#and i flirt back and forth with myself

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

eugh not a fan of my ex boyfriend excitedly going to tell our group that he has a crush on someone

[dnfity]

give us situationship stories 🙇‍♂️

indy lore under the cut cus this got really fucking long lmao

so one time in hs me and this boy (who was my boybestfriend at the time and who i would kiss in the girls changing room 😭) and this other girl we had mutual friends with signed up for a summer job where we would be camp counselors and it was a 1 month long camp during august. lets call the boy nick and the girl jamie idk. anyways all the staff met at a school and us along with the kids of the camp rode a bus to the camp. and we had this weird #jealousy thing going on so the whole ride there nick sat with jayme and would talk with her all while making eye contact with me occasionally.

when we got to the camp, the girl staff and boy staff were separated into different cabins. which means we couldnt see each other at night which means my ass would wake up at fucking 5am to spend time with this boy in the woods before all the work started for the day.

one day me and nick working on something together at a picnic table and then jayme comes up to us. and in front of me she goes, "are u guys dating?" and nick says no and then jayme and nick exchanged numbers right in front of me. (mind u me and nick have been in a situationship thing for over 6 months at this point where we kiss/have sex/say we love each other) so im a little mad. so then i ignore nick for the rest of the day. i also dont wake up at 5am the next day to meet up with him. so then he gets mad and starts talking walks in the wood with jayme. and so to get back at him i start being flirty with another guy counselor there and get his number. we start texting throughout the day and one day im sitting with nick during lunch while texting this other guy and hes like "who are u texting?" and im like "no one", but im like purposely giggling at my phone to get a reaction out of him.

anyways at the last day of the camp, nick takes me out into the woods and hes like, i wanna show u something. and im like, ok? and so we walk and he takes me all the way to the edge of a lake ive never been at before and the view is Beautiful. and he basically tells me he loves me and that he doesnt want jayme and that he only wants me and that im so special to him and all that.

and then a week later it was my bday and i was thinking of hosting a party and i invited him but he said he was spending time with his grandma who was sick. so then i was like, fuck it i dont wanna do the party anymore. so then me and some friends went to the town fair that was also going on that day and i saw him there with another girl LMAO

[strwbrrykthv]

you and katsuki who arent just friends. theres always prolonged eye contact and not so subtle touches. youre drawn to him at outings and hes drawn to you.

if youre not sitting in his lap at a party or bar youre right beside him and his hand is on you. it could be his hand on your thigh, your back, or sitting beside you just barely touching you with his finger tips. and if youre not within arms distance you never get out of his sight.

everyone in your friend group knows that you both are made for each other and constantly pick on him.

“bro if you dont make a move i might have to step up.” denki grins at katsuki as hes sitting in the booth watching you talk with mina at the bar.

“ha, id like to see you try”

denki perks up, slipping out of the booth and sauntering over to you and mina at the bar, “uh mina will you excuse us for a second i need to talk with this fine lady right here” your eyes immediately dart to katsukis as he lets out a huff of laughter at your reaction.

he finds it humorous that denki thinks any of his flirting will land with you. he hears denki call you the pet names katsuki himself calls you and watches as every time your eyes dart back to him saying so many unspoken words such as “did he just call me mama???” and “are you really just gunna sit there and let this happen?”

mina slips in the booth opposite katsuki and chuckles at him watching you with a smile, “you think you would be angry watching a guy try to flirt with your ‘not’ girl” using air quotes to mock him, “not enjoying it and even smiling.”

“well when she looks for me after every sentence its kinda hard to think she’s being moved by his useless flirting” he scoffs as you look over at him with another plea in your eyes.

he sighs sliding out of his side of the booth and making his way towards you. “denks, listen. im totally flattered, like, so much, but… uh..-“

“shes not interested.” katsuki says with a small smirk looping his arm around your waist as you instinctively lean into him. you hook a finger into his nearest belt loop to hold him near.

“oh,” denki raises both hands defensively looking back and forth between the two of you. “hey man, look. i get it, totally. ill leave you two alone. dont kill me,” he says with a grin sending katsuki a not so subtle wink.

katsuki lets out a small laugh through his nose “mhmm, now why dont you go flirt with ears instead.” denki immediately stiffens, nodding his head before spinning around and speed walking to jiriou.

katsuki spins you to face him, moving his hand from your hip to your back, your finger still hooked into his belt loop. “tell me everything he told you. if he said something nasty ill kill him.”

you laugh looking into his eyes. you would think that they would be full of jealousy and harshness after watching a man flirt with the girl hes in love with, but his eyes were soft around the edges shimmering in the low light of the bar.

“oh you know, just the usual ‘im a pro hero, i can take good care of you, mama’, but i dont know why he called me mama. you only call me mama when youre tipsy and by then hes close to being blacked out” you ramble.

katsuki lowers his head to rest his forehead on your shoulder so that he can have his full attention on your voice traveling into his good ear. he loves the way you recite the whole exchange. the whole exchange between you and denki only about three minutes but dang can that guy talk.

“-and thats when you came over and rescued me” you say as katsuki raises his head.

“i saw a pretty mama in destress and couldnt help myself” he chuckles as you tilt your head so you can side eye him. a small commotion at the booth he was once sitting at draws both of your attention as denki yells across the bar to both of you, “hey! were going out to karaoke now, sero thinks he can beat me. yall wanna come?”

before katsuki can even roll his eyes and decline his offer youre pulling him by his belt loop to the group, “sure! i can whoop some tail in karaoke. whaddaya think katsu?”

“i think im too sober for this” he grumbles as the group exits the bar to head to karaoke with you and him in the back, your finger in his belt loop and his arm slung across your shoulders.

do no plagiarize or copy.

edit: i did the karaoke scene! 🩷

i had an idea for karaoke bkg but had to lead up to it first. this is my first time with writing convos and not just whats going on lol. lmk what you guys think!!

[lostalioth]

𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡

→ premise: logan was obsessed, he was from the moment he met you. he didn’t get crushes, but you’ve turned the big bad wolverine into a depraved puppy and he’s had enough.

→ pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

→ warnings: 2k words, smut | 18+, obsession [not dark, just like a big crush, idk how to actually write obsession well], belly bulge, unprotected sex, nicknames [baby, princess, pretty girl], creampie, I visualized like x1-3 logan when writing but you can imagine whichever logan era.

→ a/n: kinktober 09

Logan was utterly obsessed, entranced by your entire being. If he didn’t already know what your mutation was, he'd swear you were a witch that cast a love spell on him so he goes starry eyed and dulcet when you walk in a room. He wasn't the kind of man to get crushes, he did one night stands to satiate his needs and yet now he can't bring himself to want anybody but you.

You and your pretty eyes that sparkle when you look at him and flutter your eyelashes to get what you want. You and your tendency to brush against him or run your hand down his arm when you walk around him making his brain go fuzzy and getting him all flustered. The whole team could see how smitten and enthralled he was with you, mocking him and calling him a love sick puppy especially when you go away on mission and he mopes around the mansion. He’s had enough of the little flirting back and forth and nothing coming of it, he was desperate for you and his crush was only getting stronger as the months went on.

You had just gotten back from a short mission with Storm and Jean when before you could even say hi to everybody Logan is grabbing your hand and pulling you away down the hall. “eh- hey! Lo slow down” you squeal out as he drags you along behind him, heart racing at the feeling of his fingers intertwined with your own. The nickname you've resorted to calling him as the two of you have gotten closer makes his ears ring. He loved when you called him Lo you were the only one allowed to, anybody else who tired got glared at.

“Need to talk to ya’ now, right now” he grumbled out, his signature, you swore permanent grumpy scowl plastered on his face. He continues to tug you down the long hall towards your bedroom. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion at where he's taking you. Pushing open your door, he turns around and yanks you inside. Shutting the door, his body now facing you. His grip on your hand is still tight, he didnt wanna let go especially not when you haven't said anything about the fact he’s practically holding your hand.

“What is it? Is everything okay Lo?” You question in that sweet concerned voice you give him when he tells you he didn't sleep well because of another nightmare. “Do you want me?” He blurts out so fast the words practically blend together. You think you hear his question and it makes your head spin in more confusion but you needed him to repeat it. “What’d you say” you question as your gaze stays fixed on Logan, his own glued to your face watching for reactions. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves he starts again “Do you want me?” He questions in a slower softer tone.

Now your head really was spinning and slick settled in your core at his wording, he wasn't asking if you liked him, no he was asking if you WANTED him. your eyes that were on him are now darting around the room like it's the most fascinating thing. Through the fogginess of your brain all you can manage to eat out is a “What..?”

Pushing forward Logan backs your body up against your shut bedroom door, his frame looming over you and blocking you in. The hand that is not entangled with yours comes up to your chin to grab it and make you look at him. “Do. You. Want. Me? I'm not repeatin’ myself again pretty girl” he growls out, punching out each word of his question. He was losing his patience especially after the sweet scent of your arousal fills his nostrils and makes his cock twitch. “Cause i want you princess, have wanted you for fuckin’ months. And it's killing me, you’re killin’ me pretty girl” he groans out in frustration.

“Do you even know what you do to me? What my crush on you is doin’ to me princess? All our flirting and lingering looks, everybody always mocking me for how I act round you” he continues to ramble on, pulling your face closer to his as he waits on an answer to at least one of his questions.

“Yes..i want you Lo” you mumble out breathlessly and low. A big lopsided smirk spreads on Logan’s face as your words register in his head. “What was that baby?” He teases, needing you to repeat it just so he can hear it again.

“I want you Logan, really fucking bad” you whine out as your core aches for attention, your hips gravitate towards his to push against him. “Shit- fuck it” he groans out and grabs ahold of your waist and crashes his lips agaisnt yours, he knew the two of you should’ve gone back to the team. You needed to give Charles a debrief of the mission but Logan could care less at the moment. You kiss him with the same amount of passion and fever as your arms wrap around his neck pressing your chest to his. You hum and moan into the kiss sending vibrations through Logan’s body and straight to his confined cock that was begging to be released. “Jump and wrap ya’ legs around me baby” he instructed, his words mumbled against your lips but clear enough for you to understand. Jumping up a bit, Logan catches you by grabbing onto your ass as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Atta girl princess” you smile against his lips at the praise while he walks the two of you over to your plush bed.

Laying you down on your back, he keeps his body between your spread thighs as his mouth pulls away from yours and drifts down to kiss at your neck. His hard cock pressed right up against your leaking cunt in this position, his large hands rubbing and groping all over your body. Running over your hips and waist, palming over your tits and grabbing at your ass, anywhere his hands can reach, indulging in the fact you're allowing him to touch you like this. “Mhmm Lo, baby please i need you” you whine out and buck your hips against his, grinding your core against his bulge. “Yeah? Whatcha need baby? Huh princess? Use your words” he doesnt pull away from your neck, continuously kissing it and along your collarbones and chest as you were wearing a low cut top, even sucking and biting at your skin to form hickeys.

”Need you, need you to fuck me Lo please” you whimper out and tug at the wasit band of his jeans as well as push up at his white tank top. “Yeah i can do that baby fuck” he grunts out and sucks in a breath, a shiver going down his back when you strach at his lower stomach and happy trail. The feeling of your hands on his bare skin makes his body tingle and skin feel on fire.

His movements are frantic as he is quick to strip off his shirt and yours. Pulling your pants down and off your legs alongside your panties, leaving your bare pussy exposed to the cool air. “Oh fuck~ shes so pretty” he mumbled out under his breath seemingly to himself, you werent sure if it was aimed at your cunt or you. in his haste he just barely pushes his jeans and boxers down enough to free his cock. His throbbing cock springs free, making you gasp at his size, he didn't feel nearly as big when it was hidden as he looks now. His cock long and so deliciously thick that it has your mouth watering wanting a taste. You knew your jaw would burn to accommodate his size; you couldn't imagine your cunt fitting him. “Lo i don't know if it’ll fit” you whine out, looking into his lust blown eyes with concern.

“Pretty girl if you’re as wet as ya’ smell i’ll slip right in” he chuckles softly, grabbing himself at the base and nudging his mushroom tip to open your slit and rub it through your soaked folds. Your slick collects and mixes with the precum leaking from his cock lubing up his shaft and tip. Your hole clenches around nothing everytime he brushes over it making your hips twitch and thrust up trying to get him to push inside already.

“Mmm Lo..please just fuck me already” you whine out and squirm. His brows furrowed in concentration, gaze locked on where your bodies meet, trying his hardest not to already blow his load as he lines his tip up at your entrance. Just rubbing over your pussy with his cock was causing his balls to tighten, your pussy felt heavenly and addicting. This moment was 10 times better than any of the hundreds of wet dreams he had late at night where he’d wake up with a wet spot forming in his sweats.

He lets out a broken gasp that morphs into a string of curses when he finally slowly pushes into the wet heat of your cunt. “Oh fuck~ shes already squeezin’ me so tight baby” he grunts as he finally bottoms out buried to the hilt, his hips wasting no time in finding a rymth and thrusting deep inside you. the sting of your pussy stretching to take his cock makes your head go hazy, eyes screwing shut in bliss.

You clench around him and Logan cant stop himself from thrusting harder and faster, a slurred pussy-drunk mess of sentences fall from his mouth.

“Fuck youre so hot princess, s’good for me” “Cant believe ya’ letting me do this to you, fuckin’ you like this” “Dreamt’ bout’ this for so long, been fuckin’ obsessed with ya’ for forever” he whines out in a long run on setenace as his hips slam against yours, the filthy squelching sound of your cunt and your moans and whimpers fill the air in your room. You didn't care that you were being loud enough that anyone who walked past your door would definitely hear you and know what was going on. the knowledge of that seemed to be spurring both you and Logan on more.

His eyes are locked at where your bodies are connected, his cock creating a bulge in your lower stomach every time he thrusts all the way in. “Fuck baby, look at that, my cock s’big its making a bulge when im buried inside” he groans out and presses down on your lower stomach making your cunt clench down harder on him, your body trying to milk his release out of him. Tipping your head down you open your eyes to watch as his cock thrusts in and out of your throbbing pussy, his tip driving right into that spot deep inside you making you see stars. That spongy spot that your toys could never reach just right when Logan would get you all worked up with his flirting, not like his cock currently is.

“M’gonna cum Lo- baby, Fuck- mhm~ wanna cum with you please” you moan out, your sentence coming out broken up as your climax was teetering on the edge. “Im gonna cum too baby don’t worry pretty girl” he hissed out as his fingers dig into your hips, his own flattering in there thrusting as his cock twitches inside you. “Cum on my cock princess, gonna fill this pretty up makin’ it all mine-” you cut off his sentence by grabbing ahold of the back of his neck, pulling his face down to kiss him desperately.

“Already all yours Lo, i been yours the whole time” you whine against his lips as your high washes over you, cumming on his cock as his thrusts speed up one last time.

Your cream coating his cock acts to further lube up his thick cock as it jackhammers into you, before your cunt milks Logan’s cum out of him in thick ropes that fill you. “Ya’ 100 percent all mine now baby” he hums into your mouth, lazily kissing you while he catches his breath, your hips grinding on his cock as you both ride out your highs.

→ a/n: fully meant to post this yesterday but i barely had anything written for it then and couldnt bring myself to write more. Im doing better than I’ve done the past 3 years with kinktober tho, gotten further than any other times.

[vrystalius]

How they show love — bg3

A tribute to the last patch of bg3 and in honour of starting my 12th playthrough (I haven’t finished a single one so far)

Pairing: Astarion, Gale, Gortash, Raphael (+Haarlep) x gn!reader

Summary: How do they express their love for you, their love language and a bonus scenario.

Genre: Fluff, slightly suggestive in parts

Words: 4.1k

Note: this is kinda popping off soo if you’re interested in receiving a written letter by your favourite character, I’m hosting a small event on my blog and anyone can participate!

(Not ascended)

Astarion Ancunín // The Pale Elf

Words — 1k

Nibbling and biting.

This one is quite obvious. Although Astarion sinks his fangs into your neck every now and then to enjoy a treat, he also enjoys nibbling on you just because. His favourite areas to do so are your hands and fingers, shoulder and cheek. Biting your fingers in boredom when you are in bed with him, in his arms, you not paying attention to him while flipping pages through a book.

What else is he supposed to do other than take your free hand and nibble on your finger while silently brooding about you being oh so busy. Your hand is also a pleasant alternative.

Your shoulder feels like the perfect place to trail featherlight kisses followed by small nibbles here and there, firm enough for you to arch into them but soft enough to not make you bleed. He doesn’t always have the need to chomp down and suck your blood out, you know.

That’s why Astarion sometimes leans down, bites and pull on your cheek a little instead of placing a small kiss. It’s silly, but it makes you giggle and wince in surprise so that’s perfect reason to keep doing it, especially when you expect a kiss and not him to bite you.

“I can’t help myself dear. You are too delicious for me to resist, with or without blood, although a little snack would be a good bonus. If you’ll let me…”

Words of affirmation and/or sweet nothings.

You are used to Astarion flirting with you all day and night, but you notice how they slowly became less and less shameless and more sincere, in a way. Not that they weren’t sincere before.

His eyes soften as they glaze over your face, his hands hesitating to reach out and run through your hair while your head rests on his chest, his lip quivering as he hesitates to speak his mind. Astarion’s brain is foggy from all the warmth and fuzziness pooling in his stomach and his heart racing uncontrollably from you simply being here. His mouth begins to talk without him having control over it.

His words may be flirty and sultry but you can tell that they aren’t just flattery. He rambles about how incomprehensibly gorgeous you are, how your info dumping and intelligence is unbearably attractive and how he could listen to you all day, how your eyes resemble the starry night sky, your grin that could make him fold over in an instant and so many other things he cannot get out of his damn brain about you.

Damn you for making him utterly weak and stupid for you.

“I cannot stop my damn mouth around you. It’s— Stop grinning at me like that! I can’t concentrate when you do that, darling.”

Physical touch.

At first, Astarion forced himself to constantly touch you. It felt good for you and for him, sure, but he mostly pushed himself to touch and feel you in order to make you feel seen and loved by him. He did it in order to get protection and support from you against Cazador and whatever other horrors come across your way. But after unfortunately falling head over heels for you, touching you is something he cannot go without.

His hand always lingers on your back for support, your waist to pull you closer and show to everyone with that you are his and he is yours, holding your hand while strolling the streets and roads and almost childishly swinging your arms back and forth like a happy-giddy couple. Letting himself get pulled into your arms after a long day in the privacy of his closed off tent and cuddling closely against you is probably the closest Astarion ever got and will get to pure bliss.

His cheek getting squished by being pressed up against your chest, his hands tightly gripping your waist as if fearing you might disappear on him. There is a soft, giddy grin spreading on his face.

Bonus scenario.

You thought he did it on purpose at first— After all, he is a vampire spawn and you can tell that his bloodlust overpowers him every now and then, but Astarion genuinely looks panicked as the flesh of your hand begins to bleed slightly, two holes buried into the skin right below your thumb. You watch as your boyfriend rushed around his tent to grab a cloth and wipe the blood.

“Astarion, I’m fine—“ He shushed you by holding his finger up while facing your back before finally spinning around on his heel and presenting the hand-embroidered handkerchief he had been worming on during the quiet evenings in camp. Immediately and without hesitation, he pressed the delicate cloth against your wound.

His face was etched in guilt and worry. “I’m so sorry darling, I didn’t mean the bite to be so…” You noticed how his eyes drifted away from how the blood began to soak the handkerchief. “It was meant to be harmless, I swear!”

“I know, I know.” Your free hand cupped his cheek and your lover immediately leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as his features softened slightly. You can tell how much it ripped him apart in the inside despite it being such a little injury, you know how Astarion always is careful with his biting when doing it on you, respecting your boundaries and always asking for consent beforehand. He would never, ever hurt you in any way. And yet he just did.

“It happens, it’s okay. I’m not seriously hurt.”

Lifting the cloth off your wound yourself and revealed how the blood already began to dry. His eyes drifted back to the puncture wound in your hand. His lip quivered. “I…”

“I’m still sorry. I should’ve been more careful.” Astarion watched your face, expecting some kind of negative reaction. Fear, anger, anything really. Instead, you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

A wave of affection hit him the same way the club of an angry orc would, but it was much more pleasant. He huffed and angled your face for him to kiss you properly.

(Mortal)

Gale Dekarios // The Wizard of Waterdeep

Words — 1.1k

Info-dumping and rambling.

If there is a new topic Gale has been exploring and reading about, you will definitely hear all about. Probably more than once, too.

Before you Tara was the victim of his endless info-dumping, him gesturing around and doing his eureka! pose every now and then while proudly explaining how he already inhaled every piece of literature there is about this new topic. Now you are his victim.

Gale feels a little insecure about it though, afraid he might be boring or annoying you. So, you’ll have to assure and encourage him and make it known that you do want to know how you can reason and communicate with some mimics to the point of making them non-hostile. He adores to have his head rest on your lap while your hand fiddle with some loose strands of hair, him rambling on and on about something he happened to come across in the library today.

Since you tolerate his rambling so well, he’ll of course listen to yours with eagerness. Gale’s eyes twinkle slightly as he watches you talk, noting every movement in your face and hand, how the edges of your eyes crease a little when you explain a particularly fun fact to him. His heart flutters to see you being so passionate about something, sometimes he can’t help himself but let that affection out and give you a cheeky little kiss while you are distracted by talking, causing you to be completely thrown off and now confused on where you left on.

Gale also loves debating with you. The topics could range from when does a powerful wizard begin to live off cheese and wine to if eating a tressym’s wings be considered as fried bird, fried cat or fried tressym (although Tara was quite offended by that debate you held). He likes talking about nothing and everything about you and might just seek excuses to hear your voice. Getting the opportunity to info-dump about his interests is a mere bonus.

Gifts and trinkets.

Whenever he stops by the library or market, you have to physically withhold him from wandering off and going after that shiny twinkle he just saw from the edge of his eyes, in his mind already having hundreds of ideas on what it might be and if you would like it.

Gale has a habit of hoarding things in his wizard tower, but after getting his orb and getting rid of most the weave infused artefacts, he now had space for more trinkets: things that remind him of you.

Your wizard begins bringing you something every time he comes back from somewhere. Sometimes it’s a book from the library he thought might interest you, sometimes it’s jewerly Gale thought might fit most your outfits, but every now and then it’s a shiny rock he found in the corner of a street. He thought the colour resembled your eye colour and the way it shone in the sun almost blinded him, just how you blind him with love every time you’re near.

It’s silly but at least half the shelves are now filled with shiny rocks, books and a newly acquired wooden figure of a goat he found at the market. Gale said your stubbornness and persistence reminded him of one and didn’t get why you found it a little offensive to get compared to one.

“Whatever are you talking about? Goats are very graceful creatures and so are you! I find it quite the accurate comparison on my part.”

Physical touch and cuddles.

There is nothing better in the world than melting against your warm body after a good glass of wine and being surrounded by tombs, scrolls and books all day and Tara being curled up by your feet. His hand lazily tracing your waist and sneakily finding their way between your legs. Not for any improper reason, just to warm his hands up.

Speaking of your thighs, Gale is this close to begging on his hands and knees for a chance to have his rest between your plush flesh. The feeling of gently being squished while his fingers busy themselves by drawing intricate patterns across your skin or simply interlock with yours. Your wizard considers cuddling as some way of recharging his energy, both arcane and bodily.

He needs his morning cuddles before starting his day, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck while you brew some coffee or him refusing to let you leave the bed by positioning himself on top of you. He sneaks himself into your daily routine and tries not to interrupt whatever you are doing right while scooting himself right next to you, his chin on your shoulder while Gale watches you do whatever.

Also, thanks to you, this man can’t ever sleep without having you in his arms ever again. You spoiled him too much, he complains. Your body perfectly fitting together against his like it was always meant to be. But that also means whenever you get up in the middle of the night for some water, Gale is right behind you, sleepily following your steps.

“I can’t sleep without you, might’ve as well follow, right?”

Bonus scenario.

You did insist that your boyfriend should’ve stayed in bed while you dragged yourself to the kitchen for a glas of water. It’s not even early morning and the sun was still well below the horizon and yet Gale followed close behind. It kind of reminded you a cat that followed you into the bathroom in the middle of the night for no reason other than making sure you don’t get attacked by mice or something.

“Mhh. What time is it?” Gale scratched his chin sleepily as he leaned against the counter next to you. You shrugged and sipped your glass of water. He opened his eyes and glanced over to you, his arms slowly wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his oh so warm body.

You melted right into him, a groan escaping your throat as you buried your face in his hot neck, allowing yourself to take a deep breath. His scent was familiar.

Your eyes slowly drooped close and you felt yourself almost let the glass slip out of your hand but before it could, you placed it on the counter behind your very sleepy wizard.

As you did, your hands began to wander and trace the warm muscles of his back. You noticed how they have softened over time. After everything that had happened you and him began to live a more comfortable life without the need to lift a sword, or rather, a wizard staff.

Before you could point the softening muscles, how much you appreciate your life with him, how silly it is to think about what you went through together mere months ago, a snore interrupted your thoughts.

Did Gale fall asleep leaning against the cabin with you in arms? Seriously? And snoring like that as well?

And he is always the one that complained about your snoring.

Enver Gortash // Chosen of Bane

Words — 1k

Gift giving.

He literally cannot help himself for the love of the gods. Enver, as he ordered you to call him, swears he is not actively seeking for gifts to shower you in, they just come to him. Or are being brought to him by his Steel Watch and others.

Whatever had your attention for more than a fraction of a second you can expect to stare back at you in an instant, now presented on your nightstand or bed instead of the boutique you saw it in or the catalogue you flipped through. Somehow he always knows what you fancy without even needing to speak to him.

Enver also tends to send you little handmade trinkets during especially long and stressful periods of him being away. Despite what he likes to think himself, he doesn’t always work on papers in his office. When the files pile up and glare at him disapprovingly, Enver turns to the mini broken machinery tucked away in his desk and begins tinkering with it, working and trying new things out until it finally functions again.

Or he makes it look prettier and that it was before and lets it be delivered to you. Little reminder that he always thinks of you. He totally didn’t squeeze a miniature scrying eye into at least one of the trinkets to spy on you.

“Oh, it is nothing. Mere small tokens of my affection, no need to dwell on them.

Inserting himself into everything you do and annoying you.

Like a toddler, Enver follows you around and tries to insert himself into everything you do to try and stay close to you.

Cooking yourself a snack in the kitchen? You’ll feel his chin on your shoulder as he stared down at what you are cooking. “Give me a piece of that.”

In the bathroom to take a quick shower? He is already behind the curtain and turning the water on, filling the room with steam.

God forbid you are in bed, alone without anyone to cuddle onto? Yeah, you best believe he immediately sneaks up on you and makes sure you won’t be able to physically leave this bed, not until you pry his arms off your body. Enver is like a cat, he doesn’t openly ask for affection most of the time but invades your personal space whenever he wants to silently ask for it.

Besides acting a little child when wanting your attention and affections, Enver also enjoys showing you how much he loves you by purposefully annoying you a a little. He pokes your cheek over and over when you’re busy and watches you get more and more upset with his teasing until you finally slap his finger away. How unfairly you are treating him— Enver has been nothing but good to you!

“I’m simply making my presence known to you since you failed to acknowledge it until now. You shouldn’t be annoyed, rather happy to see me, love.”

Physical touch.

You know well that your lover is sleep deprived, dehydrated, touch starved, affection starved and whatever else you can be physically deprived off. You seem to fix all of these problems by simply slipping into his arms and using his soft chest as comfortable pillows and your legs tucked between his warm legs. Enver can’t suppress the blissful grin spreading on his face and couldn’t fight his eyelids slowly drooping close, his chin resting on your head.

He could remain like this for hours, days, in some form of hibernation. But he can’t. His duties are calling.

So, he’ll take you with to his office to continue the cuddles. You’ll be comfortably seated on his lap as he writes and flips through papers. The situation isn’t even sexually charged as in you are perfectly seated on his lap in a way that could make him moan and thighs shiver, rather you are there so he can take little breaks by hiding his face in your neck and groaning in frustration every now and then.

Sometimes he’ll be too tired to cuddle, so Enver’ll rind where you are currently resting and just laying down on top of you, letting his weight slightly crush you beneath him. He is a selfish man and needs his daily (hourly, really) head pats, hair strokes and back scratches.

Bonus scenario.

You felt Enver’s stare drill itself into your skull. You were just brushing your teeth and examining yourself in the bathroom mirror and getting ready for bed. You tried to ignore the looming presence behind you as much as you tried to avoid looking directly at him in the mirror.

“Are you ignoring me?” You heard the amusement in his voice. Yes you are trying to ignore him because of how much he has been getting on your nerves today, purposefully interrupting your doings, asking you to meet him in private and pulling you away from duties just for him to ask you to kiss him. A child is what he is.

“My love.” Enver called out again, now moving to stand beside you. His eyes never left your face. You didn’t spare him a single glance.

“Darling.” He started again. “Or do you want me to call you kitten?”

That one made you shoot him a glare. Aha! A reaction. Enver smirked at himself and lifted his hand, his index finger now reaching out to pole your cheek but before he could touch you, you gently pushed his hand away. But not backing down, he reached out again.

“Gortash.” You scolded and turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yes? That is my name.” Completely unbothered, he mirrored your pose to mock you almost. There was that shit-eating smirk on his face you are all too familiar with and the one you can’t help but let it get to you. You couldn’t fight your own grin that was fighting itself to appear on your face.

“Aha. A reaction. I was looking for that.” He grinned and lifted your chin with a small nudge beneath your chin before leaning in for a quick kiss on your lips.

Raphael // The Devil (cambion)

Words — 1k

Quality time.

Raphael’s time is valuable and choosing it to spend it with you should make you happy enough.

But alas, merely basking in your presence and getting drunk of your affections sometimes isn’t enough, so Raphael takes you out to fancy restaurants in different cities all across Faerûn and spoils you with a colourful, expensive cuisine. Afterwards he’d suggest to get some wine and enjoy it somewhere else together, maybe go back to the House of Hope and play some rounds of Lanceboard together.

He would never admit it to you but being adorably domestic with you and sipping some wine while talking about nothing important is one of his favourite things to do, ever.

Besides restaurants and wine, your cambion will ask if you’d be interest in going out to watch theatre plays. How can you possibly deny him when Raphael keeps reciting quotes and scenes, trying to sway you into finally giving in. It’s kind of endearing watching Raphael’s eyes light up once you finally agree.

Raphael enjoys spending his time outside of his House of Hope, partly because he knows that you, as a mortal, probably don’t want to spend all your time down in Avernus, so he’ll prefer to take you out on dates on the surface.

“If you’ll have me, I would love to take you out on a lovely play being held in Baldur’s Gate. I believe you could enjoy it as much as I will.”

Acts of service.

Raphael may spoil you with acts of service but those are not without strings— He’ll expect something back in return, things like a kiss on his cheek, a compliment or your time to spend on him.

His “services” consist of him hand-tailoring infernal contracts for people that have mildly annoyed you in the past, people you may not even remember. Raphael will make sure they will work as slaves in his house personally serving you for the rest of eternity.

He maybe is enjoying eliminating and enslaving your ex-lovers, people you mildly dislike, people you despite and whoever else he can get his fingers on a little too much, don’t you think?

Also, Raphael tends to be very theatrical when hosting future contractees and souls he might strike a contract with. But with you, he is actually sincerely caring. He pulls out a chair for you, he pours you a beverage before even needing to ask, he remembers every single detail on foods you like and dislike and just the way you like it. Raphael will always serve you like you are royalty.

“Sit. Eat. Drink. Let the world and everyone in it kneel for you, my love. You deserve nothing lesser.”

Physical affection.

Raphael enjoys your touch the most. Simple things like holding your hand and prying it off whatever you are holding when they are not available, having his hand rest on your waist during outings and his tail subconsciously wrapping around your ankles when he is not even paying any mind to you. He craves your closeness, no matter if he wants to or not.

If he can’t provide with his own body and cuddle you up, he’ll send Haarlep to do his bidding.

Haarlep more than willingly curls up in your lap and shields you with their wings as their arms snake around you. They might let their hands wander and get a little touchy with you, but after putting the incubus in their place and giving them a piece of your mind, Harleep will obey and simply serve as a cuddle pillow and replacement for his master. Almost a little too enthusiastically, one could think.

But at the end of the day only Raphael will banish the incubus from your shared bedroom and will affectionately-force you to satiate his need for your touch. He is never the little spoon though, the devil would never give up his position as the big spoon and loose the opportunity to create a make-shift cocoon with his leathery wings trapping you against him.

It was your biggest mistake to not go and use the bathroom beforehand, Raphael will never let you go now, not unless you sprinkle holy water on him or something.

“Where did you— No! Put that flask down you harlot! How did you smuggle holy water into my home?!-“

Bonus scenario.

You felt squished. Sandwiched. A little crushed but kind of pleasantly so.

Raphael had his arms wrapped around your your stomach as you snuggly fit into his hold, against his chest. You felt the infernal heat radiating off his body and his tail having its tight hold on your ankle. Does he even know that his tail was clinging itself onto you?

You weren’t really paying attention to that though with Haarlep clinging against your front. It was comfortably pressing itself against your torso, its race snuggled against your chest. Their eyes were closed in bliss while their hands gently massaged your thighs. Now, how did you manage to convince Raphael to allow his incubus to snuggle up against you like you are theirs and theirs only?

Then again you could sense how the owner of the House of Hope silently brooding behind you and having his face nuzzled into your shoulder while Haarlep happily purred against your supple skin.

“Oh, I have been missing out on this. I didn’t think he’d be so lenient with me.” Haarlep was clearly testing the waters on how far he can go before his master strikes him down and throws his body into the Styx. Raphael lifted his head slightly and raised his brow, shooting him a warning glare.

“Both of you better behave.” You sighed, one hand leaning back to cup Raphael’s cheek while the other was busy running fingers through Haarlep’s hair. Again, the incubus purred and smirked against your skin.

This is something you could get used to.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

Ngl I’ve also been in the mood for some Cyberpunk again. Also I’m also trying my very hardest to do a Durge run but I always end up starting another playthrough after the goblin camp 😭😭 I’m trying to stay strong for the extra voicelines and scenarios and stuff for Gortash but I’ve never been strong enough so far 😔 also I was this close to including ketheric throm on this list

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Tame care of yourselves! Happy late Easter if you celebrate.

[sirxaibs]

Sanji Vinsmoke X Reader

Gimme Some Advice

masterlist

Synopsis: Me when I yearn. Me and I yearn but have a healthy relationship with my friends and knows not to be jealous but still allow myself to feel things

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ You were sprawled out on a sun chair, kicking your legs back and forth and humming a random tune to yourself, still feeling giddy from the delicious meal Sanji had served earlier. Your hair fluttered in the wind, and your bright eyes scanned the open sea until

BAM. “[Y/N]!”

Sanji came flying across the deck like a torpedo, arms flailing for balance as he skidded to a halt in front of you. His shirt was untucked, cigarette barely hanging on his lip, and a wild, borderline panicked look in his eyes. You blinked. “…You okay there, Romeo?”

Sanji bent over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. “I I need your help.”

Your brows lifted with curiosity and amusement. “What, did Luffy eat the last cookie again and you’re plotting revenge?”

“No, this is serious!”

You sat up straighter, suppressing a grin. “Okay, okay. What is it?”

Sanji straightened, brushed back his hair dramatically, and looked at you with those swirly, golden eyes as if he were about to confess some great truth.

“I need you to tell me… how to pull a woman.”

You stared at him.

Then burst into laughter. “I’m sorry what?”

Sanji flushed, his hands flying up. “I know! I know it sounds ridiculous coming from me, but I swear I’m being serious. Dead serious.”

You giggled, slapping a hand over your mouth. “Sanji, my darling, you throw yourself at women like it’s a sport. If flirting were a martial art, you’d be a black belt.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” Sanji groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It doesn’t work. I mean, not really. They just giggle or wave me off like I’m some harmless breeze. None of them take me seriously. And I I want to be taken seriously. Just once.”

You quieted at that, your expression softening. “Oh, Sanji…”

He sighed, leaning back against the rail, his face turned to the sea. “There’s this girl. Not someone on this ship,” he added quickly, glancing at you. “She’s kind and funny and strong. But when I talk to her, I get so nervous I just default to… you know.”

“the pathetic lover boy routine not enough for you?” you said innocently, batting your lashes.

Sanji shot you a look, lips twitching despite himself. “Yes, that.”

You hopped off the chair and padded toward him, poking his chest lightly. “Okay, lover boy. Let’s get one thing straight: You’re not failing because you flirt. You’re failing because you flirt like a cartoon heart attack. There’s nothing authentic about it..”

He blinked at you. “…Huh?”

You grinned. “There's nothing I'm complaining about, though. I think it's really cute. The best kind of complement is the one that sounds like you didn’t rehearse it a hundred times in the mirror.”

Sanji looked thoughtful. “But what if I mess up? Say something stupid?”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Sanji, you do say something stupid every single time you meet a woman and they still smile at you. Imagine what would happen if you were just… you. The sweet, reliable, passionate, incredible cook who makes the best damn meals on the sea and puts his heart into everything he does.” Sanji’s ears turned pink. You leaned in, voice teasing. “That Sanji? That guy’s dreamy.”

He sputtered, waving smoke away from his cigarette. “S Stop saying things like that. I’m trying to focus!”

You giggled, twirling a lock of your hair. “Fine, fine. You want real advice?”

“Please.”

“Okay.” You folded your arms and nodded. “Step one: Calm down. You don’t need to win someone’s heart in ten seconds. Stop making it a performance and start making it a conversation.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay…”

“Step two: Ask her questions. Not just compliments. Be curious about who she is, not just how she looks.”

“Right…”

“And step three,” you said, tapping his forehead, “don’t chase. Just be. If she likes you, she’ll come closer. And if she doesn’t… you don’t need to change who you are to impress her.”

Sanji looked down at you genuinely, for a moment no exaggerated grin, no dramatic swoon. “You really think that’ll work?”

You smiled warmly. “I know it will. You’ve already got everything you need. You just need to believe someone could fall for you”

He stared at you in silence for a moment. “You’d make a hell of a love doctor, [Y/N].”

“I take payment in dessert,” you winked.

Sanji chuckled softly, then took a final drag of his cigarette and tossed it overboard. “Right away madamoiselle”

You shrugged playfully. “Good boy now go do your thing” As he turned to head back to the kitchen, you called after him, “Sanji?” He glanced back, his usual grin starting to sneak back into place. You smiled. “The right girl? She’ll see you. Just give her the chance.”

He gave you a mock salute. “Then I’ll make sure I’m someone worth seeing.” with that, he vanished into the galley.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡The world was quiet tonight. The sea whispered gently against the hull of the Thousand Sunny, and the breeze that swept through the ship’s open deck was crisp, carrying the smell of salt and the faintest trace of spices from the galley below. The crew had all gone off to their own little corners of the ship some reading, some napping, and others chattering softly out of earshot.

You lay in the middle of the main deck, arms stretched out to your sides, eyes wide open to the tapestry of stars overhead. The wind moved through your hair, playing with strands like it was trying to keep you company. But the real comfort came from just a few feet away Brook sat atop a crate, bathed in the soft, swaying light of the lanterns above, his long bony fingers gliding across the strings of his violin.

It wasn’t his usual upbeat, silly melody the ones he played to make Chopper dance or to accompany some skull joke. No, this was something else. Something soft. Thoughtful. The kind of song that didn’t need lyrics to speak. It trickled into your chest like warm tea in cold hands. It held something gentle and aching in every note. You stared at the stars, your lashes still and unmoving. Your chest rose and fell in time with the music. And somewhere between the quiet and the chords, your mind drifted to him.

Sanji.

You let the name echo in your thoughts. You didn’t try to chase it away. You smiled faintly. He had fallen for someone. You didn’t know her. You didn’t need to. You could tell by the way he spoke, by the way he looked different lately. Softer, more grounded. Less dramatic for show, and more… sincere. Like there was someone he genuinely wanted to be better for. And gods, it was so like him. That hopeless romantic heart of his. That constant need to give everything to someone who made his heart flutter.

And you? You had always laughed with him. Teased him when he did his little twirls or dropped to one knee in front of any woman in a ten mile radius. You’d rolled your eyes, called him ridiculous, joked that his flirtations were more extra than Zoro’s vendetta against stairs.

But you’d never said the truth. Not once. That sometimes, when he smiled at you not as a flirt, but just you your heart would skip. That there were moments when you thought maybe… maybe you were the one he’d fall for if he ever took a real chance. But he hadn’t. he was chasing someone else. Someone who made him nervous. You let out a soft breath, eyes still on the stars, a weight pressing gently against your ribs.

It wasn’t a jealous hurt. You were happy for him. Truly. It was just the kind of ache that came from wondering what if. Brook’s melody shifted slightly higher, like a question being asked in the dark. As if he knew.

You didn’t move. You didn’t cry. You just felt. Because it was okay to feel it. To mourn something that was never yours. To lie under the stars and let the music carry the weight of your silence.

you thought of him. Of the way his voice softened when he wasn’t being loud. Of how he always made your plate first when he knew you were having a bad day. Of how, sometimes, you imagined what it would be like if those small gestures were something more. Your fingers curled slightly against the wood. Another breeze passed over you, lifting your hair gently, and you blinked slowly, your gaze still locked on the sky.

The music swelled one last time before fading into the hush of the ocean, Just one song. One quiet night. One unspoken heartache. And then the world was still again. You lay there, unmoving, letting the silence settle. though the ache was still there, something inside you softened too like maybe, even if the story you wanted wasn’t yours, the chapter was still worth feeling.

“Did you know,” Brook began, his voice soft in the night air, “that the stars you see are sometimes already dead?”

You blinked slowly, then smiled, lips barely curving. “That’s… kind of depressing, Brook.”

“Yohoho, perhaps,” he chuckled lightly, “but it’s also strangely beautiful, don’t you think? That something can shine even after it’s gone.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah. I guess I like that.”

There was a beat of silence, “Do you think Luffy’s ever tried to eat a star?”

You snorted. “Absolutely. ”

Brook let out a full laugh, his ribs gently rattling with the motion. “I should write that down for a new lyric. ‘I reached for a star and bit down on a dream delicious!’”

You groaned, laughing despite yourself. “That is so cheesy.”

Another comfortable pause settled between you. You listened to the creak of the ship, the soft splash of water against the hull, and the distant thrum of something in the engine room probably Franky still working on some little project with his usual midnight energy.

Brook tilted his skull back. “Do you think fish sleep?”

“I think they have to. Maybe with one eye open. Like Zoro.”

Brook nodded solemnly. “Scary.”

You giggled and rolled over onto your stomach, resting your chin on your forearms. “What about skeletons? Do they sleep?”

Brook tapped his chin. “Hmm… difficult to say. I don’t have eyelids, so I’ve never actually seen myself do it.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“Not as exhausting as trying to take a bath when you don’t have skin.”

“Brook, what ”

“And on the subject of things I can’t do… may I see your panties?”

You stopped. Deadpan. Emotionless. You slowly pushed yourself up from the deck, brushing some hair from your face as you gave him the flattest look in the history of facial expressions.

Brook clasped his hands politely. “it would be such a lovely gesture.”

You pointed toward the hallway with a single, resigned finger. “You’re done.”

He blinked. “Oh?”

“You’re done,” you repeated, standing up and brushing off your clothes. “That’s it. Conversation’s over. Pack it up, skeleton.”

“Wait, my dear! I merely !”

You walked off toward the girls’ quarters without another word, your hand raised in a lazy wave behind you.

“Goodnight, Brook.”

He sighed behind you. “Ah, the pain of rejection. It cuts deeper than the Grand Line’s fog!”

You kept walking, hiding your smile. from behind you, drifting in the sea kissed night, came a final, cheerful:

“Sweet dreams! Yohohohoho!”

You shook your head as the door closed behind you, smiling to yourself. Even heartbreak couldn’t compete with this crew’s ridiculousness.

The soft creak of the ship accompanied your entrance as you returned to the girls’ quarters, your steps light but tired from the long, quiet moment you’d had with Brook on the deck. You rubbed your arms absentmindedly as you passed the threshold, the warm lamplight casting a cozy glow across the room.

Nami was sprawled comfortably on the couch with a drink in hand, her legs tucked under her, a mischievous glint already dancing in her eyes. Robin sat nearby in an armchair, book in hand, but she looked up as you entered.

“There she is,” Nami announced, smirking knowingly as she took another sip. “Have fun with our resident skeleton?”

You plopped down beside her with a hum, grabbing a pillow to hug against your chest. “It was nice. He played something soft. Kinda hit me in the heart a little.”

Robin’s smile deepened slightly. “Brook’s music often does.”

Nami raised a brow. “I have a love hate relationship with that man”

“Well…I couldnt blame you” You grinned. “It got weird eventually. I left before he could ask about my underwear.”

“EW LETS BURN HIM” Nami choked, laughing.

“shhhhh bed time now,” you confirmed, deadpan.

Nami snorted, shaking her head before she shifted back to her earlier topic with Robin, eyes alight with playful mischief. “I’m just saying,” she said, raising her glass again, “whoever this woman is… poor, poor soul. She has no idea what she’s walking into.”

You wheezed, pressing the pillow to your face. “Nami!”

“I mean it!” she cackled. “Can you imagine Sanji not spinning around like a lovesick ballerina the second she smiles at him? He’d probably burst into a heart shaped firework just from holding her hand.”

Robin chuckled behind her book, one elegant brow lifting. “He does tend to be… passionate.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed, eyes watering,

“Don’t forget the nosebleed,” Nami added, clinking her glass in the air.

The room burst into another round of giggles, warm and breathless, echoing softly around the cabin. It felt like home. But then your smile softened. You clutched the pillow a little tighter and leaned back against the cushions, your laughter quieting as your thoughts drifted slightly. “…I think it’s kind of cute, though,” you murmured.

Nami blinked and looked over. “What, that he’s basically a walking romance novel?”

You shook your head, smiling more to yourself than to them. “No. That he’s finally trying to take something seriously.”

Robin gently set her book down, her eyes curious and warm. Nami tilted her head, her teasing expression melting into one of genuine interest. You took a breath and let your voice settle. “I mean, sure, Sanji flirts like he’s getting paid for it. But this time? It’s different. He actually cares. You can see it in how he talks, how he moves. Like… he wants to be better. Not just charming genuine. That’s kind of huge for him.”

Nami leaned her elbow against the armrest, watching you closely. Her smirk faded into something quieter.

“He asked me for advice,” you added, fingers fiddling with the edge of the pillow. “that's so lame and cute”

Robin offered a soft, thoughtful smile. “It sounds like he’s growing.”

You nodded. “Yeah. And I know we all tease him believe me, I’ll never stop but part of me is proud of him, you know? He’s not trying to win over a dozen hearts. Just one.”

There was a quiet moment. The kind that wrapped around you like a soft blanket. Even the waves outside seemed to hush themselves. Nami exhaled loudly and flopped back. “Ugh. I hate that you made that sound sweet.”

You burst out laughing, sinking deeper into the cushions. “Because it is! He’s ridiculous, but he’s sincere when it counts.”

Nami pointed at you with a lazy glare. “If this ends with him writing sonnets and reciting them at dinner, I will throw myself overboard.”

“Good,” you grinned, “I’ll write your eulogy.”

Robin’s smile turned amused again. “Maybe the sea really will turn to wine next.”

You stretched out with a yawn, heart just a little lighter than before. “Or maybe our little chef’s finally found someone worth changing for.”

The room quieted again, the gentle rhythm of the ship rocking beneath you. Somewhere in the galley, a chair scraped faintly, a sign that Sanji was still awake, maybe cleaning, maybe daydreaming.

The kitchen was clean. Spotless, even. Every dish dried and put away, the counters gleaming, the scent of lemon and herbs still lingering faintly in the air.

Sanji stood alone at the center island, one hand gripping the edge of the counter, the other loosely holding a bottle of wine he hadn’t poured yet. The glass in front of him remained empty, catching the golden glow from the overhead lanterns.

His jacket was off, sleeves rolled up, collar a little undone. His tie hung around his neck, loose and forgotten. His hair fell in front of his eyes in soft curls as he hunched over the counter and let out a long, slow breath.

“…Idiot,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. “Stupid, stupid idiot.”

The cork creaked as he pulled it out of the wine bottle, then set it aside. He didn’t pour it yet just stared at the glass like it had personally offended him.

“Of course you asked her for advice,” he mumbled sarcastically, voice full of self mockery. “Genius move, really. Go ask the woman you’re in love with how to win someone else over. Brilliant. Next level romance tactics.”

He sighed, dropping into one of the stools, elbows on the counter, bottle still in hand.

“She probably thinks I’m pathetic. No worse. She probably pities me.” He leaned his head forward until it thudded lightly against the counter. “And then she said I was cute.”

His face flushed immediately.

His voice dropped to a quieter murmur, warm with memory. “She said I was cute just the way I am.”

He let the thought hang in the silence, echoing a little louder in the privacy of the kitchen than it had in the moment it happened. His chest tightened, and he swallowed hard.

She’d said it so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it was obvious.

Sanji rubbed the back of his neck, fingers twitching. “So what do you do, huh?” he asked no one. “You take that… softness, that little bit of warmth, and you turn around and act like your heart belongs to someone else? You let her believe that?”

He sat back up and finally poured the wine. The liquid splashed neatly into the glass, dark and rich. He stared at it, jaw tight.

“She probably thinks I’m in love with this new pretend woman. And I let her think that.”

He took a sip. He winced.

“Idiot.”

The word came out smaller this time. Not angry. Just… tired. He swirled the glass slowly, watching the way the wine clung to the sides. What was he even doing?

It wasn’t that he meant to lie. He just… panicked. He didn’t know how to say, “Hey, it’s you. It’s been you.” Not without ruining everything. Not without seeing her look at him with pity or worse, discomfort.

So instead, he twisted the truth into something safe. Something that would let her stay close, even if it meant she’d never know the real reason his heart pounded every time she smiled. And now here he was. With wine. And a thousand regrets. Sanji leaned back in his stool and stared at the ceiling.

“…That Sanji? That guy’s dreamy..”

He smiled faintly. Just for a second.

Then he took another drink and muttered again, quietly: “Yeah. Still an idiot.”

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡The sun rose bright and golden, casting warm beams across the deck of the Thousand Sunny. The sea was calm today blue skies, soft waves, and the smell of salt on the breeze. It was the kind of morning that promised a good day, or at the very least, a good breakfast.

You stepped out from the girls’ quarters with a sleepy yawn, your hair a little messy and your shirt slightly rumpled from tossing in bed. The moment your feet touched the deck, you felt it a strong pair of hands grabbed yours and spun you into the air.

“FOOOOOOD!!” Luffy shouted, laughing with wild energy.

“Luffy!” you squealed, dizzy but giggling as he twirled you around in a circle like a child with a new toy.

“I can smell it! Sanji’s cooking something amazing!” he cried, holding your hands as he danced with you in a crooked circle. “It’s meat day, I know it!”

You laughed breathlessly as he practically bounced on his heels, his enthusiasm contagious. “You say that every day!”

“Yeah, because I want it every day!” Luffy grinned, his wide, carefree smile beaming down at you. “Sanji’s meat is the best meat ever!”

“Phrasing, Luffy,” Nami said dryly from behind, stepping up onto the deck with a stretch and a mug of coffee.

Robin followed her, calm as ever, a book already tucked under one arm. “Morning,” she greeted softly.

“Morning!” you chirped, finally freed from Luffy’s grasp and straightening your shirt with a grin. “Someone’s fired up today.”

“Sanji’s breakfast are always special,” Luffy said seriously, his head already swiveling toward the galley. “He’s gonna make the eggs all fancy again, I can feel it in my soul.”

“You don’t have a soul,” Zoro muttered from where he was leaning against the railing, clearly only half awake.

“YOU don’t have a soul!” Luffy snapped back without hesitation.

You laughed as Chopper popped up beside you, sniffing the air excitedly. “Is that cinnamon? I think he’s making pancakes too!”

“Cinnamon and meat?!” Luffy gasped, dramatically grabbing you again by the shoulders and shaking you gently. “WE’RE GOING TO HAVE THE BEST FOOD EVER!”

You snorted. “Luffy, please. I haven’t even had water yet.”

From inside the galley, the sound of pots clanging and something sizzling filled the air, along with the unmistakable scent of breakfast being prepared with far too much care for people who would inhale it in under ten minutes. Sanji’s silhouette passed by the window briefly, towel over his shoulder, cigarette hanging from his mouth, sleeves already rolled up. He was in his element.

“C’mon, let’s set the table!” Chopper called, already hurrying to grab the cutlery.

Luffy started dragging you with him, eyes sparkling. “Come on come on come on come ooooon!”

You stumbled along after him with a laugh, glancing once toward the galley door as you passed. You caught the faintest glimpse of Sanji inside, wiping his hands and adjusting a tray of fruit focused, meticulous, and humming under his breath. He didn’t look up. Still, the sight made your chest warm for a second.

“FOOD!” Luffy yelled again.

And just like that, your feet left the deck once more as the world spun in circles and laughter echoed in the salt sweet air.

The dining table was already packed with plates steaming stacks of cinnamon pancakes, golden and fluffy, with fresh berries glistening like jewels. Plates of sliced fruit and scrambled eggs surrounded platters of sizzling meat, toast with butter that melted on contact, and glasses of fresh juice so vibrant they looked like sunlight in a cup. Everyone was in their place, Luffy practically vibrating with excitement as he bounced in his seat, holding himself back with visible restraint. Chopper was wide eyed, murmuring a small, “Wow,” under his breath. Brook had already begun singing softly to himself in the background, adding a calm rhythm to the buzz of morning chatter.

And then came Sanji.

He emerged from the galley with the final tray a dish of roasted vegetables and sweet sausages, perfectly arranged. His sleeves were still rolled up, his apron dusted lightly with flour, and his hair slightly tousled from the heat of the kitchen.

“Ladies,” he announced with a low, charming bow, “your breakfast has arrived.”

He moved first to Nami, as always, placing her plate in front of her with graceful precision. “For you, my lovely Nami swan, with extra honey on your pancakes just the way you like.”

She smirked behind her mug of coffee. “Charming as always, Sanji.”

“And for you, divine Robin chwan,” he said next, setting her dish down with a delicate touch. “Light seasoning, a side of papaya, and just a pinch of powdered sugar.”

Robin gave him a small, pleased smile. “Thank you. You’re quite attentive.”

And then he turned to you.

You were mid sip of juice when he knelt beside you instead of merely leaning over. The tray he carried was smaller, more focused. A beautiful arrangement of all your favorites crispy hash browns, folded omelet with cheese and herbs, pancakes with caramel drizzle and sliced bananas, and a perfectly cut piece of grilled sausage shaped like a little heart.

“Mon trésor,” he said softly, offering the tray like it was a gift more than a plate. “Everything you love. And I made the syrup myself.”

Your breath caught slightly, caught off guard by the subtle, extra sparkle in his eyes. He looked… softer, not just playful. Like this breakfast wasn’t just breakfast. Like he’d memorized your taste for reasons he hadn’t admitted yet.

You blinked, then gave him a slow, teasing smile. “You didn’t carve a heart sausage for the others, did you?”

“No,” he replied smoothly. “Only for the one who deserves it.”

You felt Nami’s stare from the other side of the table and heard Luffy inhale sharply next to you like he’d just discovered something juicy.

“Sanji…” you said, eyes narrowing playfully, “what are you up to?”

“Nothing at all,” he lied, setting the plate down with a flourish. “Only offering the best to the woman who brightens this ship more than the sunrise.”

Robin chuckled quietly. Nami straight up snorted into her coffee.

You stared at him, suspicious and amused. “Is this still about mystery lady you like?”

Sanji didn’t answer right away. His smile twitched just slightly, eyes flickering across your face like he wanted to say something more but instead, he straightened with that classic, smooth grin.

“Only a fool wouldn’t treat someone as radiant as you like royalty,” he said simply, giving a little bow before turning away to serve the others. You glanced down at the heart shaped sausage. Something fluttered in your chest.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡You were mid bite into your syrup drenched pancakes when Nami slapped your shoulder with the back of her hand.

“OW !” you yelped, nearly dropping your fork. “What?!”

“Did you see that?!” she hissed, leaning in, her eyes wide with scandalized amusement.

“Mf what ?” you mumbled through a mouthful of food, blinking.

Nami grabbed a napkin and pretended to casually wipe her mouth, voice low and fast. “Girl, that wasn’t just flirting..”

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. You choked slightly.

Robin, still reading her book nearby, turned a page without looking up. “I think it was quite romantic.”

You turned to Nami, whispering hotly, “Okay, okay, I know, I’m sitting right here !”

Nami snickered, eyes sparkling like she was witnessing a live soap opera. “Don’t ‘I know’ me. I’ve never seen him look like that before. And he’s Sanji. His flirting is practically a weather system.”

You felt your face heat up, the kind of warmth that crept from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You reached for your juice, mostly for something to do with your hands. “Maybe he was just being… nice.”

“Oh yeah,” Nami drawled. “Super nice…. because he’s reaaaaaal nice”

You groaned into your hands. “Nami, please. He likes someone else, remember?”

That sobered her slightly. She leaned back, eyes narrowing with a more thoughtful glint. “Right. The ‘mystery woman.’” Then she gave you a side glance. “are you sure he said someone not on this ship?”

You bit your lip, still smiling on the outside, but there was a tug behind your ribs. A quiet little twist. Your eyes drifted back to the galley doors where he’d disappeared, probably humming while he finished up dishes or prepared Luffy’s inevitable third round. He’d looked so proud when he’d set your plate down. So sure of what he was doing. So… hopeful.

Nami tilted her head. “So… he’s head over heels and trying to grow a pair finally”

“Yeah.” You toyed with your juice glass, swirling the contents. “I think he actually wants it to mean something. For once.”

Nami let out a low whistle, then narrowed her eyes at you. “And how do you feel about that?”

You hesitated. “I mean… proud. I guess. I know we joke about how ridiculous he is, but… I think it’s really sweet he’s trying.”

She watched you for a beat too long. “But?”

Your smile faltered a little. You looked down at your plate.

“…But I feel kind of stupid,” you admitted softly.

Nami frowned. “Why?”

“Because the whole time I was helping him figure out how to win her over, I kept thinking…” You trailed off, then huffed a quiet laugh. “Never mind.”

Nami leaned closer. “Hey. Come on.”

You finally looked at her, cheeks warm. “I kept thinking how nice it would be if it was… me.”

There was a pause. Nami’s eyes softened. “Damn,” she whispered.

You elbowed her, laughing despite the ache in your chest. “Shut up.”

Robin closed her book with a soft snap. “Well… whoever she is, she must be someone very special.”

You smiled, a little more bittersweet this time, and took another bite of pancake. “Yeah,” you murmured. “She must be.”

Your fingers gently pushed a piece of banana around your plate.

He doesn’t love you. Not really. Even if part of him wants to. Even if you wish you’d said something before he asked for advice on how to love someone else.

Still blushing, you turned back to Nami, managing a weak grin. “I think I need more juice.”

as you stood, your eyes lingered one last time toward the galley. Just in time to see Sanji peek out just briefly like he was checking if you were enjoying your meal. Your heart squeezed, and you looked away before your smile gave too much away. He was trying so hard. Too bad it wasn’t for you.

The kitchen was warm with the scent of baked bread and spices when you wandered in, the early morning hush broken only by the soft clink of utensils and the faint sound of Sanji humming to himself. He stood at the counter with his sleeves rolled up, focused on arranging plates like he was crafting art instead of breakfast.

You leaned against the doorway with a small grin.

“Morning, loverboy.”

He jolted ever so slightly, a spoon slipping from his fingers and bouncing on the counter with a quiet clatter. “Tch must you sneak up on me like that?”

“I announced myself,” you said, walking in. “You’re just easy to rattle before coffee.”

He glanced over his shoulder, giving you a crooked smile. “If I’m rattled, it’s only because an angel wandered into my kitchen.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t waver as you made your way toward the pitcher of juice near the sink.

“I’m just here for this,” you said, reaching for a glass.

But before you could pour it, Sanji stepped beside you, brushing past with effortless grace. His hand slipped gently around your waist not holding, not lingering, just enough to move you an inch to the side so he could reach the pitcher.

“Allow me,” he said smoothly, as if he did this every morning. As if his hand hadn’t just sent a ripple of heat straight up your spine.

He poured the juice calmly, setting the glass down in front of you with a soft “Here you go.”

You took it, blinking, and looked down for a second to ground yourself before flashing him a smile.

“Thanks.”

Sanji leaned against the counter casually, watching you with that faint smile of his, the one that held just enough softness to make your chest feel tight. You took a sip, pretending not to notice the way your skin still buzzed faintly where he’d touched you. “Breakfast smells good.”

“Only the best for my favorite ladies,” he said smoothly

You looked down into your juice. “The food was delicious”

He chuckled, low and warm. “Im happy that I could be of service”

You glanced at him from over the rim of your glass. “You do that everyday amazingly”

He tilted his head, just the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I just like the smile it puts on your face.”

You nearly choked. You lifted your glass. “Careful, chef. Keep that up and the mysterious girl you’re into might get jealous.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them. You meant it as a joke. A tease. A shield. Sanji’s smile faltered just for a second. His gaze flicked to yours, something unreadable there.

Then he laughed, but it was quieter this time. “I'm sure she wouldn’t mind.”

You turned slightly, sipping your juice to hide your expression. Your heart did something unhelpful and fluttery. The touch of his hand still lingered like a phantom against your waist. “Well,” you said, eyes on the glass, “if she’s smart, she’ll hold on tight.”

You didn’t look back as you walked out, but you felt his gaze trail after you all the way to the door.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ cobblestone streets winding between open stalls, music playing faintly in the distance, and the smell of fresh pastries wafting through the air. With no mission scheduled, the Straw Hats had the rare gift of a free day on land. Naturally, you and Usopp took full advantage of it. You’d only been out for five minutes and had already stopped at three shops none of which you bought anything from. “Okay,” you said, holding up a ridiculous, oversized feathered hat from a vendor’s stall. “If I wear this, you think people will start treating me like royalty?”

Usopp struck a dramatic pose beside you. “You're so ratchet but it might work if I’m your royal advisor slash bodyguard slash legendary sniper.”

“So, your usual job?”

“Exactly,” he said proudly. “But Id be more likea knight and shining armour”

You snorted, putting the hat on Usopp’s head instead. “There. Now you look like a circus magician with tax fraud.”

He gasped in mock betrayal. “You take that back! This hat is limited edition!”

“Limited to what? Crimes against fashion?”

The vendor, who’d been quietly observing your antics, stifled a laugh while pretending to dust off some trinkets. Usopp adjusted the hat “You laugh now, but when I unveil my next great invention Usopp’s Amazing Weather Manipulation Cloak everyone will be begging to buy this look.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, starting to walk down the street with him. “And what does this miracle cloak do?”

He puffed out his chest. “Simple. It changes the weather according to your mood. Sunny when you’re happy, storms when you’re mad ”

“So basically, you want to create a walking hazard to public safety? we will be taking away Nami’s job”

“Exactly!”

You cackled, nearly tripping over a barrel. “God, it’s a good thing Chopper’s the doctor and not you.”

“Hey! My inventions have some scientific basis!”

You gave him a look. “Like when you tried to glue mirrors to your boots so you could ‘sneak around corners’?”

Usopp immediately turned red. “That was strategic! I was testing the laws of physics!”

“You blinded yourself.”

“shall we not dwell on the past you fiend”

You were both doubled over laughing by now, dodging around carts and weaving between market stalls. A group of kids ran past you squealing, and you barely missed getting smacked in the face with a balloon on a string. You eventually slowed near a little fountain in the town square, both of you catching your breath.

Usopp leaned on the edge of the fountain dramatically. “Man… why cant all days we stay like this.”

You took a sip from your water bottle and collapsed beside him on the ledge. “That isnt great warrior of the sea of you.”

The breeze picked up, brushing through your hair, and you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment just long enough for Usopp to break it. “Do you think Sanji would survive if we came back wearing matching ‘I ❤️ Zoro’ shirts?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “No. He’d implode.”

“immediate death then we’d get kicked off the ship.”

The sun glinted off the surface of the fountain water as you sat side by side with Usopp, still catching your breath from all the laughter. A light breeze picked up, rustling the colorful banners strung between rooftops and carrying the smell of sea salt and warm bread.

You were about to comment on how this was the first day in a while that felt truly peaceful when Usopp suddenly elbowed your arm.

“Hey, hey,” he said, nodding toward a stall across the square, “look who’s working his magic.”

You followed his gaze and immediately spotted Sanji. He was standing by a small fruit stall, all smiles and flowing compliments. The woman behind it a pretty local vendor was blushing furiously as Sanji offered to help carry something for her. His hand brushed hers lightly, and he flashed that dazzling, practiced grin you’d seen him give a thousand times before.

You swallowed, your smile fading just slightly. You tried to hide it, keeping your tone light.

“Guess that’s her, huh?” you murmured, glancing down at your hands in your lap.

Usopp blinked. “Her?”

You nodded faintly. “The one he asked me advice about. Makes sense, doesn’t it? We’ve been on this island for a week. He probably met her on one of those early grocery runs or something.”

Usopp looked back at the scene Sanji carefully adjusting the strap on the woman’s basket, saying something low that made her giggle and then back at you.

You gave a small sigh, more to yourself than anything. “She’s really pretty.”

Usopp’s face scrunched up, seeing the drop in your expression. “Hey, hey don’t go all mopey on me. You don’t even know if that’s the girl. He flirts with everything that moves.”

You laughed, despite yourself, but it was a little quieter than usual. Usopp, sensing he needed to go full Usopp mode, jumped to his feet. “Alright,” he said dramatically, striking a pose. “There’s only one thing to do in moments of emotional distress.”

You looked up, suspicious. “Usopp, what are you ”

“ Distraction via comedy!” he yelled, grabbing your hand with a flourish. “Come on, I’ll perform the Dance of a Thousand Legends!”

“What?!”

Before you could brace yourself, he spun you in an overly exaggerated twirl your legs tangled, your foot caught on the edge of the fountain

And with a splash, you were completely submerged in the cool, shallow water.

Usopp’s eyes went wide. “NO NO WAIT THAT WASN’T ”

You popped up, soaked from head to toe, blinking water out of your lashes, hair plastered to your cheeks.

“…Usopp,” you said slowly, voice eerily calm.

He held up both hands. “In my defense, that was the wind.”

You arched a brow, lips twitching despite yourself. “The wind spun me into the fountain?”

“It was a team effort.”

A beat of silence passed. Then you both cracked up. Laughter echoed around the fountain again, loud and genuine and ridiculous. A few people turned to look, but you didn’t care. Usopp offered you his hand with a grin, and this time, you took it just to yank him in with you. Another splash. Another shriek. Now you were both drenched, flailing in the fountain like overgrown children. You forgot about Sanji. You forgot about the girl. For the moment, there was just laughter, water, and one very amazing best friend who knew exactly how to pull you back to the surface.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡The dock came into view, and you and Usopp were practically wheezing from laughter as you stumbled down the path toward the ship, clothes still slightly damp from your earlier fountain mishap. Your makeshift T shirts handwritten in bold, messy letters with black marker proudly declared:

“I ❤️ ZORO”

Usopp kept pausing every few steps to bend over, hands on his knees, cackling like he hadn’t laughed in years.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, holding your side. “The look on his face is going to kill me.”

“I’m not ready,” Usopp panted, straightening up. “We need to be serious. Completely serious. No laughing.”

You immediately broke into another fit of laughter. “I already can’t breathe, how do you expect me to be serious?”

When the ship came fully into view, you shared a silent nod.

You both climbed up the ramp with as much drama as two theater kids about to win an award. The sun glinted off your ridiculous shirts as you stormed aboard like you were coming back from war. Zoro was on the deck, leaning against the mast with a toothpick in his mouth, sword at his hip, arms crossed like he definitely hadn’t been napping two minutes ago. His eyes flicked up in your direction and immediately narrowed.

You and Usopp struck matching poses. Team Rocket who?

“Zoro~!” you cooed, spinning in a slow circle to show off your shirt. “Look what we got made just for you~!”

Usopp threw both arms out. “We’re your number one fans!”

Zoro stared for a full second. “What the hell is wrong with you two.”

“Love does strange things to a person,” you said seriously, clutching your chest like you were about to faint.

“Speak for yourself,” Usopp added, holding his hand out to Zoro. “Your number one admirer. Autograph, please?”

Zoro’s face didn’t change. “You’re both idiots.”

“And proud,” you shot back with a wink.

Zoro turned, started walking away.

Usopp gasped. “Wait! Are you running from your feelings?”

“I swear, I will cut those shirts off you.”

“I’d love for you to try,” you said, chasing after him like a lovesick fangirl. “Zorooo~ come back~!”

Zoro grunted, picking up the pace, muttering something about needing to train which was definitely just code for escape. You and Usopp high fived triumphantly behind him, nearly doubled over with laughter.

“I’m giving us full credit,” you wheezed.

“As you should,” Usopp grinned. “This is peak comedy.”

The rest of the crew could only stare in confusion, amusement, or deep concern as the two of you continued your dramatic pursuit across the deck, yelling declarations of love at a very, very done swordsman. Somewhere near the helm, Franky raised an eyebrow, watching you dart after Zoro with your wet hair still dripping and marker all over your shirt. He blinked.

“…so like I need that shirt” he muttered.

Nami, passing by with a drink, didn’t look up. “No. No, you don’t.”

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡The sun was low in the sky, casting a golden shimmer across the waves lapping gently against the docked ship. You stood near the edge of the deck, your still soaked hair dripping quietly onto the wood below as you twisted it in your hands, trying to wring out as much water as you could. The sea breeze lifted the ends of your hair and shirt, still clinging damply to your frame. Your laughter from earlier with Usopp had faded into a peaceful calm now, the kind that settles in after the hecticness dies down and your chest is sore from joy.

Unbeknownst to you, Sanji stood just a few feet away frozen.

His cigarette hung lazily from his lips, forgotten.

The way the setting sun hit you glistening droplets trailing down your neck, the soft curve of your smile even in silence it was like something out of one of his daydreams. His heart gave a strange little flutter, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. Sparkles. Literal sparkles.

He sighed, eyes softening like he didn’t even realize he was staring. then… he saw it. The shirt. “I ❤️ ZORO.”

His jaw clenched. The sparkles popped like a bubble. His eye twitched. “Zoro?” He looked around as if to yell “WHY ZORO?!” to the gods themselves.

Muttering something under his breath that might’ve included “blasphemous,” Sanji snuffed out his cigarette and made his way toward you, trying his best to look composed like his heart hadn’t just been broken by marker ink.

You heard soft footsteps behind you before you felt the gentle weight of a towel placed across your shoulders.

“Dry off properly,” Sanji said, voice low but kind. “You’ll catch a cold standing around like that.”

You blinked, looking over your shoulder at him in surprise.

“Oh thank you,” you said, taking the towel and patting your face first, then moving to your hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to leave a puddle. Again.”

He gave a small shake of his head, kneeling down slightly to help towel off the ends of your hair. “Don’t apologize. You looked like a drowned cat earlier. Now you look like a damp angel.”

You rolled your eyes with a small smile. “You were doing so well. So close to normal.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, fingers brushing your shoulder briefly before pulling back. “You’re lucky I care whether you freeze to death.”

You looked at him then, soft towel still pressed to your hair, and his gaze met yours for a second too long.

“…Thanks, Sanji,” you said again, a little more sincerely this time.

His hand hovered like he wanted to reach for you again, but then his eyes flicked back to your shirt. The grimace returned instantly.

“He doesnt deserve that,” he muttered, standing up straight.

You laughed as he turned away. “HEY! hes so babygirl I cant help it” you called after him.

“he is absolutely not” he shouted back. “You want breakfast tomorrow? Say goodbye to that shirt!” You grinned to yourself, towel wrapped around your shoulders, and turned back toward the waves, a little warmer than you’d been before.

Sanji had only made it a few steps before turning on his heel with a fresh spark of dramatics and indignation blazing in his eyes. “Actually,” he said, pointing directly at your chest well, your shirt, but it didn’t help his case “take that off.”

You blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“That shirt!” he sputtered, already flailing slightly. “That insult to fashion and common decency take it off!”

Your grin curled like a mischievous wave. “Oh? So you do want me to take my clothes off.”

He froze Eyes wide. Face immediately red. “No I mean yes wait, NO!”

You burst into laughter, doubling over slightly with the towel still wrapped around your shoulders. “Wow, Sanji. I didn’t think you’d be so bold! Here? Out in the open?”

“That’s not ! That’s not what I meant, don’t twist my words like that!” he wailed, fanning himself with one hand, his other flailing like he was fighting off a swarm of bees. “I just I meant the shirt! Not ! Not you being ! Naked ! I mean, not that I’d mind NO, WAIT !”

You were fully wheezing now, nearly stumbling over the dock as you clutched the towel and your ribs.

“I can’t believe this is the hill you chose to die on,” you giggled.

He groaned into his hands. “This is not what I meant! Mosshead doesn’t deserve to be worshipped like that, not even ironically! What does he have that I don’t, huh?!”

You tilted your head with an evil sparkle in your eye. “You mean besides incredible muscle mass, a mysterious bad boy attitude, and oh my god hes just so handsome”

Sanji looked like you’d kicked him in the soul.

“I I have !” He pointed to himself, eyes wide, desperate. “I can cook! I’m chivalrous! I’d rather die than let you even get a scratch, i bet he wouldn’t even–”

You raised a brow, still smirking. “So… you’re saying you want me to wear your name on my shirt?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Blushed so hard he practically glowed.

Then muttered, “if it’s written in chocolate on you everything would change.”

You blinked. You weren’t sure if he meant on a shirt or on your skin, but judging by how red his ears were now, he wasn’t sure either.

“…You’re unbelievable,” you snorted, shaking your head and heading toward the ramp.

“You started it!” he called after you, still flustered and pointing. “I’m redeeming fashion! I’m doing the Lord’s work!”

You turned just slightly, giving him a wink.

“Sure, loverboy. Let me know when your merch line drops.” You disappeared up the ship, leaving a very red, very confused Sanji behind with his towel and shattered pride.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡Everyone had long since gone to bed, their laughter fading into soft snores behind closed doors.

Except you.

Sleep just… wasn’t happening. No matter how many times you rolled over or how tightly you hugged your pillow, your mind wouldn’t stop spinning. So you gave up, slipped into a loose sweater and shorts, and padded softly down the hall barefoot toward the kitchen. you padded softly into the kitchen, hoping some warm tea or leftover fruit might help settle your restless thoughts.

What you didn’t expect was the dim glow of the kitchen lamp already on… or the disheveled blond figure hunched over on the bench beneath the window.

“Sanji?”

His head lifted slowly. His tie was loose and crooked, shirt half buttoned, and his hair messier than usual like he’d run his fingers through it too many times. His cheeks were flushed a faint rose, and his eyes were just the wrong kind of glossy.

He blinked, then smiled like he was watching the sun rise for the first time.

“Angel,” he breathed. “You really do walk on clouds, don’t you?”

You blinked, caught a little off guard by how fast he perked up.

“Hey, hey easy there, loverboy,” you said with a chuckle, walking over and gently placing your hands on his shoulders to ease him back down. “Calm down, big boy.” You couldn’t help a snort. “Okay, Casanova, how many glasses in are you?”

He held up two fingers… then thought about it and added a third. “10.”

“Right.”

You walked past him to the counter and grabbed a clean cup, filling it with water. “You’re lucky it’s me and not Zoro. He’d have tied you to the mast for being this loud.”

“He’s just jealous of me,” Sanji mumbled dramatically, gaze following you the entire way.

You walked back to him, holding out the glass. “Drink this. You’re gonna regret whatever this is in the morning.”

He stared at the water. “But you’re the only thing I’m thirsty for ”

“Sanji,” you warned with a half laugh, plopping into the chair beside him and crossing your arms.

“Right. Water.” He took the glass and chugged it like it might turn into wine. “That was for you.”

“Thanks,” you snorted. “I feel incredibly hydrated by proxy.”

He swayed slightly and rested his cheek against his fist, still looking at you like you held the moon in your palms. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

You tilted your head. “You tell every girl that.”

“But I mean it more when it’s you,” he slurred softly.

Your lips parted, but the words didn’t come. There was something raw about how he said it. Like he wasn’t trying to charm you. Just… saying what he felt.

You swallowed and looked away for a second, staring at the quiet kitchen. “Why’re you drinking alone?”

He shrugged, shoulders loose and hazy. “Just thinking. About stupid things. About smart things that feel stupid. About shirts and swords and ” he hiccuped, “ how I’ll never be cool like Zoro.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Zoro wouldn’t even know how to turn on a stove.”

“I know!” Sanji whined. “I know. But he doesn’t need to. People just like him anyway. And you ” he paused, his voice dropping a little “you wore his name.”

That made you blink. You looked at him fully now. “Sanji…”

He let out a breathy laugh and shook his head, burying his face in his arms against the table.

“I’m being dumb again, huh?” he mumbled. “I always get like this when you’re near. It’s like my brain turns into scrambled eggs.”

You watched him for a moment, your chest tight with something unspoken.

“…You’re not dumb,” you said finally, your voice quiet. “You’re just bad at pretending you don’t feel things.”

He peeked up at you, eyes soft.

You smiled gently. “It’s kinda… what I like about you.”

You sat down next to him on the bench, a comfortable space between you until Sanji, with absolutely zero hesitation, leaned into you and snuggled his head against your shoulder.

“Mmm.” His voice was muffled in your sweater. “You’re so warm. You smell like the sea and something sweet… like honey. Or cake. Or maybe youre just as sweet.”

You blinked, looking down at the mess of blond hair now nestled into you. You let him rest there, too tired to push him off and maybe not really wanting to. The kitchen was quiet aside from the ticking of the wall clock and the hum of the ship gently rocking with the waves. His body was warm against yours, heavy and content.

After a moment, you murmured, “You okay, Sanji?”

He let out a sigh, his breath hitting your collarbone. “Nope.”

You smiled faintly, resting your head lightly against his. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“…Want more water?”

“Only if you hold it for me like a baby bird.”

You snorted. “Yeah, you’re done.”

Sanji shifted slightly against you, cheek still pressed to your shoulder, but now his fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve tugging, releasing, tugging again. There was a quiet stillness in the kitchen, broken only by the ticking clock and the gentle sway of the ship. “…Hey,” he mumbled, voice thick and unsteady. “Can I ask you something?”

You glanced down at him, smile soft. “Sure.”

He hesitated, then pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. They were a little glassy from the wine, sure, but behind that, you saw something so cute and honest peeking through. He looked almost… scared.

“Do you…” He swallowed. “Do you actually like me? Like this?”

You blinked. “What do you mean ‘like this’?”

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, face now red as a tomato. “I mean I know I’m kind of a disaster. I flirt too much, I say dumb stuff, I fall too fast, I… twirl around like an idiot half the time. But when I asked you for advice… I wasn’t ”

He cut himself off with a shaky breath, then turned back to you, expression completely open now, like he was laying his heart on the table next to the crumbs and the empty wine bottle.

“…I was trying to ask how to get you to like me.”

Time stopped. Literally, it felt like the kitchen froze. The air thickened, your heart skipped so hard it hurt, and your brain went completely blank except for one long, internal scream.

“W What?” you breathed.

He winced slightly, clearly mistaking your shock for horror. “I know I’m an idiot. I thought maybe if I asked like it was about someone else, it wouldn’t be so embarrassing. You’re just so amazing. You laugh at my jokes, you call me out when I’m being over the top, and you look at me like I’m… a person. Not a character.”

Your mouth opened and closed uselessly. “Wait. Wait.”

He kept going, barely able to meet your eyes now, fingers nervously twisting the fabric of your sweater. “I thought if I could just be better, maybe you’d see me differently. Maybe you’d want to give me a shot. I didn’t want to mess it up by saying the wrong thing so I thought… maybe you could tell me how to win over a girl like you. B But that’s stupid, right?”

It hit you like a ton of bricks. A ton of bricks wrapped in love letters and wine stained confessions. The girl he’d been talking about… the one he wanted to be better for, the one he asked about so earnestly… it wasn’t some island stranger.

It had been you.

Your breath hitched as your brain scrambled for a coherent thought. Your face burned so hot it might’ve glowed in the dark.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, barely audible. “Sanji.”

He was still looking down, shoulders tense, voice quiet and fragile. “Yeah?”

You swallowed hard. “You… you’re in love with me?”

His face practically exploded in red as he jerked his head back up to look at you, horrified. “I Wh What?! I mean yes?! No I mean dammit oui?! I didn’t mean to say it like that! I meant like not like, love love but maybe like a crush or oh god I’m drunk, ignore me ”

You pressed your hands to your cheeks, laughing way too high pitched, flustered beyond saving.

“Sanji,” you squeaked.

“I was so smooth in my head,” he groaned, burying his face into your shoulder again. “I had speeches and everything. Why did I drink five glasses?!”

You laughed again, covering your face. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Is that a yes idiot or a no idiot?”

You bit your lip, cheeks hot, heart racing as you looked down at the ridiculous, flustered man holding onto your arm like he might float away otherwise.

“…Maybe it’s a yes idiot,” you whispered.

His head whipped up. “What?!”

You smiled shyly. “Maybe I like you too. Just the way you are.”

He blinked. Then blinked again. And then

He passed out in your lap.

“…Unbelievable,” you muttered, flustered and smiling helplessly as you smoothed back his hair. “You really are the dumbest romantic I’ve ever met.”

Sanji: I just wanna eat you up… starting with a little nibble here and maybe a lick there

[sturnslutz]

SUCH A SHAME - matt sturniolo

warnings; this is a CHEATING FIC. i do not condone cheating, this is just fiction. p in v (unprotected), nicknames - (baby, sweetheart, big girl, smart girl.), spitting in mouth, drunk sex, grinding against each other, use of y/n, i think thats all??

creds to anyone who has done cheating fics before!!!

3,162 wc.

it was a constant routine between you and chris. you guys argue, mean words being thrown back and forth, you two have makeup sex, and you move on without another word about what you guys were actually arguing about and never actually fixing the problem.

one night after an argument, you had enough and grabbed a couple of club clothes— ignoring the yells being thrown at you from chris, and walking past him, storming off to your car outside of his apartment.

it was around 9:30 already, and you started driving to a nearby bar you’ve been going to for a while. sometimes you, and chris and his brothers would go out and have a great time. but tonight, it was just you.

you pull out your phone as you stop at a red light and text chris’s brother. matt.

matt had always been eyefucking you ever since you and chris even became friends. sly words said to you in secret, small, intimate touches, but nothing ever actually being done about it, as you and chris started dating.

of course you knew matt had a thing for you, but you couldn’t really do anything as chris was your boyfriend and you loved and adored him. tonight was different. you wanted to make chris mad, or at least in your head.

“come to the bar, right now. i’m by myself.” you quickly type out to matt, stuffing your phone into the center console, beginning to drive again. you know matt wouldn’t pass over an opportunity to see you, and that’s coming in handy tonight.

you get to the bar and check your phone again, matt responding almost instantly after you texted.

“omw”

you grab your clothes and your bag and head into the bar’s bathroom, changing into the clothes— which were more revealing than chris would ever let you out in, and touched up some of your makeup. matt texted you about 3 minutes ago saying he was here and sitting at the bar.

you walk out, and see matt sipping a drink. you set your bag down next to him and grab his cup out of his hand, taking a sip. “i’ll be right back, gotta put my clothes back in my car.” he smirks and nods, and you head out. you have a shot bottle in your car, and drank it all, wincing at the taste.

you put your clothes in the backseat before closing the door and heading back into the bar.

matt was faced towards you, smirking the whole time you walked towards him. “so what’s got you all upset, pretty? ‘nother argument with chris?” you nod, rolling your eyes as you sit down in the chair, which was closer to matt than you realized. he had bought you a drink, to which you happily drank before answering his question.

“yeah, some fuckin’ dumb shit again, he’s always starting arguments recently and i’m sick of it.” he tsks, letting his hand fall to your knee, rubbing it softly.

“he’s dumb, i know. don’t let it get your pretty head though, you’ll drive yourself crazy.” you hold his hand above your knee, rubbing his knuckles.

“i love him, i do, but— i don’t know,” you sigh, taking another sip— already feeling the effects of the alcohol flowing through your system. “it’s just a constant cycle and i hate it. we used to never be like this, y’know that, and then something just switched inside of him to always have a problem with every little thing i do.”

you noticed matt’s demeanor has changed, and he seems more considerate with you. it’s not like him flirting, but he genuinely does seem to understand.

“he’s just going through shit, i don’t know. i wish i could help, but he’s barely talking to me or nick recently, and nick’s pissed off by it too. so i get where you’re coming from, even if you don’t think i do.”

you look back at matt, really look at him, and smile softly. “thank you, i feel like i am actually going crazy. my words never seem to go through chris, it’s like they go through one ear and out the other and he’s just never actually listening to me anymore— but you’re making me feel listened to.”

you tighten your hand around matt’s hand, to which he smiles back at you, squeezing your thigh a bit tighter than before.

he orders another round of drinks for the both of you, the conversation flowing between you two easily. you haven’t seen him in a little while—on behalf of chris, as he knows matt thinks you’re attractive and doesn’t necessarily trust him around you. huh, ironic. it’s been about an hour of both of you being here, and it seems like it’s been 10 minutes.

of course you know matt’s attractive, him and chris look alike. but it’s not even that, it’s also his personality. the way he carries himself, his way with words, the way he can make you feel better in an instant without even trying, and that’s why you can feel so comfortable around him.

it was like that with chris too, since about a month or two ago where you don’t know if something happened at work or what— but his whole self just completely changed and his personality that you know and love just completely vanished.

“but enough about me, how’s your life been? any new girls or anything?” you ask matt, giggling softly. the both of you are already at the brink of being drunk, the way words flow out faster and easier than before, and the way you two have drifted closer to each other, without either of you noticing.

he shrugs a bit, taking a big gulp of his drink, finishing it and asking the bartender for another. “eh, not too much. had a thing with this girl named emma, but shit kinda fell through. she made this excuse about being busy at work all the time and kept canceling our dates. she works as a lifeguard, by the way.” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, to which you let out a little laugh.

“i mean lifeguards are very busy, especially now, in october.” you continue laughing, your head falling against his chest, to which his hand moves up your back, rubbing you gently as you continue to drunkenly laugh at your own joke. “i know, crazy busy.” he adds. “so i just kinda broke things off gently, y’know? but she wanted to fuck one last time before she left and that’s what we did. that was about 3 weeks ago, and we were around each other for like 2 months i think?” he sighs, as you sit back up, finally calming down a little bit. your hair was all messy now from leaning against matt and he chuckles a little bit as he reaches up and smoothes down some of your hair. “crazy girl.” he mutters as he examines your face.

“i didn’t say it before, but i really am sorry about what’s happening between you and chris, you don’t deserve that at all, sweetheart.” he says with another sigh, drinking a couple more sips before looking back at you. you shrug, following his actions and taking another sip. “i can’t do anything about it, im jus’ gonna let it be and kinda distance myself until he figures his shit out, because it is affecting me like crazy. i can barely sleep anymore, and all i do is cry about it. i love him so much but his words hurt me so badly, y’know?” he nods, taking your hand in his and rubbing it gently. he nods for you to continue, to which you shake your head.

“i don’t really wanna talk about it anymore, i came here to have a good fucking time with you, and that’s what we’re gonna do. c’mon let’s dance a little bit.” your mood starts to improve a lot more, as you stand up, still holding your hand in his as you try to drag him to the dance floor. “you’re insane if you think i’m dancing right now, honey. i’m probably gonna knock someone over, and that someone being you.” he smiles, looking at your little pout that you give him. “fine, 10 minutes.” you whoop, holding his hand tighter as he finally stands up, following you to the floor.

he hasn’t let go of your hand since the second you grabbed it. he let you take the lead, and you pulled him into a small crowd— maybe 15 or 20 people and started dancing close to matt.

the music was blaring through your ears, and you started looking up at matt with such admiration, as he held your waist tight. you moved against his body to the beat of the music, each beat causing you to get a little closer to matt until you two were right against each other. “careful, sweetheart. you’re dangerous, and i don’t know if chris would like what i’m thinking right now.” you giggled a bit, letting your fingers run through his hair— tightening them every once in a while. “well chris isn’t here, is he? tell me your thoughts, matt. i’m open ears.”

he laughed, shaking his head, his fingers gripping into your hips. “i can’t, because it’s gonna lead us somewhere we might both regret.” you rolled your eyes, taking and moving his hand more up your waist. “i’m not gonna regret anything, matt.” you lower your voice, hoping matt could still hear you, and he smirked— confirming that he did.

“you’re drunk.” he slurs out. “you are too!” you laugh as you continue dancing against him, your hand running through your hair and across his body after. matt took your hand, grabbing it firm, but not too hard and walking the both of you back to the bar.

“are you okay?” you ask, looking up at him as he pays the bartender, and thanking him as he grabs your purse in the process.

he looks down at you and even in the dark lighting of the bar, you could tell— he was hungry for you. “i need you so fucking bad right now, y/n. will you let me drive us back to my place? i walked here and i’m not super drunk to not be able to drive your car. it’s a quick drive, i promise.”

you can see in his face and the way he’s holding onto you tight that he’s desperate. you can’t help but have a flicker of chris in your head before you agree, knowing what was gonna happen between you and matt.

“yeah, yeah. let’s go.” you say fast, nodding. he smiles, saying one last thanks to the bartender before pulling the both of you out of the restaurant. once you unlocked your car, he opened the passenger side seat door, holding it for you to which you smiled and thanked him, sitting inside. you realized you left your phone in the car while matt opened the driver’s side and sat down.

once you unlocked your phone, a crazy amount of notifications came through, all from chris. “chris texted and called me probably a hundred times.” you mutter to matt and he lets out a small curse. “listen, we don’t have to do this, i can just drive you home, it’s okay-“ you interrupt him before he gets another word out. “no, i want to do this matt. i’m drunk, you’re drunk, let’s just fucking do it. i’m sick of chris’s bullshit and i need some relief.”

he looks at you for one more confirmation and you nod, to which he smiles at you, as he starts the car. you take one last glance at the notifications still coming through from chris, before powering it off.

he starts driving carefully, as you watch the views out the window. you and matt stay silent, both overwhelmed with the sexual tension between you two, only the faint sound of the car and the radio in between it. after about 10 minutes of driving, he finally comes to a stop in front of his complex. “we’re here. i’ll open your door.” he’s already out the door before you could even move an inch, your laugh filling the car.

he opens your door, grabbing your hand and kissing it gently, pulling you up.

he grabs your hand again and directs you through the lobby and up the elevator, starting to kiss your shoulder and nibble at it.

”we’re not even all the way up yet, you needy boy.” you giggle. he hums against you, sending chills through you. “couldn’t resist, baby.” he mutters. the elevator ride feels like an entirety before it finally stops at his floor. he stands up, grabbing your waist and pulling you through the hallway before stopping at his door and opening it.

the second he shuts it, he can’t keep his mouth and hands off you.

he’s pushing the both of you to his bed, gently pushing you down on it. “tell me i can do this.” he says as he wraps his fingers around your skirt. you nod, and he tsks. “i need an actual ‘yes’.” you whine, bucking your hips up. “yes, yes you can, please.” he smirks, finally pulling your skirt down to your ankles. “so needy, hm?”

he grabs your top, pulling it over the top half of your body, leaving you only in panties. “no bra? almost like you expected me to bring you up here and fuck you, baby.” you smile a bit, grabbing his neck and pulling his face close to you before you whisper, “maybe i did,” he groans, finally leaning in and kissing you deeply. he’s waited so long to finally be able to touch you, and the fact you’re doing this in secret turns him on even more.

”you’re so beautiful,” he mutters against your lips before letting his tongue enter your mouth, exploring every part. his hands move up to your boobs, massaging them deeply, and playing with your nipple. he lets his lips move onto your left nipple, swirling it around with his tongue, earning a moan out of you. he moves his mouth to your right nipple with a satisfying pop from your left, latching onto the right. his right hand moves down your stomach and your thighs, moving his fingers soft against your already-wet panties. “so wet already?” he says against your boob, leaving marks all over, knowing exactly who will see them later. “mhm, all for you, matt,” you whimper out, causing him to push just a little bit harder against your clothed clit, making you squirm.

“poor chris doesn’t know what his sweet girlfriend’s about to do with his own brother, jus’ because of his own, dumb actions. such a shame, isn’t it baby?” he mutters, chuckling at the thought, looking up at you as you nod. your eyes are already shut, even from his little actions. “open your eyes.” you open hesitantly, looking down at him.

he started kissing your thighs, his right hand still massaging your boob. his left moves your thigh to angle it where he can kiss the inner part, biting them gently. he mouths your clothed pussy, already growing hard himself and grinding against the edge of the mattress, trying to relieve at least some of the ache away. he hums against you, sending more chills through you. “matt, please— do something,” you whine and he hums.

he moves up again, grinding himself against you, causing you to gasp. “y’like that, huh?” you nod, whining a bit still. he taps your cheek with his hand a couple times before gripping your jaw and shaking your head condescendingly. your jaw falls open, and he spits on your tongue—to which you happily swallow. “didn’t even have to tell you anything, y’just know exactly what to do, such a smart girl,” he leans in, kissing you gently before biting your lip playfully, letting it go.

he leaned down and swiftly unbuckled his jeans, letting them fall to his ankles, and stepping out of them. he pulls down his boxers, releasing his cock— which was already painfully hard.

you gasped a bit, and he looked up at you smirking. “y’scared? don’t worry, it’ll be alright, you’re a big girl.” he finally hooks his fingers to the top of your panties, pulling them teasingly slow, before finally letting them fall right above your skirt. he moves his dick through your folds, moving it up and down and pushing it against your clit numerous times.

“matt, stop teasing, please—“ you choke out before he finally gives in, pushing into you slowly. your breath hitches in your throat at the way he’s stretching you out, and by the fact he is bigger than chris. he finally bottoms out, and his hand runs across your face and chest, soothing you down. “i’m gonna start moving, jus’ let me know if you need a break.” you nod, allowing him to move.

he goes in and out slowly as he grabs your hand, putting it up next to your head, interlocking your fingers with his. he goes a bit faster as he realizes you’re moving also, and he grips your hip with one hand tightly, starting to dig deeper into you. your leg is still bent, allowing him to hit a spot you didn’t even know existed.

incoherent words and babbles immerse from your mouth and he sticks his middle and index finger in your mouth, which you immediately suck on.

“there ya go, jus’ needed something in your mouth, yeah baby?” he’s going faster now, the sound of skin slapping together filling his apartment. his groans becoming louder and deeper, and his thrusts becoming sloppier. you gag a bit against his fingers and he almost cums on the spot from the sound and the feeling.

he pulls them out, gripping your hand again. “fuck— i’m gonna cum, where d’you want me?” he says breathless, and his chain slapping against your chin repeatedly pulls your attention back.

“inside, please.” you whine out, and he nods. he feels you start clenching around him, and your squirming. he puts his face closer to yours, looking in your eyes. “cum with me, baby.” you nod fast and he finally puts in a couple more fast, sloppy thrusts into you before finally halting inside, filling you up. your thighs are shaking and moans erupt loudly as you finish with him.

after a bit of time, his dick spluttering inside you, he finally falls on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you tight. “that sobered both of us up.” he whispers, chuckling with it. you nod, giving a lazy smile. he carefully pulls out of you, both of your releases spilling out onto his sheets. “eh, it’s alright , i’ll clean it up later. let’s go pee and take a shower, and you can stay the night.”

[hoshifighting]

i'm BEGGING for a collegefling! jeonghan plzz

thank youuuu 💗 love your work <33

warnings: smut, teasing, flirting, fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, semi-public sex, library sex, loud!jeonghan, jealousy, he's such a cutie too.

college fling!jeonghan who's not the type to play around with mixed signals. if he wants something, he’s pretty direct about it. likes games—just not the confusing kind. so, yeah, when you first met him, you kind of got what he was about from day one. freshman year was chaos. the university’s big events had everyone talking—water games, shirtless dudes, bikinis, everyone all bronzed and glowing under the sun. but jeonghan— he’s not about the whole "show off my body" thing. kept his shirt on, like he didn’t need to prove a damn thing. confident as hell, and you hated how much that got to you.

he was the one who came up to you first, of course. said something like, “my friend thinks you’re pretty.” such a casual opener, like it was no big deal. but then he took it further, all smooth with a teasing smile. “but i don’t really trust his taste, so i had to see for myself.”

you remember just rolling your eyes, thinking, this guy—but also trying not to let on that his vibe was doing things to your brain. when he went on to say, “so, are we making out now, or later?”—you laughed in his face, hard. hard as fuck, actually, and told him straight up that wasn’t happening, and his response? a smirk. that smirk that would become the smirk, the one you'd start seeing every time he spotted you from across campus, during parties, even in the quiet corner of the library when you thought you were safe.

after that day, it was like this... game, but not really a game. like, you’d be minding your business, trying to get through your classes, and boom—jeonghan would be there, casually sliding in with some flirty comment, always teetering on the line of too much. but never quite crossing it. like one time, you were sitting with your laptop, probably stressed over a deadline, and he just popped up with, “you look like you could use a distraction.” you shot back, “don’t you have someone else to annoy?” and of course, he answered, “nah, i’m committed to you.” committed. like it wasn’t just a stupid flirty thing.

and it kept going. year after year. no kissing, no hooking up—just this ridiculous back-and-forth, every time he saw you, making your stomach twist up in knots. it was frustrating as hell, ‘cause even though he flirted like it was second nature, he never actually pushed you to do anything more. he knew the game. he knew exactly how far to take it before pulling back, leaving you wanting more but hating that you even did.

one night, you were at some random house party, loud music, too many people, and of course, there he was. leaning against the kitchen counter, looking all too comfortable in a place that was way too crowded. he saw you first, waved you over with that lazy smile that you wanted to ignore but couldn’t. “you lost or just looking for me?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t looking for him.

“neither,” you lied, grabbing a drink from the counter just to have something to hold. but he wasn’t buying it, stepping a little closer, crowding your space just enough to make your breath catch.

“right,” he said, that teasing lilt in his voice. “so you’re not here just to finally kiss me?”

you laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as easy. “jeonghan, you’ve been trying for years. give it up.”

“noo sweetheart,” he pouted, voice smooth like honey. “i’m just playing the long game. i like it..”

the long game. because even though you never kissed, never took it past flirting, there was always this tension, simmering just below the surface. you’d catch yourself thinking about him sometimes when you weren’t even around him—wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

but he never made it weird. never tried to make you feel like you owed him anything, which was maybe why you didn’t hate him for it. because at the end of the day, it was fun. infuriating, yes. but fun. he’d make a comment, you’d brush it off, but deep down? yeah, there was always a part of you that kinda wanted to see what would happen if you let the game go on a little longer.

and jeonghan... he was patient. too patient, if you were being honest.

there was something stupidly comforting about jeonghan always being around. like, even on your worst days—those days when you couldn’t even be bothered to try. oversized hoodie, messy hair, not a scrap of makeup. you were barely surviving, and there he was, still managing to make you feel noticed. he’d walk up, casual as hell, and say things like, “your hair smells nice today,” or he’d reach out, fingers grazing your hand, just to say, “new nails? they look cute.”

and then there was that one time, oh god—you remember it clear as day. you’d barely rolled out of bed and showed up to class, hoodie pulled tight around you, and jeonghan slides up beside you at the cantine, glancing down at your hand. “you know what would look cute wrapped in there?” he’d said, all casual. and for a split second, you didn’t catch on. you were about to ask what he meant, then it hit you—cock. he meant cock.

you felt your face heat up, your brain misfiring as you shot him a look, trying to figure out if anyone else had heard. your eyes scanned the tables, praying no one else had clocked his little comment, and when you finally turned back to him, there he was—smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “what?” he asked, all fake innocence, like you hadn’t just caught onto his bullshit. “i was talking about the energy drink can.” and he pointed at the one in your hand, the one you had just bought. “it matches your nails.”

you laughed. you couldn’t help it. he had this way of making everything lighter, even when you were convinced it was gonna be a trash day. and he smiled too, like your happiness was his mission for the day. it was always like that. jeonghan would flirt, you’d roll your eyes or laugh, and things would feel a little easier. it was comfortable. safe, even.

but then… spring party. fuck.

there was something so painfully uncomfortable about seeing him with her. it wasn’t even the fact that they were together—it was the way he smiled at her. the way his arm was casually around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and then the cheek kiss. you saw it, and it felt like something lodged itself in your chest. like, what the hell.

it hit you like a ton of bricks. you liked the game too much. you liked him too much, but you hadn’t taken the shot. you never thought it was serious enough to matter, but seeing him with someone else? it felt like you were watching something that should’ve been yours. the whole night was a blur after that. no amount of party energy could bring you back up after seeing that.

you left early. didn’t even bother sticking around when the lights got lower, the music got louder, and everyone else started to get more and more drunk. you just… left. walked back to your dorm, the sound of your flower crown jingling a little with each step, the one your friends had insisted you wear. it felt stupid now. why the hell did you even care?

and then, as if the universe had it out for you, you saw him. just walking out of the dorms. not just any dorms. the dorms. the girls’ dorms. and you knew. of course it was her. she was in there, probably waving him off after some perfect little goodnight, and here you were, walking around with jealousy you didn’t even want to admit you had.

he saw you before you could duck away. smiled at you like nothing was weird, like you hadn’t seen him with her just hours before. “mhmmm... who’s this princess, huh?” he wolf-whistled, because of course, of course, he would. his eyes twinkled when they landed on your flower crown, clearly amused.

you weren’t. “fuck off, jeonghan,” you muttered, trying to brush past him. but you knew it. he heard it. he caught the tone immediately because even when he got on your nerves before, you were never this cold.

“whoa, whoa,” he called after you, stepping in your path with that all-too-familiar smirk, though now it felt different. heavier. “where’s this coming from? what happened? don’t tell me the princess has had a rough night?”

“i’m not in the mood,” you snapped, making a beeline for your dorm. but he wasn’t letting it go. he blocked your way again, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes studying you like he was figuring out some kind of puzzle. you saw his eyes lighting up.

“wait a minute… are you jealous?”

the way he said it, like he was genuinely surprised and also deeply entertained by the thought. you didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but your eyes flicked up anyway, glaring.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m ridiculous?” he laughed, stepping a little closer. “so you saw me with her, huh?” he teased, and you could see the moment he clicked it all together. “oh my god. you are jealous.”

“shut up, jeonghan.”

but he didn’t. he was full-on laughing now, not even trying to hide how amused he was by the whole thing. “okay, okay. listen, that was my sister, y/n.”

you blinked. “what?”

he wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “my sister. we had a family thing tonight, and she was visiting the campus for the spring party. she’s staying over, that’s why i was in the girls' dorms.”

you felt the embarrassment hit you like a wave. like, of course, you’d worked yourself up into a jealous mess over nothing. but still, the way he was looking at you, the way his laughter softened when he saw your expression change—it wasn’t like he was making fun of you. if anything, he looked… kinda pleased.

“you really thought i’d ditch you for someone else?” he asked, scrunching his nose. “after all these years?”

you wanted to hit him. and also kiss him. but mostly hit him. “shut up,” you mumbled, shoving past him to finally get to your door.

but as you fumbled with your keys, you heard him laugh again, this time lighter. “you know, if you want to kiss me that badly, you could just ask.”

"just ask?" you placed a hand on your hip, raising an eyebrow at him like you were calling his bluff. jeonghan just nodded, all nonchalant, like this wasn’t the moment of his life.

you took a step closer, the space between you two disappearing until your noses were nearly touching. you could see the way his eyes flickered from yours to your lips and back up, like he was trying to stay cool, but you knew better. underneath all that fake calm, he was freaking out.

you just smiled. you leaned in, just close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips, and whispered, “good night, jeonghan.”

you pulled back, turning on your heel, leaving him standing there. you didn’t need to look back to know the effect you had. you could feel the tension in the air, the way his posture faltered just slightly. when you reached your door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes one last time before you disappeared inside. he was still watching, a grin playing on his lips. as you leaned against the door inside, hand over your racing heart, you couldn’t help but smile too.

a few days later, you were at the library. it was one of those late afternoons where the campus was almost eerily quiet. most people were either at the football field, hanging out on the green, or already done for the day. you’d volunteered for this stupid school board vote thing, which meant you were stuck painting posters on cardboard, your hands covered in smudges of red and blue paint.

the library had this dim, cozy lighting, the blinds half-drawn so the soft glow of sunset was creeping in from the windows. but the table you were sitting at had this one bright, focused yellow lamp, shining right on your work as you dragged the wet paintbrush across the poster.

you were in your own world, humming softly, when you suddenly felt something… someone close. too close. a soft breath ghosted over your ear, so light you almost thought you were imagining it.

“boo!” a voice whispered, low and teasing, right by your ear.

you flinched hard, tensing up, your whole body jerking back so fast the paintbrush slipped in your hand. and of course, it was him. jeonghan stood there, barely an inch away, grinning like the asshole he was. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“what the fuck,” you muttered, heart still racing from the scare, eyes glaring up at him. but he was having the time of his life, watching the way your body reacted, still all wound up.

“shhh,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear this time. “we’re in a library.” the fake seriousness in his voice almost made you laugh, but you were too annoyed to let him win that easily.

“do you ever chill?” you asked, leaning back in your chair to give yourself a little space, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. he leaned down, resting his arms on the back of your chair like he was claiming it—and you.

“why would i, when scaring you is so much fun?” he shot back, his grin widening.

your heart was still pounding from the surprise, and now from him being so damn close, but you rolled your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t affected. “you’re annoying.”

“you love it,” he whispered, the teasing edge in his voice making you want to scream. but instead, you reached for your paintbrush again, ignoring him, or at least trying to. jeonghan, though, wasn’t going anywhere. he hovered over you, eyes scanning the half-finished poster on the table.

“what’s this?” he asked, gesturing to your work. “you painting a masterpiece?”

“just posters,” you mumbled, trying to focus on the brush strokes. but you could feel him there, his eyes practically burning into your skin. you hated how aware you were of him, of his warmth, of the way his breath still lingered on your ear.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning a little closer again, his cheek almost brushing yours as he pretended to inspect the cardboard. “you missed a spot.”

“jeonghan,” you warned, glancing up at him through narrowed eyes. but all he did was flash you that familiar, maddening smirk.

“what? just trying to help.” he finally pulled back, standing up straight again, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against your arm, just enough to send a spark through you.

you cursed under your breath, trying to focus on your work, but it was useless. his stupid little whisper and the way he hovered over you had already ruined any chance of concentration.

“you know,” he said casually, pulling out a chair next to you and sitting down like he had nowhere else to be. “you’re fun to mess with.”

“can you shut up for like, two seconds?” you shot at him, your voice carrying more frustration than you meant.

instead of taking the hint, he just wriggled his eyebrows at you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. he never stops. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather your thoughts, but the annoyance, the tension—it all bubbled up inside you, and before you could overthink it, you opened your eyes and leaned in, kissing him.

just a quick peck, a little “shut the hell up” moment, nothing more. but the second you pulled back and caught the look on his face, you almost regretted it. almost. jeonghan was stunned. like, full-on wide-eyed, frozen in place, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

your cheeks immediately burned, but you kept your cool, clearing your throat before going back to the poster like nothing happened. “sit down and be quiet now,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the cardboard.

for once, he actually listened. he sat down next to you, still staring, clearly trying to process what you just did. the silence that followed was awkward as hell, but it didn’t last long. because, of course, it didn’t.

he lasted about five seconds, max. then you felt his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. before you could react, his lips were on yours again, but this time, he didn’t hold back. it wasn’t some quick, shy kiss. no. his lips moved against yours, hungry, and then you felt it—his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth like he had no patience left.

his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and before you knew it, you were completely lost in him. your body responded faster than your brain could keep up with, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself.

when he pulled back, just slightly, his breath was ragged, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “can i?” the neediness in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. and that’s all he needed. his hand slipped down, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt before pushing it up just enough to get underneath. his fingertips brushed over your panties, teasing you, and you could feel yourself already getting wet.

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already soaked, cant wait to suck this pussy,” he whispered

you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he slid one finger under the fabric, barely grazing your folds. he was taking his time, dragging his fingers slowly, deliberately, over your wetness.

“so wet for me,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your ear now. “you want me to keep going?”

you nodded again, your hand gripping the edge of the table tighter, and you heard him let out a small, pleased hum before he pressed a single finger inside you. the stretch was slow, his finger curling as he pushed in deeper, and the slick sound of your wetness filled the quiet library, pussy swallowing easily the long finger.

it was embarrassingly loud. the soft squelch of his finger moving inside you echoed in the stillness, and your head fell back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

“shhh,” jeonghan whispered, mockingly, his other hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat. “quiet, be quiet f'me okay??”

you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible when he was teasing you like this, his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the squishy spot. he was taking his time, dragging it out, the wet sounds growing louder with each shove of his finger.

“you like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your neck now. “you like when i finger you slow like this?”

you could barely answer, your voice catching in your throat as he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more. the way your body responded was automatic—your legs spreading wider on instinct, your hips rocking forward to meet his hand.

jeonghan grinned, his fingers moving a little faster now, pushing deeper, the squishing sounds even louder than before. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered.

your head fell back against his shoulder, your body giving in. you could feel every inch of his fingers moving inside you, every curl, every thrust, the knuckles, it was driving you insane. you reached out blindly, your free hand finding his thigh before sliding up to palm at the bulge in his pants.

he let out a soft groan, his hips shifting slightly as you pressed your hand harder against him. “you’re really trying to make me lose it, hmm?” he muttered, his voice strained as he continued to finger you, his pace quickening.

your hand fumbled with the zipper of his pants, trying to get him out, but it was hard to focus when he was fucking you with his fingers like this, your wetness dripping down onto his palm.

“shit,” he hissed when your hand finally slipped into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his length. he was hard—so fucking hard—and the way you gripped him made his head fall back, eyes rolling as he thrust his fingers even deeper into you.

“you like that, baby?” he asked. “you like when i fuck you with my fingers?”

you moaned softly, nodding as your hips bucked against his hand. your walls clenched around his fingers, and the wet squelching sounds got louder, filling the quiet library.

“fuck, you sound so good,” jeonghan groaned, pulling your panties to the side so he could spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. his fingers moved faster, pushing deeper, and you felt your body start to tremble, the pleasure building so quickly you could barely breathe.

“jeonghan,” you whimpered, your hand tightening around his length as your other hand gripped the table for dear life. your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate.

“that’s it, mhmm just like that baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear again. “cum for your hannie.. so nasty baby, letting me fuck this pussy with my fingers...what if someone see this hm?.”

before you could stop it, your body seized up, your walls clenched tight around his fingers, your back arching as you came, the wet sounds of your release echoing in the quiet library.

jeonghan groaned softly, his hand still moving, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.

jeonghan watched as you giggled softly, in overstimulation, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, making him smile too. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you against him.

a single line of slickness dripping down between your legs, a translucent trail of your release that shimmered against the dim library light and hit the floor with a quiet, inappropriate drip. he stared at it for a second, mesmerized by how fucking wet you were.

before you could even react, jeonghan slid his fingers from between your legs, sticky with your juices, and without hesitation, brought them to his lips. he sucked your wetness off them like it was nothing, like this was casual. but the way he moaned softly, like he was tasting something forbidden, made your cheeks burn.

“jeonghan!” you hissed, scolding him, giving him a little slap on the arm. “what the hell?”

he just shrugged, lips curved into that cocky smile. “couldn’t help it,” he muttered, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. “you taste so fucking good.”

your face flushed even more, but you couldn’t hide the way your body still buzzed with need, even after he’d just made you come. your eyes flickered to the door—still shut, no one else around—and something wild sparked in you.

before you could second-guess it, you stood up from your chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him fast. jeonghan’s eyes widened in shock, hands automatically flying to your hips, but not stopping you. “y/n,” he stammered, voice shaky, his breath catching in his throat, “n-no, we can’t—”

“why not?” you whined, rocking your hips forward just enough to brush his cock agasint your folds, and fuck, it felt good. you were still wet, soaked from your orgasm, and the friction was enough to make you both let out quiet, needy moans.

jeonghan’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep his composure. “fuck,” he muttered, biting down on his bottom lip hard, his whole body trembling beneath you. “because—shit—i can’t keep quiet.”

“please,” you begged, your voice dripping with desperation, leaning closer so your lips ghosted over his. “jeonghan, i’m so horny… been wanting you for years too.”

those words did something to him. years. and it hit him all at once—the weight of everything, of all those years of teasing, flirting, the back and forth that never went anywhere, the way he’d always kept it just at the edge, never crossing the line. and now, here you were, straddling him, begging for him like it was all too much to hold back anymore. he could feel it too—the years of tension, of watching you from a distance, making you smile just to hear that laugh, all leading up to this.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as he watched you grind against him, his hands flexing on your hips. his eyes fluttered shut as the pressure built between you, your slick folds dragging against him. his body was wound so tight he felt like he could snap any second.

“jeonghan,” you whispered again, your breath hot against his lips, and then you reached down between you, a gasp escaping him when your hand wrapped around his length, teasing him.

“we can’t,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, not anymore. his hips bucked up into your hand, betraying how badly he wanted this. “we can’t do this here.”

“then be quiet,” you murmured, lips brushing over his as you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. your wetness coated him, slick and hot, and jeonghan groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you slid him along your folds. he was so hard, so sensitive.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasped, his body trembling under your touch. his hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard as you teased him, your slickness coating his cock, making everything feel too good, too intense.

“please,” you whispered again, pressing down just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, and jeonghan’s whole body shuddered. “i need you.”

he bit down on his lip, his hands shaking as he tried to stop himself from completely losing control. “you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough with lust. “i won’t be able to stay quiet.”

but you didn’t care. you wanted him too badly, needed him too badly after all this time, all these years of unspoken tension finally coming to a head. you were practically shaking with need, your hips moving on their own as you slid his cock along your folds, teasing yourself with the tip.

jeonghan let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back as you rubbed against him, the wet sounds of your slickness filling the quiet space. “shit, baby,” he whispered, his hands trembling as they moved to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “so fuckin good around me, fuck— i dont know if i will last.”

“then fuck me,” you whispered back, your voice desperate now, grinding down against him, your slick folds swallowing his cock inch by inch. you felt him twitch, felt how much he was holding back, and it only made you want him more.

he groaned, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours. “can’t keep quiet, can’t can’t—” he whispered again, his breath ragged, but the way his hips bucked up into you told you all you needed to know.

you let out a soft whimper as you finally sank down onto him, his cock stretching you so slowly, so perfectly. the feeling of him inside you after all this time was almost too much, and you moaned softly, your body trembling as he filled you up, inch by inch.

you started rocking your hips slowly, back and forth, barely pulling off him before sliding back down, letting him feel every inch of you. the way his cock filled you so perfectly made you clench around him, and you could hear jeonghan’s breath catch, a low groan slipping from his lips that he tried desperately to swallow.

his hands shot to your waist, gripping you tight as you moved. your rhythm was teasing, dragging your slick folds over him as his length stretched you with each motion. you knew what you were doing to him—the way his hips bucked up every time you slid down, his thighs tensing under your legs. he was struggling to hold it together, and you were reveling in every second of it.

you leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “you’re so fucking hard for me hannie”

jeonghan let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the chair as he tried to keep quiet, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “ngh—fuck—” he hissed, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to control himself, but the way you were moving, so slow and deliberate, was killing him.

you smirked against his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin before whispering again, your voice low. “you love how wet i am for you, hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all of those years, huh?”

that did it. jeonghan’s whole body trembled, and he let out a strangled moan, “ahh—shit—” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to pull you down harder, but you kept the pace slow, teasing, letting him feel every second of it.

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut. “you—ngh—feel so fucking good.”

his reaction only fueled you more. you started grinding your hips a little faster, rolling them in circles. you leaned closer again, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered filth, your voice dripping with lust. “you’re such a good boy for me, letting me ride you like this..”

jeonghan let out another deep groan, “o-oh—fuck—” his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he helped guide your movements, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. his eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, trying so hard to keep quiet, but every whisper from you had him moaning like he couldn’t control it.

“you’re such a dirty boy,” you whispered, “can feel how bad you want to cum inside me.”

“fuck—” he groaned again, louder this time, and you quickly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his to muffle the sound. the kiss was desperate, messy, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth as he kissed you back hard, his hands pulling you down on him as you rocked your hips faster. you could feel him shaking, his control slipping with every thrust.

you pulled back, breathless, your lips hovering over his as you whispered again. “you gonna come for me, jeonghan? gonna fill me up like the good boy you are?”

his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your ass even tighter as he thrust up into you, his cock twitching inside you. your fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady yourself, your nails digging into the wood as you rocked against him, feeling his cock throb inside you. his hands slid back up your hips, pulling you down gently as his cock twitched one last time inside you, the warmth of his release spreading through you.

you reached down between you, sliding your fingers through your own slickness and bringing them to his lips. “taste it,” you whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with lust.

he groaned softly, but didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping out to lick your fingers clean, tasting both of you mixed together. the sight of it made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as you watched him suck on your fingers, his eyes locked on yours.

you could feel the heat between your legs still burning, still aching for more, and without thinking, you started to move again, grinding your hips against his slowly. jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hands gripping your waist as he realized what you were doing.

“y/n—” he whispered, his voice shaky, “what the—we—fuck, we can’t—”

“shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing over his as you rocked your hips again, feeling his cock start to harden inside you. “just one more time.”

jeonghan let out a low groan, his hands sliding down to your ass again as he gave in, his body already reacting to the feeling of you moving on him again. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you just smiled, pressing your lips to his as you whispered against his mouth, “then die happy.”

[rueclfer]

I have been reading your work for an hour and ommggg

But I do have a request you don’t have to take it but I just went through a nasty break up a few days ago and I was thinking of, denki and sero x pothead reader smau one shot LET ME COOK LET ME COOK, anyways reader just went through a horrible breakup and hasn’t smoked in a while and her two boy best friends wanna make her feel better and now that her and ex boyfriend broke up they are both trying to flirt with her like a lil trio anyways if you take this tysm and it’s okay if you don’t I just wanted to yap <3

i was hysterically giggling to myself writing this u have no idea how TICKLEDDDD this request had me like u definitely cooked with this and i love you for it!!!! i'm on my way to deal with ur ex rn trust we'll get our lick back <3

deuces // denki kaminari + sero hanta

"so just like that? he broke up with you?" denki repeats, "like willingly? not even a little fight for you?"

"not even a little fight," you sigh with your cheek pressed against your knees folded up to your chin, "when all i asked for was the bare-fucking-minimum."

in the middle of your living room, you three moved the coffee table to the side where you settled yourselves on the floor over a mass of blankets and comforters im a makeshift conversation pit.

"fucking embarrassing," sero mutters before bringing the half rolled cone up to his lips, running the tip of his tongue across the gum line.

on the other side of you, denki was twisting the metal grinder between his hands- the same grinder with pikachu engraved on the lid that you had gotten him as a gag gift back when you were first years in university before any of you had really gotten into smoking.

"and like, i think deep inside, i knew we were doomed." you shove your face in your hands. "the post-relationship-clarity is hitting me like a truck right now and i'm thinking back on everything and realizing that i let so much slide when i shouldn't have," you groan.

sero snorts, "if only you had two best friends to warn you throughout the entire duration of your relationship, huh?"

"uh huh. the first red flag was when he kept inviting himself to our hangouts." denki rolls his eyes. "because ohhh just in case."

you pout, letting a beat of silence pass between you three as sero packs in the cone.

"well, whatever." you throw your hands up in frustration. "i don't give a fuck, he was right to be jealous and insecure. he knew there was no competition. it'll always be you two."

you don't catch the subtle glances exchanged between the two, but once you look back up from your lap, you notice a glint of a smirk on their lips.

“what?” you break the silence.

“what?” sero repeats, pressing his lips together to suppress his growing smile.

you laugh, “what are you freaks smiling about?”

“nothing.” sero nonchalantly shrugs, successfully masking his expression.

you turn to denki, his eyes widening in surprise as you slowly lean in until his back hits the couch behind him. you stop just a few inches from his face and stare into his light amber eyes, which flicker back and forth between your own.

“tell me,” you say in a low voice.

“fuck,” he squeaks out.

denki’s gaze darts over to sero for a moment searching for some sort of backup.

“weak,” sero mouths.

“aht!” you bring your hand up to tap the side of his tightly clenched jaw. “don’t look at him, look at me.”

“looking…” he murmurs, unable to contain his eyes from trailing down your nose bridge and to your lips. “...yeah. yeah. what was the question again?”

from behind you, you hear a snort from sero.

“stop playing dirty, y/n." sero finally interrupts. "you know he’s weak when it comes to you. you’re just short circuiting his already fried brain. i just rolled the most perfect joint for you too, so stop terrorizing him and bring that face over.”

your pout breaks into a smile.

“okay finnneee,” you draw out, leaning back into your original position and letting denki release the breath of air he had been holding in. “you two can keep your secrets then, not like i have the world’s worst fomo.”

“the fomo’s cute. like you actually want to hang out with us or something,” sero teases.

“only when i really need to get smoked out, i guess,” you laugh.

“and you know we’ll do it every time.” denki fidgets with the lighter in his hands, sparking it on and off a few times. “you know how painful those last few months were?”

“you two are so clingy.” you roll your eyes. “it’s only been a few months.”

you felt warm all over. when you first told the boys about your indefinite break from smoking per your ex’s request, you swear they were near tears, but of course they’d never admit to it.

“and it ends tonight.” sero holds the filter up to your lips, resting his thumb and ring finger against your jaw as denki holds the flame up to the end. “you remember how to do this, yeah? take a deep inhale for me, babe.”

“that’s good. just like that.” denki murmurs, taking the flame away as you suck in your cheeks with the inhale.

you wave your hand up for sero to take the joint away after a few seconds pass. as soon as the joint was ripped away from your lips, you violently cough out the smoke, holding your elbow to your mouth.

“phew, that was an ambitious one.” sero runs his hand up and down your back, landing a few pats in between your shoulder blades.

“jesus fucking christ,” you say in between coughs. ”you guys did not need to talk me through it like that.”

you were unsure if your cheeks were burning from the instruction and praise or from the shock of taking a hit that heavy after so many months, but your body felt light and airy- a necessary feeling of euphoria after a day of tears and arguments.

“isn’t it better if we do, though?” denki cheekily says as he brings the joint up to his own lips.

“little shits,” you mutter once the cough subsides. “you know what you’re doing.”

“and it’s working, isn't it?”

-

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover @commonmisery @moonstonejpg @twoplayergaymers @simp-plague @xvilluis @haruhi269 @starliightfiend

[venusvhs]

Sevika x chubby reader where the reader is a councilor. They make eyes during meetings where Sevika looks the reader up and down. Sevika flirts with reader right after until they have to leave. This keeps happening for a few meetings until reader shows up in a more showy outfit just to show off for Sevika. She resists ending the meeting early just to get to reader sooner. After, a different (male?) councilor gets to reader first, he attempts flirting with the reader and Sevika ofc pushes aside the guy and probably insults him for speaking to reader lmao and I was picturing this ending with Sevika and reader waiting until everyone leaves (or sevika telling everyone to get out) and having ✨intimacy✨ in the councilor room. But you can end it differently ofc. This is just a dabble tbh, just an idea that came to mind once I saw your post about it. Hope this sparks some inspiration!

୨so… what now?୧

councillor!sevika X f!councillor!reader

🏷️: lesbian sex, porn with a side of plot, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), semi-public sex, reader is chubby, pet names used, stone top sevika, no beta we die like men

🦌:tysm for this angel.. I was half asleep when i wrote this so it might not be very good. Idk. i hope it’s okay & I’m sorry it took so long to answer!! it’s short but that’s cause i scrapped it a few times. i left it how it was for posting cause i didn’t wanna force myself to write and then have it be awful 😔

when sevika became a councillor, she’d expected to spend all her time with selfish rich people who aren’t concerned for anything but their own causes. what she hadn’t expected was you.

sure, you were a filthy rich piltie, but you used that money for things other than yourself. you lived luxuriously but you spent the money you didn’t use to help people. and you were the only councillor, apart from her, to argue that zaun deserves equal attention to piltover.

immediately she was enamoured with you. it also helped that you were utterly breathtaking— soft and feminine, yet tantalisingly sexy. and after your first conversation, in which she almost went insane after you fawned over her prosthetic arm, she noticed you tended to float towards her a whole lot more.

you made eyes at her constantly, which she more than gladly returned, and most of your post-meeting conversations were simply the two of you flirting back and forth until somebody called you away for whatever the reason.

another thing she noticed was that your clothing changed. you’d always been feminine. but she noticed that since your first conversation you gradually wore.. less clothing? of course, you weren’t crossing the boundary of indecent exposure, but the slits in your dresses gradually crawled up your thighs day by day, and the necklines creeped lower. on occasion, sevika would notice you leaning forward in your seat diagonally from hers, just enough to give her a glimpse of your décolletage.

and naturally, it wasn’t only sevika that noticed this. there was another councillor who’d taken a liking to you. and being the lovely person you were, you’d laughed politely at his attempts to flirt with you and had returned the same energy— only your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes like it did with sevika, your voice never had the same airy tone. it did stroke her ego a little, but that didn’t mean the situation didn’t piss her off.

after a particularly stressful meeting, sevika was already on edge. when she saw you and aforementioned councillor talking. except he had you much closer this time, and you didn’t seem particularly thrilled. so, she intervened.

after a swift argument and sevika having to resist the urge to punch things, the two of you had been left alone.

it hadn’t been difficult, getting her this riled up. the second that councillor had left she’d burst into this spiel about how you make her feel, how unbearable she finds it having to look at you in those damn clothes and not be able to fuck the living daylights out of you all the time. and all you could do was laugh at her, pulling her in to kiss her gently, pulling her hand to your waist.

which is how you found yourself in this situation. sevika on her knees in front of you, her beautifully carved nose bumping against your clit while she murmurs sweet words into your cunt. her hands gripping at the fat of your thighs, steel eyes meeting yours as your eyelids flutter.

“sevika- at least give me a break- fuck!,” you grip at her hair gently, hips moving against her face as she looks up at you, steel eyes glittering as she looks at your plum red face. she grins cockily at you before continuing, somehow even faster.

it’s impressive to you, how long she’s been doing this. you think it might be crossing the half hour mark, and you’ve already cum twice. you had offered to return the favour but she declined plainly, and you weren’t about to complain.

she stays buried between the fat of your thighs for long enough that you think the bones in your legs are melting, and when she finally comes up for air she seems immensely proud of herself.

after promptly cleaning you up and escorting you back to your place, sevika pauses outside your door and rests a hand on the small of your back. she looks so reluctant to leave that you just laugh, pulling her into your house and immediately wrapping your arms around her neck. she laughs, voice shaky when she speaks.

“so, uhm… what now?”

long story short, you end the night sweaty and bare in your bed, talking about your lives and pasts after the realisation that you don’t really know each other— well, didn’t. you do now, and you think you might love sevika now you do.

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - under the checkered flag (part two)

warnings ; none! this is a slowburn, people.

prompt ; in which a girl who doesn’t believe in risks takes the biggest one of all—falling for a man who lives for the thrill.

note ; guys. i am publishing this early bc i simply could not help myself and yall are showing it so much love so i appreciate u <3 however i am trustfrated bc i need reader and jk to do the nasty already… anywho….

playlist here

series masterlist here

There’s a strange comfort in being alone. The quiet hum of your thoughts, the solitude of your space — it’s always been enough. You’ve never needed much beyond your own company, always content to exist on the sidelines of life, watching from a distance. It’s not loneliness, not really. It’s peace. The steady rhythm of your own routine, the safe predictability of your introverted nature. You’ve always been this way, happy with a book, a cup of tea, and the certainty that you control your own space, your own time. The world is full of noise, of excitement, of chaos, but you’ve always been content to observe it, never fully immersing yourself in the rush of it all.

But somehow, despite the certainty you find in this solitude, you find yourself texting Jungkook again and again, throughout the workweek. His messages come more often than you expect, each one lighter, more flirtatious than the last, pulling you into a conversation you didn’t anticipate but can’t seem to avoid. At first, it was just curiosity, a brief response to his persistent charm. But now, you find yourself checking your phone more than you’d like, your fingers hovering over his name. There’s something about his energy, the way he flirts effortlessly, that draws you in, like a magnet you didn’t realize you were attracted to until you couldn’t step away.

And yet, every time he suggests a date, every time he tries to take things further, you hesitate. Not because you’re not attracted to him.. because you are. It’s impossible not to feel the pull of someone like him. His presence is undeniable, his confidence infectious. But there’s a part of you that recoils, that can’t bear to give in to the excitement he brings. The thought of being entangled in his world is a world you can’t let yourself slip into. You’ve always stayed on the edge, always kept your feet firmly planted in the world you know, where things don’t change with the speed of a car zooming down a racetrack.

Every time his texts arrive, filled with playful invitations and gentle teasing, you feel the tug in your chest. But you resist. You have to resist. You can’t let yourself fall for someone who lives a life so far removed from yours, someone who thrives in a world you’ll never belong to. So, you reply with reluctance, your words polite but distant, never giving him the confirmation he’s looking for. You don’t need the chaos. Not now. Not ever.

And yet, something in you wonders: what would it feel like to step outside of your comfort zone? What would it feel like to let go of the walls you’ve carefully built around yourself?

So, you humor yourself. You keep him around.

Jungkook:"So, what’s your big plan for today? Got any exciting things happening in your peaceful, quiet life?"

You:"Nothing exciting. Just the usual—work, paperwork, more work."

Jungkook:"Sounds thrilling.

What about after work? You doing anything exciting then?"

You:"Probably just go home and binge-watch something. I'm crazy like that."

Jungkook:"Binge-watching? You’re really selling me on this quiet life.

But hey, if you change your mind, I know a place with great food and zero drama. You in?"

You:"I don’t know… might just be too much excitement for me."

Jungkook:"Ah, I see. The 'too much excitement' excuse.

You:"Haha.”

Jungkook:“Maybe you could teach me a thing or two about enjoying the quiet."

You:"I could try... but no promises."

After days of back-and-forth, playful teasing, and persistent messages, you finally give in. It’s not a date, you tell yourself. It’s just dinner. Dinner between two people who text each other more than they probably should. But still, the thought of it sits uneasily in your chest. The idea of stepping into Jungkook’s world, even just for one evening, feels like walking onto a stage you’re not sure you belong on.

You tap your fingers on your desk, glancing at your phone as the confirmation message from Jungkook pops up. “Can’t wait to see you tonight.”

You try to force yourself to focus on work, your heart a little heavier than usual, the weight of the evening ahead bearing down on you. You can’t let yourself think too much about it. He’s just another person, right? Another person who’s persistent, maybe a little too charming, but nothing to be afraid of.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

The workday drags on, like it always does, predictable as ever. You glance at your phone again, and this time, instead of the usual teasing, you read something more direct from Jungkook. “So excited. Don’t forget, it’s just dinner. No pressure, okay?”

You roll your eyes a little, feeling a strange mixture of relief and apprehension. No pressure? Right. As if that’s possible with someone like him.

Jisoo is already on her usual routine of bouncing around with too much energy. She spots you as soon as she walks through the door after her lunch break and practically keels over with excitement.

“Tell me everything!” she demands, leaning over your desk with a huge grin. “Are you going or not? What did he say? Did you finally agree to dinner?”

You pause for a moment, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just dinner. We text a lot, so... I figured why not?”

Jisoo’s eyes widen, her excitement spilling over in a way that only she can manage. “Just dinner? No, no, no—this is a big deal. You’re going out with Jeon Jungkook. You know, the guy who practically owns the racing world and has models and celebrities lining up for him. This is huge! You can’t pretend like this isn’t something.”

She leans in, her voice lowering to a dramatic whisper. “Do you like him?”

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s just dinner,” you repeat, trying to sound confident, though you know it’s not convincing. “We’re not... anything. Just two people who happen to text each other.”

But Jisoo isn’t having it. “Sure, sure. Just two people who text all the time. If that’s how you wanna play it.”

You try to brush it off, but she’s already grabbing her laptop, her fingers flying over the keys as she pulls something up. “You know he’s not just some random guy, right?” she says, clicking away on the screen. “He’s Jeon Jungkook. The Jeon Jungkook. Always in the news, always dating the hottest models and actresses.”

She spins the laptop toward you, and your stomach drops as you glance at the headlines on the screen.

“Jeon Jungkook Spotted with Top Model, Sparks Dating Rumors.”“Jungkook and Celebrity Couple Call It Quits After ‘Toxic’ Relationship.”“Racer Jungkook and A-List Actress Enjoy Weekend Getaway Together.”

You feel a pit form in your stomach as you scroll through the headlines. Every article, every story paints him as the ultimate playboy, always surrounded by beautiful women, his love life a constant subject of media attention.

Your heart skips a beat as the realization sinks in. The thought of him, the real him, the man behind the fast cars and the flashing cameras, makes you hesitate.

What would you be doing on a date with him? What could you be to someone like him? Someone who’s always surrounded by perfection, by people who fit into his world of wealth and fame. You’re not that person. You’ve never been that person, and you don’t think you could ever be.

Jisoo leans back in her chair, watching you closely. “What’s going on? You’ve gone quiet. He’s clearly into you. And you’re obviously into him.. he wouldn’t be texting you this much if he wasn’t. You’re not going to let this chance slip away, are you?”

You don’t know how to answer. Your mind is already racing, your thoughts whirling with the images of Jungkook — his charm, his playboy reputation, his world. A world you have no place in.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The quiet of your apartment feels heavier than usual as you stand in front of the mirror, applying the last touches of makeup. The room is calm, but your mind is anything but. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Jungkook; his smile, his confidence, the way he looked when he walked into the VIP box. That pull, that unexpected attraction, it’s there, undeniable. But then, Jisoo’s words echo in your mind. The articles, the headlines, the endless list of women who had come and gone from his world — your world now, for the night, but likely not much longer.

You apply a dab of foundation, but it doesn’t seem to matter. You’re distracted, too distracted by the nagging voice in the back of your head. The voice that keeps reminding you of who he is, who he always is. A man who’s constantly in the press, surrounded by models, actresses, and headlines.

You tell yourself it’s just a casual meal, no pressure, no expectations. But you don’t believe it. Not really.

The silence of the apartment is broken by the faint buzz of your phone. You glance at it, hesitating for just a second before unlocking it. It’s TMZ, one of the countless gossip outlets that you’ve been skimming through all evening. You even turned on post notifications for his name.

Jungkook spotted with new celebrity, who’s next? You scroll, heart pounding, seeing pictures of him with various famous women, flashing their bright smiles at the camera as if the world is watching them fall in love. You swipe through articles on People, on entertainment blogs, seeing him with someone new every few weeks.

He’s always surrounded by them. The thought is impossible to shake. It’s a pattern, one you can’t ignore, one that only grows clearer as you scroll through each new piece of gossip. It’s like the world expects him to be with someone new every week. And yet, here you are, about to meet him for dinner, acting like you’re somehow special, somehow different from all the women who’ve come before you.

You let out a soft, frustrated sigh, but there’s no stopping it now. Your thumb keeps moving, clicking through one article after another. You see him with an actress, laughing over dinner. Another model, posing with him on a yacht. It’s endless, the parade of beautiful women who have come and gone in his life. And with each new article, you feel more and more like you’re out of place, like you’ll be just another name on the list.

But despite it all, there’s a part of you that can’t stop, can’t tear your eyes away from the screen. What would it be like to be the one who stays, instead of the one who’s replaced?

You push the thought away and focus on the mirror again, the reflection staring back at you looking more unsure than you’ve ever felt. It’s too late to back out now. You haven’t even given yourself a chance to. The time is ticking down, and you don’t want to cancel, not after agreeing to it. After all, it’s just dinner, right?

But the more you think about it, the harder it feels to convince yourself that it’s truly no big deal. He’s not the kind of guy you need in your life, you remind yourself, but the words feel hollow, like you’re trying to convince someone else.

Your phone buzzes again, this time with a message from Jungkook: “Almost there! It’s going to be fun.” The words are simple, but they feel like they’re carrying so much more weight than you want them to.

You glance at your reflection once more, taking in the slightly flushed cheeks and the nervous smile you force yourself to wear. It’s going to be fine. It’s just dinner. Nothing to worry about.

You grab your purse, give yourself one last look, and take a deep breath. The night ahead may be full of uncertainty, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

He’s clearly been well-raised, evident when he rolls up to your house and texts you that he’s arrived, with no rush whatsoever. It’s a shame he’s so mannered. Makes it harder to hate him.

The sleek black Lamborghini pulls up in front of your building, its engine purring like a lion waiting to sprint. The headlights flicker, and the engine cuts off as the door opens, revealing Jungkook. He steps out with his usual confidence, looking effortlessly put together in a bomber jacket, his casual yet polished style almost too perfect to ignore. For a second, it feels like a scene out of a movie; a world where people like him belong, and people like you… well, you barely know how to navigate it.

You walk down the steps, your heart rate quickening as he notices you. His eyes brighten, his lips curling into that same irresistible smile that you’ve become too familiar with through the screen of your phone. He steps closer, offering his hand, his gaze lingering on you like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“Wow,” he murmurs, his voice low but sincere. “You look... incredible.”

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks at the words, the compliment landing harder than you expected. You force yourself to maintain composure, but there’s no hiding the sudden wave of shyness that crashes over you. “Thank you,” you murmur, feeling small under the weight of his gaze. His eyes flicker down the length of your outfit, his approval written all over his face.

The car door opens, and Jungkook motions for you to get in. You hesitate just a moment, the overwhelming contrast between your world and his making you feel like you’re stepping into an entirely new dimension. But before you can second-guess yourself, you slide into the plush interior, the leather seats as soft as they look, the scent of expensive cologne and faint traces of him filling the air. He slides in next to you, the door shutting with a quiet thud.

Immediately, he glances over at you again, his gaze lingering, as if taking in every detail of your appearance. “I don’t know if you know this, but you’re seriously beautiful.” His words are easy, casual, but they hit you like a ton of bricks, and you’re not sure how to respond.

You look away, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. “Thanks, but you don’t have to keep saying that,” you mumble, trying to brush it off.

He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “I can’t help it,” he says, his voice playful. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

The car starts moving, the hum of the engine filling the silence between you as he drives. The city lights blur past the windows, but you barely notice them, your mind too focused on the man beside you, the constant warmth of his presence, and the way he keeps sneaking glances at you.

“So,” Jungkook says, his tone shifting a little, like he’s genuinely interested. “Tell me about your day. You said you work in corporate finance, right?”

You shift in your seat, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. You don’t typically talk about work unless you have to, but there’s something about the way he asks, so casually, so curious, that makes you want to open up. “Yeah, just… the usual stuff,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “Meetings, spreadsheets, presentations. It’s mostly numbers and data.”

Jungkook listens intently, but he can’t seem to stop glancing at you, his gaze flicking from the road to you every few seconds, as if he’s unable to tear his eyes away. You feel both flattered and awkward at the same time. It’s hard to ignore the way he watches you, as though you’re the most interesting thing in the world.

“You’re not a fan of the whole corporate scene, are you?” he says with a small smile, almost like he’s teasing you, but there’s something kind in his voice. “Seems like you’d rather be somewhere else.”

“I don’t mind it,” you reply softly, your eyes glued to the window now, hoping to hide the anxiety in your expression. “It’s just… it’s predictable. It’s easy. You know what to expect.”

Jungkook hums in thought, his gaze never fully leaving you. “And what about you? What’s the real you like? The one behind all the spreadsheets and numbers?” He asks, his voice dropping lower, like he’s waiting for you to give him a piece of yourself that no one else sees.

You hesitate, caught off guard by the question. It’s not that you don’t want to answer, but something about him makes it feel different—more intimate. You glance at him, catching his eyes for a moment before quickly looking away. “I guess I’m just... quiet. I like being on my own.”

“I can see that,” he says softly, glancing at you for another split second before focusing back on the road. “But you’re not so shy, are you? I feel like there’s more to you than you’re letting on.”

Your breath catches slightly at the challenge in his voice, and you glance over at him, caught off guard by how easily he reads you. You’re not used to this, not used to someone peeling back your layers without asking for permission. It feels strange and oddly comforting, but you push it aside, trying to hide your nervousness.

You laugh softly, trying to downplay it. “I’m just... not great at this. Talking. In person.” Your voice trails off, and you quickly glance out the window, hoping the coolness of the outside air will help you regain your composure. “I’m better with emails. Or texts.”

Jungkook’s smile is effortless, that teasing glint in his eyes never leaving as he glances at you again. “I don’t know, I think you’re doing just fine so far. It’s cute, actually. You’re like... one of those quiet but interesting types.” His tone is light, teasing, but there’s something deeper in the way he looks at you. It makes your heart race, and you suddenly feel the weight of his gaze, warm and persistent.

“I’m not interesting,” you mutter, a slight shrug escaping your shoulders. “Just quiet and boring, really.”

He chuckles, and you can’t help but feel that little flutter in your chest as the sound fills the space between you. “Boring? I don’t think so. You might surprise yourself.”

You shake your head, turning back to the window, your mind buzzing with his words. “You think? I don’t know, I kinda like the boring side of me,” you say softly, not looking at him but hoping he hears the hint in your voice.

He doesn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, there’s only the hum of the engine, the city lights flickering past in a blur. But then, his voice breaks the silence again, softer this time. “I think you’d be surprised.”

You glance back at him, catching that hint of something deeper in his expression—a mix of curiosity and understanding that makes you feel like he sees right through your walls. It’s unsettling and comforting all at once.

Before you can say anything else, the car slows to a stop, pulling up in front of a restaurant that takes your breath away. It’s one of those places you’ve heard about but never thought you’d actually step foot in—a sleek, modern building with huge glass windows that gleam under the city lights. The sign outside is simple, elegant, just the name of the restaurant in delicate gold lettering: Le Jardin.

The valet opens your door before you can even process it, and Jungkook steps out, offering his hand to help you out of the car. You take it, your fingers brushing his for a moment, and you can feel the spark of electricity between you. He flashes you that signature grin, his eyes never leaving yours. Really, you’re about to melt into the asphalt and become one with the concrete. “This place doesn’t mess around,” he says, a playful note in his voice. “Hope you’re ready.”

You look up at the restaurant, the smooth, minimalist design contrasting against the sprawling city skyline behind it. The entrance is framed by soft lighting, the large doors welcoming you into an atmosphere that feels both exclusive and comfortable at the same time. There’s a buzz of excitement coming from inside—the soft hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and a faint trace of delicious aromas drifting out to meet you.

“Wow,” you whisper, caught off guard by how beautiful it all is. “This is... really nice.”

Jungkook smiles, stepping a little closer as he opens the door for you. “I thought you deserved something a little special. Don’t worry, the food’s good too,” he adds, his tone light but warm.

As you step inside, you’re greeted by the soft sound of a live jazz band in the corner, their music floating through the air like a melody meant only for tonight. The decor is understated yet luxurious—dark wood paneling, golden accents, and soft lighting that makes everything feel intimate and quiet. The hostess leads you to a private table by the window, where the view of the city sprawls out in front of you, the lights below twinkling like stars.

Jungkook pulls out your chair for you, and you sit down, feeling a little lost in the grandeur of it all. You glance at him, and he’s already looking at you, that same easy smile on his lips.

“I figured you’d need a place to relax,” he says, his voice a little quieter now, the teasing tone replaced by something softer. “Just you, me, and a good meal. No pressure.”

You can’t help but smile, a little shy but grateful for the unexpected ease that seems to settle around you both.

The restaurant hums softly around you, the gentle clinking of glasses and low murmur of conversations filling the space, but somehow, it feels like you and Jungkook exist in a quiet pocket of your own.

The candlelight flickers between you, casting soft shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, the dark glint in his eyes that never seems to waver. He looks comfortable here, like he belongs anywhere he goes, his presence effortless and magnetic.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbow on the table, his chin balanced on his hand. “Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”

You pause, caught off guard. “No one?”

He smirks. “Fine, maybe not no one, but something that most people wouldn’t guess about you.”

You hesitate, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you glance down at your silverware. “I don’t know… I’m not exactly full of surprises.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he counters easily. “Come on. Something small. Like… do you have a weird talent? A guilty pleasure? Do you secretly love something embarrassing?”

You huff a small laugh, playing with the stem of your wine glass that is being filled with white wine by a waiter who avoids all eye contact. “I mean… I guess I really like puzzles?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like jigsaw puzzles?”

You nod, a little sheepish. “Yeah. I find them relaxing.”

A grin tugs at his lips. “So while other people unwind with a drink, you sit in a quiet room putting little pieces of a puzzle together?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not that weird.”

He chuckles, eyes dancing with amusement. “I didn’t say it was weird. I just… wasn’t expecting it.”

You tilt your head. “What were you expecting?”

Jungkook leans back slightly, tapping his fingers against his glass. “I don’t know. Something more… high maintenance.”

You blink. “High maintenance?”

He shrugs, smirking. “You work in corporate finance, you always look put together, and you don’t exactly let people in easily. I figured maybe your version of unwinding would be something a little more... extravagant.”

You scoff. “Like what? Spa weekends? Shopping sprees?”

Jungkook shrugs again, playful. “Maybe. Or maybe something ridiculously expensive. Like, I don’t know… collecting rare wines?”

You shake your head with a laugh. “I think I’m way less interesting than you think I am.”

“Disagree,” he says smoothly, watching you intently. “I think you just don’t realize how intriguing you are.”

You feel the heat creep up your neck, caught between embarrassment and the sickening effect his words have on you. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not,” he murmurs, still studying you like he’s trying to figure you out. “You’re quiet, but it’s not because you don’t have things to say. You just choose when to say them.”

You swallow, suddenly feeling exposed, like he’s seeing right through you. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

He shakes his head. “No. I like it.”

Your breath hitches slightly, and you glance away, needing a moment to collect yourself. “Your turn,” you say quickly, shifting the attention back to him. “Tell me something most people wouldn’t guess about you.”

Jungkook hums, considering. “Most people think I love being around crowds. That I thrive on attention.”

You glance at him. “And you don’t?”

He exhales, swirling his drink slightly. “I mean, I don’t hate it. But I like being alone more than people think.”

That surprises you. “Really?”

He nods. “When you’re always surrounded by people, you start to crave silence. After races, I go to the afterparty, make my appearances. But then I go home, sit on my couch, and watch movies.” He smirks. “Or maybe I’d do a puzzle, if I had any.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Jungkook leans forward again, resting his arms on the table. “What about you? Do you like being alone?”

You hesitate, then nod. “I do. I’ve always been that way. I think I just… feel more at ease when I don’t have to think about how I come across to people.”

Jungkook studies you for a long moment, then tilts his head. “So why’d you agree to dinner with me?”

You freeze slightly, caught in the directness of his question.

He smirks. “I mean, if you like being alone so much, what made you finally say yes?”

You glance down at your full wine glass, biting your lip. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I guess I was curious.”

Jungkook grins. “Curious about me?”

You exhale, shaking your head. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

He chuckles, watching you for a moment before his voice drops just a little. “I’m glad you did.”

You meet his gaze, and for a second, the air between you feels charged, heavy with something unsaid.

You clear your throat, taking a sip of wine, letting the cool liquid slide down your burning throat. “I’m still trying to figure you out, though.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “And?”

“You’re not what I expected,” you admit softly, stirring your wine glass idly between your fingers.

Jungkook leans forward slightly, tilting his head. “What did you expect?”

You hesitate, your shyness creeping back in. “I don’t know,” you murmur. “Someone more… I guess I assumed you’d be a little arrogant, maybe a little full of yourself.”

His lips curve into a lazy smile. “And I’m not?”

You bite your lip, suppressing a small laugh. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Jungkook chuckles, resting his forearm on the table as he watches you. “You know, most people don’t say things like that to me.”

You shrug, swirling the wine in your glass. “Most people probably don’t think you’d care what they really think.”

He studies you for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “And what about you?”

You glance up at him. “What about me?”

He leans in just slightly, his voice quieter now, as if drawing you into something more private, more profound. “Do you think I care what you think?”

Your heart stumbles over itself, caught in the weight of his gaze. He’s been watching you all night, but this feels different—like he’s really trying to pull something from you, something you’re not used to sharing.

You break eye contact, reaching for your wine, taking a slow sip to steady yourself. The warmth of the alcohol buzzes through you, loosening your nerves, making you feel a little braver than before.

You exhale, setting the glass down. “I think…” You pause, then glance at him, suddenly emboldened. “I think I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “At a restaraunt?”

“With me.”

His smile is immediate, slow and knowing. “Ah.”

You narrow your eyes slightly at his expression. “What?”

He smirks, swirling his own drink. “You’ve been thinking about that a lot, huh?”

Your face warms instantly. “I—”

“It’s okay.” He leans back against his chair, watching you with that same playful glint in his eyes. “I like that you’re curious.”

You huff, slightly embarrassed but pushing forward. “I just don’t get it,” you admit, feeling the wine soften your usual hesitations. “You could be having dinner with anyone. You do have dinner with everyone.”

His expression flickers, but he doesn’t seem surprised by the comment. “Ah,” he hums, taking a sip of his drink. “So you’ve been researching.”

You freeze.

Jungkook grins, tilting his head. “Did a little deep dive on me, huh?”

You immediately shake your head, your face burning. “No! I mean—” You falter, knowing full well you’ve skimmed far too many articles in the past twenty-four hours. “I just—my coworker Jisoo showed me some stuff, and then I might have—”

“Scrolled through Twitter?” he finishes for you, his smirk widening.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “I knew you were going to tease me for this.”

Jungkook laughs, rich and warm. “I mean, I was wondering if you saw all that. I’d be naive not to.” He pauses, studying you. “And? Did you like what you read?”

You lower your hands slowly, glaring at him. “I think ‘like’ is the wrong word.”

His lips twitch. “Fair.”

You hesitate for a moment, then take another sip of wine, gathering the courage to ask the real question that’s been gnawing at you. “Is it true?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Which part?”

“The models. The celebrities. All of it.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he studies you for a moment, fingers lightly tracing the rim of his glass. His expression softens, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter than before.

“I’ve gone out with people,” he admits, his gaze steady on yours. “But I think people like to assume more than what’s real.”

You frown slightly. “So it’s all fake?”

“Not all of it.” He shrugs. “But it’s easy for people to turn a casual dinner into a ‘secret romance.’ People like stories. They like the fantasy of it all.”

You absorb his words, letting them settle.

“And what about this?” you ask, gesturing between the two of you. “Is this just another story?”

Jungkook smiles, but this time, it’s softer, more thoughtful. “I don’t know yet,” he says honestly. “But I knew I wanted to see you again.”

You feel your breath hitch slightly at his words, at the way he says them so easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like you being here, across from him, means something.

You shake your head slightly, exhaling. “So how did you even get my name?”

He grins, leaning forward slightly, his voice playful again. “You really want to know?”

“Yes?”

His grin widens. “I have my ways.”

You groan. “That’s not an answer.”

He chuckles. “Let’s just say I’m good at finding what I want.”

You swallow hard at that, looking away, feeling like the room is suddenly a little warmer.

Jungkook watches you, his gaze lingering, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he picks up his glass, tilts it slightly toward you. “Now, tell me. Did any of your research make you want to cancel dinner with me?”

You hesitate, your fingers playing with the stem of your glass.

“…I thought about it,” you admit.

Jungkook smirks. “And yet, you came. Here you are.”

Your lips press together as you shake your head, exhaling a quiet laugh. “Yeah,” you say, glancing up at him. “Here I am.”

His smile deepens, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you’ve fallen into something you might not be able to climb out of. Your stomach flips at the way he looks at you, like he’s letting you in on something no one else gets to see.

And there is a real reason you’re like this, why you operate the way you do. Why you keep your distance, why you hesitate to let anyone in. You’ve only ever been with one person before—your first everything. First love, first kiss, first heartbreak. The kind of first that marks you in ways you can’t quite explain, leaves an imprint on you no matter how much time passes. He was steady, familiar, someone who made sense in the quiet, predictable life you’d built for yourself. And maybe that’s why it hurt when it ended—because you had given so much of yourself to something that didn’t last.

You tell yourself it’s better this way, to keep your heart guarded, to never let anyone close enough to leave a mark. And that’s exactly why this—whatever this is—with Jungkook, can’t happen. You know that. But somehow, sitting across from him, feeling the way his eyes linger on you, the way he makes you feel seen in a way you haven’t in so long—it’s hard to remind yourself of all the reasons why you should walk away.

But you will.

You have to.

The night begins to wind down, the warmth of the meal settling in your stomach, the haze of wine softening the usual sharp edges of your thoughts. Jungkook waves over the waiter before you can even think about reaching for your purse, handing over his black card with an ease that reminds you just how different your worlds are.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur, fiddling with the napkin in your lap.

He smirks. “I did actually. It’s part of my plan.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Your plan?”

Jungkook leans forward slightly, his voice dipping lower. “Yeah. Impress you just enough to get you to agree to see me again.”

Your breath halts slightly, pausing on an inhale, but before you can react, the waiter returns with his receipt, and just like that, dinner is over.

As you both stand, your heart does a slow tumble in your chest, reality seeping back in now that the night is drawing to a close. This was supposed to be a simple dinner—just one meal, one conversation. But as you follow Jungkook toward the entrance, something inside you tightens. Maybe it’s because you know this isn’t your world, that stepping into it, even just for one evening, is already dangerous enough.

And then you see them.

Flashes of light. Cameras. Figures moving just beyond the glass doors. Paparazzi.

Your stomach drops.

Jungkook notices immediately, his hand hovering slightly near your back as you freeze in place. “Hey,” he says softly, barely above a whisper. “You okay?”

You can’t move, can’t breathe. You knew who he was, knew what being near someone like him meant, but seeing it like this—seeing people waiting just to capture you walking out of a restaurant with him—it makes something tighten in your chest.

“I—” Your voice comes out too soft, unsteady. Your fingers curl slightly at your sides.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. He catches onto your panic immediately.

“Come on.” His voice is calm, steady. He reaches for your wrist, his touch light but firm, guiding you before you can overthink it. “We’ll go out the back.”

You don’t argue, don’t even process what’s happening until you’re suddenly being pulled through the dimly lit kitchen, past startled chefs and waiters who barely give Jungkook a second glance—like they’re used to this, like it’s just another night.

Your feet move quickly to keep up, your heart hammering in your chest. The scent of garlic and seared meat lingers in the air, the faint clatter of pans somewhere behind you. Jungkook maneuvers through the space like he’s done this a hundred times before, like avoiding cameras is just another part of his routine.

Then—he pauses, and you nearly bump into his broad shoulders.

The alley exit is just ahead, but the hallway narrows, and as another kitchen staff member passes by with a heavy tray, Jungkook instinctively moves closer to you.

Too close.

Your back brushes against the cold steel countertop behind you, and suddenly, there’s barely any space left between you. His hand is still wrapped loosely around your wrist, his body angled slightly toward yours.

You can feel him. The warmth radiating off his skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark eyes flicker down to yours.

You’re suddenly hyperaware of everything—the weight of his palm, the way his fingers flex slightly, the faint scent of cologne wrapping around you like a trap you don’t know how to escape from.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything at first. Just looks at you, watches the way your breathing has shifted, the way your lips part slightly like you’re about to say something but can’t seem to find the words.

“You’re fidgeting,” he finally murmurs, his voice low, almost amused.

You swallow hard, not trusting yourself to respond.

His gaze drops for just a second—to the way your fingers curl against the counter behind you, to the way your chest rises with each breath. And then—slowly—his eyes meet yours again. “You nervous?”

Your face burns. “No.”

Jungkook smiles, just slightly, like he doesn’t believe you at all. Honestly, you don’t even believe yourself. He must be delusional to think you wouldn’t be antsy in a ten-mile radius of him.

You clear your throat, suddenly desperate to move, to create distance, but your body betrays you, frozen in place. He hasn’t let go of your wrist yet, but his touch is light now, lingering rather than leading.

“You okay?” His voice is softer now, lacking the teasing edge from before.

You exhale shakily, finally managing to break the tension by stepping to the side, out of his hold. “Yeah,” you murmur, not sounding convincing at all. “Just… not used to this.”

Jungkook nods, like he understands. “You will be.”

You blink up at him, startled by his response. “What makes you so sure?”

He tilts his head, smirking. “Because I’m not planning on this being the last time I take you to dinner.”

Your stomach flips violently.

Before you can respond, he pushes open the exit door, leading you out into the cool night air, away from the flashing cameras. You savor the below freezing temperature, shocking you out of how down bad you are, like someone just splashed cold water on you and told you to get it together.

But even as you step outside, even as you breathe in the crisp air and try to collect yourself, you know one thing for certain.

You don’t know what you’re getting into—Jeon Jungkook is dangerous.

And not just because of the cameras. But because of the fact that your heart is racing and all he’s doing is holding your wrist.

The night air is crisp as Jungkook leads you toward the valet attendant waiting for you two with his sleek car parked by the curb. He pulls some cash out of his wallet, handing it to him as the valet stands by the door. Ever the gentlemen, Jungkook pulls the car door open for you. There’s something so effortless about the way he moves, the way he guides you inside with the smallest touch at the small of your back. It should be intimidating—the way he commands space, the way he knows he has a presence. But it isn’t.

It’s something else.

Something that makes your stomach twist, something that makes your thoughts run faster than you can keep up with.

You slide into the car, the leather seats cool beneath you, the city lights reflecting off the tinted windows. Jungkook settles in beside you, his presence filling the space between you, even though he keeps a respectable distance. The car door shuts, and he pulls away from the restaurant, the hum of the engine smooth against the quiet tension that lingers in the air.

Jungkook shifts slightly, resting his arm against the console, other hand extended towards the wheel. He’s glancing at you again, the way he always does—with curiosity, with something unreadable flickering behind his dark eyes.

“So,” he says, his voice low, intimate in the enclosed space. “When do I get to see you again?”

The question is easy, natural, as if it’s already decided. As if this—whatever the flying fuck this is—is already something that’s meant to continue.

You swallow, fingers curling slightly against your lap.

Now, see, this is the part you were afraid of.

Because no matter what he says, no matter how genuine he sounds, you know he’s good at this. You’ve read the articles, seen the photos. You know the patterns. And even if he doesn’t mean to, even if he thinks this is something different—he is still who he is.

He is Jeon Jungkook.

And you… you are just you.

Your pulse flutters uneasily. “Jungkook…”

He tilts his head, waiting.

You exhale softly, forcing yourself to look over at him. “I’m not really… ready to be with anyone right now.”

The words feel strange as they leave your lips, because they’re not entirely true. You could be with someone. You could let yourself get close. But it isn’t anyone you’re afraid of. It’s him.

For the first time tonight, you see something flicker in his expression, something almost vulnerable before it’s quickly masked with understanding. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just watches you, his fingers now drumming lightly against his knee, like he’s considering his next words carefully.

And then, instead of pushing, instead of pressing for more, he does something you don’t expect.

He smiles. Not in a teasing way, not cocky. Just soft.

“That’s okay,” he says, nodding slightly. “I get it.”

You blink. “You do?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I mean, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bummed, but…” He pauses, exhaling. “I like hanging out with you. Even if it’s just as friends.”

Friends.

You’re not sure why the word makes something tighten in your chest.

“I don’t know if I’d be a very exciting friend,” you admit, trying to lighten the moment.

Jungkook chuckles, his lip piercing catching the light as he shifts. “I think that’s what I like about you.”

Your breath hitches slightly. “What?”

“You’re normal,” he says, shrugging. “You don’t try too hard. You don’t treat me like I’m some celebrity or some… I don’t know, fantasy. You just let me be a guy in a grocery store picking out snacks.”

You look down, biting the inside of your cheek. “Well, technically, I treated you like someone who doesn’t know how to grocery shop.”

Jungkook laughs, his head tilting back slightly. “Even better.”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “So… you really want to be friends?”

He nods. “Yeah. I could use more normal friends.”

You hesitate, but then finally exhale. “Okay. Friends.”

As he pulls up to a red light, Jungkook grins, turning to you, pinky finger outstretched. “Promise?”

You stare at him, incredulous. “Are you seriously asking for a pinky promise right now?”

He smirks. “I take my friendships very seriously.”

You roll your eyes but lift your pinky anyway, linking it with his. His fingers are warm against yours, his touch lingering even as he slowly pulls away.

For a moment, the air between you feels lighter. Easier. But before you can get too comfortable—he speaks again.

“So… as friends,” he drawls, tilting his head. “I can still see you, right?”

You hesitate, but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes it impossible to say no.

“…Yeah,” you murmur. “That’s fine.”

Jungkook grins, satisfied. “Good.”

And you really have no one to blame but yourself when you make the mistake of looking at his lips.

The way he licks them absentmindedly, the way his tongue glides across the silver ring before catching it between his teeth, playing with the metal like it’s a habit he doesn’t even realize he has.

It’s unfair, really.

Your throat goes dry, and you quickly look away, hoping he didn’t catch it.

But of course, he did. Damn it, Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook hums. “Something wrong?”

You shake your head too quickly. “Nope.”

He smirks but doesn’t push. Instead, he leans back against the drivers seat, stretching his legs slightly before glancing back at the road. “We’re almost at your place.”

You nod, trying to focus on anything other than the warmth still lingering in your pinky from earlier.

The car slows as he pulls up to your apartment. Jungkook watches as you gather your things, but before you can reach for the door handle, he speaks again. You should invest in duct tape for his mouth if he’s going to make your heart palpitate everytime he opens it.

“Hey.”

You turn, meeting his gaze.

“This was fun,” he says, voice softer now. “I’m glad you agreed.”

Something about the way he says it makes your chest ache.

You swallow. “Yeah. Me too.”

You hesitate, then add, “Thanks for dinner.”

Jungkook grins. “Anytime, friend.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips.

With that, you step out of the car, closing the door behind you. As the car pulls away, disappearing into the night, you let out a slow breath.

Friends.

You can do that.

You have to.

Even if, deep down, you already know: nothing about Jeon Jungkook feels like something you can keep at arm’s length.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

taglist ; @yooniepot @bookstoread199 @pipipipiiiii @someonegoood @vintagemoonsstuff @kittisuuuuu @ttanniett @loonareads @jincapableoflove @jkxlvrr @taekrve @jenniebyrubies @senaqsstuff @somisarchive @somehowukook @mysjammy @busanbby-jjk @mimi1097 @mikrokosmosellen @indyuhhhhh @vantelover1306 @haru-jiminn @sky-23s-world @minimoninini @bighitfics @mellyyyyyyx @outofworldvy @smartkive @dontcallmeelle @beomluvrr @tatamicc @seokout @ashslight @avawants2havefun @bjoriis @jjeonjjk7 @parkinglot-nights @coletaehyung @mar-lo-pap

[on-my-contrarian-sh1t]

fool 4 u - steve harrington x reader

A/N: why am i on a writing grind lowk ... hope you like it :) TWS: cursing, kissing, alcohol, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drugs

Steve Harrington was a fool for you.

That was a fact.

You were a fool for Steve Harrington.

Also a fact.

Neither of you knew about the other one being infatuated.

An aggravating fact.

You and Steve had been best friends since forever basically. You couldn’t remember a time when Steve wasn’t in your life and Steve couldn’t remember a time when you weren’t in his. You had lived across from each other since your family moved to Hawkins. You two had originally bonded over the fact that both of you seemed to have absent parents. Then, you ended up growing up together. You had been the only one to suffer through his “King Steve” era. Reluctantly, of course. And you were also the one to talk him out of it. Steve appreciated you so much. Eventually, he ended up catching feelings for you. You had always had a little crush on Steve but you always talked yourself out of it, convincing yourself you simply weren’t his type. He had a very “no-holds-barred” stance when it came to asking girls out. He would shamelessly flirt with girls, ask them out, and he handled rejection like a man. He wouldn’t get pissy, he wouldn’t get angry. He’d simply say something nonchalant like, “Ah, I understand. Just figured I’d ask.” or “Don’t apologize, don’t worry. No harm in asking, right?” And it honestly made quite a few of the girls change their minds. He was a good person. You admired that about him.

Every Friday night, Steve would drive over to your house. He’d go straight from work and maybe bring a movie. The two of you would cook together, drink, and watch a movie. Occasionally maybe a joint would be passed around but that was really rare. It had only happened a handful of times. You were a nervous druggie and would inevitably get emotional, so emotional that it was insufferable. Steve didn’t find it insufferable. He found it endearing. But still, you spared him. Steve didn’t like getting high for the sole reason of how much it reminded him of high school. You asked him about it once and he said, “It’s not me anymore. That’s just it. That’s King Steve. Not me.” You understood. Of course you did. You always did. You replied, “You know, when you talk about yourself in third person it’s not nearly as hot as you think it is, bigshot.” He threw a pillow at you. “King Steve begs to differ.” It would always lead in a pillow fight.

Every Saturday night, Steve would pick you up from work since you worked an hour later than him on Saturdays and he’d take you back to his place and the two of you would cook together and spend time together. You insisted he didn’t have to, that you were perfectly capable of getting yourself back and forth. He always said, “You can’t even drive. You’re just gonna walk everywhere?” And you replied, “I walk myself back and forth every day. You only care about me on Saturdays.” You knew it wasn’t like he had a choice, you just liked to prod at him. He would always laugh. “That’s not true. I care about you on Sundays too.”

It was Saturday and Steve was in your driveway. It was only seconds before you heard a knock on your door. 

“It’s your favorite person,” you heard Steve call. “Let me in.”

“Andrew Mccarthy, is that really you?” you called back, opening the door. You loved to harass him more than anything. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Ha, ha,” replied Steve with a huff, kissing your cheek before sliding past you into your house. 

“Well, that’s a new one,” you said, closing the door and following him into the living room. “Since when are you a kisser?”

“Since watching La Dolce Vita,” he replied proudly. “It’s really good. You should watch it sometime. Italian movie. Very European, very classy. Maybe it’d help with your American rudeness.”

You swatted him. “Mhm, funny. You’re a real stitch, you know that, Harrington? Did you even comprehend La Dolce Vita? I may have American rudeness but you have American stupidity. No amount of Italian movies will change that.”

“You’re mean to me, I don’t like you,” muttered Steve as he got the movie situated.

“Liar, you love me,” you replied with a smile.

“You’re right, I do love you,” Steve said earnestly, glancing up at you.

You were taken aback by that. You would’ve stuttered something awkward back but Steve went back to getting the movie up and running so you didn’t have to.

“So… what’s the movie for tonight?” you asked as you sat down on your couch. “Something good, I hope. Not like Overboard, I beg.”

“You know you’re the only person ever to hate Overboard,” said Steve, turning around to glance at you. “Like ever.”

“I don’t hate Overboard, that’s being generous. I despise it with every inch of my wellbeing.”

“Not a single inch of your being is well,” he replied with an eye-roll.

“Tommy H would disagree,” you replied with a big shit-eating grin and a cackle. That was Steve’s final straw. He threw a pillow at you.

“You’re sick,” he snapped. “Sick, I tell you. Tommy H is a pervert and an asshole and–”

“And he was your best friend so can it,” you interrupted with laughter. You knew the Tommy H comment would get under his skin. 

Steve huffed.

You huffed just to mock him.

“You never answered my question,” you spoke up after a minute of silence.

“Sorry, I figured you were too busy to hear me over all that drooling and creaming over your boy, Tommy,” Steve retorted.

“Stevie,” you said between fresh, renewed laughs. “Baby. I hate Tommy. I love to mess with you. There’s a difference.”

Steve thanked all things holy that he was facing the TV and not you or else you would’ve seen his terrible blush and without a doubt made fun of him.

“Uh huh,” he muttered but believed you. “We’re watching Cocktail.”

Steve got the movie playing and both of you agreed that you didn’t feel like cooking anything nor were you hungry. Steve just escaped to your kitchen to get beers for both of you. 

As the movie progressed, the two of you got slowly more inebriated. Steve, not as much. He had always been able to handle his alcohol impressively well – he only got drunk once. The summer before senior year. He had been pissed off at his dad and all his bad decisions were made out of spite. He went to a party and got so drunk that you had to call Eddie Munson, the only person you knew who wouldn’t make a big fuss and would probably be sober, to help you get him home. You, however, couldn’t handle your alcohol in the slightest. One hour in and you were a giggling mess. Somehow the two of you had found your way closer to each other and your legs were draped over his and his arm was around you. This was way further than it had ever gotten between the two of you.

The movie finished and you were left curled onto Steve like a koala. Steve was tipsy now as well.

“We need to find a better tradition,” Steve said, kissing the top of your head. “You’re drunk after one beer. That’s a problem. Maybe we can paint or something instead.”

“No,” you mumbled against his shoulder. 

“Okay,” he replied with a smile. “No, then.”

“Stevie,” you murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, gazing down at you with blown pupils.

“No,” you said. “Not like that. I love you.”

Steve went still. “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” you said, looking up at him. “I can’t go on without telling you. Sober-me might hate that I did that. You might hate me too. I don’t know. I just–”

Steve kissed you. He was a shy kisser. Which you didn’t expect. Every time you imagined being kissed by him it was always where he was a bit forceful and confident. You never expected him to be gentle and timid. His hand found its way to the crook of your neck, his thumb tracing your jawline. One of your hands slid to his chest. The two of you stayed like that for a long time. It was only when you both desperately needed air that you stopped.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit. Only the sound of panting and the feeling of your heartbeats, in sync and beating forcefully and almost painfully.

“So,” said Steve first. “So, I have to say, that didn’t seem very platonic of us.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“Yeah but you like it.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

brown jacket and a thick accent ~ tangerine;bullet train

word count: 3124

request?: no

description: who's the cute boy with the brown jacket and the thick accent? maybe it's all in her head, but she thinks they'd have really good bed chem

pairing: tangerine x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, oral m receiving, protected sex (tangerine isn't risking nothing and neither should you!), multiple orgasms, aftercare)

masterlist (one, two, three)

based on this song (but y'all probably guessed that lmao)

I noticed his suit first. It was hard not to notice. No one ever casually wore a three piece suit. But he was, and he looked damn good in that suit.

And then I heard him speak.

He was walking past, grumbling some complaints to his companion, and I almost spun around to ask him to speak to me more. He had the hottest British accent I had ever heard. Like, panty dropping hot.

Soon enough, though, he was gone, and I was sure I'd never see him again because of this stupid long bullet train.

But then, I was at the bar in my Kyoto hotel when I heard a familiar voice down the bar ask, "Whisky on the rocks please, love."

When I looked, there he was. Shedding a brown tweed jacket to reveal his blue suit. The bartender placed his drink in front of him and he mumbled a soft "Thank you." I tore my eyes away from him, trying not to seem like a creep for staring. But it was like he was a magnet, because my eyes were drawn back to him very quickly. Trying to look away seemed impossible now. I was trying to remember every detail about him, for when we'd inevitably part ways and I'd only have my memory of him.

"It's impolite to stare, darling."

I jumped at the sound of his voice. I shouldn't have been shocked. I wasn't being subtle at all in my staring, and there wasn't anyone else at the bar. There was no going back now, so I may as well embrace it.

"It's not every day you see a handsome British man in a suit in Japan," I responded.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I suppose not."

"What are you all dressed up for anyways?"

He paused a moment before responding, "Work."

His hesitance made me think he was lying, but I didn't know the man so I wasn't about to call him out for it. Instead, I teased, "Must be some boring corporate job if you have to go around in a suit."

He chuckled. "You could say that."

We fell silent again. I turned back to my drink, almost empty now. Once it was finished, I'd have to go back to my room. I couldn't sit around the car all night just to gaze at the hot British man. Even though I really wanted to.

I was taking the last sip of my drink when the bartender came over and placed another drink in front of me. I looked up at her in confusion. Before I could tell her I hadn't ordered another drink, she said, "From your friend over there."

I looked over to see hot British man already watching me. He smiled and raised his own glass at me.

"That's very kind of you, business man," I said.

"Call me Tangerine."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Tangerine? Like the fruit?"

He nodded. There was no hint of humor in his expression, so I guess he was being serious. I bit back another teasing comment that was on the tip of my tongue. We may have been going back and forth, and it may have just been playful flirting anyways, but the man had bought me a drink. I shouldn't push my luck.

After a few sips, I found myself moving to sit next to Tangerine. Soon enough, one drink became two, and I returned his generosity by ordering two more drinks for him. And then the three drinks total started to hit, and my filter went completely out the window. I wasn't drunk enough to forget anything that I was saying, so I knew once I was sober I'd regret it all, but for now I was tipsy and I had the attention of an attractive British man.

Eventually, three drinks each turned into leaving the bar together. Leaving the bar turned into waiting in the elevator to go up to his room. Waiting in the elevator turned into Tangerine's lips on mine, kissing me hungrily. He pressed me against the elevator wall, his tongue slipping past my lips. I could taste the whisky he had been drinking. It made me feel even more intoxicated.

His hand slipped under my skirt. I gasped as he traced his fingers up my thigh, getting extremely close to where I needed him most.

Then the elevator dinged and his hand was gone. He had the two of us straightened up before the doors opened, revealing a group of young women dressed for a night on the town. Their eyes immediately landed on Tangerine, drinking him in from head to toe. He smiled at them, took my hand, and walked past them towards his room. I could feel their eyes boring into us as we walked away, but I was too focused on wanting to finish what we had started in the elevator.

Tangerine was quick to unlock the door. No keycard fumbling or anything. He was just so smooth. He opened the door and gestured for me to go in. Once he shut the door behind us, he was on me again. His hand was between my thighs again, this time getting to the place I needed. His fingers skated over my clothed core, causing me to whimper against his lips.

"So wet already," he noted. "You always get wet this easily?"

I shook my head. He smirked. "So this is all for me?"

I nodded, then gasped when he pressed against my clit.

"Cat got your tongue, love?"

I wanted to bite back with the same teasing nature I had at the bar, but my mind was cloudy now. I could barely form a coherent thought, let alone put those thoughts into words. All I could think of was how good his fingers felt rubbing circles into my clit. I had a few one night stands, and very rarely could a guy ever find my clit, let alone knowing how to use it to make me feel good. But Tangerine read my body language so flawlessly and knew exactly what to do to pleasure me.

When his fingers slipped past my underwear and into my sopping cunt, I let out a loud moan. I managed to come to my senses enough to quickly clap a hand over my mouth, but Tangerine pulled it away with the hand that wasn't deep in me.

"Don't you dare cover up those pretty noises," he warned.

"B-But the o-other p-people."

"I don't give a fuck about no noise complaint, love. I want this whole hotel to know how good I make you feel."

As if to punctuate his point, he curled his fingers inside of me, making me yelp. He massaged the spongey spot, making my vision blur and my knees buckle. Tangerine held me as I started to tremble, my orgasm washing over me so suddenly I barley even had time to register it was happening. He whispered praises in my ear as he continued to finger fuck me through my high. When it became too much, I put a hand over his wrist and he understood the message.

He pulled his hand from between my legs and brought his fingers to his mouth. I felt a new heat forming within me as I watched him suck his fingers clean, his eyes never leaving mine as he did so.

"Just as sweet as I expected," he said.

With that, I was finally able to regain control of my body. I dropped to my knees in front of Tangerine and started pulling at his belt. He watched me, an amused smile on his face, as I finally unclasped his belt and pulled it through the loops. I discarded it somewhere onto the floor, and made quick work of unbuttoning his pants. As I was pulling both his pants and his boxers down his legs, he tossed his tweed jacket and his blue blazer aside and was starting to unbutton his dress shirt. I would've liked to completely undress him myself, but at this moment the only thing on my mind was returning the pleasure he had given to me.

His cock had sprung free mere inches from my face, red and hard. I silently thanked whoever was watching over me that he had a decently sized cock. Too many hookups often ended in disappointment when the pants came off.

I wrapped my hand around the base and pumped him a few times before putting the tip in my mouth. Tangerine let out a breathy moan as I swirled my tongue around the tip, then slowly took him into my mouth as much as I can. Whatever I couldn't take, I kept my hand around. I slowly started to bob my head, up and down his shaft. I flattened my tongue under him, letting him rest against it as I pulled his dick all the way out of my mouth then slowly put it back in. He was groaning, reaching down to tangle his fingers in my hair. He didn't force me to change my speed or to take him deeper. He just held my hair in his fist, watching me as I kept going up and down, up and down.

I started to pump just a little, moving my hand in time with my mouth. I didn't want this moment to be over too soon, but I wanted him to feel good. And I could tell by the sounds he was making that I was definitely achieving my goal. Between moans he gave me more breathless praises, telling me that I was doing a good job. When I looked up at him, we locked eyes. I held eye contact as I took him as deep as I could go, and just held him there. He was heavy on my tongue, and he tasted just as sweet as he claimed I did.

After a moment, Tangerine shuttered and pulled at the hair still tangled around his fist. He pulled me completely off of him and to my feet. He crashed his lips against mine again, this kiss a more needy than our first one in the elevator.

"I wouldn't have lasted much longer like that, love," he said. "And if I cum before I get to be inside of you I think I'll be right angry with myself."

All I could manage in response was a whimper. And there was his smirk once again.

He finally led me further into his room, to the bed. Along the way, he stripped me of my shirt and pulled my skirt around my ankles. I was left in just my panties and bra as he lightly pushed me to bend me over the bed. I expected him to rip my panties off and to start fucking me right then and there, but he didn't. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and turned to see that he had gone to his suitcase. I was about to ask what he was doing, until he came up with a foil packet in his hand.

"You carry condoms when you go on business trips?" I asked.

He shrugged. "You never know when you might need one."

To prove his point, he gestured to me. He had a point, but I didn't want to think about how many other women he may have slept with, or intended to sleep with, on this trip.

Tangerine ripped open the condom packet and tossed it aside. He rolled the condom onto his cock and approached me again. He put a hand between my shoulder blades, pressing my chest against the bed, before lining himself up at my entrance. I didn't realize I had been holding my breath in anticipation until he pushed into me, and the breath let out with every inch deeper he went inside of me.

He was slow at first, like he was allowing me to adjust to him inside of me. It stung a little at first. It had been so long since I had last had sex, but he had more than sufficiently prepared me for him. It didn't take long for his thrusts to start gaining speed, and before I knew it he was absolutely railing me. My soft moans quickly turned into cries of pleasure, mixing with the sound of skip slapping against skin. I had completely forgotten about anyone else who may be in the rooms around us. I truly did not care if anyone knew what was happening, and it was clear that Tangerine didn't care either. It was like he was making it his mission to get the loudest, most lewd noises out of me, before he would give me any rest.

He had both his hands on my shoulders, pressing me into the bed as he pulled me back to meet his thrusts. He was going deeper inside of me than I had ever felt anyone be before. The head of his cock was perfectly abusing my g spot, sending shockwaves through my body every time he thrust inwards. At first I didn't think I would've cum again. It felt more like I was becoming overstimulated. But then I felt the pressure building up inside of me, just as quickly as it had the first time.

One of Tangerine's hands moved to my hair and pulled again, pulling me off the bed so that my back was against his chest.

"Is that another orgasm I feel?" he asked. "Are you gonna cum all over this cock, love?"

I nodded, but he moved his hand from my hair to wrap around my throat. "Use your words."

"Yes!" I cried. "Fuck yes, I'm gonna cum! I'm so fucking close, fuck!"

He chuckled, his hot breath against my ear. It was all too much. I couldn't hold it back anymore. I cried out his name as I came around him, harder and more intense than I had the first time. My vision spotted for a moment and my brain fogged over. I was completely fucked out.

Tangerine wrapped his arms around me, holding me up again as he continued to fuck into me. It didn't take him long to reach his own climax. As he did, he turned my head so he could kiss me again. It was a softer kiss this time, as we both rode out our highs together.

Tangerine slowly lowered me back onto the bed and pulled himself out of me. I whimpered at the loss of contact, hoping he hadn't heard. I listened to him shuffle into the bathroom to discard the condom before coming back out. He gently touched me, and I sheepishly turned my head to look at him.

"C'mon," he said. "We gotta take care of you before you drift off to sleep."

I wanted to tell him he had already taken care of me, but I didn't have the energy. Instead, I let him pull me to a stand and lead me to the bathroom. He made me use the washroom (the most unsexy thing you can do in front of someone you just slept with, by the way) before running a quick shower for us to wash ourselves off. The water was a perfect temperature to cool off my hot skin.

We stepped out and dried off with the hotel provided towels. I expected to put my clothes back on and to go back to my own hotel room. I knew this was nothing more than a one night stand. I didn't expect to stay the night or anything. But, to my surprise, Tangerine took me to his bed and tucked both of us into it. There was no question about it, no mentions of what was to come in the morning. He just pulled me into his arms and turned out the lights, letting the two of us drift off to sleep with just the sound of our hearts beating filling the room.

~~~~~~

I woke up the next morning to the sound of a knock.

It took a moment for me to remember where I was and what had happened. I knew I wasn't in my own room - it was much bigger than the little one bed room I had booked - and I was aware of the fact that I was naked. Once the memories from the night before came rushing back, I smiled to myself.

I was suddenly also aware of the fact that Tangerine was missing. I sat up in bed and looked around the room, but there were no signs of him.

Another knock came at the door, followed by a voice saying, "Room service."

There was a hotel robe laid out on the other bed, next to my folded up clothes. I pulled the robe on and made sure it was secured around me before I went to the door. A young man in a hotel uniform wheeled in a cart with food that smelled so good it made my mouth water.

"Thanks," I said as he left. I closed the door behind him and turned back to the cart.

There was a metal lid over the food, a cup of coffee, and a note. I reached for the note first, curiosity getting the best of me over my desire to eat.

"Good morning, darling," it read. "I had to be off early for work. I extended the checkout time of the room, so you are welcome to stay as long as you need, and I ordered you some breakfast for when you woke up. You may need to pop back to your own room to get your things, though. Thank you for a lovely night. I hope you enjoy your time in Japan. ~ Tangerine"

I sat back down on the bed and looked at the cart in front of me. I read over the letter again, willing for there to be something else written there. Like a phone number. Or a way for me to see him again.

It was just a one night stand. You knew that.

I did. But I couldn't help but feel disappointed. He bought me drinks, fucked me so good I knew I was ruined for other men, and held me as I fell asleep, only to slip out in the morning. At least he bought me breakfast and coffee, but still. I would've liked for him to be there when I woke up.

I read over his note one last time and found myself smiling involuntarily. Even if I was never going to see him again, I also was never going to forget him.

The cute man in the brown tweed jacket, and the thick British accent.

~

toss a coin to your witcher!

ko-fi.com/storiesforallfandoms

[041ahy]

Crimson Obsession ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

★ stalker sunghoon x stalker reader

➤ synopsis ᝰ.ᐟ : Two stalkers, one dark obsession. Sunghoon and Y/N are drawn into a dangerous game of control, passion, and madness—a toxic bond they can’t escape, no matter how hard they try.

��� wc: 12.3k ┆ ⭑ tw !! ➤ stalking, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, violence(physical/emotional), psychological abuse, dark romance themes, toxic relationships, graphic descriptions of intense emotions and control dynamics, sunghoon is a walking red flag, reader is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

ᥫ᭡ hii author nad here !! This was inspired by the song “Paparazzi” by lady gaga and a mv “monster under the bed” by Emily Mei. Tried some dark romance shit and might write more!! Writing is so fun keke thank you for the support on my first story!! <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Park Sunghoon, the heartthrob everyone wants. Y/N, the sweetheart no one suspects. But beneath the charm—

“I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me…”

Obsession bleeds into love. Control twists into desire.

“Promise I’ll be kind, but I won’t stop until that boy is mine.”

Two stalkers. One dangerous love.

They think I want to be loved.
Like I’m chasing some fairytale ending, all hearts and roses.
But love?
Love is just a leash. A pretty lie people beg to wear.
Obsession.
That’s the real power.
It crawls beneath the skin, rots through reason, turns want into need and need into madness. And I don’t need him to love me.
I just need him to belong to me.

Body, mind, soul.

And the best part?
I’m not the only monster in this game.
He’s playing too.
Watching. Waiting. Wanting.

We’re just two predators circling the same kill.

Each other.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The sun is warm, golden, soft. Perfect for iced coffee and pretending the world isn’t a pit of lies and broken people. I walk through campus like usual—my smile is sweet, practiced, perfect. Girls wave. Boys look. Because I’m Y/N. The sunshine girl. Helpful. Harmless. Pretty.

And I’ve almost made myself believe it’s real. Almost.

“Hey, sunshine,” a voice cuts through the air, smooth and sugar-dipped poison. I know that voice. Everyone does.

Park Sunghoon. The campus heartthrob and a walking red flag. He flirts, he teases, he plays—but never commits. And that’s what makes the girls fall harder.

I turn, slow, innocent eyes wide like I didn’t expect it. “Me?”

He’s leaning against the locker, sleeves pushed up, jaw sharp enough to hurt. His smirk is lazy, but his eyes—
His eyes are calculating.

“Who else?” he says, looking me over like I’m already halfway unwrapped. I giggle. Just the right amount. I’ve studied girls like me. I know the formula. “Hi, Sunghoon,” I chirp, shifting my bag on my shoulder. “Need something?”

He steps closer. No space left. No hesitation.
“Just wanted to know if the campus angel ever sins.”

My smile doesn’t slip. Not yet.
“Depends who’s asking.”

He leans in, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek like he owns the air between us. His fingers linger. He’s too close. It’s not cute—it’s testing. And I see it. The need to control. To break something pretty just to see if it bleeds.

“Oh, I’m not asking,” he murmurs. “I’m inviting.”

He thinks he’s being clever. Dangerous.
He thinks I’m flustered.

But the truth?
I’m studying the way his pupils dilate. The flex in his jaw. The heat under his skin that says he likes the idea of hurting people like me. So I tilt my head, still smiling. “Then maybe I’ll surprise you.” He grins. A little too slow. Like he thinks he won. I let him think that.

Because boys like Sunghoon? They only learn when they’re bleeding.

Pretty Lies .☘︎ ݁˖

Sunghoon’s POV

The cafeteria buzzes—tray clatter, everyone too invested in their own conversation. I sit in the middle of it all. Jake’s telling some story too loud, Sunoo’s already halfway through his dessert, and Niki keeps stealing fries from Heeseung’s tray like it’s a game. Jay and Jungwon toss jokes back and forth, flawless and golden. It’s stupid. It’s perfect. It’s the same every damn day. And I’m supposed to love it. But I don’t hear any of them. Because I’m watching her.

Y/N.

Perfect posture. Soft laugh. Eyes too sweet. She’s surrounded by her pastel little friend group, sipping from a pink straw like she’s never had a dark thought in her life. But I know better. There’s something off about her. I lean back in my seat, casual, elbow resting on the table, watching her through half-lidded eyes. I’ve memorized the way she moves. Every tilt of her head. Every flutter of her lashes.

“Bro,” Jake nudges me. “You’re staring again.”

Sunoo whistles. “Crushing hard, huh? Didn’t think you did crushes.”

“I don’t,” I say. I never have. Not until her. But I don’t say that part out loud.

Heeseung laughs. “You thinking of breaking her, too?”

My lips twitch. “Something like that.” They don’t get it.
She’s not like the others. She’s quiet chaos, carefully bottled. She could ruin me. And I want her to.

I look one last time, just a glance—her laughter lighting up her table like springtime. Then I look away. And in that second—
She smirks.

It’s quick. Sharp. Vicious. A secret blooming behind her eyes. No one sees it. No one but her. Then, like a switch flipped, she’s back. Laughing softly. Stirring her drink. Talking with her friends like nothing ever happened. The picture of sweetness. But I can’t shake it. Something’s wrong. And I think I like it.

Y/n’s POV

My door clicks shut behind me. The hallway noise fades. The mask drops, and I smile. A real one this time. I lock the door. Twist the bolt. Hook the chain.

Then I turn.

My room isn’t like the others. No fairy lights. No cute posters. Just him. Every inch of the walls is covered with photos, hundreds of them. Sunghoon laughing with friends. Sunghoon walking to class. Sunghoon asleep in the library— I stood behind the bookshelf for hours to get that one. There are childhood photos, too. Birthday parties. School portraits. One of him in his mother’s arms, drooling and smiling, soft and innocent. How did I get them? Don’t ask stupid questions.
I always find what I want.

Red marker bleeds over every photo. Slashed across his name. Looped around his face. Written over and over in frantic, messy script:

mine.
mine.
mine.

My fingers twitch just looking at it. My nails dig into my palm. He’s everywhere, and still not close enough. They all think I’m sweet. Soft. Harmless. But I’ve watched him flirt with other girls. Seen the way he touches their hair, leans too close, smiles like a sin.

And I wonder how many ribs I’d have to break to make him stop. I stare at a photo of him laughing—his head thrown back, eyes shining. God, he’s beautiful.

“Why do you make me do this?” I whisper, tracing the edge of the image with my fingertip. “If you’d just look at me right, I wouldn’t have to be this way.” But he will. He has to. Because I’ve already decided. Sunghoon belongs to me. He just doesn’t know it yet.

And if anyone else tries to take him—
I’ll smile.
And smile.
And smile.
Until the blood washes the sunshine away.

The dare .☘︎ ݁˖

Sunghoon’s POV

“Wanna bet,” Jake says, grinning like an idiot.
He leans back in his chair, balancing on two legs with that smug look that means trouble.

I raise a brow. “What kinda of bet?”

“Ask her out.” He nods toward the end of the hall where Y/N is sitting on the grass, cross-legged and radiant under the sunlight like some goddess of spring. Sunoo snorts. “Bro, come on. You flirt with everyone but never date anyone. It’s getting weird.”

“I don’t date,” I say casually, watching her from behind my sunglasses. “Too boring.”

“More like too scared,” Niki taunts, tossing a chip into Heeseung’s drink. Heeseung laughs. “Exactly. He’s all bark, no commitment. You talk big, but the minute it gets real?”

Jay smirks. “You bail.”

I lean forward slowly, lips curving. “So what—you want me to prove it?”

Jake grins. “Yeah. Date her. Sunshine girl.”

“Y/N,” Jungwon says, grinning. “Campus sweetheart. The one no one’s touched. Bet she’s the only girl immune to your shit.”

They think it’s a joke. They don’t know I’ve been watching her for weeks. They don’t know I already memorized her schedule. They don’t know I wake up thinking about her laugh and go to sleep picturing her name written in my handwriting. They think this is about a dare. It’s not.

“Fine,” I say, standing. “Watch and learn.”

I brush invisible dust from my jacket and walk over, the mask slipping on effortlessly—smirk, swagger, confidence dripping like poison.

Y/N’s POV

The sun is warm on my skin. My friends are talking about something—fashion? parties? I don’t know. I’m not listening. I’m thinking about the way Sunghoon looked at me in the cafeteria. I’ve replayed it a thousand times. His gaze. His smirk. The way he looked away like he had control.

He doesn’t.

He’s mine.

“Hey.”

I look up and blink like I’m surprised. Sunghoon’s standing there, casual and cocky, with that grin that makes girls stupid. “Hi,” I say, voice light, sweet, perfect. “What’s up?”

“Just thought I’d come say hi. You looked lonely.”

I tilt my head. “I’m literally surrounded by people.”

He shrugs. “Still looked lonely.”

My heart pounds, but I keep the smile on. Because this is new. This is unexpected. He’s never spoken to me like this. Not directly. Not this close. I thought I’d have to chase him forever. But maybe the universe finally understood. Maybe he’s starting to see it, too. That we belong together. That no one else fits like we do.

“Wanna get coffee sometime?” he asks, like it’s no big deal.

I blink. “Like… a date?”

He grins. “If you want it to be.”

I pretend to hesitate. Twirl my hair. Bite my lip. Inside, I’m screaming.

“Sure,” I say finally. “Why not?”

He winks. “Cool. I’ll text you.”

He walks off like it means nothing. But to me?

It means everything. Finally, he’s mine.

And he doesn’t even know it yet.

Y/N’s POV

I stood in front of my mirror for two hours.

Not to be pretty—
I’m always pretty.
But to look the exact kind of pretty he would like.

Soft curls. Subtle gloss. Innocent dress that still clings in the right places. The kind of look that says: I’ve never hurt anything in my life. My friends squealed when I told them he asked me out. “Sunghoon? Really? He never dates anyone!”
I smiled and nodded like I was surprised, like I hadn’t already mapped out our entire future on my bedroom wall. This is my first real moment with him. And I need to be perfect.

Sunghoon’s POV

The coffee shop is warm, dimly lit, and half-empty. The kind of place you take someone you’re trying to impress without looking like you’re trying. Y/N sits across from me, fingers around her cup, smiling like she belongs in a goddamn toothpaste commercial.

And she laughs at everything. Like I’m the funniest guy alive. I flirt. She blushes. I lean in. She twirls her hair. Textbook stuff. Too textbook. For a second, I pause.

She’s sweet. Sweet as sugar. Too sweet. Her answers are always right. Always soft. Always… curated. Like she’s studied me. But I brush the thought off. It’s probably just my ego. Not everyone’s hiding something, right?

Right?

Still… her smile doesn’t crack once. And it’s the kind of smile you have to practice. The night ends with her walking beside me, clutching a warm drink, talking about something soft—childhood pets, or favorite colors, or dreams. I barely register it. I’m watching her.

She looks up at me under her lashes. “This was fun.”

I smirk. “Yeah. I’ll admit… you’re not what I expected.”

She tilts her head. “What were you expecting?” I don’t answer. Because I don’t know. And maybe that’s the problem. I walk her to her dorm. She thanks me like a sweet girl should. And as she turns to go, she gives me a smile. Not just any smile. The kind that doesn’t reach her eyes. The kind that feels like a promise. Too perfect. Too polished. Too… intentional. But I don’t stop her.

“Goodnight, Sunghoon,” she says, voice dipped in honey.

“Night, sunshine,” I reply, and watch her go.

I walk home alone. The streets are quiet. Cool breeze. No one around. But something feels off. A prickling at the back of my neck. The kind of sensation you get when someone’s eyes are on you. I stop once. Look around. Nothing. Just dark windows and swaying trees. I shake it off. Keep walking. Another block. Another glance. Still nothing. My pulse is a little faster now, but I won’t admit that. I’m not the paranoid type. It’s probably nothing. It’s probably just my mind. Probably.

Smile for me .☘︎ ݁˖

Y/N’s POV

I close the door behind me, slow and deliberate, careful not to disturb the stillness. My heart is still racing. Not from nerves. From bliss. Tonight was everything I dreamed of. He laughed. He looked at me like I was worth something. He walked me home like he cared. I twirl once in my room, dress swaying around my knees. If someone saw me now, they’d think I was just another girl with a harmless crush.

But my room is still dark.
Still covered.

Still his.

I flick on the lamp and smile at the walls. The photos greet me like old friends. Every version of him—laughing, serious, tired, messy, beautiful. I slip off my shoes, humming softly, and walk to the corner near my bed. The shrine. That’s what I call it. That’s what it is.

Carefully, I unzip my bag. Inside is the newest treasure. A fresh photo. Crisp. Taken just ten minutes ago. Sunghoon walking alone beneath a streetlight, hands in his pockets, shadow stretching long behind him. His head slightly turned, like he knew something wasn’t right.

Like he felt it.

I smile at the picture. The focus is perfect. The light hits him just right. He looks… vulnerable. I pin it to the wall, right beneath one labeled “sleeping in the library.” This one’s better. This one’s real. And underneath it, in my messy red scrawl, I write one word:

mine.

Then I step back and admire it. Everything is going exactly as planned.

Sunghoon’s POV

I sip my coffee, pretending I’m not thinking about her. But it’s hard to ignore the feeling gnawing at me. Like someone’s been watching me. Following me. The thought sits in the back of my mind, but I push it away.

“Dude, you okay?” Jake asks, leaning across the table, eyes narrowing at me. “You’ve been acting weird since last night.”

I shrug it off. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

He looks unconvinced but drops it, turning back to his drink. The usual group of idiots chat around me, half-listening, half-laughing. I’m not really hearing any of it.

Because I’m feeling it now. This sense that something’s wrong. Something’s off. The café worker glances at me as she refills our drinks. I’ve seen her before, I’m sure of it. But… where? She looks familiar. Not in a “I’ve seen you on campus” kind of way. But in a way that makes my skin crawl a little. I try to ignore it. Probably nothing.

"Sunghoon," Niki says, tapping me on the shoulder. "Did you hear me?"

I blink. "What?"

"Focus, man," he grins. "You were spacing out. We’re talking about the arcade later. You in?"

“Yeah,” I say absently, my mind still swirling. The arcade… That’s where I saw her again. Her. The girl with the dark eyes who looked too familiar. She was standing there, at the entrance. Watching. No. She wasn’t watching me. She was waiting. My heart skips a beat. No one else seems to notice. But I felt it. Her eyes on me. She was there. I’m sure of it. But then I shake it off. It’s just my mind playing tricks. I’ve been stressed lately. Not sleeping well. It’s just paranoia. Right?

The flashing lights are too bright. The clinking sounds of coins, the kids screaming in excitement, the buzz of a pinball machine. But none of it feels right. I can’t focus. The others are busy playing, but I’m still staring at that corner. The same corner where she was standing before. She’s gone now. But I can’t shake the feeling that she’s still here. Somewhere.

“Sunghoon!” Heeseung calls. “What’s going on with you? You’re acting weird. Again.”

“Nothing.” I try to smile, but it feels forced.

They all laugh, none of them noticing the creeping paranoia. The way I’m starting to feel like a victim of something I can’t explain. Like my own life is slipping away, one careful, calculated move at a time. And I’m starting to wonder if I’m being followed. And if I am—who is doing it. I’m walking home alone. The streets are quieter than usual. I keep glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting to see something. Someone. My stomach churns with unease. No one’s around. It’s late. Empty.
And I keep hearing footsteps behind me. I stop. I turn around, nothing.Just the distant hum of a streetlight.

But that feeling is still there. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Someone is watching me. I can feel it. But I don’t see anyone. Not yet.

Red Flags & Broken Ribs .☘︎ ݁˖

Y/N’s POV

The cafeteria hums with the usual noise. The chatter. The clinking trays. I sit with my friends, talking about nothing. The usual. But the whole time, my gaze is fixed on one thing: him.
Sunghoon. The heartthrob of the campus. Laughing with his friends. Smiling like nothing could go wrong. And yet, I feel it. That sense of ownership tightening in my chest. They all tease us. Jake, Sunoo, and the others all wink, nudging him about our date.

“Sunghoon’s got a thing for the sunshine girl, huh?” Jake grins, nudging Sunghoon with his elbow.

I smile softly, pretending to blush, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. I’m sweet. I’m innocent. That’s what they think. But under the surface, it’s all mine. Sunghoon doesn’t know it yet, but he’s already claimed. And I’m the one who will break him. But as I’m talking, I feel something shift. Someone’s walking towards him. A girl. She’s smiling too much. Laughing too loud. And she’s moving right for him. I watch as she walks straight up to his table, too confident, too eager. And in that moment, everything inside me turns cold. My grip tightens on my fork. My knuckles turning white. I hear the slight crack as I grip it just a bit too hard. They don’t notice. No one notices.

But I do.

Mine. The word pulses in my mind. And I smirk, a twisted curve to my lips. “Guess another pair of ribs to break.” she thought.

I can’t help it. I can’t let anyone else have him. Not even for a second. I shift my gaze to Sunghoon. He’s still laughing, still smiling. She’s leaning in, brushing her hair over her shoulder in that way girls do when they want attention. But Sunghoon? He’s giving it to her. The idiot. Flirting. Smiling. Too much eye contact. And he knows what he’s doing. But he doesn’t see what’s coming. He never will.

Sunghoon’s POV

I’m laughing at something Jake just said, rolling my eyes. Then I feel it. The sharp sting of someone’s eyes boring into me. I turn, casually, catching the flash of a girl coming toward my table. She’s cute. I don’t even know her name, but her smile is too bright. Too eager. Perfectly fake. And that’s the way I like it. The chase. The thrill.

“Hey, Sunghoon,” she says, voice all sugar and sweetness. “I was wondering if you’d like to… I don’t know, get dinner sometime?” She bites her lip, leaning in just enough to make it look like it’s innocent. Classic. I can play this game.

“Maybe,” I say, leaning back in my chair, crossing my arms. “I’m not into dinner, but I’m always down for a little fun.”

I see Y/N in my peripheral vision. Her friends are still teasing her, oblivious, just like everyone else. But Y/N? She’s watching me. I catch her for a split second. Her eyes? They’re darker than usual. But it’s gone before I can register it. A flicker.
She’s still smiling, of course. The same sweet, innocent smile that never seems to reach her eyes.

The girl in front of me blushes, laughing softly, a little too loud.
“I’d love that,” she says, her hand brushing my arm. I can’t help but lean closer. “I’m free tonight, if you want. Call me.”

Her eyes sparkle, thrilled. I turn my attention back to Y/N. The one I should be paying attention to. But for some reason, I don’t. I’m too focused on the game, the girl in front of me, and the fun I can have. She’s watching me. And for a moment, I think I see something in her eyes. Something… darker. But I shrug it off. It’s nothing.

Y/N’s POV

The moment passes. The smile doesn’t slip from my face, but everything inside me is roiling. Sunghoon flirts like it’s second nature. He’s playing the game. But I know him better than that. I’m going to break him. Slowly. He won’t even know it’s happening. But as I smile and laugh with my friends, I feel it. The darkness inside me wrapping tighter, pulling me closer to the inevitable.

And I’ll be waiting for the moment he slips.
Because I’m the one who controls this.

Sunghoon’s POV

The afternoon sunlight is soft, casting long shadows over the campus. I don’t really know what I’m doing here. I wasn’t planning on following her, but somehow, I’m standing in front of her, leaning casually against the wall as she walks past.

She freezes. Turns. A little too slowly.

“Hey, Y/N,” I call, flashing that usual playful grin. “Got any plans for tonight?”

She blinks at me, her eyes soft, as if she’s surprised I’m even talking to her. But she’s quick to recover, letting a smile creep onto her lips. "Not really. Why?" Her voice is that perfect, sweet tone I’ve come to expect from her.

“Thought maybe you’d want to watch a movie at my place. Could be fun.” I lean a little closer. “I don’t bite, sunshine,” I add with a wink, because I know how to make it sound playful. And she loves the attention. For a moment, there’s a flicker in her eyes, like she’s debating something. But then it fades, and she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, you want me to come over, huh?” She tilts her head, the sadness in her eyes almost too genuine.

“But I’m sure you’d rather hang out with the girl you were flirting with earlier, right? You were all smiles and sweet talk with her.” She says it so innocently, but her tone is just a touch too pointed. My stomach drops.

She knows exactly how to make me feel guilty. But I play it cool, shrugging like it doesn’t matter. “Come on, Y/N. She’s just part of the game. You should know that by now.” I chuckle, but it sounds a little hollow even to me. “You’re different. You know you’re just fun, but I need someone to keep me entertained for a while. That’s it.”

Her eyes darken for just a split second, but it’s so quick, no one else notices. She looks down at the ground, pouting harder. “Oh, I see. Just a game, huh?”

I can’t lie. There’s a part of me that feels guilty for a moment. But it’s her fault. She’s the one who can’t take the hint. She agreed, so she should know her place.

“I’ll let it go,” she says with a soft sigh, finally meeting my gaze again. “I guess I’ll just let it go.” Her words hang in the air, and I almost don’t catch it—almost. She smiles. It’s a little too wide, a little too fake, and that’s when I realize. She’s not just playing innocent. She’s playing me.

Y/N’s POV

As soon as Sunghoon walks away, I smile to myself. It worked. It always works. He’s just a game to me, after all. But he’s my game. I know exactly what he wants: to feel in control. He thinks I’m a toy. A pretty little thing he can flirt with when he’s bored. But he doesn’t know—he doesn’t have to know—what’s really going on. Tonight, I’m going to make sure he understands. But first…I have a little situation to deal with.

Sunghoon’s POV

Later that night, I’m at home, waiting. I know she’s coming. I can feel it. She’s going to walk in here like she owns the place. Like she always does. And that’s fine. That’s how it goes. She’ll sit next to me, we’ll watch a movie, and things will go back to normal. Maybe.

But I get a text. I’m expecting it to be Y/N. But it’s not. It’s a random number. No name. A picture of the girl from earlier. The one who made me smile a little too much, the one I flirted with. I’m about to ignore it, thinking it’s just someone trying to mess with me.

But then I see the message: You really think you can just move on, huh?

It’s followed by another message: You’re mine. Watch your back Sunghoon, before it’s too late.

I don’t know why, but the text unsettles me. My heart skips a beat. And for a moment, I feel like the world is closing in on me. I hear a knock at the door. I breathe out a slow breath. It’s just Y/N. I’ll deal with whatever this is later.

Y/N’s POV

I know he’ll be waiting for me. He always does. But I have a few things to do first. I stand outside the girl’s dorm. She’s probably inside, spilling to her friends how Sunghoon’s flirted with her. It makes me sick. The idea of her being near him. The idea of her thinking she can just waltz into his life. I knock on her door. She answers quickly, probably too quickly. She’s expecting someone. I know it’s not a surprise. She’s seen me around. She knows exactly who I am. And she knows I’m not here to talk.

“Can I help you?” she asks, smiling too sweetly, but I see the nervousness in her eyes. She knows something’s off. She should.

“I just wanted to talk.” I smile back, slow and calm. “About Sunghoon.” Her eyes flicker with panic. Just for a second. I don’t miss it. Before she can say anything, I step inside. Close the door behind me. And I lock it. I walk slowly toward her, my heels clicking on the floor.

“See,” I say, my voice turning dark, “you don’t understand, do you?” She’s shaking now, backing up into the corner. She’s scared, and that’s exactly what I want. “You think you can just play games with him. Get him to look your way. But you’re wrong.” Her lips tremble, but she doesn’t say anything. “Here’s the thing,” I continue, voice soft as silk. “You’re not worth his time. You never were.” I reach out slowly, taking her chin in my hand, forcing her to look me in the eyes. And I whisper, “You’re nothing but a distraction.” I’m not done yet.

Two Can Play .☘︎ ݁˖

Y/N’s POV

His room smells like cologne and sin. We sit close on the couch, a movie playing on the screen—but neither of us are watching it. It’s just noise. Background. The real tension hums between us, electric and slow burning. He shifts closer, arm brushing mine. His hand finds my thigh, warm and sure. A classic player move. I don’t flinch. Instead, I tilt my head, eyes wide, voice soft. “Sunghoon… we shouldn’t…” He leans in, lips inches from mine, smirking like the devil he is. “You sure, sunshine?”

I bite my lip. Not because I’m nervous. But because I know what he wants. I know how to play.

“Y-Yeah,” I whisper, barely audible. “You said I was just… for fun, right?”

His smile deepens, darkens, but he pulls away—barely.
That’s his game. Push and pull. Hot and cold. He feeds off reactions. Off the control. And I give it to him. Because I know how to give just enough. For the rest of the movie, I keep close. Let my shoulder touch his. Let him think I’m melting. I laugh when he makes comments. I lean in. I flutter my lashes. But deep down, I’m still reeling from what I did.

Earlier That Night

She begged.

That pathetic little girl—the one who dared to touch him—Lay curled on the ground behind the dorms. Gasping. Bleeding. Her ribs snapped like twigs under my knee. One. Two. Three. She screamed. Of course she did. Told me she didn’t mean anything by it. That she didn’t know. That she didn’t realize he was mine. I smiled as I leaned down, grabbing her face.

“You stay the fuck away from him,” I whispered.
“Or next time, it won’t just be your ribs.”

She nodded. Barely conscious. Good girl.

Sunghoon’s POV

She pulls away right before the credits roll.

“I should go,” she says sweetly, fixing her skirt, pretending to check her phone. “Dorm curfew.” I know she’s lying. But I don’t stop her.

“Next time,” I say with a smirk, walking her to the door.

She looks back at me, soft and slow.
“Sure. Next time.”

And then she’s gone. I don’t move right away. Just stare at the door she disappeared through. The silence wraps around me.

And then…

I exhale.
And smile.
That charming, flirty boy they all see?
Gone. I walk to the back of my dorm. To the door no one knows exists. I push it open. The light’s already on.

And inside? A wall—floor to ceiling—covered in her.

Y/N.

Photos. Clippings. Stolen selfies. Screenshots of her stories. Her smile in class. Her walking across campus. Her crying once—god, she was beautiful when she cried. Strings connect everything. A map of her. Her schedule. Her routes. Her friends. Her moods. This is my real room. This is where I watch. I step closer to a fresh polaroid. Her at lunch, laughing. The same moment I’d caught her smirking earlier. There’s something different in her eyes. Something that doesn’t match the act she puts on. I stare at it. At her.

“You’re good,” I whisper, smiling.

“But I’m better.”

The Gossip .☘︎ ݁˖

It was a typical afternoon in the cafeteria, the kind where the buzz of chatter filled the air as students laughed and exchanged stories. Sunghoon sat with his friends, as he often did, the group effortlessly occupying the best corner of the cafeteria. Jake, Heeseung, Sunoo, Jay, Niki, and Jungwon—each of them spoke with the same air of arrogance and charm that Sunghoon wore so effortlessly. They were a tight-knit group, but today, their usual banter was punctuated by something more serious. Jake leaned forward, his voice low, almost as if he was telling a secret. “Did you hear about the girl who got sent to the hospital? Apparently, her ribs were broken. It’s bad, guys—really bad.”

Sunghoon didn’t even need to look up to know they were talking about the incident that had made waves on campus. It had been circulating like wildfire. A girl, once known for being one of the more popular students in their campus, had been found in a hospital bed, bruised and battered. No one knew what happened—just that it was bad. She had been in and out of consciousness, and the rumors only fueled the curiosity. Jay was the first to speak up, his expression a mix of disbelief and fascination. “Who did that to her? They said her whole body was a mess, like someone had really gone at her. No one knows for sure, but it’s like a warning, you know?”

Sunghoon’s eyes flickered up, scanning the table. The others were sharing stories, throwing out possible suspects—some even joked about it, pretending to be detectives—but Sunghoon was eerily quiet. His mind was already elsewhere.

“That girl… the one who’s in the hospital?” Heeseung’s voice trailed off, his eyes narrowing with concern. “Does anyone know who could’ve done something like that?”

The conversation seemed to hang in the air, thick with tension. Sunghoon’s gaze drifted absently to the far side of the cafeteria, his eyes zeroing in on Y/N. She was sitting at a table near the windows, her usual bright demeanor in place, chatting with her friends. But to Sunghoon, it was like he was staring through her. There was an unsettling sense of clarity that hit him like a punch to the gut.

He hadn’t planned on it, but as if drawn by an invisible force, his eyes locked onto hers. For a moment, their gazes collided across the crowded room. Y/N’s lips didn’t twitch, her expression still as sweet as ever—but there was something about the way she didn’t look away, something chilling in her composure. She knew. She knew he was staring at her, and for a brief moment, it felt like the entire room fell away. No one else existed. It was just him and her. Sunghoon’s pulse quickened, and his friends kept talking, but his attention was entirely on Y/N. There was a strange, unspoken energy between them—like she was daring him to do something. To ask. To figure it out.

He didn't even realize he had stood up until Jake’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Hey, you alright, man?”

Sunghoon blinked, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog in his mind. "Yeah," he muttered, his eyes still fixed on her. "I’m fine."

But he wasn’t. His heart thudded in his chest as Y/N slowly turned her gaze away, breaking the stare. She didn’t flinch, didn’t make any sudden movements—just a casual glance down at her phone, like nothing had happened. But Sunghoon felt it. A cold, unsettling presence radiating off her. The way she carried herself, how easily she hid her darkness under that perfect, innocent smile—it unnerved him. Sunghoon’s thoughts raced. The gossip about the girl in the hospital? The broken ribs? He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, it was connected to Y/N. Her sudden distance, her eerie calmness in the face of chaos—it all made sense now. She was hiding something, and Sunghoon was certain he wasn’t the only one who was starting to notice.

"She's not what she seems," Jungwon muttered, noticing Sunghoon’s lingering gaze.

The words hit harder than Sunghoon expected. Not what she seems.

In that moment, it felt like the universe was playing some sick game with him. Y/N had always been the bright, bubbly girl, the campus sunshine, but now... she felt like something far more dangerous. And Sunghoon couldn’t look away. He had to know. He had to understand what had happened to that girl. And why it felt like he was drawn into this twisted, dark web Y/N had spun.

Y/N's POV

On the other side of the cafeteria, Y/N sat with her friends, pretending to listen to their chatter. But her thoughts were elsewhere, her attention split. She had felt Sunghoon’s eyes on her the moment she entered the room. She could feel the weight of his gaze, even before she looked up.

And when their eyes locked? A thrill ran down her spine—something about it felt too familiar. She didn’t turn away immediately, knowing that he was waiting for her to do so. She didn’t give him that satisfaction.

But it wasn’t just that—there was a strange undercurrent in the air, something darker. She knew Sunghoon was playing some game with her. But now? Now it was something else. She wasn’t the only one with secrets anymore. Y/N’s grip tightened around her phone. The girl in the hospital? The one who was bruised and broken? She was herdoing. Y/N had always been careful, keeping the darkness hidden behind her smile, behind the façade of the perfect girl. But that girl? She had pushed Y/N too far, and now, she was paying the price. Y/N knew what it felt like to push someone to the edge—and she knew exactly how to break them. She just never thought Sunghoon would start looking so closely.

The Letter .☘︎ ݁˖

Y/N had barely slept the night before. The strange feeling of being watched still lingered in the back of her mind. She tried to push it away, convincing herself that she was just being paranoid. But when she entered her dorm room that morning, something was off. It wasn’t the usual mess of textbooks and scattered clothes. No, this time there was a distinct stillness in the air. The faint scent of something foreign. A subtle chill that made her spine straighten.

She glanced around, eyes scanning every corner of the room. Nothing out of place. But then her gaze landed on her desk. Her heart skipped a beat. There, resting on top of her journal, was an envelope. It wasn’t hers. It was unmarked, the paper pristine and cold against the wood of her desk. Her breath caught in her throat.

Without touching it, Y/N reached for the closest thing she could find—a pencil, her hands trembling as she carefully slid it beneath the envelope to lift it. She held it in front of her, inspecting it. Nothing, not a single identifying mark. She swallowed hard and pulled the letter from its confines, her fingers itching to read it, yet her mind screaming for her not to.

The words hit her like a slap across the face:

"I know you did it."

The blood drained from her face, and for a moment, the room seemed to close in on her. Her vision blurred as she stared at the simple sentence, each word like a heavy weight pushing down on her chest.

Did what?

Her pulse was deafening in her ears. Who could have—who would have—left this? And how did they know? Y/N’s hands clenched into fists around the letter, her knuckles turning white. She paced the room, a storm of thoughts clouding her mind. Could it be Sunghoon? He had to know. There was no one else who could have figured it out. Could he have known about the girl in the hospital? The one Y/N had... taken care of? That girl had crossed a line, and Y/N had made sure she paid the price. But why would someone write this now? Why would someone confront her like this? Her breath quickened. There was no sign of a return address, no clue as to who might have sent it. But whoever it was, they knew. They knew about the incident. They knew about the violence that lurked beneath her sweet, innocent surface.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. The sudden noise almost made her jump out of her skin. She glanced at the screen. She glanced down at the screen, her heart still racing. The message was from Sunghoon.

"You’ve got something of mine."
Y/N felt her breath catch, but then she read the second part:
"My jacket, silly. You borrowed it from my place that night."

The relief washed over her in a sudden, unexpected rush. It was just a misunderstanding. Just Sunghoon being his usual playful self. He was so casual, so innocent. He didn’t know anything about the letter—or about that incident. It was just a jacket, nothing more.

Y/N chuckled under her breath, her heart slowing down as she took in the message. That’s Sunghoon for you. Always making things seem lighter than they were, as if the weight of everything could be shrugged off with a joke. She let out a sigh, her body relaxing as she typed back quickly.

"Ah, right! I forgot about that. I’ll bring it by later."

She hit send, almost laughing at how much her mind had run wild. Get a grip, Y/N. It was just a jacket. It had nothing to do with the girl in the hospital. It had nothing to do with the letter. It was just Sunghoon being Sunghoon.

But even as the relief settled in, something gnawed at the back of her mind. Why had the letter come now? Who had left it? And how could they have known?

Still, she pushed those thoughts aside. For now, she could pretend everything was fine. For now, she could keep playing the part of the sweet, innocent girl—the girl who wasn’t hiding anything at all.

Sunghoon’s POV

As Y/N sent the message back, a smile tugged at Sunghoon’s lips. He knew exactly what she was thinking. She was probably nervous, imagining all sorts of things. He liked that—liked the control he had over her, the way she would sometimes get tangled in her own thoughts. But something about the way she responded felt... too calm. Almost too perfect. Sunghoon put his phone down, a thought lingering in his mind. He hadn't meant to make her paranoid. But maybe that was the point. Maybe it was time to test how far he could push her—see just how much of her darkness was hiding behind that perfect smile.

Y/N had decided to do the right thing—return the jacket to Sunghoon. He was playful, charming, and she liked to believe that his messages had been nothing more than him being his usual, teasing self. She told herself there was no harm in stopping by his dorm for a quick drop-off. It would clear the air, and maybe she could get a bit more of a sense of where she stood with him.

Sunghoon’s dorm was what you'd expect—clean, tidy, but with that signature feeling of someone who didn’t really care about the space. It was a little more lived in than most dorms, with papers strewn across his desk and his bed half-made. As Y/N stood there, she couldn’t help but think about how different his space was compared to hers. His confidence seemed to ooze from every corner, every misplaced book, every random hoodie lying around.

She glanced at the jacket in her hands, letting out a breath. This was a simple, innocent thing. Just returning the jacket. No big deal. Yet, as she made her way toward the door to his room, she noticed something strange at the end of the hallway. A door. It wasn't like the others in the dorm, the usual white, sterile doors. This one was older, with chipped paint, almost like it had been tucked away and forgotten.

Y/N's curiosity piqued. She’d been to Sunghoon's dorm a once, but she’d never seen this door before. It was slightly ajar, like it was inviting her in. She could feel the tug of something dark, something she couldn’t name, but it pulled her closer.

Her feet moved without thinking, and before she realized what she was doing, she was standing in front of it. The door felt wrong. It was too quiet, too hidden, like it was a secret Sunghoon had kept from everyone—like it was a place no one was supposed to know about. Y/N reached for the door handle, her hand hovering just above it, her heart beating loudly in her chest. But before she could touch it, a voice came from behind her, smooth and teasing, but with a tinge of something darker.

“Looking for something, sunshine?”

Y/N froze, her pulse jumping in her throat. She turned, her eyes meeting Sunghoon’s, who was leaning casually against the doorframe, his signature smirk playing on his lips. There was a strange gleam in his eyes—like he already knew what she was doing. She swallowed hard, trying to mask her surprise. “Ah, just coming to return your jacket,” she said, her voice too light, too carefree. She quickly tried to smile, but it felt forced, her thoughts still caught on the strange door.

Sunghoon took a step closer, his eyes flickering from her face to the door behind her. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

Y/N nervously laughed, trying to play it off. She didn’t want to seem too suspicious, but the air between them had changed. The playful, teasing Sunghoon she was used to now felt a little more... calculated. A little more dangerous. Her eyes kept darting toward the door, despite her best efforts to focus on him. Sunghoon noticed, his smirk deepening as he stepped forward, blocking her view of the door entirely.

“Don’t go poking around in places you shouldn’t,” he said, his tone suddenly lighter, but with a sharp edge to it. “You’ve returned the jacket, and that’s all you came for, right?”

Y/N tried to laugh again, but the unease was bubbling up inside her. Sunghoon was standing just a little too close now, the warmth of his presence almost overwhelming.

“Yeah, of course,” she said quickly, feeling her heart race. “I was just about to leave it here. No need for me to—”

But before she could finish, her eyes caught a glimpse of the door once more, just a sliver of what was hidden behind it. It was enough to stop her in her tracks.

The walls behind the door were plastered with photographs. Hundreds of them. The room was dark, she tried to see what was inside but failed it was too dark. Sunghoon, noticing her distraction, moved quickly to block her view, his eyes locking onto hers. “Don’t make me say it again, Y/N.” His voice was still smooth, but there was an undertone of something darker, more commanding. “There’s nothing you need to see in there.”

His body pressed just a little closer to hers, and for the first time, Y/N felt a coldness radiating off him. He was holding something back—something important—and she was too close. Too close to seeing too much.

"Let’s not make things complicated, okay?" he said, the smile still plastered on his face, but now it felt forced, almost too perfect. He wasn’t the playful Sunghoon she knew anymore. Her heart raced, and she could feel the walls closing in around her. She had almost seen it all. As Sunghoon took a small step back, still blocking the door, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. Something she couldn’t name, but something that was about to break wide open.

Sunghoon’s POV

After Y/N left, Sunghoon remained standing in the hallway, staring at the spot where she’d stood moments ago. His lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk as he watched her walk away, the door clicking shut behind her. The moment she was gone, the facade faded. The playful, charming Sunghoon disappeared, leaving only the shadow of the man who had been waiting for this. Slowly, he turned and walked back toward the door, the weight of what he’d hidden behind it pressing down on him like an unspoken promise.

He slipped into the dimly lit room, the smell of stale air and the metallic scent of something unsettling lingering in the atmosphere. As he closed the door behind him, he moved to the wall, where the photographs of Y/N were plastered.

His eyes scanned them slowly, lovingly, as though they were pieces of a puzzle he had been piecing together for months—no, years. His fingers brushed the edges of the pictures gently, almost reverently, caressing the faces, the moments of her life he had captured without her knowing. A soft, almost possessive sigh escaped his lips as he traced the red words that covered every inch of her face, each picture speaking to him in a language only he understood.

Mine.

He whispered it to himself, his voice low, hypnotic, as his thumb ran over the sharp, red letters. He could almost feel her in these images—her innocence, her light, her brightness that he had to dim, that he had to make his. He leaned in closer, inhaling the scent of the photos as if they were a drug, his mind whirling with thoughts too dark to express. A laugh escaped his lips, quiet and cold, as he let his fingers press harder against the paper, crushing it against the wall.

"Mine, sunshine," he whispered, his voice thick with hunger, with obsession. "Mine to keep... mine to ruin."

His eyes darkened as the smirk deepened, a shadow crossing his face. She thought she could walk away, that she could stay in control. But she was already his, and soon, she’d understand that. She’d understand that every move she made, every step she took, led her closer to him.

The room around him felt like it was closing in, the walls pressing in with the weight of his obsession. Every inch of this space was a part of him now, a part of the game he was playing—one she didn't even know she was part of yet. And the game was just beginning.

Y/N’s POV

Back in her dorm, the quiet of the room was deafening. Y/N stood motionless, her body frozen in place, her gaze fixed on the wall in front of her. Her breathing was shallow, her heart hammering in her chest.

It had been a long day, but something in the air felt different now. She had barely even realized when she’d walked into her room—her mind too clouded by the interaction with Sunghoon and the strange weight of the photo she had seen earlier in his dorm. It was oddly familiar, as if it was her in those pictures.

But as her eyes roamed the room, the dread settled over her like a suffocating fog. The wall in front of her was filled with photographs of Sunghoon. Every single photo was of him—at school, at practice, in the courtyard, caught off guard, eyes locked with the camera, sometimes smiling, sometimes lost in thought, sometimes unaware. The photos were all pinned to the wall, covering it in a disturbing collage. The red words scrawled across each one: Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

The letters were bold, harsh, smeared across his face like a claim—an undeniable declaration of possession. Her mind spun as she took a few steps closer, the weight of the images pressing down on her chest like a suffocating force. Her breathing quickened, and her eyes darted across the room, scanning the wall, her fingers lightly brushing against the edges of a photo of Sunghoon standing in front of a classroom window, the sunlight casting shadows across his face. He looked... perfect. Too perfect. Too close.

And then there were more: the ones from the campus café, the ones from outside her dorm. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she took a step back, her mind racing. She had felt it before—her own growing obsession with him, her own quiet stalking. But this? This was different. This wasn’t just obsession. This was something else. Her fingers tightened around the photo, crumpling the edges as she stared at it. The connection she had with him—was it mutual? Had it always been like this? The thoughts were too much. The room felt like it was closing in on her, just as it had for Sunghoon, just as it had for both of them. The walls, the photos, the words—they all felt like a cage.

She wasn’t just obsessed with him. She wasn’t just playing at this game. She had crossed the line.

And now, there was no turning back. But she knew, deep down, that this was no longer just about Sunghoon. It was about the darkness that had taken root in both of them—the darkness they were both feeding into. And somewhere, buried in her mind, she realized it wasn’t just his obsession anymore.

It was hers too.

Twist of Fate .☘︎ ݁˖

The night had started out ordinary enough, with Sunghoon out with his friends at the campus bar, laughing and enjoying the usual banter. The usual crowd surrounded him: Jake, Heeseung, Sunoo, Jay, Niki, and Jungwon—carefree, loud, and easygoing.

But there was something about tonight, something that gnawed at him just beneath the surface.

As he leaned back in his seat, nursing his drink, his gaze flickered to the waitress behind the bar. She was walking toward their table, and for a split second, everything in the room seemed to slow. Her face. That face. He couldn’t place it, but it was too familiar. The curve of her jaw, the way she moved—it felt like he'd seen her before. No, it wasn’t just familiarity. She looked too familiar. Almost like a ghost, like a phantom he couldn't quite shake.

He shook his head, pushing the thought away. Maybe it was the alcohol—or maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him. He was tired, a little too caught up in his thoughts lately, and maybe his brain was conjuring things that weren’t really there. He took another swig of his drink. But that feeling stayed. Minutes later, after a few more drinks, something wasn’t right. The room around him felt like it was tilting, shifting unnaturally. He felt dizzy, like the air had thickened, and his vision started to blur.

He excused himself from the table, murmuring something about heading back to his dorm. His friends barely noticed. They were too busy with their own chatter, as always. His steps faltered as he made his way outside. The cold air hit him like a slap in the face, but it did nothing to clear the fog in his mind. The world around him seemed off balance, colors smearing together in a kaleidoscope of disorientation. He needed to get back to his dorm. He needed to sleep this off.

A yellow cab rolled up beside him, its headlights cutting through the foggy night. He didn’t think twice before opening the door, slumping into the back seat. He wasn’t in the mood for the usual awkward small talk with the driver, and honestly, he didn’t even care who it was at this point. All he wanted was to be home.

As the cab drove off, his vision faded further, his mind clouded. His head felt heavy, like he couldn’t quite hold it up anymore. He blinked slowly, trying to focus on the world outside the window, but it was all just a blur.

But then something caught his eye—the driver’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

A flicker of recognition.

The figure behind the wheel... it was too familiar.

He squinted, his heart picking up a beat. The dark hair. The posture. The eyes that seemed to gleam with something he couldn’t place. His mouth went dry. No. It couldn’t be. The car swerved slightly, and Sunghoon's vision finally gave way to blackness. The last thing he saw, before everything went dark, was the faintest of smirks pulling at the corners of the driver’s lips.

It was her. Y/N.

Y/N’s POV

The cab slowed to a stop in front of a dimly lit building. Y/N looked into the rearview mirror, her eyes glinting with satisfaction as she observed the still figure in the backseat. Sunghoon was unconscious now, his body slumped against the seat, barely responsive.

She took a deep breath, the smirk on her face widening as the weight of her plan settled over her. Everything had gone exactly how she wanted it to.

Sunghoon was hers now.

The thought echoed in her mind as she finally put the car in park, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence. The night had gone just as she’d envisioned. She had watched him carefully, tracked him from the bar to the moment he had stepped into the cab. Everything had aligned perfectly. She leaned forward, her fingers brushing against the edge of the rearview mirror, her reflection staring back at her with a look of quiet satisfaction.

Sunghoon, with all his arrogance and charm, had no idea what was coming. He had no idea who he was really dealing with. She had played the part well—the sweet, innocent sunshine, the girl everyone adored, the one everyone thought was incapable of anything dark. But that was the perfect disguise.

Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as her thoughts turned darker.

It wasn’t just about him anymore. It wasn’t just about the obsession, the games, the cat-and-mouse. She had crossed a line, and now, there was no going back.

Her voice, soft but filled with malice, broke the silence as she spoke to the unconscious Sunghoon, almost as if she were savoring the moment.

"Welcome to the game, Sunghoon," she whispered, the words heavy with promise. "Now, you’re mine."

The smirk on her lips deepened as she opened the door, stepping out of the car. This wasn’t just an obsession anymore—it was her control, her possession over him, just as he had once claimed to have over her.

Now, he would learn what it meant to be truly controlled.

The Unfamiliar Room .☘︎ ݁˖

Sunghoon’s eyes fluttered open, the bright, sterile light above him blurring as his head throbbed with pain. His vision was still hazy, his limbs heavy, as if the world was pressing down on him from all sides. He tried to lift his hand to his face but found his body uncooperative, a sense of disorientation washing over him. Where was he?

He blinked several times, struggling to focus. The room was cold, unsettlingly sterile—nothing like the warmth of his own dorm. The walls were lined with photographs, his photographs, each one capturing him in moments when he hadn’t even realized he was being watched. His breath hitched in his throat.

The images were haunting. There he was in the library, mid-laugh in the cafeteria, walking across campus at night, unaware of the camera following him. Some of them were blurry, hastily taken, but others were impossibly clear. They showed every detail—every flicker of his expression, every motion of his body. He couldn’t breathe. His body trembled as his eyes scanned the walls, the ceiling, the floor—his pictures were everywhere.

This wasn’t just a room. This was a trap.

A laugh echoed through the room, soft at first, but growing louder. It was familiar. A dark, twisted laugh that made his skin crawl. He turned, and there she was. Y/N. But not the Y/N he knew. Not the sunshine girl, the sweet, innocent campus darling. Her smile was gone, replaced with something darker—something twisted. The sweetness that had once defined her was now replaced by something far more sinister. Her eyes gleamed with an unsettling light, and the laugh that left her lips was nothing like the cheerful sound he had heard on campus. It was cold, empty, filled with a sickening malice. The laughter stopped abruptly. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing at him as she took a step closer. The room felt suffocating, the air thick with something he couldn’t quite name.

“You’ve been a good little pawn in my game, Sunghoon,” Y/N said, her voice dripping with something darker. “You thought you were in control, didn’t you? You thought you were the one calling the shots, the one pulling the strings.” She laughed again, but this time it was bitter. “But you’re not. You never were. I’m the one who’s been playing you.”

Sunghoon’s heart raced as he tried to make sense of everything, but his mind felt like it was being twisted in knots. He tried to sit up, his body feeling heavier than ever, but he couldn’t escape the suffocating grip of the room. The photos of him, the images of his every move, mocked him, suffocated him.

He looked at her, his mouth dry, his eyes wide with shock. “W-What… What is this?” His voice was shaky, raw, the panic rising in his chest. “Y/N...”

But the person before him was no longer the girl he’d known. Her smile was gone, replaced by something far colder, more dangerous.

"You've been so predictable," she purred, stepping closer, her presence overpowering. "You thought you were the hunter, stalking me, controlling the game. But you were just a pawn, just like everyone else. I was always the one pulling the strings."

Sunghoon’s chest tightened as he tried to process her words. His mind screamed in protest, but the fog in his head made everything feel unreal, like he was sinking into something he couldn't escape from.

His throat tightened as his emotions boiled over. The weight of it all hit him at once—the manipulation, the stalking, the twisted game they were playing.

And then, a sob ripped from his chest. A gut-wrenching, broken sound that shook his entire body. Tears stung his eyes as he let his head fall into his hands. He couldn’t understand it—none of it made sense.

But as the sobs wracked his body, something inside him snapped.

Y/N’s cold hand gently cupped his face, her fingers trailing down his cheek with a tenderness that only made the moment more unsettling. Her thumb brushed against his skin, and for a brief second, it almost felt... comforting.

But Sunghoon’s sobs suddenly stopped. He raised his head, his eyes now gleaming with something far more unsettling—something that sent a chill down Y/N’s spine.

A low chuckle escaped his lips. He laughed. A deep, twisted laugh that sent shivers through the room, a laugh that was far too dark to be comforting. His eyes glinted with a manic light, and his lips curled into a twisted grin.

Y/N froze, her expression faltering for the first time. “What—what is this?” she whispered, confused by the sudden change in him.

Sunghoon’s laugh grew louder, more manic. “You think you’re the only one who’s been playing this game, Y/N?” His voice dropped to a whisper, filled with darkness and malice. “You think you’re the only one who’s been stalking, who’s been controlling? You’re wrong.”

Y/N’s blood ran cold as Sunghoon’s grin deepened. The truth hit her like a punch to the gut.

“I’ve been watching you, Y/N. Every step you’ve taken, every move you’ve made,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto hers with a predatory gleam. “I knew you’d slip up eventually. I knew you’d show me exactly who you are.”

Y/N took a step back, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn’t comprehend it. No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Sunghoon smirked, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ve been in control this whole time. I’ve been the one pulling the strings.” He leaned in closer, his voice low and dark. “I knew what you were doing. I knew what you were after. And I let you. I let you think you were winning. But now, you see… you see who’s really been playing the game.”

Y/N’s chest tightened as his words echoed in her mind. She stepped back, suddenly realizing the truth of his words. Sunghoon wasn’t just a victim in this twisted game—he was just as dark, just as sick as she was.

His laugh filled the room again, and for a moment, everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

“You’re mine now, sunshine,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice full of promise and something much darker. “Mine to break. Mine to ruin. Just like you’ve done to me.”

Sunghoon’s POV

The night air was thick, and the city lights blurred together as I sat there with my friends. The loud chatter and laughter around me felt distant, as though I were floating just outside of it. My mind was far away, lost in thoughts of her—the one I couldn't stop watching, no matter how hard I tried to focus on something else. The waitress came to refill my drink, and something caught my eye. Her. Y/N.

But this wasn’t just a passing glance. No. I could feel her presence even before I saw her. There was something in the way she moved, the subtle way she lingered around the edges of the room, as though she was waiting for something, or someone.

She was watching me. I knew it.

I casually glanced up, pretending to be engaged in the conversation with Jake. But I saw it then—the familiar flicker in her eyes as she quickly looked away. It was like a jolt through my body. She thought I didn’t know. She thought I didn’t see her. But I always saw her. I had been watching her for so long that it almost felt like second nature.

I let the conversation drag on for a few more moments before I made my move. I pretended to down the drink the waitress had given me, the bitter liquid burning as it slid down my throat. My head grew heavy almost immediately, the familiar sensation creeping up from the pit of my stomach.

It worked. I could feel it starting to cloud my thoughts, the edges of my vision going blurry, and I allowed myself to lose control, letting the world spin around me in a haze. I felt myself slump slightly, letting my body go limp as I ‘stumbled’ to my feet, giving the perfect excuse to leave.

"Guys, I’m not feeling too well," I muttered, forcing a weak smile as I excused myself. The moment I left the bar, I could already feel her eyes on me again. I smiled inwardly, knowing what she would do next.

I didn’t even need to look back to know she would follow me. She did. I waited outside for only a moment before the sound of a car approaching met my ears. A yellow cab rolled up, and without hesitation, I slid into the backseat. She was driving. Y/N. She had taken the bait. As soon as the door closed behind me, I let out a breath I’d been holding. My vision was still blurry, my head spinning, but I controlled my breathing. She was watching me through the rearview mirror, trying to gauge whether I was truly affected by the drink, but I saw it in her eyes—she thought I didn’t know.

The car started moving, and I faked it. I faked the disorientation, letting my body sway gently, my hands going limp at my sides as if I were losing consciousness. I felt her eyes on me the entire time. She thought I was weak, vulnerable—just like every other prey she’d stalked. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t weak.

Her gaze flickered to me, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She was playing her role perfectly. She thought she had outsmarted me. But she hadn’t.

As I “slipped into unconsciousness,” I made sure to keep my senses sharp. My ears tuned in to the sound of her breathing, the soft hum of the engine, and the way her hands gripped the wheel just a little too tightly. I waited for the moment when I would catch her off guard. It came when she made a sharp turn, the sudden motion throwing me forward slightly. In that split second, I opened my eyes—just a fraction—and saw her. She was watching me, her eyes scanning me carefully, trying to confirm if I was really out.

But I was already watching her back.

Her face froze for a moment as she saw the glint of my eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror. It was a brief moment, barely a blink, but it was enough. Her breath caught in her throat. The facade she had so carefully crafted cracked just a little.

I didn’t let her see the grin spreading across my face.

She quickly looked away, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel, trying to regain control of the situation. I let the silence stretch between us, the tension thick and suffocating.

The night passed in a haze as we drove further and further from the city, and I could feel her trying to maintain the upper hand. But she was getting careless. I could see the cracks in her calm demeanor. She was trying too hard to hide it now.

And that’s when it hit me—she never knew I knew.

The irony was too delicious.

Y/N had been stalking me, watching me from the shadows, just as I had done to her. She thought she was the one in control, pulling the strings from the sidelines. But the entire time, I had been watching her—watching her as closely as she thought she was watching me. I knew exactly what she was doing. I knew everything. It was almost laughable.

I slowly allowed my body to go limp again, letting my head roll back as if I were completely unconscious. She would take the bait, pull into some secluded spot, and then—then I would see what she would do next.

I couldn't wait.

The game was mine. Always had been.

Y/N’s POV

Y/N glanced into the rearview mirror, watching Sunghoon carefully as the road stretched ahead. She thought she had him. He was out of it, drugged, completely unaware. She was finally going to take him, trap him in a way that made him hers—he would never know she was the one pulling the strings.

But as she caught his eyes through the mirror for a split second, her heart skipped a beat. Had he... had he seen her?

No. It couldn't be.

He was out cold, right?

But the flicker in his eyes—the brief, knowing look—made her breath hitch in her throat. She couldn’t believe it. Could he have known all along?

No. It’s impossible. She forced herself to focus on the road, trying to ignore the sudden wave of anxiety threatening to overtake her. No. She had everything under control. She just needed to finish the game.

He didn’t know. He couldn’t.

Or could he?

The Truth is Revealed .☘︎ ݁˖

The silence between them was suffocating, as thick as the tension hanging in the air. Both of them, locked in a quiet battle of wills, stared across the room at one another. The realization was dawning, the truth settling in like a weight on their chests. There was no hiding it anymore. Y/N looked at him, her gaze intense, unwavering. There was no pretending now. No more games. She had thought she was the one pulling the strings, but she could see the darkness in his eyes now—the same darkness she had been hiding all along.

Sunghoon didn’t break eye contact, a twisted smile curling at the corners of his lips. His eyes were like a storm, swirling with hunger, possessiveness, and something darker. Something real.

“We both know it now,” he said, his voice low, like a whisper meant only for her. “No more pretending, Y/N. No more games.”

Y/N felt a strange, sick satisfaction stir inside her. She knew it too. She had always known it deep down. She wasn’t the only one obsessed. They were both consumed by it. By each other. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. The truth—raw and ugly—was choking her. She wanted to deny it, to say that she could walk away, but deep down, she knew there was no escape. There would never be a way out. They were bound together by something darker than love, something more twisted, more dangerous.

The truth lingered like smoke in the air between them.

And then, in a flash, it all clicked.

He wasn’t the one who had been trapped. She had been the one stuck in his web. But she didn’t care anymore. She didn’t want to be saved. There was something intoxicating about the way he watched her, the way he claimed every inch of her without even touching her. It thrilled her, terrified her, and ruined her.

Sunghoon stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if every step was calculated. He was in control, even now. Even after everything. He walked toward her, and she didn’t move. She couldn’t.

“You wanted me, didn’t you?” His voice was low, seductive, but it held a dangerous edge. “You watched me. You followed me. You made me yours before you even knew it. But I was always watching you, Y/N. Always.”

His breath was warm against her ear now as he leaned in closer, his fingers brushing against her jawline. “And now we’re both trapped, aren’t we? Trapped in this... beautiful mess.”

Her heart raced, a sickening thrill running through her veins. She was trapped. And she didn’t want to leave. She wanted him. She needed him. But there was no way back now. No way out. Their world had become so tangled, so tangled in obsession, in control, in power, that there was no separating them. There was no walking away. There was only the madness they had created together. And as they stared at each other, the silence thickened.

Suddenly, a soft hum of music filled the space between them. The song Paparazzi by Lady Gaga blared from her phone, the eerie beat syncing perfectly with the pounding in her chest.

"I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me," the lyrics seemed to taunt her. The words were almost like a prophecy—their prophecy. They had both been obsessed, had both stalked and wanted something from the other. They had both become each other’s paparazzi.

“You’re my star now, Y/N,” Sunghoon murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “I’ll never let you go. Never.”

Y/N smirked, the edges of her sanity slipping away. Her fingers traced the edge of his jaw, soft and light. But what if I don’t want to be let go? Her lips parted slightly, the words barely a whisper, but they were all that needed to be said: “I’m yours, Sunghoon. Always have been.” The music swelled louder, the haunting melody matching the chaos in their hearts.

“I’ll be your paparazzi," she said, her voice a dark promise, the thrill of it all consuming her. "I’ll follow you until you love me."

And just like that, the world outside them disappeared. There was nothing but each other—two souls, twisted and bound together by obsession. No boundaries. No lines. Just madness, lust, and need. There was no escape from this. They were both trapped. In each other. In their darkness. And they were both happy about it.

And so, their Crimson Obsession continued—bloodied, tangled, and unbreakable—until all that remained was the dark, twisted love that neither could escape, nor wanted to.

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

10 | I know that's

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.

❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.

Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.

Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy. 

But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?

“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”

Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”

He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”

Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.

You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”

“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”

“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”

You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.

Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything. 

You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on. 

Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.

And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.

Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…

No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.

You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.

You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.

It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…

“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you. 

A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.

His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”

Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.

Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.

No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.

Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.

You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.

“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone. 

Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.

His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—

You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”

Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.

His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.

“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”

Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”

That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.

Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.

After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).

Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.

Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.

The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume. 

“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.” 

When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.

You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.” 

Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”

You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”

His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“

“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.

Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”

There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.

He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”

Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.

Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.

There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.

It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there. 

Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.

And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.

It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.

His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.

His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—

“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”

You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.

Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.

You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”

He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”

You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath. 

“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”

Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him. 

Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.

It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.

The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to. 

There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.

You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.

“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.

Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“

“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.

Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.

Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”

Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”

It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.

You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.

By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.

“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.

“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.

“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.

He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”

There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.

“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”

Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”

Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.

With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.

It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment. 

After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again. 

You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.

You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.

“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.

Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.

She rolls her eyes, “I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”

Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”

“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.

Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.

“Aww, thanks. I think I—“

“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.

Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.

“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.

Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”

Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”

You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”

“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“

“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?

Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.

Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…

His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”

Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.

To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.

Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.

You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.

Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.

The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.

Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”

He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”

It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people. 

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.

In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be. 

Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.

His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.

Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.

Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.

The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.

And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music). 

How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.

Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.

As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.

It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.

But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—

“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.

Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”

He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca. 

The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.

Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”

“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”

His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”

“You scared me!” You huff out to him.

Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”

Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.

Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”

Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“

“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”

“What—“

He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”

You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing. 

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Kon-el | Connor Kent X readerbatsis!

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° Batblood ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ °

uhhh self indulgent bat family stuff

masterlist

This is mostly Batfamily X Batsis. Though I think I had enough Conner Kent X Reader to classify this as a thing.

GUYS I WROTE DAMIENS NAME WRONG THROUGHOUT THIS WAIT

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° ✩ The first thing you learn about your parents is that they are fundamentally incompatible. The second thing you learn is that they will never stop trying anyway.

You don’t remember a time when Bruce and Selina were ever something as simple as together. They exist in contradictions she flirts, he broods; she steals, he stops her; she leaves, he waits. You used to think they would eventually find a middle ground, but you’ve long since given up on that idea.

Bruce and Selina have always been on and off, a constant push and pull. He loves her, but he can’t accept her choices. She loves him, but she refuses to change for him. You grew up watching them dance around their feelings. One moment, she’s draped over his desk in the Batcave, teasing him, and the next, she’s gone without a trace, leaving only a cryptic note behind.

Still, they make sense, in a way that defies logic. And despite all their back and forth, they both love you just in completely different ways. The truth is, Bruce and Selina will never be able to give you the same kind of love.

⸻

“Again.”

You grit your teeth, clenching your fists as Bruce circles you in the Batcave’s training area. You’ve already gone through this drill a dozen times. Your muscles ache, your ribs are sore from earlier blows, but he’s relentless.

You feint left, then pivot sharply, throwing a kick at his side. He blocks it easily. Too easily. His expression remains unreadable, but you can feel his disapproval.

“Sloppy,” he says, stepping back. “You’re letting yourself get tired.”

“That’s because I am tired,” you snap. “We’ve been doing this for over an hour.”

He crosses his arms. “On the field, you don’t get to decide when you’re done.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, but Tim does? Jason does? Even Damian doesn’t get this much micromanaging.”

Bruce’s jaw tightens. “This isn’t about them. It’s about you.”

“No, it’s about me being your daughter.”

His silence confirms it.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “You trained all of them, let them fight their own battles. You trusted them to figure it out. But me? You’re scared to let me.”

Bruce’s expression darkens. “I’m not scared.”

“Then what is it?” you challenge, stepping closer. “You push me harder than you ever pushed them, but you still won’t let me prove myself. What’s the point of all this if you’re just going to hold me back?”

His voice is quiet when he finally answers. “Because I can’t lose you.”

The weight of those words presses against your chest. You want to be angry, to keep fighting him on this, but the raw emotion in his voice makes it impossible.

You don’t know what to say, so you settle for the only truth you have.

“You won’t,” you murmur. “But you have to let me go.”

Bruce doesn’t answer. He just exhales slowly, tension still radiating from his stance. You don’t expect him to change overnight, but at the very least, he doesn’t call for another round. That’s something.

⸻

Selina finds you hours later, sprawled out on the balcony of her penthouse. You weren’t planning on coming here tonight, but after your fight with Bruce, you needed air. And if there’s one thing Selina understands, it’s the need to escape.

She slides the glass door open, stepping onto the rooftop with effortless grace. “I thought I’d find you here.”

You don’t turn to face her. “Bruce is being impossible.”

She chuckles, settling beside you. “He’s still your dad don’t call him bruce, though when isn’t he?”

You sigh, tilting your head back against the cool metal railing. “I just… I don’t know how to make him see me as more than just his kid. He acts like I’ll break if I take one wrong step.”

Selina hums thoughtfully. “That’s what he does. He builds walls around the things he loves, convinces himself it’s the only way to keep them safe.”

You glance at her. “And you?”

She smirks. “Oh, I’d never keep a bird in a cage. I’d teach her to fly.”

There’s something appealing about that. With Selina, there are no rules, no suffocating restrictions. Just a quiet, unwavering confidence in your abilities. Even if you don’t approve of the way she lives, you can’t deny that she makes you feel free.

She pulls a small velvet pouch from her pocket and tosses it into your lap.

You raise a brow. “Do I want to know?”

She grins. “Just a little something I picked up.”

You groan, shoving it back at her. “I told you to stop giving me stolen jewelry.”

Selina only laughs. “It’s not stolen technically. I swapped it for something better.”

“That’s still stealing.”

“Details, darling.”

You can’t help but laugh. She winks, ruffling your hair before standing. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat before you let your father’s brooding ruin your whole night.”

You shake your head but follow her anyway.

For all their differences, Bruce and Selina have one thing in common: they both love you, fiercely.

Your dad will always try to protect you from the world. Your mom will always remind you that it’s yours to take. You exist in the space between them.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° ✩

Patrol had been standard until it wasn’t. You and Tim had been watching an arms deal go down from the rooftops of Gotham’s East End. The intel from Oracle suggested this was a simple exchange one that didn’t require much interference. The plan was to observe, gather intel, and report back if things escalated. But you weren’t convinced.

Something felt off. You crouched beside Tim, scanning the warehouse below. The deal was happening inside, but your eyes were locked on a figure slipping through a side entrance, unnoticed by the others.

“Tim, we’ve got movement,” you whispered.

He barely glanced at the figure before shaking his head. “Not our priority. We wait and”

“I’m going after them,” you interrupted, already moving.

Tim grabbed your arm. “That’s not the plan.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you insisted, shaking him off. “Cover me.”

And before he could protest, you were already gone.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The side entrance led you through a narrow corridor, crates stacked high along the walls. You moved quietly, using the shadows to your advantage.

The man you were following a mercenary by the look of his armor spoke softly into an earpiece. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the urgency in his tone sent a chill down your spine.

You pressed closer, peering around a crate. Then you saw it.

This wasn’t just an arms deal. There were bombs. Crates of them. Military grade explosives, lined up and ready to be moved.

Your stomach dropped.

“Oracle,” you whispered, touching your comm. “We have a problem.”

“I see it,” her voice came through your earpiece. “I’m running facial recognition on the men inside. This isn’t just some street gang these guys are mercenaries.”

“Figures.”

Tim’s voice suddenly crackled through. “You were supposed to wait.”

“I’d say ‘I told you so,’ but I’m a little busy.”

A movement caught your eye. The mercenary was reaching for a detonator.

Shit.

You sprang from cover, knocking him back with a swift kick to the ribs. The detonator clattered across the floor.

“Got company,” you muttered.

“On my way,” Tim responded.

But it was already too late.

The other mercenaries had heard the commotion, and within seconds, you were surrounded.

⸻

Fighting in the Fire

You moved on instinct, blocking the first blow aimed at your head and countering with a knee to the gut. The second merc swung at you with a baton, but you ducked, sweeping his legs out from under him.

The fight was brutal there were too many of them, and you were alone.

A blade sliced across your side, and you hissed, twisting to avoid a deeper wound. Blood soaked into your suit, but you ignored it, focusing on staying alive.

Then the explosion hit.

A grenade thrown from somewhere behind you detonated against one of the stacked crates. The force sent you flying, crashing through a pile of debris. Your ears rang, and your vision blurred.

Somewhere in the distance, you heard Tim’s voice in your earpiece. “Hold on I’m almost there!”

Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself to move.

You weren’t dying here.

When the dust settled, the mercenaries were either unconscious or retreating. The explosives were still intact, and Tim arrived just in time to secure them.

But you were wrecked.

He looked at you, taking in the blood seeping from your side. “You’re an idiot.”

You gave a weak smirk. “Yeah. But at least I was right.”

Tim muttered something under his breath before helping you out of the warehouse.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° ✩

The moment you step off the platform, you feel him before you see him.

Bruce is waiting. Arms crossed. Silent.

He’s still in the Batsuit, the cowl pulled back, his expression unreadable but you know better. You’ve seen that look before.

Tim doesn’t say a word. He just gives you one final glance and walks off, leaving you alone with the inevitable.

You brace yourself, but Bruce doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t have to. His disappointment is a physical weight in the air.

“You abandoned your partner,” he says, voice like stone.

“I chased a lead.”

“You disobeyed orders.”

You grit your teeth. “It was the right call.”

He steps forward, and suddenly, you feel small. Not because you’re afraid Bruce would never hurt you but because his presence alone is suffocating.

“The right call?” His tone sharpens. “You were injured. You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t,” you argue, though the sting in your side says otherwise.

Bruce exhales slowly, his jaw tightening. “You’re reckless.”

“You don’t say that when literally anyone else is on a mission,” you snap.

He doesn’t answer immediately, and that silence stings. Because you already know the truth. You’re different. You’re his daughter. And that changes everything. but it doesn’t Damien is younger than you. You don’t get it.

“You’re dismissed,” he finally says, voice cold.

You hesitate, fists clenched, but there’s no point in arguing. Not when his mind is already made up.

You turn and head toward the med bay, fuming the entire way.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° ✩

You’re half out of your suit, sitting on the medical table while Alfred patches up your side, when Jason storms into the Batcave like a force of nature.

“The hell happened tonight?”

You groan. Of course he found out.

Bruce, still near the Batcomputer, barely glances up. “Jason”

Jason ignores him, turning straight to you. His eyes flick to the bloodstained bandages, and his expression darkens. “Who did this?”

“Relax,” you sigh. “It’s just a scratch.”

Jason scoffs. “A scratch?” He turns to Bruce, eyes blazing. “What the hell was she doing in a situation where she could end up like this?”

“I made the call,” you interject. “It was my decision.”

Jason looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “That’s not a good thing, dumbass.”

You scowl. “It’s part of the job.”

Jason shakes his head, pacing. “Nah. No. You shouldn’t be out there like this. He shouldn’t be letting you”

“I let her do nothing,” Bruce interrupts, his voice a low warning.

Jason laughs humorless, sharp. “Oh, really? Because it looks to me like you’re putting her through the same damn cycle we all went through. How long before she ends up dead in an alley too?”

“Jason”

“No, screw that,” Jason snaps. “You’re just letting her walk into this life like it’s fine. Like it’s not gonna chew her up and spit her out like the rest of us.”

You push yourself up from the table, ignoring the sharp sting in your side. “I chose this, Jason. No one forced me.”

Jason turns his glare on you. “You don’t get it, do you? You think this is just about being a hero, about doing good?” He scoffs. “It’s a death sentence.”

You clench your jaw. “So what, you expect me to just sit at home and do nothing?”

“I expect you to be smarter than this,” he snaps.

Before you can fire back, his eyes narrow, and suddenly, the conversation takes a sharp turn.

“Speaking of dumb decisions,” Jason mutters, crossing his arms. “You’re still with Superboy, right?”

Your frustration spikes. “Oh my godseriously?”

Jason gives you a deadpan look. “knock off superman? Really? You could do better.”

You throw your hands up. “Why does everyone have a problem with me dating Conner?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Because he’s a walking red flag wrapped in blue spandex.”

You glare. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Jason scowls. “I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone.”

He doesn’t deny it.

You exhale sharply, rubbing your temples. “Look, I’m tired, I’m injured, and I don’t have the energy for this right now.”

Jason studies you for a moment, then sighs, running a hand through his hair. His anger hasn’t faded completely, but the sharp edge of it has dulled.

“Fine,” he mutters. “But if he ever screws up, I will break his face.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a flicker of something warmer underneath the annoyance. Jason will never say it outright, but you know what this is.

It’s not just anger. It’s fear.

Bruce was right about one thing losing people leaves scars. And Jason? He has more than most. He won’t stop you from fighting your battles. But he’ll sure as hell be there when you fall.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° ✩

Dating in the Batfamily was a challenge. Dating Conner Kent? That was practically a declaration of war.

You weren’t an idiot you knew what your family thought of him. Bruce didn’t trust him. Superman’s clone, an unpredictable force of power, a boy with too much strength and too little control. That’s how your father saw him, at least. Jason didn’t respect him. “A knock off in a leather jacket? Come on, you can do so much better.”

Tim was wary. Conner was his best friend, but even he had his doubts when it came to you.

And your mother? Selina raised a delicate brow when she first caught wind of your relationship, a teasing smirk playing at her lips. “Oh, darling,” she had purred. “You know how your father’s going to react, right?”

You had sighed, rubbing your temples. “Yes, Mother, I know.”

She had hummed in amusement. “Well, Im starting to think i’m a bad influence, at least try not to be like me and your dad.”

“Mom.”

She had only laughed.

At first, it was easier to keep it hidden. You and Conner met in the shadows, in places no one else would look.

Abandoned rooftops, dimly lit diners on the outskirts of the city, quiet parks in the dead of night where he could float just above the ground, keeping you wrapped in the warmth of his presence.

He wasn’t like Superman and you weren’t just Batman’s daughter.

That’s what you loved about being with him. When he looked at you, he didn’t see the vigilante, the heir to Gotham’s dark legacy. He didn’t see someone who had to be perfect. He saw you. Your flaws, your fears, your messy, complicated emotions. And he never tried to change them.

“I don’t care about what your dad thinks,” he had told you once, leaning back against the fire escape outside your window. “Or your brothers. Or your mom, even.”

You raised a brow. “Not even a little?”

He grinned. “Okay, maybe a little. But it doesn’t change anything.”

You had smirked. “You are stubborn.”

“Says the girl who won’t admit she likes me.”

You scoffed, but he had been right. Liking him had been the easy part. Accepting that he was yours? That had been harder.

Gotham was a city of ghosts.

Your life had been built on shadows, on silent movements, on always thinking five steps ahead. Mistakes had consequences, emotions were weaknesses, and attachments?

They got you killed.

But Conner… Conner made you feel like you were alive.

He never cared about the weight of your family name. He never expected you to be perfect. He let you be wrong, and he still stood by you.

One night, after a brutal mission, you had been exhausted, bruised, and pissed at your father for another round of overprotection.

Conner had found you on the rooftop of your shared apartment, sitting at the edge, staring out at the skyline.

He had landed softly beside you, his presence warm against the cold night.

“You okay?”

You hadn’t answered right away.

Then, quietly, you had admitted, “Sometimes I think its much more worth it to leave this place”

Conner had been silent for a moment before he shifted closer. “Yeah. I get that.”

And you knew he did. Superman saw him as something broken. A project. An accident to be controlled. Bruce saw you as something fragile. Something not ready.

You had glanced at Conner then, at the way he looked at you not as something to fix, but as someone whole. You had leaned into him, and he had let you.

That was the thing about Conner.

He didn’t just love you. He trusted you to be exactly who you were.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Your father was the last to acknowledge it.

Bruce had spent months pretending you weren’t sneaking out to see Conner, pretending he didn’t know why your patrol routes started conveniently lining up with the edge of the city.

But Bruce noticed everything. eventually, he noticed him. It started with the little things.

Conner was always near you in battle, always the first to shield you from an explosion, always ready to catch you if you fell.

Bruce watched the way Conner would take the hit for you not because he thought you couldn’t handle it, but because he could. Conner was powerful, but he never used that strength to control you. He never underestimated you.

One night, after a particularly nasty fight against a group of assassins, you had ended up battered and bloody, a knife wound deep in your side.

Conner had carried you back to the Cave.

Bruce had been waiting.

The air had been tense as Conner laid you gently on the med bay table, his jaw tight, eyes burning with barely contained fury.

“She shouldn’t have been alone,” Conner had said, voice sharp.

Bruce had met his glare, unreadable. “Yeah she shouldn’t have.”

“Then act right on this and she wouldn’t have been alone,” Conner snapped. “shes strong but I don’t care like assholes like you neither does she.”

Silence.

Then Bruce had simply turned and walked away. It wasn’t approval. But it wasn’t rejection, either. You supposed, in his way, Bruce was starting to understand.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° ✩

Looking back now, lying in the med bay once again, you let out a slow breath.

The room was empty.

The cave was silent.

Your body ached, your side still throbbing from the mission gone wrong. You stared at the ceiling, letting exhaustion creep in.

Jason’s words still echoed in your head.

“Tights and a cape? Really?”

You sighed.

They’d never understand.

when Conner held you, when he saw you, when he treated you like something more than just Batman’s daughter… It didn’t matter what anyone else thought.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° ✩

Gotham was different when Dick was in town. Maybe it was the way he carried himself loose, easy, like the city didn’t weigh on his shoulders the way it did on everyone else’s. Maybe it was because he didn’t live here anymore, so Gotham’s shadows didn’t cling to him the way they clung to you, to Jason, to Bruce.

Either way, his presence always changed the air. Right now, though? It just made the tension in the Batcave feel even heavier.

Dick had barely been back for a full twenty four hours before he noticed. The way Bruce’s jaw was tighter than usual, how Jason was avoiding both of you, how Tim kept smirking behind his coffee cup like he was enjoying the chaos. And you?

You were just done.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just watched.

Watched as Bruce checked your gear three times before your patrol. Watched as Jason kept throwing pointed glances your way, muttering curses under his breath like you were the idiot. Watched as Tim leaned back against the Batcomputer with the most entertained expression, like this was his own personal sitcom.

Eventually, Dick just sighed.

“Alright, kid,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Burgers. Let’s go.”

Bruce barely looked up. “She has patrol.”

Dick raised a brow. “No, she has burgers with her favorite brother.”

Jason scoffed from across the room. “Favorite? Yeah, okay, Nightwing.”

Tim sipped his coffee. “I don’t know, Jay. He is also my favourite.”

You didn’t argue. You just grabbed your jacket and followed Dick out before Bruce could protest.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The diner was a little hole in the wall place, tucked between two crumbling buildings. Greasy food, crappy lighting, the kind of place that felt like Gotham to its core. You slumped into the booth, arms crossed as Dick slid in across from you.

He didn’t push. Didn’t prod. Just casually unwrapped his burger and took a bite, waiting. It didn’t take long for you to break.

“He treats me like a soldier,” you said suddenly, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Not even a good one. Just one he doesn’t trust to make their own decisions.”

Dick chewed, nodding. “Bruce?”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously Bruce.”

You picked at your fries. “he’s such an ass, i know he’s had this tough love thing since Jason but god why cant he let me be? Every move I make, he second guesses. Every mission, he reroutes my patrol to keep me ‘safer.’ He acts like I’m some reckless idiot who’s one bad decision away from getting killed.”

Dick hummed. “Jason probably isn’t helping.”

You huffed. “Oh, he’s worse. At least Bruce lets me fight Jason acts like I’m made of glass. Like I need protecting, like I can’t handle myself.”

Dick smirked. “Well, you did almost get blown up yesterday.”

You scowled. “That’s not the point.”

“Mmhmm.”

You ignored him and kept going.

“And then there’s Tim. Who just smirks. Like he enjoys watching me get lectured by dad and chewed out by Jason. Like this is all some kind of entertainment to him.”

Dick laughed. “It is entertaining.”

You threw a fry at him. He caught it without looking.

“It’s just” You exhaled sharply. “Bruce doesn’t trust me, Jason coddles me, and Tim thinks it’s all a joke. And yet Damian gets to do whatever the hell he wants.”

Dick raised a brow. “Ah. So this is about Damian.”

You stabbed your fork into your fries. “It’s not. It’s about all of it. But also? Yeah. It’s about Damian.”

Dick took another bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully. “Bruce would let him get away with murder?”

“Literally,” you muttered. “Meanwhile, I take one risk one calculated risk and suddenly I’m ‘not ready.’”

Dick sighed, setting his burger down. “Okay. So, what’s the actual problem?”

You frowned. “I just told you”

“No, I mean the real problem. You don’t actually care that Bruce is strict. You expect that. You don’t even care that Jason’s overprotective he does that to everyone he loves.”

You looked away. “…So?”

“So,” he said, smirking, “what you actually hate is that they don’t see you as an equal.”

You frowned.

Dick leaned back, crossing his arms. “They see you as their little sister. Their daughter. They see someone they have to protect, not someone they can trust.”

Your grip on your fork tightened. “And that’s not fair.”

“No,” he agreed easily. “It’s not.”

Silence stretched between you.

Then, casually, Dick added, “But hey, at least Conner treats you like an equal.”

You froze mid bite.

Slowly, you looked up at him.

He grinned.

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t.”

He tilted his head. “What?”

“Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” he teased. “You could’ve gone for someone normal, but nooo. You had to pick another dark, broody, overpowered meathead”

“Dick, I swear”

“You surround yourself with annoying guys”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Never speak again.”

“Oh, absolutely not.” He leaned forward, eyes glinting mischievously. “In fact, I think I should speak more. Maybe bring this up at family dinner. Hey, Bruce, did you know your daughter has a thing for emotionally constipated guys in leather?”

You threw another fry at him.

He dodged it effortlessly, laughing.

“Dick. I will kill you.”

“I kinda want to meet this guy.”

You glared.

He just smiled. But despite your annoyance, despite everything Bruce’s overprotection, Jason’s coddling, Tim’s smirking something about the conversation helped. Because at least one of your brothers saw you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° ✩

You regretted ever telling your family now. Dick knowing about Conner means you’ve been introduced to hell.

oh satan over there? yeah he’s on the body of your bug brother.

Not because he was mad not even because he was disapproving but because he was Dick.

Which meant relentless teasing.

Which meant grinning at you like he had the world’s juiciest blackmail material. Which meant the exact sentence that had been haunting you ever since your burger night.

“I want to meet my younger sister’s hero.”

It had been two days. Two. And he would not let it go.

You tried to avoid it. Tried to make excuses. But Dick was persistent.

So now here you were on a Gotham rooftop, arms crossed, glaring at him as he sat on the ledge like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m interested,” he corrected. “I mean, c’mon. I’ve only ever heard about this guy from our brothers, and none of them have anything nice to say.” He smirked. “Figured I should form my own opinion.”

You groaned. “Can you not?”

“Oh, I definitely can,” he said. “I just won’t.”

Before you could argue further, a gust of wind swept through the air, and There he was.

Conner landed a few feet away, hands in his jacket pockets, red cape billowing slightly behind him. His gaze flickered between you and Dick, brows furrowed in mild suspicion.

“You okay?” he asked you first, like he always did.

You exhaled. “Yeah. I just ” You shot Dick a look. “Had a situation to handle.”

Conner raised an eyebrow.

Dick, meanwhile, was grinning.

“Well, well, well,” he said, standing up and brushing off his suit. “The infamous Superboy.”

Conner’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And you’re…?”

Dicks mouth dropped glancing to you “Oh, wow. That actually hurt.” Then he extended a hand. “Dick Grayson. Also known as Nightwing. Also known as best older brother. Nice to finally meet you.”

Conner eyed him for a second before shaking his hand. “…Right.”

Dick’s smirk widened. “So. You’re the little guy my little sister’s been sneaking around with, huh?”

You instantly regretted your entire life.

Conner’s gaze flickered to you before he answered, clearly unsure how to respond. “Guess so…?”

“Oh, I like him already,” Dick laughed. “Got that classic ‘brooding hero’ energy. I see the appeal.”

You glared. “Dick”

“I mean, you do have a type,” he continued, grinning at you. “The whole ‘dark, broody, overpowered’ thing? Classic. keep the family values. I respect it.”

Conner glanced at you, fidgeting slightly as if trying to hold back a laugh. “its not a wrong point.”

You smacked his arm. “Not you too.”

Dick just laughed. “So. How’s the Super life treating you?”

Conner shrugged awkwardly, clearly not sure how to navigate the conversation. “Could be worse.”

“Dealing with my family yet?”

“All the time.”

Dick nodded sagely. “Yeah, that’s rough, buddy.”

Conner gave a quiet, awkward chuckle. “It’s not that bad.” His gaze softened slightly when he looked at you. “She makes it easier.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. Then slowly he grinned.

“Oh, man,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re down bad.”

You groaned. “Dick. it’s gross when you say that. Shut up.”

“I love this,” he continued, delighted. “This is so much better than I imagined.”

Conner crossed his arms and tried to lean against the ledge nonchalantly, but there was a slight stiff tension in his posture. “I wont stop her if she starts fighting”

Dick gasped, hand over his heart. “You’d turn her against me?”

“mmmmm i’m in a Y/n wrongs and right are rights morality,” Conner pointed out with a soft, awkward chuckle.

Dick sighed. “ew you sound like me with women.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. We’re done here.”

But before you could drag Conner away, Dick clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, all jokes aside,” he said, suddenly more serious, “I get why Bruce and Jason are… difficult about this. You’re powerful. You’re dangerous. You’re not one of us.”

Conner tensed slightly, glancing over at you like he didn’t know how to respond.

Dick met his gaze. “But I see how you look at her. And I see how she looks at you.” His expression softened. “So, for what it’s worth? You’ve got my approval.”

Conner blinked, clearly caught off guard. He cleared his throat, trying to hide the flush creeping up his neck. “Wasn’t asking.”

Dick grinned. “Oh, I really like you.”

You groaned. “I hate both of you.”

Conner just took your hand, squeezing lightly, trying to brush off the awkwardness that had started to settle in. “You love me.” he whispered

You muttered something under your breath. Dick slung an arm around your shoulders, still grinning.

“Alright, Superboy. Don’t break her heart. Or I will break you.”

Conner didn’t flinch. “You could try.”

“Ohhh, I really really like him.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ ° ✩

The gala was everything you dreaded about Gotham’s elite. The high end designers. The glittering chandeliers. The fake smiles and empty conversations about stock markets and charities you knew were just tax write offs. You were dreading it. But you had no choice. Your dad had insisted.

“You’re going with me,” Bruce had said, his tone one you couldn’t argue with. “Damien’s going too.”

Damien.

You rolled your eyes. If there was one silver lining, it was that Damien would make the night more bearable. Sure, he was insufferable, but deep down, he was your favorite… well one of them.

You didn’t know when it started, but you couldn’t deny it. Every time someone made a comment about you, something snide about being Bruce Wayne’s daughter or how you’d grown up in a world of privilege, Damien was right there. He might have been a bratty little boy, but he had a surprisingly soft spot for you.

He’d bark back at anyone who dared talk down to you. And that always made you smile.

Still, you hated the galas. The whole act of pretending to be someone you weren’t, of feigning interest in the people who rubbed elbows with the most corrupt figures in Gotham. It made you feel like you were just another part of Bruce Wayne’s PR machine, just another Wayne for the rich to admire, the perfect daughter.

You weren’t. At least not in the way they thought you were.

⸻

You stood in front of the mirror in your dress, adjusting the neckline slightly. It wasn’t too flashy. Not as tight or revealing as some of the other dresses you’d seen at these events. It wasn’t your style to try and look like you were above everyone else. There was an elegance to it, sure, but it wasn’t over the top.

You sighed, glancing at the clock. You were almost late. You had not been in the mood to get dressed up and pretend you weren’t itching to leave this stupid party as soon as you walked in.

The door to your room creaked open just a bit, and you turned to see Damien standing in the doorway, his usual scowl plastered on his face.

“Are you done yet?” he demanded, crossing his arms.

You blinked at him. “Are you done yet? You look like a little mini Bruce.”

He shot you a glare. “I’ll have you know, I’m a Wayne too, and I’m far superior to Father in many ways.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Mm. Sure, Damien. If that’s what helps you sleep at night.”

Damien’s eyes narrowed in the way they always did when he was being stubborn. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t embarrass the family again.”

“Again?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

You chuckled. “Whatever, Damien. Just don’t get in my way.”

He huffed, but his expression softened for a second. “You know, you don’t have to act like you don’t belong there. It’s your place.”

The rare kindness from Damien caught you off guard. You almost wanted to tease him about it, but something in the way he said it made you pause.

Before you could respond, Bruce’s voice echoed from downstairs. “Damien, [Y/N], let’s go.”

You rolled your eyes. No escape.

⸻

The gala was in full swing when you arrived, the grand ballroom filled with well dressed Gotham’s elite, all laughing, talking, and pretending to be better than they really were. As you walked in behind Bruce and Damien, you couldn’t help but feel like a fish out of water.

Damien, ever the mini Bruce, stepped confidently beside you, his posture straight, eyes sharp. He barely even looked at anyone around him, already ready to shoot down any attempts at conversation. You, on the other hand, put on your best poker face, walking with your head high, but your mind already halfway to escaping.

Bruce was already surrounded by some of the usual suspects, but it didn’t take long for the first person to notice you.

“You know,” a woman with a glass of champagne in hand said, smiling in that way people did when they thought they were better than you. “It’s nice to see the Wayne family so well represented. A fine, upstanding family, despite… well, you know…”

The pause was intentional, like she wanted to see if you’d react to the snide remark. It was a comment about your family’s history, a little jab that no one dared speak out loud but always found a way to slip into their conversations. Isnt being a woman supposed to be about supporting other women? Damien arguably had the same history as you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Damien beat you to it.

“That’s quite enough.” He said it flatly, stepping forward with a warning glare. “I’m sure if you don’t have anything productive to say, you’d be better off leaving.”

The woman blinked, surprised by the bluntness, but Damien was already walking away, his weird little aura behind him like he was some miniature Dark Knight.

You couldn’t help but smile at him. You were right. He was your favorite.

Bruce glanced at you both, an eyebrow arched. He had seen the whole exchange. You could practically feel him holding back a smirk.

“Damien,” Bruce said, his voice a little too controlled. “You don’t have to go picking fights.”

Damien didn’t back down. “I’m simply defending Y/n. Some of these people need to remember their place.”

Bruce didn’t say anything, but the faintest glimmer of approval passed through his gaze, and it was enough.

⸻

The night dragged on, but you found yourself less uncomfortable with Damien by your side. His quiet protectiveness, the way he always seemed to catch the smallest slight before you did, made it easier to navigate the pretentious conversations. Every time someone made a comment about your family, you could feel Damien’s posture tense and his eyes narrow. And each time, he defended you.

Despite everything, despite how much you complained about his bratty tendencies, Damien was your brat. the weight of the night began to settle. The glittering lights of the gala still flickered in your mind, but the presence of your father and Damien beside you made the ride back almost bearable. Damien, as usual, sat stiffly, his posture perfect even in the backseat of the car, while Bruce remained uncharacteristically quiet, his gaze focused out the window.

You couldn’t help but glance over at Damien, who was looking out his own window, seemingly lost in thought. There had been a moment earlier when Bruce had shared a look with him, something small but meaningful a look you couldn’t quite place. But it was enough to make you feel something unspoken between the two of them. It wasn’t often you saw your father show a soft spot for anyone, let alone his own kids.

The car pulled up to the Manor, and as it came to a stop, you turned to Damien, the words already spilling out before you could stop them.

“You know, you’re not as bad as you pretend to be,” you said, voice teasing but soft. “I might just like you after all.”

Damien scoffed. “You shouldn’t like me. I’m better than you, after all.”

“Pfft, whatever,” you grinned, ignoring his words. The sudden burst of affection you felt in that moment made you throw all your self control out the window. Without thinking, you lunged at him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

Damien let out an exaggerated, dramatic gasp, his body going stiff in shock. “Unhand me, woman,” he hissed, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden outburst of affection.

You ignored his protests, squeezing him tighter. “Nope! Not until you admit that you love me.”

Damien scowled, his face flushing just slightly. “I do not love you, you foolish girl.” But there was no hiding the faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as he tried unsuccessfully to push you away.

Bruce, who had been watching the exchange with mild amusement, cleared his throat from the front seat, as though reminding you both that you weren’t exactly alone. But it was too late to stop now.

You pulled back just enough to look Damien in the eye, still grinning like a cat. “Come on, admit it. I know you love me.”

Damien tried to glare at you, but there was no hiding the slight curve of his lips. “I tolerate you,” he said begrudgingly.

You held him tighter. “Close enough!”

He growled, finally breaking free from your grip. “This is not over,” he muttered under his breath, adjusting his suit with a dramatic flair.

You leaned back, still grinning like an idiot. “Sure, sure, Damien. You can pretend all you want.”

Bruce finally spoke up, his tone surprisingly light. “Alright, break it up, you two. We’ve still got a whole night to get through.”

Damien shot a glare at Bruce. “I’m not the one causing disruptions here.”

You and Bruce shared a look, and for just a brief second, you saw it, something rare and almost tender between the two of them. Damien wasn’t as bad as you’d thought. he had his own way of showing care.

Damien, still grumbling, marched ahead toward the front door, muttering something about how he was going to “train” and “get away from these ridiculous people.” But you knew better. Underneath the bravado, Damien was just like everyone else in this family he cared.

As you stepped out of the car and onto the front porch of Wayne Manor, the cool night air hit your face, carrying the faint scent of rain. You were exhausted, mentally drained from the fake smiles and shallow conversations of the gala, and the weight of the night hung heavy on your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to retreat to your room, get out of this damn dress, and let your thoughts settle.

But as you walked toward the front door, something or rather someone caught your eye. Standing by the door, just under the archway of the Manor, was a familiar silhouette. The figure straightened when he saw you approach, a soft smile appearing on his face.

Conner.

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t expected him to be here, but there he was, waiting for you, like he always did.

“Hey,” you said softly, as you run over to him. your exhaustion suddenly lifting at the sight of him.

He tilted his head, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. “You look… very beautiful tonight.”

You let out a small, tired chuckle. “Beautiful? someone is learning how to express his emotions”

Conner’s brow furrowed, his eyes scanning you like he could see the exhaustion beneath your calm exterior. He stepped forward, his large frame nearly blocking the door. “You okay?”

You nodded, but only half heartedly. “Yeah, just… tired of it all. Tired of pretending.”

Conner didn’t say anything at first, but his gaze softened. His next words were simple, but they always meant more than you expected. “you’re done now, don’t have to think about it now.”

You stepped closer to him, letting the tension in your body melt just a little. “Thanks, Conner. It means a lot. I don’t think I could stand much more of these stupid galas if I didn’t know you’d be waiting for me.”

He smiled at that, the kind of smile that made your heart flutter in your chest, as he stepped aside to let you in. “Always. You know I’ve got your back.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “You’re the best.”

Conner chuckled, stepping back as you passed him. “I’m just doing my job, keeping you out of trouble.”

You shot him a playful look over your shoulder. “Really? Keeping me out of trouble?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, you seem to find it even when I’m not around.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but the moment you passed him, you felt his hand gently grasp your arm, a soft but firm hold that pulled you back toward him.

“What?” you asked, confused.

Conner was staring at you, his blue eyes intense but gentle. “You looked like you needed someone tonight. If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

You stared at him for a moment, letting his words settle. But instead of saying anything, you simply let out a long sigh and let your shoulders relax. You didn’t need to talk about it now. Not when Conner was here, offering comfort without the need for words.

Instead, you smiled softly, stepping into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “I think… I think I just need this right now.”

Conner wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as if to shield you from everything outside this moment. “I’ve got you.”

You closed your eyes, letting the familiar warmth of his embrace wrap around you.

The moment of quiet was shattered by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.

You tensed slightly, already knowing exactly who it was before you even turned your head.

Bruce stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable but his presence alone was enough to make the warmth in your chest falter just a bit.

“It’s late,” he said, voice even, but carrying that weight of authority only he could manage. “You should be inside now.”

You sighed, pulling back slightly from Conner but keeping your hand locked around his wrist. Of course, Bruce had impeccable timing.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” you muttered, turning toward the door but you didn’t let go of Conner. Instead, you tugged him along with you, acting like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Bruce’s eyes flicked down to your hand still gripping Conner’s, his expression barely changing, but you knew he noticed.

Conner hesitated for half a second, casting a glance between you and your father, as if gauging whether it was a terrible idea to follow you inside. But you weren’t giving him a choice.

Bruce let out the tiniest sigh, stepping aside to let you both in, but not without a warning glance at Conner.

“Don’t make me regret this,” Bruce said evenly.

Conner just glared at him, tight lipped smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

You definitely caught the way Bruce’s brow twitched ever so slightly at the sir, but you didn’t dwell on it. You just smirked to yourself and pulled Conner further into the Manor, past your father, past all the unspoken tension, and straight toward the one place you could finally relax.

Conner leaned in as you walked, voice low and teasing. “You dragged me in here.”

You grinned up at him. “What, scared of my dad?”

Conner huffed. “No. But I am scared of what your brothers are gonna say when they see me here.”

You just laughed. “Oh, you should be.”

As you pulled Conner deeper into the Manor, you moved quickly, knowing full well that the longer you lingered, the higher the chance of getting ambushed by one of your loving brothers.

You practically speed walked through the grand hall, past the dimly lit corridors.

“Ah, welcome home, Miss.”

You skidded to a stop as Alfred appeared seemingly out of nowhere, standing near the bottom of the staircase with his usual composed demeanor.

Conner tensed beside you, standing up straighter like he was about to get scolded. Clearly, even he wasn’t immune to Alfred’s presence.

You shot the butler a quick smile, still keeping a tight grip on Conner’s wrist. “Hey, Alfred. Gala was awful, as expected. Goodnight!”

And before he could reply, you dragged Conner up the stairs.

“Goodnight, Miss. Goodnight, Mister Conner,” Alfred called after you, voice laced with mild amusement.

Conner barely managed to glance over his shoulder to offer a polite, “Uh goodnight, sir,” before he was pulled around the corner and out of sight.

When you finally made it to your room, you threw the door open and all but shoved Conner inside before shutting it behind you with a sigh of relief.

“Okay, safe,” you muttered, leaning against the door.

Conner raised a brow. “You act like we just broke into the White House.”

You pointed a finger at him. “This house probably has better security than the white house.”

Conner snorted, shaking his head as he glanced around your room. He’d been here before, but it was still surreal for him standing in Wayne Manor.

You walked over to your bed, flopping onto it dramatically. “I swear, I love Alfred, but he always pops up at the worst moments. It’s like a sixth sense.”

Conner smirked, stepping closer. “Maybe he was just making sure I wasn’t sneaking in to corrupt his favorite Wayne.”

You peeked up at him through your arms. “Bold of you to assume I’m his favorite.”

He sat down beside you, resting his elbows on his knees. “You definitely are.”

You grinned, nudging him lightly with your foot. “Flatter me more, Superboy.”

Conner just chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need flattery. You already know how great you are.”

You huffed, rolling onto your side. “Tell that to my dad.”

Conner didn’t say anything right away, just let his hand rest on yours, grounding you. You let out a slow breath, the exhaustion of the day finally settling in.

“Get some sleep,” Conner murmured. “I’ll stay as long as you want.”

You didn’t even think about it before squeezing his hand. “Stay.”

And he did.

Conner sat beside you on the bed, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against your wrist. The room was dimly lit, casting shadows across his face, making his blue eyes stand out even more than usual. He was warm, solid, grounding in a way you desperately needed after the night you’d had.

You shifted closer, tilting your head up toward him. He caught the movement instantly, his gaze flicking down to your lips before he leaned in, closing the space between you.

The kiss was gentle at first, unhurried. His lips pressed against yours in a way that made your chest tighten not with nerves, but with something softer, something steady. His hand slid up, fingertips brushing your jaw before cradling your face, pulling you just a little closer.

You sighed against him, your hands resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. He kissed you again, deeper this time, as if memorizing the shape of your lips, as if reminding himself that you were here, that you were his.

A loud noise from the window, followed by the distinct sound of fabric rustling, and then.

THUD.

Conner barely had time to pull back before a voice cut through the moment.

“Oh, come on I just ate.”

You both snapped your heads toward the window, where Tim stood, looking absolutely horrified, like he’d just walked in on the worst crime imaginable.

You groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Jesus Christ, Tim”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose like he was experiencing actual pain. “You know I tolerate this relationship for your sake, right? Doesn’t mean I need to see it.”

“Theres a reason we’re in my room with the door closed. what did you even want anyways”

“Ok miss shitbag, I was gonna see if you brought any food from the gala”

Conner, looking far too smug for someone just caught making out, leaned back on his hands. “You could’ve knocked.”

Tim made a disgusted face. “Knocked? On her window? I didn’t think I needed a warning before coming in.” He gestured wildly between the two of you. “I thought I was safe! But no, I have to live with the trauma of seeing my best friend all over my sister.”

You threw a pillow at him. “We weren’t even doing anything!”

Tim caught it with one hand, unimpressed. “There was face touching. That’s enough.”

Conner just shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I think she’s a better kisser than you.”

Tim immediately gagged, doubling over like he’d been physically attacked. “WHY WOULD THAT MAKE ME FEEL BETTER?!”

You burst out laughing, while Conner grinned like he’d won something.

Tim groaned dramatically, shaking his head as he turned toward the window. “I hate this. I hate both of you. I’m leaving.”

“Goodnight, Tim,” you called sweetly.

“I hope you both stub your toes,” he shot back before disappearing out the window.

As soon as he was gone, you turned to Conner, still grinning. “You did that on purpose.”

Conner smirked. “Maybe.”

You rolled your eyes before pulling him back down into another kiss because if Tim was gonna be dramatic about it, you might as well make it worth it.