#and yes i had to use ‘smiling’ I’m sorry

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Lost and found 2

Part 2 of this storie.

Genre : request, fluff, oneshot

Pairing : Lando Norris x teacher!Y/N

The day after the Monaco Grand Prix, Y/N sat cross-legged on her tiny balcony, sipping lukewarm coffee and grading spelling quizzes from her students.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: You owe me one, remember? Still waiting for my “thank you” dinner, Miss Y/N.

Her eyebrows lifted.

Y/N: I’m sorry… who is this and how did you get my number?

Three dots blinked back almost instantly.

Unknown Number: A good magician never reveals his secrets. Let’s just say… you left quite an impression.

Y/N: Lando ? How did you get my number? Did Sara give it to you?

Lando : (Contact saved) You left so quickly yesterday, I didn’t get the chance to ask. And no, Sara didn’t give it to me, though I suspect she’d do just about anything to help my case It wasn’t that hard to find you. Monaco’s small. 😌

Y/N stared at her phone, heart doing a weird little skip in her chest.

Y/N: You could’ve just asked like a normal person. I guess I did already say yes to a date... No need to recruit a spy agency.

Lando : Well, Miss Y/N, I didn’t want to miss my shot. Besides, you disappeared into the crowd didn't have time to ask

Y/N: Sorry I ghosted. I had 20 kids to not lost again Which, by the way, went surprisingly okay. No one else wandered off. Not even Ella, and she’s usually one “Look! A butterfly!” away from vanishing.

Lando : Impressive. Gold star for you. ⭐ Also, congrats to me, I guess? For the race? Just wondering if you noticed I, you know… podiumed.

Y/N: Oh wow, did you race yesterday? I had no idea. It’s not like you had your face plastered across every surface within a 3-mile radius. 🙄 But seriously, congrats. That was epic.👏

Lando : Was waiting for you to say that. Thanks 😊 Felt good. Monaco wins always do. But you know what feels better?

Y/N: What? Your lap time? The smell of champagne on fireproof suits?

Lando : Having a date with a cute teacher.

Y/N: Smooth. Very smooth. Fine. I’m free Thursday night. But only if you promise not to bring any stickers.

Lando : Can’t promise that. Might be my signature move.

Thursday night in Monaco felt less like a date and more like something out of a movie. Warm golden streetlights cast long reflections over the marina, and the soft hum of distant music floated from open terraces. Y/N checked her phone for the fourth time, then shook her head and laughed at herself.

This is ridiculous, she thought. It’s just dinner.

But it wasn’t just dinner. It was a date. With Lando Norris. Race winner. Flirtatious chaos incarnate.

She was halfway through mentally rehearsing excuses just in case, when she spotted him.

He was already there, waiting outside the restaurant, dressed in a crisp white shirt and navy trousers, hands tucked into his pockets, curls slightly more tamed than usual.

And smiling at her like he wasn’t used to waiting, but would wait hours if she asked.

“Wow,” he said as she approached. “You’re… georgous. Really elegant tonight.”

She smirked. “You clean up okay too. No McLaren cap tonigh ?”

“I brought one,” he teased, patting his chest. “Emergency use only.,if a kid get lost again”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “Let’s eat before you start handing them out.”

They were seated on a quiet terrace overlooking the water, the clink of glasses and the murmur of other diners providing just enough cover for nerves.

“So,” she began, folding her napkin, “when you’re not rescuing lost children and stealing phone numbers, how's is tour life like?”

Lando laughed. “Oh, just some light go-karting. On an international scale. No big deal.”

“I think I’ve heard of it,” she said dryly.

After a beat, he asked, “So what made you want to wrangle children for a living? Seems like you could do something far less… chaotic.”

She tilted her head. “Chaos is kind of my thing. Teaching’s exhausting, yeah, but it’s also... deeply rewarding. I love the curiosity, the little victories. And I love showing them something new. After the race, I had ten of them who wanted to do study downforce and tire compounds. Do you know how rare that is in a classroom?”

“Honestly?” he grinned. “Sounds like you’re raising the next generation of engineers.”

“I hope so. Or drivers. Or… I don’t know. Curious, kind humans.”

He watched her for a long second, then said, “You’re good at it, aren’t you?”

“I try,” she said, a little surprised by his tone.

“You are,” he said. “I saw how Sara looked at you. That wasn’t fear or just respect. She trusted you. And that doesn’t happen by accident.”

She felt her cheeks flush. “Careful, Norris. You’re starting to sound like a grown-up.”

He laughed, tilting his head. “Don’t get used to it. I’m usually a menace.”

“I figured,” she said. “Before I first met you, I honestly thought you were just some reckless, childish guy with too much confidence and not enough sense. I get enough of that during class.”

Lando clutched his chest, mock wounded. “Ouch. Harsh.”

“But fair,” she added.

He chuckled. “Okay, fine. You’re not wrong. I am childish sometimes. I like dumb jokes, fast things, and annoying my friends.” He paused, looking at her more seriously. “But tonight? I’m just trying to impress you.”

That stunned her into silence for a second.

She recovered with a soft smile. “Well. Consider me… mildly impressed.”

He grinned, but then she shifted the conversation again.

“You were so good with Sara. Not a lot of people know how to talk to kids. How are you so good at it?”

Something changed in his expression. He leaned back a little, fingers tapping lightly against his glass.

“I think…” he began slowly, “I think I just remember being that kid. The one who was obsessed with cars. Who lived and breathed racing. Who dreamt so big it didn’t even make sense. And if one of the drivers I admired had ever looked at me, really seen me and said something kind or just… paid attention? That would’ve meant everything.”

Y/N stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“So I try to be that guy now,” he said. “The one who makes space for those kids. Especially the little ones who look lost or overwhelmed. I don’t always get it right. But I try.”

She stared at him, moved. “That’s… honestly kind of beautiful.”

He shrugged, like brushing it off made it less vulnerable. “I mean, don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she whispered.

Their eyes met. Something shifted. The conversation slowed, deepened, turned into a soft current pulling them closer.

“So,” he said after a moment, playfully nudging her foot under the table, “how are we doing so far? Am I winning this date?”

She tilted her head, smirking. “You’ve avoided all major red flags. No chewing with your mouth open. No sticker bribes. A surprising amount of introspection.”

He grinned. “I’m saving the chewing-with-mouth-open for date three.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Date three? Already making plans?”

“Just saying,” he said, leaning closer, his voice a little lower, “if tonight ends with a yes, I’m definitely asking you out again.”

“And what makes you so confident I’ll say yes?”

“Because,” he murmured, eyes warm, “you’re smiling like you already have.”

She stared at him, this sweet, clever, chaotic, unexpectedly deep man and realized… he was right.

“Maybe I am,” she said quietly.

The restaurant’s terrace had long since emptied, the soft clink of cutlery replaced by the hush of late-night Monaco. Lando offered to walk her home before she even had to ask.

They stepped out onto the cobbled street, the glow from storefronts casting gentle halos on the sidewalk.

“So,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself more out of habit than chill, “do you always go full gentleman after a race win?”

Lando glanced sideways at her, hands tucked casually in his pockets. “Nope. This is strictly VIP treatment.”

“Oh? And what exactly did I do to earn such an upgrade?”

He grinned. “Didn’t tackle me when you found out I was famous. That alone deserves flowers.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I had a kid to chase. Didn’t have time for fangirling.”

“Exactly. You’re terrifyingly efficient. That’s very attractive.”

She smile and the space between them grow thiner, their hands brushing here and there.

They fell into step again, their pace unhurried, as if the night had conspired to slow down just for them.

Her apartment wasn’t far and when they reached her building’s steps, she turned to face him, one foot on the bottom stair.

“Well,” she said softly. “This is me.”

“I figured,” he said, glancing up toward the window with a small, almost boyish smile.

They stood there a moment, the silence between them full but not awkward. A good silence. A “neither of us wants to end this” kind of silence.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at her. “So… I had fun tonight.”

“Me too,” she said, heart ticking faster now that it was just the two of them, the city dim behind them.

“You’re not what I expected,” he added, voice quieter now. “You’re smarter. Sharper. And a lot harder to impress.”

She tilted her head. “Is that a challenge?”

His smile was crooked. “Maybe.”

She took a step down, so they were on the same level now, barely inches apart.

“You’re not what I expected either,” she admitted. “I thought you’d be all ego and reckless charm.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “To be fair, that is most of my personality.”

She chuckled. “But tonight you were kind. Thoughtful. Gentle.”

His expression softened, like she’d touched something just under the surface.

“I told you,” he said. “I was trying to impress you.”

“You did,” she said quietly. “You really did.”

The air between them changed, warmer, slower, like the universe had just given them a moment to breathe.

Lando leaned forward slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Would it be crazy if I kissed you right now?”

She blinked, heart now firmly lodged somewhere in her throat. “It might be.”

“But would it be wrong?”

Her answer came in the form of her hand reaching up to lightly touch his chest, steady, quiet confirmation.

He didn’t rush. He leaned in slow, his hand brushing gently along her jaw like he was still waiting for a sign to stop.

And when their lips finally met, soft, certain, and warm, the world around them faded entirely.

It wasn’t fireworks or a movie crescendo. It was better.

It was real.

He pulled back first, just slightly, lips still close, breath warm against her skin.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the paddock,” he murmured.

She smiled, eyes still closed for half a second longer. “And you did good not kissing me in front of one of my student.”

“Noted,” he said. “But I can’t promise anything.”

She laughed, then stepped back, just enough to let the space settle.

“Goodnight, Lando.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He waited until she slipped inside the building, still wearing that small, dreamy smile, then turned, hands in his pockets again, and walked into the Monaco night like the happiest man alive.

A month had passed since that night on the cobbled street outside her apartment, the night he’d kissed her like she was something fragile and electric all at once.

Since then, Lando and Y/N had slipped into something almost like a relationship. Late-night texts turned into coffee the next morning. Long FaceTime calls after his flights blurred into afternoons spent wrapped up on her couch, his head on her lap, her fingers brushing absentmindedly through his curls as they talked about things he didn’t usually let people hear.

He liked this quiet life with her. The slowness. The steadiness.

And though they hadn’t labeled anything, he was sure of what it was becoming.

He was falling for her.

Every time she laughed, every time she told a story about one of her kids with that glowing kind of fondness in her voice, he fell a little harder. It terrified him, in the best way.

Still, doubt crept in around the edges.

Would she really want him? The guy who lived out of suitcases, who flew to different time zones like it was just another grocery run? The one with microphones shoved in his face, rumors written in headlines, and fans who treated privacy like a joke?

Would she want to build something real with him, when her whole life was rooted in structure, patience, and carefully timed snack breaks?

Maybe.

And maybe not.

But today, he was going to find out.

He stood outside the school gate in Monaco, holding a slightly lopsided bouquet of tulips and daisies, the kind that looked somehow perfect for her. No reason, just because. Because she deserved flowers. Because he needed a little courage.

The plan had been simple: she’d told him she was free after class, and he offered to pick her up. But as the bell rang and parents trickled in, she still hadn’t appeared.

Inside, something colorful caught his eye through the half-open door to her classroom.

Ten kids remained.

Not in detention, in full, chaotic, unfiltered enthusiasm. They were gathered around her like she was a celebrity and a saint all at once, waving their drawings in her face with joyful urgency.

“Miss Y/N! Look! I drew your car with rocket boosters!”

“Miss, I made you getting married, look, I draw the dress!”

“I drew a giraffe. I like giraffes.”

Y/N knelt between them, laughing, holding each drawing like it was a museum piece.

“Oh wow, Maxime, that’s a very powerful rocket car. I’m not sure if it’s road-legal, but the shading is amazing.”

“Anna, this… is deeply concerning, but also? Very creative.”

“And Baptiste,” she smiled, holding up the giraffe. “Honestly? That’s the best one of the bunch.”

Lando leaned on the doorframe, still unseen, his heart punching hard against his ribs.

God, she was good at this.

He caught sight of Lara, the little girl from the paddock, now missing a front tooth and holding a drawing of what looked like a very abstract race car.

He smiled.

One day, he’d have to thank her properly.

Then one of the kids spotted him.

“MISS Y/N,” a small voice squealed. “LOOK! HE’S HERE! YOUR BOYFRIEND IS HERE!”

Y/N froze. All heads turned.

Lando straightened from the doorframe, holding the flowers like they might shield him from a stampede.

And it was a stampede.

“Oh my gosh, it’s the papaya driver!”

“Lando! Lando, do you drive to school?”

“Are you rich? How fast can you go? Do you have a yacht?!”

“Why are you here?”

“Can you sign my drawing?”

Amid the chaos, Y/N stood slowly, face bright red, one hand rising instinctively to her temple like she was bracing for impact.

She looked at Lando across the sea of tiny bodies.

He didn’t say anything. He just smiled.

And held out the flowers to her.

Her breath caught.

She took a step, then another, until she reached him. Her fingers closed around the stems.

“Hi,” she said, quiet and slightly breathless.

“Hi,” he replied, grinning like a complete idiot. “These are for you.”

She glanced down at them, then up again, some soft understanding blooming in her expression.

“Thanks,” she said. “They’re… really nice.”

One of the bolder kids shrieked, “IS HE YOUR BOYFRIEND OR WHAT?”

Silence fell.

Y/N looked at Lando.

He didn’t hesitate.

“Well,” he said, not loud enough for all ten kids to hear but she did, his eyes never left hers, “I’d like to be.”

She blinked, startled by the clarity of it.

He stepped closer, speaking now just for her.

“I know I travel a lot. I know my life’s a mess. But when I’m not racing, I want to be here. With you. Because this? Us? It’s the only thing lately that feels like home.”

Her eyes softened. A slow, unshakable smile curved her lips.

“Well,” she said, voice warm and amused. “I guess you are now, my boyfriend I mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Behind them, the kids erupted.

“I KNEW IT!”

“I told you she liked him!”

“Wait, are they gonna kiss now?”

“EW, GROSS!”

Y/N turned, laughing. “Alright, okay, okay! Everyone, backpacks on, we’re leaving! If you behave, maybe he’ll sign your drawing next time!”

The kids squealed in delight.

Lando leaned in as she gently ushered them out the door. “Was that a threat or a promise?”

She turned to him, eyes glittering. “You’ll find out.”

And when the last child finally left and the hallway quieted, he looked at her again, still smiling like he couldn’t believe his luck.

She held the flowers a little tighter, leaned in, and kissed him, quick, certain, unmistakably his.

“That,” she whispered, “was definitely a promise.”

And this time, there were no more questions left to ask.

taglist : @bunnisplayground, @vampgege, @chocolatemooncoffee, @sashisuslover, @gold66loveblog, @carlando4, @il0vereadingstuff, @lilith-123321, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @h-rtsnana, @anonomano, @guacala, @charlotteking27, @ninass-world, @scarletwidow3000, @taetae-armyyyyy, @mynameisangeloflife, @tsuniio, @sophxxkiss, @teti-menchon0604, @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut, @justcharlotte, @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies, @emneedshelp, @lando-505, @yukimaniac, @sashisuslover, @f1norris04, @dustie-faerie, @madicecream123, @landofotographyy, @moonayu, @l4nd0kkii441

[demie90s]

Can you write a reader x UConn team and reader has like no filter like they could be in the most serious moment and reader would say something out of pocket

Why she got a mic?

UConn WBB Team x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: Me. The team’s walking HR violation. No matter the mood, you will say something that has the whole team side-eyeing, laughing, or questioning reality.

Word Count: ~ 0.5k

Genre: Comedy, Team Fluff, Mild Crack

Warnings: Cussing, chaos, suggestiveness, mentions of thirst, reader being out of pocket at all times

The mic wasn’t even all the way clipped to your jersey before you started talking.

“So like…y’all gon’ feed us after this right? ‘Cause I don’t wanna sound ungrateful but that little fruit tray y’all gave us pregame made me feel like a parrot.”

You were dead serious. Meanwhile, the rest of the UConn team was already doing synchronized neck turns to Geno, who stared ahead like maybe if he focused hard enough he could astral project into retirement.

The reporter chuckled awkwardly. “Right, well—uh—let’s talk about the game. You had a breakout performance in the third quarter. What clicked?”

You nodded solemnly. “I had to pee real bad so I was tryna hurry up and get off the court. Y’all saw me running? That was urgency. It’s called motivation.”

Laughter broke out across the room. Aubrey dropped her head into her hands. Nika was crying silently.

Someone else raised their hand—braver than most.

“You guys really shut down USC’s offense tonight. What went into that defensive game plan?”

You tilted your head. “I mean, yeah. I saw that. USC good and all…but not as good as us so like…I don’t really care. Sorry.”

Caroline leaned in with a PR-smile. “What she means is we watched a lot of film and trusted each other—”

“No,” you cut in. “That’s not what I meant. I said what I said.”

The reporter blinked. “A-And uh—Aubrey, you had a great night on the boards…”

You slouched in your chair. “Yeah, and yet still no date.”

Aubrey snapped her head toward you. “Yo—”

“I told her, I said, ‘If God see fit and we win tonight, you gon’ say yes’—and we did. We won. And she still didn’t say yes. So she fake but that’s between her and the Lord.”

KK was wheezing. “You need help.”

You turned to her calmly. “Nah I need a girlfriend. Two different things.”

The reporter next to the stage was beet red now, trying not to laugh into their notes. “Okay, uh…next question—what was going through your mind during that final play?”

You crossed one leg over the other like this was Oprah. “I was thinking, if the world ended right then, we’d all go with it, so I might as well go out with a win. That’s real.”

Geno rubbed his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

You leaned into the mic again, like a closing statement. “Thank you. And please remember to feed athletes. We is hungry.”

The PR rep jumped in so fast her paper nearly flew off the table. “That’s it! Thanks so much, everyone!”

The moment y’all stepped backstage, Geno turned slowly.

“You know they record those, right?”

“Yeah Coach.”

“And they post them.”

“Mmhm.”

“You’re going to get us sued.”

You gave him your most sincere expression. “It’s okay. I got a lil savings.”

He looked like he aged ten years in five seconds.

Behind you, Aubrey shoved your shoulder, laughing. “Yo are you alright.”

You shrugged. “I’m just honest. And single. And hungry. Somebody gone address it.”

Just like that, you were back in the locker room, already hyping yourself up for post-game food and probably more chaos. Because filters are for water—not for you.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai

[mononijikayu]

thinking about how ryomen sukuna husband, marin the dog's dad, national athelete, pro-volleyball player is now stuck in this conundrum of a situation.

if he was being honest, he didn't even know how the national japanese team social media manager got him to do this. maybe it was because they bribed him with his favorite protein shake. maybe it was because they promised to stop bugging him.

but if he admit that they were the things that got him, it would be a lie. no, it was all the hd pictures of you from all the previous games these past season.

he didn't know they had existed since now. but because they had them, he had to get it. he had to get those really pretty pictures of you and keep it for only him.

ryomen sukuna was already regretting saying yes to the lie detector segment. he’d done interviews before for everything and not once has he ever been nervous.

after games, in locker rooms, on buses that smelled like sweat and glory. even when he was exhausted and ragged in the bones and just wanted to go home and sleep hugging you, he'd do it. even if it was a hassle.

but this situation was different. he was terrified. why shouldn't he be terrified? this was a whole different thing and people just knew it. everything about this was not something he was used to.

this was wires, blinking lights, a host who smiled like he knew too much, and a chair that felt suspiciously like it belonged in an interrogation room.

still, he looked good and cool.

sleeves rolled just enough.

the usual cocky slouch.

he had to fake it till he made it.

“all set?” the the social media manager asked, grinning.

sukuna shrugged. “unless this thing shocks me when i lie, yeah.”

they started easy. and he liked that. is your hair naturally pink? no. (duh.) do you think you’re the best player on the national team? yes. (double duh.)

each answer got a soft, obedient beep. truth. he was cruising. smooth. untouchable. until the host pulled a new card. this one looked different. evil, even. ryomen sukuna could sense it. he could feel it in his bones.

“sukuna-san, here's your next question.” the social media manager said slowly, way too pleased with himself, “is it true that when you were newly eighteen, you and your now-wife, [name]-san, had a pregnancy scare… and her dad almost murdered you for it?”

sukuna blinked. once. twice. “…i’m sorry. what?”

someone behind the camera snorted. sukuna’s eyes narrowed. and then, he heard it. he could feel his eye twitch all the sudden. your laugh. soft, familiar, and 100% guilty.

his jaw dropped. “oh my god. you’re here.”

you didn’t even try to deny it at all. i mean, this was the first time in a long while you'd gotten to be ridiculous. especially now that you've come back to work and had your hectic schedule again.

you always took the opportunity when it was offered. so, you sat somewhere off to the side and let yourself be silly. you laughed once again when you heard him curse.

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “you really sent that in? seriously?”

the host was trying very hard not to lose it.

“answer the question, sukuna-san!"

he sighed. long-suffering. dramatic.

“…fine. yeah. it’s true.”

beep. truth.

and just like that, the flashback hit him like a football to the face. it happend when you were teenagers, last year of high school. nothing even happened back then. it was just hanging out most of the time.

well, there was the occassional making out. but even when it went somewhere, you both stopped. and even when you wanted to, sukuna was the one to stop it all.

after all, he didn't want to ruin your future. you wanted to be an astrophysicist. you had a dream and he wanted you to focus on that. as much as he focused on volleyball.

so that day, it was all too different. and he could feel it in the air. you were on his massive bed, staring at your phone like it owed you an explanation.

sukuna walked in, unwrapping a sandwich, and you just… said it. “my love, i’m ten days late.”

he dropped the sandwich. “what do you mean, ten days late?”

“i mean what i said, my love. i'm late.” you said calmly, yawning in between. “ten. days. late. no period. no signs. my uterus is a cryptid.”

sukuna looked like he aged ten years on the spot. "w-what do you mean? w-we.... we didn't do anything just yet—"

"well i'm not sure!" you whispered to him. "i mean, when on my birthday, we both went and drank together quite a bit and—"

"yeah but i don't remember anything happening!" he says, choking as his red turned flushed. he stops and then his eyes go wide. "wait....i blacked out right?"

"yeah and maybe......" you hide your face in your hands, feeling like you were going to cry.

“okay. okay. don’t panic.” he said, immediately panicking. “we’ll go to a clinic. or a pharmacy. or maybe time travel. can we still time travel?”

you were surprisingly calm, at least from the standards usually had on pregnancy reactions. ryomen sukuna, on the other hand, looked like he was about to faint at the mere thought of diapers and daycare. but the worst part wasn’t the scare.

it was doing the impossible. it was telling your dad about everything. your ex-military, early-rising,suspicious-of-every-boy-on-earth dad, without him getting mad.

you told him while your poor unfortunate boyfriend was in the house. well, he thought that it was appropriate. even if he was shitting himself.

he was sitting politely in the living room with a mug of tea when you broke the news. your dad turned and just stared at sukuna. no yelling. no questions.

just pure, soul-piercing silence. for five whole minutes. ryomen sukuna sat frozen, gripping the mug like it was a grenade. it might be one of the worst days of his life.

you tried to ease the tension. “it’s probably just stress! we’re being responsible! we’re not even sure—”

your dad stood up. slowly. like an ancient god rising to smite. sukuna stood too. immediately. like his legs were possessed. your boyfriend, the former troublemaker and fist slammer, looked scared for the first time in his life.

“s-sir, respectfully, we're not....we're not even sure.” he blurted, voice cracking, “but i can swear to you that i respect your daughter. i-i swear....i'm going to take responsibility."

you covered your face all througout. ryomen sukuna, like years before, started mumbling about how from the very beginning, he's willing to stand up for you and be a father if you were pregnant. it was quite a thing.

in the end, you had nothing to worry about. after you took multiple tests, you were not pregnant. and a few days later, sukuna remembered what happened (likely out of fear of your father) and told you that you did not in fact make love.

back in the studio, ryomen sukuna shook his head like he was still recovering. he sighed as he looked at you. you were smiling at him giving him a thumbs up.

“i had nightmares about that stare for months!” he said. “every time her dad looked at me when i came by the house, i thought he was imagining my funeral arrangements.”

you laughed again off-camera, totally unapologetic. you were really lucky you were cute. he really couldn't get mad. not at you. not even once. he purses his lips.

“and the kicker?” sukuna said, leaning forward with a dry laugh. “she wasn’t even pregnant! just exam week stress. i almost died for nothing.”

he pointed toward where you were standing. “you’re evil.”

beep. truth.

a little while later, ryomen sukuna did get the hd pictures of you in a real big envelope. later, it was added to the pictures of you in his office. and all of that made him sigh, more fondly than ever before. life was good.

"i wonder what it would look like...." he mused to himself. "when we have kids too....."

"my love, dinner's ready!"

he smiles. "i'm coming!"

[dameronspector]

Challengers: Avengers Edition (Part 3)

Pairings: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Stark!Reader (Established Relationship); Bob Reynolds x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Sam decides to sue, Sam and Bucky are being angsty for no reason, Bob finally talks to Yelena and Bucky, you get invited to a gala and and Joaquin is a lil upset.

Warnings: Fuff, Banter, Angst, Cameos, Joaquin loves Reader a LOT, Joaquin being a cutie, Poor Bob suffers :(,CAUTION: Mentions of Bob’s Addiction, Drugs and Mental Illnesses, Graphic discussion of Bob's withdrawals from drugs and his past, the Void demeans Bob, I am NOT romanticizing pre!serum Bob. He is depicted to have an unhealthy/codependent attachment and that is NOT romantic. Valentina is a piece of shit, SO much Yearning and Longing from Bob, SamBucky are dads and cough best friends, Jealous!Joaquin, Jealous!Bob, Reader is oblivious as hell because she has eyes for Joaquin only, Reader is mentioned to have hair long enough to be let down loose, thats all i think! Let me know if i should add something else!

Also, sorry if the timeline is a lil confusing :(

AN: just watched Ironheart, you guys, PLS WATCH THE SHOW! its sooo good and riri my girl is just amazing! please support dominique! <3

"So...we're definitely suing."

Sam announced as he entered the living area, where all of you were lounging around.

Kamala and Kate were sitting on the bean bags, huddled over a laptop as they watched a show, Scott was scavenging in the pantry for something to eat, Carol had decided to busy herself with digging up some more dirt on Valentina, sitting at the dining table, while Joaquin laid his head on your lap, your soft hand buried in his curls, other hand holding a book. His eyes were closed, hands folded on his chest, light snores leaving his mouth.

All of you, minus Joaquin, looked up in shock.

"What...do you mean?", you asked nervously.

Sam rubbed his eyes.

"Well, they're not ready to expose her themselves. He said their hands are under a rock and that they really cannot do anythin'."

You bit your tongue to avoid blurting out that you and Joaquin knew this already.

"What's next?", Kate asked.

"We'll contact our lawyers right away. I'm not letting that woman think ahead of us for even a second. I've talked to Jennifer already, said she'll meet me tonight. Carol, you're comin' with me", he sighed.

Carol simply nodded her head.

"I feel like I'm getting a deja vu", Scott quipped with his mouth stuffed with Oreos.

"Did Mr. Stark and Steve fight like this, (Name)?", Kamala asked you in curiosity, side eyeing Sam nervously.

You looked at Sam who shook his head in dejection.

"Yes, but worse, because they wouldn't hear each other out", you answered her lowly. Sam sighed.

"Alright, It's nearing 6, so you", he pointed at Kamala, "need to get back, before your mom calls us all."

Kamala’s eyes widened before she pulled up Kate, and they left in a hurry, throwing a quick ‘Bye’ over their shoulders. Carol was staying back because she had to go meet Jennifer with Sam, while Scott left shortly as he had a date with Hope.

Now that the base was empty, you decided to finally have a talk with Sam.

You watched him walk around the sofa and join Carol at the dining table, discussing something with her. Dog-earing your book, you laid it on the couch next to you, gently lifting Joaquin’s head off your lap and putting a pillow under him. His eyebrows scrunched up a little before he curled on his side, crossing his arms sighing sleepily.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before standing up and approaching Sam.

“Guys?”

He turned around, frowning at the nervous look on your face, “Yeah?”

“Um-Carol, I’m so sorry, but I need to talk to Sam about something. Would you mind if I steal him for sometime?”, you requested her, not wanting to make her feel left out.

She smiled, “Yeah, of course. Please, go ahead. I need to read this file anyways.”

Sam and you walked over to his personal office, where he stared at you like he’d already read your mind.

“Spit it out, Stark”, he quipped, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You looked at him and covered your face with your hands.

“You’re gonna hate me”, you groaned.

“What?”, Sam stood up straight.

You removed your hands from your face and put them on your hips instead, chewing on the inside of your cheek before spilling everything.

“Uh-Joaquin and I went to the Tower yesterday.”

Sam paused, his eyes wide in disbelief, “You did what?”

“…yeah”, you grimaced.

And Sam spiralled, just a little, out of worry for you two, his eyes wide and face slack.

“Kid, I told y’all not to do this one thing, specifically. What goes on- why did ya’ll even go there? And did anybody see you? Hold on, did Valen-”

“Hey, relax. Nobody saw us, I promise, Sam. We went through the launch pad, so, no security or media people saw us. And no, Valentina wasn’t there either, so don’t worry”, you consoled him.

Sam rubbed a hand down his face, “That doesn’t make it any better, what if they use this against us? What if they’re all going to provoke Valentina against us? This changes everything about the case and now the two of you are caught in the between-”

“Sam-Sam!”, you called him out loudly, holding his flailing hands in yours to ground him.

“I know, we don’t know the team properly, but I swear, they all want Valentina to fall, just as much as we do.”

Sam frowned, “What?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what Bucky told you but he’s right, they’re all lost. She’s holding them hostage and manipulating the Bob guy, who was responsible for the whole black out thing”, you squeezed his hands earnestly.

“That’s…yeah, he did say that. What else do you know? You talked to all of ‘em?”, he murmured.

You released his hands and tugged your cardigan sleeves over your hands.

“Most of it was just her manipulating and threatening to expose them. She’d reintroduce all the omitted information from their files, that could turn them into convicted criminals again, if they disobeyed her.”

You swallowed thickly before continuing, “And this Bob guy…Sam, he’s got a heavy past. Drug addict along with a long history of mental illness. Which is why he’s been so unstable and she’s been using him as a weapon. That blackout thing? That was due to a depressive episode that Valentina forced onto him”, you solemnly relayed the information to Sam, who just frowned harder.

“Has she lost her damn mind? She should be put behind the bars for abetting someone, add the scammy stuff later”, he muttered in disbelief.

You pursed your lips, “I know. She’s a fucking leech.”

Sam furrowed his brows. He couldn’t believe this woman had the audacity to groom a mentally ill person to be an indestructible weapon and worsen their condition.

“And no, we didn’t get to talk to them properly, but they seemed pretty over it. Bucky said he’ll talk to them. Did he tell you anything about it?”

Sam snorted humourlessly, “It was just a whole lotta ‘I don’t know, man’, ‘I’m sorry, Sam’, ‘I can’t do anything except wait’”.

That tracks. He’d said the same to you.

“Yeah. He said the same to us. Honestly, you guys are worse than my dad and Steve”, you huffed.

“Excuse me?”, Sam quirked an eyebrow.

“At least those two fought and yelled at each other. You guys don’t even do that. It’s just endless pining and yearning”, you quipped, pretending to look at your nails.

Sam sputtered, “Wh-Wait. No. That’s not what’s happening-”

“Okay, okay, Cap. I got you”, you chuckled, choosing to go easy on the man. Sam glared at you, his face could radiate steam if it could, because he was positively flustered.

“Alright, listen. Here’s what we’re doing next. We have to get the team on our side first. Build the rapport and trust, and then, make them testify against Valentina. She’s holding them hostage anyways, so it’s not like we are lying about it”, you suggested.

Sam nodded solemnly, “Yeah. I was thinkin’ of meeting the rest but I dunno how, without raising a few eyebrows.”

You folded your arms across your chest, “Don’t worry about that. We’ll figure something out. Valentina loves the whole parade. She will probably arrange a gala or a party for the team so that all the big shots visit her.”

“You think she’ll invite us?”, he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m sure she will. She wants you to see all of this, rub it in our faces and all that crap. But before that happens, we need to file this case, Sam.”

He nodded, “Yeah, of course. Gonna insist Jennifer and might even meet up with Murdock. We need all hands on deck.”

“That’s good”, you nodded before perking up, “Would you mind, if I suggested you to meet up with her at a different place?”

Sam frowned, “I mean, no, but why?”

You chewed on your lip, “I don’t trust her. At all. If you’re gonna meet at a bustling place, she’s probably gonna keep an eye on you. You’d have to take a trip but, it’s important.”

“Yeah, okay, go on.”

“So, dad had this hide out kinda thing. In Virginia. It’s fully surveilled with high tech security, I’ll manage it myself and FRIDAY has access, too. It’s better if all the meetings related to this case take place there. I don’t want you, Jennifer or Carol risking your own assets or lives for this.”

“That makes sense, yeah. Sure”, Sam nodded.

“I’ll send a car to pick up Jennifer. You guys will be okay?”, you inquired.

“No no, we’re good. Virginia’s not that far from here and I know a route, so we’ll be fine. Thanks, kid”, Sam patted your shoulder, a soft smile tugging at lips because he couldn’t help but see your father in you. They had their differences, but Tony Stark was always the first in line to help his team.

You flashed him a sincere smile before turning serious again, glossy eyes looking up at him with so much trust.

“Sam, if there’s any two people, in this whole world who can get through this, it’s you and Buck. You’re not like my dad or Steve. What you have is special. You’re each other’s family. It doesn’t matter that you’re the leaders of two different teams, the two of you will always, always find a way. Please remember that. We need you two to come together for this. And it will happen if you guys just..talk.”

Sam tilted his head, eyes shining with longing and something else.

“I asked Bucky the same, and now I’m asking you the same thing. Promise me, that the two of you will fix this, together”, you croaked.

Sam looked at you for a moment before brushing his hand across your back soothingly, a wet smile spreading on his lips.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I promise.”

You exchanged sad smiles, bringing up a hand to wipe your eyes when there was a knock on the door to the office.

“Bet it’s your clingy boyfriend”, Sam teased.

You snorted, wiping your eyes on your sleeves before Sam walked over to the door, revealing a half awake Joaquin, his hair was mussed with sleep and plaid shirt wrinkled from the tossing and turning.

He looked so warm and cosy, it took everything in you to not tackle him in a hug.

“Good morning, sunshine”, Sam boomed, wrapping an arm around Joaquin’s shoulders and hiding you from his view.

You pursed your lips to stop yourself from laughing out loud.

“Hi….where’s-where’s (Name)”, his sleepy voice cracked as he spoke, a hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“She went back at her apartment, man. Said she’d let you sleep for sometime”, Sam teased further. He knew exactly how Joaquin would get clingy and snappy after he woke up and how he’d relax only if you were with him.

That seemed to have snapped him out of his sleep, his back suddenly straightened up in attention, a sad little pout tugging his lips down. As if someone stole his candy.

“Wait, she left? Without me? I was supposed to drop her home, bro. We were gonna go on a grocery run and I was gonna help her with dinner, and I—”

You giggled loudly, both of the men whipped their heads behind to look at you.

Sam in amusement, Joaquin in disbelief.

And then Joaquin grumbled, Sam shaking his shoulders while cackling.

“Oh man, you’re so whipped. I’m never letting you live that down, by the way. You should’ve seen your face!”, Sam wheezed, leaning against Joaquin, who was still grumbling, a whine leaving his mouth.

“Stop it. You guys are the worst”, he groaned loudly and rubbed his face with his hands. You pouted.

“Alright. Alright. I gotta go. You guys can stay if you wanna. It’s too late to go back, anyways. (Name), please look into picking up Jennifer, yeah?”, Sam instructed and squeezed Joaquin’s shoulders.

You nodded and Sam murmured a ‘Bye’ to Joaquin, before leaving.

Joaquin scrunched his nose before bee lining towards you, strong arms going around your waist and head buried in your neck. Letting a smile pull at your cheeks, you bring your arms around his back, smoothing your palms over the wide expanse, feeling his muscles move underneath them as your head leaned against his temple.

“Good nap?”, you asked quietly.

His warm breath hit your chest, soft curls tickling your jaw as he nodded in affirmation.

“Missed you though. Why’d you leave me alone”, you could practically hear the pout in his scratchy voice. You sighed.

“Sorry, baby bird. I needed to tell Sam about everything that happened yesterday.”

That got his attention, pulling back from your neck to look at you, arms still caging you in his embrace, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh, damn. How’d it go?”

You busied yourself with straightening his collar while filling him in.

“Well, Bucky called him. Said the same things he said to us. They must’ve had a disagreement because the first thing Sam said after the call, was that we’re definitely suing. So he’s gone to meet Jennifer Walters right now, with Carol. I decided to tell him everything before he found out from someone else.”

Joaquin’s eyes widened, “Please tell me he’s not grounding us.”

You huffed a laugh, rubbing his chest soothingly, “No, I handled it and told him that we had it in control.”

Joaquin breathed a sigh of relief, before you continued.

“So now we gotta wait till Valentina announces a gala or a party or something, which she will definitely do because-”,

“She’s an attention seeker”, Joaquin deadpanned, squeezing your waist, jaw clenched in annoyance.

You snorted, “Exactly. And she’ll definitely invite us, or Sam, at least. I’ve requested him to keep in contact with Bucky and sort out whatever they’ve got going on. We need all of them on our side, and to testify against that woman. Sam has agreed to all of this, thankfully.”

Joaquin smiled in relief.

“That’s good. You’re good. You’re so smart, baby”, he praised, brown eyes oozing with love and pride.

You blushed, ducking your head to avoid his intense eye contact, “Shut up.”

Joaquin laughed and pulled you closer, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, enveloping you in a warm hug, both of you unaware of the storm brewing back at the Tower.

-

Yesterday

Bucky and Yelena speed walked towards Bob’s room, the only place where he could be in their absence.

The conference had taken longer than expected, all of them were a cranky and tired mess by the second half. Now they just couldn’t even bear to see each other’s faces or talk to anybody.

But Yelena reminded him of Bob. The events that took place during the day, your arrival, Bucky’s emotional conversation with you and Joaquin, and Bob’s sudden attraction to you, and they immediately got to work, leaving behind the other three to quickly check on the golden boy, who was still in his room, they assumed.

They exchanged a worried look before Yelena opened the door carefully, making sure to make minimal noise so as to not freak the boy out.

The room was dark. The only light that came in, was the moonlight, coating the room in a dark blue hue, highlighting a large lump on the bed, curled up in a fetal position.

For a second, they worried that the Void was out again, both of their hearts thundering against their ribs. Bucky slowly made his way towards the side table, flicking on the lamp that perched on it.

The lamp coated the room in a golden glow, finally shedding some light on the large form resting atop the bed—Bob. Just Bob. No jet black shadow covering him.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Yelena rounded the corner and sat on the opposite side, observing Bob’s sleeping face closely.

“Just asleep”, Yelena murmured, making Bucky unclench his fists.

“Should we wake him up?”, he rasped.

Yelena thought about it for a moment, before nodding hesitantly.

“Yeah. It’s been a while since we left, anyway. If we don’t talk now, we’re gonna keep delaying it and he’ll keep avoiding it.”

Bucky pursed his lips before nodding in approval, letting her do the job of waking Bob up.

Yelena gently placed her hand on his shoulder, shaking him carefully like she was handling a bomb waiting to go off.

“Bob? Wake up, c’mon”, she shook his arm.

A breath left his nose, eyebrows twitching before he suddenly jerked, eyes whipping open in a sudden manner.

Yelena jumped, raising her hands in a surrender manner, Bucky made himself more visible to Bob so as to not scare him further.

“It’s okay, it’s just us. Yelena and Bucky. You’re okay”, Yelena’s raspy voice soothed him.

Bob blinked a few times before sitting up, hands rubbing his eyes to clear his vision of the bleariness. He swallowed thickly, trying to forget the very realistic memory he’d had of you, before clearing his throat.

“H-hey guys. You’re back. That’s..that’s nice. What’s the time?”

“It’s past 9pm, kid. Did you have dinner?”, Bucky asked softly, his voice coated in concern.

Bob furrowed his brows, “9 pm? Damn, I-I don’t know when I dozed off…and no, I didn’t have dinner yet”, he sheepishly admitted, hands playing with the edges of his sleeve.

Honestly, he was still out of it. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, half expecting to have an episode but surprisingly his body had fallen into a slumber.

“That’s okay. We’ll order somethin’ for you”, Yelena offered, exchanging a look with Bucky, who was already ordering some burgers and fries for Bob, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Oh. That’s nice of you. Thank you”, Bob gave them one of his crooked smiles, one that was teetering between a frown and a smile.

Yelena gave him a tight lipped smile before deciding to ask away.

“Bob, we need to talk.”

He tensed up, eyebrows shooting up in fear, a few strands of brown curls framing his eyes, “Wait, what-what did I do? Did the-did the other guy show up again? I’m sorry, it’s just, not been a good day and I-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax. It’s nothing like that”, Bucky placated, a hand held out to stop Bob’s ramblings.

Bob’s mouth fell open in disbelief, glassy eyes switching between the two figures in front of him.

“So-what is it..?”, he asked hesitantly.

Yelena gave him a sympathetic look, deciding to ask him directly in that straight forward way she does, “Bob…what happened with (Name)? Why were you acting so…weird?”

Bob froze. Blood rushed to his ears as everything came running back to him. Your face. Your voice. His sudden possessiveness. His jealousy towards Joaquin.

You and Joaquin together.

Bob clenched his jaw, leaning away from Yelena and averting his gaze from both of the assassins in shame and anger—towards himself and towards the situation.

“Nothing”, he simply murmured, closing his eyes tightly to get rid of the voices and images of Joaquin’s hands on you.

Yelena frowned, Bucky shook his head.

“It’s not nothing. You were practically staring holes into Joaquin, I saw your eyes glow golden as well. You looked at her like-like she’s some kinda ghost. Or a god. And you’ve been asleep for what? Almost 8-9 hours? Don’t lie, kid”, Bucky conceded firmly, his voice taking the shape of a tired and worried father.

At hearing Joaquin’s name, Bob’s jaw clenched tighter, somehow. That same green monster clawing his way up his throat.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like he wasn’t being a dick to me”, he scoffed, looking at Bucky incredulously, a strange attitude overtaking him.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow while Yelena’s mouth fell open.

“This! You’re being aggressive, again! What’s with this attitude, Reynolds?”, she cried out, folding her hands across her chest.

Bob narrowed his eyes, those golden tendrils shimmering behind his irises again, “So I shouldn’t defend myself when someone’s being an asshole to me?”

Her eyes widened, looking at Bucky for help, who just scoffed in disbelief.

“Not when you’re ogling said person’s girlfriend like he wasn’t standing in front of you. Not when you’re poking at him for simply standing next to his girlfriend, Bob.”

That struck Bob straight, wincing as if the jab had hit him directly in the chest, shrinking into his skin once again, blue eyes focused onto his fingers picking the skin around his nails in nervousness.

He knew he was acting strange. He knew he was provoking Joaquin for no reason. And he knew he had no right to feel so possessive over you. All of it was wrong and shameful.

But he just couldn’t help it.

Not when you were no less than a god, as Bucky had mentioned, to him.

As damaged as he was, he had feelings too. Real, raw, human feelings.

“S-sorry. I just…I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry. Really sorry”, he whispered with his eyes shut tightly, making him see stars behind his lids as his hands kept picking at each other.

“See? You’ve once again managed to ruin everything….”

That voice was back again. Bob shook his head in denial.

Concerned, Yelena put her hands on his fidgeting ones, separating them before holding them tightly to ground him.

“It’s okay, Bob. We want to help you. But we can’t if you don’t tell us what’s happening. Is there something you’d like to share?”, she gently prodded, bending slightly to look at him.

He still wouldn’t meet her eyes, lips quivering with the sob he was holding in.

Bucky sighed sadly, “Bob…do you like (Name)? If that’s the case, then, I’m sorry to tell you but, she’s already-”

A few tears escaped Bob’s eyes, face scrunched up in pain before he decided to correct Bucky, unable to hold it in any longer.

"You don't get it", he whispered, cutting off Bucky, who paused.

"What do you mean?", Yelena asked from his right, a hand coming up to rest on his shoulder.

They were going to find out someday. It’s not like he wasn’t obvious or anything.

“…I love her”, he finally answered, his voice a weak and tired variant of itself.

The room was suddenly too quiet. Bob swore he could hear the rustle of the mattress and the traffic below. Bucky's mouth hung open as he stared at Bob blankly and Yelena decided to break the silence by blurting out, "What?"

Bob winced again, removing his hands from Yelena's grip.

"That's-you don't even know her, Bob. You just met her. That's not possible", Bucky reasoned, a frown tugging at his already stressed face, the lines next to his eyes more prominent due to the low light in the room.

Bob's jaw ticked, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth as he mulled over Bucky's words. Even though he was right, he didn't know how you were an anchor for Bob. How he'd decided to get his shit together after learning about you. How Angela would convince him to get better by talking about you and your philanthropy. How he'd seen all of your speeches and talks on his friend's borrowed computer and on Angela's TV, who purposefully set it to your interviews when he would stumble into her shop.

Did he know you personally? No.

Had you changed his life? Yeah. In more than one way.

When he had nobody who stuck around in his life, your face and voice was a constant. You were The (Name) Stark, with a face as radiant as the sun, who was incredibly resilient and courageous and with a heart made of gold, and yeah, you didn't even deserve someone like him. But he was sure that if he ever tried to talk to you, just as a friend, you'd never disappoint him like the others did. The others who left him when it got tougher.

Maybe he was being parasocial. But how would he know the answers to his questions, if nobody gave him a chance to even talk to you? Even a 'thank you' would suffice, he thought. But he couldn't deny the pull he felt towards you any longer. Even being in your orbit was nothing short of an honor for him.

"You don't get it, Bucky. She's-she's saved me. When I had no one, I had her voice to keep me grounded. Even before reaching the lab, I had borrowed a phone, from someone. I used to listen to her speeches every day. On repeat. I'd throw it aside when the withdrawals would start. But I'd feel this...this hole in my chest, craving her voice just as badly as the drugs. And sometimes...sometimes I'd cry my eyes out while I withered on the ground. But my earphones would always play her voice", Bob's voice cracked as he confessed.

Bucky and Yelena were stunned into silence.

The fact that Bob was aware of you before coming here. And unknowingly, you'd played a vital part in his life and where he was today, was so shocking that Bucky stared at Bob's tearful face dumbly while Yelena felt her own eyes water, head turned towards the side to hide her tears.

"I told myself, if I get to meet her, I'm thanking her. For just…being there, even if she wasn’t there physically. For her speeches and work. But...when I saw her, in person today...I realised that...it wasn't just a stupid crush or-or some weird codependent attachment. Her entire energy, the way she holds herself, it's so powerful. I-I haven't been with someone in a long time", he scoffed humourlessly, "Not that anybody wanted a fuckin' mess like me. But, maybe that's why I sort of, fell hard for her. She's been the only constant in my life for the past 5 years."

Bob wiped his tears with his sleeves, nose tinged red and eyes swollen.

"That's why I was also being an asshole to...to Joaquin. The whole 'I know her longer than he does' shit. Even though, as Bucky said, I don't know her, technically", he croaked shamefully, red dusting his cheeks.

Yelena sniffled and Bucky opened and closed his mouth like a fish, unable to take in all of this.

It was a lot. He's getting too old for a love triangle in his own family. And his heart also breaks for Bob. If you and Joaquin weren't, quite literally, each other's soulmates, then maybe it would've worked out. You'd get along with Bob just fine.

But that wasn't the case, and now there were two separate teams as well, so Bucky wasn't sure how to handle this without further breaking Bob's heart.

Because Bucky was sure that Joaquin, being as stubborn and steadfast he was, was absolutely not going to let Bob try anything. Let alone talk to you. Especially not after the intense show down between the two men. Bucky almost groaned at the fact that this was just going to worsen the situation between the teams even more.

Letting out a big sigh, he sat down in front of Bob, elbows braced against his knees as he carefully chose his words.

"Look, Bob...I understand. You knowingly or unknowingly imprinted on her, and you were so used to being the only one who listened to her, that you feel a little disoriented now that your bubble is burst. I get that. But...", he sighed again, "Kid, it's just, not gonna be easy, I'm not gonna lie to you. At least, not as peacefully as you're hoping for it to go. Joaquin is...he's very protective of her and vice versa. And they're literally made for each other."

Bob clenched his jaw harder, the lump in his throat making it harder to swallow. Why was Bucky cutting a deeper wound into his already broken heart?

"So, whatever you do, don't go around picking a fight with him unnecessarily. We're already in a sensitive situation, yeah?", Bucky softly added, trying to be as gentle as he could be.

Bob's vision blurred with tears before he nodded tersely, bringing a hand up to wipe at his eyes and push back his curls.

"Bob", Yelena's scratchy voice brought his attention back to her. He looked up at her hesitantly. Her eyes were bloodshot.

"We know this will be difficult for you. Maybe in ways that is beyond our understanding. But, please, for your sake, talk to me or Bucky next time. Or...maybe we can start your therapy sessions soon? If that's okay with you?", she offered carefully, eyes trained on his every move.

Bob bit his lip, mulling over her words. Therapy didn't sound that bad, honestly. At least, he'd use all the free time to work on himself instead of withering away.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. I-I can go to therapy", he admitted, nodding in agreement.

Yelena let out a sigh of relief and Bucky gave him a rare, kind smile, one that Bob had only ever seen on the super soldier's face when he was with you.

The thought almost made him smile. You had a way around making people comfortable.

"I'll talk to my therapist. She might recommend someone fit for you. You can take a trial session and the rest is your decision. That okay?", Bucky suggested.

"Yes. That's okay. Thanks, guys", Bob finally gave them a weak smile, cheeks glistening with tear tracks under the yellow light of the lamp.

Maybe, Bob could get over this. And he prayed he wouldn't see you anytime sooner, either.

-

Minutes after he'd finished his meal, Valentina had called for an emergency meeting. At 11 pm.

Why? Because that attention seeker had decided that she wanted to throw a Gala for the team. 'For the team' was just an excuse, she just wanted to show off. Show off her wealth, show off her so called team and her nonexistent efforts and how she's the new 'saviour' of the American people.

It was all a load of crap, honestly.

But she wanted to host a Gala and she was going to host it by the end of this week. And guess whom she wanted needed to attend this gala?

Sam Wilson. And you.

"We're not doing this", Bucky seethed, fists clenched tightly in anger. He still hadn't talked to Sam, like he'd promised you. And now, Valentina wanted to do this?

He couldn't imagine how betrayed Sam would feel, if he found out that Bucky had purposefully kept information from him. As if he wasn't on thin fucking ice already.

Valentina smirked, "Listen up, Barnes. I don't remember asking for your permission. It's my money. My team. I can do whatever the hell I want to."

Bucky clenched his jaw, the rest of the team glared at Valentina, except Bob, who had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Anyways, there's gonna be investors, shareholders, some of the richest people in attendance, including a real Captain America and our resident billionaire Stark heir. You guys better behave and keep up my reputation, hm?", she announced absently while flicking through her Ipad, Mel looking at her in confusion.

John scowled at the Captain America jab, Alexei's eyes kept jumping between Bucky's tensed body and Valentina's unbothered one like he was at a tennis match, Ava and Yelena exchanged glances before Yelena looked at Bob, who was restlessly moving around in his seat, itching to correct Valentina on her comment on you.

Yelena grabbed his arm firmly, tersely shaking her head 'no'. Bob bit the inside of his cheek to keep quiet.

"And oh, don't you dare invite them on my behalf, Bucky. We will be drafting a sweet and sophisticated invite, okay?", she gave him a sickly sweet smile. Bucky sneered.

"I'm not listenin' to-"

"You want me to release that footage from 10 years ago? Where you almost killed your best friend, who was also Captain America, on that helicarrier?", she narrowed her eyes.

Bucky froze, his vibranium arm whirring from how tightly he was clenching his fists, a mist covering his eyes.

Valentina smiled in victory.

"That's what I thought. Anyways! We'll keep you updated on the group chat. You'll get a phone soon, Robert, do stay active on the chat. Don't miss any texts and we'll have stylists over to give you all a makeover. I don't trust you all to turn up decently", she grimaced.

John yawned while Alexei was already napping on the desk, burly body leaned over his arms entirely, snores leaving his mouth. Valentina rolled her eyes at this.

"Yeah, fine, Jesus. You're dismissed", she waved them off, walking out of the room with Mel in tow.

"It would take one swipe. That's all. Then she'll be gone", Ava casually mentioned.

"Count me in on that. Anyways, I'm heading to bed. I don't have the energy for this", John announced before yawning loudly, trudging away to his room.

Bucky, Yelena and Bob didn't move from their spots, at all. A strange silence and tension seizing their body as they exchanged worrying looks.

Ava noticed, quirking an eyebrow, "What's going on with the three of you?"

Bucky cleared his throat, "Nothin'. Just...fed up with her", he referred to Valentina.

"Yeah, I mean, I don't really like social interactions, so", Bob laughed nervously.

Yelena simply hummed in thought. Ava narrowed her eyes in doubt.

"Uh- I'm going to sleep. Yep. I'm really tired. Yelena, you should wake up Alexei", Bucky coughed, quickly making his way outside, Bob following closely, while Yelena shook Alexei awake and walked out of the room hastily, leaving behind a perplexed Ava, who was not going to live peacefully until she finds out what's up with these three.

So, basically, Bob was not getting over this anytime soon.

Because you would definitely attend the event. And you'd be with The Captain America this time. Just the thought of being around you, dressed in fancy clothes, with the Cap next to you, was enough to make him hyperventilate.

All he could do was pray for a miracle. And that he didn't have one of his extremely high episodes.

But, god, he'd lying if he said that he wasn't excited to see you again.

-

It was the weekend, Sam had surprisingly decided to take a day off, you and Joaquin joining him for lunch at a staple restaurant, catching up with the recruitment process and other life updates over some pasta and drinks.

Sam, was currently telling you all about Riri Williams and her suits, how she'd worked under Princess Shuri and how she just needed some exposure to update her suit.

"I'd love to meet her", you admitted while taking a sip of your cola. The fact that she had benefitted from your dad's grant at MIT and hearing about her potential and intelligence was enough to encourage you to meet her.

Sam gave you a smile, exchanging a look with Joaquin, who was sitting on your right with his shoulder nudging you every now and then.

"I knew you'd say that. Great, I'll ask her to-", he cut himself off as your phones went off at the same time with a text notification.

Furrowing your brows, you looked down at your screen, an unknown number flashed on top of the chat bubble. Joaquin spared a glance at you phone before leaning over to look at Sam's.

"Wait. Is that the same number?", he murmured, cross checking once more.

Frowning, you opened the message and read it out loud for the two of them:

Valentina Allegra De Fontaine and OXE Group invites you for a Gala night to celebrate the New Avengers! Saturday, 7:00 pm, The Watchtower, Manhattan, New York Dress code: Formal PS: Please do not carry any suits or weapons. Invitation limited to you and Sam, exclusively. - Mel Vishwanathan, Secretary to Miss De Fontaine.

"Holy shit", Joaquin cursed.

"Did you get the same text?", you foolishly asked Sam. Sam quickly opened the message and sighed.

"Yep. Copy and paste."

You scoffed, "Knew this was gonna happen. She's too smart for her own good", fiddling with your phone for a moment, furiously typing away.

"How do we know this isn't a trap?", Joaquin asked in curiosity.

You turned your phone to show it to him, "Because it's up on LinkedIn. This is basically an investment and sponsorship event, alright."

Joaquin read the post, which had over 130k likes already, his eyebrows raised in surprise before he passed it to Sam, who whistled lowly.

"Damn. Look at all these people glazin' her up. There's gonna be media and shit too, it'll be a pain in the ass. We'll never get to talk to any of 'em", he shook his head.

You pursed your lips in thought, "Maybe. Not if we separate, though. You take three, I'll take three", you continued before he cut you off, "And you're taking Bucky. I don't care how, but the two of you are talking. That's it."

Sam narrowed his eyes, "You bossin' me around, Stark?"

"That's right, Wilson. This is the only way how a Stark and Captain America team up can work out, remember?", you teased him.

The two of you stared each other down before erupting in giggles.

"Alright, alright, I will. But the moment he's being immature, I'm callin' you in", he proposes.

"I got you, I promise. But he loves you too much to brood for longer, Sammy", you gave him a knowing smile. Sam coughed to hide his.

Next to you, Joaquin was way too quiet. Silently observing the entire conversation with a distant look in his eyes. You quieted down, nudging him to get his attention.

"You good, babe?", your voice took on a soft lilt that it did, whenever you talked to Joaquin. Sam watched him closely.

"Yeah. Just, I'm not invited", Joaquin muttered with thinly veiled irritation, his brows creased, brown eyes looking like pitiful pools of honey as he looked at you knowingly.

You paused, a flash clip of the events that transpired at the Tower playing in your mind, causing you to close your eyes in realisation.

Of course he was apprehensive about this. This meant you'd be around Bob again, and you'd be alone this time, since Sam would be busy with the task at hand.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "I didn't know you wanted to attend Valentina's gala so bad, Joaquin", he joked lightly. He observed your tensed body and Joaquin's clenched jaw, neither of you responding to his joke and that's when he knew there was more to it.

"Okay, one of you better tell me what's goin' on? I feel like I missed a few chapters?", he asked with narrowed eyes.

You glanced at Joaquin, who was still brooding, before letting out a sigh, "Well. Y'know, the Bob guy in their team?"

Sam furrowed his brows in confusion, "Blackout guy? Yeah, Why?"

Joaquin let out a humourless chuckle, "Yeah, he has a damn crush on my girlfriend. That's what happened."

"Joaquin..", you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Oh, and, he was trying to challenge me or some shit, bro. His eyes were all golden and stuff, as if I was being a hindrance for touching my girlfriend, like, have some class, Jesus", he seethed, getting worked up again.

"And you know what, Sam? He was lookin' at her like I do. Fuckin' stars in his eyes and shit. I can't-"

"Okay, okay. Relax, bird boy. Drink some water", Sam cut him off, an amused smile on his face.

Joaquin almost pouted, leaning back into the seat like a grumpy toddler. You pursed your lips. This was going to be really difficult.

"Guys, c'mon, it can't be that serious. We're not in high school! It's just stupid crush, I bet. And Joaquin, you can stop pouting, it's not exactly her fault that she's a star!", Sam laughed, trying to reason with him. You gave a wary smile at his joke before turning serious again.

"I truly hope it's just a crush. It's going to be a mess to deal with, otherwise..."

Sam gave you a close lipped smile, "Nothing's gonna happen. We'll figure somethin' out if it escalates, yeah?"

"Not before I handle him myself", Joaquin grumbled his breath.

Your eyes widened and you whipped your head around, "Jay, what the hell?"

Sam scoffed, "Easy, tiger. No need to go guns ablazin'. Unless you want another timeout", he warned Joaquin, arms folded across his chest, like a father scolding his son.

That sobered him up. Joaquin sat up straight, glancing at you and Sam briefly, feet scuffing against the floor in embarassment.

"Okay. I'm sorry", he murmured in shame, turning to the side to press a kiss to your shoulder, a soft "'M sorry, baby", spoken into the fabric of your shirt.

You softened up, rubbing a hand down his back. A smile tugged at Sam's lips.

"We'll put you in our comms so that you don't freak out, okay?", Sam suggested. Joaquin nodded in agreement, a hand coming up to rest on your thigh, free hand absently twirling the pasta around his fork.

"Alright, we should inform the team as well. And...maybe I'll call Buck. Let him know beforehand about our plan. That okay?", he asked you.

"Yeah, sounds good. I'll gather some discreet comms that'll stay concealed", you agreed.

"Good", he lowered his voice before continuing, "Also, Shulkie has suggested not to tell them about the entire case just yet. Just to request them to testify. If they ask anything further, we've to ask them to meet personally."

Shulkie was a code name for Jennifer Walters in public, you'd decided.

"Yep, got it, Cap", you affirmed.

"Alright, I need to bounce. I have a meeting with Leila. You guys will be okay?", he glanced at Joaquin, before looking at you knowingly.

Joaquin and you gave him close lipped smiles, Sam taking his leave before clearing the tab. He always treated you two like you were kids on a summer vacation.

You stared at Joaquin's sulking face, hyperfocused on his plate. He did look cute when he was jealous.

"Stop lookin' at me", he grumbled, the natural light filtering through the window making his skin glow, his curls were loose today, falling in ringlets on his forehead and his arms flexed in that gray t shirt he was wearing.

Although his pouting made him look like a chipmunk who had stuffed too many nuts into his cheeks. The thought made you giggle. His nose scrunched up in embarassment.

"Whaaaat, babe, stop", he whined, closing his eyes.

You wordlessly shifted closer, a hand cradling his chin, lips pressed to his cheek lovingly and free arm slinked around his neck.

"You're too cute when you're jealous", you mumbled into his skin and he finally hugged you back, leaning his head into your touch.

He hummed, "I love you, you know that right?", his lips moved against your hair as he spoke.

"Yeah. I know", you reassured, rubbing his shoulder gently, a frown tugging at your lips as you tried your best to hide the sense of dread filling your stomach at the thought of going to the Tower again.

-

Part 4

AN: please let me know if it's still making sense and like and reblog!❤️

taglist: @hearts4barnes @msfirth @spideybrie @parkersjoy @joaquinsgf @wolflikesstuff @frvv @99buttowski @eggyboyoart @superchatnoir07 @wierdlyinlike @peachyrue-777 @makinurbed @abc1234y @ba-space-geek @elyi-o @ph-1isagod @missbrekker @patheticgirl127 @lookitsgrim @spinstertheuncommon @bcystar @yelenaseyeliner @dormammuiivecometo @justeveeeee @lilajoy-ily @spvctor @magikdarkholme @babyreads @paintballkid711 @urfavestan @wyvernthekriger @monselxo @hoe-in-theory-not-practice @sunflower-0180 @marispunk @sadslasher13 @melaninqueen04

Sorry if I forgot anyone or reply if u wanna be removed from/added to the taglist!

[heartsiebyul]

hello! Could I request for scarabia + riddle with a very paranoid reader? Thank you!!

╰─▸ ❝ Twisted Wonderland x reader!

featuring — Riddle : Kalim : Jamil.

✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧

☛ Riddle Rosehearts

You had checked your bag five times before class. Books, notebook, wand, everything was there. Still, you sat stiffly, tapping your pen as your mind raced. “What if I forgot something? What if I messed up the homework? What if someone’s mad at me?” you whispered, voice tense. Riddle, seated next to you, glanced over with a frown. “You’ve done everything right,” he said firmly. “You’re worrying over nothing.”

At first, Riddle didn’t understand your constant paranoia. But over time, he noticed the signs, how your hands shook when you thought someone was watching, or how you triple-checked your door every night. He started making sure everything was in order for you, double-checking his own notes just to ease your mind. “If it’ll help,” he’d say, “I’ll walk you through the checklist.”

One evening, when you were panicking over possibly upsetting a professor, Riddle sat beside you and gently took your hand. “You don’t have to think about everything at once,” he said. “Let me help carry some of the worry.” His words were quiet, but his presence grounding. With Riddle, you didn’t feel silly for being anxious, you just felt safe.

☛ Kalim Al-Asim

You were biting your nails again, eyes wide as you looked around the hallway. “Kalim… did I say something wrong back there? What if I offended them? What if they hate me now?” Kalim blinked, then smiled brightly and threw his arm around your shoulders. “Nah! You were super nice! They probably loved talking to you!”

Kalim didn’t always understand your worries, but he always tried to make you feel better. If you were scared of something going wrong, he’d help you go through everything step by step. If you needed to check something twice, he’d do it with you, humming the whole time. “You don’t need to be scared,” he’d say. “If something bad happens, we’ll fix it together!”

One night, when you were too anxious to sleep, Kalim brought you a blanket and a warm milk. “Let’s just chill and look at the stars, okay?” he said, pulling you close. “I’ll stay with you until you feel better.” With Kalim, your fears didn’t feel so heavy, he made the world seem a little kinder.

☛ Jamil Viper

“Did you lock the door?” you asked Jamil for the third time that evening, eyes wide with worry. “What if someone breaks in? Or if I left something out and it explodes?” Jamil sighed, calmly setting his book down. “Yes. I locked it. I triple-checked everything already, for you.”

Jamil noticed how you always thought something bad might happen. You’d worry about every little thing, spells going wrong, people hating you, disasters that never came. He didn’t tease you for it. Instead, he stepped in quietly, helping behind the scenes. “You overthink a lot,” he said once, brushing your hair back. “But it’s okay. I’m used to keeping things under control.”

He never said much when you panicked. He just stayed close, his steady voice grounding you. “Breathe. I’ve got you,” he’d say, holding you when you needed it most. Jamil didn’t try to “fix” your fears, he just made sure you didn’t face them alone.

✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧

erm, I think I did the req wrong, I feel like this is "overthinking" than being "paranoid" I'm sorry 😭😭😭

[magnagaruzenmon]

Takedown

Sorry for the late drop Dio has been going through it this week and is operating at 1/10 his normal self, and Dino is still working on his novel so this took a bit longer to make, needless to say we all loved the movie though.

Yes this is unironically a reference.

“Huntrix Girls to World!” The chorus blasted through Theseus’s earbuds just as his flight touched down in South Korea — the final stop of his world tour. He glanced at his two handlers seated beside him.

“I still don’t know about this,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Megara grinned. “Relax. It’ll be fine.”

Dino clapped him on the shoulder. “Think of it as a vacation. No demons. No rival hunters. Just good vibes, good music, and us.”

The trio stood, throwing on jackets. Theseus pulled up his hood low over his face as they made their way through the bustling airport. Despite the late hour, the place was packed. A plane at the next terminal had just arrived, drawing a massive crowd — the pride of South Korea had returned.

TWICE.

After their record-breaking 4th World Tour, the queens were finally home for some rest. But as fate would have it, both groups converged at the same baggage claim.

Theseus was adjusting his bag strap when he looked up — and locked eyes with her.

Jihyo.

Leader. Idol. National treasure. And, according to the files, high-ranking hunter.

He froze.

Unsure what else to do, he gave a stiff little wave.

Jihyo, effortlessly radiant, smiled and waved back. Then, casually, like they were old friends, she walked straight over to him.

“Hi,” she said, voice warm and confident.

Theseus blinked. “Uh… hi back.”

Jihyo laughed, folding her arms. “Not much of a talker, huh?”

“Not particularly,” he admitted. “But I can try. Hi, Jihyo-noona.”

“Ooh, polite and respectful? You’re not bad for a foreigner,” she teased. “But just call me Jihyo.”

“You’re basically royalty here. Felt like I should at least try to act right.”

She smiled. Then leaned in, her voice suddenly low, sweet, and dangerous.

“Being polite won’t save you, demon. I’m still going to kill you.”

Theseus stiffened, blood turning to ice. He instinctively took a step back. She followed.

“I’ll find you,” she whispered. “And gut you.”

Theseus blinked, trying to keep cool. “Uh… no Inglés?” he muttered before grabbing his bag and sprinting toward the exit.

Jihyo laughed, watching him flee. Moments later, Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung joined her.

“Unnie,” Chaeyoung said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “can you not scare the demons right away? You always spook them before we get a chance.”

Jihyo grinned. “Please. Where can he hide? This is our turf.”

Jeongyeon crossed her arms. “Yeah, but maybe next time don’t warn the prey?”

Just as the three prepared to give chase, a tidal wave of fans swarmed the girls with cameras flashing, squeals rising like sirens. The distraction gave Theseus just enough cover to slip into the crowd — and vanish.

The crowd was still buzzing around them, fans shrieking, camera flashes going off like fireworks. TWICE had barely taken ten steps before security finally formed a protective barrier. The three girls regrouped near a corner by the baggage carousels, just out of reach.

Jeongyeon didn’t wait.

“You let him go,” she said, her voice low and sharp.

Jihyo rolled her eyes. “He ran.”

Chaeyoung jabbed a finger toward her. “Because you told him you were gonna gut him!”

“That’s called psychological warfare.”

“It’s called stupid,” Jeongyeon snapped. “We had a clear shot. No cover, no fans, no bodyguards. He was right there.”

Jihyo put her hands up, smirking. “Okay, okay, maybe I got a little carried away.”

“A little?” Chaeyoung’s hands were on her hips now. “You scared him off like a feral cat. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Jihyo said slowly, “that it’s more fun when they run.”

That stopped both of them for a moment.

Jeongyeon groaned. “You and your hunter’s ego.”

Jihyo smiled. “What? It’s been boring lately. He looked interesting. Strong aura, too. Definitely not some low-tier demonic intern.”

“Still,” Chaeyoung said, sighing, “we’ve got a job. You can flirt after we neutralize the threat.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” Jihyo said too quickly.

Both of them stared at her.

Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow. “You told him you’d gut him with a smile. That’s your exact flirting face.”

Jihyo folded her arms, letting out a breath. “Fine. Maybe I wanted to see what he’d do under pressure.”

“He ran.”

“Exactly. That tells me a lot.”

Jeongyeon pinched the bridge of her nose. “Unbelievable. You’ve been listening to Sana again, haven’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Chaeyoung crossed her arms. “Well, next time? Just stab first. Banter after. We’re supposed to be discreet, remember?”

“Sure, sure,” Jihyo said, waving them off. “Next time, I’ll be the picture of restraint.”

“You’re never the picture of restraint,” Jeongyeon muttered.

Chaeyoung looked back at the crowd. “Think he’s still in the terminal?”

Jihyo’s smirk returned. “Doesn’t matter. I tagged him.”

They both turned toward her.

“You what?”

“Just a little sigil on his bag. We’ll know where he’s staying within the hour.”

Jeongyeon stared. “So… you planned to let him go?”

“Not exactly,” Jihyo said, already turning toward the exit with that same dangerous gleam in her eyes. “But I figured… let the demon sweat a little. Let him think he got away.”

Chaeyoung shook her head in disbelief. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the leader.” She grinned. “And he just became my next obsession.”

Theseus arrived at the hotel with Megara and Dino 45 minutes later. Check-in was uneventful — quiet, efficient, almost suspiciously normal.

While Megara handled logistics with a call to the radio station they’d be guesting on tomorrow, Theseus retreated to the bathroom, craving the rinse of hot water and solitude.

Steam rose around him as the shower ran, washing away the stiffness of the flight — but not the ghost of her.

Jihyo.

She lingered in his mind like a perfume. Vanilla — soft and cloying, deceptively sweet. Her voice had slithered into his ear, low and lethal. The glint in her eye. The threat in her smile. The way she moved, like someone who already knew the outcome of every fight.

She was gorgeous. Too gorgeous.

And dangerous.

A slayer like him shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts about a hunter, especially not one as infamous as her. They were natural enemies — or at least, conditioned ones. No alliances. No dalliances. Certainly no distractions.

He’d stay out of her way. Leave the country. Bury the memory.

That was the plan.

After showering and changing into sweats and a fresh tee, he stepped back into the suite—only to stop cold.

The room was dark.

No lights. No noise.

He hadn’t turned them off. Neither had Dino or Megara.

He froze.

Then—vanilla.

His fingers flexed. A flash of cold ether crackled through his palm as he summoned his revolver, the silver weapon forming fully in his grip. He cocked the hammer without hesitation.

“I was starting to think this would be too easy,” came that familiar, honey-slick voice.

His stomach dropped.

A shape moved in the darkness — then the glint of a blade.

Jihyo stepped forward, casual as moonlight.

“You’ve got good instincts… for a demon.”

“I’m not a demon,” Theseus said, voice even.

“They all say that.” She tilted her head. “But you’ve got the aura. The scent. Something ancient clinging to you.”

“And you have a sword pointed at my neck.”

Jihyo grinned. “You noticed.”

He didn’t lower his weapon. She didn’t lower hers.

Then she whispered, delighted, “Do you feel lucky?”

Theseus groaned. “Did you seriously just quote Dirty Harry?”

“Shut up. It’s my turn to say it.” She stepped closer, hips swaying with unnerving confidence. “Answer the question.”

“I don’t. But I’ll still get three shots off before you reach me.”

Jihyo stopped — just a breath out of reach. Her eyes scanned his face, then his weapon.

The revolver gleamed, forged from cold silver, humming with residual rage and something darker.

“That’s quite the demon gun,” she said softly, almost admiringly.

“It is… on a technicality,” he admitted. “I made it from a demon’s heart.”

Her brows lifted. “Really?” she said, stepping even closer.

He could smell her now. Feel her presence like a pressure in the air. Fear and desire clashed in his chest like colliding storms. Every alarm in his body screamed to shoot. To run. To do something.

Instead—he kissed her.

Desperate, hungry, doomed.

He crushed his mouth to hers like it was the last act of a dying man. Maybe it was.

If he was going to die, it might as well be at the hands of someone beautiful.

For half a second, Jihyo froze.

He kissed her.

Not hesitantly. Not sweetly. No — like he thought it would be the last thing he ever did.

And it should have been.

Her blade was at his neck, sharp enough to slip between vertebrae. All it would take was one twitch of her wrist. She’d done it a hundred times before — fast, clean, precise.

But this time… she didn’t move.

Not because she was stunned — but because something deep inside her didn’t want to.

Damn it. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was a demon. A wild anomaly with a demon-forged gun and a pulse that practically radiated forbidden magic.

And yet… he kissed like someone who wanted her, not in spite of what she was — but because of it.

Her heart was pounding. Fast. Loud. She could feel the weight of the blade in her hand, still raised, but limp now — forgotten. His revolver was still drawn too, but neither of them were aiming anymore.

They were just close. Too close.

His lips were warm. Desperate. Honest in a way that made her chest ache.

She hated it. She loved it.

She hated that she loved it.

Get it together, Jihyo.

You’re the predator here. You found him. Cornered him. Marked him. You were going to gut him. You were supposed to gut him.

But instead—

She dropped her blade.

It clattered to the ground, the sound sharp, startling — like a gunshot.

A second later, his revolver followed, thudding against the carpet.

Her hands were on his chest before she even realized it. Pushing him — hard — against the hotel wall. His back hit it with a dull thud, but he didn’t resist.

He looked at her, surprised. Open. Like he hadn’t expected to still be alive.

She grabbed his collar.

And kissed him back.

Not soft. Not slow. Hard. Hungry. Furious.

It wasn’t affection. It was defiance. Of the rules. The war. Herself.

His hands found her waist — hesitant, then firm — and for a moment, the room was only breath and heat and the quiet hum of danger unspoken.

She pulled away first, eyes narrowed, breath uneven.

“You kiss like a death wish,” she whispered.

He swallowed. “Maybe it is.”

Jihyo stared at him. Then smirked — not sweetly, but with fire behind it. “If you’re trying to seduce your way out of being hunted…”

He didn’t answer.

She didn’t need him to.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…It might be working.”

The kiss didn’t stop. Not after her jacket hit the floor.

Theseus wasn’t sure who was leading anymore. Maybe it didn’t matter. They were tangled in each other, mouths pressed, breaths heavy, his back still against the wall of the hotel suite. Jihyo’s fingers had twisted in his shirt before tugging it up slightly — not with grace, but with intent.

She was all fire and precision, like she was cataloguing the shape of him with every brush of her hands. The edge of her blade might be gone, but she hadn’t lost her sharpness.

Then she pulled back slightly, lips just grazing his, breath mixing with his in the stillness.

“Too many layers,” she muttered, annoyed — at him, at herself, at the rules she was already breaking.

She shrugged off her jacket, revealing the sleeveless black top beneath — tactical, breathable, tight against her frame.

But something else caught his eye.

His breath hitched. There — just above her collarbone, faintly pulsing beneath the skin — was a mark.

Not ink. Not a hunter’s brand. Something older. Etched in a language only those who trafficked in dark blood would recognize.

The glyph was shifting ever so slightly. Alive.

Theseus’s hands paused where they were, resting on her hips, and his eyes widened.

“You…” he whispered. “You’re not fully human.”

Jihyo went still.

Her face didn’t change, not at first — but her heartbeat, fast as it was, skipped a beat.

Theseus brought a hand up slowly, brushing his fingers near the mark without touching it. “This is elder script,” he murmured. “Old blood magic. You’ve got demon lineage. Not low-tier either… something ancient.”

She didn’t deny it.

Instead, she leaned in, forehead almost against his, voice barely above a breath.

“I told you I’d gut you.”

He searched her eyes, half-expecting to see malice. But there was only a strange, weary intensity.

“You’re a hunter,” he said, trying to wrap his mind around it. “How can you be part of the thing you’re trained to kill?”

Jihyo let out a soft laugh — humorless, quiet, dangerous. “Do you think humans run the hunter’s guilds? Do you think they’d let a pure mortal be in charge of keeping demons in check?”

“Elder demon blood,” he repeated. “You’re stronger than you let on.”

She tilted her head, smile razor-thin. “And you’re smarter than you look.”

For a beat, they stood there in the electric silence — the air thick with heat, confusion, and everything unsaid.

Then Theseus broke the silence, voice low, rough.

“So what now?”

Jihyo’s lips hovered just above his.

“We keep making out,” she said. “And you keep pretending I’m not deciding whether to kiss you again or kill you.”

He grinned — crooked, reckless. “I’ll take those odds.”

She kissed him again — harder this time, more desperate, like she was trying to convince herself it didn’t mean anything.

But they both knew better.

As their lips crashed Jihyo’s body kept heating up until she found the demonic fire within her fully manifesting. Jihyo’s eyes changed from a soft brown to a frenzied crimson. Claws stretched at her fingertips as she ripped into Theseus’s clothes tearing them to shreds, before pushing him onto the couch.

“I need you inside me right fucking now!” She growled. Theseus stared into her eyes as flames encircled him as he realized he was in way over his head. So he did what he always did. He adapted.

He slid inside the huntress’s tight hot and wet snatch as she accepted him she moaned. Feeling relieved the flames around Jihyo died down as Jihyo took more of Theseus’s cock inside of her.

“Fuck! Fuck!” She moaned in between methodical and powerful thrust. Theseus watched as her yiddies bounced mesmerically. Jihyo stared at Theseus watching him fall deeper into her charms.

“Grab them she commanded and Theseus did. Jihyo moaned even greater as his hands cupped her chest. He got lost in the suppleness but also the firmness of her breasts as he continued thrusting. Jihyo convulsed as she felt his hands run wild over her breasts. She moaned as he massaged and kneaded them.

“Do you like them?” Jihyo asked.

Theseus moaned as he nodded, “your body is evil!” He yelled. So hot and tempting

Jihyo laughed and challenged, “what are you gonna do about it?”

The marks of her demonic heritage grew all over as the flames began roaring going from crimson and orange to indigo and pink. She moaned before yelping in surprise as Theseus picked her up and continued fucking her.

“Keep going!” Jihyo screamed as his cock tore through her.

Theseus moaned as her pussy clamped down on his cock until he exploded inside of her. Jihyo moaned as he kept going sending her over her peak until she came. She gushed all over his cock leaving him drenched as she twitched and moaned.

The flames died down around Jihyo but she felt something in her shift. As if Theseus had awakened something inside of her.

Theseus sat beside Jihyo on the couch, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. The night was quiet now. No weapons. No threats. Just the steady rhythm of shared breathing and the slow, undeniable warmth that had grown between them.

He glanced down at her, surprised at how peaceful she looked. Jihyo — the storm — finally still.

Before long, sleep claimed them both.

⸻

In his dreams, she was everywhere — darting through his thoughts like a spark he couldn’t catch. He saw flashes of her laugh, the way she fought, the look in her eyes when she almost kissed him for the first time.

Jihyo’s dream was gentler. She saw herself dancing barefoot in a sunlit garden, spinning in circles, arms wide, laughter echoing like windchimes. Theseus was there too — distant at first, then slowly drawing near, hands outstretched.

⸻

The knocking shattered the moment.

Bang bang bang.

Both of them stirred with a jolt. Disoriented, tangled under a blanket that hadn’t been there before.

Jihyo blinked. “What the hell—?”

Theseus groaned. “Please tell me that’s not real.”

Another knock. More impatient this time.

Scrambling, they untangled themselves from the blanket, trying to piece together what happened. His shirt was missing. Her jacket had vanished. In the chaos, Jihyo accidentally yanked Theseus’s oversized hoodie over her head while trying to find her top, and Theseus, flustered and half-awake, shoved her beanie onto his head by mistake.

They froze, glancing at each other.

“…I don’t think this is a good look,” Jihyo mumbled, the hoodie practically swallowing her whole.

“You think?” Theseus muttered, adjusting the beanie that was far too snug.

The knocking came again.

With a sigh, he stumbled toward the door and cracked it open — still wearing her beanie.

Megara and Dino stood outside, holding coffee and paper bags.

Megara took one look at him and blinked. “Why are you wearing a pink beanie?”

Theseus opened his mouth. Closed it. “I… was cold?”

Dino leaned to the side, spotting Jihyo peeking out from the blanket behind him in his hoodie.

“Ah,” Dino grinned, elbowing Megara. “Guess diplomacy’s going well.”

Jihyo groaned from the couch. “Don’t start.”

Megara smirked. “We brought breakfast. But maybe we’ll come back in, say, twenty minutes?”

“Make it thirty,” Jihyo called out, already pulling the hood up over her face.

Theseus didn’t even argue. He just nodded and shut the door.

As they finally got dressed properly, Theseus tugged on his rumpled pants and glanced at Jihyo, who was sprawled across the bed, still lounging in his hoodie.

“You owe me a new outfit,” he muttered, buttoning his shirt halfway.

Jihyo smirked, stretching lazily. “If you keep fucking me like last night, I’ll buy you anything you want.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “You are dangerously generous when you’re smug.”

She grinned, then blinked — noticing deep red claw marks trailing across his back. Her smirk faded.

“Huh.”

He turned. “What?”

Jihyo stood and ran a finger lightly along one of the scratches. “Demons don’t scar like humans.” Her voice dropped, thoughtful. “But you do.”

“That’s because I’m not a demon,” Theseus said plainly.

Jihyo’s eyes narrowed. “Okay then. So what are you?”

He exhaled and gave a small shrug. “I’m a Slayer. Born human. Strong enough to kill demons, fast enough to survive them. But I don’t belong to either side.”

Jihyo crossed her arms, skeptical. “You expect me to believe that?”

He raised both hands. “Do I look like I’ve got demon marks?”

She gave him a long, calculating look, taking in his lean form, his scars, his eyes. Then sighed.

“No… you don’t.”

“Exactly,” he said. “But most hunters don’t ask. They just come swinging. So I usually respond with a shot between the eyes or straight through the heart. Saves time.”

She smirked. “What about me?”

“What about you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“You didn’t go for the kill.”

Theseus chuckled, stepping in to kiss her on the cheek. She let out a small, surprised yelp.

“I kinda did,” he said with a grin. “Just not through the ribcage.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept up her neck. “Okay, Mr. Slayer,” she teased. “But what’s your plan for the other hunters? You can’t seduce all of them.”

He shrugged. “I only really need to avoid you. The rest won’t be expecting me.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Good answer,” she said, stepping closer, her voice low and possessive. “Because you’re mine now.”

Her aura pulsed — a flicker of demonic energy behind her eyes, like a storm rolling in under calm skies.

Theseus felt the shift, the tension building again — fast and hot. He quickly placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

“Nope. Not happening. I’ve got a radio show to prep for.”

Jihyo blinked. “What radio show?”

He sighed. “The one I’m scheduled to be on for my world tour? You know — the thing I’m currently doing?”

“Oh. You’re an artist?” she asked, blinking in genuine curiosity.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Metal act. Name’s Malevolence. Technically it’s a one-man show, but the name sounds cooler when it sounds like a band.”

She gave him a slow, surprised smile. “Damn. A slayer with stage presence. I really am keeping you.”

He snorted. “I’m flattered. Now get out of my hoodie.”

Jihyo yawned and flopped back onto the bed. “Make me.”

Theseus stared at her for a beat, then turned around before she could tempt him further. “I swear you’re trying to sabotage me.”

“Not sabotage,” she called after him, voice dripping with smugness. “Just claiming what’s mine.”

The sunlight was annoyingly bright when Jihyo stepped outside, hoodie still clinging to her frame like a guilty pleasure. It smelled like him — smoky, musky, warm — and for once, she didn’t mind being marked. She looked at the design on it. It seemed like English but the font was all “fuzzy,” Jihyo thought to herself trying to read it.

She tugged the zipper up halfway, hands buried in the front pocket as she slipped into the bathroom and opened a warp sigil back to her apartment. A sigh left her lips as she stepped inside, the familiar scent of coffee beans, lavender, and faint brimstone greeting her like an old friend.

She leaned against the door for a moment, her head tilted back.

What the hell was that last night?

It had started as a stakeout. A clean kill. Observe, interrogate, execute. And now she was home in his hoodie and bite marks left on his collarbone, memories of growled praise and tangled limbs still replaying like a song stuck on loop.

Jihyo groaned and shoved her face into her hands. “you’re an idiot.”

She finally peeled the hoodie off and tossed it over a chair before dragging herself into the bathroom. Her reflection stared back at her — wild hair, a few new bruises, lips that still looked a little too swollen.

She smirked. Her eyes flashed violet for a minute as she felt the demonic fire within rage inside of her.

Yeah, okay. She wasn’t mad about it.

She decided to shower before meeting with Chaeyoung and Jeongyeon As the water from the shower warmed up, she texted the group chat:

Jihyo: Home. On the way in 30. Don’t start without me.

Jeongyeon: We’re at the spa already. You’re late.

Chaeyoung: Bring snacks or suffer <3

She rolled her eyes but smiled. The spa day had been planned weeks ago — a post-mission/ tour treat for surviving another near-disaster involving a possessed subway and a rogue succubus cult. Honestly, Jihyo was just glad she wasn’t limping from that mission.

She grabbed her favorite black leggings, a flowy crop top, and tossed her damp hair into a half-messy bun. Her gaze lingered on the hoodie for a moment — Theseus’s scent still clinging to it like a memory that hadn’t fully left.

She debated taking it.

“Nope,” she muttered. “They’d smell the testosterone a mile away.”

She opted for a clean jacket, something neutral and unassuming, and added just enough concealer to hide the love bite peeking above her collarbone. Just because she wasn’t ashamed didn’t mean she was ready for the third-degree.

Still, as she packed her bag and slid into her shoes, she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

They were absolutely going to find out.

And she absolutely deserved this moment.

Jihyo tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, a slight smirk tugging at her lips as she tuned into the radio station Theseus had mentioned. The static faded just in time for her to catch the tail end of the host’s intro.

“As promised, we’ve got the mosh pit king himself, the mind behind Malevolence — Theseus!”

Applause and background cheers filled the car’s speakers, and Jihyo couldn’t help but laugh softly at how composed he sounded, compared to the absolute menace he’d been last night.

Then one of the hosts let out a sudden gasp. “Wait—are you wearing a TWICE shirt?! Are you a ONCE?!”

There was a pause, then his voice, smooth and low as ever: “Yeah, been one since, like, 2019. Actually, that’s how I met my manager, Megara. We were both fans first. After my first song blew up, she helped me keep my life from crashing into hellfire.”

Jihyo raised a brow. That tracked. Megara had the cool-headed ruthlessness of someone who probably used spreadsheets to schedule destruction.

“Oh, so you’ve been with the same team since the beginning?” another host asked.

“Pretty much. Ride or die.”

The hosts drifted into English banter after that — some quips about tour antics and mosh pit etiquette that Jihyo only caught in fragments — but before she could piece it together, she was pulling into the spa parking lot.

Hand on the ignition, she was just about to shut off the engine when one final question caught her attention.

“So, would you ever invite TWICE to one of your shows?”

There was a beat. She imagined his lopsided grin as he answered, “They’re always welcome.”

Jihyo bit her lip, warmth creeping up her neck.

But then came the kicker.

“Okay, last TWICE question — who’s your bias?”

Her heart skipped. She leaned in.

There was a teasing pause. Then: “It was Jihyo… but due to some recent developments, I think it’s Momo now.”

Jihyo blinked. Her jaw dropped.

What.

“Oh, hell no,” she muttered aloud as she shut the car off. “He’s getting punished.”

Still fuming — though secretly flattered — she adjusted her jacket and strutted toward the spa, already plotting exactly how she’d “correct” his bias in the very near future.

Steam curled lazily in the cedar-scented air as Jihyo stepped through the glass doors of the private bathhouse. The faint hum of conversation, mixed with the soft bubbling of hot water, wrapped around her like a warm towel. She spotted Chaeyoung and Jeongyeon already soaking in the water, drinks on the nearby ledge, their hair tied up in matching towels like tiny crowns of mischief.

“Hey!” Jeongyeon called, waving her hand as she leaned back. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

Chaeyoung smirked, her cheeks already pink from the heat. “You’re late. Don’t think we didn’t notice.”

Jihyo chuckled and slid out of her robe, stepping into the bath with a contented sigh. “I got caught in traffic.”

“That’s what you’re calling it now?” Jeongyeon teased. “Traffic?”

Before Jihyo could shoot back a retort, a familiar voice drifted from the Bluetooth speaker resting on the edge of the tub.

“…and our guest today is none other than Theseus of Malevolence, currently on tour and somehow still managing to look like he crawled out of the underworld in style.”

Jihyo stiffened slightly, but kept her expression cool. Chaeyoung caught the shift instantly.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention—we’ve been listening to the interview while we waited,” Chaeyoung said, grinning. “I can turn it off if you want,”

Jihyo shook her head and said, “No he sounds nice and his voice is surprisingly soothing,”

Chaeyoung turned to her leader surprised and said, “didn’t even know you listened to this guy until now.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes and said, “no his voice is just calming.

Jeongyeon leaned in, her tone teasing but curious. “You do know he’s kind of a big deal, right? Like… underground god of metal and chaos? Total demon hunter fantasy fuel?”

Jihyo scoffed. “Okay and?.”

“Please,” Chaeyoung said with a knowing smirk. “ you expect us to believe that you aren’t into the whole bad boy from America thing?”

Jihyo rolled her eyes but kept her poker face. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Mmhmm,” Jeongyeon hummed. “So how did that demon hunt go, anyway? You ran off so suddenly.”

Jihyo reached for her tea, taking a slow sip to buy herself time.

“It got messy,” she said, finally. “Turned out to be stronger than intel suggested. I had to call in backup.”

Chaeyoung raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Jihyo continued smoothly. “Got help from this American hunter. Real heavy-hitter type. Kind of a lone wolf but good in a fight.”

Jeongyeon narrowed her eyes. “Name?”

Jihyo pretended to think. “I think he just goes by ‘Dio.’” She forced herself not to smile at her own audacity. “Real quiet, didn’t talk much, but he knew how to handle himself.”

Chaeyoung blinked. Then blinked again. “Wait… Dio? Like Jojo’s?”

Jihyo shrugged, giving them the perfect blend of mystery and misdirection. “I doubt it. Common enough name, right?”

Before they could press further, the interview picked up again.

“Okay, last TWICE question,” said the host on the speaker. “Who’s your bias?”

Jihyo braced.

“It was Jihyo,” Theseus’s voice drawled, “but due to some recent developments… I think it’s Momo now.”

Chaeyoung snorted. “Wow. Ruthless.”

Jihyo’s expression didn’t flinch, but the heat in her cheeks had nothing to do with the bathwater. “He’s got jokes,” she said coolly. “Probably just trying to bait clicks.”

Jeongyeon gave her a sideways look. “You okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Jihyo said with a sweet, dangerous smile. “I’ll just have to return the favor next time I see him.”

Chaeyoung laughed. “Damn. Remind me not to cross you.”

Jihyo leaned back, letting her head rest against the tiled edge, her eyes closing for a brief moment as steam kissed her face.

So far so good, she thought. But if they find that hoodie in my laundry, I’m screwed.

A gentle splash echoed through the bathhouse as Chaeyoung stretched out her arms with a groan of bliss. “Ugh, this is heaven. My shoulders feel like they’ve finally forgiven me.”

“I swear,” Jeongyeon added, adjusting the cold towel on her forehead, “every time we do this, I realize how desperately I need it. And how much I hate cardio.”

“You hate everything that isn’t bubble tea and sleep,” Chaeyoung quipped.

“Fair.”

Jihyo let their voices drift around her like steam. Her fingers idly trailed the water’s surface, her expression contemplative behind the relaxed posture.

“So,” Jeongyeon began again, cocking a brow toward Jihyo, “what’s your mysterious American hunter look like, anyway? Asking for, y’know… purely professional curiosity.”

Jihyo’s lips twitched. “Tall. Sharp jaw. Tattooed. Quiet type with that whole ‘don’t ask what I’ve seen’ look.”

Chaeyoung’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, like your exact type.”

Jeongyeon sipped her infused water with dramatic judgment. “And let me guess… muscles like sin and eyes like regret?”

“Something like that,” Jihyo said with maddening calm.

“Mmhmm.” Chaeyoung gave her a long look. “You know if you weren’t already the most dangerous one here, I’d be scared of you.”

“Still scared,” Jeongyeon muttered under her breath.

Jihyo tilted her head back against the tiles, her voice light. “You two really want to know what happened?”

Their eyes lit up in unison.

She opened one eye, smirked, and said, “Let’s just say… he owes me an outfit.”

The silence broke into chaotic splashing as Chaeyoung shrieked, “Jihyo!” and Jeongyeon practically choked on her drink.

“No! No way—you didn’t!”

“I’m not saying what happened,” Jihyo said innocently, “just that clothes were lost and now I’m owed one.”

Chaeyoung was blushing so hard she might have boiled the water around her. “You are so not allowed to keep that to yourself.”

Jeongyeon groaned, laughing despite herself. “This better not end up in a tabloid. Or worse, the demon registry.”

Jihyo shrugged, eyes gleaming. “It won’t he’s still human after all . Technically.”

“Technically sounds like trouble,” Chaeyoung warned.

“Yeah he is and Trouble owes me a jacket,” Jihyo replied.

Then, as the interview on the speaker wound down, her mind drifted back to Theseus’s voice — that teasing lilt, the way he said Momo with a smirk she could hear.

Her lips curved into something between a smirk and a promise. “Anyway, I’ve got plans for him.”

“Oh no,” Jeongyeon murmured, half-laughing, half-concerned. “What kind of plans?”

Jihyo stood, water cascading down her skin like silver. “The kind that makes you regret teasing the leader of Twice.”

Chaeyoung put a hand to her chest dramatically. “Please don’t kill him.”

Jihyo grabbed her towel and smiled sweetly. “Of course not. I’m just going to remind him who his real bias is.”

Later that evening, after the laughter, the warmth, and the scent of eucalyptus faded from her skin, Jihyo found herself standing in front of her vanity mirror, bathed in the soft amber glow of her apartment’s bathroom light.

Her fingers moved mechanically—dabbing cream under her eyes, brushing through the ends of her damp hair—but her mind wasn’t in the room. It was still spinning from everything.

From him.

Theseus.

From the weight of the night before.

From the heat that hadn’t fully left her body.

She leaned forward, inspecting her reflection, but froze.

For the briefest moment—less than a blink—her eyes weren’t brown.

They were violet.

Deep, unearthly. Crackling faintly with inner fire. Like twin smoldering coals in a perfect face.

Jihyo’s breath caught. “…No.”

She blinked rapidly. Brown again.

She held her breath and waited—there. The violet shimmer returned at the edges of her irises, creeping in like ink dropped in water. Unnatural. Hungry.

As she stared, the air around her seemed to ripple. The steam in the mirror thickened and distorted. Somewhere in the corners of the room, a low crackle of heat murmured—and then with a sudden fwoom—a small arc of violet flame licked up from the edge of the candle she hadn’t lit.

She turned sharply.

Another wisp of fire bloomed at the corner of the room, tiny, dancing, and then vanished as if embarrassed to be caught.

Jihyo backed away from the mirror, heart racing, but her blood wasn’t chilled—it was boiling. Her skin felt too tight, like there was something just under it, trying to claw its way to the surface.

“What the hell…” she whispered, her voice slightly layered now—like someone had added a second, softer version of herself underneath.

She gripped the sink, her nails biting into the porcelain. Her mind tried to rationalize it, but something primal in her spine already knew.

It wasn’t a one-time flare-up. It wasn’t going away.

Theseus had triggered something. Not just desire. Not just power.

Recognition.

A part of her—buried deep—had stirred.

And now it wanted out.

She looked back into the mirror. This time, her reflection didn’t copy her. Not right away.

It smirked first.

Violet eyes blazing, lips curling in wicked delight.

Then, only then, did it match her expression of dread.

Jihyo stepped back and hissed under her breath, “No. Not yet. I’m still in control.”

But the fire, even if only in flickers, said otherwise.

Despite her body practically screaming for her to go see Theseus, Jihyo made a different choice. She stayed with Momo.

A small, smug smile crept onto her face at the thought—spending time with his bias while he’s busy? A little petty, maybe. But satisfying.

As always, food was involved. Momo had suggested a quiet Korean BBQ spot just outside the city. The place was cozy, slightly worn, and always smelled like sizzling meat and garlic. Just how they liked it.

They were elbow-deep in lettuce wraps and perfectly charred bulgogi when Momo leaned forward, chewing thoughtfully.

“So,” she mumbled through a bite, “how’d that last hunt go?”

Jihyo swallowed, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “Tough one. But I had help—American hunter, kind of a weirdo.”

Momo snorted. “Let me guess. Asked for a lock of your hair or tried to lick your boots like that one creepy lady in Louisiana?”

Jihyo’s eyes widened and she waved her hands, laughing. “No, no! Nothing like that. He was actually… pretty normal. Just awkward. Kind of shy.”

“Oh good,” Momo said, exhaling with relief. “I didn’t want to have to fight him.”

Jihyo grinned slyly. “Please. He’s more likely to run from a fight than start one.”

Momo paused mid-bite, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. He took the demon out with his revolver, all efficient and no drama. Clean shot to the head. Then he just kind of… nodded and left.”

Momo blinked. “Huh. That’s actually kind of impressive.”

“Right?” Jihyo said with a shrug, feigning casualness while hiding the memory of violet eyes and the lingering heat in her skin.

Momo popped another bite into her mouth and said around it, “Still sounds like a nerd.”

Jihyo laughed, but her gaze drifted to the glowing grill between them. As the meat hissed and popped, she thought—not for the first time—about just how not normal that American hunter really was.

But for now, she’d let it lie.

Let the fire rest. It didn’t last long though.

The moment Jihyo stepped through her apartment door, she slammed it shut behind her and pressed her back to it. Her heart was thundering. Her skin—glowing. Not literally. Not yet.

But it was close.

Heat pooled in her chest, curling through her veins like molten metal. Her breath came shallow. Her fingers trembled as she pulled off her boots, barely making it down the hall before yanking off her jacket and tossing it to the floor.

She passed a mirror and caught sight of herself.

Her eyes were flickering again—deep violet flames pulsing in and out like they were syncing with her heartbeat. Her cheeks were flushed, lips parted, strands of hair clinging to her temples from a light sweat.

She looked… wild.

She felt feral.

Something inside her was howling.

The meal with Momo hadn’t helped. It had only reminded her of the growing ache—this need—coiling tighter every time she thought of him.

Theseus.

The way he touched her. The way he kissed her like she was something dangerous—and holy—and his.

And gods, the way her demon side responded to him.

No one had ever brought it out of her like that. Not even close.

She stormed into her bedroom and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, fingers already pulling out her phone. She opened Instagram—she didn’t even hesitate—tapping through to Theseus’s page.

The most recent photo was from earlier that day: a shot of him at the radio show, innocent and happy, face half-turned to the camera, flexing without meaning to. She almost growled.

Jihyo didn’t comment.

She hit Message.

And then she typed, her fingers fast, sharp.

[jihyo] Get over here. Now. I don’t care what you’re doing. If I don’t feel your mouth on me in 20 minutes I’m burning this building down.

She stared at the message for half a second.

Then she hit Send.

The instant she did, she felt the heat spike—like her body approved of the choice.

Her room dimmed as the air shimmered with low, supernatural heat. The violet in her eyes returned, brighter now. Hungry.

She stood up, pacing, hands running through her hair, teeth biting down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Her phone buzzed.

She looked down.

[Theseus] …You okay?

She rolled her eyes, scowling.

[jihyo] No. I’m on fire. And you’re the only one who knows how to put it out.

Three dots blinked. Then stopped.

Then blinked again.

Finally:

[Theseus] On my way. Don’t combust without me.

She exhaled slowly, dropping the phone to the bed.

The flames around her body dimmed. Not gone. Not cooled. Just… waiting.

Waiting for him.

Fifteen minutes after she’d summoned him, Theseus stood at Jihyo’s door—sweat already beading on his brow.

The moment he stepped inside, it hit him: heat. Dense. Radiant. Almost alive. The air shimmered with it, thick and charged, like a furnace wrapped in silk. His breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t just hot—it was otherworldly.

The closer he got to her bedroom, the stronger it grew. His steps slowed. He felt it in his bones—something ancient and wild pulsing behind that door.

He pushed it open.

And froze.

Jihyo was waiting, perched at the edge of her bed like a queen on a pyre. Indigo and rose-gold flames crackled in a perfect circle around the mattress, casting dancing shadows across her bare shoulders and glowing skin. Her demon marks shimmered across her body in slow, hypnotic patterns—alive and moving. Her irises were pure violet, radiant and alien. Her pupils blown wide, devouring him.

She smiled like sin wrapped in silk.

“My slayer arrives… right on time,” she purred.

Theseus felt his pulse spike. Lust. Awe. A very real sense of danger. This wasn’t the Jihyo from the spa, or even the one from last night. This was her unbound.

She rose with slow, deliberate grace. Her hips swayed. Her feet left trails of flame on the floor—blazing pink and violet fire that burned nothing, only sizzled with promise. The air warped behind her.

He barely noticed her hand on his chest until she stopped, eyes narrowing.

“I didn’t appreciate your little joke today,” she said, voice low and teasing—but with a warning edge.

Theseus blinked. “Joke?”

She pouted slightly, then said, “I am your bias. Not Momo.”

Ah.

He sighed, finally catching up. “It was just a tease—”

“Hmm,” Jihyo hummed, tilting her head. “You still need to be punished.”

Before he could speak, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a deep, greedy kiss. Her lips crashed against his like a storm. Her fingers raked down his sides, tugging him closer. Flames flared around them, rising with every second.

Then, without warning, she pushed him backward onto the bed.

The fire-ring parted just enough to let him fall.

She climbed over him, eyes gleaming with hunger and heat, hair cascading around her shoulders like shadow and wildfire.

“You’re mine tonight,” she growled, her voice layered—human and demonic in harmony—as the flames pulsed around them, sealing them in.

And the bed didn’t burn.

But everything else would.

Jihyo’s lips crashed into Theseus’s again, deeper this time, hungrier. Her weight pressed into him as her hands explored, not with hesitation, but with ownership. Each kiss melted into the next, and with every second, the air grew thicker—not just from heat, but from something ancient uncoiling inside her. She rapaciously undressed herself while demanding Theseus remove his clothes.

The flames circling the bed flared outward in rhythm with her breath—no longer sharp and wild, but warm and worshipful, like they now danced for her.

Theseus barely noticed the shift at first—he was too wrapped in her mouth, in her scent, in the way her body moved against his like music only they could hear. But then he felt it.

The pulse.

A power blooming beneath her skin.

Her back arched above him, and her body trembled—not with fear, but with liberation. As if something she’d locked away her whole life had finally been set loose. Her moans carried a new harmony—layered, resonant, almost songlike. Her marks blazed to life in full, curling across her shoulders, ribs, thighs in glowing violet calligraphy. Her eyes shone brighter, not just violet now, but flecked with molten gold. She stared down at him before mounting him. Her body claiming what was rightfully hers.

With possessive violet eyes Jihyo stared at Theseus. Her gaze was both vulnerable and sultry

“Jihyo,” Theseus whispered, breathless, hands on her waist. “You’re…”

“Free,” she said, her voice a soft echo, like it came from both her and some great fire behind her. She leaned down, forehead against his. “With you… I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to hold it back.”

The flames that had roared earlier now kissed the air gently, like firelight at a temple. They caressed Theseus’s skin, not to scorch—but to bless. No pain. Just heat. Desire. Intimacy.

She kissed him again—slower this time. Her tongue traced his lip, her fingers tangling in his hair. When she pulled back, her irises were burning stars.

“I’ve spent so long pretending I was normal,” she said, voice trembling with truth. “Even with Chaeyoung. Even with Jeongyeon. But this part of me… it’s always been waiting. And now—now I don’t want to hide.”

“You don’t have to,” Theseus murmured, his voice low but firm. “Not from me.”

A breath caught in her throat.

Then she kissed him again, and this time it was all of her—woman and demon, softness and fire, fury and tenderness. She rode him with reverence and hunger, not as a demon out of control—but as a goddess claiming her offering.

And all the while, the flames curled around them like a veil.

A sanctuary.

Where no one else existed but the two of them, and the truth they no longer needed to deny. After an hour the heat within melted her desire into pure lust. She got on all fours and presented her swollen sopping pussy to Theseus.

“Fucking take it. Fuck me like you mean it!”

Theseus relaxed then plunged deep inside of her pussy. Jihyo moaned as he pulled out about halfway before thrusting back into her hard and deep.

“Fuck!” Jihyo groaned as Theseus continued his assault on her body. He put his left hand on her left hip and his right on her right shoulder to steady himself before sending another deep powerful thrust. Jihyo clawed at the sheets as Theseus railed her. Her flames rising and falling with each thrust until she came. Her peak was fierce and fiery as you’d imagine.

Her pussy locked around Theseus cock with an almost death like grip. Jihyo moaned and said, “fucking cum! Cum right now! I need it,” she yelled/growled.

Theseus ever the people pleaser complied. He painted her womb white as he spilled inside of her Jihyo purred as her flames died down. She was satiated for now.

The couple passed out shortly after exhausted by the endeavor.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of Jihyo’s bedroom, casting a soft golden hue over the room. The flames were gone now, replaced by the smell of warm skin and the weight of silence between breaths.

Theseus lay back on the bed, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other gently resting on Jihyo’s bare back as she drew idle shapes on his chest with her fingers. The heat between them had cooled into something gentler—an intimacy no less intense, but now quieter.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, voice still rough with sleep.

Jihyo nodded but didn’t lift her head. “Better than I have in weeks.”

A pause.

Then, softer, “Can I ask you something?”

Theseus shifted slightly. “Course.”

Jihyo inhaled. “Do you ever… feel like the weight of everything caught up to you too fast? Like we started hunting so early, and now everyone looks at us like we’re these untouchable veterans, but I don’t know. Sometimes I see my friends—Chaeyoung, Nayeon, even Mina—catching up and doing amazing, and I just… wonder if I got here too early. If I missed something.”

Her voice broke a little at the end, and she turned her face slightly, ashamed.

Theseus didn’t speak immediately. He lifted his hand and brushed her hair away from her cheek, then tilted her chin up so their eyes met.

“Maybe they’re great now,” he said gently, “because of you. Maybe your leadership gave them the space to grow without burning out.”

Jihyo’s eyes shimmered.

And before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around his torso and buried her face in his neck. “You jerk,” she mumbled, voice thick with tears. “That’s—too sweet…”

He held her, rubbing small circles into her back. “You’re allowed to feel it, Jihyo. You don’t have to carry all of it alone anymore.”

They stayed like that for a while, her clinging to him, his arms wrapped securely around her, until she sniffled and leaned back with a small smile.

“When did you start hunting?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

He smirked. “Started training when I was ten.”

Her eyes widened. “Ten? That’s when I started too. Wait—how old are you?”

“Twenty-seven,” he said casually.

Jihyo blinked.

She smacked his chest with mock offense. “Ya! That makes me your noona! I started a year before you!”

He chuckled. “Guess I’m at your mercy then.”

“You already were,” she teased, but her smile turned a little shy, a little soft. “You’re seriously amazing though… and I’m glad I’m not the only one who started young.”

Theseus tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re all a little scarred, Jihyo. But you? You turned yours into strength. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Jihyo leaned in and kissed him—not passionately this time, but deeply, tenderly.

“I won’t,” she said. “Not with you around.”

After that, Jihyo smiled and got up, practically prancing across the room with a light bounce in her step. She was radiant, humming to herself as she picked up a hair tie and tossed her hair into a loose ponytail.

Theseus followed a few seconds later, still groggy and dragging his feet like someone who hadn’t fully returned to the waking world. He squinted at the sunlight streaming in from the window.

“So,” Jihyo called over her shoulder, “when’s your show again?”

“Tomorrow night,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Perfect,” she replied breezily. “I’m bringing Momo with me.”

“Of course you are,” he chuckled.

She nodded to herself, then added more casually, “When do you leave Korea?”

“The day after the show.”

“Good.” Jihyo turned, grinning from ear to ear. “Then we’ve got plenty of time to talk about you moving in with me!”

Theseus blinked. “What makes you think I want to move in with you?”

Jihyo smirked and gave him a slow, teasing look. “Because you’re mine now. And besides, I’ve still got things to finish here. But after that, we can live wherever we want.”

“Anywhere but Australia,” Theseus muttered.

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“I’ve seen the animals there. Giant spiders. 2 out of the three deadliest Snakes. Kangaroos that box. No thanks.”

Jihyo burst out laughing. “Mr. Slayer is scared of Aussie wildlife? Wow. Okay then—no Australia, you big baby.”

“Cool,” Theseus said, smirking. But his expression softened a little as he added, “Are you sure you want me though? I’m a relentless playboy. A flirt. Kind of a menace, honestly.”

Jihyo laughed—a full, delighted sound that filled the room. “I’ve seen your interviews. You’re a sweetheart. All that music, all the demon-slaying, and you’re still basically a textbook teddy bear boyfriend.”

Theseus squinted at her, defensive. “Just because I believe girls I like should be treated right doesn’t mean I’m a teddy bear.”

“Oh, it definitely does,” she teased, stepping in and wrapping her arms around him in a warm, tight hug. “And don’t worry—I like my plushy, soft, protective teddy bear boyfriend.”

Theseus let out a groan, but he melted into the hug anyway, arms sliding around her waist.

“Fine,” he muttered against her shoulder. “But I draw the line at matching pajamas.”

Jihyo grinned. “We’ll see.”

They lounged together for a while, basking in the morning calm before Theseus—despite his protests—got up to cook.

Jihyo watched from the counter, chin in hand, grinning like a cat who got the cream. “You really gonna cook for me right now? Just leaning into the teddy bear boyfriend role, huh?”

“Do you want to eat or not?” Theseus grumbled, cracking eggs with practiced ease.

“I mean, I’ll eat,” she said sweetly, “but I reserve the right to tease you relentlessly while you do it.”

And she did—commenting on everything from the way he sliced fruit to how he concentrated when flipping the pastries. But the moment she took the first bite, everything changed.

Jihyo let out a muffled squeal as she chewed, eyes going wide in delight. “Mmmf—wait. This is really good.”

Theseus raised an eyebrow. “Did you just make a sound that wasn’t a laugh or a command?”

She swallowed, eyes sparkling. “Wow. I didn’t know your face could do anything besides scowl when food’s involved.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make your eggs disappear.”

Jihyo laughed. “No no no—praise first. The pastry’s a little sweet, but the rest? Perfect.”

Theseus smirked as he poured himself some tea. “Glad I could impress Her Highness.”

Before she could reply, a sudden knock echoed through the apartment. Theseus looked toward the door, frowning.

“Expecting someone?” he asked.

“Nope,” Jihyo said, still chewing.

Theseus walked over cautiously, peered through the peephole—then blinked.

He turned back to her, deadpan. “Uh, Yo-yo? Not to alarm you or anything, but there’s a giant blue tiger at your door.”

Jihyo’s brow lifted. “Big orange eyes? Slightly crossed? Looks like it’s trying to intimidate the door frame?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

Jihyo smiled brightly. “Oh, that’s Rumi. And her boys. You can let them in, Teddy.”

Theseus narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

He sighed, scowling as he opened the door.

Standing there was the massive blue tiger, staring at him with mild confusion—and behind it, a tall woman with dark red hair and a relaxed but unmistakably commanding presence.

Rumi, the leader of Huntrix, gave him a once-over and smiled coolly. “Morning. Smells good in here.”

She stepped in like she owned the place.

Theseus shut the door behind her, muttering, “Why does everyone in this country just waltz in like they pay rent…”

Jihyo, already halfway through her breakfast, grinned. “Because they’re family, Teddy.”

Rumi strode in with feline grace, her boots making almost no sound despite the weight of her presence. The blue tiger—twice the size of a lion and still somehow not threatening but endearing—slunk in behind her and promptly curled up by the window like it owned the place. a small bird perched above it's head with a tiny hat.

Jihyo didn’t flinch. She just took another bite of her breakfast and raised her brows. “To what do I owe the royal visit?”

Rumi smirked. “Heard some interesting things through the grapevine. Something about Twice's leader summoning a male slayer through Instagram like a thirsty demon in heat.”

Theseus, halfway through pouring himself more tea, choked.

Jihyo gave Rumi a withering glare. “Please tell me you didn’t get that from Chaeyoung.”

“Jeongyeon, actually,” Rumi said, sinking gracefully onto the arm of the couch. “Chaeyoung just screamed into a pillow when she found out.”

“I told them I had backup from an American hunter,” Jihyo muttered, stabbing a slice of fruit with her fork.

Rumi’s eyes flicked over to Theseus, who stood off to the side with quiet wariness—shirt half-untucked, hair still sleep-mussed. She studied him the way a queen studies a knight who might one day marry her general. Or try to kill her.

“So you’re the Slayer,” she said casually, swirling the words like wine in her mouth. “Not bad looking. Taller than I thought.”

Theseus blinked. “Thanks… I think ?”

Jihyo leaned toward Rumi. “Please don’t interrogate him.”

“I would never,” Rumi said with a grin. Then to Theseus, “But if I were going to, I’d probably ask what your intentions are with our dear Jihyo. Seeing as she’s glowing and floating around her apartment like she’s been possessed.”

Jihyo groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Unnie, please.”

Theseus, to his credit, didn’t flinch. He met Rumi’s gaze head-on. “I don’t have an agenda. But I respect her strength. She is a bit…more than I expected.”

Rumi gave a thoughtful nod, clearly enjoying herself. “That’s fair. And you’re not too much of a coward—considering you opened the door for a tiger with crossed eyes.”

“I was told to,” Theseus said dryly, shooting Jihyo a glance.

“She does have that effect,” Rumi mused.

Jihyo finally sat up straighter and cleared her throat. “Okay. You’ve sized him up, you’ve teased me, you’ve let your giant cat take over the sunniest part of my apartment. Is there anything important you came here for?”

Rumi shrugged. “Just wanted to see you with my own eyes. You’ve been different lately.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

Rumi gave a small, real smile. “Happier. more fiery, but also sweeter, i don't know. Softer I guess. Like you finally put the armor down.”

Jihyo blinked. That hit harder than she expected.

Rumi stood and ruffled Jihyo’s hair as she walked by. “I like it. Don’t lose your edge—but don’t be afraid to let someone hold your blade for a while either.”

Theseus laughed before saying, "Funny thing is I don't really do swords. I more of a mace/ club guy."

Rumi couldn't have rolled her eyes harder.

She paused at the door, then glanced back at Theseus. “You hurt her, I won’t send the tiger. I’ll come myself.”

“Fair,” Theseus said without hesitation.

Rumi gave a wink. “Smart boy.”

She snapped her fingers once, and the tiger heaved itself up, stretched luxuriously, and padded after her with a lazy swish of its tail. It approached Theseus with a cautious gaze before butting itself into his body. Smiling and purring as Theseus pet him before the giant cat left with Rumi by phasing through the door

As the door closed behind them, Theseus exhaled slowly. “Is it always like that with her?”

Jihyo smirked. “She’s actually being nice today.”

Theseus blinked. “That was nice?”

Jihyo chuckled, got up from her chair, and draped her arms around his shoulders. “Relax, Teddy. You passed.”

He glanced at the door, then at her. “Barely.”

“But you did,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “And that’s all that matters.”

[lavenderchqn]

✧・┆cottons and linens

— stealing clothes and accessories can go both ways. anemo men make sure you don't forget that.

content warnings: it's implied you either share clothing sizes or the clothes are oversized on you.

this set of scenarios has been requested by anon!

𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

“Oh, sorry!” Aether rubs his neck as he realises what just happened. A pair of freshly dried sweaters had to have gotten mixed. And yes, the two of you own the exact same hoodies. The same size, the same embroidered details. The sole reason as to why you’re surviving is that they’re marked. 

“That’s alright,” You reply, putting Aether’s sweater on. 

It’s equally comfortable. Slightly warm from the dryer as the floral scent envelops you. And yet, it doesn’t smell exactly like yours. Perhaps some of Aether’s own scent has gotten itself into the fabric? That’s the sole explanation. 

The blond seems to mirror your move, taking the florals in. Oh, how cute. With a dishevelled braid and nose snuggling into the sleeve, Aether looks like a baby. Even more babies than usual. 

“Oh, Ae…” You coo, cupping his face. “You look adorable!” Your cheeks are so stiff from how big your smile has gotten. It’s like… like you’ve been shone by a sun child.

Aether leans back, his doe eyes trying to follow your movement. He’s slightly pouting, unhappy with being treated like a child. “I’m not.” He says it, but on the inside, he’s enjoying all the attention.  

In sickness and health, you shall share the hoodies until the death. 

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈

“You’ll catch a cold.” You whisper. The jacket that was around your shoulders mere moments ago is now keeping Venti warm. It sounds exactly like a situation he’d end up in — shivering during a walk and waiting for his saviour (you) to swoop in. 

“Thank you,” Venti’s voice is equally hushed. His cheeks are tinted pink. It’s both the ‘sheer’ cold of the outside mixed with how romantic your gesture is. Making sure their beloved is not freezing to death, how chivalrous! “I appreciate it, Muse.” 

You nod. Taking a step back, you evaluate the situation. Your partner, wrapped in your jacket, as he’s snuggling into the collar. Adorable. Simply adorable. 

“You’re staring…” Venti giggles, catching you off guard. The smile gracing your pretty face is now quite sheepish. He wasn’t supposed to know you’re watching. Alas, Venti is Venti. He knows. He will use his knowledge against you. 

He envelops you in a hug. “Oh, don’t be angsty, Lovie…” The scent is quite overwhelming. Your perfume, his perfume, the laundry detergent. It’s all a tad bit too much. You try and lean back. Getting air into your lungs. “Nononono—“ Venti pouts, leaning into you.

What a cat he is. Ironic, really. He leans so close that you can feel your legs giving out. Heavens, when Venti wants… he can be such a cutie pie. Your jacket is only a plus. 

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

“Does it look okay?” Xiao turns around, about to present you with his masterpiece. Well, it’s your shirt, but he can take the credit here. 

Jokes aside, he looks stunning. With his hair pushed back, the cuffs to the black shirt and some smart slacks… Damn, is he hot. He desperately needs more button-downs like these. It's not like he'll wear them without an occasion. Perhaps Xiao would consider one making you happy? 

“Close your mouth.” He rolls his eyes. Your eyes say a simple thing — starstruck. As much as Xiao is aware of his… pleasant appearance, getting this reaction from you cannot but make his little heart flutter. “A fly will fly…” 

You cover your mouth with your hands. You’re realising you haven’t said anything yet. But, oh my heavens, how can you describe what you’re thinking. Degenerate. A degenerate is what you are. An art gallery. That’s where you have to stick to Xiao. 

On the other hand, you don’t want anyone to look at him. Especially when he looks like that. Taking a picture. Maybe three thousand. You could have an art gallery at home. Perhaps you should think about buying some beautiful frames? Only the best for Xiao’s grace. 

“You look nice.” You say with a smile, yet downplaying the reality. 

“With how you’re looking at me,” Xiao raises an eyebrow. “I think it’s a little more than nice.” 

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

It’s absolutely the worst feeling. You swear you’re going crazy. Your sock cabinet, for no particular reason, is empty. You see your socks in the wash. They don’t disappear in the washing machine, you’ve checked. Hell, you’ve even attempted an exorcism on the thing one time. 

You sigh, digging around again. Maybe if you pray enough, the sock gods will answer. 

“Babe,” Heizou’s voice is muted — coming from downstairs. The two of you have made plans and should have left by now. It’s especially annoying since the shoes you planned on wearing simply require socks. A single barefoot, and you’re risking blisters for weeks. “You ready yet?” He shouts some more. 

“Almost! Looking for socks!” You shout back, growing more frustrated by the minute. You can hear the footboards creaking. Is Heizou coming to help you? 

The door to your room flies open, showing an amused redhead. “If you wanted to stay home badly, you could’ve said so…” He sighs, looking around the room. You’re there, pitiful on the floor. The entirety of your cupboards open. “Wait, you’re seriously looking for socks.” 

The surprise in his voice shocks you. Is he not plagued with a sock monster of his own? You look at Heizou’s own shoes… and socks. Now, hold on?! 

“Are these my socks?” You ask rhetorically.

“Yeah?” He answers. “Is it a big deal?” So your socks haven’t gone missing. They haven’t entered a separate dimension. They just were… in Heizou’s drawers. You take a deep breath. “Heizou, I exorcised the washing machine, looking for my socks.”

“No fucking shot, dude.”

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

“But you have so many of them already!” Your hands are on your hips as you stare at your partner. Kazuha’s grabby hands have managed to finally lie themselves on your lucky hat. 

You still don’t understand this habit of his. Sure, this might be the first time you’re the victim, but… All the apology letters you’ve forced him to write? Worrying. 

Kazuha says he cannot help it. There are these two little brain cells telling him to just… take the hats. He appreciates all the details of the hats. The materials used, the tiny decor, the smell. It’s all comforting. 

“Oh, but love…” His voice is meek. The pleading one. The one he uses solely when he wants to get something. And with how whipped you’re for the man, it’s a given. You’ll break one way or another. “We’re not even going anywhere.” 

That’s right, you’re not. Maybe… maybe, just maybe, you could give it for some time? Kazuha will be pleased, and you’ll have the situation under control. At the very least, it’s not the property of a stranger. Not to mention, you’re sure he will return it the second he’s done. 

“Okay, okay…” You sigh. Kazuha has won. There’s this pleasant smile plastered on his face. A tad adorable and quite smug. And well, he does look nice in the hat, doesn’t he. 

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑

“These are mine.” You say, coldly. You’ve barely started the day and you’re already upset. You’ve had two things planned for today — wearing your comfiest house pants and having a cup of coffee first thing. Recently, work took out everything from you. You… needed the break. 

“Should’ve woken up first, idiot.” Wanderer barely acknowledged your presence when you stormed into the kitchen. Not only is he wearing the comfy pants but he’s drinking the most bitter of coffees. It’s like he wants to replace you to live your ideal day. 

It’s maddening. A pout makes it itself onto your face, matching the ‘sour-ness’ in which your brows are furrowing. If he plans on stealing your pants like a child, you’ll just behave like one. “You’re so mean!” You yell, stomping your feet. A tantrum, that’s what he’ll have. 

“What are you? Five?” Wanderer raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. There’s this glint in his eyes — the one where he’s amused to no end. You place your hands on your hips. Now you really look like an angry baby. All because he stole your trousers. “Get a grip, you.” 

“Give the pants back.” Your voice is loud and clear. Until you receive your pants back, you’ll get on his nerves. “I bought them.” “He stops, pointing at you. He’s telling you to quit it. Not a chance, mister. 

On the other hand… What if you just steal his instead. Eye for eye, a pair for pair. 

𝐈𝐅𝐀

“Is it really okay?” Ifa, asks with worry written all over his face. He tugs on the sleeves, clearly enjoying the plush material. His hair is soaking wet. A towel is placed on his shoulders. A typical, yet unfortunate, aftermath of getting caught in the rain. 

“It's all good, silly.” You say asking him to bend down. The moment he leans, you grab his towel to dry his hair. In all honesty, you could care less Ifa's wearing your sweater. Not only is it made from natural material, but the colour brings out his eyes. “It suits you.” You murmur, fighting a smile. 

A smile is not the sole thing you’re duelling against. You can feel how your cheeks feel warmer. Ifa… really does look nice. And now he gets to smell a little more like you. Like home. 

Is this what it's like for others to see their partner in their clothes? No wonder all fictional boyfriends allow their hoodies to be stolen. Maybe you should rummage through Ifa’s closet yourself. He’d probably let you take anything you desire. You rub the towel through his pretty hair, soaking all the cluttered water.

“You’re adorable,” He chuckles, lacing his fingers with yours. It’s like he knows exactly what’s on your mind. Is— Is it really that visible? Ifa’s not the one to have figured out mind reading already, you think. 

date of posting — june 25th 2025

[sloaneispunk]

"peach"

vampire!remmick x vamipre!reader

summary: you were the one who turned remmick and after that, he couldn’t seem to leave you alone. he craved and yearned for your attention, always.

the first few nights, you were simply testing boundaries. you took note when remmick left the house and when he came back, what his schedule was like.

luckily for you, he always returned home by the break of sunset.

remmick lived alone. no wife, no kids. absolutely perfect.

you never spent as much time stalking and watching your prey as much as you did to remmick but he was special. your paths had crossed when you bumped into him whilst fleeing his town after feeding. when your eyes met, you felt a surge of electricity run through your body.

you knew you had to have him.

that night, you carefully creeped onto his porch, sucking in a breath before knocking on the door three times.

within seconds, the door flung open, revealing him in only his towel tied loosely around his waist. your eyes wandered on their own. from his perfect carved chest, to his muscular arms that leaned against the doorway.

“what’s a pretty thing like you wandering late all alone?” remmick questioned, eyes scanning your surroundings in search of others.

“i’m terribly sorry, mister. but i seem to be lost.” you lied, giving him your best act.

“lost? where ya tryna get to, peach?”

“i-i’m not sure either, you see i was supposed to meet a friend of mine but, hell, i can’t seem to find my way.” you let out a defeated laugh.

he was charmed.

a beautiful woman on his front porch asking for directions, was he dreaming?

“what’s your name, sugar?”

“i’m y/n, mister…?”

“remmick. we can drop the formalities, no need for them now do we?” he chuckled as you smiled.

“i guess not… say, remmick? d’ya mind if i come in? it’s pretty chilly out here and to be honest i’m terrified standing alone outside.”

he hesitated.

“i won’t be long.” you tried to convince him.

with one last look of the meadows, he nodded. “c’mon in, sweetheart. let’s get ya warmed up.”

bingo.

as soon as you stepped into his home, you breathed in the atmosphere. you almost felt sorry for the devious ruse you used on his kind soul.

“you thirsty? can i get you something to drink?” you heard him call out as he walked into the kitchen.

he heard no response.

“y/n?”

still no response.

remmick placed the cup down, scurrying back into the living room, worried that something had happened to you. instead, he found you leaving over his fireplace, way too close for comfort as you hummed to yourself.

“you alright? i tried callin’ for ya but-”

“shh…” you cut him off, finger brought to your lips. “…c’mere.”

he was struck with confusion but he complied anyway.

it was so silent, the air was thick, the only thing that filled the silence was the fire crackling and the creak of the floorboards as he made his way to you.

“are you happy, remmick?” you asked him, now face to face.

“what do you mean?”

“i said, are you happy? and don’t lie to me, remmick. i can tell if you are.” you frowned, faking a pout.

he noticed how your whole demeanour had changed. what was once a scared and timid girl standing on his porch seeking refuge now confident and cocky in his living room.

but he wasn’t scared…he was intrigued.

“y-yes.”

you took a step closer, your breath fanning his face.

“bad boy. what did i say about lying?”

he gulped.

“would you like to be happy?”

“already am right now with you in front of me.”

you couldn’t believe it.

remmick was the first person that you’ve met that wasn’t on the verge of pissing their pants when you approached them. it was fascinating.

“d’ya mind if i show you something?” you asked again.

“don’t mind at all, ma’am.”

you grinned, taking a step back, you shut your eyes. there was a moment of silence. when you reopened them, they were glowing orange. the grin you had had become devilish as your fangs showed.

you heard an audible gasp from him, but he still wasn’t backing away.

“what are you?” he asked, his tone laced with fascination.

you cocked your head to the side. “you’re not scared that i’m a monster?”

then, remmick dropped to his knees. “i think you’re the most enchanting thing ever, peach.”

your hands found their way to his face, gently stroking his cheeks as he leaned into your touch.

“would you like to be one?”

“yes.” there was no uncertainty.

that was all the consent you needed from him. you leaned down, your mouth going to the flesh of his neck, pausing for a moment before you sunk your teeth into him.

he let out a wince but kept still, letting you feed off of him as much as you wanted.

“so sweet.” you cooed, licking his wound when you were finished. placing a kiss on his cheek, you stooped down to his level. “now you’re one of us.”

ever since that night, remmick has been crazy over you. he was like a puppy following it’s owner around everywhere they went, he was head over heels.

it was always- “whatd’ya need, sugar?” or “ehere you going, peach?”

you couldn’t lie, you loved it.

but when there was news of a new place opening up one evening, oh, you wanted it bad.

rumour had it that a pair of twins had opened a ‘jukebox’ and there was gonna be plenty of people to feed on.

remmick wanted to accompany you and the other vampires to the joint but you wouldn’t allow it. afterall, these brother’s weren’t to be messed around with.

“for the last time, remmick. no means no.” you told him off sternly, but he kept persisting.

“c’mon peach, i don’t wanna miss out on the fun.” he whined, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips.

“rem-”

“y’know i’ll do anythin’ ya want. just say the words and i’ll get it done for you, sugar.”

you rolled your eyes playfully at the man. god, he was gonna kill you one day.

“are you gonna get them to let you in with your charm?” you teased.

“that’s all you, baby. i got another way in.”

remmick gathered a pair of vampires with him, they carried instruments as you stood close by, waiting by your car as you watched them approach the door.

from where you were, you couldn’t make out much of the conversation. but you stifled a laugh when the trio started to sing a song, trying to convince the people to let them pass the threshold of the joint.

but it didn’t seem to work as remmick jogged back to you with no invite.

“aw, what happened?” you purred as he slung his arm over you, letting out a sigh.

“they wouldn’t buy it.”

you laughed, throwing your head back as remmick admired.

“follow me. watch and learn, baby.”

you brough remmick and the couple to the side of the road, waiting patiently for mary.

“howd’ya know she’ll be comin?” he asked.

“trust me, she will.”

just in time, a woman dressed in a white silk dress came walking in your direction.

“what are you doing here?” you called out, playing dumb.

“oh, nothing. i just came out to see if you were nice folks is all.” she replied, giving you a smile.

“well, i don’t know if you would consider us nice, but i do have somethin’ for ya.”

“oh yea? what is it?”

mary slumped onto the empty space next to you, her face on her palms as she watched intensely.

you picked up a small banjo from the ground and started to play an old folk song- ‘will ye go lassie go’, singing along as not only mary watched, remmick too.

and gosh, he was in awe.

somehow you knew that this song was the key to breaking mary. the more you sang, the more she could feel herself slipping. it was like a sailor being lured by sirens.

you payed attention to the look in her eyes the longer the song went on. they were softening.

as the song came to its end, mary gave you a soft applause.

“so was the performace worth an invite in?” you half-jokingly asked.

“i can’t give you no promises, but i can surely try.” she replied, dusting herself off as she stood up, leading you back to the party.

you and remmick followed not too far behind her, carefully calculating your next steps.

“oh, hey, uh i think you forgot something.” you said, causing her to turn around.

but as she did, you lunged forward, biting into her neck with no mercy as blood began to spill out.

a few seconds later, you stepped back, turning to remmick to see the astonished look on his face.

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, leaning off the excess blood around your lips.

remmick was lost for words. he was overwhelmed was love and admiration for the woman that stood before him.

no matter how fucked up the whole situation was, he was infatuated with every single thing that you did.

“c’mon, we have a party to crash.” you giggled, taking his hand.

he was in for a long night.

[astoldbyaja]

Unbowed - 2 (Sinners 2025)

I watched as members of the Choctaw community and friends from the colored side of town, carried the sealed coffin toward the ground placing him in the ground. Some members of the church would sing a few hymns, then some of the Choctaw would chant and sing. All the while, my world was silent.

How will I survive without my husband? I have no money to my name; I took care of the small home we had. People will come to take the land. We could read and write, but I wouldn’t understand the big words people will come and tell me in order to swindle me out of my home. Elderly black women came and hugged me offering any resources they had to help me get by.

I didn’t have kids, and I wouldn’t gain any help from the government being not only a single woman with no kid, but a colored woman too. I feel the hand of Chayon on my back, and I looked at him. His eyes were soft and kind as he looked me over.

“Nysa.” he said gently. I looked up at him and nodded.

“Chayton.” I said softly. “Thank you for being here, you and your people. It really means a lot to me.” I said, and Chayton nodded.

“Of course. If there is anything you need anything at all, we are here for you.” he said. A young Choctaw man approached wearing black like the rest. He had innocent eyes, but I’ve seen him riding his horse around with Chayton and a few others in the past.

“Oh Nysa, you remember my cousin, Kene.” he said. I nodded gently.

“Yes of course, hello.” I replied, and Kene leaned in arms out and he embraced me.

“Nysa, I am so sorry for your loss.” he said. Every hug I received felt so welcomed and warmed. My heart still breaks however when they say it.

“Thank you.” I said gently trying to smile and show my appreciation, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile, not anymore. My reason for smiling is being put in the ground. The sound of a truck approaching made the three of us turn toward the road to see a pickup truck approaching. A white couple was in it. Chayton and Kene’s eyes harden on the truck, their eyes showing mistrust.

“Friends of your husbands?” Chayton asked his voice low, and his eyes hard. I could see the couple inside. Max and Wendy Arson. They were from way on the other side of town. They moved from the city and had money.

“They’ve talked at my husband before.” I replied softly. My husband had to water down his skills of furniture making when it came to white folks. We didn’t trust them at all. Their hatred gets the rest of us killed.

“Doesn’t sound like friends to me.” Chayton said the obvious disapproval in his tone. I gave the two men polite nods and excused myself to go see what this couple wanted. I approached the truck and while Mr. Arson got out the truck, Wendy stayed in her spot. The man took his hat off and placed it to his chest.

“Afternoon Miss Nysa.” he said. I nodded gently at him.

“Hello Mr. Arson… Mrs. Arson.” I replied. The woman nodded.

“Nysa.” She said.

“The missus and I wanted to pay respect to your husband… he was a good boy.” he said. I felt my heart in my hand at his words.

“A real good boy.” Mrs. Arson said with her nose in the air. I kept my eyes down and nodded.

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Arson.” I replied, although heavily mourning, I still had to show my respect.

“We wanted to come and see if you’ve made any arrangements about the property and the house…” he said. I nodded glancing up at him.

“Talkin’ with kin about those matters, sir.” I replied. He nodded.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be in need of a job… we’re looking for a maid to tend to our house. Maybe you come by and work a few hours, make some money to stay afloat.” he said. I felt like I would throw up. I wanted to outright reject him. How dare they show up here during such times.

“Thank you, sir. I will have to think about it.” I said trying to sound gracious and grateful. I see Mr. Arson look over my shoulder and his chest tightens some. Before I could wonder what, the matter was, Chayon was there. He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. Mrs. Arson doesn’t hide her curiosity of the tall Choctaw. She squirms a bit in her seat, and I looked up at Chayton.

“Service is continuing ma’am. Would you folks like to join us?” he asked looking at the couple. Mr. Arson placed his hat on his head giving him a dismissive look.

“No.” was all he said, and he began to get into his truck. Chayton doesn’t look away as the couple drives away. He then looked down at me and I looked up at him.

“What did they want?” he asked finally removing his arm from my shoulder.

“To pay their respects and offer me a job.” I said lowly. His body stiffened and he turned me back toward the service. We had a reception at my home where many women were in my kitchen cooking and talking. I sat down in the living room while many came to talk and sit with me. Some spoke about how they met my husband.

“He saw one of my cows going into labor and came to help bring my calf into the world.”

“He gave me son his very first dresser. He ain’t never have one of those before. Charged me only 5 dollars.”

“One of my horses got free and nearly hit his truck, he managed to get the wild beast back to my farm.”

I felt my heart sinking into my stomach, but slowly hearing the stories made me… content. Miles was a great man, even in a world that was trying to destroy him, he found a way to see the light in the darkness of Jim Crow. Seeing these people talk about him shows me how good of a man he was not just to me, but to others. Chayton spoke a few words and many quieted to listen.

“Miles Carrington was a good a man. I first met him coming back from… a very scary journey one night. I was being hunted a pack of wolves, and I was outnumbered. But I see the lights of a truck, and he appears. I tell him to get to safety that these wolves are very dangerous, but he takes out his shot gun ready to defend me until my tribesmen came to ward off the wolves. I asked him what a carpenter was doing out so late in the dangerous world of the night…” he said and looked at me with a strong gaze. “And he said he was bringing his wife home her favorite sweets from the store. She was having a bad day, and he wanted to get her something nice.”

Tears streamed down my face as I remembered Miles coming home that night with my favorite chocolates, because the garden that I was trying to start was failing miserably. Chayton looked down some.

“Miles Carrington was not just a good husband, but he was a good human being, and I was proud to call him my friend.” he said.

My eyes closed softly as tears streamed down my face. Many gently patted and rubbed my shoulders in support.  Chayton raised his glass.

“To Miles.” he said.

“TO MILES!” everyone said in unison. Everyone ate, talked and eventually left. The last people remaining was Chayton and his band of men who stuck around. I walked Chayton to my door and looked up at him.

“Thank you again for coming Chayton.” I replied. I had said that sentence so many times, it felt meaningless at this point. He nodded once.

“Of course… will you be alright here on your own?” he asked. I wanted to say yes, but we both know I didn’t know anything right now.

“I have a shot gun, and I know how to use it if needed.” I replied. He nodded gently.

“Me and some of the tribe will be looking in on you. I don’t feel right leaving a woman here on her own… God knows what evil would love to pray on mourning women.” he said. I nodded thankful for his kindness.

“I appreciate that Chayton… I don’t want to put you out, your tribe is a priority, I don’t mind being last on that list.” I replied. He shook his head as I spoke.

“You and your husband were always welcome on our reservation, and that will not change now.” he said. I nodded and gave a warm smile before he leaned in and embraced me. I felt the tightness of his arms around me, and I leaned up and embraced him back.

“Thank you.” I said softly, his foresty scent wafting through my nose. He pulled back and nodded.

“Lock your doors, let no one into your home.” he said, a gentle warning, which of course would make sense. No strangers needed to know I was here by myself.

“Of course.” I replied as I walked him to the door and finally the last guest of the house left.

[lovelywooz]

Knife’s Edge

Heyy :D I've been writing this for over a year so I hope it's good! People always find my shameful posts right away in the jungwoo tag. I don’t think he knows how to use tumblr though so I’m safe! ;) Sorry that it’s a multi-part btw, but I wanted to get some of it out already, nearly done with the rest!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (Coming Soon)

Word Count: 7,305

Warnings: Smut, kissing, biting, fingering, kitty eater jungwoo agenda that I’m pushing, knife mentioned but it’s in the title too, themes of violence

Mr. Kim Jungwoo, your best friend, is anything but killer. His bright smile, eccentric personality, and playful touchiness certainly make you swoon but... a psychopath? Lesson learned: Beware the man under the mask.

“CUT!”

Camera directors and makeup artists alike sigh with relief at the end of another long filming day. Your co-star gleefully makes his way toward you in a way that could only be described as ‘bouncing’. He takes the, very dull, prop knife he’s been holding and playfully pokes your side with it. Playing along, you wail exaggeratedly in pain and slowly sink to the floor. The laugh that worms it way out of your dear friend is your reward.

Over the years your careers have grown together. You were two zombie extras in the background, then two office workers with one line each, then you played two siblings at a snack stand, and so on. While your career took off after landing a role as the ‘supportive but delusional best friend’ in a weekly sitcom, Jungwoo simultaneously grew to stardom off a Netflix series where he plays a ‘naive soccer player’… who gets murdered in the third episode. He was a hit nonetheless, no doubt due to his pretty face and personality. Despite colorful careers, the current project “Demon in Disguise” is the first time you’ve both been awarded lead roles. 

But, let’s start at the beginning.

You can recall the night casting was finalized. You were so nervous and excited at the prospect of a lead role that you didn’t tell anyone, except your agent Minju of course, that you had auditioned.

The two of you held hands and put the casting director on speaker phone when he called.

“Hello, this is Kim Mingyu of Seventeen Entertainment. I understand you’ve been waiting to hear from us regarding your audition?”

“Yes that’s correct”! Your palms have begun to sweat.

“Excellence. I’m pleased to inform you our esteemed director is a fan of your work and wants to offer you the part”.

Minju muted the phone to squeal and run around the room in glee.

“Um. Hello?” Mingyu chirps from the other end of the line.

Hushing Minju, you unclick the mute button. “Apologies my service must have cut out for a second. Yes, I would be happy to take the role! If I may ask, have you decided any other cast members yet?”. 

“Fantastic. I’ll inform the director, he’ll be thrilled” he shuffles with some papers in the background, “Yes we’ve actually picked the Psychopath you’ll be working with. Called him earlier this morning. We know that you’ve worked with him on screen before; Kim Jungwoo?” 

A mix of confusion and happiness washed over you in that moment. “Y-yes! I’m very comfortable with him so that’s great”. 

“Perfect. I’ll give your agent a call with the filming schedule in due time”. 

You hand the phone back to your agent so she can wrap up the conversation. You should be excited about this. On the big screen with your closest friend? That’s once in a lifetime. The realization sets in as soon as Minju hangs up the phone. 

“So… romance drama with your ‘best friend’ huh?” She slinks back over to the chair next to you with a smug look on her face. 

“The sample script said Crime. Thriller. How could I have known it would develop into something like that?” You bury your face in your hands, “and my other concern is that, well…”

“You think Jungwoo isn’t exactly ‘killer’ material?” Minju always reads your mind. “I know the boy is a bit of a space cadet, but he is an actor for a reason. Maybe he’ll surprise you”. She winks and leaves to fill out some paperwork on her laptop. 

After the initial shock rolls over, you send a text to your dear friend. 

Me - (9:52 PM) Did you, by chance, get casted today hmm? 

ZEUS :) - (9:57 PM) … how did you know that (,,>_<,,) 

Me - (9:57 PM) Guess who’s playing the detective 

You’re answered not by a text but by a video call invitation, which you accept. 

“Are you for real?!” Jungwoo’s entire face is taking up the screen so you can only see his raised eyebrows and sparkling eyes. 

“I’m being so serious. Minju and I just got off the phone with the director!”

Jungwoo makes some excited sounds and puts the phone to his chest to tell whomever he’s with that, “She got the other part. I was just talking about that! That’s so crazy”.

In the background you can hear Hyungwon’s distinctive snickering laugh, but you can’t make out what he’s saying over your friend’s loud and aggressive shushing. He lifts the phone once more and you can see he’s at the gym based on his signature beanie, white T-shirt, and you’re assuming he’s wearing his lucky grey sweatpants.

The lack of TV makeup gives him this perfectly-imperfect glow that can’t be replicated by any foundation or BB cream. Almost like he’s lit from within. He copies your skincare routine yet somehow he’s never had so much as a zit.

“Hyungwon is here by the way. I can’t believe our first leads are in the same drama, how touching”he fake cries for a second, which makes you chuckle and roll your eyes. “Anyways I’ll talk to you later, gotta start beefing up if I’m gonna look scary. Bye bye~”.

“See ya!” Beep. 

As soon as the script finished printing Minju dropped you off at your luxury apartment. Your nightly routine went by quickly due to your excitement. All those years of hard work are finally paying off for you and your best friend. In the entertainment world chances like this are few and far between. Which means you have to be absolutely captivating if you want to keep your spot amongst the superstars.

You recall your college acting coach’s advice while you wash up, “nobody wants to watch two strangers fish kiss on screen, real chemistry is critical when it comes to romance”. Your cheeks heat up underneath the foamy soap, “if you’re having trouble ‘warming up’ to your co-star: picture them on top of you. Or you on top of them if you prefer! Damn if that doesn’t spark something or other”. You can hear his hearty laugh clear as day still taunting you.

Flopping down on your bed you toss and turn under the covers, attempting to get comfortable. What a ridiculous piece of advice. You don’t dare close your eyes. If you have to see Jungwoo… like that…

“God this is so embarrassing!” Huffing, you flip into your side and stare holes into the pillow beside you. “This is stupid. This is your job for crying out loud”. Surely it’s harmless right? Just an exercise of your imagination? Not as if you’ve never hugged him or touched him before- he’s your best friend for Pete’s sake. The overthinking drains you enough to close your eyes and drift into a peaceful sleep, a welcome respite from your thoughts. 

_

The warmth of lips on your neck wakes you. When you open your eyes your view is blocked by a cloud of familiar brown hair. Not that you could make out much in the darkness of your bedroom anyways.

“Woo? Mmm, what are you doing?” The scrape of his teeth across your neck gives you goosebumps as he hums lowly in response. Any pain is quickly soothed by his plush lips again.

While you are certainly confused, the situation is not unpleasant. His mouth is leaving abstract shapes all over the exposed skin above your chest. Your legs are tangled together and his warm body makes it seem as if the whole room is filled with him. His gourmand perfume with the subtle tinge of sandalwood bewitches your senses. You detect a bit of salty musk, likely from the gym earlier. Not that you minded.

Post-workout man smell is practically a pheromone.

A warm hand sliding slowly up your shirt catches your attention, his thumb gently caressing your stomach. Your breath hitches. Your lover raises his head to look into your eyes and you whimper at the lust within them. It’s as if all his attention is focused on nothing else but your pleasure. Your foreheads connect as he presses his thigh up against your throbbing heat. You barely stifle your gasp, “Jungwoo… please-“.

His lips touch your temple sweetly as he whispers “When I took the job as your agent, I didn’t sign up to be your mother too.”

… What did he say? This time the man sits up completely before chastising you, “Get up already!”

_

Your lids fly open and register Minju’s stern glare. “I thought you said you were going to set an alarm? This is why I arrive early to pick you up.” She makes her way to the bedroom door with a huff, car keys gripped in her hand. “You’ve got 20 minutes to get ready for the script reading today. Get. Up!”.

Scrambling out of bed you rush to the sink to brush your teeth, wash your face, and make the best of your bed-head. Thank goodness you showered last night and just need a little zhuzhing. Stepping into your sweatpants you root around for a t-shirt to wear. “You have 30 seconds!” Minju yells down the hallway.

“Alright! Okay- hang on a sec!” Finally you find a random oversized black tee to throw on. Grabbing your bag and slipping into your shoes you race out the door, turning and locking it behind you. 

The drive to the entertainment building was quite uneventful. It’s Minju’s turn to set the playlist and you hummed and sang along to her tunes. What a relief to have an agent you get along so well with. You could ask Minju for just about anything and she’d be there for you. She coolly flashes her badge to security and parks the car.

On the way up to the reading room, you stop to use the restroom. Passing by the large mirror into a stall, you finally have a moment to process your dream before work begins. “What the hell was that?”, you shake your head and rub your face. Moreover, how are you supposed to look him in the eye today?

You’d never deny that your dear friend was attractive. He’s got a face Aphrodite would be jealous of; this entrancing aura surrounding him. He’s had no shortage of women and men alike vying for his attention, unbeknownst to him ironically.

So why now? Why before the single most important roles of your careers? Why before you have a dozen cameras filming every moment in multiple angles? Why did your heart pick now to start… feeling things.

Finishing up your business, you exit the privacy of your stall and wash your hands at the sink by the large mirror. You check your appearance and freeze. Oh my god. The automatic faucet shuts off leaving you in tense silence. I’m wearing his shirt.

Sure enough, the black shirt you mindlessly swiped from your dresser in haste indeed belongs to Jungwoo. Not only that, but your nose picks up on a faint but familiar scent. Vanilla and sandalwood… in your mind’s eye you recall his piercing gaze-

“Stop.” Smacking your flushed cheeks seems to bring you back to reality. Quickly, you exit the restroom leaving your depraved visions behind in favor of the task at hand. 

You take your seat next to Minju and scan the room. There are at least a dozen writers and five other actors and actresses, some of whom you recognize and some you’ve never seen before. No major stars though. This is to be expected, it’s your first lead role after all. Clearly this production is confident enough in their story to give some underrated performers a chance. 

“Wow. I thought I was supposed to be the criminal” even with a bucket hat and a face mask, his tall proportions betray his identity. Jungwoo stands behind your chair and tugs at your clothes, “you stole my shirt”.

You brush away his hand as nonchalantly as you can muster, “Finders keepers. Next time you drunkenly Uber to my apartment: sleep with your shirt on.” You poke his arm back as he giggles.

“Okay fine! You can have it I’ve got a million t-shirts anyways” his touch lingers on your shoulders for a moment, and he laughs before heading over to his seat next to his manager Mr. Suh. No matter how many times he asks you to just call him ‘Johnny’ his stern resting expression lends itself better to formality. Jungwoo of course has no problem messing around with him whatsoever.

The production meeting ends and the script packets are distributed for each actor to study. Arriving back at your apartment in the late afternoon, you decide to take the rest of the evening to knock out reading the script. Typically you liked to get ahead of it.

Flipping page after page, you pause multiple times during your reading to take a deep breath.

This drama was almost certainly based on some dirty fan fiction the writers worked up. No wonder there’s no blockbuster names involved. While not totally explicit- this is South Korea after all- it’s not difficult to read between the lines.

The story involves a young detective desperately searching for answers as to why her ex-boyfriend went missing. She’s worked countless cases, but this one was personal. She’ll do anything and face any danger to bring the perpetrator to justice.

Meanwhile her plucky assistant has been ‘keeping the bed warm’. What she doesn’t realize is he’s merely trying to throw her off his trail. For you see, the assistant was the killer all along. He’s responsible for a string of unsolved murders, all of whom he became involved with before they were found dead. But this time is different. He seeks not merely to kill the detective, but to own her very being. The rest of those women were nothing but toys to him, but her? She’s special. He wants her to follow him, willingly. And if he can’t have her? Well. Then nobody can. 

It’s a classic trope but to be honest, you can’t tell how it’s going to end. Will she find out the assistant is the killer before it’s too late? If she does, will he kill her before he gets locked up? The writers put their hearts, souls, and dirty fantasies into this one.

You flop the slab of papers onto your nightstand, turning the bedside lamp off and plunging into darkness. Your thoughts roll back to Jungwoo just before your mind shuts off for the day. You can’t believe filming starts tomorrow already. 

_

A call interrupts your research. You recognize the extension and debate whether to force him to leave a message. You’re so close to a breakthrough in this case; you can feel it. You can’t afford any distractions, even the fun ones. But you just can’t help yourself. Maybe he really does need an account code or something this time.

Snatching the receiver off the hook, you tuck it between your shoulder and your ear “this had better be good.”

“Chief, I heard you need my help… down there?” The implication behind the question makes you blush. That’s always his code for when there’s more than a ‘work favor’ on the table. Obviously he can’t spell out what he’s suggesting over a monitored phone line.

To everybody else, it sounds like your overachieving personal assistant is being summoned to make copies or something in the lower floor of the investigative department. You’re already a little hot under the collar, the stress of the investigation begging to be snuffed out if only for a little while.

But, you must stay focused. “I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

“Chief, don’t work so hard” his tone dips into something sugary sweet and sultry, “I’ll be down there quickly. I promise”. 

“Cut. Great work you two” your director turns to talk to the lighting crew leaving you to your thoughts. Director Jihoon may be small, but he commands a set like no other. For such a little guy, he sure has a confident stride.

You’d read this scene last night so you know what’s coming next. Already your face feels like it’s melting off. And it must be because the makeup team flocks over to you in a whirlwind of powder, lip tints, and blushes. 

Once the makeup fairys are satisfied with your look, they swarm Jungwoo as he makes his way towards you. He clears his throat while they clean his fake glasses and roll up the sleeves of his crisp white button down shirt. “You ready?” You nod mutely and giggle a bit at the way he is scolded for moving during his lip makeup. He’s blushing a bit too, nothing a little powder won’t fix. 

You’re glad that if you’re doing this, it’s with him. You’ve known each other all this time, yet you’ve never so much as gossiped about any sexual escapades. Neither of you have ever done anything this… racey in front of each other. Much less in front of a camera. Still, it’s nice to be paired with someone you know and trust, rather than a total stranger or some veteran actor who’s secretly a creep. 

“Clear the set please. Places!”

You gulp down the lump in your throat as you step back into the desk behind you. Jungwoo shuffles over and invades your personal space. It’s so painfully awkward but neither of you are brave enough to admit it. You rest your hands on his arms in the proper placement for the scene. Of course you notice how firm his biceps are. The gym is really paying off… okay not helping.

“Hold! Lighting problem. Sit tight love birds.” The director shimmies off his chair and walks to some unknown location. Honestly you’re grateful for the extra time to compose yourself. 

“Hey, don’t worry” you peek your head up at your partner, “Just play pretend and have fun with it. I won’t judge you.” Jungwoo mutters to you.

“You’re not nervous?” You whisper back. The production team is preoccupied with the light fixtures and you doubt they would be able to hear your conversation, but keeping the volume low seems fitting. It feels suitably… intimate considering your situation.

“Me?” He huffs a laugh, “Of course I am. But if it looks real, we only have to do this once”. Some additional lights flicker on as the director shouts once again for places. Jungwoo quickly adds, “Sorry if I hurt you by accident okay?” You only have time to nod in response. 

“Action!” 

Your body is slammed onto your desk. Photos and documents flying in the air. The force of the tall boy knocks the wind and the courage out of you.

It’s tempting to break character but you steel yourself and look up at him with as desperate a look as you can muster. Not in the script but he’s right, I gotta make it look real. You meet his gaze through half lidded eyes and by God you wish you hadn’t. 

Jungwoo loosens his tie with an expression you’re sure will end up in your dreams tonight. A veil of playful lust thinly concealing the twisted desires beneath. His glasses are nearly falling off his face, his hair is properly tousled thanks to the costume department, and his muscles are straining through the button down that’s one size too small. The smug look on his face nothing short of patronizingly sexy.

You don’t even notice the camera coming closer when he flattens his chest against yours.

“Chief, you’re still looking at that old case? Didn’t you hear it’s a dead end?” His long and nimble fingers trace their way to the top button of your shirt and pop it open.

“Y-you know what? I don’t recall asking for your input.” You reach down and tug at his belt buckle, attempting to knock it loose.

You make a show of throwing your head back a bit to try and hide some of your expression from Jungwoo. You’re barely even acting when you shudder at the fingers he cards through your hair.

“Don’t misunderstand Chief, I only want to help you. You’re so on edge lately” His tone is sinfully lovely. He cups your cheek, bringing you down to meet his eyes. “Let me help you relax. Okay?”. 

“Cut! I think we got it. Great work guys. Just some dialog left and we’ll call it a day.” 

Jungwoo scrambles off of you as if he’d touched a hot burner. You’d hit him for insulting you if not for the delirium you’re experiencing right now. You brush yourself off and straighten your clothes, attempting to recenter yourself. Your partner clears his throat.

“See,” he says “Only one take”. He winks and you gag exaggeratedly. His laugh makes you smile and eases the tension. Now that that scene is over your relief is immense. Your dialogue goes smoothly and you start to mingle with more of your costars. The filming day goes by in a breeze.

You lay down in bed freshly showered and excited to get back to the studio tomorrow. In due time, you drift off reflecting on your day. 

_

“You’re so pretty baby” Jungwoo mumbles into your thighs, dragging his tongue painstakingly slowly down towards your throbbing core. Occasionally dropping a kiss along the way. You try not to make any more embarrassing sounds. His crawling pace is torturous, he knows it too judging by that devilish smirk on his face.

“So pretty but such a tease. Wearing my clothes. Showing everyone you wanna be mine huh?” Shaking your head vehemently, you try to sit up but you’re quickly thwarted by a strong arm forcing your chest back down. “No? You weren’t? Don’t deny it sweetie. I actually like it”. He kisses your clit with each word, “I really,” Kiss. “Really.” Kiss. “Like it”. Finally, blessedly, his tongue swipes through your folds.

The moan that escapes you is nothing short of pornograpic. It fuels him more. His tongue draws circles around your clit before latching his lips around it. “Woo, oh my god please”. You’re not sure what you’re even pleading him for but he reassures you with a patronizing coo, “I’ll take care of you, just wanna make you feel good. My pretty girl, all mine.” His words would be so sweet if not for the subtle twist of possessiveness lacing them.

It’s so wrong. But it makes you squirm even harder under him. Practically grinding against his face, making his perfectly angled nose bump your sensitive spot. He pulls his mouth away and a string of spit connects him to your core. Fuck that’s… so hot. He looks drunk as he leans up to rest his head against yours, panting onto your face. You close your eyes, unable to take being so close to him in right now. His long gentle fingers circle your entrance, slowly but methodically working you up again. “Look at me sweetie.” You can’t. You really can’t this time. “I wanna see your eyes. Pretty please?” You know he can feel your core twitch. Why does he have to sound like that when he begs you?

“Come on honey no use being shy now, you’re already soaking me. Let me see you” You open your eyes timidly and stare into his chocolate colored ones. So many emotions swirl inside his irises: pleasure, devotion, pride. They’re staring into the depths of your mind and exposing desires you didn’t know existed. “There you go. Not so hard huh?” His digits sink their way into your heat. Your corrupted soul almost leaves your body.

Your eyes roll back and squeeze shut once again. His laugh would sound so innocent if not for the deeply depraved context. His mouth falls next to your ear again as his hand pumps faster and faster. “You gonna cum?” Breathlessly you nod. His knuckles brush against your insides with each thrust. Squelching noises could likely be heard in the next room over. “Orrr… Should I stop?” He giggles.

You death grip onto his arm, “No! Don’t, please just don’t stop” the noises you’re making could get a sex worker to blush.

“I’m only teasing honey don’t worry. I don’t intend to stop, you’ve been so good an all.” Darkness creeps into his voice. “Then again… I do like hearing you beg” He rubs your clit in circles with the pad of his thumb and you’re so so close. Can practically see the light.

“Woo please! Need it” you whine and thrash uncontrollably searching for some kind of extra contact. Anything to get you over that hill. 

Your alarm shocks your system. You feel like a bomb about to explode when you realize it’s time to get up. What the fuck. You were so close. Groaning in frustration, you reach over and turn off the evil device. You take your robe with you to the bathroom. Time to shock your system with an ice cold shower. 

_

Day two went by fast as well. You’ve established your character’s friendships and filmed a few action sequences. At the end of day, the writing team comes shuffling in like a pack of vultures. Mid-conversation with the second female lead you watch them hand over a freshly printed stack of papers to the director. The team of youngsters keenly watch as he reads the pages. Once he’s flipped the packet one last time, he nods in approval. Much to the visible satisfaction of the team. The director wobbles off his chair and slowly makes his way over to you and the other actors. He never looks up from his watch and nearly runs down several costume artists. When he does lift his head, he glances back and forth between you and Jungwoo several times. Eventually he settles on Jungwoo, walking over to where he’s seated across the set on some couch prop. You can’t hear what they’re saying from over here but you watch their interaction curiously. The director hands Jungwoo his mysterious packet of papers while he talks his ear off. Jungwoo’s back stiffens a bit and he clears his throat as the director explains what must be in that leaflet.

With each enthusiastic word from Jihoon his eyebrows raise higher. Eventually Jungwoo scratches the back of his neck sheepishly and, to your surprise, meets your eyes. You avert your gaze immediately but you still try to use your peripheral vision. All you catch is a nod from Jungwoo and a shoulder pat from the director. 

Now the short man is stalking towards you with determination. He starts speaking before he’s even entered your personal space, “Would you be open to an additional scene? We can spare the extra time but you’d have to do it in only a few takes”. He flits the stack of papers outward, “The writing team approached me” You take the papers from his outstretched hand and begin flipping through them. Nothing appears to have changed in the script except for one hand written paragraph scribbled in hastily:

Assistant and detective lie in bed, getting up to intimate activity *at discretion of cast* killer narrowly reveals themselves but plays it off. 

It’s hard to keep your cool with your face heating up like crazy. “At discretion of cast… so they want us to come up with something?” You shoot a deer in headlights look at your director.

“Listen it doesn’t have to be crazy explicit- this drama will air on national television after all.” He pushes up his glasses, “Your friend gave me his consent only on the condition that you’re alright with it.” This time it’s your turn to catch Jungwoo staring. When you glance his way he’s suddenly very, very intrigued by his shoes. “So how about it? Like I said I won’t force you”. Jihoon scratches his head. “But if I can be frank: adding this scene will make the chemistry between your characters make a lot more sense. Just comin’ from experience.” 

Maybe it’s the promise of making the drama a hit. Maybe it’s the chance of getting close to Jungwoo again. Somehow he gets you to agree. Before you know it, you’re squished next to each other on a tiny bed, storyboarding a sex scene, surrounded by cameras. It feels as absurd as it sounds.

Jihoon takes the reins, “We just need a raunchy, passionate shot to help fill in the blank for the audience.” He says this like it’s no big deal. The man scratches his chin lost in thought, then gestures to both of you. “How would you feel about kissing?” 

Coughing and choking erupts from the man next to you. His face was bright red. You hand him his water bottle from the table next to you without making eye contact.

Frankly you’re just as flustered at the suggestion as he is. Jihoon continues, “Okay maybe not a kiss yet then. Here’s a better idea: you lay on top of her, we’ll throw a blanket on you, get real friendly and that’s a wrap” Beeping from his trusty watch ends the conversation. “We don’t have much time” The director is already barking orders into his headset as he’s walks away. 

Jungwoo sighs next to you. Then he starts unbuttoning his shirt. What is he doing??

“Jungwoo! What on earth are you doing?” You cover your eyes in a scandalized manner. Not that you’d never seen his body at the beach or after a night of drinking. But it feels different- even looks different, now. His lean but muscular build seems more defined than before. And the way he unbuttons with one hand makes your thighs clench. He slides his sleeves off and drapes the crisp white shirt over a prop chair in the ‘bedroom’. Always so neat and tidy. 

“You saying you leave all your clothes on during the act?” Clearly he’s been working on his confidence as well as his body, seeing as he’s half naked in front of a dozen cameras and staff.

Unfortunately he does have a point. What kind of sex scene would everyone’s clothes be on? “Fine.” You sigh and grasp the hem of your shirt. You lift it just to your belly button before Jungwoo grabs your arm to stop you. 

“Wait- I was just kidding you don’t have to… do that” his forehead is creased with concern for you. His hand then covers yours unconsciously, “I can show enough skin for the both of us. Don’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with”. Jungwoo has always been a little protective of you. He pays for meals when you go out together, fixes your electronics with his technical knowledge, he even helps you put furniture together although you insist you can do it by yourself.

Nevertheless, you shrug off his concern this time. “I don’t mind, it’s just like being in a swimsuit right?” Before he can protest (or you lose your nerve) you’ve lifted your shirt over your head and flung it into the chair haphazardly. The set is a little cold and you can feel goosebumps start to rise on your exposed skin. “I’m not taking my bra off though. Not unless they pay me a pornstar salary!” you giggle sheepishly at your own joke.

Your bra in question is rather adorable today, you mentally thank yourself for wearing it to get that extra boost of confidence. It’s pale pink with red heart-shaped polkadots. Red lace wraps around the cups to hug the swell of your breasts flatteringly. Gotta love post-Valentine’s Day clearance sales. 

It’s funny. You’ve gone to the beach with Jungwoo before, many times actually, so he’s definitely seen you topless. But something about the atmosphere feels… different this time. It could be the fact that you’re sitting so close that your thighs are touching. Or that you both know loosely what you’re about to do. Either way the tension is palpable. A small familiar spark ignites in your lower body and you’re reminded of your titillating scene from yesterday. 

Against your better judgment, you try to cut the mood by tussling his hair some, leaning closer and quietly remarking that ‘it’s a little too perfect for supposedly being in the fit of passion’. His eyes don’t meet your face, he’s staring much lower. For some reason you feel a little swell of pride. 

Director Jihoon’s voice is heard over the loudspeaker, “Okay kids you’re up. Get under the covers and let’s get this done quick so we can all go home”. The tall man beside you shuffles towards the pillows and folds back the comforter on the bed. He gestures silently for you to get in under the covers and you nod a ‘thank you’ back.

Once your back hits the smooth and soft sheets he slips in next to you, then tosses the heavy blanket back over you both. It feels slightly domestic for a moment, crawling into bed together. Feeling the warmth of skin on skin when your bodies brush. He positions himself on top of you. Any and all bravado evaporates and you oblige your first instinct to close your eyes.

There’s no way you can look at him without giving away exactly what’s on your mind in this position. The dreams and thoughts you’ve been having. It’d be all too obvious. He hasn’t uttered a word since your shirt came off. Your curiosity at his silence makes you peek one eye open and once again you wish you hadn’t.

Jungwoo is a much better actor than you give him credit for. That confusing mix of love and evil from earlier has returned to his eyes. The cameras aren’t even rolling yet. Finally, he speaks. “I have an idea, but you’re going to have to trust me”.

You nod, “I do. Trust you, I mean”. You could’ve sworn his gaze fell on your lips for a split second. Not like you’re not stealing glances at his too. The position you find yourselves in is reminding you far too much of your dream last night. You’re certain if he brushed over your heat he could feel how wet you are at the thought. 

But. He’s your best friend. Right? This is all just an act. You’re just too immersed in your roles. It’s filtering into your dreams. That must be it. 

The director must’ve called action while you’re lost in thought. Long fingers lace in yours and your hands are pinned above you. Warm lips are pressed down your neck to your exposed collarbone. Your breath has picked up but you’re a little stiff from the shock.

Jungwoo kisses a path back up to whisper in your ear, “is this okay?”. You know his question is just for you, not the cameras, not the audience. His words turn the heat in your gut up to ten. He has no idea how much more than ‘okay’ this is.

All you have the courage to do is nod. He hums lowly and your toes curl up. “Tell me and I’ll stop alright?” He doesn’t wait for an answer this time and sinks his teeth gently into the base of your neck.

Forgetting time and place and person, you moan in pleasure. Suddenly it feels like you aren’t acting anymore.

His left arm slips under the small of your back to hold you as close as possible while his right hand traces down the side of your torso. With your wrists now free, you wrap your arms around his back and scratch gently at his shoulders. It appears to only egg him on harder and his hums turn to lust-laden groans. You’re not sure how you’ll ever go back to listening to his voice normally after you’ve heard what he supposedly sounds like going hard in bed.

Speaking of hard, you’re for sure feeling something poking your stomach. He has to know how crazy he’s making you. The dreams you’ve been having, and now this little stunt? His lips and tongue dragging along the exposed parts of your chest intensify this need. You need to kiss him so badly.

Your lustful mind starts imagining his mouth elsewhere and you squirm a bit at this thought, accidentally pushing your thigh up against his hard-on. His breath hitches.

Just brushing against your best friend’s boner he got from marking you up, perfectly platonic behavior. 

“Kihyun never made you feel this way did he?”

It took you a moment to remember what in the fuck he’s talking about. He’s breathing so hard you could hardly understand his line; playing it up for the camera. Very cute. And kinda hot. You stiffen up to deliver your next line, as the script dictates. 

“Never say his name. Ever.” You spit at him, enraged, and sit back on your elbows.

“Sorry, Chief. It was just- spur of the moment… I wasn’t thinking” there’s a suspicious lack of sincerity to his apology. He smiles at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Something isn’t adding up.

“Come on. I said I was sorry. I’ll make it up to you?” His hand cups your face in an attempt to change the subject and reel you back in. He leaves a warm, pleading kiss on your cheek.

Your assistant joined the team after Kihyun left the force and consequently, left you. It was sudden. Detective Yoo vanished without a trace. He left a note saying he was sorry but that he “had to go in order to keep you safe”. Whatever that meant. He walked out the door leaving you wondering what could’ve been all those years ago. And now your assistant seems to know him? 

“How do you know his name?” Silence. His once gentle hand twitches and lowers from your cheek. 

“The pictures on your desk of course. Also you and detective Yoo had a lot of joint paperwork in your file.” His voice is smooth, calm, rehearsed; but his fists clench tightly in the sheets. “I made an assumption that’s all”. 

You suppose that could make sense. The intimate life between you and Kihyun was technically a secret at the time, but you never could bring yourself to put the photos away after the breakup. And especially not now that he’s gone. It’s possible he could’ve put two and two together. 

“You’re shaking Chief. Let me take care of you” he wraps his arms around you in a hug. His hands tracing shapes up and down your back smoothly. His lips dragging kisses down the side of your neck. “Don’t think about those bad people any more. Just think about me, okay?”. Using the full weight of his body he pins you back down into the mattress to continue his onslaught. Another nip to your tender flesh pulls a pleasured sigh from your lungs. Your assistant has got you right where he wants you yet again. 

You’re enjoying yourself but deep down you can’t shake the nagging thought that Jungwoo is merely acting right now. That to him this could be inconsequential. A performance and nothing more. Then again: is it really possible to fake how rock solid he is against your lower body? 

“Cut! That’s a wrap for today” 

Back to reality. Right. 

This time, rather than recoil from you immediately, he takes his time detaching himself from you. Jungwoo sighs and lingers with his body wrapped around yours, if only for a moment. Then releases you from his embrace and rolls off of you, but he doesn’t come out from the covers just yet. 

Oh right, he can’t. Lest his little (big) Jungwoo be visible to the entire staff.

A smirk pulls at your lips before you can hide it. The taller man reaches over to the chair where your clothes had been thrown moments before and tosses your T-shirt in your general direction. 

Usually you’re the first person he finds after a long day of filming. You’ll talk about your lunch that day, your favorite scene, anything. But for the first time since you met, you fall into silence. It’s not uncomfortable necessarily. Rather, it feels as if both of you realize your paradigms have shifted. And how could they not? You always thought showbiz intimacy would be so awkward and forced, absolutely dreaded it your whole career. Something felt strangely natural about being chest to chest with your best friend… you’re not sure how to feel about that. 

Mr. Suh comes onto the set holding an oversized hoodie. He swipes the men’s button down off the chair and hands it to a costume designer, then throws the hoodie at Jungwoo’s face. “Let’s go, your mother is in town this week and I told her we’d be home by nine”. 

Jungwoo scoffs at his agent, “you’re talking to my mom without me?” He pulls the hoodie on over his head. Finally he gets out of bed, the hem of the garment being oversized enough to cover anything embarrassing. Mr. Suh is a real one.

“Well: She’s a very nice woman”.

“Yes she is my mother is an angel. But we both know you and your wife just want your grubby little paws on her cookie recipe”. Jungwoo points accusingly at the tall man’s bulky chest.

Mr. Suh shrugs in response. Then, waves kindly to you, “Have a good evening”. He throws Jungwoo his own bag to carry and leaves to go start the car. 

Your friend offers you a hand getting out of bed, which you accept. He’s back in usual form. With his signature heartwarming smile gracing his lips. “I’ve gotta go, my mom doesn’t like it when I come home late and her food gets cold”. He gives your hand a quick squeeze before letting it fall to your side. “I’ll see you next week”! 

“Bye! Text me” you smile back at your friend and watch his lanky form rush out the door.

There’s a week long break between filming periods to make final script edits. His mom doesn’t come to town often and when she does he likes to treat her to family trips. It seems he’s going to be busy the whole break long.

Your heart aches in a different place than usual but when Minju arrives to pick you up you manage to shake it off. 

[nqrancia]

no thoughts, head empty, i think it’d be hilarious to call some of the jjba character your “current” boyfriend just to fuck with them. so could i get Rohan, Mista and Diego react to reader calling them that? thank youuu ❤️

“𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.”

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : rohan kishibe, guido mista, diego brando

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : how does your bf react to being referred to as your current boyfriend

𝐚/𝐧 : this one was fun to write, tsym for requesting diego! i’ve been brainrotting over him recently :)

𝐑𝐎𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐊

He’s not mad, he’s just disappointed.

Rohan is more than familiar with the trends of today, and is also more than aware of their stupidity. At least, that’s what he believes them to be. It’s not the initial statement that bothers him, it’s the notion that you thought he would be dumb enough to fall for the little trick you attempted to pull on him.

“I’m a bit offended you thought that would work on me.”

He won’t admit it, but he does think about that moment more than he wants to.

───

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐎 𝐌.

Appalled, offended, incredulous. Any negative word that could be used to describe the look of betrayal on Mista’s face was the only way to properly read it. He almost immediately thinks he’s done something to wrong you, which he hasn’t, but he doesn’t know that! The man almost felt his soul leave his body. “What do you mean “current boyfriend”?!”

“Babe, did I do something wrong?”

Even his Sex Pistols are freaking out, thinking you’re leaving him. They need their snack distributor, and it has to be you. You always have exactly what they’re craving.

“Mista says he’s sorry for whatever he did wrong!”

As soon as you tell him it was just a small prank, he lets out the biggest sigh of relief he could muster. A weight was just taken off his shoulders, and he’s even more relieved that you aren’t leaving him. “Thank god! I thought this was your own messed up way of telling me you were breaking up with me!”

You have to promise that you won’t call him that again, or he thinks next time he will actually die.

“Never call me your “current boyfriend” ever again, I am your boyfriend for life!”

“I would hope at that point you’d be my husband instead, Guido.”

“Details.”

───

𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐁.

As soon as those words left your mouth, you were doomed. Though his face was kept in a calm expression for your audience, he was internally setting everything in the vicinity on fire. “Current boyfriend”? What exactly did the phrasing of those words mean? Were you trying to insinuate that in the near future you were going to break up with him? To his knowledge, he hadn’t done anything to anger you. But your words gave him a sense of an internal panic.

After your entourage of reporters had come to interview the both of you, he immediately turned to look at you and scoffed. “Current boyfriend”? I see how it is.”

He is not taking this little prank so well. His feeling of betrayal is expressed in harsher words and blunt statements, and will act this way until you apologize properly to him. To others, his actions might seem childish, but you understood why he reacted this way. Diego wasn’t one to care what was lost as long as he didn’t need it or didn’t see a reason for its use, but you were different. He didn’t like humans, yet you were “tolerable” enough to be allowed to be his. He had found trust in you, yet his heart was still fragile.

Which was exactly why he turned to teasing to mess with you, to convince you to fold and ask for his forgiveness.

“Yes, my “current significant other” loves to watch me race. They come to every event just to watch me achieve victory. Cute, isn’t it?”

Diego won’t stop until you apologize, and you have to be as honest and concise as possible with it as well. He won’t accept a half-hearted, shell of a reason. You have to be clear with him and express your want for forgiveness. If you word your sentences correctly, you might just get him to crack a small smile.

“If there is a next time, I won’t be so nice about my teasing.”

@𝐧𝐪𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐚 ݁₊˚⊹☆ - please do not translate or plagiarize my works.

[vicavica]

Weak Pet

…

Summary: Daryl Dixon is the bad guy who hurt your feelings.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her 20s) and there will be a part 2. Also, English is not my first language, I��m sorry for any mistakes and I hope you enjoy reading :)

…

He was old enough to be your dad, and maybe that was the reason neither he or the group took your feelings seriously, thinking it was just a silly crush. Growing up in the midst of the end of the world deprived you from many used-to-be-normal things: you’ve never stepped a foot into high school if not for hiding, have never had a crush on a classmate, let alone a dance at prom or a graduation. But that, that was love and you knew it. Something so pure and visceral couldn't be mistaken, it was instinct, the same kind that made your body tremble in adrenaline when hearing a walker near you.

Because you were too young when the outbreak happened, only being 5, now, 15 years later, you read everything you could find during runs for resources, trying to get a glimpse of how the world was like, how it worked. Most of it were gossip magazines, you knew all boyband’s scandals without ever hearing a single music from them. Daryl saw you one day-...Oh, there you were, thinking about him again. But how could you not? Rick put you up with him during runs, saying something about how he’d teach you valuable skills on how to survive an apocalypse, and since then your thoughts belonged to him.

“Hey, kid.” Daryl appeared at the beginning of the small market aisle. Everything was chaos in there, shopping carts lying on the floor, mold on the walls and around spoiled food cans. It was clear a lot of survivors passed by throughout the years, there was little almost to nothing on the shelves. You were next to one that contained magazines - or, as you called it, encyclopedias. There weren't much left, people must have taken them to start a fire, as you’ve done a thousand times. “You good?”

“Yes!” You smiled, and the butterflies in your stomach started fighting each other when he walked towards you, eyes on the magazine in your hands. He stopped right behind you, and you could feel the warmth coming from his body. “I know it’s not what we came for, I’m not bringing it to camp-...”

“You should read real stuff.” He took the magazine from your hands, reading the big appealing titles. “This ain’t how things were.”

“Oh.”

He noticed? Your interest in life before walkers? Not an interest, your obsession. He noticed it?

“C’mon.” He gave you the magazine back and held his weapon again. “Let's head back before it gets dark.”

You had a crush on him then - and that was the only time it really was just a crush -, but since that first time you two went on a run alone, things have changed. He’d always have a concentrated look on his face when talking to you, because he’d only talk to you when it involved plans on how not to get bitten by a walker, but his frown started to be less and less evident until it wasn't there at all. You’d spend hours into the night with him telling you about what, now, seemed like a fairytale dressed as life before constant danger. Beaches during Sunday mornings, traffic after a whole day of work, bars full of people and loud music, rockstars. His favorite rockstars, how he thinks his favorite rockstars got turned into walkers, his first bike, his first fight, his first bar fight. Him, him, him. Everything you knew about the past life had him in it. So, when you both parted ways to sleep, you’d imagine yourself living everything he told you about, but living it all with him. Going to rock concerts, riding with him in his bike, arms around his waist as the sun sets, breaking bottles of beer in some random man’s head. These made up scenarios made the loss you felt about everything you could never live easy to carry, and now a walker looked like an old bad man getting punched in a bar.

“Brought this for you.”

Daryl had just come back from a run, and as the group approached him and Rick to help carry the supplies, he took a book out of his bag.

“What?!” You took it in your hands, feeling the texture of the cover under your fingertips. “How did you find it?”

Daryl shrugged.

“It was laying on the floor.”

With eyes glued to the book, you didn't catch Rick chuckling and Daryl giving him a cold stare. The man went out of his way, out of the plan’s way for that run, to get it for you, but he wouldn't tell you that.

“Yeah, it’s a real treasure, you don't find Shakespeare laying on the floor so easily these days.” Rick insisted, walking off with a smirk before Daryl could do anything.

Your eyes went up to him, and he quickly dismissed the hard look, looking softly at you.

“Shakespeare?”

“He’s a cool guy, you’ll like it.”

Always taking care of you, always making sure you were okay, giving you part of his food, teaching you how to use the crossbow, how to drive his bike (the one he wouldn't let anyone touch!), guarding the seat next to him for you like a dog, helping you in your duties, coming back to camp with books. Romance novels. In more than a way, Daryl taught you what love is. If love had a face, it’d be his, so how could he, now, be so oblivious about it?

— You’re just a kid!

You weren’t! It was your 21st birthday, he brought you alcohol as a gift and after a few sips, you didn't get drunk, but got bold enough to confess your love for him. Well, at least, you two were alone, having celebrated your day with the group hours ago, but you’d be embarrassed if a walker saw you being rejected.

— I’m not! You know it, you just gave me alcohol!

— To me, you are. I’m old enough to be your daddy.

— That doesn't mean anything-...

— It does. This… — He pointed between you two. — …ain’t happening.

— I…What’s so wrong about me?!

— Na, we’re not doing this. — He collected his lighter and pack of cigarettes from the grass.

— Answer me! ‘Cause- I don't get it! — When he turned his back to you, ready to walk away, you were quick to put yourself in front of him. — You owe me at least this.

— What don't you get? I’m old, you’re a kid.

— I’m a woman and I know you see me as one!

— What?!

— You don't say it, but you act like it. There’s no other explanation! You always ask me if I ate, you hold doors for me, you taught me pretty much everything I know about survival, you always want to be paired with me during runs, how is this not love?

— It’s maintaining the safety of the group.

— And what about the gifts? You always come back with things I like when you go on runs without me.

— Kid-...

— Stop calling me that! I hate it!

— Well, guess what? That’s what you are, and that's all I see when I look at you. — His harsh words went along with his cold stare. You could see it in his eyes that he wasn't done and you were getting your heart broken on your birthday. — You ain’t no woman to me, you’re the weak pet I have to take care of so you don't ruin everything we built around you. We’re paired on runs ‘cause, for some reason, Rick sees something in you. If we spend so much time together, you should thank him, ‘cause if it were for me, you wouldn't step a foot out of these gates. You’re too careless, a danger to us all. All this time, trying to teach you something and all I get is a dumb crush? It’d be great if you’d just stop reading your foolish books and learn something useful for once.

It seemed like you’d just learned something: how it feels when your heart is broken. It wasn't useful for the current context of the world, a walker wouldn't stop trying to take a bite out of you to hear your crying about how Daryl Dixon was such a cruel heartless man, but Carol sure had the time (or heart, unlike Daryl) for it.

— And then he just walked away. — You cried, and you had cried so much already you were starting to get a headache. Wasting medicine over a heartbreak would make you feel worse. — I feel so embarrassed. — You closed your eyes as tears filled them again, and Carol pulled you close to her, making you rest your head on her shoulder. You two were seated on her bed.

— Oh, sweetheart. Don't cry, it’s okay. You’ll be okay.

— I hate him, he destroyed love for me.

— Oh. — She laughed softly. — He didn't, trust me. It seems like it now, you think you’ll never get over him, but it’ll pass. It always does.

— You think the same, don't you? — You pulled away to look at her. — You think I just have a dumb crush on him. — Carol looked at you trying to hide the pity in her heart. — You do!

— Sweetheart, you’re young-...

— Don’t. — You shook your head, almost begging.

— Too young for him. You should like someone like Carl, he’s about your age, just a few years older.

— But it’s not him I love, Carl is like a brother to me.

— And Daryl could be your-...

— Dad. I know. He made it very clear. — You wiped away your tears in your sleeves. — I’m so sorry I’ve never had one, so I don't know the difference. — You stood up. — When you find someone the same age as me that brings me books about love during the collapse of civilization, call me.

And it was the same with Maggie.

— Look, I think it’s cute that you have a crush on him-...

And Beth.

— Oh, I’m so sorry, Y/N, he was really mean to you. But-...

You turned your back to her, not wanting to hear your feelings being dismissed by a fourth person. Turns out everyone knew about your “dumb crush”, you weren't too discreet about it. But if everyone knew this whole time, Daryl also knew, so was he just entertaining himself with the weak pet having dumb feelings for him? This wasn't the man you knew, the one you loved, not the one who had spent hours sharing stories and thoughts with you, hearing about you growing up raised by your grandmother and having lost her only a few weeks after the outbreak, how it was when your last camp was invaded by walkers and how scared you were when surviving alone in the woods until Rick found you. Maybe those days were the reason Rick saw potential in you, but your role in the last camp was to take care of the kids and cook, surviving in the woods for three days was pure luck.

You really had a lot to learn, but after a year, you were sure you were a whole new person, a real survivor. Who Daryl thought he was? Weak pet?! You’ve never killed a walker, but it was only because he’d never let you do it! How could you if he’d take care of it first?! You were not careless, actually you were scared to death when stepping outside of the group’s territory, so you always had your ears and eyes open to the first signal of danger. And he was the one who was quick to stand by your side during runs, he thought it was a good idea if you learned how to use the crossbow, he asked you if you wanted to learn how to ride a bike, he brought you the books, he was the one inviting you to walk with him, to talk about anything from night to morning, he fixed your hair when it covered your face, he said you were pretty, he was the one who almost kissed you seconds before you told him you loved him only to have him saying you were just a kid! How could he?!

— Heard you’re going around camp saying I’m the bad guy who hurt your feelings.

[absolutelyb4tty]

Secrets and Surprises || Spencer Reid PART II

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader Category: Smut 18+ Summary: Reader and Spencer go to a kink party sending the tension between them to the boiling point. (Part 2) Word Count: 8.2k

Where to read part 1

CW: Spencer Reid/ fem!bau!reader, mutual pining, self doubt, idiots in love, plot and porn, slutty thoughts, reader wears a dress and heels, unprotected p in v (please wear protection), “forced” proximity, kink/bdsm, one bed trope, dry humping, masochism, soft dom Spencer (I’m not sorry, I am merely a sub), discussion of kink dynamics, descriptions of kink scenes, biting, nipple play, praise, impact play, little bit of size kink, Spencer absolutely has a thing for having his hair pulled, Cunnilingus, ooc Spencer A/N: so nervous about this one tbh. I tried to write this for part one but got to 3.5K words and decided to make a part two lol still with season 6 Spence of course. This is entirely self indulgent and I’m not sorry, I know someone out there will match my freak.

Not proof read, sorry

It had been a few weeks since the burlesque show and things between you and Spencer hadn’t been bad but they also hadn’t been normal. At times he seemed more comfortable around you, he was able to touch you without apologizing like he used to, but at other times he couldn’t hold eye contact and seemed to avoid you. You worried that because of all the things said and done the last time you hung out that he wasn’t comfortable with you anymore. 

One night, as the team was heading home, you cornered him near his car. 

“Hey, what’s been going on with you,” you questioned. 

“Oh. Uh nothing,” Spencer's eyes dart away from you. His tense posture told you what you needed to know. 

“Something’s up and you’re making me nervous,” you reply sharply.

“I’m sorry I just didn’t know how to address what happened the last time we hung out,” he slouches and presses his arms over his chest nervously.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to Spence, I know some things were said that we didn’t mean.” Spencer looks almost disappointed for a second before blinking the expression off his face.

“Yeah you’re right,” he says softly, “you never did tell me about that secret event though.” 

Your face pales slightly, “uh what?” 

Spencer laughs, “is it that big of a secret? Now I’m intrigued.”

“No,” you laugh, “it’s just a part of myself I don’t share at work or anything. It kind of clashes with what we do.” Spencer’s eyes twinkle with curiosity, waiting for you to go on.

“Sometimes…my friends and I,” you speak slowly, stalling, hoping he’d cut you off and tell you to forget he asked, “we uh we go to kink parties.” 

Spencer blinks down at you. He tilts his head slightly, “is that it?” 

Now it was your turn to blink in confusion at him, “uh yeah? Is that not concerning to you?” 

“Uh not really, I mean I don’t go to those or anything but I know they exist and I know that with how many of us are on the team at least one of us is likely involved in that scene,” he says matter of factly, “in recent years studies have shown that 56% of people experience BDSM related fantasies.”

You laugh now, “good way to rationalize it Spence. Well yeah that’s the party that’s this weekend. You absolutely don’t have to come if you don’t want to but my friends did invite you.” 

His gaze grew intense, “are you inviting me?”

A soft blush creeps onto your face, “I’m certainly not against you going…so yes. I’m inviting you Spencer.” 

Spencer smiles wide, “then I’ll be there! I’m interested to see what you’ve been hiding from everyone.” 

He had no idea what he was in for.

You smile back at him, trying to will yourself to not blush more. 

That weekend Spencer met you at your place. The party was in a town about two and a half hours away so you planned to road trip together and get a hotel room and then come back the next morning.

You loaded your things into the car as Spencer tried to help.

“You’ve got a lot of things,” he says innocently.

“I have a lot planned,” you chuckle to yourself.

Spencer inspects a couple of unusually shaped, wrapped items that aren’t in your two bags. Once on the road you give Spencer a run down of how these events work in between showing each other music you like. 

“So one of the friends that you met does impact with me, I bottom for that so that’s the plan for tonight. If that makes you uncomfortable you can absolutely hide out in the social area and I won’t be upset,” you explain as you drive. 

Spencer was blushing slightly and staring ahead with wide eyes, “so impact is like…”

“Spanking, hitting, etcetera,” you say casually, “does that make you uncomfortable?”

Spencer felt quite the opposite as he pictures you bent over with your friend smacking your ass. His cock jumps at the thought, “no that sounds interesting actually.” 

As the drive went on you explained dungeon rules and how certain things in the community work.

The drive went quickly and once you were checked into your hotel you decided to check out the room, drop off your belongings, and then prep for the event.

You swing the door to the hotel room open and drag your items in only to be greeted with one bed. You look over your shoulder at Spencer then back to the bed. 

“Okay I swear I reserved a two bed room,” you say, throwing your hands up dramatically.

It wasn’t an issue to share a space, you often roomed together on cases, but sharing a bed was different. You march to the lobby to figure out the mixup while Spencer waits in the room with your things. The clerk at the counter helps you discover the problem. Something had gone wrong during the booking process and you had been downgraded to one king size bed instead of two queens. It was normally an easy fix but the hotel was full so you’d both just have to cope with the shared space. You explained this to Spencer when you got back to the room. He looked away, seemingly contemplating something, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. 

After a moment he looks up at you with a smile, “I’m sure we can make it work.” 

With that you smile back and begin settling in.

Once you’d unpacked everything you ordered food to recover from your drive. You lounged on the bed and aimlessly flipped through channels from the bed.

“You know the food won’t be here for twenty minutes, we could nap,” you stretch out and yawn.

“You could take a nap, I’m not particularly tired,” Spencer chuckles.

“Works for me,” you laugh before curling up on the bed next to him. 

You awoke to find yourself wrapped around Spencer. One leg and arm was propped up on his torso and leg and your head was resting on his arm while he played with your hair delicately. You shifted a little to look up at him, slightly embarrassed that you ended up here while you slept but reassured by him playing with your hair, surely he wouldn’t do that if he hated you touching him.

“Good morning sunshine,” Spencer chuckles down at you.

“Sorry,” you murmur groggily, “I totally invaded your space.”

“It’s okay,” he says, softly smoothing your hair, “clearly I did too.” 

“I suppose that’s fair,” you giggle.

“The foods here if you want any,” he shifts to move his arm out from under you.

You slightly swat at him, “and you didn’t wake me?” 

“Hey! I think the guy knocking is what woke you up so I didn’t exactly have time,” he laughs, swatting you back.

You enjoy your Chinese food and some cheesy rom com on cable together while you wait for the time to get ready.

7 o clock rolls around and you drag yourself out of the bed, stretching onto your tiptoes and reaching your arms above your head. 

Spencer watches you pad across the room to the bathroom. He decides to get changed too, swapping into a black button up and matching trousers before sitting back down in bed to wait for you. The bed is still warm from your presence and the sheets smell faintly of your perfume and it’s all he can think about. Spencer spreads out and buries his face in the pillow for a moment. He daydreams about what tonight would be like, what you would wear, you dancing like you had at the burlesque show, his hands all over you. The bathroom door clicks open, snapping Spencer out of it. 

“Are you ready,” you call from the bathroom.

“Yep,” Spencer responds, smiling in anticipation. 

You step around the corner, hands thrust out at your sides to present your look to Spencer. Your hair is pulled back in a messy high ponytail, highlighting your facial structure. You’re wearing a leather mini skirt, sheer tights, big black high heeled boots, and a metallic handkerchief top. Your arms are decorated in silver bracelets and you wear boot chains on your ankles to match. Your eyes are smeared with dark eyeshadow and eyeliner in an intentional seeming way with delicately layered glitter on top. Your lips are covered in a sheer black lip gloss to match. You are a vision. Spencer stares with his jaw slack.

“Wow,” he whispers.

“Is that a good wow or a bad one,” you giggle.

“I’m going to be so underdressed,” Spencer laughs. You break out in a wide smile and hold up one finger, signaling him to wait.

“I actually thought of that,” you say, spinning around towards your bag. You pull out a tie made of a matching metal mesh to your top and pad back over to him.

“Oh wow, you got this for me,” he looks up at you, his eyebrows pulled together like this was the most touching thing anyone had done for him. He reaches out and grabs it, running it between his hands to feel the interesting texture and movement of the chainmail piece. 

“Let me help you put it on,” you smile softly before climbing onto the bed behind him. You kneel behind him, your chest pressed against the back of his head as you reach your hands out over his shoulders. Spencer hands you each side of the chain and you start to clasp it behind his head. Spencer was distracted by you being so close and how much he wanted to turn around and give you something else to do while you’re on your knees. 

“Is that too tight,” you whisper, your breath hot on the nape of his neck. Spencer nearly chokes being ripped out of his fantasizing by that. 

“No, that's good,” he whispers back.

Your hands linger on his back for a moment before you scoot and slide back off the bed.

“Okay! Are we ready,” you ask peppily.

“Yep,” Spencer says with a wide smile. He tries to bury the thoughts he’s having about you but then you bend over to grab a bag off the floor and he nearly tackles you. He spies just a peek of the underwear you’re wearing under your tights, black and lacy with little hints of metallic thread sneaking through to match your top. He wonders why you’d match your top and underwear since no one would see those but shook the thought from his head as you stood back up. You throw on a long jacket you’d brought to cover your outfit and then throw the bag over your shoulder. 

Pulling up to the venue you go over the rules with Spencer one last time, he nods and repeats them after every one. You giggle slightly.

“What,” he asks, smiling at your laugh.

“It’s just cute how you’re so invested in the rules,” you laugh.

“Well yeah I want to make a good impression,” he smiles.

You pat his knee, “you’ll be fine.” 

Walking in you are met with a perfectly normal hallway with a table at the end. A woman in a pink sparkly gown sits at the table with a cash box. You show her your tickets and she waves you in. Opening the door you’re greeted with quite the sight. People walking around in gowns and lingerie and kink gear and some of them in nothing at all. Spencer is overcome with awkwardness, not knowing where to look, so he grabs your hand and interlocks your fingers.

“Are you okay,” you lean over and whisper.

“Just grounding myself,” he nods.

That makes your heart soar that holding your hand grounds him. You try to not do a little jig from pure happiness. 

You wander around the venue showing Spencer the different areas and introducing him to folks. You both used fake names on account of your highly sensitive jobs, but luckily you knew that tons of the other patrons were using fake names as well.

You meet up with your friends and introduce Spencer to one of them again.

Spencer interrupts you, “I already met her.”

“I know, but that was as my friend, now I’m introducing her as my Top,” you laugh.

“Oh,” he thinks on it for a second, “oh!”

Your friend reaches out and shakes his hand, “I’m the one that gets to smack your little girlfriend around,” she says with a big grin.

You swat at her, “oh my god, shut up!”

You and Spencer mill around the dungeon space watching different scenes. Self suspension, needles, electro, and more. As you walk around you explain what’s happening to Spencer and he eventually loosens the grip on your hand. Once you’d watched some scenes that particularly interested Spencer, and were shocked by how interested he was in rope and suspension,  you went to the social area. You got some snacks from the food table and took a seat off to the side away from the strangers in the room.

“How are you doing,” you check in on him.

“I’m doing really well actually. This is very interesting and I’m having a good time,” he smiles softly.

“Good, maybe you can go to more of these with me in the future,” you laugh lightly. You watch Spencer’s eyes as he gets distracted by something across the room. Your gaze lands on a couple sitting off to the side with a group of, presumably, their friends. The man is dressed in a sharp suit with a leather harness under his suit jacket and colored glasses, he looks almost vampiric. The woman is kneeling between the man’s thighs in lacy purple lingerie, only covered by a tiny pleated black mini skirt. She has a collar on and the man holds the leash attached in his left hand while his right strokes her cheek. They look at each other with such adoration that it feels like you’re interrupting something just by being in the room. The woman rubs her cheek on the man’s hand as he speaks softly to her. You couldn’t hear him over the music and general noise in the background but whatever he said made the woman smile. 

“They’re cute,” Spencer says quietly to you without looking away from the couple. 

“They usually come to these. I think they have such a cute dynamic,” you reply, glancing at Spencer.

“Do you have a dynamic,” Spencer asks, finally looking at you.

“Oh no,” you laugh, “I don’t even date nowadays so I haven’t even started that process.” 

“Do you want something like that,” he gestures with his head at the couple.

“Oh yeah, that’s goals right there,” you laugh, “but I’m fine on my own too.” 

Spencer nods and then looks away to watch the couple again, seemingly lost in thought.

Your friend wanders into the social room, looking from side to side, she perks up when she lays eyes on you.

“Are you ready,” she juts her thumb behind her towards the dungeon space.

You turn to look at Spencer and when he nods you turn back to your friend, “let’s do it!” 

The three of you walk up to a spanking bench your friends are waiting in front of. 

You turn to Spencer, “are you sure you want to see this?” 

“Yep, I’m excited to see whatcha got,” he smiles and nods. 

“Okay,” you say sing-songy, “but if you get uncomfortable you can just wait for me in the social room.” Spencer nods and gives you two thumbs up.

You approach the bench and take a deep breath. Spencer watches as you unzip your skirt, eyes widening as he realizes what you are doing. This was why your top and underwear matched. He didn’t know you planned to disrobe, he obviously noticed other people wearing little or even nothing around him but figured you wouldn’t be joining them, not that he was complaining. Your skirt slid down over the globes of your ass and Spencer had to force his jaw to stay closed. There you stood, tights and underwear and nothing else between him and your pussy, a situation he’d wanted to be in for so long. You climb onto the bench and lay your chest down to get into position, arching your back slightly and getting comfortable. Spencer’s jaw tenses and his cock twitches in his trousers. Your top stands next to you and starts rubbing her hand over your raised ass. She leans down and whispers something to you that Spencer can’t hear but you nod your head in response. Then she rears her hand back and lands the first smack. Spencer jumps slightly and tries to peer at your face to see your reaction. After a second of pause you wiggle your butt and shout, “is that all you got,” with a laugh.

“Oh is that how it’s going to be,” your top laughs back at you. She begins smacking with more force and frequency. Spencer finds himself blushing and nervous but unable to look away. His body reacting differently than he had expected and he didn’t know what to do about it. One of your other friends hands your top a small coffin shaped paddle and your top immediately smacks you with such force that Spencer worries for a second before he hears you. You let out a loud moan at the impact and arch your back more. 

“Is that enough warm up,” your top chuckles.

“Yessss,” you hiss back. 

After that it was a bit of a blur for Spencer. The hits kept coming and with every one you let out a moan, a squeak, a squeal, or a gasp. In response the bulge in his pants grew. The top swapped between implements and Spencer named them to keep himself grounded. Paddles, floggers, evil sticks, and more. Spencer saw the redness spread across your cheeks, little specks of purple appearing in spots that had been hit over and over. Setting down her tool, your top slips her fingers under the waistband of your tights before delicately pulling them down your thighs. Spencer’s pants somehow felt even tighter suddenly.

“Y’know,” she says lightly, “I would normally just tear these but then I’d have to buy you new ones.”

You laugh, sounding out of breath.

Spencer was now staring at your ass, and thinking about your pussy, barely covered by that lacy piece of fabric he saw earlier. He felt like he would burst out of his pants if he saw any more.

Your top pokes a small purple spot, “does this hurt,” she asks in mock concern.

“Yess,” you whine out pathetically, accenting it with a wiggle of your rear.

That was it for Spencer. 

He reaches down and adjusts himself, his cock jumping at the tiny amount of friction he got, before leaning over to a friend standing next to him, “I’m going to step outside for some air.” 

The friend nods and smiles, assuming this was too much for him.

Spencer steps outside into the cold air and lets it fill his lungs. 

“You need to get a hold of yourself,” he hisses out, staring down at the noticeable bulge in his pants. 

Once your scene had ended your top slid your tights back up. You inhale sharply as they make contact with your developing bruises. Your top walks you over to the aftercare section of the facility after helping you back into your skirt. Once comfortable you notice Spencer was nowhere to be found. You drink your water and let your top play with your hair for a bit before getting up to find him. 

Eventually you track him down outside. The cold felt like another smack to your mostly undressed frame. 

Spencer turns to face you and waves meekly, “hey. I just needed some air.” 

A pang of guilt hits you.

“I’m sorry Spence, are you okay,” your eyebrows knit together in worry as you wrap your arms around you for warmth. Without hesitating Spencer pulls off his jacket and places it on your shoulders.

“No, I’m totally okay, I actually left for a different reason. You didn’t do anything wrong,” his voice was dripping with sincerity but his face and body language seemed worried.

“What’s up then,” you ask, preparing for some worst case that you couldn’t even come up with.

Spencer pauses, glancing away from you before opening his mouth to speak again.

“I just don’t want to mess everything up,” he whispers.

“You won’t,” you reach a hand out and give his arm a reassuring rub.

Spencer looks to the side and then to the sky in exasperation before his gaze finally lands on his shoes.

“I liked it too much,” he says so quietly you almost don’t pick it up, “more accurately I like you too much and it was clouding my judgment and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I really enjoyed it, more than I think I should have, I just don’t think you’d want me looking at you that way.” 

You tilt your head to the side, “what way?” 

Spencer’s eyes go wide, still staring at his shoes, and he gestures down to his crotch. His face was burning red and he seemed overwhelmingly flustered.

“I’ve liked you for a really long time. I’ve been burying it inside me so it wouldn’t be a burden on our friendship and I guess seeing you like that was too much. My body reacted before my mind could and so I excused myself. I think you’re beautiful and I love being around you but I know we’re just friends and I respect that. I just like you so much and I don’t want to lose what we have because I can’t be rational when you’re bent over like that making those noises.” 

Spencer tried to continue rambling but you grab his other arm to interrupt him.

He glances up at you anxiously before straightening up to look you in the eye better.

You speak quietly, in shock from his confession, “I like you too.” 

Spencer’s jaw tenses and he glances down at your lips before finding your eyes again. Without hesitation you both lean in and suddenly his lips are on yours. Warm and soft and gentle at first. After a second he pulls his head back slightly. Still staring at your lips he whispers, “I’m sorry I should have asked.”

“It’s okay Spence, just kiss me.”

His arms find your waist and pull you into a kiss that felt like he needed you to breathe. Your fingers tangle in his hair and pull his face down into yours, pressing your lips together harder. Spencer was a greedy kisser. It felt like he needed every ounce of you and he needed it now. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you let him in without a second thought. Your tongues dance against each other and you can feel one of his hands sliding up to the back of your head. Before you realize what was happening he’s walked you back enough that he’s now pressing you against the nearest wall. The kiss deepens and you swear you could keep doing this forever, there was no need to breathe when Spencer Reid was kissing you, he was all you needed. He lightly nips at your bottom lip causing you to let out a choked gasp. Spencer’s chest rumbles as he groans in response. With your bodies so close together you get a physical representation of the feelings Spencer mentioned having earlier pressed against you. You grind your hips forward against him and he moans into your mouth.

The door to the building swings open interrupting you. 

You must look ridiculous. Spencer cornering you against the wall, his hair a mess and your dark lipstick all over his mouth and glitter from your face smeared on his. Not to mention that you had both frozen staring at them like you’d just been caught doing the most scandalous thing ever. The couple that walked out wave goodnight and head to their cars. Spencer moves his hand from behind your head and places it on your waist opposite the other hand while you both gasp for air. 

You lock eyes, both full of lust and pupils blown wide.

“Wow,” Spencer murmurs.

“Yeah,” you breathe back, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“You’re a bad influence on me,” Spencer laughs. 

“I’m the bad influence,” you gasp in mock shock, throwing your right hand over your chest, “I mean I did bring you here and tell you to kiss me I guess.” You point at him accusingly, “but you kissed me first!” 

“I think we kissed each other,” Spencer chuckles, hands sliding around your back to pull you close again.

“Touché doctor,” you giggle before reaching up to kiss him again.

You hands find his face and you kiss him hungrily.

“Should we go back to the hotel,” you ask, backing up slightly and gazing into his eyes.

“Oh no, we shouldn’t just leave your friends wondering where we went and I doubt you had much time for aftercare before you came to find me.”

“How do you know what that is,” you giggle.

“Maybe I have my own secrets,” Spencer whispers, pressing a light kiss to your lips.

You wipe your makeup off Spencer’s face as best you can and go back inside to finish up with your friends and say goodnight. The whole time you cuddled with your top and chatted, Spencer was watching you hungrily. You tried to not squirm under his gaze but it was hard. When it was time to leave you hug your friends goodbye and pile back into your car.

The tension in the car weighed on you, you didn’t know what the future held and you weren’t positive where you stood after what happened. You were stuck in your thoughts until you opened the door to the hotel room and stepped in.

As soon as you both cleared the doorway Spencer was on you. His lips slam into yours, hungry and desperate. He grabs the back of your head as he eases you against the wall, kicking the door shut with his left foot. You wrap your arms around his neck so he can reach you better. The height difference wasn’t too much but it was certainly noticeable when you were kissing. He tucks his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, arching your back away from the wall so your chest is pressed against him. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth and you let out a small moan. His hands slide down your back to rest on your ass. His tongue slips into your mouth as he begins kneading your ass. You squeak at the pain from your bruises that Spencer has completely forgotten about.

“I’m sorry,” he pants.

You look him in the eyes with such intensity it draws him back a bit.

“Do it again,” you smirk at him.

Something in him snaps awake at that and he grabs your ass hard. You keen and try to lean your head away from him but he catches you with his lips and kisses you even harder.

You bury your hands in his hair and pull slightly making him whine against your lips. You wrap one of your legs around his so you can grind yourself against him. 

He slides his hands to the top of your thighs and speaks so lowly it sounds more like a growl, “jump.” 

You listen immediately and he lifts you up onto his hips. You wrap both legs around him and are immediately pressed harder against the wall as he kisses along your jaw. He starts rutting up against you as he kisses and nips down your neck. You moan at the friction and grind down on him to meet his thrusts. A deep groan rumbles out of his throat as he attacks yours. He presses and drags his tongue up the side of your neck before biting down. You let out something like a gasp mixed with a squeal and he chuckles against your neck. 

You tap his shoulder desperately, “bed, bed, bed.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, still rutting against you with his face pressed against your clavicle, “I couldn’t wait.” 

You bite back a moan at that, thinking it would be embarrassing to let him know how much him wanting you turns you on.

Spencer carries you to the bed, kicking his shoes off on the way, and gently lays you down with him on top of you. He sits up and starts to unclasp his tie so you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch his hands work.

Spencer starts unbuttoning his shirt as you watch.

“Do you like watching,” he asks with a chuckle. His question ends your trance and you reach down to unzip your boots.

“You have really nice hands,” you say bashfully. Once your boots are off, you scoot to a sitting position and take over unbuttoning his shirt. You pull it down, off his shoulders, and throw it to the floor. You reach to undo his belt but Spencer grabs your hand, stopping you.

“Your turn,” he says with a glint of mischief in his eyes. He reaches behind you to unclasp the chains keeping your top on, pressing your face into his warm chest. Your top slips off from the weight of the metal and Spencer backs up to look at you. You rest your hands at the hem of his pants while he takes in the view.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, hands just ghosting over your form.

“It’s a little late to get nervous about touching me,” you giggle.

Spencer laughs, “true, I suppose.” 

With that he grabs your breasts and pushes you back down to the bed. Spencer squeezes and toys with your tits as he kisses you, hard and desperate. He starts to grind against you again. You try to remember to breathe as he begins pinching and lightly pulling at your nipples. You let out small noises against Spencer’s mouth only fueling his movements. Spencer kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving little bites and licks as he makes his way to your sternum. He sits up and you groan at the loss of contact. Spencer hikes your skirt up to your waist before you pipe up, “let’s just take it off.” Spencer nods and moves his hands off so you can move. You spin and sit up on your knees so he has access to the zipper on the back. Spencer unzips it slowly, an idea spinning in his mind. He gently pushes you face down into the bed to take the skirt down your legs. As he pulls the skirt off your feet and chucks it to join your shirts on the floor you slip your thumbs under the waistband of your tights. Spencer leans down to your ear, his body covering yours as he does so, and whispers, “I’ll buy you new ones.”

Before you can react Spencer tears a small hole in the crotch of your tights. He then takes both hands and rips them completely open, exposing your lacy underwear and bare thighs. 

“Oh my god Spencer,” you squeal and giggle.

Spencer then flips you back onto your back.

“What? I said I’d buy you new ones,” he feigns innocence as he finally cups your pussy. You gasp and flush slightly.

“God you’re so wet for me,” Spencer groans.

“Just for you,” you sigh.

Spencer slides your underwear down and off your legs, tearing through the tights further. Now face to face with your bare cunt, Spencer’s cock throbs in his slacks. Spencer’s hands glide under your thighs, lifting your legs onto his shoulders as he ducks down to kiss your pubic bone. Spencer hovers inches from you. Your breath shutters as you feel his breath against your wetness.

“Spencer, you don’t have to,” you breathe out, nervous he was hesitating because of how long he sat there without doing anything.

Without a word Spencer abruptly licks a wide stripe up your folds, “I don’t have to, but I’m going to.” 

You let a moan slip past your lips, “oh god.” 

Spencer laps at your core, drawing moan after moan out of you. Your hands find his hair and tangle amongst the strands, tugging slightly. Spencer whines quietly so you do it again and you’re rewarded with a whimper emitted from the back of his throat.

Spencer removes his left hand from your leg, letting it drop to the side. He moves to focus on licking and sucking on your clit. You feel him drag his fingers down through your folds to gather your arousal before slowly easing a finger into you. You gasp as pleasure washes over you.  You clench around him and Spencer chuckles, sending vibrations through you. He begins thrusting his finger in and out of you. You pitch one hand to the bed to grab onto the sheets, holding on for dear life.

“Oh my god Spence,” you cry out.

Spencer continues licking and sucking your core as he picks up the pace of his finger.

“You said you liked my hands right,” he asks before blowing cool air over your soaked clit.

“Yessss,” you hiss, tugging at his hair again. Spencer moans and stills for a moment.

“Y’know,” you look down to make eye contact with Spencer as he speaks, “if you keep pulling my hair then I’m not going to have the patience to make you cum on my face and I really want to make you cum on my face.” His eyes are dark with lust and you almost don't know how to process this side of him. He starts to devour your cunt again and you let out a high desperate moan.

“Fuck Spence, oh my god,” he leaves you gasping, the suddenness of his mouth on you knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Mmf, love how you taste,” Spencer mutters, his finger picking up the pace again. You start to grind yourself on his face, pressing down on his head to get more of him. He chuckles against you and sneaks a second finger inside you, immediately starting to curl his fingers. 

“Oh my- fuck- god,” you whine out, bucking your hips slightly to chase the feeling. Spencer flicks his tongue against your clit and sucks, pistoning his fingers in and out of you. 

“You gonna cum for me, beautiful,” he looks up, trying to hold eye contact with you as you struggle to look down at him. His beautiful amber eyes grab your attention but the pleasure is so overwhelming you have a hard time sitting still.

“Yes, yes, please,” you whine, “d-don’t stop!”

The pressure that had been building in you was reaching a breaking point as your eyes squeeze shut.

Spencer chuckles and clamps down to suck on your clit again only coming up for air to say, “Look at me when you cum all over my face, pretty girl.”

He moves his fingers faster, occasionally adding a beckoning motion, and licking you in a frenzy. 

You look down at him, “gonna- oh god,” you scream his name as your climax crashes into you. You lock eyes, him peering up at you with an obvious smirk even when his mouth is busy with other things. Pressing his head down and clamping your thighs around him, a distant part of you worried you might suffocate him but you were too absorbed in the all consuming pleasure racking your body to stop. 

Spencer works you through your peak, fingers gently slowing as you come down. Slipping his fingers out of you he spreads your thighs back open and plants soft kisses on the plush skin. Your body buzzing and Spencer’s soft laughter is all that could be heard over your panting. 

“You did so good, Angel,” he speaks softly.

Despite just cumming seconds earlier you’re still desperate for him.

“Your turn,” you pant, gently pulling his head toward you. 

“Are you sure? I’m okay, really, you need a minute to recover,” Spencer says, very sweetly, but you’re in no mood for sweet.

“Fuck my face or fuck my pussy, your choice,” you challenge. 

Spencer’s eyes darken as he climbs back up to your face, “fine,” he plants another deep kiss, bruising and starved, on your lips. He sits up and starts to unbuckle his belt. You swat his hands away and unbuckle it yourself then proceed to pull down the zipper and undo the button. You pull his pants open and slightly down, greeted with the bulge in his briefs. 

“Are you ready,” you look up into his eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation.

“Absolutely,” he replies with a smile.

You pull down his underwear, his cock springing out of the waistband.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. It’s much bigger than you expected, you also feel slightly bad for not addressing him sooner with how red and hard it is. You just stare for a moment, it’s pulsing, flushed with red, and huge.

“Are you okay,” Spencer asks, voice heavy with concern, “we can stop if you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, no, no,” you shake your head, “I just wasn’t expecting you to be so…big.” 

Spencer laughs, “is that a problem for you?”

You shake your head, “just nervous about the stretch a little, it’s been awhile since I’ve been with anyone,” you laugh.

“We’ll make it fit,” Spencer says, looking down at you almost sinisterly compared to his usual demeanor.

Spencer kicks his pants off and turns to face you again. You grab his shoulders and throw him down on the bed, immediately positioning yourself between his legs. Spencer yelps in surprise at the sudden position change.

“Heyyy,” he murmurs, “you said I got to pick.” 

You giggle, “so you don’t want me to show you how good I am with my mouth?”

“You can show me that later but right now I’m feeling impatient,” he chuckles deep in his chest. 

You climb up his body to straddle him, pressing his cock flat against his stomach underneath you. You settle on top of his hips with your hands resting on his chest and slide against him, watching his reaction. Spencer hisses and grabs your forearms.

“Want to be inside you,” he grunts.

“Just give me a second, still sensitive,” you say, grinding yourself against him, his hardness sliding between your folds.

Spencer’s jaw tenses as you ride him, watching you use his cock for your satisfaction. Finally having contact with this part of him sends little bolts of lightning through you. You let your eyes fall closed as you roll your hips down on him. 

Spencer whispers your name, it turns into a whine as he says, “please, I need you.” 

Your pussy clenches around nothing at that and you decide you can’t handle teasing him anymore. You lift your hips and grab the base of his cock, he doesn’t need it, but you pump it a few times just in case. Pressing your thumb to his slit, you smear his precum over his tip before lining yourself up. Finally feeling him press into you, you let out a soft gasp. You start to lower yourself, feeling every vein and pulse of him against your walls as you go. Spencer chokes out a gasp and fists the sheets next to him. You finally seat yourself against his pelvis, a slight burn accompanying the stretch of him inside you. You slide your hands down to his stomach, trying to remain relaxed as your body adjusts, you shut your eyes tight and point your face downward. 

“Are you okay,” Spencer asks, clearly struggling to remain composed himself as he rubs his thumbs across your forearms in reassuring circles.

“M fine,” you barely get out, “just adjusting.”

Spencer waits for a moment, watching you. You lift up slightly and give a tentative pump with your hips, letting out a high pitched moan at the friction.

Spencer whimpers and grabs the sheets with one hand again. You start moving, letting out a constant stream of gasps and moans as you pick up pace. Spencer tilts his head back and moans, deep and thankful like you just offered him relief. The hand on your forearm tightens as Spencer lets out a groan, looking down at where you’re connected.

“Oh god,” he moans. His hands leave their positions to slide up your stomach to your chest. He palms your breasts, “so beautiful, so, so beautiful,” he mutters to himself.

You roll your hips down on him, tearing a groan out of his parted lips. He rolls one of your nipples in between two fingers and tugs slightly. You claw at his chest, unable to control the noises escaping your mouth. He just fills you so well and you’ve waited so long for this. 

Spencer starts to buck up into you, meeting your movements and driving you crazy. Your hips stutter slightly as you approach your peak, pressure building in you, ready to snap. Spencer notices your breath hitch and your movements grow sloppy, he grabs your hips hard and starts fucking up into you. 

“Oh- oh god,” you cry as Spencer takes the lead. 

“Look at me,” Spencer says firmly. 

You fall forward, slamming your hands on either side of his head, trying your hardest to hold eye contact. Spencer looks at you, intensity burning in his eyes, his grip on your hips tightening as he rams into you. 

“Are you gonna cum for me,” he pants. You nod furiously in response, leaning to rest your forehead on his. You gaze into his eyes, his honeyed irises scorching you with their focus.

You practically scream his name as you come undone on top of him, the last thing you see before screwing your eyes shut is the pleased look on his face as he continues to fuck you through your high. You slump down onto his chest as his pace slows but doesn’t stop.

“Spencer,” you moan out quietly.

“Yeah,” he sighs and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Too good,” you say slowly and softly. 

“We’re not done yet,” he chuckles at you. Before you have time to react he’s flipping you both over so you’re pressed under him. He sits up and hauls your legs up to wrap more solidly around his waist. 

“Mmf Spence,” you whine, “I’m sensitive.”

“You can give me one more, can’t you,” he chuckles as he moves his hands up to your waist. 

“You’re just so tight and pretty with my cock in you, I just can’t help myself.” 

“Holy f-fuck,” you moan at his sudden change in demeanor.

“Do you like it when I talk to you like that,” Spencer asks, looking deep into your eyes. 

“Yess,” you whine, squirming under his gaze.

Spencer pulls out of you slowly so only his tip is left inside you. He starts to slowly slide back into you, moaning as he bottoms out.

“F-fuck,” his moan ends in almost a growl, eyes squeezed shut. Your eyes snap between his mouth and his eyes, realizing you’ve never heard him say that word before. Opening his eyes he gives you a puzzled look, “you okay? Look shocked,” he murmurs.

“You said fuck,” you say, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re just that good baby,” he laughs. With that Spencer starts moving again, pumping himself in and out of you. His hands find your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You let out a choked moan, “Spence.”

He glances up to find your eyes, a question knitted into his expression.

“More.”

Spencer groans and picks up the pace of his hips.

He leans down to suck a mark onto your left breast. As he sucks you mewl at the building pressure in your core. Spencer bites into your flesh, the sting of his teeth shocking you into a yelp you don’t even notice letting out.

Spencer’s eyes shoot up to yours, “m sorry,” he murmurs, licking a stripe over the faint bite mark. 

“No, don’t stop,” you moan. Spencer smirks and continues nipping and biting over your breasts. Your hands look for purchase in his hair, tugging and pulling lightly. 

Spencer’s hips stutter, “baby if you don’t stop that this is going to over way quicker than either of us want.”

You don’t stop though, you giggle and tug harder. Spencer snaps upward, grabbing both your wrists in one hand and shoving them onto the bed above your head. He’s now just inches from your face.

“Is that how you want to play this,” he whispers, his hips having stopped moving. You whine and try to fuck yourself on his dick, struggling under his body pressing you into the bed.

“Fine,” he growls. Spencer snaps his hips, abruptly sending pleasure shooting through you. You keen at the overwhelming sensation, throwing your head back into the mattress. Spencer’s hand that isn’t holding your wrists finds your throat, delicately wrapping around it.

“Are you going to be good for me now or do I have to fuck some sense into you,” his voice rumbles from deep in his chest.

You nod frantically, trying to move your hips to match his movements.

Spencer fucks into you harder, his lips landing on your earlobe before he pulls it between his teeth and bites down. Your brain shuts down, sparks shooting through your body as Spencer ravages you. Spencer’s hand loosens its grip on your throat, sliding up to brush his thumb over your bottom lip. He drags his face above yours, smashing his lips into yours. Your mouth falls open at one swipe of his tongue, allowing him access. He kisses you like you’re oxygen and he’s been buried alive. His hips snap against yours, his cock hitting parts of you that you swear have never been touched before. He kisses you frantically as his right hand travels down your body, his lips on yours makes the room spin. You tighten your legs around his waist.

“Are you close,” Spencer murmurs huskily against your lips.

“Almost,” you’re barely able to whine out before another moan rips out of your throat. Spencer slows down his hips slightly, focusing more on hitting you deeper and harder rather than faster.

“Oh fuck,” Spencer whines, throwing his head back. “You feel so good baby, doing so good for me,” he rambles. You push your hips against him, trying to encourage him to speed up again, whining when he looks into your eyes.

“Oh what? You want to cum now? I thought you were too sensitive,” he chuckles between moans.

“Please,” you whisper.

Spencer leans down, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, “I’m kidding, I want to feel you cum around me again.”

You almost sob out a moan as his thrusts speed up again.

“Where do you want it,” Spencer grunts.

“Inside, inside, inside,” you practically babble, so overtaken with the feeling of him in you and on you. Spencer thrusts into you hard and it causes all that pressure in you to release as you clench around him. Spencer whimpers and moans as you clamp down on him, cumming hard enough that you think you feel yourself ascend for a moment.

“There it is,” he moans, “there’s my girl, you’re doing so good for me, taking it so well.”

You start whining at the overstimulation and Spencer shushes you gently.

“I’m almost there darling just hold on,” he whimpers. His hands slide to the back of your thighs, lifting your legs and pressing them to your chest. His large warm hands hold you down as he slams into you. His hips stutter ever so slightly as he approaches his own high.

“F-fuck, oh my god,” he moans.

You whimper under him, squirming slightly.

“You can take it baby, I know you can,” he grunts, “fuck you feel so good.”

“Take it angel, take it, take it, take it.” warmth fills you as he spills inside of you with a moan. He slows his thrusts and slumps down on you, pressing soft open mouth kisses to your chest and clavicle. 

He lets out a laugh between pants, “oh my god, darling that was amazing.”

You both pant and laugh together in the quiet of your hotel room.

“I can’t believe it took us so long to do that,” you laugh, finally pulling your arms from Spencer's grip to wrap them around his neck. Spencer eases out of you and rolls both of you so you are laying next to each other.

“That’s the power of two anxious introverts I think,” he says with a quiet laugh.

“Thank you for talking to me about your feelings Spence,” you murmur, caressing his cheek as you speak.

“Thank you for not rejecting me,” he replies softly.

“How could I? You’re one of the most amazing people I know.”

Spencer pulls you into a soft kiss, it’s warm and sweet and everything you’ve been wanting.

“Do you think the team will notice,” Spencer murmurs, breaking the kiss.

“God I hope not,” you laugh, “honestly though they’ve probably already placed bets on when this would happen.”

Spencer laughs, “you are so right.”

Thank you for reading!! Any feedback is appreciated, let me know if you want me to continue this with more kinky spencer shit ♡

Requests open!!♡♡♡

[toasttt11]

run

August 19, 2024

Ophelia was standing at the kitchen island looking out the window as she drank a glass of water.

She was about to go on her morning run but alone this morning as Quinn was up late last night picking up some of the boys at the airport so he texted her he was going to take the day off.

Ophelia set her glass in the sink just as she heard one of the stairs creak and she glanced over seeing Macklin coming up from the basement and was wearing work out clothes.

“Morning.” Macklin blinked seeing Ophelia standing in the kitchen with a pair of blue running shorts and sports bra. He gave her a smile as he walked into the kitchen.

“Morning.” Ophelia gave him a sweet smile back and handed him a glass making him smile and get some water.

“Are you going on a run?” Macklin asked her looking hopeful.

“Yeah.” Ophelia nodded softly, “What about you?”

“Run too.” Macklin nodded as he woke up early from getting a really good full night of sleep.

“Want to join me?” Ophelia perked up looking a bit nervous to ask but also hopeful he would say yes.

Macklin immediately beamed, “I’d love too!”

Ophelia smiled widely back.

Macklin followed Ophelia to the door, “Do you listen to music?” Macklin asked curiously as she shut the door behind them.

“Sometimes.” Ophelia just shrugged.

“Want to share?” Macklin offered her an airpod.

Ophelia blinked she had never shared music like this with someone before. Sometimes Quinn just plays music on his phone with no headphones as they run but that’s the most she listens to when she is running.

“Thanks.” Ophelia gave him a small smile as she took the airpod that is for the left side so she could hear Macklin on her right.

“Of course, Do you have anything you want to listen to?” Macklin asked as he pulled out his phone.

“I’m not picky.” Ophelia honestly doesn’t really pick music ever, she had a playlist on her phone with a lot of random artists that she plays before games.

Macklin hummed and clicked on one of his playlists hoping it is okay as Ophelia pulled her hair into a messy ponytail and she raised an eyebrow immediately hearing country music being played.

“Ready?” Ophelia gave him a grin and immediately started running making him laughs and quickly start running to catch up to her.

Ophelia took Macklin on one of her favorite running routes and they slowed down at a small after running for a while.

Macklin caught his breath plopping down on the sand and Ophelia drank some water before handing the bottle to Macklin who gave her a thankful look as she sat down next to him.

“I know you from somewhere.” Ophelia spoke up having thought about this from the last twenty four hours since she officially met Macklin.

Macklin smiled a bit and gave her a nod, “You do.”

“We met once years ago.” Macklin told her making her brows furrowed trying to remember, “It was in San Jose at the summer camp.”

Ophelia blinked and realized what he meant, “In 2019.” It was the first summer after her Dad got sick and she really wasn’t fully there to remember everything.

Ophelia remembered slightly a boy with lighter hair who was fast on the ice but she never spoke to him.

Macklin smiled seeing she realized, “I was waiting to see if you would remember.”

“I’m sorry i didn’t realize honestly that year was a blur.” Ophelia apologized feeling bad she didn’t remember him.

Macklin gave her a kind grin, “It’s okay, we didn’t even speak and i didn’t expect you to remember. It’s easy to remember you than remember me.” Macklin thought about the girl with pigtails who was quicker than anyone on the ice.

Ophelia blinked at his words and felt her cheeks warm a bit at the kind words.

Macklin grinned a bit sheepishly not meaning for that to slip so he stood up offering her a hand letting Ophelia take his hand to stand back up, “Race you back?” Macklin gave her a grin and started running.

Ophelia laughed and started running after him.

Ophelia just passed Macklin as they reached the driveway making Macklin groan, he is used to always being the fastest and to was nice to have Ophelia push him, “I’ll get you tomorrow.” Macklin gave her a determined grin as he caught his breath walking up the front steps with her.

Ophelia laughed very softly and smiled that he was going to run with her again, “Okay.” She had a competitive look that is rarer to see on her.

“Come on it’s smoothie time.” Ophelia gave him an excited smile gesturing to him to follow her into the kitchen.

Macklin perked up at smoothies and happily followed her into the kitchen as she hasn’t to pull everything out for smoothies while asking him what he likes and doesn’t like.

“Thank you.” Macklin gave her a grin as she handed him his smoothie and he perked up the second he drank it, “That’s one of the best smoothies i’ve ever had.” Macklin told her so honestly making her smile shyly at his words.

“Now the perfect way to end a run.” Ophelia smiled at Macklin as she walked out of the kitchen with Macklin following her outside.

“What is it?” Macklin asked curiously as he followed her down to the dock.

“A dunk in the lake.” Ophelia quickly slipped her shoes off setting her smoothie on the table on the dock and she jumped right into the water.

“You coming in?” Ophelia gave him a smile and he quickly nodded and followed her into the water.

Macklin beamed at her as he came back up from the water and he gently splashed her water making her her squeal as she laughed and she gently splashed him back.

Quinn glanced out side from the living room and smiled seeing Ophelia in the lake with Macklin splashing each other and laughing.

[ofloyaltokarate]

Miguel was feeling awful for herself. Because he felt trapped. He felt like he was confided to this room, the hospital. He was growing increasingly frustrated with him. He in his head was overthinking, he was wondering if he’d be able to leave? If he’d managed to walk again. He felt defenseless, he felt power with fighting, and suddenly he had to lick his own wounds. He was angry, but all his inner demons had subsided when he caught sight of a cheerful Sam, her smile lit up the room. And she brought breakfast, I didn’t want to allow my heightened emotions to get the best of me. Was I hungry? Yes, but I also doubted I was going to be the best company. And as I suspected my mom was going to be respectful, and give up time, space without her prying eyes. 

He forced a gentle smile to crease along his lips. “ Good Morning, thank you for coming, I’m sorry if I’m not the best delight this morning.” I wanted to apologize now, in case I appeared grumpy, or annoyed, I was annoyed with the situation, not her. I wanted to see Sam, she was like this force of light in my life; the only sliver lining to that accident, was us coming back together. As the tray was moved over my stomach, I had gently straighten up against my pillows, pushing the button to allow my bed to shift upward. And I had dipped my hand no fork into the pancakes. “ Your dad felt guilty huh?” I asked with amusement, wanting to lighten the mood. Her dad wasn’t a total fan of me. He didn’t like me due to who I spent my training with. But I was convinced if the two would stand in the same room, they’d talk and understand they weren’t all that different.

He popped a pancake in his mouth, with a laugh leaving his lips. “ You really are the bright spot in my days.” A loving expression only made of softness for her.

@ofloyaltokarate

And If I asked you nicely not to press you mom for information, would you listen to me? {I tilted my head slightly to the side so I could see him better; all the while a soft smile traced the corners of my lips} I'll even say please, if that helps to convince you. {I added playfully; even going as far as teasingly batting my lashes in his direction, since I know that sort of trick works on some guys. At least that's what Jasmine and Moon told me. Given their endless list of male suitors, I figured they might know a thing or two about what does and doesn't work on guys} And yeah, I pretty much do. I blame it on the Miyagi-do training instilled in my mind. You know the part of always having a plan to counter the previous plan, in case the previous plan doesn't go like I hoped. {I said through a soft laugh. Figuring that was a pretty wordy explanation to simply say, I always have a back up idea in mind, in case the original idea doesn't go like I planned} Either way, if she says no, it's okay. I can always schedule that particular date for another day and time. That's not a huge problem. Besides, I think once your mom joins us for my parents' anniversary party, and she sees you're in more than capable hands with me, and I won't let anything happen to you, she'll agree to me taking you on this date. And like I said, if she doesn't, I have plenty of other date ideas of my sleeve, so I'm convinced there's a few ideas on there that she'd definitely agree to. {I said optimistically. I knew my big surprise might take /a lot/ of convincing, but at the same point, I knew there was a chance. Bottom line though, whatever Miguel's mom decides is best for him, then I will agree with her, because at the end of the day, we both just wanted to protect him} As long as we're together, I'll be content with whatever we do. {I eventually said as the smile remained contentedly fixed on my lips}

[watchyoubloom]

for the words ask game… smile???

hi hi tysm!! for “smile” i picked from a sleepy morning danny wip:

You can’t resist the temptation of shimmying your hips just a bit, canting your ass further back against his lap, and smile to yourself when Danny groans in his sleep and grinds against you some more.

Send me a word, any word, and if it’s in my WIP I’ll answer your ask with the sentence or line it appears in.