, hands roaming all over his body, finding the hard bulge in his boxers all to familiar. "had to provoke you, y'know my fingers aren't enough."

jeonghan lets out an ungodly sound at your words, and you revel in the way he's coming undone, the way you've managed to push all the wrong buttons. to be fair, was it really wrong if it drove jeonghan to give you the best head he'd ever given you? 

when he rises from between your legs, you kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue, and stealing his breath when you push him over so you could straddle him. "let me return the favor?" you lick your lips to really seal the deal.

"you–" he groans when you don't wait to pull his boner out of its restraints, smiling ever so demurely like he'd presented you with new clothes or a ticket to your favorite show. when you take a lick at his tip, he twitches, hands in your hair forcing you away from his dick. 

"--can't–" he's hardly comprehensible but he manages to get his request out, "can't take it for much longer. need to be inside you."

"thought you'd never ask, hannie," you gasp innocently and jeonghan swears he's already seeing stars from the nickname you only pull out on the verge of your orgasms. he's spewing all sorts of obscenities when you sheath him in your warm pussy, and you make sure you take in the sight before you. 

jeonghan's glittering with sweat, lips wonderfully swollen and eyes rolled back in his head with the height of pleasure he was feeling. he looked like an angel, even when he was so fucked out, chest deliciously hard against your touch and his voice contrastingly in its sweet chorus of your name. he was doing much of the work even though you were riding him, long fingers trailing from your boobs to clasp your waist so he could have perfect control of your body.

when he's close, he swallows a whine and you clench around him just to rip the sound out of his throat, the moan halfway between a scream and a song to your ears. that alone brings you close with jeonghan's thumb at your clit really bringing you to the edge. 

"come for me, hannie," you elicit another heavenly sound from him, "please, let me feel you inside me." 

"i'm coming, y/n, fuck!" he bites his own tongue and then gives up when you keep going, "fuck, fuck, fuck, i'm going to– fuckk–"

you both fall over with the wave of pleasure that hits your bodies, elevated ever more when each of you feels the others heat. it takes a minute of panting for you to feel your heartbeat in your chest and see jeonghan's limp body under yours. you roll over so your back can hit the cold sheets. 

you genuinely black out a little from the exhaustion because when you come to, jeonghan's between your legs with a warm towel cleaning you up. he looks up when you sit up with an unspeakable look in his eyes. he crawls over, voice hoarse as his lips meets yours. "i think you just changed my life, y/n, that was amazing."

"it was, i think i was on another planet for a hot minute there…" you say, oddly nervous with jeonghan's body touching yours as if you hadn't been all over each other a second ago. 

"you were… unbelievable. i've never been that gone before, y'know? you might've broken me… all that after i promised to be nothing but a gentleman to you." jeonghan sighs a little with a shake of his head.

"sorry, angel," you run a hand through his hair, feeling him relax under your touch, "i was pent up, what from fighting with you and then suddenly becoming all lovey dovey. for what it's worth, i think we just upped fucking game. and it's probably because we aren't lying to each other anymore."

"probably because you're all mine now," he says victoriosly, kissing your hand like he did the night he'd come to your place to beg you to take a shot at a life with him. you're so glad you did because you couldn't imagine another place where you'd feel this way, completely like yourself and nothing like yourself. 

"always have been," you assure him as you press a kiss to the back of his neck, throwing your hands around his shoulders. you liked to hug him to sleep, like you'd always yearned to every time you unwittingly fell asleep next to him. he shifts closer so your legs touch and you feel his lips graze your wrist lovingly, pressing kisses to the warm skin till you'd drifted into a deep sleep.

NOTE:

still not sane about that instagram update from jeonghan because those images of him have me feeling like this: 🤭🧍‍♀️😧🌀🥵😇🖐️🫦🙁 if you know what i mean. i will be crying about it for the next few days till i can think straight so that's that!

honest to god, somebody restrain me from writing and thinking about this man because i’m genuinely unwell about him. genuinely this is a cry for help. i told myself i wasn't going to write another jeonghan fic (see: the 50 wips i have waiting that involve not jeonghan) but here i am. speedwrote this in less than 2 days and took 2 hours to select the header icons and they still suck. self-indulgent content as always but anyway, i think i will die thinking about yoon jeonghan so here's my small contribution to anyone else who feels anything similar to me. i hope you enjoy and please i love hearing your thoughts so any reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[sunrizef1]

So High School

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Warnings: None

Authors Note: This is what the poll was for lol

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yourusername

📍Miami, Florida

liked by sabrinacarpenter gracieabrams and 2,998,771 others

yourusername Miami, you absolutely rocked tonight!!! Thank you so much, ILY 🤟 💜🖤

load comments…

user1 🤟

user2 I WANNA GET HIM BACK

user3 I WANNA MAKE MAKE HIM RLY JEALOUS

user4 WANNA MAKE HIM FEEL BAD

user5 queen

user6 💜🖤

user7 THE SHOW WAS SO GOOD

user8 it was so fun 😭

user9 my fav

user10 I was in that crowd 🤭

user11 my favourite girl

user12 💜💜💜

user13 she's so pretty 😍

user14 Miami vibes

user15 y'all see that a couple of those f1 drivers were there

user16 which ones???

user15 uhh idk their names but it was the American one and his little friend

user17 Logan and Oscar?! 😭

user18 ahhhh she's so good 🥴

user19 I didn't get to go 😢

sabrinacarpenter it was so good!! 💜

yourusername thank you sab! 🫶

user20 I had so much fun

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logansargeant added to their story

yourusername

It was so cool to meet you!

Sucked to miss you guys after the show

I'll have to keep up with y'alls races from now on

logansargeant

think we mightve left too soon 😅

we got out fast

Assumed you wouldn't want to talk after the show 😅

yourusername

I would've stayed for y'all haha

I love f1, I was really excited when I got told you guys had tickets

logansargeant

damn now I feel bad 😬

yourusername

Its fine, really!

logansargeant

Let me make it up to you

I'll get you paddock passes

For whatever weekend you're free

yourusername

you don't have to 😅

I'll be okay

logansargeant

I'd love to talk to you again

take the invite

For me 😁

yourusername

Fine 😙

I'll check my schedule and text you 😊

logansargeant

can't wait 🤙

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

logansargeant

Where'd you gooooo

yourusername

They're giving me team merch lol

logansargeant

Oscar wants to re-meet you

yourusername

I'll be back in a sec

logansargeant

You better be 🙄

yourusername

You're so dramatic 😒

logansargeant

Rude 😔

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TWITTER

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍London, United Kingdom

liked by oscarpiastri logansargeant and 6,001,887 others

yourusername I ❤️ London

load comments…

user21 how was the race, queen?

yourusername it was great, double Williams points 🫶💙

user22 she's so cute

user23 WHOS THAT MAN

user24 logie bear???

user25 I know Williams blue converse when I see them

user26 the fit ate

user27 queen 👑

user28 the Aristotle quote lmao???

user29 you know I love a London boy

user30 I don't think that's Logan

user31 delusion manifests itself in a lot of different ways

user32 💙🩵💙

user33 I <3 Logan sargeant

user34 wait who is that

user35 Logan sargeant

user34 and who tf is that

user36 an f1 driver, he went to her concert and she went to his race this weekend

user34 yeahhh I still dk what f1 is but thanks anyway 🫶

user35 I love them so much

user36 Logan crumbs

user37 how did the only two Americans find each other in the very un-american environment lmao

user38 didn't expect to see Aristotle when I swiped

user39 Logan and Oscar liked

————————————————

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

🎵 so high school - Y/N L/N

liked by logansargeant landonorris and 12,008,777 others

yourusername I feel so high school every time I look at you

load comments…

user40 AHHHHHHHH

user41 I love them so much

user42 OH MY GOD HEY LOGAN

user43 lowk Logan jumpscare at the end there

user44 who tf is that blond man

user44 awwww I love him

user45 songs so cute 😭

landonorris WAIT I KNOW HIM

liked by yourusername

user46 no ones ever had me… not like you 🥹🫶

user47 my favourite couple

alexalbon thats my teammate ☝️

yourusername hi Alex. How's lily 🫶

lilymhe im great! 😊 hi y/n, I miss you!

yourusername I miss u 2 lils 💙

user48 I need more Williams x y/n content

user49 royal couple

danielricciardo 🦅🦅🦅

liked by yourusername

user50 IM BETTING ON ALL THREE FOR US TWOOOOO

logansargeant marry, kiss, kill?

yourusername all three

user51 YEAHHHHHH MARRIAGE

user52 I've been so used to the European-ness of formula 1 that this, v American, relationship is so jarring

user53 I want that hat

user54 the one post dedicated to her American boy, she wears a Canada hat 🤷‍♀️

oscarpiastri good 4 u

yourusername is this a reference 🤔

oscarpiastri lmao, yes

oscarpiastri genuinely congrats, though 🫶

yourusername thank you Oscar 🫶

user55 I love the drivers in the comments

logansargeant love you 💜😁

yourusername love you too lo 🩵😊

———————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

[missust3l3vision]

Lost and Found

Description: When Y/ns hiding spot is a little too good, Will goes a bit mental. Good thing she knows how to calm him down.

Rushing down the falls as you heard the faint counting behind you was menacing. As James Mariott continued you finally found the perfect spot. Climbing onto a kitchen counter then opening the cabinets you knew they kept empty you managed to squeeze in.

Nobody else would be able to fit in here so you assumed you were safe. It was too tall for some of the boys and out of the realm of possibility for the others. It was perfect.

Too perfect.

An hour had passed and yet no one could find you. Your boyfriend Will was both impressed and slightly worried. Everyone else was found and yet you were still missing.

"Okay Y/n, You win! You can come out now" James called from the starting point. All his friends and some of the crew around him. And yet, you didn't move.

It wasn't on purpose, Y/n had simply fallen asleep. And so the ext few hours were full of panic and fear. Will had ripped apart every room along with the other guys.

All of them called you, only to find you left your phone in your purse in the original room. This calmed down Will slightly.

"She wouldn't leave her phone if she knew she'd be leaving, so she has to still be here" he told the group, all them nodding before continuing the search.

The cameras have been left behind for a while now. James was more worried about Will. He had been calling your name in the air BnB they rented to play.

"Mate, maybe take five?" Will shook his head, the thought of giving up was no where in his mind. He needed to find you.

Another hour had passed and you finally woke up. Finding yourself in a small dark mystery location. It took you a moment before remembering where you were when you pushed on the door.

Climbing down you walked into the starting room. It was empty, your first thought being that they had just began the search. Going to your purse you root around and grab your phone.

4 missed calls from Will? That's weird. Damn bastard was probably trying to find your spot.

💬 You calling me should be considered cheating mister

Will looked down at the buzz in his hand, not bothering to respond he bolted to the starting room and saw you standing there.

Your hair slightly messy and your cheek pink.

"Where were you!?" Y/n opened her mouth to respond but instead a yawn came tumbling out "Did you fall asleep!?" He asked even louder, by this point many of the others had come in.

"Oh yeah I guess" you said looking up at him. Your voice was slightly deeper as you continued to wake up "who won?" James came in and pointed at you dramatically

"Found you!" He let out a big breath "Okay, I'm going home" he said walking out. He was done and seeing how worked up Will was, he didn't want to stick around.

"This was supposed to be a silly game" Y/n told her boyfriend "Are you okay?" He shook his head. She hugged him. He let out a deep breath.

"I was just I don't know, scared?" He mumbled into the crook of your neck. Will was a lot of things, and emotional was definitely one of them.

You two stood there for what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes. The rest of the crew long gone by the time he let go.

"I'm sorry honey, I won't do that again. I promise" she told him, giving his cheek a small chaste kiss. One he leaned into, his pout had vanished and his smile was creeping back

"So..where'd you hide?" He asked "it was bloody good"

"That's exactly why I'm not telling you" He let out a large sigh. Dramatically flailing his arms above him

"So you do hate me!" Giving him another kiss you two walked away, and back to his car. The drive was a content quiet, the both of them in a silent understanding of each other.

[sweatyracoon]

Skz Reactions!

Summary: You're on your period, and leak through your pants/shorts.

A/n: ALL members, I know I used Felix as a crutch a lot sorry

Warnings: blood mentions, suggestive (not all), language

Bangchan:

You and the eight boys had been friends ever since they debuted, meeting because you were one of the staff. You were near their age, which helped the bond.

You were particularly close with Han and Bangchan, them being so similar to you.

While filming a dance practice, you felt something painful in your abdomen, immediately making you cringe. It was too early to start, so you brushed it off as a simple pre-cramp. You continued with the camera.

During break, while the guys watched the video for mistakes, Bangchan came up next to you, gagging you from behind. He loved hugs, and you were never one to say no. He was just to comfortable.

But after a few seconds, he let his grip loosen, making you yearn to feel him again.

He didn't step up next to you; he didn't leave his place behind you. Then, you heard a noise, one like the sound of clothing being removed.

You went to turn, but Bangchan stopped you, whispering, "Don't turn, y/n. You have a red spot on your jeans."

You froze.

Sure, he was your best friend, but to go through something like this? Your ears flushed, scrunching your nose.

Then, his arms wrapped around you again, this time holding the sleeves to his sweater, wrapping it snugly around your waist.

"Here, no one will know, okay? Don't be embarrassed. After this, just go change," Bangchan finally came into view in front of you, smiling gently.

"Channie, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be, y/n. Its normal, I get it."

"But, I don't want to ruin your sweater-" You try pleading with him, face flushed.

"It can be washed, silly. Besides-" he paused, leaning in slightly. "I don't mind a bit of blood."

Before you could become more of a mess, he grinned and turned back to the guys. Getting in their positions.

"Hey, where'd your sweater go, hyung?"

"Y/ns holding it for me. It got too hot in here,"

Lee know:

You were in the kitchen with Felix and Lee know, the two guys you considered your closest friends. They both enjoyed cooking with you, and that made you happy.

It was late, you were sporting your white tee, and a pair of shorts that were cut a bit too short, but they guys didn't care. As long as you were comfortable.

The menu was simple, sushi and ramen. Quick, but filling.

The boys worked their magic, allowing you to help with slicing or heating.

As you went to roll some rice, a cramp knocked the wind out of you, the boys noticing the sharp intake of breath.

"Y/n? You okay, noona?" Felix asked, patting your shoulder.

"Mhm," you breathed out, nodding. "Sorry. Don't worry, it's all good."

"Okay," Felix responded, reluctantly going back to what he was doing.

You were suddenly tired, rolling less and less, leaning against the counter.

You heard shuffling behind you, and then a small gasp. That's when you felt it. The small, subtle trickle running down your leg. Blood.

Before you could get any words out, you heard Minho say to Felix, "An aspirin and a pair of sweats from my room," all Felix did was nod, looking shocked.

You went to move as the said that, but Minhos arms around your waist stopped you from cleaning the blood running down your leg.

"Minho, I-" you couldn't help but cringe when you felt the wet, cold paper towel running up your inner thigh.

Minho dragged it all the way up into your shorts, making you shudder. The coldness kept you alert and aware, feeling how he was taking care of you.

"Don't let this embarrass you, Y/n. It happens, okay? Here, put your hand where mine is," he told you, waiting for you to listen.

When Felix came back with the stuff, Minho led you to his room, blocking the sight of you from anyone passing by, trying his best to protect your image.

"Thank you, Min. I really appreciate it."

"No worries,"

Changbin:

As Bangchans younger sister, you often found yourself in the company of the 8 boys. You loved them all to death and hoped they felt the same.

Changbin by far was your favorite, because he was genuine with you. You had listened to his insecurities and helped him through them, only to be rewarded with hugs and random raps. You didn't mind.

You were sitting on one of the cushioned chairs in the lounge room, waiting for the boys to finish their interview.

It was at the JYP studio, so you weren't worried, knowing they were in their element.

You sat, scrolling through IG, waiting. It had been a few hours, but these things take time.

You felt your stomach rumble, and you sighed. Perhaps there would be time for a snack while you wait. But you had no cash.

The rumbles grew louder, and that sinking feeling in your stomach grew larger, turning into a sharp pain, making you whimper.

Normally, your period isn't painful, which is why you thought it wasn't your period.

"Y/n?" You heard from in front of you.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't hear them exiting the room.

"Binnie? How'd it go?" You asked, trying your best to smile.

"Fine. But your looking pale, jagi. What's the matter?" Changbin crouched, looking at you.

"Just some stomach pains, is all," You put your hand to your stomach, grinning.

"Need a hug?" He stood, spreading his arms. "They can cure anything!" His joy made you smile, standing to capture him in a warm embrace.

Your stomach died down for a little, but you felt Changbin shift.

"Maybe not everything..." He almost sounds like he was about to laugh, making you turn to see what he was seeing.

Your eyes widened.

Where you once sat was a large red spot, staining the chair, and, most likely, your sweats, making your face flush.

"Oh my god, Bin-" you choked, embarrassed by the sight. "We need to get rid of this chair,"

"How?"

"I don't know!"

"Treat it like a dead body...Let's burn it."

You smiled, knowing he was trying to get you to calm down.

"that's...oddly specific."

He looked at you with a glint in his eye, "Let's go get you some new sweats first."

"We can't leave this here, Bin,"

He thought for a second, before taking off his leather jacket, and, gracefully, placed it over the stain.

"Better?"

Hyunjin:

You and Hyunjin didn't get along, to say the least. Jeonjin was your friend, and when you started hanging with the others, everyone but him seemed to like you.

This didn't upset you, of course, but it was unfortunate because he was hot cute.

Jeonjin, you, Felix and Hyunjin were all at an art museum, looking at his work. You loved seeing his art despite his distaste for you.

His art was real, and it had meaning. It connected with you.

But once that feeling of happiness started, it all came crashing down the moment you felt your cramps. It started. Of course.

You motioned for Felix to come over to you, him obediently leaving mid conversation with some art critiques. Hyunjin was one of them, scoffing at you.

"Felix, I just started, but I don't have a tampon with me. I think there's one in the center console of the car. Could you grab it fo-"

"I'm on it, jagi. I'll text you when I'm back, okay?" Felix didn't wait for a reply, leaving.

He was such a good friend to you, and it nearly made you cry.

You turned, making your way to the restroom, not wanting your period to leak so soon.

"Hey!" You heard, turning. Hyunjin was standing there, a displeased look in his eye. "What'd you say to Felix that made him run out like that? I was talking to him," he complained, not meeting your eye.

"Girl talk," you replied, walking back slowly, trying to reach the door.

"Girl talk?" He looked confused before looking down at your bottoms.

It only occured to you in that moment that you chose to wear white jeans and a white shirt, your ears turning red.

"Oh...girl talk," Hyunjin breathed. He looked back up to your face to see you tearing up.

You expected him to laugh, maybe even shout about it, focusing the attention on you, but his eyes softened, making your blurry eyes close.

"Here-" Hyunjin whispered, pushing you into the bathroom, making his way to a stall with you. "We're at an art show, so maybe...if you..just-" he was stuttering, waving his hands, going to touch you, but stopped mid way.

"What?" You cringe at how little you sound, waiting for him to explain.

"Maybe, smear it around...?" He shrugged, leaving them suspended as he made an interested face.

"You want me...to smear blood...all over my clothes...?" You ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

"Ive always wanted to make art with blood ... I don't know-" he was interrupted by your phone.

Felix had the tampons.

"Hyunjin...Felix is at the door with my things. Definitely not tonight. But maybe, before it ends...you could use my blood if you want to," It makes you confused, saying it out loud, but seeing Hyunjins face light up makes you not doubt it.

"Okay,"

Han:

Lee know was teaching you a dance in the dance room while waiting for the others to show up for practice.

You and Lee know were close, so you spent a lot of time together.

He even knew about your crush on Han, but Han only saw you as a friend. Right? Lee know begged to differ, but he is also a tease.

You, Lee know, Bangchan and Felix were already there.

Your body cramped up a lot, so when your stomach clenched angrily, you brushed it off as being overworked. Continuing, you ignored the pain as best as you could, jumping into the next position.

When Han walked in, he caught sight of you behind Lee know, watching yourself in the mirror, focused on the routine. He admired this about you.

How your hair flopped with your movements, your face scrunched with focus, your neck glistening with sweat. He loved watching your torso, because even though you were a girl, your thrusts compared to his were so masculine, making him feel tiny.

And your ass-! He always felt the need to stair, making him think he spent too much time with Lee know.

He loved that it moved so gently at a fast pace, defining your figure. How the sweats hugged it just right before flaring at the legs. How it was painted red with your-- wait, what?

It was then that he noticed that you were on your period, and leaking. No one else seemed to notice, him being grateful in silence, not wanting to embarrass you.

Without a second thoughts and trying to not make a scene, he ran up behind you, and gave you a hug, pressing himself flush against your back.

"Y/n! I missed you!" Han said, trying to sound normal.

"Han? Come on, I was dancing, man!" You groaned, not truly bothered.

"Hey, I got some news. Wanna hear it?" This caught both yours and Lee knows attention.

"Okay...?" Han never really acted like this with you, so you were a bit confused.

"Well, then I need you to come with me," he whispered. His bag of a change of clothes and water was still slung around his arm.

"What? Why?" You giggled, seeing his expression in the mirror.

He playfully tugged you backwards, making you roll your eyes.

"Just trust me, jagi. Close your eyes, I can't have you looking," Han smiled as you listened, gently leading you backwards into the hall, and to the private restroom.

He finally let you go, telling you to open your eyes.

"Han, what are we doing in here," You asked looking at him for an answer. He looked nervous all of a sudden.

"I made sure no one saw, so before you get embarrassed, it was just me," he explained nervously, digging in his bag.

He pulled out an extra pair of pants, holding them out to you.

"Why are you giving me your pants?" You asked, taking them anyway, looking at them with confusion.

"There's...blood. On your pants. I wasn't sure if you knew-" Han said, fidgeting.

"Oh," was all you could muster before seeing that his face was flushed, his cheeks puffed out.

"Thank you, Han."

"Of course. I'll let you change,"

Felix:

Felix was your best friend. Your partner in crime. Your go-to. He was your everything. And now, you both sat, playing videogames together.

"No!" He yelled, scrambling to get back in the lead.

All you could do was laugh as you continued your pace, besting him. He groaned as you wiggled in your spot, happy to have won.

"Don't get used to it," He grinned at you, making your heart flutter.

He was extremely attractive, and even more so with his black hair. A new color, one you had yet to see on him.

"Watch me," you stuck out your tongue, it being green from your sucker.

He returned the look, his tongue displaying purple, making you laugh.

"Are you hungry? I'm going to make some popcorn," he said, standing from his spot on the floor.

Comfortable and content on his bed, you responded with, "Chips."

He nodded, making a noise of approval before leaving, making you smile. He always took care of you.

When it was time to sleep, you both snuggled on his bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

Your dream was sweet. You worked a cafe bar with your friend, Felix. You were taking an order for some girl before hearing your sunshine call you. And then again. And again.

Now, your eyes open slightly, being Shaked awake gently, Felix calling your name.

"Y/n, you need to wake up," he whispered, not wanting to worry you.

"What's wrong, Lix?" You yawned, suddenly feeling sticky.

"I think...you made a mess..." He looked down at your power half, making you squirm.

Following his gaze, you saw a large patch of blood on the bed, your shorts, and...Felix's shirt.

"ohmygod Felix..." You gasped, now more awake than ever. "I'm so sorry!"

"Shhh..It's okay, jagi, it happens," he tried calming you, seeing you tear up. "Here, I'm going to go run a bath for you, and put the sheets in the wash, okay?" He went to get up, but you caught his wrist.

"What? No, it's my mess. Let me clean it up," you said, trying to sound strong.

"Y/n. Just let me take care you you, okay?" He said, and then a cramp hit you. You gasped lightly.

Almost as if he knew your body, he bent down and placed a soft kiss on your stomach, then left to start the bath.

Seungmin:

You and Seungmin never really talked, but you both often caught the other staring. It wasn't uncommon for the group members to tease you both about it, making you both flush.

Today was one of those days.

"Seungmin, like what you see?" Changbin snickered making the two of you look away.

"Shut up," he grumbled, making his members laugh.

"Awe, come on, Min. You know you like her," Hyunjin giggled, making Seungmins eyes widen.

They continued to bicker, getting a reaction from him. You continued to stay quiet, feeling uncomfortable due to your period cramps.

You had a tampon in, but it felt heavier than usual, making you aware. The boys stood making you stand and followed them. You were at an arcade for the day, courtesy of JYP.

Splitting into teams of three, it was Jeonjin, Hyunjin, and Lee know. Second, Bangchan, Changbin and Han. Third, You, Seungmin and Felix. What could go wrong?

About an hour in, Seungmin noticed your disinterest in the games, starting to worry. You brushed it off, just saying you were tired.

And you were. You lost so much blood, it nearly made you sick.

While he and Felix were shooting at dinosaurs, you felt the wetness between your legs, making you gasp, shuddering.

The guys noticed this, stopping their game.

"Y/n? Is it...?" Felix stopped himself.

Felix was like your brother, and he knew when your period was bothersome, so, you nodded, Felix responding by getting up to leave.

He was going to get another tampon from the car.

Seungmin looked confused, looking at the two of you. Then he saw your face scrunch up in pain.

"Y/n? You okay?"

"I will be," you nod, flashing him a small smile.

He noticed you rubbing your legs together, and as he looked closer, he saw a small patch of blood. It wasn't hugely noticable, but he saw it. He grabbed your hand and led you to a secluded area with barely any people, sitting down in a chair.

Instead of you sitting next to him, however, he placed you on his lap.

"Seungmin!? What are you doing?" You gasped, shocked at his boldness

"Shhh..." He said, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing your upper and lower abdomen, making you moan. It really relieved the tension from the cramps, making your mind blur for a few moments.

"Better?" He whispered, watching your face relax.

"mhm,"

I.N.:

As Seungmins sister, you found yourself head over heels with his best friend, Jeonjin.

You and him became close, but not as close as you had hoped.

One day, in the dorms, you were all eating dinner together, but you weren't as hungry as you usually were because of your cramps. No one really noticed other than Jeonjin. He was worried because eating was one of your favorite things to do.

Why aren't you eating?

He saw you using your chopsticks to poke the food around, and that was when he took action.

"Here, jagi. Try it," he said, bring his sticks to your mouth.

You looked at him, and seeing him like this, you couldn't say no. You gently bit the food off his sticks, chewing it happily.

The sight made Jeonjin calmer, seeing you eat.

After dinner, everyone was tired, and forcing themselves to their rooms. It was just you, Jeonjin, Bangchan and Han in the main room.

"Night, everyone," you yawned standing to make your way to you and your brothers shared room.

Everyone exchanged good nights, but as Jeonjin watched you walking in the hall, he saw a large red spot on your bottom, making him call out to you.

"Yeah-?" You looked at him with sleep in your eyes.

"Change your pants,' He whispered as he walked up to you.

"Why?" You yawned again, watching his features soften.

"Because..." He hugged you, but instead of a normal hug, he let his hands brush against your ass, making you gasp.

It was so unlike him.

When he brought his hand back to show you, you saw the red liquid glistening on his hands in the poor hall light.

"Jeonjin-"

"Shh, it's okay. It doesnt bother me," he said wiping it on his own sweats, making you cringe, but in the best way possible.

"Looks like we both gotta change," You giggled.

[miupow]

dom yeonjun + "praising" dumbification (idek if it makes sense, but like "aww my cute baby went absolutely dumb. dick so good?" and yeah, the reader just agrees with him pathetically again and again (sorry for being specific ;;;;;)) for the kinktober event 🥺🩷

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 ‘24 ── 𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 + 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝜗𝜚 ㅤ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] choi yeonjun x fem!reader . soft dom!yeonjun , praise kink , daddy kink (i cannot help myself) , degrading praise , dumbification , dirty talk , name calling , arguing and making up , oral (m. rec) , facefucking , hair pulling

a/n ⸝⸝ this is short and also kind of poopy garbage but !! i wrote it lol im very sleepy…

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"where'd that attitude go, huh baby?" yeonjun snickers, brushing your hair behind your ear to cup your cheek.

you try to retort, but your words come out as garbled nonsence-- you can't talk back with yeonjun's cock shoved deep down your throat, the echoes of your gagging and choking obscene and deafening in the empty practice room. your knees ache from kneeling on the hard linoleum dancefloor, but the discomfort only adds to the arousal building thick and heavy in your belly. yeonjun fucks your face like an animal, his long slender fingers tangled tight in your hair as he uses your head like a pocket pussy. you can’t do anything but take it, trying your best to hallow your cheeks as you claw desperately at the sweatpants pooling around yeonjun’s thighs.

“finally gonna be quiet with that bratty little mouth stuffed full of cock?” he crows, tugging you up and down on his length by your hair. “look how cute you are being a good girl for daddy… just needed to be reminded of your place, huh?”

you gargle around his shaft, eyes rolling back in your head as yeonjun’s heavy balls slap against your spit-slick chin— drool dribbles down onto the floor between you, foamy and messy smeared all over your blushing cheeks that yeonjun patted affectionately.

“don’t ever act like a slut in front of my friends again,” yeonjun coos, his sugary sweet demeaning voice a stark contrast to the way he claimed you as his. “you want their attention so badly? i’ll make you get on your knees and suck my cock right in front of them so they can watch. that’s a promise, not a threat, baby.”

[zhukzucraft]

=> Martyn: Listen to Tango's insightful and crucial flashback

Tango: All I wanted was to build my Lovificator, you know?

Martyn: Your what now?

Tango: Oh just, you know, a redstone contraption!

Martyn: Ahhh

Tango: So I got enough redstone and iron to skadoodle some hoppers and repeaters together.

Tango: And with some bip bap boopin ill have the signal go around in a random direction.

Martyn: Hmmm!

Tango: Just need to attach like sixteen dunking platforms and we'll have ourselves a nice little game show to find love!

Tango: And I gotta hurry 'cause - you see - the other way is not that pleasant! I don't want to be the shmuck that meets his soulmate by dying!

Tango: No offence MJ.

Mumbo: None taken, mate.

Mumbo: It's not an experience that's high on my list of recommendatons either.

Martyn: I see

Tango: So I'm looking for the right spot near Spawn, yeah? And then it starts.

Tango: I'm getting damage from nowhere! Left right and center!

Tango: Thank void there were some chickens around, bless their souls.

Martyn: Woooow

Tango: Thought it was over by the time I found Joe here chasing bees, but noooo

Tango: More than half my hearts gone! Again!

Joe: Yeah this guy was pretty hard to lure back out of his little panic dirt hole.

Joe: If Impulse didn't come around with hay bales I don't know if I could've convinced him to upgrade it to a bunker.

Mumbo: wait wait wait

Mumbo: There were hay bales here? How many?

Skizz: Yeah and where'd they go?

Tango: Well

Tango: I-I needed target blocks so I-

Mumbo: Are you actually joking??

Tango: Hey gold medal, no interrupting my flashback, mmmkay?

Martyn: (no...)

GoodTimesWithScar has earned the advancement [We Need To Go Deeper]

Martyn: (no way)

=> Pearl: Keep Your Friends Safe

Start Over -- Go Back

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 39

(Crowley has been Headmage of Night Raven College for a very long time spanning over several centuries. As Headmage, he has made NRC his home and he would die before he lets anyone remove him from his home. He has wanted chicks of his own for a while and has yet to ever have them given how busy he is, hence why he is so obsessed with the Human being his Little Chick. Crowley wants the Human to be his young and he is less than pleased any time the Human shows affection to those other than him.)

Find Other Chapters Here

Warnings: yandere, yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, multiple yanderes, platonic and romantic yanderes, videogames, Idia shows skillz, mention of surgery, after surgery cuddles, slightly loopy Grim, betrayal, confessions, conflict, tears, Satyr, Faun, Shinigami, Hellcat, Harpy, Dragon, Vampire Bat, Raiju, Cervitaur, Drider

~~~~~~~~

As the evening was winding down, you noticed the warm smell of food. Thankfully the testing didn't last for long but it did leave you with a particular hunger and exhaustion. Naturally, that meant Malleus was hovering around you even as you tried to play a videogame with Ace and Deuce.

Both Goats were thrilled you were back and were happy to have the official title as your guards. They were already the envy of the other first years as your friends, but being your guards meant even upperclassmen treated them better. The two had been eager to be your guards and spend time with you, but had few chances outside of class.

Something about getting to spend their days and nights with you made them feel all the more connected to you. Doing homework with you, cracking jokes, and the delicious scent that continually drew them back to the kitchen. Even if it meant they had to be around the intimidating Dragon, it was worth it to be able to spend time with you.

"Hey, (Y/n), why don't we all sleep down here for the evening? We could invite Jack, and even that one Pomefiore kid Epel! He's a first year and is chosen for whenever Pomefiore guards you. It would be like one big study session!"

Deuce was smiling as he tracked the screen, the racing game the three of your were playing was entertaining enough to keep his attention. Ace- who had been actually good at the game from the start- was easily winning against you and Deuce. Even as he focused, he gave you that familiar grin as he once again won the match.

"It would give me more of you losers to win against!"

"... Losers, huh..? How about playing against a real pro?"

"Wha-?!"

Ace leaped from the couch as Idia seemed to materialize behind him, his blue hair sparking with a gentle red. There seemed to be a kind of anger in Idia's eyes and you were quick to offer him your controller as he took a seat between you and Ace. Deuce was quick to move out of the way as it seemed the Housewarden of Ignihyde was on a war path.

"Wait- I was just playing-!"

"Isn't that what we're doing right now? Just playing."

Idia's tone seemed flatter than usual and you were surprised to watch him lock in focus wise. Ace didn't stand a chance and Idia wasn't even gloating despite soundly beating the first-year.

"Sheesh, man! You didn't have to beat me that hard!"

"What? No 'good game'? No 'I was wrong'? Where'd all that bravado go now that you're playing against someone who actually knows what they're doing?"

A giggle from nearby drew your attention and you saw Ortho hovering there, Papa Hades smirking behind the younger Shinigami. They both seemed extremely amused by Idia's behavior and you couldn't help but feel humored as well. As shy and timid as Idia was, he knew videogames and he was not going to let Ace bully you and Deuce even on a simple racing game.

Idia had been the one to gently guide you through learning a bunch of new games with him when he guarded you last, and he had been very encouraging. Always encouraging you to keep trying and not blaming you for being new at the game. Now he was encountering someone who was dogging on you for being new at the game and not being very good at it. He had to fight for your honor.

"Idi-nii is always big into teaching humility to anyone trying to tease new gamers! And because it's you, (Y/n), he's not going to let teasing like that slide!"

Papa Hades chuckled softly and turned from ortho to you, an amused look on his face.

"Dinner is ready, everyone. Your Gnoll friend Ruggie has also arrived. I understand he gets double portions?"

"Yeah," you laughed gently, "he does. He had me promise him since I have been away."

"Understood."

Malleus, who had been a silent shadow around you, moved with your group into the kitchen where the others were waiting. You noticed that none of them had taken the chair-highchair combo that you typically shared with Grim. A kind of worry sparked in your brain when you noticed the kit was not present and Papa Hades noticed your concern.

"Worry not, Young Grim will return with Young Anastasi once he has been cleared to be alert enough to eat."

"So they decided on a pair?"

"Yes, I'm told the surgery went well. Young Grim will be flying again in no time, but he will likely want affection and a gentle hand, he will be tender after the attachment."

As if summoned by the elder Shinigami, Anastasi entered the room with Grim in her arms. His wings were wrapped so they remained closed, likely to give the webbing time to heal properly without stretching them too much. The kit seemed groggy but immediately held out his paws to you the moment he saw you. His impatient whining and mewling pulled at your heart strings as you quickly took the kit from the Shinigami's arms.

"Mama..!"

"I'm here, sweet boy. It's okay, I'm here."

You felt a certain level of anger that they didn't even ask your permission to go ahead with the surgery, nor did they let you be around for when he woke up. Despite your anger, logic told you that they likely moved ahead with the surgery to give him enough time with their supervision while his wings healed. Still, you had wanted to be there for the kit when he woke up, as he was likely scared, confused, and hurt.

"My wings hurt, Mama."

You looked up at Anasatsi with a frown, trying to keep your motherly anger at bay. Despite how you wanted to insist that she give him more pain medication, you didn't know what he already had in his system.

"When does he get another dose of pain management?"

"He can have more now with his food."

"Good."

You brought Grim to your seat and carefully sat down with him, doing what you could to avoid bumping his wings. Despite the highchair part being available, you felt like Grim needed more than a bit of time snuggling instead. He happily clung to your side and nuzzled into you, somewhat sniffing at the food in front of you.

"Grim, you need to take these."

"I don't like them."

"They make your wings stop hurting. That way you can rest easy."

"..."

"Will you take them if I wrap them up in some meat?"

The kit hesitantly took the meat and pills from you, quickly gulping the combination down so he wouldn't taste the medication. Even as the kit frowned in response, he still let you feed him and clung to your side affectionately. Malleus was about to sit next to you when someone else sat in the seat.

Sitting next to you was the Headmage of Night Raven College, Crowley. He stared at Malleus who seemed to consider violence before he begrudgingly sat down on the Crow's other side. Despite your frustration with the Headmage, he had become much more understanding and willing to let you speak for yourself.

Regardless, you focused more on Grim and feeding him, noticing how Crowley was also keen to give the kit food whenever you took a bite for yourself. It did make your task somewhat easier, though you knew Malleus was silently fuming and was likely to cuddle you while you rested in the nest later that evening.

~~~~~~~~

Winding down for the evening, you sat holding Grim who was trying to doze on your lap. Having finished the homework you had been assigned, you figured you could take some time in the nest to comfort the little kit. He understood he was hurting to help his wings heal but that didn't mean that he had zero need for some gentle affection.

While you pet his forehead, a figure settled behind you. Dark wings stretching forward to rest around your body as Malleus rest his chin on your shoulder. The Dragon smiled affectionately at Grim who tried to return the smile only to wince when he moved one of his wings.

"Hurts..."

This seemed to upset Malleus who reached out a hand, green magic swirling around it and into the kit. Whatever kind of magic it was, it seemed to work wonders on Grim as he relaxed into your arms again, that look of pain disappearing from his little face. Malleus was at least trying to help Grim through the pain however he could.

"Thanks, Papa Tsuno..."

The kit purred gently and closed his eyes, unaware of the impact of his words on the Dragon that held the both of you. Malleus was thrilled to hear the kit call him Papa, likely a carry over behavior from calling Lord Hades 'Papa Hades' instead, but no less endearing to the Dragon. He had once disliked how much of your attention the Hellcat took, but he had grown attached to the little creature you loved so deeply.

How could he dislike such a sweet creature that looked to him for affection and that had so easily claimed your loyalty? As far as Malleus was aware, so long as Grim liked him, you would do the same. That was all he could ask for.

"(Y/n), Silver tells me Lilia fed from you again?"

"Yeah, he was starving and fell into my arms out in the hall. He couldn't even lift his head."

"To think Silver would allow Lilia to get to that state..."

"I don't think it was Silver's choice. I think it was Lilia refusing to drink from Silver or Sebek."

Malleus frowned at this, vaguely wondering what game the old Fae was playing by starving himself. He had never had issue with accepting blood from the two retainers in the past, he should still have no issue with it now. The Dragon made a mental note to speak with Lilia when he next had the chance about the behavior he was exhibiting.

Where he was willing to share his greatest treasure with his most trusted ally, the Bat's behavior was concerning.

"In any case, we should rest. You have had a fairly draining evening of testing and theories. Better you relax and burn off the blot you have absorbed."

"What about Sebek, Silver, and Lilia?"

"They will join us when they are ready to rest. For now, you should get some sleep."

You allowed the Dragon to settle in next to you, already in your sleep clothes for the evening. Grim had quickly fallen into slumber thanks to Malleus soothing the ache he felt and you were quick to join him. Even as Malleus sat awake above you, slowly continuing that gradual channeling of his Mana into you, he considered his options.

On one hand, he understood why Lilia would hold out for a taste of your blood again. On the other, he worried what game the elder Fae was playing at by starving himself. Regardless of which it was, the Dragon knew he would have to gently chide the Fae and stop him from harming himself in his attempts to get closer to you.

~~~~~~~~

You awoke sometime late at night to a loud and desperate banging sound echoing throughout the room. The room was shrouded in a veil of darkness only broken up by the dim light of the moon. It seemed darker than you expected and you faintly thought it was the Human spirits before you realized how loud the sound actually was.

Your five nestmates- Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and Grim- were also roused by the sudden and intense sound. Despite how you wanted to get up and see what was going on, Silver and Sebek both put out their arms to stop you. Malleus, who had been laying behind you with his wing over your body, snarled a deep percussive sound towards the window where the banging was originating.

On the other side of the window, sobbing his heart out and obviously dismayed, was Rook.

"-laisse-moi entrer! Please Mademoiselle Trickster!"

Lilia was frowning deeply, glancing to you hesitantly. You wanted to see what had Rook so upset. He was typically the calmest and most put together of the monsters and he was clearly quite loyal to you as he had pledged himself as a knight in your honor.

"Let me go to him."

Malleus seemed distressed and angered, but Lilia acted instead. The old Bat Fae hopped out of the nest and over to the window to let the distraught Drider in. It was vaguely disturbing how well the large Drider fit through the smaller window, his many legs folding to fit and force his form through. You managed to slide away from Malleus who hissed loudly as the two retainers let you through, still flanking your approach to the weeping Drider.

"Please-! I cannot- Non, I cannot do it-!"

"Rook," you cupped his cheek, his skin slick with tears in your palm, "take a breath. Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm sorry-! I'm sorry! I'm-!"

You pulled the Drider into your arms, holding his head with your hand. He accepted the physical affection quickly as he sobbed into your shoulder. It was unsettling to see the typically calm and cool hunter break down with such heavy sobs and pleads. What was more unsettling was the fact he was apologizing to you repeatedly, making you wonder just what it was he was apologizing for.

"Rook, what happened?"

"It's Roi du Poison! My Queen has lost his mind. Ever since Heartslabyul was named your guards he has been in a poisonous mood! He is convinced Overblotting will turn your gaze. He has asked me to gather ingredients for a wretched potion, one that will put both his life and your life at risk. I can't let that happen! I can't let him do that to either of you..!"

Shock ran through you as you listened to his confession, worried not only for him but now for Vil. To you, the Harpy always seemed so put together and composed. He seemed so calm compared to the others and keen to make sure you are comfortable and confident in the clothing he crafts for you.

"Vil is planning to Overblot?"

"Oui! Mais non, I cannot let him hurt himself or you! I simply refuse. You both mean more than the world to me, I cannot sit idly by and watch such a beauty destroy himself! I have failed as your knight for ever even allowing such a plan to be concocted! Forgive me for my betrayal, Mademoiselle Trickster."

"Where is he now?"

"He is brewing his toxin in Roi du Selkie's classroom. He sent me to retrieve the plants for his concoction but I cannot allow him to go through with it. Please... Help this me save Vil!"

[jinxificada]

something to relax

dealer!jinx x fem!reader

summary: you deserve a rest, so you turn to the infamous jinx for help.

notes: nsfw, modern au, wc 4k !! inaccurate drug dealing.

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

"i'm telling you, you're insanely overworking yourself. i don't even understand where'd you get all the time to do everything you do." your friend scolds you jokingly, though you can tell she's honestly worried for you.

"nonsense." you roll your eyes in denial, "i'm alright, we take the same classes."

"i'm not in any club doing extracurricular stuff, nor am i tutoring any dumb kid." she discusses, walking with you through the crowded hallway towards your next class.

"well i don't really have a choice, it's for the-"

"the scholarship, i know." she sighs, finally arriving. "just... please take a moment to relax."

you both take your seats almost in the middle of the classroom, by the windows. she always sat in front of you, so she would turn around and chat whenever she wanted without you being able to ignore her.

"how about we go to that party on saturday?" she proposes and you already bite your lip with an hesitant expression, "please! we don't have to stay the whole time, just an hour or two."

"i don't know... i don't have a car and it’ll be too late to take the bus." you poorly excuse, not wanting to fully reject her.

"i can drive you! or you can just stay at mine." she happily resolves and you just nod with a sigh.

it's not that you didn't like hanging out with your friend, nor she's always so insistent. she usually is very understanding and gives you space. but the exams were getting close and you needed to higher your grades in a couple of classes, so you've been paying extra attention in classes, speaking with a couple of teachers on how to improve your grades and busying yourself with the usual assignments, the extra assignments, and tutoring this one kid below your year for some extra money.

unlike most of the students here, your family isn't able to properly pay for your education. you've done your previous years in the public school your small town, your teachers were so amazed with your capabilities that they recommended your parents to send you somewhere... better. they all collaborated on writing a recommendation letter for your acceptance. and you got the full scholarship! congrats, now you have to work harder than your classmates in order to keep it.

it wasn't fair, and your friend knew it. she felt so bad that she couldn't help you with money or your studies, but she can help you to ease your mind a bit.

so, you could only frown while making a mental list of all the valuable things you could be doing instead of this, standing in a big kitchen full of intoxicated teenagers. your friend was trying to talk with you while mixing alcohol in disposable cups for each one of you.

"and tomy was sticking his tongue inside of mary's mouth in front of her father, ew! you should've seen their faces when they realized, her father was burning red, i don't know if from embarrasment or anger." she rambled with a loud laugh.

you chuckle, mostly because her laugh was contagious. "who was tomy, again?"

"shh, he's coming." she suddenly leans in to whisper before pulling back wearing her social smile, "tomyy!"

a rather scrawny tall boy comes from behind you saying your friend's name in the same way, "fancy seeing you here!" ah, he had a high pitched voice.

"i didn't want you to miss me!" she quickly jokes, "nice party!"

"i'm guessing you're having a good time." he chuckles. at this point he's set himself right next to you and still hadn't acknoledge you. "have you already found jinx?" he asks curiously with a supposedly mischeavous smile.

"damn, she's here already?"

"yeah, just bought from her in the second garden."

'what the hell is a second garden?' you thought with a weirded out glance.

they chat a bit more and you think you know the kitchen from memory after rolling your eyes around as they talked. the boy soon moves to another guest and your friend turns back to you.

"the funniest thing is that they were sent to the principal's office was for sucking their faces off in the middle of class." she continues the conversation she was having with you as if you've never been interrupted, it was a talent of hers.

'is this what she thinks of a relaxing night...?' you mentally complained. you had your friend talk you ear off 5 days a week, but that didn't seem enough for her. at some point you muted her voice from your head and only listened to the loud pop music and different people talking over each other. your eyes were fixed on the next room through the kitchen's door, the flashing lights barely illuminated the crowd. blondes, brunettes and redheads, they all stay in the background when a blue head pushes through them to your way.

you physically react with a quiet sigh when you can see her face. a pretty girl, with the softest features you've ever seen, decorated with a messy dark makeup and intense eyes. curious to see how her full style looked like your gaze lowers on her body, she was wearing a white laced corset gripping her chest for life and low wasted black denim shorts, along with the biggest boots you've ever seen.

the girl who caught your eye walked into the room with loud, confident steps. people quickle recognized her, some greeted, some lowered their eyes to the floor. she only smiled briefly before grabbing two closed bottles of vodka like she owned the place and left.

"who was that?" you breath out, realizing you've been holding it the whole time.

"jinx," your friend shrugged, "local dealer, mental problems and rich daddy." she summarized, fixing her lipstick and soon changing the topic.

the night ended up being a boomer. your friend got a stoner to share his blunt with you both and that, mixed with the alcohol you had been drinking since the night started, made you both pretty tired and sleepy. luckily, your friend's house was about two streets down from the party, allowing you to arrive sound and safe while intoxicated.

you couldn't deny that you slept like a baby.

but the week started again a day after, along with your responsabilities. and it seemed that it's gonna be a shitty one.

for your extracurricular activity, you had the job to take decent pictures for the school's paper. they were all rejected by the president in charge. you scored a negative B in a practically easy test because you were too distracted noticing that the so named jinx was in the same class as you. 'she looks very pretty in the dark blue uniform.' was your constant thought. and the cherry on top, you didn't have your extra money of the week because the parents of your student were late with the payment.

they were showered in wealth, why won't they give you your 50 dollars? now they’ll have to pay $100 next week.

but for now… you had to survive with the remaining money you had left for the rest of the week. and it was only monday.

you thought you could handle this particularly difficult week, but all this tension build up only to blow up on your face. and the face of the teacher who was telling you why you had to rewrite the essay you just submitted.

you were use to cry over stress, you thought it was a healthy way of letting it out. just not in the public eye.

tears and sobs were comming out of you as you walked down the halls, feeling like millions of eyes were judging you. how embarrasing, right? but that was only your mind playing you, the only person who looked at you twice was tomy who recognized you but couldn't recall from where.

it was friday and the classes already ended, the club was about to start in ten minutes but you were debating whether test your luck and see if it can all get shittier or just call it a day and go home.

but a loud yell of your name from behind you interrupted this final decision, your friend throted her way up to you and worriedly wiped your tears.

"are you okay? what happened?"

"i'm fucked up! i'm gonna fail all my exams and get kicked out from this stupid school!" you dramatically cried in the comfort of your friend's arms. you knew she was fighting demons to not roll her eyes and say 'i told you'.

she listened to your whines for a couple more minutes until she had an idea.

"okay stop, shush." you frowned but stayed quiet anyways, "listen, i know jinx stays in club hours to sell, she must be in that shitty bathroom from the second floor. why don't you go buy some weed and relax this weekend?"

your frown deepened and even a light blush appeared on your wet cheeks, "uhm, i don't know... why don't you just stay at my house to hangout, please?"

"oh hun, i would love to but my parents are taking me to visit my grandma." who lived far far away, you nodded. "just, try what i'm telling you, okay?"

"okay..." you hesitantly say, your friend seemed in a rush because just when you were about to ask her how much it would probably cost and how many grams you should buy, she pecked both of your cheeks in goodbye and left you standing in an almost empty hallway.

you were on your own now, hoping the 15 dollars you had left from this long week would be enough, but you doubted it.

you hesitantly pushed the door of the supposedly shitty bathroom (it didn't have a mirror, nor the renovated cubicle doors the other's had, though it was perfectly functional). welcomed by the sight of jinx sitting on top of the counter sink, ciggarette in hand and an amused smile on her face while she talked with another girl.

they quickly shut up at your presence. you purse your lips awkwardly at them, you were about to greet them when this other girl just scoffed as if you ruined something and leaned to whisper in the bluehaired's ear. jinx only chuckled in what you thought was a very flirty manner and the girl left, leaving you alone with her.

it was a good moment to say something, jinx was looking at you expectantly but you were too busy checking her out.

the school uniform itself is rather conservative, but it was usual for students to fix it to their liking as long as it isn't too inappropiate. jinx seemed to be an exception, because you didn't know how was she allowed to move around with the skirt so short. you weren't complaining, not at all. with the way she crossed her legs you could easily appreciate her pale legs, noticing a few marks and bruises which fed your curiosity.

she cleared her throat, "so? you came all the way here to stare at me?"

"no- no, sorry." you quickly apologized and presented yourself, taking a few steps closer, your voices echoing in the bathroom,

"right… what can i offer you?"

though her words were friendly enough, her tone was playful and given that you had a breakdown just minutes ago, you couldn't help but feel like she was mocking you. she probably was.

"i, uh, i was wondering what's your cheapest relaxing item?" you hesitantly ask, seeing the corner of her lips rising the slightest bit in a smirk.

"are you familiar with drugs?"

"no... not really."

"then i have the perfect discount for you!" jinx smiles brightly and you get even more closer, interested. "weed is ideal for begginers, and i can give you 15g for 100 bucks, whatcha say?"

"oh." you instantly gloom. "and... h-how much for 2 or 3g?"

"3 grams? you can barely make a blunt with that." she mocks raising an eyebrow, studying you for a second before smirking again. it was hard to read her, but you could sense she had something in mind as it seemed rather mischeavous. "for 3g... 20 bucks."

you sighed, looking away in embarrasment. you heard that her prices were high, but this... what did she need so much money for, anyways?

"okay, um... i don't have enough money with me right now. thank you." you sheepeshly said, ready to turn around and go back home to keep crying.

"wait!" she suddenly says, decrossing her legs to shift in her spot, "don't give up so easily... we can arrange something..."

"arrange...?" you repeated, confused. jinx motioned with her fingers to approach her and you did, mantaining a respectable distance before she could reach your arm and pull you even closer, caresing the lenght of it along with your hand. you were stunned, feeling your ears and chest warm up. "how come?" you murmured, trying to grasp on the situation.

"i'm feelin' nice..." she hummed, "i can give you 5g... if you give me head."

"e-excuse me?" that was your first reaction, pulling the hand she was holding away and to your chest, "what...? are you serious?"

"oh don't be such a prude!" she chuckles, giving you a knowing look, "d'ya think i'm dumb? i've seen you staring, i know you want me."

her bluntness made you blush, damn, her mere presence made you blush. she was exposing you while offering her body in change of some weed. you've never been in this kind of situation before, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of something to say.

she kept distracting you though, with that pretty smirk of hers. since you didn't instantly ran away, jinx knew her guess was correct. reaching for your hand again and rounding your hips with her long legs to pull you closer, till your body hit the counter she was sitting on.

"i know you want me." she repeated in a low tone, "and i know you need it, toots." you unconsciously lean into her touch as she caress your cheek, right where the dried tears rested on.

"i don't want to t-take advantage of you..." you dumbly say, jinx almost pouted at how adorable you were. you thought it was you who was taking advantage of this?

"you're not, silly!" she giggled raspily, "this is business."

"i'm- i don't.... i'm not sure..." you rambled, and before you could make a point -if you were ever going to make it-, jinx pulled you into her for a kiss. a hungry, intense kiss.

and you instantly melted, your hands traveled to hug her waist as you reciprocated. she tasted like that ciggarette she was smoking a moment ago, mixed with the flavour of some candy.

you thought it was hot.

her body shifted closer, sitting by the edge of the counter to easily push her hips into you. the heated make-out was interrupted by her own heavy breaths.

"see, toots?" she rasped, "you can do it."

"okay." you hummed, leaning in to kiss her again. it was ridiculous really, how easily you gave in. specially after she dodged your attempt with an evil smirk.

"uh-uh." she pushed you by the shoulders, "i asked you to eat me out."

you almost scoffed in complain, before realizing that maybe… this was even better.

"but i have a condition." jinx called for your attention with an amused chuckle. "you have to make me squirt."

"fuck." you sighed, "really...? are you-?"

"i know i can, yeah." she nods, spreading her legs for you, "but it won't be easy..."

you certainly wouldn't mind trying, you weren't exactly up close to her pussy and you could already feel the smell of her arousal, inviting you to taste her. jinx lifted up her skirt to expose her lingerie, a furious pink with a wet spot on her center that watered your mouth.

soon enough you were kneeling down, it was a bit uncomfortable given the height of the sink. hesitantly, you licked your lips and looked up at her, in search of confirmation. in response, jinx flashed you a playful smile, leaning back to rest her weight on her hands.

satisfied, you concentrated on her pussy, carefully pressing down your thumb as if testing the waters. her hips twitched at the contact, moving towards your hand. you let out a hum, 'sensitive?'. experimentally, you sticked your tongue out to lap over her underwear, the wet spot growing as it mixed with your saliva. you were contently taking things slow, against jinx own desires.

she aggresively gripped your hair to push your head into her pussy, "don't tease me, nerd." she husked.

and you couldn't bring yourself to mind, rushing to move her panties to the side to finally taste her. you wanted to impress her, you wanted her to like you, and give her the best head she'd ever have. your lips hugged her clit, quickly working on her pussy, sucking and lapping. you were rewarded with quiet sighs and trembling legs, occasionally a moan. but it seemed that jinx was trying not to crumble, silencing her sounds by pressing her lips together, though it barely did the job. you didn't mind, not when you were making out with her pussy so fervently.

your hands gripped her plushy thighs as you put them on your shoulders, helping her to stay still. her hips twitched towards you every now and then, when you would suck particularly hard on her throbbing clit. and you? you were having the time of your life.

as busy as you always were, it’s been quite long since you had some fun like this.

jinx looked down at you with furrowed eyebrows and flushed cheeks, meowing softly as she felt herself coming undone at your enthusiastic work on her pussy. her hand pulled at your hair and you opened your eyes to meet hers, but her head was thrown back in pleasure. you didn’t stop, instead you moved your hand to furiously rub her center until she looked at you again, biting her lower lip to muffle her moan. she came against your mouth, rocking her hips lazily against you.

you licked her clean a few times before realizing you didn't accomplished your task, she didn't squirt.

"well well, toots," she said accompanied with a breathless and amused chuckle, "i told you it would be- mhm!" her mocking words were interrupted by your actions, you decided that you'll just try harder.

you went back at it, this time focusing more on her unattended hole. when your tongue explored a little more inside, your nose hit her clit sending shivers through her back as she arched. her initial surprise was overpowered with pleasure, she didn't care anymore about not showing how much she was enjoying herself.

after the previous stimulation, this time she reached her limit much quicker. you really wanted to make her squirt, so you put all your effort on your fingers, which you carefully put inside her. jinx cursed above you, letting you do whatever you wanted with your body as everything felt just so good for her.

and the reward came along her relief, her cum fell all over your lower face, though you shamelessly tried to drink all you could.

"mkay, stop-" jinx whined lowly as you kept your mouth attached to her pussy, against her own words her legs squeezed your head tightly.

you pulled back a few seconds later, wiping your chin with the back of your hand only to smudge all her fluids to your cheek, making her giggle. she motioned at you to get closer, opening the flush of water on the sink by her side.

"thanks." you smiled quietly as she cleaned your face with water, "your thighs..." you pointed out at the wet mess on her inner thighs.

"i know."

jinx took a deep breath before making an effort to get down the counter, barely struggling to make her way inside a cubicle. you shyly stayed put, fixing your hair looking to anywhere else to give her some privacy as she cleaned herself up.

"i didn't know you were that stubborn." the bluehaired girl mocked you, suddenly she was by your side again. this time cornering you.

"you- you asked me to do it."

"yeah..."

there was something so mesmerizing in her blushed cheeks, her darkened blue eyes. your breath got caught in your throat when you felt her slim fingers sneaking under your skirt uniform to playfully pull on the edge of your underwear.

you only looked at her with little hesitance before you tried to lean in and kiss her. she dodge your attempt for the second time, not letting you time to react when she forcefully turned you around, pushing her chest on your back.

"i can give you the 15g, if you let me play a little bit." she whispered against your ear, nibbling at the earring you were wearing, "hmm? will ya let me?"

"yeah," you quickly agreed with a pleading voice, hitching up your own skirt and resting your hand on top of hers while pushing your hips, your movements were hurried and desperate, there was a pulsing desiring waiting to be attended. jinx was overly amused, rubbing your center over your underwear. "yes..." you sighed, throwing your head back to her side, leaving you neck exposed for her to keep her lips busy with.

breathless moans left your mouth, relaxing your body against her touch when loud steps startled you. it was impossible for you to ignore them because there was a chance that someone could caught you both. though jinx didn't seem to care, mindlessly biting your skin.

"did you hear that?" you mumbled, your body tensed in anticipation.

"yeah," she giggled in response, capturing your attention by getting her hands under you panties which got a squeak sound out of you. "imagine if they find us here."

"not funny-" you grumbled, unable to push her away but your eyes fixed on the closed door.

"c'mon baby, must be the janitor. he's not allowed to come here." she reassured, her other hand moving your head to her, kissing your lips messily.

you gave in, sighing into her as she pump her fingers in and out of you. you already felt so stimulated that a few minutes later you were already cumming on her hand. she doesn't stops till you ride out of your high.

jinx loudly pecks your cheek, pulling her fingers out and up to her mouth, sucking off your cum.

"god." your voice trembled at the sight.

she only smirked at you, walking to her bag which was laying on the floor. your eyes were closed while you fixed yourself again, anxious to get home and change your dirty underwear as you can uncomfortably feel the stickness.

when you opened them, jinx left on the counter a small ziploc bag.

"a deal is a deal." she shrugs, "enjoy."

you slowly reached to the bag, a bit conflicted by how the situation was ending.

“i- i’m not even sure i needed it now.”

jinx raised her eyebrows at your murmur, you came to her with those desperate and anxious eyes, only for you to not accept it?

but she knew better, with her signature mischievous smirk she approached you once again, puts the bag in your hands and let her fingers linger a bit more on top of them.

“how about this? take ‘em home, use it tonight and touch yourself thinking ‘bout me.”

your eyes open slightly, and you blush like you didn’t just fuck her a couple of minutes ago. either she always caught you out of guard, or you’re simply not used to being… so vulgar.

“so? will you do that f’me?” she stares at you expectantly with those big blue eyes, amused by your reactions.

“y-yeah, yes i’ll do it.”

“cute.” she sighs, leaning to peck your cheek once again before going to grab her bag and walk towards the exit. “i want proof! text me later!” she chuckles loudly by the door and just as loudly smacks it closed.

[brookediamonds]

heyy i requested a similar prompt to another author but i think they went MIA 😞

fem!reader who used to be apart of iron dragons moved to california and joined miyagi do. Miguel and her started to get close but one day before the sekai taikai, reader catches Miguel and Sam together. Feeling betrayed and revengeful, she transfers back to iron dragons without the knowledge of anyone from miyagi do and it's not until the captains war that miyagi do and miguel see her as the female captain alongside Axel. she's sensei wolf's protegee and Axel's "close friend" (!endgame Axel). maybe where miguel feels jealous and guilty when he sees reader and axel together and close 😣

i see her in the back of my mind | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

Summary: After years of pining after your best friend, you're crushed to find out it's been all in your head when you catch him with someone else. In attempt to move on, you take the first opportunity to leave home and start new. But two years later, when you run into Miguel again, it tests the person you are today and sends your current close friend, Axel Kovačević, into a state of protectiveness.

Word count: 6.7k Warning: None, angst, fluff, friends to lovers

gif is not mine

The windshield wipers slapped back and forth, fighting against the rain that wasn't heavy enough to warrant their speed. 

You turned them down a notch and swallowed the lump in your throat that had been there since fifth period.

Miguel and Sam. Sam and Miguel.

The image kept replaying in your head like some fucked-up GIF that wouldn't stop looping. 

His hand on her waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of her yellow sweater. Her palm flat against his chest, right over the stupid Metallica logo he'd drawn on his white tee with a Sharpie last week when you both got bored in chemistry.

"Shit!" you shouted, swerving a little too sharply around a pothole. The car behind you honked, and you flipped them off without looking. 

Not your problem they couldn't handle a little defensive driving.

The kiss hadn't even been that good. You could tell from twenty feet away in the school hallway. 

Not that you'd spent time imagining kissing Miguel. Except you had.

For approximately three years, two months, and sixteen days. Not that you were counting.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel as you pulled up to a red light.

Your phone buzzed in the cup holder. His name flashed across the screen, and your stomach twisted into a familiar knot that was equal parts hope and nausea.

You let it ring. Let him wonder where you disappeared to after school. Let him worry. 

The light turned green, and you pressed the gas pedal hard enough to make the tires squeal.

Rain streaked across your windshield in angry lines, matching your mood perfectly. 

You pulled into your driveway with enough force to make the suspension groan in protest. 

The house was empty, mom wouldn't be home until seven, and dad was working from the office today. 

The stairs creaked under your heavy footsteps as you trudged up to your bedroom, backpack hanging off one shoulder. 

You kicked the door shut behind you with enough force to make your collection of concert tickets flutter on the corkboard.

The same concert you and Miguel attended with sensei Lawrence last summer. 

"Dammit," you muttered tossing your back pack to the corner of your bedroom.

You sighed heavily plopping down on to your bed, the mattress bouncing beneath you. 

Your phone buzzed again. And again. And again.

"Jesus Christ," you hissed, finally grabbing it. Three more texts from Miguel.

Where'd you go?

Are you ok?

Can we talk?

You tossed the phone onto your pillow face-down, as if not seeing the screen could erase what you'd witnessed. 

The rain tapped against your window in an uneven rhythm, like someone trying to get your attention. You ignored it, just like you were ignoring Miguel.

Your laptop sat on your desk, and you pulled it open, hoping mindless scrolling might numb the ache spreading through your chest. 

You open a new tab for your emails, and see there’s a follow up letter from sensei Kreese about a dojo he’s been talking to you about. 

Clicking on the recent message, your eyes scan over the long digital letter:

IRON DRAGONS INTERNATIONAL TEAM - INVITATION TO HONG KONG

"Wait, what?" you whispered, clicking it open before your brain could process what you were seeing.

The email loaded, its professional letterhead emblazoned with a sleek red dragon logo that coiled around the words "Elite Combat Sports Federation."

"Dear [Your Name],

Following your exceptional performance at the West Coast Regional Tournament and based on Sensei Kreese's recommendation, we are pleased to extend an invitation for you to train with the Iron Dragons in Hong Kong for our summer intensive program.

Our scouts were impressed by your technical precision and mental fortitude. We believe you possess the raw talent and dedication necessary to compete with our competitive team…"

The email continued, detailing a two year contract with international competitors, world-class instructors, and housing in the heart of Hong Kong. 

All expenses paid. Your eyes widened with each line, heart pounding against your ribs like it wanted out.

Hong Kong, China. You jumped up from your bed, pacing across the worn carpet, re-reading the email three times to make sure it wasn't some elaborate joke. 

"Holy shit," you whispered, running your fingers through your hair. "Holy shit!"

This was everything you'd been working toward since you first stepped into the dojo four years ago.

The bruises, the sprains, the 5 AM training sessions before school, all of it suddenly worth it.

You imagined yourself walking through neon-lit streets, training in ancient dojos, competing with the best of the best. 

A chance to be seen by people who mattered in the martial arts world.

Your fingers reached for your phone automatically, muscle memory taking over before your brain could catch up. 

Miguel's contact was already pulled up, thumb hovering over the call button when the image flashed again—his face connecting with hers, not too long ago. 

The excitement that had momentarily lifted you crashed back down, replaced by a hollow feeling that spread through your chest like spilled ink.

Not anger anymore, just a deep, aching sadness that made your shoulders slump.

Miguel would have been the first person you called. Always. But now…

Instead, you dial the number below the dojo name at the bottom and make your decision that you know will change everything for the better. 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

2 years later...

Hong Kong had changed almost everything about you. The way you moved, more fluid now, like water finding its path.

The way you carried yourself, chin up, shoulders back, eyes forward. 

But some things hadn't changed at all. Like the way your heart raced before a competition. 

The way you bounced on your toes to burn nervous energy. And the way you still occasionally thought about what might have been if you'd stayed in California.

Your parents were supportive enough to let you go, and venture out. They always wanted you to find yourself and be the best you could when it came to karate. 

So when sensei Kreese took you under his wing and helped you find the Iron Dragons, your parents were on board to help you achieve your dreams. 

Which lead you here, to the Sekai Taikai, the world tournament of international dojo’s that come together to fight for the championship.

"Nervous?" The voice came from behind you, deep and accented, familiar enough now that you didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"No," you responded confidently, pivoting on your heel to face Axel, your training partner for the 2 years. 

Your foot caught on the edge of the practice mat, sending you stumbling forward.

You crashed into Axel’s chest, his strong hands catching your shoulders before you could completely demolish what little dignity you had left.

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your palms where they were splayed against his green gi. 

His dark eyes crinkled at the corners, amusement dancing in them like firelight.

"Not nervous at all, I see," he teased, steadying you with a gentle squeeze. "Very convincing performance."

"Shut up," you muttered, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. 

Two years training with elite fighters, and you still managed to trip over your own feet like an idiot. Some things really hadn't changed.

"Just testing your reflexes," you said, straightening your gi with an exaggerated flick of your wrists. "Good to know you're alert. Might need those quick hands today."

Axel raised one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in that half-smile that always made your stomach do a little flip. 

The one that said he knew exactly what bullshit you were selling and was choosing to buy it anyway.

"My reflexes are perfect," he said, his Croatian accent wrapping around the words like silk. "Unlike your balance, apparently."

You narrowed your eyes at him, recognizing the challenge in his voice.

Your time spent together had taught you to read Axel Kovačević better than anyone. 

The slight tilt of his head, the way he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, he was baiting you.

His stance shifted subtly, the change so slight most people would miss it, but you'd spent hundreds of hours training with him.

You knew what was coming.

"Don't you dare—" you started, but he was already moving.

His hand shot out, a lazy jab that you easily deflected, slapping it away with your forearm.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, the closest he ever came to a full smile when he wasn't actively laughing at your expense.

You countered with a half-hearted knife-hand strike aimed at his ribs, which he blocked with practiced ease, his forearm connecting with yours in a satisfying thwack.

The familiar rhythm of sparring settled over you both, the anxiety about the upcoming tournament dissolving into the background.

"Your form is sloppy today," he points out, his eyes never leaving yours as he circled you slowly. "Distracted by something? Or someone?"

"Yeah, your massive ego is taking up all the oxygen in the room," you fired back, feinting left before throwing a roundhouse kick that stopped just short of his thigh. 

He caught your ankle in his large hand, holding it suspended between you.

For a moment, you were perfectly balanced, trusting him not to let you fall.

"My ego?" His eyebrow arched higher, those unique blue eyes narrowing playfully as he held your leg captive. "Says the person who bragged about breaking three boards with one strike for twenty minutes yesterday."

"It was four boards, and it was impressive as hell," you corrected, using his grip on your ankle as leverage to hop closer, throwing him off balance.

His eyes widened slightly at your unexpected move. You smirked as he stumbled back a half-step, his pale skin flushing along his cheekbones.

He shook his head, releasing your ankle but not before his thumb traced a quick circle against your skin, so fast you might have imagined it if not for the trail of heat it left behind.

You landed gracefully, finding your center again as you circled each other in the practice area.

"You know," Axel said, his voice low enough that only you could hear, "when we first met, I thought you were just another American with more confidence than skill."

You lunged forward with a quick jab that he deflected, his forearm sliding against yours with practiced precision. "And now?"

"Still American," he replied with that half-smile, as he dodged your next strike. "But your skill..." 

His movements slowed for just a moment, those unusual eyes studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. "Your skill is undeniable."

Something in his voice made your breath catch. These moments caught you off guard, when his usual quiet arrogance gave way to something genuine, something that felt like respect.

"Undeniable, huh?" you said, circling him with deliberate steps. "That's almost a compliment, Kovačević. Better be careful or people might think you actually like me."

Axel's eyes followed your movement, a predatory focus that somehow never felt threatening when it came from him. 

"I tolerate you," he corrected, though the warmth in his voice betrayed him. "There's a difference."

"Uh-huh," you said, throwing a lightning-fast front kick that he caught with both hands this time. "That's why you spent three hours helping me perfect my hurricane kick last week. Because you 'tolerate' me."

"I was bored," he shrugged, releasing your foot. "And your technique was painful to watch."

"You’re painful to watch," you snap back jokingly. 

Axel snorts, his green-ringed blue eyes catching the light as he shifts positions, moving into a defensive stance that's become as familiar to you as your own reflection. 

He's about to respond when you hear sensei Wolf call out for you both. 

"Time to head in," he says simply before walking away, leaving you two alone.

You take a deep breath, which Axel notices and lays a hand on your shoulder. 

Wordlessly, he reassures you and you both head into the arena, ready to face the competition. 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

Miyagi-Do. Cobra Kai. Both names make your stomach twist as you read the names lined up with your dojo for Captain’s War. 

Out of all the random selections, and they had to be in your first category?

Your team decides to attack the other team first, leaving Cobra Kai to approach Miyagi-Do first. 

Fortunately, your four teammates impressively protect you and Axel from the opposing team, leaving you to fight the last three fighters on Cobra Kai. 

You easily take their female captain down with a karate version of a Fujiwara armbar technique sensei Wolf taught you last summer. 

But the minute you stand up straight to go stand by Axel, your co-captain who just won his match as well, your eyes interlock from across the mat. 

With Miguel. 

You can see the look of genuine surprise written across his face, those dark brown eyes widened with shock. 

He’s standing next to Sam, who is just as shocked as he is, with the rest of your old teammates and sensei, sensei Lawrence.

Axel notices your lingering stare at the team across from you, and furrows his eyebrows when he see’s them, specifically, Miguel looking back at you a certain way. 

The tournament announcer's voice fades to a muffled drone as you stand frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from Miguel's face. 

Two years have changed him, his jaw is sharper, shoulders broader, hair styled differently, but his eyes are exactly the same. 

The same eyes that used to crinkle at the corners when you made him laugh. The same eyes you'd avoided in the hallway that last day.

Axel shifts beside you, his presence solid and warm at your shoulder. You feel rather than see his attention move from you to Miguel and back again, those observant eyes missing nothing.

"That's them," he says quietly, his voice pitched low enough that only you can hear. It's not a question.

Your throat tightens. "Yeah."

Axel's hand brushes against yours, a fleeting touch that could be accidental but isn't. 

His fingers are warm, briefly tangling with yours before he shifts his body slightly, positioning himself between you and Miguel's stare like a human shield.

"Come on," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. "Sensei is waiting."

His hand finds the small of your back, not pushing, just guiding with a gentle pressure that grounds you to the present. 

The touch is protective without being possessive, and something about it makes your heart stutter in your chest.

The protective gesture isn't lost on you, it's so unlike Axel's usual hands-off approach that it momentarily distracts you from the shock of seeing your old friends.

Your feet move automatically, following his lead as he navigates you back to your team. 

"You okay?" Sam asks as she watches Miguel watch Axel place his hands on you. 

"Fine," Miguel breathes, ignoring the turning in his stomach as he sees the corners of your lips tug up when you look up at your male captain. 

You used to look at him like that. 

Sensei Wolf is smirking down at you when you return alongside with Axel. 

"Great job implementing that MMA strategy into your fight," Wolf compliments you, sending a sense of satisfaction through you. 

"Thank you, sensei," you nod, appreciating his acknowledgement. 

"Next up are individual fights, and then bo-staff 1-on-1’s," he explains.

When you’re standing in front of your sensei, the past you left behind is soon forgotten, and you’re ready for the next category. 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

The tournament's food court buzzes with activity, a cacophony of different languages mingling with the clatter of plastic trays and the hiss of soda fountains. 

Teams from every corner of the world cluster around tables, some celebrating early victories, others strategizing for upcoming matches. 

The air smells like a weird mix of fried food, sports drinks, and the faint tang of antiseptic from the first aid station.

You balance your tray carefully, navigating through the crowd toward the corner table where Axel has already claimed territory. 

He sits with his back to the wall, long legs stretched out, scrolling through his phone with a slight furrow between his brows. 

"They were out of those protein bars you like," you announce, sliding into the seat across from him. "So I got you this weird energy drink instead. The lady swore it tastes like blueberries, but I'm pretty sure it's just chemicals and lies."

Axel looks up, tucking his phone away as his eyes land on the electric blue liquid.

He picks up the bottle, examining the label with suspicion.

"This says it contains 'essence of victory,'" he reads, his accent curling around the words with dry amusement. "Very scientific."

"Well, you better drink it then," you say, unwrapping your sandwich. "We need all the victory essence we can get after seeing that Brazilian team's forms. That girl with the red highlights was like a human tornado."

Axel snorts, but uncaps the bottle and takes a cautious sip. His face immediately contorts into an expression of such profound disgust that you nearly choke on your first bite of food.

"Oh my god," you laugh, covering your mouth. "Your face!"

"This," he says with quiet horror, staring at the bottle like it personally offended his ancestors, "tastes like someone melted a blue crayon into window cleaner."

You're laughing so hard now that tears spring to your eyes. "You- You did not have to be so dramatic!” 

You're still laughing when Axel slides the offensive drink toward you with two fingers, as if minimizing contact might somehow protect him from further assault on his taste buds.

"You try it," he challenges, one eyebrow raised. "Since you find my suffering so amusing."

"No way!" you push it back toward him. "I value my taste buds too much."

"Coward," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

"Strategic," you counter, taking another bite of your sandwich. "Can't win gold if I'm dead from whatever that is."

Axel shakes his head, unwrapping his own lunch with methodical precision. 

"So," he says after a moment, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "How's your shoulder?" 

He nods toward your right side where you'd taken a hard hit during the bo-staff competetion. You'd won, but not without cost.

"Fine," you say automatically, then amend when his eyebrow lifts skeptically. "Okay, it's a little sore. But nothing serious."

"Let me see," he wipes his hands off on the napkin to his left.

"It's fine, Axel, really," you protest, but he's already moved to sit beside you, the bench creaking slightly under his weight. 

His proximity sends a rush of warmth through you that has nothing to do with your sore shoulder.

"I'll be the judge of that," he says, voice low enough that only you can hear. "Remember Taipei? When you said your ankle was 'just a little sore' and then we found out it was sprained in three places?"

"That was different," you mutter, but you're already shifting to give him better access, dropping your sandwich onto the tray.

His fingers are gentle as they probe your shoulder through your team jacket, finding the tender spot with unerring accuracy. You wince slightly, and his touch immediately lightens.

"Hmm," he hums, the sound vibrating through his chest. "It might be strained. Not serious, but we should put ice on it before the finals."

His hand lingers on your shoulder, thumb brushing back and forth almost absently as he studies your face. 

You're suddenly aware of how close he is, his warm breathe softly hitting your ear. 

"I told you it wasn't bad," you say, but your voice comes out softer than intended.

"You also told me that energy drink would taste like blueberries," he counters, his lips quirking up at one corner. "Forgive me if I question your judgment."

You laugh, shoving him gently with your good arm. "That was the vendor, not me! I was just the messenger of that chemical disaster."

"Chemical disaster," Axel agrees, but he's smiling now, a real smile that transforms his usually serious face into something that makes your heart skip. "An accurate description."

His hand slides from your shoulder down your arm in a casual touch that somehow doesn't feel casual at all.

The spot where his fingers traced your skin tingles with phantom warmth.

"Your poor taste buds," you tease, picking up your sandwich again. "Maybe you should—"

The words die in your throat as a shadow falls across your table. 

You look up, sandwich halfway to your mouth, and time seems to stretch like taffy, pulling thin and slow around you.

Miguel stands there, one hand gripping the strap of his gym bag so tightly his knuckles are white, the other hand shoved deep in the pocket of his white gi.

"Hey," he says, the single syllable hanging in the air between you like a physical thing.

Axel goes perfectly still beside you, his body a solid wall of warmth against your side. 

You feel your mouth go dry, sandwich forgotten in your hands.

Two years of imagined conversations, of what-ifs and should-have-saids, and now Miguel is standing right in front of you looking like he's seen a ghost.

"Hey," you finally manage, your voice steadier than you feel.

Miguel shifts his weight from one foot to the other, dark eyes flickering between you and Axel.

The silence stretches, charged with unspoken words.

"You look..." Miguel starts, then stops, swallows. "Different. Good different. I mean—you look good."

Axel's presence beside you feels suddenly more significant, his shoulder brushing yours as he straightens.

You can practically feel the tension radiating off him.

"Thanks," you say, because what else is there to say? "You too."

Miguel nods, a jerky motion that betrays his nerves.

"I didn't know you were competing," Miguel says, eyes darting between you and Axel. "I mean, I knew you were training somewhere, but Hong Kong? That's... wow."

The silence that follows feels like quicksand, pulling you deeper with every second. 

You can sense Axel's eyes on your profile, observing, calculating, reading the situation with that uncanny perception of his.

"Iron Dragons," you finally say, gesturing vaguely to the logo on your jacket. "It's been... amazing."

Miguel nods again, shifting his weight. His eyes drift to Axel, question written clearly across his features.

"This is Axel," you say, trying to fill the awkward silence. "My co-captain—"

"And boyfriend," Axel interrupts smoothly, his accent thickening slightly as he extends his hand to Miguel. "Axel Kovačević."

Your heart stutters in your chest, but you manage to keep your expression neutral despite the shock rippling through you. 

Boyfriend? What the hell is he doing?

Miguel's eyes widen almost imperceptibly before he takes Axel's outstretched hand.

You watch their knuckles whiten as they shake, neither willing to be the first to let go.

"Miguel Diaz," he responds, his gaze flicking between you and Axel. "We, uh, we used to train together. Back in California."

"Yes," Axel says, his voice warm but his eyes cool as winter. "I've heard all about The Valley."

He drapes his arm casually across the back of your chair, not quite touching you but definitely marking territory. 

The gesture is so unlike him that you almost laugh—Axel, who normally maintains a careful distance in public, suddenly transformed into this possessive figure.

You shoot him a quick glance, trying to communicate a silent "what the hell?" with your eyes, but his attention remains fixed on Miguel, his expression perfectly pleasant and completely unreadable.

"So, boyfriend, huh?" Miguel says, his voice catching slightly on the word. "That's... great. How long have you two been...?"

"Two years," Axel says smoothly, his fingers finding the nape of your neck beneath your hair, tracing small circles that send shivers down your spine. "Almost since the day she arrived in China."

Your jaw nearly drops, but you manage to keep your expression neutral, though your pulse pounds in your ears.

"When you know, you know," Axel continues, his eyes never leaving Miguel's face. There's something almost predatory in his gaze, like a wolf protecting its territory.

"I watched her first practice with the team and thought, 'This one is different.'" His thumb brushes against the sensitive skin behind your ear, and despite your confusion, goosebumps erupt down your arm.

"She broke one of our teammates nose that day," Axel says, his voice taking on a warm, reminiscent quality that sounds so genuine. 

"He tried to intimidate her," Axel continues, his eyes softening as they flick to your face. "You remember? He said something about American fighters being all flash, no substance."

You do remember. The memory floods back with startling clarity—Jian's smirking face, the way the other students had fallen silent, waiting to see how the new girl would respond.

"And she just smiled," Axel says remembering that little half-smirk sitting on your lips that said you knew exactly what you were capable of doing. 

"And I remember thinking," Axel says, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that always makes your stomach flutter, "this is someone who understands what it means to fight for respect."

As he speaks, your mind drifts back to that first day with the Iron Dragons. 

The memory is so vivid, the unfamiliar dojo with its high ceilings and walls decorated with ancient weapons, the smell of polish and sweat, the curious stares from two dozen fighters who'd trained together for years. 

You'd felt so alone, so far from home, until that moment when you'd stopped trying to fit in and simply showed them who you were.

The satisfying crunch when your fist connected with Jian's nose. The shocked silence that followed. 

And then Axel, standing apart from the others, those unusual blue-green eyes studying you with quiet approval.

"I knew I had to know her,” he finishes.

You stare at Axel in awe, your face warming up at his words. 

The way he's recounting the memory, it's like he's describing a moment you both shared, something intimate and precious. 

And the thing is, he's not wrong. 

That is exactly how it happened, except for the part where he apparently fell for you on the spot.

At least that’s what you think. 

Miguel stares at Axel, then at you, his expression shifting from surprise to something that looks almost like resignation. 

"That's... wow," Miguel says, running a hand through his hair. "I guess Hong Kong was good for you."

There's a question in his eyes, one that's been there since he walked up to your table, but you can feel it fading now as he watches Axel's hand at the nape of your neck, the easy way you've leaned into his touch without even realizing it.

"It was," you confirm, your voice softer than intended. "It is."

Axel's fingers trace a pattern on your skin that feels like a question of his own. 

You find yourself leaning further into his touch, not even realizing how natural it feels until you catch Miguel tracking the movement.

"Well," Miguel says, shifting his weight again, the vinyl floor squeaking beneath his sneakers. "I should probably get back. Semi-finals start in twenty minutes."

"Good luck," you offer, the words feeling both too much and not enough for everything that hangs unspoken between you.

Miguel nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It doesn't quite reach his eyes, which remain fixed on where Axel's fingers continue their gentle exploration of your nape.

"You too," he says. "Both of you."

He hesitates for a moment longer, as if there's something else he wants to say, something important perched on the tip of his tongue. 

"It's really good to see you," Miguel finally says, his voice dropping to something almost tender. "You look happy."

The statement hangs in the air, simple yet weighted with meaning.

"I am," you say, and as the words leave your mouth, you realize they're true. Not just a convenient answer to push Miguel away, but a genuine truth that settles warmly in your chest. "I really am happy."

You lean back slightly, your body finding the solid warmth of Axel behind you, his presence steady and grounding. 

His arm shifts to accommodate you, wrapping more securely around your shoulders in a gesture that feels both protective and possessive.

Miguel's eyes track the movement, lingering on the point where your body connects with Axel's. 

Something flickers across his face—resignation, maybe, or acceptance—before he nods once, decisively.

"Good," he says softly. "That's—that's good."

His smile turns genuine then, though tinged with something that might be regret. 

"Bye," he says softly. 

"Bye, Miguel," you respond before he finally turns on his heel and walks back to his teammates waiting for him at another table across the room. 

You turn to Axel smirking, not bothering to move away from him even though Miguel is now well out of sight. 

The warmth of his arm across your shoulders feels too comfortable to abandon just yet, like slipping into your favorite sweater on a cold morning.

"Boyfriend, huh?" you spoke, your voice pitched low enough that only he can hear. "That's news to me. When exactly were you planning to let me know about our relationship status?"

Axel has the decency to look slightly abashed, a faint flush creeping up his neck to color his pale cheeks.

The red tint makes his unusual eyes stand out even more, the blue seeming brighter against the green rings around his irises.

"It seemed... efficient," he offers, though his arm remains firmly in place around your shoulders. 

You raise an eyebrow, fighting the smile that threatens to break across your face. "Efficient?"

"Efficient," Axel repeats, but there's a hesitation in his voice you've rarely heard before. 

His fingers absently trace patterns on your shoulder, sending little sparks of warmth through the fabric of your jacket. "I saw how he looked at you."

"And how was that?" you ask, unable to keep the curiosity from your voice.

Axel's eyes darken slightly, the blue-green depths shifting like an ocean before a storm. "Like he was seeing something precious he'd lost. Something he wanted back."

Your breath catches at the intensity in his voice. 

"So you decided to stake your claim?" you ask, trying to sound teasing, but your voice comes out softer than intended.

"No," Axel says, his voice dropping to that low register that always seems to vibrate through you like a physical touch. "I wanted him to understand what he threw away."

His eyes meet yours, direct and unflinching in that way that's uniquely Axel. 

No games, no pretense. Just truth, whether you're ready for it or not.

"The first day you walked into our dojo," he says, his voice so low you have to lean closer to hear him over the cafeteria noise, "with your shoulders back and your chin up like you were daring anyone to challenge you, I knew."

"Knew what?" Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

"That you were extraordinary." The words fall between you like stones into still water, creating ripples you can feel spreading through your chest. 

His words hang in the air between you, honest and bare in a way that steals your breath. 

The cafeteria noise fades to a distant hum as you search his face, looking for any hint of teasing or insincerity. 

But there's only Axel, waiting for your response with a stillness that betrays his nerves.

"You never said anything," you finally manage, your voice barely audible over the clatter of trays and distant conversations.

Axel's lips quirk up at one corner, not quite a smile but something softer, more vulnerable. 

"What was I supposed to say? 'Welcome to Hong Kong, I think you might be the most fascinating person I've ever met'?"

"That would have been a start," you say, your heart hammering against your ribs like it's trying to break free. "Instead of waiting two years and using Miguel as an excuse to finally say something."

Axel's fingers still against your shoulder, his eyes dropping briefly to study the table between you as if it might hold the right words.

"You were hurting," he says simply. "I could see it in the way you fought. Like you were trying to prove something to someone who wasn't even there."

Your breath catches in your throat. No one has ever read you so accurately before, seen through the layers you carefully constructed around yourself.

"I was waiting for the right moment," he admits, his voice carrying that slight rasp it gets when he's being completely honest. "And then I saw him looking at you, and suddenly I was afraid there wouldn't be a right moment if I waited any longer."

Suddenly you couldn't wait any longer either. The realization crashes through you like a wave breaking against the shore—this feeling has been building for months, maybe longer. 

In all those late-night training sessions when everyone else had gone home, the quiet conversations in broken English and halting Croatian as you both tried to bridge the language gap, the way his eyes always found yours across a crowded room.

"You know what?" you whisper, leaning closer until you can see the individual flecks of green circling his blue irises. "I'm tired of waiting for the right moment too."

Your hand finds the front of his jacket, fingers curling into the fabric as you pull yourself toward him. 

His eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his usually composed features before understanding dawns.

Time seems to slow as you close the distance between you. 

The first touch of his lips against yours is hesitant, questioning, a barely-there pressure that sends electricity sparking down your spine.

It's nothing like you imagined kissing Axel would be—and you have imagined it, in moments of weakness during sparring sessions, when his shirt would cling to his torso with sweat, or when he'd demonstrate a move with such fluid grace it made your breath catch.

No, this is softer, more tentative, as if he's afraid you might disappear if he presses too hard.

And then something shifts, like a key turning in a lock. 

His hand slides from your shoulder to cup the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer. 

The kiss deepens, transforms from a question into an answer, and suddenly you're drowning in sensation.

He tastes like mint and the faintest hint of that terrible blue energy drink, and somehow the combination is intoxicating. 

The cafeteria noise fades completely, replaced by the thundering of your heart.

His arms wrap around you, strong and secure, and you melt into him like you've found your way home after a long journey. 

The kiss deepens, and you're vaguely aware that you're in a public space, that your teammates could walk in at any moment, but you can't bring yourself to care.

When you finally pull away, breathless and dizzy, the noise slowly comes back into focus around you. 

Axel's eyes are darker now, the blue almost completely overtaken by dilated pupils, and there's a vulnerability in his expression that you've never seen before.

"I've wanted to do that since you broke Jian's nose," he confesses, his voice rough around the edges.

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you, genuine and free in a way you haven't felt in years. "That's a weird turn-on, Kovačević."

"Only for you," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek with a gentleness that makes your heart ache. "Only ever for you."

The words settle into your bones like they've always belonged there, like they've been waiting for you to hear them.

You lean your forehead against his, closing your eyes to savor the moment.

"So," you whisper, not pulling away, "that boyfriend thing wasn't just for Miguel's benefit?"

You feel rather than see his smile, the slight shift in his muscles.

"Not just for him," Axel whispers back, his breath warm against your lips. 

"Though his face when I said it—" He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, a rare mischievous glint in his own. "Worth it."

You laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. "You're terrible."

"And yet," he says, capturing your hand and bringing it to his lips, "you kissed me anyway."

A pleasant warmth spreads through your chest at the gesture, so unexpectedly gentle from someone who can break boards with his bare hands. 

"Maybe I was just curious," you tease, even as your fingers intertwine with his.

His fingers tighten around yours, a silent reassurance that this moment is real. 

"Just curious?" he echoes, his voice pitched low enough that the words feel like they're traveling directly from his lips to your skin. "Should I be offended?"

You laugh, the sound light and free in a way you haven't felt in years. "Maybe. Or maybe you should convince me it was worth the wait."

The corner of his mouth lifts in that half-smile that's become so familiar over the past two years. 

The one that used to drive you crazy with its quiet arrogance but now sends warmth pooling in your stomach.

"A challenge?" Axel raises one eyebrow, his thumb tracing the delicate bones of your wrist. "You know I never back down from those."

"I'm counting on it," you murmur, surprised by your own boldness.

"Maybe I'm just curious too," Axel counters. "Curious about how long I can keep kissing you before Sensei Wolf sends a search party."

Axel doesn't release your hand, instead pulling you closer until your knees bump under the table. 

The contact sends a fresh wave of warmth through you.

"We have fifteen minutes," he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear. His eyes search yours, suddenly serious. "But before we go back, I need to know..."

He pauses, and you're struck by how unusual it is to see Axel hesitate. 

He's always so certain, so measured in everything he does.

Axel's thumb traces an invisible pattern on your palm as his eyes study your face with an intensity that makes your heart race.

"I need to know," he continues, voice pitched so low you have to lean closer to hear him over the cafeteria noise, "if this is real for you. If it's not just about showing Miguel what he lost."

Axel Kovačević, the most confident fighter in the Iron Dragons, the man who once took down three opponents in under two minutes without breaking a sweat, is looking at you like you hold his heart in your hands.

"Axel," you say softly, squeezing his fingers between yours. "Miguel has nothing to do with this. With us."

You take a deep breath, your eyes never leaving his. 

The room bustles around you, but in this moment, it might as well be just the two of you in the entire world.

"When I left California, I was running away from something," you admit, your voice steady despite the vulnerability of the confession. "From Miguel, from what happened, from feeling like I wasn't enough."

Axel's expression softens, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your palm that somehow ground you, giving you the courage to continue.

"But somewhere between my first day at the dojo and you helping me hang string lights in my apartment because I was too short to reach the ceiling," you say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"I stopped running away and started running toward something." Your voice softens as you hold his gaze. "Toward you."

The confession hangs in the air between you, honest and raw. 

Axel's fingers tighten around yours, his usually stoic expression shifting into something open and soft that makes your heart ache.

"It's always been you," you whisper. "Not Miguel, not anyone else. You."

You slide your free hand up to cup his face, feeling his soft skin against your palm. 

Axel's eyes darken at your confession, the blue nearly disappearing as his pupils dilate. 

"You have no idea," he murmurs, his accent thickening with emotion, "how long I've waited to hear you say that."

His hand comes up to cover yours where it rests against his cheek, turning slightly to press his lips against your palm. 

The gesture is so tender, so unlike the fierce competitor you've trained beside, that melts your heart.

There’s an announcement over the PA system about the semi-finals starting soon, but it all fades to white noise as Axel slowly leans forward.

"We should go," he whispers, his breath warm against your lips. "The finals..."

But neither of you moves, caught in the gravity of this moment two years in the making.

"They can wait another minute," you murmur, your fingers sliding up to trace the sharp line of his jaw.

The corner of his mouth quirks up in that half-smile that never fails to make your stomach flip. "Just one?"

"Maybe two," you concede, your own lips curving to match his.

His smile widens at your words, and there's something almost reverent in the way his eyes trace your face, like he's memorizing every detail. 

His hand slides to the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair with a gentleness that contrasts sharply with his strength in the ring.

"Two minutes," he agrees, his voice a low rumble that resonates through your chest. "But I should warn you—"

"What?" you whisper, already leaning in, drawn to him like gravity.

"Two minutes won't be enough," he murmurs, the words ghosting across your lips. "Not even close."

And then he's kissing you again, and this time there's nothing hesitant about it. 

His lips move against yours with purpose, with certainty, with two years of unspoken longing finally given voice. 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

Masterlist

Taglist: @ggrgcribg

(a/n: here's a long one to make up for not writing these last few days, I just got a few more requests that are gonna be so fun to write, I can't wait for y'all to read them!! Don't forget to like, comment, reblog, love y'all! ps. also no hate to sam, that's my girl. don't pmo.)

[luza-wayne]

when they realized they're in love with you.

characters: iwaizumi hajime, ushijima wakatoshi, tsukishima kei

2.1k words

enjoy!

iwaizumi hajime

with his lunch box in his hand, iwaizumi opened the door to the rooftop, where he, oikawa, and you, his childhood best friends, would always eat when lunchtime comes.

but he was trying to resolve something these days, so he hasn’t come there lately and today was the first time in days he'll come to eat here again.

well, the thing is, in his mind it was just nothing but about you. whenever he sees you at lunch with him and oikawa, he can't focus on eating and would just stare at you or just listen to whatever you say.

he thought that maybe it's just him, not in the mood to eat. so, he tried eating in the cafeteria where the aroma of foods filled up the atmosphere, making anyone who can smell it hungry.

he thought it was the case since he was able to eat normally and now he's planning to eat with you guys again, now that his problem has been resolved.

“iwa-chan!” the brunette setter waved in his direction.

“hajime! welcome back, man.” you greeted him, as he took a seat in the middle of you and oikawa. “how was your problem?” 

“it's fine now.” he answered.

“jeez, you didn't have to go to the cafe alone. we could've come with you.” oikawa said, opening his lunch.

“it's a bit crowded there, it's better here for you two. itadakimasu.” iwaizumi clasped his hands together, before digging into his food.

you three started eating and you suddenly remembered something funny that you wanted to tell the two.

“hey, you two, listen here.” the two quickly looked at you, oikawa was looking at you while still stuffing some in his mouth, exactly the opposite of what iwaizumi is doing.

he's all ears, looking intently at you, not wanting to let even a word that came out of your lips pass by him without noticing.

oikawa's eyes averted to the ace and smirked.

“so, my classmate earlie—” the sound of a phone ringing stole all of your attention, you noticed that it's your ringtone and that your mother is calling you. “huh? did something happen? i'll be back.” you excused yourself.

iwaizumi just nodded and followed you with his eyes as you walked farther from them. that was his action until he heard oikawa trying to suppress his laugh.

he quickly glared at him.

“the hell is wrong with you?” he growled at him, only to make oikawa fail to hold back the laughter and rolled on the floor.

“no, it's just. i thought that if iwa-chan comes back here, you'll be able to trace why you always can't eat but it turns out i was wrong!” he explained and dissolved into laughter. iwaizumi furrowed his brows thinking what oikawa meant.

oikawa took a deep breath trying to catch his airflow. when he's finally breathing fine, he placed a hand on iwaizumi's shoulder.

“iwa-chan, it's love. you like our friend.” oikawa said, his face was serious yet it was obvious that he was holding back his laughter. 

iwaizumi was silent for a while before he grabbed the setter's hand and squeezed it hard while staring into the air. 

everything started to make sense for him. the way you always got his full attention, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and everything else.

‘shit.’ 

‘why didn't i notice? how come i didn't notice?! wait— does (y/n) know it too?’ 

iwaizumi was panicking in his mind, while oikawa screamed on top of his lungs, for the freedom of his crushed hand.

“hajime! you're bullying tooru again!” you pointed out, your arms crossed on your chest.

“(y/n)...” oikawa said and showed his puppy eyes.

“s-sorry.” iwaizumi quickly apologized and let go of oikawa.

“at least let me take a video of it.” you said and seated.

“excuse me? where'd you get that audacity from?”

“picked it up from a junior, named kunimi akira.” you bragged and noticed iwaizumi staring blankly at you. “is there something in my face?” 

he shook his head no and faced the other way.

‘she doesn't seem to notice, but now i'm feeling giddy every time i look at her. shit.’

ushijima wakatoshi

while reading his manga that he just bought and eating some chips, tendou heard a knock on his dorm room's door. he walked to the door energetically, just like how he always is.

“yes, yes~ i'm coming~ i'm coming~” he speaks to the person waiting outside. he opened it with a wide smile on his face.

“wakatoshi-kun! what's wrong?” his eyes widened, surprised by the sudden visit of the great ushijima wakatoshi to his room.

“tendou, i have a problem.” he started with a straight face.

tendou offered him to come in and take a seat on the extra chair in the room.

“what's the problem, wakatoshi-kun?” tendou asked worriedly.

“i think i'm sick.” he flat out said and placed a hand on his left chest.

“you're sick? you? of all people?” 

now tendou is even more surprised, ushijima who makes sure he's always in top condition is saying he's sick, then what about him who just checks his body and condition when needed or if his lazy soul went to get something in the underworld and his responsible party took over his body.

“my heart it's always beating fast whenever (y/n) is close or when she's talking to me, or even just standing there and doing nothing,” ushijima explained as if the world's crisis was in his hands.

tendou's shoulder deflated drastically. ‘that was it? i thought he really had an incurable disease.’

“no, wakatoshi-kun. you're ju—”

“do you think (y/n) is cursed?” he looked up at tendou with a rare terror in his eyes.

“what?” tendou blinked repeatedly.

“i overheard in the children in the park that if you look at someone and your heart beats fast that person is dying.” he explained, leaving tendou's mouth hanging open.

‘what's that? i never heard of something like that. what kind of things do kids these days talk about?’

he wanted to say that it's not true, but his playful side is overtaking his mind, and sadly he surrendered to it.

“why don't you tell that to (y/n) herself? if it’s that serious, then i think she has the right to know about it, at least.” he suggested.

right now, you just stepped into the gym and ushijima immediately walked to you with tendou watching from the sidelines.

“(y/n), i think you're going to leave the earth soon.” he said not even pausing. 

your eyes expanded, so as the other players close to you two.

“what kind of curse is that, ushijima?” you asked him and laughed awkwardly.

“i heard it from the children in the park.” he said looking you straight in the eyes.

you somehow breathe a relieved sigh. so it's just some kids' rumors.

“what did they say, ushijima?”

“they said that if you look at someone and your heart starts to beat fast then that person is dying.” he repeated what he heard.

“if that's true, then i guess my teacher would rest in peace too because i always get scared when i meet her eyes during recitations.” you said laughing. “wait— your heart beats fast when you look at me?” 

“yes, every time i look at you or close to me, also right now that i'm talking to you.” ushijima pointed out everything.

you heard gasps and 'wows' from the team after he said that, so the third years decided to step up, along with the perpetrator who plotted this.

“wakatoshi, that's not like that at all,” semi said, feeling second-hand embarrassment for their captain.

“what do you mean?” he asked.

“your heart beats fast, not because (y/n) is about to die, so stop killing her out of nowhere.” reon clarified.

“then, what is it?” the big man tilted his head in confusion.

“it's love!” both tendou and yamagata shout.

“love?” the four nodded their heads. “does that mean i am entranced by (y/n)?” and the four nodded again.

“what should i do?” ushijima looked at his friends.

“ask her out!” yamagata jumped, raising his hand. “give her chocolates first!” tendou added. “yeah, but what chocolate?” semi thought for a while. “let's just ask her,” reon suggested and they looked at you.

you gave them a half-hearted smile.

“oh. i thought you guys forgot that i'm still here.” you deadpanned them. “also, anything's fine, as long as it's from ushijima.” you answered and ran.

tsukishima kei

despite tsukishima walking confidently through the corridor of the school, his mind was a mess. well, the reason was today he was about to wait for you, just like how he usually did actually. 

but, right now yamaguchi wasn't here, who was supposed to be the reason he was waiting and then acted like he was just forced to be there.

he thought about a lot of scenes and how to respond to your every question, just so it wouldn’t come out that he was there on his own accord and that he was doing it against his will. he wasn’t not sure why he was getting this anxious over it, but he was ready.

but it turned out all his thinking was futile, because as soon as he arrived at your room, he saw oujiyama hideo from the tennis club talking to you. smiling and laughing with him like you’ve known each other for years.

when you looked at your door, you immediately picked up your things and bid farewell to oujiyama.

“my friend's already here. i'm going now.” you said and bowed to him since he's also a senior.

“okay.” he replied and flashed his usual flirty smile. you chuckled lightly at him.

“stop smiling at me like that.” you told him laughing, your eyes were rolling as well.

“haha, sorry sorry. it's a habit of mine.” he answered, making you laugh even more.

“what a nice habit of yours. smiling.” you were about to walk when you felt him ruffling your hair. “argh, stop it. i'm not a child anymore.” you grumble, trying to take his hand off of your head.

he was about to remove his hand, but someone did it first.

“ouch!” oujiyama clamored while caressing his now red hand. “what the hell?!” he turned his head and saw the 190 cm tall volleyball player.

“oh, sorry, there was a fly on the back of your palm.” tsukishima replied, smirking.

you turned around and saw tsukishima fixing the position of his specs using one hand while holding a goddamn fly swatter on the other.

“where the hell did you get that?!” you asked him, completely forgetting what he just did because of finding the most random item on his hand.

“i found it lying on the teacher's desk.” he answered, not sparing a glance to the person he just hit.

“your friend right there sure is violent, (y/n).” oujiyama noted, lightly grinning in annoyance. he tried to keep up his nice boy facade in front of this unknown guy who just swatted his hand.

“oh gosh. are you alright, hideo-niisan?” you alerted yourself when you finally noticed the redness on his skin.

“i'm not just her friend, i'm her boy— what? ‘nii-san?” tsukishima looked at you in shock.

“what? he's my first cousin and he’s older than me. of course, i'll call him that.” you said to him as you searched for the spray for redness in your bag and sprayed it into oujiyama's hand.

tsukishima froze.

‘wait. more importantly… did i just try to say that i'm (y/n)'s boyfriend?’ tsukishima was silent for a moment, before walking back, leaving the fly swatter on the table where he got it and headed to the door.

‘no way! that shorty? really…?’

“oi, wait for me!” you shouted at him and oujiyama just smirked that you immediately noticed. “what?” you asked, turning to him.

“no, it's just, now i know what he was thinking and did that.” he answered.

“that guy? me too.” you said that captured his attention.

“really?” he said a bit surprised.

“yeah. that guy is the reincarnation of cinderella's step-mother, so his villainous alter ego kicked in as soon as he saw that fly swatter.” you deduced shaking your head sideways repeatedly.

“mhm. yeah. i can see you don't understand at all.” he nodded.

“hm?” you hummed, failing to hear what he said.

“no, nothing. you should hurry and catch up to him.” he reminded you, making you widen your eyes.

“ah! see you later, nii-san! tsukishima!” you shouted as you ran towards the door.

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i hope you enjoyed it!

[ink-perfect]

short n sweet ⋆.

the air in the apartment was comfortably still, save for the faint sound of pages flipping. toji rested on the couch, haphazardly sprawled out, an arm draped lazily over his eyes. on the other side of the room was megumi, rifling through the old photo albums his father hadn’t bothered to sort out on the floor.

“dada, who’s this?” megumi’s voice broke the quiet, tone full of childish awe. 

toji grunted, barely lifting his arm. “what’re you lookin’ at now?”

megumi didn’t answer right away. instead, he turned the album toward his father, small fingers pointing to a polaroid in the corner of the page. toji squinted at first, unable to put together the picture—until he did.

the sight of you hit toji like a sucker punch, and his breath caught in his throat as his chest tightened with a sharp pang of a feeling all too familiar.

there you were, laughing at something he had said, eyes full of pure joy, head tilted just enough that the sunlight caught the edges of your silhouette. you looked like some sort of…angel, he thought to himself.

his gaze then shifted to the figure beside you—a younger version of himself. that version had his arm draped casually around your waist, his eyes casually admiring you, drinking in the sight of you like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

and damn it, toji couldn’t stop the sudden surge of jealousy he felt—jealousy of himself, that was. jealousy of the man he used to be, the one who could make you smile so big like that, who could say you were his without thinking twice.

jealousy of the man who hadn’t yet realised how lucky he was, and how much he would lose.

toji’s voice came out low, almost distant. “where’d you...where'd you find that, megs?”

megumi held up the album, oblivious to the weight in his father’s tone. “it was at the back of the book,” he said matter-of-factly. “who is it?”

“that’s…” toji dragged his gaze from the photo, but his heart still felt snagged on the image. he swallowed hard, muttering more to himself than to his son. 

“the one that got away.”

megumi tilted his head. “what does that mean?”

toji huffed a laugh, though it was shaky and lacked any humour. he leaned back into the couch like it could somehow ground him. “means i was an idiot, kid.”

the words didn’t explain much, but megumi didn’t push. he went back to flipping pages, though his glances toward his father lingered, curious but silent.

meanwhile, toji stared at the ceiling, his chest still tight with the weight of a memory that refused to fade. 

you. 

damn, he hadn’t seen that photo in years. it wasn’t just the picture itself—it was the way it brought you back, as clear and vibrant as if you were still standing in front of him.

you were a wild card from the start, the kind of person who could’ve gotten anyone tangled up in your orbit. but somehow, you had chosen him. you’d brought colour into his world without even trying, walking in with all that warmth and chaos you seemed to just carry around in your pocket.

he remembered the way your laugh could cut through the sharp edges of his world, filling spaces he didn’t even know were empty. the way you’d challenge him, fearless and unrelenting, like you were determined to pull him out of the shadows he’d lived in for so long. and damn it, you had. and for a little while, he’d let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, someone like him could deserve something like you.

but alas, he was who he was. and people like him didn’t get to keep things like you.

so he’d let you go. not because he didn’t love you—god, he’d loved you more than he ever let himself say—but because he was too afraid of what that love might cost.

toji closed his eyes, the weight of your memory welcoming him like an old, familiar friend after several long years. he didn’t need to open the album to see the photo anymore; it was etched into his mind, as your name was carved into his heart. 

“the one that got away,” he murmured again, this time so quietly that it was almost swallowed by the air.

across the room, megumi paused, glancing up from the album again. his young eyes searched his father’s face like he could sense there was more to the story, something bigger than the quiet words toji had offered. again, toji didn’t elaborate.

he just let his head fall back, closing his eyes, while the sound of turning pages filled the space again. because some things were too painful—and too beautiful—to explain.

© 𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓; est 2024.