#but like??? do i just join???? is that okay?????

[vivwritesfics]

Hi! I saw that you said requests were open and I have an fic idea

Basically Max Verstappen × Singer!reader, and reader writes some new songs and invites him to spend time in the studio with her on winter break. And while she's recording a song, he realizes it's about his childhood, and she makes sure he's okay with the lyrics before she records it? Leads to a lot of fluff and angst.

(This may or may not be heavily influenced by Billie Eilish's song "Blue" )

Have a great day🥰

this is the shortest of short blurbs bc idk the song and billie eilish (i almost spelt it eyelash jeez man lmao) isn't my thing. just trust me on this one

Warnings: talks of abuse (no details) and trauma (no details)

Max loved joining her in the studio. He loved sitting there, watching her do her thing. The deal was that he couldn't listen as she was recording (that was fine with Max. He loved watching what she did, loved the dancing she couldn't stop herself from doing as she sang).

Her older music played softly while she streamed. He was the most supportive boyfriend she'd ever had, and she was the same to him. Where he played her music wherever he could to show his support, she wore her 33 necklace at all times (the 1 charm was added when he won his first championship).

There wasn't much Max knew about this album, just that it was called Maxie. Maxie. It was going to make him look sappy as shit when the world found out about it, but he didn't care.

Just like the rest of the world, Max was waiting for the album to drop. He didn't know he was going to be the first to listen to it.

He certainly didn't picture this. Her sitting on his lap as the first song in the new album played. It was a soft, slow, melodic song. Max listened to the lyrics, telling the story of how they first met.

The songs were about them, about him. About how much she loved him, about his career. Two hundred miles per hour, ready to make my heart shatter. Her fear around his career, wrapped around lyrics about how proud she was.

max. He wasn't ready for the song called max. The song about his childhood, a story told from the point of view of someone on the outside looking in. It's too late to save him, but she's there to pick up the pieces, to help him through the trauma. Trauma not realised until later.

"I wasn't sure about keeping that one on the album," she confessed as she looked at his face, looked at the tears gathering in his eyes. "I don't have to if you don't want me to."

Max pulled her closer. "I love you," he whispered and kissed her.

[soobibabe]

espresso kim mingyu

rewite of one of my most popular oneshots, espresso! pairings: kim mingyu + reader trope: friends to lovers genre ▸ romantic comedy (including smut) wc: warnings: 'unprotected' sex (she's on the pill tho) , oral [m + f receiving], fingering, choking, lots of praise and pet names, creampie, v. squirting. lmk if I miss any.

[ august 2nd 2023 ]

It’s been so long since you last saw the friend group that just walking in makes you jittery. You've known these guys since high school, all thanks to Mingyu, but university life has kept you too busy to catch up.

You do see Mingyu the most, given that you both attend SNU together, but the rest of the gang has been a rare sight.

When you finally step through the door, your nerves quickly dissolve. The room erupts in cheers as soon as you're spotted, with Soonyoung’s voice ringing out in delight.

“Come hereeee! You’re all grown up now!” His eyes light up as he watches you move towards the circle they’ve formed in the living room. He’s already looking tipsy.

“Soooonieee, I missed you!” You hug him tightly as soon as you’re within reach. Chan’s voice cuts through the celebration. “Yah, quit hogging her!”

“Ignore them both; they’re half a bottle of soju away from full-blown drunkenness,” Dokyeom says with a laugh, pulling you away from their clinging. “Let’s get you settled. What do you want to drink? It doesn’t have to be alcohol if you’re not into that, though we were about to start a drinking game.”

You smile, feeling a wave of nostalgia. “Just water for me, but a drinking game sounds fun. I’d love to join, though you know my tolerance is pretty much nonexistent.”

“That’s fine,” Dokyeom says. “You can just watch, but—”

Before he can finish, Mingyu joins you in the kitchen, cutting in smoothly. “We were thinking of playing truth or dare, or drink. DK suggested it for old times’ sake.”

You don’t notice Minghao entering until his voice calls out your name, making you jump slightly. “I missed you. It’s been so long!” He moves in for an embrace, but Mingyu grabs your wrist and steers you towards the others. “Missed you too, Hao—” Your words are cut short by Mingyu’s brisk pace.

You miss the tense exchange of glances between Minghao and Mingyu, the latter looking determined while Minghao wears a sly smirk.

DK follows into the living room, carrying a tray of shot glasses and bottles. “So, who’s up first?”

The game kicks off with outrageous dares, from posting twerking videos on Instagram (DK’s specialty) to speaking Korean with an American accent for the rest of the game.

When it’s Minghao’s turn, he locks eyes with Mingyu. “I dare you to call the girl you like and confess exactly how you feel.”

The dare hits you like a punch to the gut. Mingyu hesitates for a moment before downing his shot in one go. Since when was he seeing someone?

The game continues with laughter and more dares until Wonwoo finally arrives, fresh from a long day at his internship.

The night has been the most fun you’ve had in years, but Mingyu’s secret lingers in your mind. Why hasn’t he told you about this?

Later, after everyone else has either left or collapsed on the couch, you and Mingyu find yourselves sitting on the porch outside his room. The cool night air and the city’s soft hum create the perfect backdrop.

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked someone?” you ask, trying to sound casual despite the twist in your chest.

Mingyu looks at you, his expression unreadable. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how? We’re best friends, Mingyu. You can tell me anything,” you press.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing. Really, don’t worry about it.”

Defeated, you decide to drop the topic. “Anyway, it’s late. I should get going—” But before you can finish, Mingyu’s warm hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back. The touch is unexpected but gentle.

“Don’t go,” Mingyu says, his brown eyes earnest. “It’s past midnight; you shouldn’t be driving alone.”

“It’s okay, Gyu, I’ll be fine.”

He pulls you closer, his grip firm but tender. “Please don’t go.” His plea makes your breath hitch. You’re used to his alcohol-fueled clinginess, but this feels different. Your heart races, and the tension between you makes your cheeks flush.

You grab Mingyu’s leftover soju from the ledge and take a swig. He watches you with a mix of surprise and admiration.

“Mingyu, can I do something stupid?” you ask, feeling the alcohol’s effects loosen your inhibitions.

“Do anything you want, whether it’s with me or something else. Just stay with me,” he replies, his voice low.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the moment, but you lift your hand to his cheek, standing on tiptoe to meet his gaze. Lost in his eyes, you notice his focus on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, as if he could read your mind.

He doesn’t hesitate. With a swift, decisive movement, his lips crash onto yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling away for air, but he immediately follows, chasing your lips with his own.

His hands explore your hips, then waist, until he's grabbed one of your thighs, pulling it up to his frame.

He pulls away, this time you expect him to say that you shouldn't be doing this, but to your surprise... "Need more. I need you, y/n" The whininess in his tone causes you to reject any worry you previously have about 'ruining the friendship'.

"You have me, Gyu". you manage to say, but you're so breathless it comes out sounding like a moan, it ignites something in Mingyu You'd never seen before.

His eyes grow dark in an instant, kissing you again this time leading you into the room with the hold he had on your hips. Strangely, you're the one who feels intoxicated now, mingyu sobering up by the minute.

"Can i touch you, y/n?" he whispers, breaking the kiss.

"Please do" you whisper back. He feels feral. Now you're on the bed, back against the mattress with mingyu hovering above you. He takes off his shirt and you're blushing like a teenager all over again.

You've seen Mingyu shirtless a number of times throughout your friendship. You would always have to look away, afraid he'd notice how flustered he made you. All those times were nothing compared to being this up close.

"Do you like what you see princess?" the way he says nickname has your heart and core fluttering. He holds your hand, presses it against his chest and you feel his heartbeat racing.

"I'm nervous too, its alright. we can stop at any point you don't feel like doing more, okay?" No other guy you've got this far with before paid this much attention to your satisfaction, he's unreal.

"Mingyu, i need you"

"You have me pretty girl, just tell me where"

You start by placing his palm against your cheek, then down to your chest torturously slow following the line that divides the left and right of your torso all the way down to your clothed cunt. "Here." you bat your lashes at him, doe eye on full display.

Mingyu wastes no time, he tugs the waistband of your pants all the way off in one swift motion. "Tell me how bad you want it baby" "Please gyu," you start, but your mind wonders far off anything coherent when you feel his lips graze your supple skin. He bites onto your panties, pulling them down your thighs with his teeth. So slowly, so sensually it almost feels surreal.

Once it's off, all of his attention is on your bare cunt, "dripping for me already and I haven't even touched you yet" "let's take care of that, yeah?" almost immediately, his face is buried in your heat, licking a long strip from your clit to your needy hole until he's back up, attacking your clit.

"Fuck, you taste so good" he practically moans out against your skin, sending vibrations through you.

Not long after the constant cycle of rubbing your clit and eating you like you were his last meal, he pulls off, spitting directly onto your slit and slides his middle and ring finger into you. His face returns to your cunt, repeating everything he did earlier, this time focusing on stimulating your gspot with his fingers.

“Right there! mmh” you whine out, trying to suppress your moans incase one of the guys outside wake up (which they wouldn’t even if you were to scream, because they’re all blacked out drunk).

“Don’t stop, please! fuck, gyu don’t stop” you feel him smirk against you. Your hands scurry the bed for something to hold onto when the pleasure starts to feel like too much. They finally reach to mingyu scalp tangling his hair causing him to moan out.

Without warning, his hands and lips detach from your pussy, earning pained a whimper from you feeling empty.

“Need to be inside you. Like now. i’ll make it up to you. Promise” he leans in, pulling you into another passionate kiss, hands busy with the him of your shirt “Take this off pretty. Wanna feel all of you.”

“Good girl” he hums once you do, kissing you as a reward. “Put me in”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated by his size. Not only was he long, but he was blessed in the girth department too.

You reach for him, holding the base of his cock to align it with your entrance. Once you start pushing the tip in, you’re scared you might not be able to handle the rest of him.

“That’s it, keep going you can take it.” he encourages. He glides in easily thanks to his fireplay earlier, but the stretch was alot. “Don’t worry baby i’ll make it fit.”

He gently moves your hand off of his dick where you connected and places his on your hips instead. “It’ll feel good soon, i promise” he whispers.

He slams every inch of himself into you all at once in a sharp motion. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re doing so good for me” his strokes are slow, but hard. Not missing your g-spot once. The pain turns to pleasure faster than you thought.

“You look so pretty like this” you’re unable to respond to the compliment, too consumed in how good he makes you feel.

Your nails graze his back, surely leaving marks. It drives him insane. the thought of you claiming him gets him so worked up his pace quickens, his pelvis snapping against yours.

Mingyu busies himself in your neck, leaving bites thatlll most definitely bruise before tomorrow.“Gyu m’gonna cum” you’re seeing stars.

“let it all go for me princess” that’s all it takes for you to release all over his cock.

His pace is constant, fucking you through your orgasm.

“Shit, that was so hot, good job pretty”

Your pussy clenches on him repeatedly, sending him closer to his edge. “Ass up” you obey as soon as he requests. Once you’re flipped over, he puts a pillow under your stomach ensuring your comfort.

“Took me so well just like i said you would”

In no time, he’s back to his previous pace, thrusting in and out of your soaked cunt. “Has anyone else ever made you feel this good?”

“No! fuck, only you gyu!” you can’t see him, but you can already assume (accurately so) that he’s got a smirk plastered across his face.

As he continues, you feel the coil from earlier build up again.

Mingyu holds your hand, pulling it under your body, between your lower tummy and the pillow, pressing it against the bulge that appears when he strokes all the way into you. “Do you feel me here?”

“Yes, god cumming again” he presses down against the bulge harder, adding more stimulation to your second orgasm.

“Good girl. Me too” he groans.

“Fill me up, gyu” he does exactly that.

“Fuck,” he chucked lowly “you can’t just say stuff like that, it makes me wanna ruin you”

“Then ruin me” you muster out through broken moans from the overstimulation.

Your walls are coated white, flodded with his release.

He still hasn’t pull out of you, not wanting to break contact.

“You mean that?” he says as he collapses onto the bed, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“Nah i was just kidding” of course, you’re only teasing. After this, he can do anything he wants to you.

“Uh huh, will you still be saying that when i ask you to sit on my face once you’re no longer sore?” he bites back at you.

“Shh go to sleep” you attempt to change the topic, aware that you’re playing a losing game.

“No sleeping yet pretty girl. Let’s get you cleaned up” and with that, he scoups you up bridal style, walking you to the bathroom and starts the shower for you two.

“My legs are wobbly because of you”

“Weren’t you just begging me to ruin you?”

“Okay whatever let’s get this over with i’m sleepy “ you sulk.

Mingyu spends most of the time in the shower focused on tending to you even though you reassure him you’re okay to do it on your own.

You’re in his clothes, cuddled up into his large arms. He can’t believe this is really happening. The girl he’s been inlove with since he was a teen is really here, right now, beside him like this.

“are you asleep?” he asks softly.

“depends” you respond playfully, making him roll his eyes.

“i’m really glad… this happened” his tone changes to a whisper, much more serious than earlier.

“Me too. i’d be even more glad if it happened another time?”

“Noted” he giggles, which turns into a yawn.

“goodnight, y/n”

“goodnight, gyu”

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in somehow even closer. You both fall asleep in a matter of minutes. your heart feels so full.

[ august 3rd 2023 ]

You wake up wrapped in Mingyu's embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest syncing with your own. As you shift onto your stomach, you lift your head to take in his sleeping face.

He looks utterly serene, the most angelic sight you've ever seen up close. Without thinking, your hand reaches up to cup his face, tenderly caressing his cheeks.

"I wish we could stay like this all day," you whisper, and his peaceful facade momentarily falters as a smile tugs at his lips.

"You sly little sh—" you begin, but yourwords are cut off as he flips you over, positioning himself on top of you.

"Let's stay like this then," he murmurs, burying his face in your chest, unwilling to let go of the warmth.

"But what about the guys?"

"What time do you think it is, baby?" he chuckles. "They all left, which is why I was already awake."

You glance at the clock on the nightstand. It's already 11 a.m.

"Don't blame me; you're the one who drained the life out of me last night!" You wince internally, regretting your choice of words as you notice him blush, his face hidden against your chest.

"Anyway, I made breakfast for you. Let's head to the kitchen," he says, and you can't help but think that Mingyu just keeps getting more perfect.

You spend the rest of the morning at his place, showering together, brushing your teeth, and lounging around in his clothes while eating and chatting casually. Well, almost casually. Mingyu finds every opportunity to steal kisses—at first, he says it’s to check for something on your lips, then it’s to blow an imaginary eyelash off your cheek. None of it is necessary, but you revel in his affectionate gestures.

Later, Mingyu insists you stay longer, but you have plans with Jiwon, your best friend, that evening. Reluctantly, you agree to leave, making a promise—thanks to Mingyu's persuasive charm—that you'll spend more one-on-one time with him later that week.

At the mall, Jiwon and you meander through a maze of shops, trying on clothes and chatting about everything under the sun. By the time you both concede to taking a break, your feet are sore, and your energy is depleted. You nestle into a comfy corner of a café, where you order a couple of steaming lattes and pastries, ready to unwind and catch up on life.

Despite your constant communication, there's always a treasure trove of new topics to dive into. Today, though, you’ve been brooding over how to drop some major news, and after much mental wrestling, you decide to take the plunge.

You're not sure how she'd react to the news about mingyu, so you decide to rip the bandage off all at once out of nowhere after hours of contemplation.

Jiwon’s eyes perk up immediately. "HE? YOU? Oh my god, stop! I’m going to pass out! YOU GUYS? Y/N?" Her shock and disbelief are palpable, reflecting your own feelings when you first wrapped your head around it.

You nod, a smile playing at your lips. "Yeah, I was just trying to figure out when and how to tell anyone."

Jiwon leans in, her face a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Well, now that we’re on this topic… how was it? Was he… you know… well-endowed?"

You laugh, feeling a flush of embarrassment mixed with amusement. "To sum it up in one word: heavenly. And yes, he’s definitely… well, impressive."

“Oh my god, this is amazing!” Jiwon’s eyes widen. “Honestly, I kind of saw this coming. He's always looking at you like he’s about to fall over from adoration. And even though you play it cool, it’s clear that you both have this crazy thing for each other but are too scared to admit it—probably because of the whole ‘maintaining the friendship’ thing.”

You cringe at how spot-on she is. “Okay, I won’t argue with your assessment. But you can’t deny that he’s seen me at my best and worst. He’s the best guy friend I’ve ever had, and it would be strange to end things since we share so many mutual friends.”

“Whatever’s meant to happen will happen, Y/N. Just do what feels right. I think that means letting whatever started with Mingyu last night continue.”

“Ugh, I agree. Thanks for being my moral compass, Jiwon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” In a spontaneous gesture, she grabs your hand.

You expect her to say something sentimental, but instead, she surprises you with her usual boldness.

“Cute. Now let’s go get you some lingerie to celebrate with your boy toy.” Jiwon’s lack of a filter never ceases to amuse you.

[ august 7th 2023 ]

Mingyu's at your apartment, finally able to hang out together like you decided on the last you met.

You're both on the couch, keeping fair distance whilst you watch 'Crash Landing On You' for the second time with him.

Halfway into the second episode, mingyu slides himself closer to your end of the couch, breaking the invisible barrier between the two of you.

"i miss you" he pouts, seeking your attention.

"i'm right here" you can't help but giggle at how stupidly adorable he looks.

He places a hand on your waist, reeling you closer to him. "I have an idea of something more fun we could do"

"Mhm, and what is that?' you inquire.

"Let me show you" he lifts you like you weigh nothing more than a feather, settling you on his lap allowing you to straddle him.

"Remember what i said about sitting on my face? Can you do that for me pretty girl?" his fingers dance on the elastic of your underwear, waiting for your permission before he goes any further.

"Yes i can, but can i taste you today instead, gyu?" your reply catches his off guard.

"Anything you want baby" the pet name sends shivers down your spine, encouraging you to act upon your urges and pulling him into deep kiss.

You get off of his lap, knees against the hard wooden floor, ridding him of his jeans whilst he tugs his shirt off. He's so fit.

His dick bulges through his calvins, fighting against the fabric. "Look at how hard you make me pretty"

You take his cock out of his boxers, almost salivating at the sight of it. His tip is crimson, begging for relief.

You wrap your hand around his shaft, drawing it closer to your face. You lick a long strip along it, coming back up and stopping at his tip and taking it into your mouth.

Once he's past your lips, he's a groaning mess. "Fuck, you're doing so well, keep going."

You take him in further gagging around him when he's all the way in, stuffing your throat. "Good girl. So good for me, shit"

His hands pull your hair into a loose ponytail, using the light grip to guide you. You bob your head, thrusting him in and out of your mouth at a steady pace.

It doesn't take long for you to find a rhythm, but it's not enough for him. He really just wants to be inside your cunt, so to speed up the process, "Can I fuck your throat baby?" his voice drops a few octaves down, losing himself in pleasure.

You nod in response, and that's all the confirmation he needs to push your head closer to his pelvis. He stands up to angle his dick better, thrusting in and out of your mouth, gradually reaching his climax.

Your eyes are full of tears, mascara running down your face tipping him over the edge. "Can you handle swallowing?" he asks through broken moans making you nod again. He holds you in place, reaching all the way down your throat where he releases his load.

He reaches out to hold your hand, pulling you to your feet, flush against his body into a kiss. "You're unreal".

He sits both of you back onto the couch in your previous position. "Please fuck me" you whimper out, too horny to care about how desperate that must've sounded.

"So bold" he smirks "Well, as my lady wishes"

He works on removing your bottoms while you unbutton the silk pajama shirt you're wearing. When you're finally stripped out of your clothes, he's in awe at the revelation of what you'd been hiding underneath.

"You're gonna be my demise" is the last thing he utters before yanking your panties to the side, lifting you to align your cunt with his cock, and slowly sinking you down on it.

You moan in unison at the feeling of the initial stretch. It feels like he's breaking you in two in the most divine way possible.

"Fuck, y/n nobody else can ever feel you like this."

"I'm yours mingyu, fuck!" you manage to whine out.

He holds your hips to slam you onto his dick. His free hand creeps up to your neck, choking you slightly as he fucks into you. It drives you insane, feeling him all the way inside you near your cervix. At some point, his cock really does kiss your cervix, causing you to sob out from the overwhelming pleasure mixed with that unfamiliar pain.

He doesn't fail to hit the spongy tissue in you even once. He changes position, laying you on your back with his hand still on your throat. Your vision suddenly blurs, a mix of white and stars clouds your mind with your eyes sealing shut.

You're squirting. All over him at that.

"Holyyy fuck," Mingyu groans out. "Y/n, fuck you're gonna make me cum" "Cum-" Youre interrupted by a wave of your orgasm crashing through your body "-in me"

And so he does. This might have been the hottest thing mingyu has ever experienced.

"You're clenching down on me so hard, fuck. oh fuck-" The overstimulation from his relentless thrusts sends you both over the edge.

"The couch" he says followed by an airy laugh, but you couldn't really care less about the mess right now.

"You have officially ruined me" you whisper with a fucked out smile.

"Good." he smiles back. his eyes linger on where you connect, pulling out of you and admiring the sight of his cum dripping out of you. "Fuck, can I take a picture of this?"

"Sure, just dont show it to anyone" his eyes sparkle at your response.

"It's cute that you think i'd share you" he uses two fingers to plunge into your tight, dripping hole and fucks his cum back into you. "so pretty" he pulls his phone out, snapping a picture of the image he's already embedded into his mind.

"Let's go clean you up"

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

A/N: this is a rewrite of one of my most popular one shots :] i intend to turn this into a series and the first version of it felt a little to scrappy for a chapter one! i hope you enjoy!

add yourself to the taglist

my masterlist

© all rights reserved soobibabe on tumblr. do not cross-post, copy or translate etc.

[sserpente]

Gifts and Roses

The other day, you saw a trend going around on the Internet where girlfriends shove some flowers into their boyfriends’ hands when they come home and then close the door on them only to then pretend their boyfriends got them for them. Now that sounds like way too much fun to pass up. Good thing Sylus is about to pick you up…

A/N: I saw this on the clock app just now and ran to write this. Have fun!

Words: 1162 Warnings: fluff

The trend was all over the Internet. It was funny if anything and your fingers were itching to try it with Sylus. For the laughs. And his reaction.

He was on his way to you now to pick you up to stay with him in the N109 zone over the weekend, spending some time with him, training together…perhaps you could even convince him to do a cheesy movie night with you.

For now, you’d found the perfect spot to hide your phone to record him. You’d strike when he was about to walk through the door. You looked at your Hunter’s Watch. Which should be any moment.

His knock came as if on cue. Confident, loud…how on Earth did he manage to make his knock sound dominant? You shook your head and quickly grabbed the flower bouquet you’d bought this afternoon. Two dozen red roses that smelled heavenly.

You giggled. Oh, you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. Next thing he knew, you opened the door energetically only to shove the flowers in his hands.

“Good evening, ki—”

Then, you shut it in his face again before he could finish his sentence. Five seconds passed, then ten. Enough time for you to cover your mouth with your hands to stifle a hysterical laugh. You had never seen him so taken aback before. Oh, that video was going to be gold!

Finally, he knocked again. You took a deep breath before you swung it open again. He was blinking as if I’d suggested he should start a singing career. “What…the hell was that?”

“Sylus! Oh, what, flowers, for me? Oh, you didn’t have to, that’s so sweet of you! Thank you! Come on in!”

Sylus tilted his head and smirked. “Your antics are getting crazier by the day. If you wanted me to bring you flowers, kitten, all you had to do was ask.”

Your heart skipped a beat when he handed the roses back to you and kissed your cheek in greeting.

“It doesn’t count if I have to ask for them. Besides, your expression was priceless. It…was mainly because of this Internet trend so I set up my camera to—”

Sylus shut you up with a wild kiss. “You recorded me?” he asked then, hands still cupping your cheeks.

“…Yeah?”

“You are testing my patience, kitten. One of these days, you will successfully get on my last nerve and claim it for yourself.”

You grinned. “Would you like some dinner before that happens? I ordered some food for us.”

Sylus nodded. Amused still, he watched you retrieve your phone and followed you into the kitchen where you put the flowers in a vase before you grabbed the still-warm bags of food from the counter to make your way over to the dining table. Sylus had taken a seat already, one of his legs draped over his knee. He was engrossed in his phone all of a sudden and didn’t even look up when you served the food and eventually joined him.

“Busy week?”

“Hmm? No…surprisingly, it wasn’t too busy.”

“Who are you texting then? Are you sending angry emails again?” You raised an eyebrow. Sylus had a knack for terrifying people with his emails. You felt sorry for the poor guy at the receiving end of this one.

“No. No angry emails this time.”

You cleared your throat. “Okay then…I guess I’ll just start eating.”

With a start, Sylus paused and met your gaze. “Are you upset?”

“No! No, I just…I’d rather talk to you than watch you type away on your phone while we eat is all.”

He gave you an amused but honest smile, put his phone back into his pocket without another comment, and picked up his chopsticks instead.

“Thank you. Oh, I forgot to tell you! I qualified for the Senior Hunter Contest this week! The trials are starting next week. Would you…train with me a little over the weekend?”

“Were you now?” He chuckled. “I expected no less from you, Miss Hunter. Well done. Of course, I’ll train with you. But only if you listen to me when I tell you to rest. Unlike last time, hmm?”

“I passed out once, are you going to hold this against me forever?”

He leaned forward as if to make a point. “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. So…how was your week?”

You both finished your meal chatting about dubious business deals, Luke succeeding in doing a backflip for the first time and an angry email Sylus did send out on Thursday. Once you were done and you’d cleaned up, he grabbed the bag you’d packed for the weekend and beckoned you to follow him.

You had been looking forward to riding his motorcycle again all week. His affinity for ignoring speed limits (or lack thereof) aside, it was one of your favourite ways to spend time with him. The thrill that connected Sylus and you on your way back to the N109 zone was truly unmatched.

You took a deep breath when you arrived and took your helmet off, inhaling the crisp night air. You absolutely had to put ‘go for a drive’ on your weekend to-do list as well. Perhaps he’d even let you drive yourself. You rather liked the idea of him wrapping his arms around you for a change.

“Come. You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not!” Your body made you yawn before you could stop yourself. Traitor.

Sylus smirked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to try and overthrow your sleep schedule every other weekend, kitten. I can stay up long enough for us to spend time together regardless.”

“I know but…”

“No buts.”

His large hand found your waist after he dismounted his bike himself, took your bag, and led you inside. Unlike what you had expected, however, he didn’t take you to his bedroom as usual but the guest room.

“I have some work I need to finish. I don’t want to disturb your rest.”

“I don’t mind. I like your bed better than—”

You paused when Sylus opened the door. The guest room didn’t look like you remembered it. Roses. Hundreds of them, decorating every single surface. Even on the bed, there were dozens of rose heads and the floor was speckled with fresh petals.

Your jaw dropped. “S-Sylus…”

“I had Luke and Kieran bring them to the guest room as soon as they were delivered.”

Delivered? “Wait…That is what you were doing on your phone during dinner? You ordered roses? Oh, Sylus…I feel bad now.”

“Don’t. My kitten wanted flowers so I got her flowers. And in the future…” He hugged you from behind, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. “…you better stock up on your vases, sweetie. And no more secret filming me, yes?”

You flipped around and grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I promise. But only if you stay with me until I’ve fallen asleep.”

Sylus smirked. “Deal.”

[pacifierbby]

★ *. * · 𝑱𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑺

𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫? you could write something about jealous Lando pleasee. Honestly, I don’t really know what it could be, fluff, smut, or angst. I’ll leave it up to you ♡

୨ৎ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 LN4 x reader

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 none

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓

-𝑵𝑨𝑽𝑰-

He could never understand why you dated so many dickhead men all of them lead to you ringing him up in the middle of the night crying for him to pick you up because yet another fight has occurred leading him to console you over a bottle of wine and some much-needed cuddles he just wished that you would open up and see everything he did for you was because he fell madly in love with you he was just coward to even tell you scared to even ruin the friendship between the both of you making him move into self-pity when you go crying to him wishing he would tell you how much he loves you. The day you told him that you've got another boy on the block that you think it's going really well and that maybe he's the one and not one toxic trait coming from him did massively hurt lando he just wished for your sake that that was true and that you found the one.

You and Lando chilling in his Monaco apartment the sun shining through the big bay windows giving you a soft glow "Hey Lando what are you doing tonight?" looking over to you "Uh nothing tonight was thinking off chilling in for the night" shrugging "well me and ben thinking about going to that new club if you want to join" making his smile instantly fade quickly smiling so you didn't notice "uh yeah sure" making sure that you didn't notice which you were more engrossed in your phone than him at the moment having this small feeling that something was going to go wrong tonight but he keep that between himself knowing it will probably cause a fight between you both the last time he announced his thoughts about your ex you told him that everything was wrong and stopped being an arsehole and that he was using you to get to him was completely wrong when later down the line he was right and you apologised massively for that and ever since then he watched you figure your ex-boyfriends out yourself.

Lando always knew how you felt after that and you told him that a couple of guys before that did try and use you to see him and ever since then he promised himself and to you that he would never bring the conversation up again knowing how much that it affected you which you were happy that he listened to you and your feelings Lando didn't know that deep down that you wished he was something more to you but just like him you was a coward to even tell him and that all these guys are just to push your feelings away from him and with Ben that worked greatly. As much as it hurt him it hurt you seeing him with so many women daily making you separate from him for a little which he never understood why but it was easier for you like that.

"Ben said that's great and we are going at 8 o clock is that okay for you?" looking away from your phone towards him "Uh yeah will it be fine for me to invite Margarida? Making your heart stop a little "Yeah yeah that's fine" getting up from the comfort of the couch "Well I'm going to go back to my apartment to get ready I think Ben is going to pick me up so I'll meet you at the club?" making Lando nod walking over giving you a side hug walking you over to his door.

He knew he shouldn't have asked if his recent hook-up could come but he really needed to get you and Ben out of his mind for the rest of the night only he could think that Margarida would be a better option other than alcohol quickly sending her a text. He never told you that she was a hook-up he just wanted you to automatically think that they were together hoping for some kind of reaction from you which you didn't really show. he doesn't know how long he can put this charade up for...

8 o'clock came quicker than he hoped the sun slowly moving down behind the clouds sighing and looking at himself in the mirror "Hey babe do you like my dress" rolling his eyes " Marg haven't I told you to stop calling me that?!" he couldn't really stand her voice at the moment "but yes yes I do now come on they're here" not even give her another chance to change the godamn dress for the seventeenth time that hour.

The new club was lively tonight well obviously they are all here for the same reason you are. Looking towards Lando I saw that he was more interested in the glass than whatever Marg was actually saying to him which was odd but you cant deny Lando had picked a really gorgeous girl slim, blonde hair a model all-check box list that you couldn't really check for him yes you was jealous of Marg knowing that she has something that you don't which you truly wished you had "hey Lando shall we get the drinks?" ben spoke interrupting your thoughts which honestly you was actually thankful for but looking at lando it's like his thoughts been interrupted to "uh yeah sure"

Lando looks over towards you every chance he can get to make sure you are okay "So you and Marg eh?" Ben spoke making his eyes leave you "' we're really not together she's just one of my huck-ups" taking a sip of his beer while waiting for the other orders "Oh well if we're on that category" Ben paused "I'm only with her because of you" making Lando look back at him furious his hands tightly around his glass "What!" Lando automatically wants to meet his hands with his face but he knows he cant "Well you're cool and she's your friend so she is my better option" he laughed a little not really observing that Lando was mad "Are you joking Ben that women has everything that you need why!" "well the sex is another good thing" that was it for Lando his fist connecting to his face.

However, y/n saw everything running towards the boys "What the hell Lando!" dragging Ben next to her and looking at his face "Tell her what you told me tell her!" Y/N looked confused towards Ben but only he smirked: "I don't know what you're talking about?" Lando's hands fisted once again "this dickhead told me he only wants you Y/N because you are my friend and I quote that sex is another good thing" She didn't want to hear more "Please tell me he's joking Ben please" but ben just shrugged and nodded "then Lando had the right to hit you and hear I am stupid defending your dumb arse" she didn't want to see her cry that just shows that he won Lando grabbed her hand walking her out off the club

"I'm so sorry Lando I'm so sorry to defend him over you I don't know what to say" the tears slowly coming out Landos hand automatically wiping them away "Listen love I totally understand you didn't know you didn't listen you wasn't their I get it" out off all the words Lando know what to do or say he knew how to console you and everyday you was grateful for it "shall we go home" you just nodded wanting to get away from this club.

Both Lando and Y/n are wide awake in two separate rooms both of them thinking the same things after tonight y/n truly knew her forever was and it was under her nose forever and honestly it only took for tonight to find out the jealous thoughts when he had women surrounding him wanting to just grab him and just be hers she felt silly letting all these men degrade her when there was one man who praised her made her feel loved and praised the floor she walked on. For Lando, he thought the same the constant jealousy for all the men that she dated.

y/n walked into Lando's room she just about saw his shadow wrapped around the quilt in his bed "Are you awake" she whispered his figure slowly waking up "Come here" his voice responded lifting his quilt covers inviting in quickly jumping in "Thank you for tonight Lando I couldn't thank you enough" Lando grabbed her hand she was thankful that it was dark but the blush she had on her face will probably make her like a tomato "can I be honest with you?" Y/N nodded "Uh Y/N I like you no I love you. you honestly don't understand everything I feel when you tell me you got another boy but after tonight everything I think is because I fell for you a while ago and I'm so sorry that it took me this long to tell you" Y/N leaned over turning the bedside lamp on looking towards Lando's eyes "honestly Lando it took me tonight when in bed with my own little mind to finally understand what I'm actually feeling is that I'm falling in love with you as well I just want to say thank you for making me feel the way I should feel from a man" Lando leant over wiping the tear away from her cheek the one she didn't notice that even left her "can I kiss you" Y/N nodded both of them connected they're lips and after that she knew that Lando was forever.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ © 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘣𝘺

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: a really long chapter part thing i fear . kisses .. maybe .. IM NOT SPOILING THIS

prev next

authors note: erm guys .. if im rushing this then do NOT pay attention !! I WANT THEM TO BE OKAY AGAIN JUST LIKE U GUYS I FEAR. I CANT HELP MYSELF. but do NOT think this is the end because this is NOT!! we still have to get through the rest of the second week + the wedding. and if u think about it, DAMN a lot happened in week 1 omg goodnight

anyway, if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3333

you keep your distance from him the next two days. you know you have to face him, and sometimes you do, but you’re stiffer than before. he knows better than anyone to maintain that gap until you’re okay again.

it just feels like your breakup with him all over again, but this time, for a different reason other than having too much time apart. this time, you’re all he spends time with but there just happens to be something getting in the way of that. another girl. it isn’t fair.

drew’s been trying to show in little ways that he’s sorry, but it doesn’t cut it for you. not yet. and you don’t want to lead him by a string and take advantage of him caring about you. but him bringing you breakfast, then trying to avoid you throughout the day until you’re back in libby’s bed again—it’s just frustrating.

you don’t even want to be there anymore. you don’t want to have to deal with this. but it’s for leila and theo, their day is coming up soon. you just want them to have a good time and then you can all separate ways and live your own lives again. how it’s always been and how it should be.

the guys are getting ready to visit town while the girls stay back. this isn’t for you though, and you’re grateful. gia proposed a self-care day after a package was shipped to the home, a large box of cookies, and safe to say you all agreed to the plan.

“i’ve been trying to get back into reading but i feel like i have no time sometimes,” leila’s telling you and the girls as you set up shop at the kitchen island.

there’s an array of face masks, moisturizers, rollers, oils, creams, other things they’ve wanted to try. gia even brings her diffuser and places it nearby as the tv in the living room plays.

“i recommend ‘doomsday’!” libby perks up from across the table. “i read it last summer and let me tell you, i bawled crying for a month straight.”

“y/n, you read,” leila says as she files her nails, crossing a leg over another. “what are your recommendations?”

“hey,” theo greets leila as he and the boys join you four at the table, each with their respective girlfriend besides libby and oscar, and technically you and drew. he hovers behind you but just merely nods his head to say hello. “we’re gonna head out.”

“oh, okay,” leila says with a small frown, but kisses him goodbye. “drive safe, alright?” you’re winking at roman who points at you to say to behave, but he kisses gia’s cheek before he’s following theo out.

you answer leila from earlier with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting to find ‘the last love letter’ but i haven’t really been reading lately. been too busy.”

gia mouth gapes open as she slams her hand on the table, nearly knocking something over. “shut up, i’ve been wanting to read that too!” she shrieks as libby tells her to be more careful.

you can only giggle at her while she gets off her seat and comes up behind you to pull your hair and tie it back.

“that book is literally nowhere, i swear the author only made like five copies of it.”

“have you guys read ‘self sabotage’?” leila asks as she and libby, already prepared, begin to place their face masks on.

you’re on the couch with the girls as libby records you on her phone. the box of cookies are opened and after careful review, you’ve all decided what to try first and what comes after that, and so on.

“now?” you ask libby if she’s ready, and she nods. you, leila, and gia take a cautious bite out of the pieces you’ve broken off of the first cookie. it only takes you a few chews in to realize how heavenly it is. gia even pretends to faint beside you.

“holy shit,” leila says as she covers her mouth, taking a look at the cookie with wide eyes. “are you serious?”

libby lunges at you with her phone to take it from her, “well now i wanna try it!”

you’re in a fit of laughter as you try to turn the camera around before she can sink her teeth in, but she’s too fast. your eyes widen at the girl, “libby, slow down!”

and eventually, you’re full of cookies and half of them are still yet to be tried. you agree with the girls to continue this matter tomorrow if the boys don’t eat it all themselves, and you know they will. you’re just glad you’ve already tried all the ones you really wanted to before then.

when the guys get home, it’s exactly what you anticipated. they bee line directly to the cookies on the coffee table, but not without greeting you all first.

theo groans as he takes a bite, roman right beside him to stuff a whole chunk in his mouth. “this is better than sex,” he murmurs while roman snaps his fingers several times. leila can’t help but nod in agreement.

“i feel cookie-drunk,” you say with your hand on your stomach, and gia curls up into your side as she holds onto hers. “what’d you guys get?”

roman is quick to reach into his bag and pull out a couple of keychains, as if he just got reminded about something. he tosses one at gia’s head, and you look over to see what it is.

“the world’s okayest girlfriend,” she reads aloud, and she chucks it back at him, no longer accepting the gift that roman laughs about. she gets up to see what else is in his bag, leaving drew to plop down next to you and libby, who’s on the other side of you this whole time.

she’s cleaning the ice cream off her spoon when she speaks up for you and her, “what’d you get?”

“few things,” he says as he lets you look inside for yourself.

you pull out a long box and open it. it’s a chain bracelet, sterling silver. it’s nice, and you nod with raised brows. there’s other things inside that you only glance at, but when you look up at him you notice the new pair of sunglasses that’s resting on his head.

you pull it off of him silently and place it on yourself, unspokenly thanking him for the temporary gift you’ll give back later but you like them so now they’re yours for a few hours.

drew purses his lips and closes his bag, assuming you’re done, so he gets up and starts heading upstairs. you look over at libby. without hesitation, she asks, “you okay?”

you hesitate, and you know she’s only asking this because this is one of drew’s brief interactions with you since a few days ago. but you shrug it off, “yeah, i’m okay,” you say.

libby doesn’t miss a beat, she’s not convinced at all. she knows you well enough to understand what ‘im okay’ really means is ‘i’ll be okay’. that it’s not okay, but it will be eventually.

she’s seen this look on you before, during the hardest parts of your relationship with drew. she can feel the unspoken words between them, the ones you don’t even need to say out loud.

“right,” libby says with a soft sigh. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “you’ll be alright,” she whispers. you know she won’t pry further, but knowing that whatever drew did, it was enough to hurt you again.

after a few moments, she pulls back and, with a small smile, asks, “wanna help me with dinner soon? leila thought it’d be nice to eat out in the backyard tonight, by the pool.”

you hum softly, nodding your head, “yeah, that sounds good.”

libby grins, “awesome. ‘cause it’s pizza night and i cannot do it alone.”

the next few hours blur together. you’ve successfully prepared the pizzas with libby and slid them into the oven. now you’re cutting into them and displaying them outside on the table.

it used to be bare, but someone since morning has gone out there to help decorate the backyard to make it just a little flashier. there’s a cloth on the table, which is scattered with candles, flowers, dishes, platters of cookies, fruits, a charcuterie board, and there’s a helpful variety of drinks.

fairy lights blink across the backyard, even over the pool, and it illuminates the whole place. you place the different pizzas in between each candle piece, which libby lights as you do. when you call everyone outside, you join together at the table.

and once theo leads you once again with the ‘i’m grateful for my future wife’ shit, you get to dig in. you’re pretty sure it was longer this time around and even roman started to just eat until he was kicked under the table by drew.

“fucking finally,” libby murmurs under her breath after theo concludes his speech, to which causes him to pick up an olive off the plate and toss it at her. “yeah, you’re so lucky i like olives,” she whispers to herself as she rearranges her napkin, “fucking loser.”

“libby,” you scold, though you can’t hide your laugh. she’s grinning when she looks up, silently laughing with you.

when you turn to drew on the other side of you, he’s taking large bites from his slice. he tilts his head back with a groan, then takes a longer look at the pizza as he chews.

“s’it good?” you ask, and he nods rapidly, and soon his body moves with it. you bring yourself to smile, grateful that people you care about like what you’ve cooked.

you reach over to take your own slice from each pizza and just stack it on your plate, planning on going through them one by one from the one on too being the one you least want to eat, and the last at the bottom being the one you’re most excited for—a ‘save the best for last’ type of thing. it’s silly but you do it anyway.

drew’s finishing up his bite when he leans into you gently. “i have to talk to you later, by the way,” he says, and it sort of startles you because at this point you’re just talking to libby.

you look at him with furrowed brows, but again, you’re not mad. you’re not upset with him. at least not in this moment, you can’t be.

and it looks like he’s grateful because he can see it too. “if that’s alright with you,” he says, then takes another bite. you just nod at him in silence, and watch as he turns back to oscar who’s on his other side before talking to him.

you look straight ahead where roman’s sitting, and he sends you a look. he heard drew talking to you, he knows it must be about something important, but it’s not what’s on your mind right now.

you shrug it off. “—tell you later,” you mouth to him, then turn to libby when you realize she’s talking to you again.

after dinner, gia and leila clean dishes while literally all of the guys clean up outside as a thank you to you and libby, who lay across the living room with bellies filled with food.

there’s a movie playing on tv that you can barely pay attention to, but you’ve been laying there for about an hour so if you really want to, you could. you just play into the laziness that you’re allowed.

you hold your phone above you as libby rolls around the carpet, or at least that’s what you last saw her doing before you looked away. you’re scrolling through texts with your manager as if a new message will come in.

“did elyse get back to you?” libby asks, a face-full of carpet and it sounds like she’s just a few feet away. “about the thing.”

“no,” you mumble, then turn your phone off and set it face-down on the carpet, just like libby. the side of your head is laying on your arm as you look at her. “i could go for another cookie.”

“you ate three!” libby’s muffled voice raises.

“and i’ll make it four,” you tell her, raising your volume back. you consider getting up but don’t feel like it. you can actually lay here forever—maybe.

“y/n,” you hear his voice. it’s drew.

and you get up immediately. he was so softspoken, so cautious with you. he’s entering the house with the other boys who must’ve finished outside, meaning it’s time to have his talk. you almost ask if you guys can just have it there if it’s not that important, but if that’s possible then he wouldn’t be trying to get you alone.

you look over to libby, who—at the sound of drew’s voice—peeked her eyes out to see what he wanted. she looks to you, and she understands why you have to go. she convinces herself to get up and find the remote so she can turn the volume up.

you know it’s for you and drew, and a part of you wants to nudge her or be offended, and you do. is this going to be normal behavior in the house? turning up the volume just for you and drew when you guys need to have these ‘talks’ that are just screaming practice in disguise?

you’re almost embarrassed but you know that you’d rather have this than let them hear you two upstairs.

you follow him to your room, or technically his room as of three nights ago, and he lets you inside first. there’s a chilling feeling when you realize what’s about to happen and you feel like he’s literally about to murder you.

the room is clean, for the most part. you didn’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t take care of this room regardless if you’re in it or not. his bed isn’t made and his backpack’s on the edge of it, opened and rifled through.

you look to him when you’ve entered, and he nods toward the bed, as if to say he would rather you sit there while you listen to what he has to say, so slowly, you make your way over and settle down on the edge.

drew pulls out a chair from the desk across the bed and turns it around, pushing it closer to you. you’re surprised that he’s doing a whole setup just to talk to you. maybe he really is going to kill you.

“i haven’t been honest at all . . . since we started talking again,” he begins as he sits down in front of you. you stay there and close your mouth. you want to hear what he has to say, even if it ends terribly. you need to hear what he’s been thinking. “so i’d like to tell you everything about this past year if you’re okay with that.”

you shrug and gesture to let him have the floor. “please,” you insist with a nod.

he sighs as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “there’s . . . mila," he starts, and even though you knew this conversation was coming, it still stings when you hear her name.

“i guess you could call it a situationship or whatever,” he says before he catches himself, realizing how that sounds. “i mean, to me, it felt like that. but i think—” he pauses, chewing on his words. “no, she definitely saw it as more. she always viewed it as a relationship.” he glances at you, watching for your reaction, but you just sit there, waiting.

he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. “we just weren’t on the same page. i was . . . i was using it to distract myself, if i’m being honest. and i know that’s not fair. i knew it even then. but it felt easier than than facing what i was actually feeling at the time.”

he continues, “i told myself it was nothing, but i knew, deep down, it wasn’t fair to her. she didn’t deserve to be strung along like that.”

you feel your chest tighten, but not from jealousy. it’s you knowing that someone else had been hurt in this too, someone who had clearly thought there was more between them. “does she know? about this?” you ask him.

he flinches slightly, as if the concern you’re showing for mila makes this even harder to explain for him. he hesitates, “i officially ended things with her three nights ago. the night you confronted me about her. i told her it was over, that i couldn’t keep pretending things were fine when they weren’t. she didn’t take it well. and honestly, i don’t blame her.”

you’re quiet for a moment—so he’s decided to keep you and him a secret from mila? to spare both his and her feelings? you aren’t sure if you should bring light to it or just push it aside. you did say before that it was ultimately his decision.

“i’m glad you told her,” you say carefully, but there's a pause before you add, "but i can’t imagine how confusing this must be for her.” you shift in your seat, rubbing your palms on your knees. “i mean, from her perspective, this whole thing must feel like it came out of nowhere.”

he swallows hard, nodding. “yeah, it wasn’t fair to her. not at all.”

there’s a beat. he looks at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. “i told her about you,” he says. he’s quiet, as if he’s afraid of the confession. “i told her that i’m . . . that i’m still not over you. that i don’t think i ever really was.”

what?

you blink, startled by his words, though in a way, you’re not entirely surprised. you’ve felt the tension between you two from the moment you started talking again, but hearing him admit it, finally saying it out loud . . .

his voice is rough, like he’s forcing himself to continue. “but that’s why things with mila were never real. not for me, at least. i kept telling myself i could move on, that i could just forget, but every day i’d realize i wasn’t. i couldn’t let go of you.”

“but you broke up with me, drew,” you remind him. “that doesn’t necessarily sound like you’re in love with me.”

“i didn’t break up with you because i didn’t love you,” he says, his brows furrowed. “i do, more than i’ve ever loved anyone else.” his eyes meet yours briefly before dropping to his hands, which he’s fiddling with in his lap. “like, it was the opposite. i felt like i wasn’t enough for you. like i was failing you.”

you feel your breath hitch in your throat, but you don’t interrupt. you sit up on the bed.

he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. “our jobs, the schedules, the distance . . . it was tearing us apart, you know? and every day, i’d think about how i wasn’t giving you what you deserved. we were supposed to click, supposed to last, but i felt like i was just holding you back.” his voice is quiet, and he rubs his forehead slowly. “and i couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me when i could never give you the time you needed. it was eating me alive.”

you stay quiet, but tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his words hit hard, and you feel like everything that was left unsaid was finally coming to light now—there were arguments that could’ve been avoided, the misunderstandings that built up. he was overthinking, spiraling, and instead of talking to you, he made the decision for both of you.

“and i just kept thinking, like . . . ‘she deserves someone who can be there for her, really be there. someone who can come home to her every night’. i wasn’t that guy. i’d go days without seeing you, weeks even, and it broke me.” he swallows hard again, shaking his head. “i convinced myself that you’d be happier with someone else. someone who wasn’t always on some stupid set, always busy.”

your heart aches as you watch him, his guilt written all over his face. you lean forward and whisper, “but you don’t get to decide that for me, drew. we make decisions together. or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“i know,” he mutters, his tone regretful. “i know that now. but back then, i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought i was . . . protecting you, i guess. from me.”

you shake your head, wiping at the tears that are now falling freely. “protecting me from you? drew, i never, ever wanted anyone else. i wanted you. i didn’t care about the schedules, or the distance. i would’ve waited, and we could’ve figured it out. together.”

his eyes finally meet yours again, and for the first time, you can see the depth of his regret. “when we broke up, i tried. god, i tried to move on. i tried to find something, you know? but i was always looking for you.” he takes a shaky breath. “every girl i met, i’d compare them to you. i’d look for pieces of you in them, trying to find something familiar, something that felt right. but it never worked.”

you knew he had tried to move on, but hearing that he was always searching for you in others, that no one ever compared. it leaves you speechless for a moment. if that’s what happened, then why invest so much time into mila?

you finally gather the courage to ask, “mila. did she . . . was she like me?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but you need to know.

“no,” he admits, shaking his head. “not really. mila was cool, and she’s . . . she’s great in her own way. but no. she wasn’t like you.” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. "but i remember i wanted her to be."

he didn’t try to replace you with mila, but it was clear that he had been searching for something, anything, to fill the void you left behind. and it never worked.

“no one’s ever going to compare to you, y/n,” he continues, “i realize that now. it took me a while, but i’ll always search for you in everyone, and it’s never going to be the same. it’ll never feel the way it felt with you."

for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally getting the truth. the real, unfiltered truth about why things ended the way they did. he wasn’t running because he didn’t care. he was running because he thought he wasn’t enough for you. and now, he’s sitting here, telling you everything he couldn’t say before.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now, on the verge of crying. “i’m sorry for walking away. for not talking to you about it when i should’ve. i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you, and scared that i never would be.”

you can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, but there’s also a strange sense of closure. you’ve needed to hear this for so long, to understand why things fell apart the way they did. and now, you finally do.

“i messed up,” he says, “i messed up everything, and i know it. but i never stopped loving you and i’m . . . i’m still in love with you.”

you stay silent, blinking away the burn in your eyes, trying to absorb what he’s saying. part of you feels relief, but another part of you is cautious. you’ve been hurt before like this. by another and by him.

he watches you closely, and it feels like the longer the silence is, the more anxious he gets. “i know this doesn’t fix anything, and i’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. i just needed to tell you the truth. i needed you to know that mila . . . ? mila was never you. no one is.”

the room feels too small suddenly, too full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with. you take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, but all you can manage to say is, “why now, drew? why are you telling me this now?”

his gaze softens, “because i didn’t want to lose you again. not without you knowing the truth.”

you can only look down at your lap. your vision blurs as you try to focus on your fingers, interlocked and tense in your lap, the pressure in your chest is tightening by the second.

you don’t trust yourself to speak just yet, so you hold everything in, to find the right words, but nothing comes out.

when you finally lift your head to look at him, the tears are already pooling in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over, but it’s useless. without saying anything, he stands up and pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as your face presses into his chest, and it’s like the dam inside you finally breaks. the tears fall freely now, your body shaking as you cling to him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you—something you’ve missed so desperately.

and it’s not just about the last few days. it’s about the past year of missing him, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. and you can tell drew needed this too. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to hold together everything that’s broken between you both.

you stay like that for a long time, the sound of your quiet sobs muffled by his chest, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back as if to soothe the ache inside you. it’s a comfort you haven’t felt in so long, and it is exactly what you’ve needed.

toward the end of it, your face still pressed against his chest, you mumble something, your words half muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he loosens his hold just a little, enough for you to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe. “i . . .” you take a shaky breath, your hands still gripping his arms, and when you finally meet his eyes again, you whisper, “i never stopped loving you either.”

the words hang between you, raw and honest, and as soon as you say them, you see the way his expression softens, like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting to hear.

his lips crash into yours, urgent and insistent. his fingers tighten against the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. his lips coax yours open, deepening the kiss, and he swallows the whimper that escapes you.

his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on the bed. he kisses you like he's been starved of you, his tongue swirling against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your face, your neck, your hair. this is what he’s been waiting to do.

his hands trail down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “stay with me tonight?”

you can’t get enough of him, and although you know that everything can’t be completely fixed over just one conversation, sleeping and waking up in the same bed as him isn’t hurting anyone.

you nod, a soft smile on your face that causes him to grin. but he pulls away slowly hesitating for a moment, his smile growing a little wider as he reaches past you into his backpack, his fingers rummaging around as if he’s searching for something precious.

you watch him, curiosity bubbling inside you. what could he possibly have?

“hold on,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and filled with warmth, and you smile as you press another kiss to his.

finally, he pulls out a book, holding it out toward you with a look of pure joy on his face. you take a look at it but almost don’t even catch it the first time until a second later. your heart skips a beat as you recognize it—the last love letter.

“shut up,” you say, taking it into your own hands to see if it’s real. and of course it is.

he nods, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “i heard you talking about it with the girls before we left earlier,” he explains, but he knows you can tell already that much. there’s a goofy look on his face as he wipes underneath one of his eyes. “i knew how much you wanted it and i saw a copy in town, so . . .”

“no, shut up. i can’t take this,” you exclaim, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “star.” the words spill out, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. it’s not just the gift; it’s the thought behind it that strikes a chord deep within you. you trace the cover with your fingertips as if it’s a treasured artifact.

he watches you intently. “i wanted to,” he assures you. “i heard it, i thought it would mean something to you.”

your gaze shifts from the book to him. “thank you, it does,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you blink out a few more tears.

you set the book aside momentarily, throwing your arms around him once again. the embrace feels like a lifeline. you hold him tightly, your heart racing as you bury your face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. the world outside fades away, and in this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, a bubble of intimacy where everything feels right again.

after a long pause, as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can see the softness in his eyes. “you really didn’t have to do this,” you say again, looking down at the brand new book. “but it means the world to me that you did.”

he grins, “i know it’s just a book, but i wanted to show you that i’m here—like, really here this time.” and you are so glad he is.

“i missed this,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he closes his eyes for a moment, and you continue to explore the pages of the book, though your thoughts keep drifting back to him. aw you run your fingers through his hair, it dawns on you how much you've missed this—this connection, this easy banter, the comfort of being together.

“i missed us,” you finally admit, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right again. it all floods back to you.

he shifts slightly, leaning in closer, and his arms slide to wrap around your waist as he lays his head on your shoulder to take a look at your book with you, his voice in relief as he mumbles, “me too.”

and you’re happy, it all just feels like your dream again.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull @lovelylupin04 @ecstqzy @dasguccier

[pitchsidestories]

all's well that ends well II Lucy Bronze x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2010

a/n: hi, we hope you enjoy the full length oneshot to the snippet we posted last week. 🫶🏻

“You!”

Your voice was high-pitched and cracked slightly at the end of the question.

You didn’t care.

There was no way, she was actually here. You had heard the rumours but hadn’t believed any of it. And now she was actually here, right in front of your eyes, on the Chelsea training grounds.

She actually did it.

You watched her through narrowed eyes, subconsciously clenching your jaw.

She smiled brightly at you: “Yes, me. Good morning to you too, pretty girl.“

There it was, that typical smug smile. Lucy Bronze, just like you wanted to forget her.

“Don’t call me that.“, you warned her.

Bad enough that she was here, you didn’t need her stupid remarks.

She remained unbothered, teasing you some more: “Oh, someone woke up in a bad mood.“

“No, only still stuck in a nightmare called Lucy Bronze.“, you replied, taking in the unfamiliar sight of her in the blue Chelsea training shirt.

From the look on her face she clearly interpreted it as you checking her out.

You cringed.

“A nightmare, huh?”, she repeated with a grin.

You wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid self-assured smile off her face.

“Dressed in Chelsea colours. Why did you come back? And of all clubs you had to choose mine?!”

You half-expected her to crack another joke but instead, her face turned serious.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t come here for you. I came for what the club had to offer.“

“In other words, Barca didn’t want you anymore.“, you taunted her.

You watched, waiting to see her face fall but it never did. She just cocked her head and replied: “Cold. But essentially yes, they didn’t guarantee me a spot in the starting squad so I left.“

Before you could stop yourself, you released a humourless laugh.

Following Lucys confused look, you explained: “You always leave when it gets uncomfortable. See you on the pitch.“

You turned around and took exactly two steps towards the football pitch before you heard Lucy catching up to you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? If you really think that you don’t know me well enough.“, she asked, her voice finally conveying some anger.

“Oh, I do know you.“, you shrugged and left her standing on the sideline of the pitch, joining your teammates for the warm-up.

To your surprise, she jogged up next to you, clearly not done with the conversation yet. “Sure. Of course you know me better than I know myself. You’ve always been such a know-it-all.“

You huffed in offence but before you could protest, she increased her pace and left your side.

In her place, Sam Kerr appeared with a curious look on her face: “Wait, you and Bronzey got history?”

“Yes, it was a long time ago though and I don’t want to talk about it, okay.”, you revealed reluctantly.

“Aw man, I love a good break up story.”, the Australian forward replied pouting.

“I know you do Sammy, but you won’t hear that one.”, you told her.

“I’ll figure it out sooner or later.”, she declared confidently.

“Don’t you dare asking Lucy about us.”, you warned your teammate.

“I’m sure she’ll tell me.”, Sam responded winking.

Much to her actual surprise the English defender did open up towards her, once it was just the two of them in an empty room.

“Our story is quick to tell we were together for quite a while, I went to another club, so we tried to do long distance, yet it didn’t work out.”

“And she thinks it’s your fault?”, Sam questioned.

“Obviously and she’s talking about comfortable all she has ever known is English football.”, the older woman shrugged.

The forward took a moment to think about what she just said before humming. “Oh, this is going to be a very interesting season.”

“Admittedly, I did a few things wrong in the past and there isn’t much I regret but these I do.” Memories of the moment Lucy regretted the most passed behind her inner eye.

“That’s too much information. I didn’t come for a deep dive.”, Sam intervened chuckling.

“Come on girls, don’t dally.”, Millie who stood in the doorframe called for them.

“She thinks she has something to say around here now that she has an honours doctorate.”, the forward rolled her eyes playfully.

“We’re ready, Doctor Bright.”, the dark-haired defender reassured the blonde with a teasing grin on her lips.

“Good to hear, Doctor Bronze.”, Millie answered happily.

A few days had passed since your conversation with your ex-girlfriend. During and post training you tried your best to ignore her. You were about to leave the Chelsea grounds, but a familiar voice held you back.

“Can we talk?”

“Now?”, you wanted to know.

“Yes.”, Lucy nodded.

“Fine, but be quick, I don’t have much time.”, you stated in an icy tone crossing your arms impatiently.

“Then you’ve to make some time.”, she emphasized.

“What do you want to talk about?”, you asked short-temperedly.

“About us. This is getting ridiculous. How’re we supposed to play together when you ignore me all the time?”, the defender countered eagerly awaiting your response.

The late afternoon light enhanced her tan, and her green eyes were glowing. You couldn’t help to admire the woman in front of you, but when you remembered what happened between you two and acid formed in your mouth, so you spat out words as cruel as the taste of that. Sentences you knew would hurt her.

“You’re less quick and sharp nowadays. Also how am I supposed to trust you on and off the pitch?”

Lucy blinked at you. Her face frozen, not slightest slip. Shaking her head, she replied: “You really have a way of making someone feel welcome here.“

“I’m normally more welcoming to our new signings… making sure they settle well into London…“

You stopped yourself from continuing and bit your lip. Why did you now feel the need to prove to her that your were actually good person?

“But not to me, I got it.“, she said, almost reading your exact next thought. She should know that you didn’t welcome her here.

“You’re a whole different story.���, you said plainly.

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of her arms crossed in front of herself. The little hairs stood up, small bumps forming around them. She had goosebumps.

“You’ll need a jacket. The evenings can already get cold.“, you advised her, trying to let no empathy seep through.

At once, you felt glad that you remembered to wear a long-sleeved shirt to training. You absentmindedly pulled the sleeves over your hands.

Your ex just rolled her eyes: “You act like I’ve never been to England.“

“You’re freezing. I can see that from here.“

“Yeah, this is obviously not Barcelona. But I’m not new here.“, she replied with clear annoyance.

You refused to let her have the point. “True but you never played in London though.“

“No, I didn’t.“

“See.“

It was petty but you won. You turned to walk away from her like you had done so many times in the past few days but again she wouldn’t let you. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back in one swift movement.

“Where are you going? We’re not done here.“

You sighed in frustration: “I won’t ignore you in training anymore. Happy?”

“No.“

“There’s more?”, you frowned at her.

“Of course, it’s not done with that.“

Eyebrows raised, you waited for an explanation: “So?”

“We should talk about us too. And what happened.“, she suggested.

Your heart stopped for a second, your lungs felt deprived of air and you couldn’t do anything but stare at her for a second. There was no way you would bring that break up back again. You both knew how it had ended.

“Another time, okay?”

“Y/n…“

You forced yourself to a half-smile: “See you tomorrow.“

You found yourself in the starting line-up for the next friendly at Stamford Bridge. You would be playing on the right wing, in front of Lucy. And despite all your doubts, the game went well.

More than well, to be honest. It was like you had never been apart. Lucys typical runs forward gave you the opportunity to move towards the centre and position yourself in the penalty areas. One of her crosses was so precise that you only had to tilt your head to put the ball into the net.

“Amazing game, girls. The season is off to a great start.“, Millie cheered as she high-fived you way too hard.

“Yeah, thanks for the assist, Luce.“

“You’re welcome. I still know your movements on the pitch.”, Lucy waved it off while the look on her face was melancholic. There was a hint of fondness in her voice too.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about your playing style.”, you bit your lip guiltily.

“I know.”, the defender sounded almost amused.

“Good.”, you sighed relived.

“Don’t worry.”, the older woman added quickly.

“Bye Luce.”

“See you, y/n.”, Lucy watched you go with a sad smile.

“Lucy? You two are so weird.”, Millie tapped on the dark-haired defender’s shoulder.

Irritated she turned around to face her team’s captain. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you finally talk about it?”, the blonde asked frustrated.

“I try to, but she always runs away.”, the older player explained annoyed.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out for you.”, Millie promised.

And the Chelsea captain stayed true to her words.

It was the next day when you found yourself locked in a room with your ex-girlfriend.

“Sam, Erin, that’s not funny, let us out!”, you commanded, hammering your hands against the door. You felt like a mouse stuck in a trap.

“Do you hear anything, Erin?”, you heard the Australian ask the Scottish midfielder. The reply wasn’t audible to your ears because Lucy had started to speak.

“They’ll open the door again once we talked about us.”

“That’s so childish of them. To talk about us? That’s history.”, you grumbled.

“Of course. It’s obviously not history for you if you keep pouting about it.”, the defender observed

“I’m not pouting, I’m so over you at this point.”, you corrected her.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”, your former lover sounded unconvinced.

“You really broke my heart back then.”, you confessed quietly, your voice full of the sadness and hurt from days in the past when the breakup was still fresh like a open wound you thought would never heal.

“I didn’t do anything.”, she remarked calmly.  

“Yes, you did you left.”, you disagreed fiercely.

“I left because I had to. After you assured me, long distance would work.”, Lucy defended herself.

A grieving smirk appeared on your face, you remembered your old self, what a fool she has been. “I thought it would, but it didn’t that happens.”

“Yes, it happens. So, stop blaming me for leaving it was a mutual decision.”

“It wasn’t your fault- Cam we leave now?”, you directed the question towards the people who kept you in that room.

“Nope, you know what we want to hear.”, Sam declared grinning.

“Lucy, what does she want from us?”, you wanted to know.

“I’ve no idea., she admitted before continuing, we won’t get back together, Sam. That won’t work.”

“Exactly.”, you added quickly.

“That’s not what we want. Keep talking and you’ll see.”, the forward insisted.

“What if we begin again? Like we just met for the first time.”, Lucy suggested.

“Wait, what?”, you frowned.

“We can start over.”, she offered in a hopeful tone.

“You mean as in strangers who get to know each other?”

“Maybe.” , she nodded knowing fully well you’d never be a stranger to her.

“And we don’t know where this leads to?”, you felt your heart flutter against your chest, the door was open again and you both stepped into the unknowing. The past was the past the future was uncertain, all you could influence was the present.

All's well that ends well. Yet this was only the beginning and the closing of one chapter of your relationship.

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

Baby, I'm a rockstar (M)

★  PAIRING: Mark x Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 12k

★ GENRE(S): Band! AU, Exes to lovers, Angst, smut, fluff

☆ SUMMARY: After your boyfriend breaks up with you to focus on his music career, you devise a scheme to get back at him by attending his band’s open auditions. To both your surprises, you end up joining the band. It would be foolish not to seize this opportunity for some well-deserved revenge.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, cigarettes, alcohol 

☆★ NOTES: Its crazy to think this is my first Mark fic, i hope you all enjoy cause boy is it a ride. 

Things were changing: the seasons shifting, the academic year progressing, friendships evolving. Change was a constant force, often leaving you breathless, but in the midst of it all, there was Mark—your anchor, your unwavering constant. You thought your relationship would never change, that it would always be a fixture in your life. You believed you and he would last forever

Until you didn’t.

You gave your friends a quick wave as you headed toward the familiar black hatchback. You often teased Mark about it, calling it his "mom car," and he’d laugh it off, insisting it was just right for all his gear.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you felt that familiar rush of comfort wash over you. You leaned over and planted a quick peck on his cheek. “Hey babe,” you call out.

Mark looks a little stiff, offering a forced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey, how was class?” he asks shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb.

“It was good! Do you have anything planned later?” you ask, trying to gauge if he's up for hanging out.

“Um, yeah, no… I’m meeting up with the guys, I think,” he replies after a pause.

You watch him, your gaze fixed on his side profile as he focuses on the road. Something feels off. Normally, Mark would be all over you—his hand would be wrapped around yours, and at the red light, he’d lean over to pepper your face in kisses. But today, there's none of that. Just an uneasy silence hanging between you like a thick fog.

The light turns green, and he accelerates, leaving you with a curious pit in your stomach. "Is everything okay?" you ask, trying to break the tension.

“Yeah, of course,” he says a little too quickly, his gaze still locked on the road ahead. But you can sense there’s something he’s not saying, and it gnaws at you.

“Hmm,” you respond softly, a quiet acknowledgment that feels heavy in the air. The rest of the ride passes in silence, an uncomfortable hush that wraps around you both.

When Mark parks in your driveway, you step out of the car, ready to shake off the tension. But instead of following you inside, he leans against the car and pulls out a cigarette. He still hasn’t looked at you.

“Are you not coming in?” you ask, a hint of confusion creeping into your voice. He knows he’s not allowed to smoke inside, so it feels frustrating that he’s choosing to linger outside like this. You just wanted to curl up with him for a little after a long day, let the warmth of his presence wash away the weight of your worries.

He takes a drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifts lazily into the evening air. “I just need a minute,” he replies, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the driveway.

Your heart sinks a little. “A minute?” you whisper to yourself, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. You want to push him to come in, to bridge the growing distance between you. Instead, you stand there for a moment, hesitant on the threshold of your own home, unsure of what to do next.

“We should break up,” he says after blowing a billowing cloud of smoke into the air, his voice flat.

You want to laugh, a harsh, incredulous sound that seems so out of place. This has to be some kind of joke, right? But the way he's been acting leaves you fumbling for certainty. You take a hesitant step towards him, the pit in your stomach growing heavier. “Mark? What are you talking about?” you say, your throat tightening painfully.

“I don’t have time for a relationship. I need to focus on my music. We’re starting to take off, and it’s getting more demanding. It wouldn’t be right to drag you along,” he explains, finally meeting your gaze. The way he looks at you is so pitiful it makes your blood boil, filling you with a blend of anger and heartbreak.

“You fucking asshole,” you sneer, fury clashing with the sadness pooling in your chest. Every emotion you’ve been holding back erupts in that moment. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! HOW COULD YOU!” you cry out in anguish, your voice wavering.

Mark takes a step toward you, his hand instinctively outstretched in a gesture of comfort. But you take a step back, needing to distance yourself from him, from the whirlwind of conflicting feelings. Your heart races as the world around you seems to spin.

Without another word, you turn and rush inside, tears threatening to spill over, rage and sorrow colliding in a chaotic storm within you. You close the door behind you, leaning against it, trying to catch your breath. You can’t bear to look back at him.

You hated Mark Lee’s guts.

Your phone buzzes with a notification—open auditions for a lead vocalist.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting Mark’s band to seek a replacement so soon. Although you unfollowed Mark ages ago and deleted all your posts together, you must have neglected to unfollow the band’s page. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice, a reluctance to sever the last connection to Mark. Regardless, you can't help but admit that you still find yourself stalking the page from time to time.

You remember their recent post announcing the departure of their lead singer, and for a moment, the temptation rises to text Mark, taunting him with a message like, "Haha, the thing you left me for bites you in the ass," but you hold back. Still, you can't shake the feeling, and as you scroll through the band’s photos, anger bubbles within you; this band—the very reason he chose to leave—seemed incapable of holding itself together. In a burst of impulse, you grab your jacket and keys, not fully aware of why you feel compelled to go.

As you pull up, the screech of mic feedback cuts through the air, causing you to wince as you approach the commotion. Peeking inside the garage, you spot a small crowd gathered around the center of the garage. Behind the microphone, someone stands, belting out a song you don’t recognize. Judging by the expressions of the band members, it’s evident that this person is struggling to find the rhythm.

You scan the crowd, but there's no sign of Mark, and the unfamiliar vocalist finishes just as your eyes land back on them, leaving the mic open.

"Anyone else wanna give it a shot?" Renjun, one of Mark’s bandmates, calls out. This prompts a wave of glances around the room; it seems everyone else has already had their turn. Suddenly, the attention shifts to you—the unexpected newcomer.

Renjun's eyes widen when he recognizes you, and you realize you have only moments before he runs to tell Mark you're here. Determined, you step up to the mic and introduce yourself, quickly glancing at the drummer, Jaemin. You whisper the song you want to sing, and he nods, finding the beat. As your voice fills the garage, your hands tremble around the mic, the nerves washing over you—you had just wanted to see Mark and maybe annoy him a little, but now you find yourself standing here, uncertain of what you're even doing.

As your final note hangs in the air, a few scattered claps emerge, and when you look up, Mark’s piercing glare meets yours. Once the performance wraps up, and before Mark can get his hands on you, the band members gather inside to discuss. Engaging in conversation with another girl while sipping refreshments from a cooler, you find yourself anticipating what the outcome of the meeting will be. You try not to feel ridiculous for sticking around, you doubt they will choose you but you're secretly hoping to rile Mark up a bit more afterwards.

When the trio of Renjun, Jaemin, and Mark steps out, isn't until now that you realize Jeno had been missing today. Your heart races with curiosity.

"We have decided we want to move forward with Y/N," Renjun announces, and as applause breaks out from the other participants, the girl beside you gives an excited thumbs-up.

Initially stunned by the announcement, a rush of satisfaction fills you when you notice the look on Mark's face—his expression is a mix of annoyance and frustration. Its clear as day that he did not want you to join. You’re full of pure joy, knowing that your presence is likely to ruffle his feathers a bit.

"Nice to meet you, I'm—" Renjun begins, but is abruptly interrupted as Mark rushes past him, grasping your wrist with urgency.

"Sorry, I just need to talk to her for a moment," he says, tugging you into the house. The door closes behind you, drowning out the sounds of the others. As he finally turns to face you, he looks bewildered, as if grappling with thoughts he cannot fully articulate.

"What are you doing here?" he questions, brows furrowed.

“I heard about the audition, obviously,” you reply, grinning.

“The joke’s over, okay? You can go home now,” Mark says. “I know you're only joining to get back at me!”

“Hmm, not quite. I'm also joining to sleep with Jeno,” you reply, shrugging nonchalantly as you lean against the wall, trying to mask the flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Where is he by the way?"

Mark crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Right, because you couldn’t possibly be interested in the music.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Oh, please. I live for music. But let’s be real; having a shot at a date with Jeno is a nice bonus. Just imagine how awkward that’ll make it for you when you see us together.”

His face twists up, but you can’t quite tell if he’s more irritated by your boldness or the idea of you moving on. You relish in the tension, eager to remind him of everything he's lost. After all, he left you for the band, and now you were back, ready to disrupt his world just like he had disrupted yours.

“You're childish and you're wasting my time. I know you don’t really care about this,” Mark snaps, exasperation etched across his face.

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you retort, arching an eyebrow. A smirk creeps onto your lips as you continue, “ I'm sure your band members agree. They voted me in, remember?” You watch as he clenches his jaw, trying to reign in his frustration. “And the last time I checked, you needed a singer—and now you’ve got one.”

“You—” Mark starts, but then he stops mid-sentence, clearly grappling with his emotions.

“Huh? What’s that?” you prompt, leaning in slightly, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the air crackles with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that wants to lash out versus the part that knows you’re right. It’s almost satisfying to watch him struggle, to see the realization that his band’s fate now rests in your hands. The smile on your face widens, fueled by the thrill of the challenge and the satisfaction of reclaiming your voice—both in music and in this ongoing rivalry.

“Let me catch you slip up, I’ll give you hell” He spits, shoulder-checking you on his way out, heading back to the garage.

Oh you were going to have so much fun fucking with him.

You step into the garage, trying to portray an air of confidence even though you feel anything but. You probably should have let it go by now, telling them to pick a different vocalist because you had successfully gotten what you came here for but a part of you still wants to annoy Mark.

It’s the same place where the auditions went down, and while you’re familiar with Jaemin, you've never actually been to his house before then. It’s massive, which makes you wonder why some rich kid is wasting his time with an indie band. You already know all of Mark’s bandmates, but it’s just casual acquaintance stuff.

The garage was spacious with two big doors, and string lights draped across the ceiling, casting a cozy glow as twilight settled in. You clear your throat to announce your presence, and in the far corner, you catch a glimpse of Mark, totally engrossed in tuning his guitar. All you can see is the top of his head as he bends over, adjusting the pegs and strumming an experimental note. He looks so cool, completely in his element, and you can’t help but admire his passion for music. But before your thoughts drift into those bittersweet memories of him writing songs for you and strumming gentle tunes to help you drift off, you're jolted back to the reality that it was that same love for music that pulled him away from you.

Renjun was busy connecting his keyboard and tapping out a few notes, while Jaemin lounged in the back behind his drum set, chuckling at whatever video had caught his attention on his phone. No one seemed to notice you, and it made it tough to muster up any confidence with all their attention elsewhere. Just as you were feeling a bit invisible, Jeno strolled up beside you, holding his bass and grinning brightly.

“Hey, glad you could make it! Mark never told us you could sing,” he said, nudging your shoulder playfully before pulling you into a friendly hug.

You were more familiar with Jeno since he went to the same high school as you and Mark, and even though he was closer to Mark, you’d hung out enough to consider him a friend too.

“Jeno, hey!” you reply, returning his warm hug. Mark finally glances up at the sound of your voice and his expression shifts, hardening as his eyes land on you.

Renjun quickly approaches with an apologetic smile. “Sorry I didn’t see you come in. I’m so glad you could make it.” he says, exuding friendliness.

Meanwhile, Jaemin glances up from his phone, his demeanor indifferent as he remains seated, not offering much acknowledgment. Your gaze shifts back to Mark, who stands from where he was perched but hesitates, unsure if he should come closer or keep his distance, the tension thickening the air between you.

“We’re gonna get started as soon as Jeno sets up,” Renjun announces with enthusiasm. “I can show you around Jaemin’s house. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been here before.”

You nod. “Yeah, I need to use the bathroom before we start,” you reply, lying a bit to buy yourself some time to gather your thoughts.

Grateful for his friendliness, you let him guide you through Jaemin’s impressively large home. His adorable rambling brings a small smile to your face. When you finally reach the bathroom, he asks if you need help finding your way back and you shake your head. “We’ll be waiting in the garage,” he says before turning to leave.

Closing the door softly behind you, you splash some cool water on your face, trying to cool down from the warmth outside and the feelings brewing within you. While you wish you could suppress your feelings of animosity, seeing Mark again stirs something deeper. You channel that negative energy back into focus; you were here for one reason—to ensure Mark Lee paid for what he’d done.

You came back out refreshed, and to your surprise, the rehearsal went a lot smoother than you had anticipated. Renjun was particularly helpful, guiding you through the melody and key of the song as you practiced with the group. His enthusiasm made it easier for you to focus, and together, you worked through complex sections, laughing at the occasional off-pitch note or missed cue.

As the hours passed, you found yourself relaxing and joking around with Jeno and Renjun; their playful banter made the atmosphere feel lively and fun. Jeno, with his infectious sense of humor, cracked jokes that had everyone in stitches, while Renjun chimed in with witty commentary that kept the mood light. Despite Jaemin’s reserved nature, you found comfort in his quiet presence, appreciating the way he seemed to absorb the energy around him without needing to contribute much verbally.

However, Mark remained distant, effortlessly chatting with everyone while giving you the cold shoulder. He kept conversation with you brief and to a minimum. His laughter echoed through the garage, and while it should have made you feel at ease, it only intensified the tension that simmered beneath the surface. You focused on the music and tried to push aside your thoughts about him.

“Wanna go ahead and wrap up?” Jeno asks the group, eliciting sounds of agreement that weave through the garage as members start packing up.

You stand off to the side, feeling a bit out of place since you didn’t know how to help. Trying to be useful, you awkwardly approach the microphone and its stand, glancing around for a spot to place them.

“Where does this go?” you finally muster up the courage to ask Mark, your voice cutting through the uneasy strain between you two since the audition. The memory of his harsh words after that day rushes back, making your stomach churn as he takes the equipment from you without a word, setting it aside with a silence that feels heavy.

Just as the tension begins to settle, Jeno calls you over, his bright energy pulling you back into the moment. “Wanna grab something to eat after this?” He asks.

You take a moment to admire his long hair that frames his face, the dark eyeliner accentuating his eyes, and the way his fitted black shirt showcases the muscles in his arms. Your thoughts stray as you realize you’ve taken too long to respond, his brow quirking up in a teasing manner that makes you flush. “Yea— Yea, I’m free,” you finally reply.

“Anyone else down?” Jeno shifts his bass over his shoulder, glancing around the group.

“Nah, I’m hanging back to game with Jaemin,” Renjun calls out casually, leaving just the three of you.

“Mark?” Jeno asks, turning his attention to him. You catch a flicker in Mark’s eyes—an unmistakable mix of reluctance and jealousy. It’s clear he doesn't really want to go, but even more than that, he’s uncomfortable with the idea of you and Jeno being left alone together. A wicked smile creeps onto your lips as you silently revel in the unfolding dynamic, enjoying the tension in the air.

“Yea, I’ll probably just get a fry or something,” Mark mumbles.

Jaemin and Renjun head inside while you and Mark climb into Jeno's pickup truck, settling into the front seat and leaving Mark to sit in the back. The ride is filled with laughter as you catch up with Jeno, his jokes echoing through the cabin, but when you glance in the rearview mirror, you notice Mark’s jaw tightening in annoyance.

Upon arriving at the small diner, you head inside and take a seat next to Jeno, leaving Mark to sit alone on the opposite side of the table. As the waiter approaches with menus, you dismiss yours and share Jeno’s, animatedly discussing what to eat. You “accidently” kick Mark under the table, looking up at him with an insincere apology.

As the waiter takes your order, the table engages in light conversation. When you mention the cat you recently adopted, Jeno laughs and shares that he has a cat allergy.

“But didn’t you have a cat in high school?” you remind him, prompting him to share some adorable stories about his old cat.

You pull out your phone just as Jeno and Mark launch into a discussion about guitars, and you quickly text Mark,

Are we just going to keep ignoring each other?

You’re surprised you hadn’t deleted his number yet. He chuckles at something Jeno says, but when his phone lights up, you see him check it. He doesn't reply and faces his phone down, prompting you to roll your eyes.

When your food arrives, you all enjoy it. After eating, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to wash off the ketchup and salt from your fingers. Just as you finish in the single-stall restroom and open the door, you find Mark leaning against the opposite wall. He catches sight of you and, without a word, pushes you back inside, shutting the door behind you and pinning you against it.

“You wanted to talk to me, right? Well, here I am,” he says under his breath, trying to maintain his cool. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks.

“I was using the bathroom,” you reply, rolling your eyes, which only frustrates him further.

“You know what I’m talking about. You’re mad at me, so you’re making it your life mission to get on my nerves.”

“Why would me going out to eat with Jeno bother you?” you counter, tilting your head in faux confusion.

“Because you’re our singer now, and if you and Jeno get mixed up, it might cause unnecessary drama.”

“Right, and not because I’m your ex, and you clearly still think you have some kind of dumb possessive claim over me,” you shoot back.

Mark pushes himself off the door with a huff. "We,” he says, motioning between the two of you, “are not a problem. I don’t care what you do with Jeno. I’m just worried about our band.”

This band could burn for all you cared. You hated the softness that crept into his voice when he talked about his stupid band.

“If you came in here to try to convince me to quit again, you can leave now because I’m not going anywhere. Not everything is about you, Mark. I have my own reasons for joining the band.” You turn to adjust your appearance in the mirror, catching his eyes through the reflection as he steps up behind you, holding your gaze.

“If you think you’re going to win whatever little game you’re playing, you’re wrong,” he says before storming out. After a few moments, you follow him outside. Glancing through the diner's wide glass-pane windows, you see Jeno already waiting in his car as Mark hops in, taking the shotgun seat. The bell chimes as you step out the door, and you jump into the back of Jeno’s pickup truck.

“So, are you gonna quit?” your friend Jungwoo asks.

“I mean eventually. I’m sure they could easily find someone to replace me; I’m not even that good,” you explain, catching your friends up on the Mark drama.

“Waste his time like he wasted yours,” Jennie shrugs.

You were in the campus library working on classwork when you spotted them. They had pulled up some chairs and before you knew it you had put your classwork to the side and started gossiping.

“I mean, yeah, but I still feel a little bad for his members; they’re really cool.” You say.

“Guilty by association,” Jennie rolls her eyes.

“Speaking of band members, are you really gonna sleep with Jeno?” Jungwoo asks.

“I was just talking shit, but he’s been looking really good recently. Like, really good.” You laugh just as your phone rings. Looking down at the caller ID, you see Mark's name flashing.

You’re confused until you glance at the corner of the screen and notice the time—you’re an hour late to practice. You had planned to be a little late today, maybe like fifteen minutes just to irk him, but this was too much.

“Shit, I’m late! He’s going to kill me,” you scramble to gather your things.

Sure, you’re upset with Mark, but it doesn’t feel right to make the others wait hours for you. You answer his second call as you exit the library and head to your car.

“Where are you?” Mark’s icy tone sends a chill down your spine.

“I lost track of time. I’m on the way,” you respond.

“Just hurry up,” he replies, and you can hear his frustration.

You arrive in a flurry, apologizing profusely as you enter the garage. Everyone is already set up and practicing; thankfully, they seem unfazed by your tardiness. Mark looks annoyed but his face is always like that lately. Feeling the tension in your own chest ease a little, you prepare for practice.

You approach Renjun during a break. He flashes a welcoming smile and invites you to sit beside him at the keyboard. “Want to learn something new?” he asks, and you nod eagerly.

He guides your fingers over the keys, patiently explaining the simple notes of Mary Had a Little Lamb. You laugh with him as you fumble through the melody but his encouragement keeps you motivated.

While you’re engrossed in the lesson, Jeno returns from the bathroom, a playful grin on his face. “What’s going on over here? Teaching her the basics, Renjun?” He joins in, teasing you about your lack of musical skills on the keyboard.

Later, as practice wraps up, Jaemin eagerly insists that you check out the photos he took of his cats on his phone, showcasing their hilarious antics. You can't help but smile; getting to know him has revealed just how interesting and quirky he truly is.

Practice is over and you gather your stuff and head to your car. You’re about to pull off when you hear a tap on the glass. You roll down the window to see Mark standing there, and you can’t help but feel annoyed; he only seems to speak to you when no one else was around. It was no secret that you two used to date.

“I do not need a lecture, Mark. I just want to go home.”

“If you’re going to be late, just call,” he replies, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“What did I just say?” You argue, not wanting to hear the rest.

“I was nervous when you didn’t pick up. I thought something had happened.” A concerned look crossing his face.

“Yes, sir. Now can I go?” You refused to apologize again.

Without warning, Mark leans in, gently squeezing your face. “Be on time,” he warns, his gaze daring you to talk back.

You hated that he knew your weaknesses, and as you nodded your head obediently, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The drive home felt longer than usual as you willed your heart to calm down, replaying the way he had looked at you with authority. Each beat echoed in your chest, and despite your frustration with him, you couldn’t shake the flicker of warmth that accompanied your thoughts of Mark.

From that day forward, you were never late to another practice, but you found other sneaky ways to annoy Mark. Your main tactic became shamelessly flirting with Jeno, who, unbeknownst to him, was the perfect partner in crime for teasing Mark. Whether it was sharing inside jokes or playfully bumping shoulders, every moment spent with Jeno set Mark's expression to irritation. You reveled in the way Mark's brow would furrow and his jaw would tense, all while you enjoyed the easy camaraderie with Jeno, blissfully unaware of the storm you were brewing. While you did continue to press his buttons there were times when you would find yourself laughing together and enjoying easy conversation. But more times than not, you were bumping heads.

You had invited Jeno over to watch a movie, and now, curled up under the covers, your limbs tangled together felt both thrilling and comforting.

As your time together increased, so did the closeness between you two; nights spent cuddling became an unspoken tradition, sharing warmth and soft laughter. Though you hadn’t crossed the line into sex, you had participated in some heavy make out sessions that had ignited an undeniable chemistry between you. Yet, a part of you recognized the boundary he maintained, an unspoken agreement likely influenced by Mark's presence in both your lives.

As Jeno's hands began to wander, the tension in the room shifted dramatically; his cold fingers sent shivers racing up your spine as they slipped beneath your shirt, making you acutely aware of every sensation. When he leaned down to kiss you, you melted into the moment, returning his kiss with fervor as you moved to straddle his waist. Looking down at him from your elevated position, you couldn't help but smile at the warmth in his eyes. But your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling your attention away. You reached for it, settling back against Jenos lap, making him groan, a sound that only added to the heat of the moment.

“What is it?” he asks, his hands caressing your thighs as he waits for you to return to him.

Mark had texted you: Hey, is my old electric guitar still in your closet?

“It’s nothing,” you say, quickly closing your phone.

Leaning back down, you rejoin your lips, grinding against him and drawing out quiet moans. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as you both chase the little pleasure you’ve allowed yourselves. The bed creaks as he shifts you under him, reconnecting your mouths in a slow, needy kiss. Your hands grip his shoulders, softly calling his name as your legs wind around his waist, feeling the delicious friction from the fabric of your pajama pants as he grinds into you. He kisses you deeper, biting your lips with a groan while your hands wander, slipping under his shirt and igniting a fire within you both.

He peppers your lips with a few longing kisses before planting one last, reluctant kiss before pulling away. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he calls out as he gets up.

While you wait for him to return, you pick up your phone and start to text Mark, planning to let him know you'll bring his guitar to the next practice. But as you tap the screen, you realize you’ve accidentally started a FaceTime call with him.

On the screen, you see Mark saying something, but you can’t hear his voice due to your volume being down. He looks visibly upset, and you have a sneaking suspicion that he heard everything and knows you were making out with Jeno. Whatever he’s saying isn’t very nice, so you quickly end the call before Jeno come back.

Shortly after, Jeno returns, and you both settle back into the movie night as if nothing had happened.

If things seemed to be getting better with Mark, after that incident, everything was back to square one. It truly was an honest mistake, and you don’t regret it one bit, even if the backstage atmosphere is thick with tension. Today, Mark was giving everyone the cold shoulder while you prepared for your first gig together. You were already nervous, and his attitude definitely wasn’t helping!

Jeno tries to lift the group's spirits with a brief but heartfelt speech, encouraging everyone to have fun and enjoy the moment before you all head on stage. You hum the melody and sing the lyrics of a few songs under your breath, trying to engrain them in your memory. But when you finally step onto the stage and are met with a sea of eager faces in the crowd, a wave of anxiety crashes over you, and you nearly freeze in place. The bright stage lights blind you momentarily, and despite the pulsating energy around you, all you can focus on is the crushing weight of silence as you realize you missed your cue. As the lead singer, you were supposed to introduce the band and set the tone for the night, but instead, you stand there awkwardly, heart racing, grappling with sudden performance jitters.

What had you gotten yourself into?

Just as panic threatened to consume you, Mark stepped in smoothly, grabbing the mic with a confident smile. "We are Limitless, and we hope you enjoy our music tonight!" His voice rang out, energizing the crowd and breaking the tension that had settled over you.

Jaemin laid down a steady beat on his drums, and the music surged to life, pushing you into the rhythm. You made it through the first half of your set without any major hiccups, and with each song, you felt your confidence swell. By the second half, you were fully engaging with the crowd and getting them hyped up with your energy.

As you delivered the closing lines at the end of the show, a wave of exhilaration washed over you. The cheers from the audience ignited a sense of pride.

“That was so much fun!” you exclaim as everyone heads backstage to pack up.

Once you’ve finished, you all exit through the back door, where a van is waiting for you. A small group of girls is gathered nearby, chatting excitedly.

“Omg, you guys were amazing tonight!” they call out as you start loading your equipment into the back of the van.

You assume they’re fans, and since you’re still new, most of them direct their attention toward the other members. Some of the band members pause to chat briefly with the girls, while others sign autographs. You finish loading the van and hop in. After a few moments, Renjun gets into the driver seat and starts the engine. Jaemin, Jeno, and Mark are still outside chatting with fans.

You and Renjun discuss some aspects of tonight’s performance that could be improved when the back door swings open and Jeno and Jaemin slide in.

“Where’s Mark?” you ask, eager to leave.

“He’s not coming, he said to go ahead,” Jeno replies, buckling his seatbelt.

You glance out the window and spot Mark engaged in a deep conversation with one of the girls. She’s a bit too touchy, playfully resting her hand on his bicep as she laughs and jokingly shoves him.

“Is he going home with her?” you ask, disbelief creeping into your voice.

“Who knows. I think she invited him out for drinks.” Jaemin replies, with a yawn.

“Is someone feeling jealous?” Jeno teases, a smirk on his face.

You shoot him a glare as you buckle yourself into your seat, directing your attention back to the window in silence as Renjun pulls away. The car ride back to Jaemin’s house passes in silence, with you not speaking to anyone the entire way.

The next day during practice, Mark strolls in, greeting you with an unusually bright smile. You return the gesture but your heart sinks when your gaze falls to the hickey marring his neck.

Mark’s grin only widens, seemingly oblivious—or perhaps all too aware—of the effect it has on you.

That day, your hands are practically raw from gripping the microphone tightly, and your voice comes out more aggressive than usual as you sing. Each note feels sharper, almost like you’re pouring all your frustration and jealousy into the music.

It’s evident that Mark is in high spirits today, more cheerful than you’ve ever seen him since you joined the group. You can tell he knows you’re jealous, and he’s reveling in it, flaunting that bruise on his neck, knowing it would get under your skin.

Payback was a bitch.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Renjun insists over the phone, his excitement evident even through the speaker. He’s trying his best to convince you to spend the night at Jaemin's house with the rest of the crew. Everyone has noticed the growing tension between you and Mark, and you know this is Renjun’s not-so-subtle attempt to get you two to sort things out.

“I really can’t, Junnie. I have classwork I need to finish,” you reply, a hint of guilt creeping into your voice. but t’s true. You’re drowning in assignments, and the time you’ve been spending with the boys was the main cause to blame.

“I promise, whatever you have, we’ll help you finish it!” he insists.

“Don’t say ‘we’ if it’s just going to be you helping me while Jaemin and Jeno are being obnoxious.”

“Mark would help if you asked,” Renjun offers, his tone teasing.

“Mark hates me,” you rebut, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

“No he doesn't idiot. You two are a match made in heaven,” Renjun says, speaking with an air of knowing, as if he’s privy to some cosmic truth about the two of you that you’re both missing. “You need to unwind and relax; we all do.”

After a moment of internal debate, you relent. “Fine. I’ll come over,” you say, reluctantly agreeing. You gather your things, making sure to pack your laptop and all the papers you need to complete.

When you arrive at Jaemin’s house, the atmosphere is chill and relaxed. Everyone is sprawled out in the living room, laughing and joking. You set yourself up at the bar counter, trying to create a little space for yourself amidst the chaos.

Renjun approaches you, his eyes widening as he looks over the stacks of papers you’ve brought. “Holy shit, this is a lot,” he exclaims, his playful demeanor turning serious as he sees just how buried you are in work.

“Yeah, it’s overwhelming,” you admit, feeling a little self-conscious. “This is going to take all night”

As the rest gather around, they look down at the jumbled mess of papers you've laid out. It feels a little intimidating under their scrutiny, but you remind yourself you’re all in this together—sort of.

“You’re never behind on your work. Is it because of the band?” Mark asks.

“I’m trying to balance it. I just got a little behind,” you reply, trying your best to organize your thoughts and papers into manageable piles, hoping to start focusing.

“If you need help, you can always ask. If the band is too demanding, you don’t have to stay,” he adds, and you can feel your temperature rising.

You whip around to face him, your frustration boiling over. “It’s not too much, and I’m not going anywhere! Will you stop trying to get rid of me?” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Mark raises an eyebrow, rolling his eyes. “That’s not what I’m trying to say,” he responds, his voice a mixture of exasperation and disbelief.

Jeno and Jaemin, sensing an argument brewing, exchange quick glances before making a hasty retreat, dodging the potential fallout of the impending conflict.

“Hey! That’s not what we’re here for, guys! I will separate you two!” Renjun threatens, trying to interject some humor into the escalating situation.

“I’d be down to watch a good fight,” Jaemin calls from the kitchen, trying to keep things light as he chucks snacks into his mouth. Jeno hits him but fails to hide his own snicker.

Mark raises his hands in defeat, and for a moment, you think he’s going to walk away, leaving you in your sea of homework. But to your surprise, he sits down next to you, grabbing a textbook from the pile with a determined look in his eyes. There’s something reassuring about his presence.

For the next three hours, Mark and Renjun dive into your assignments, helping you to tackle the mountain of homework that had been weighing heavily on your shoulders. The air is filled with a mix of focused silence and bursts of laughter as the boys throw in playful comments and jokes between serious explanations. You can practically feel the burden lifting as they tackle subject after subject alongside you.

Mark’s arm rests casually around the back of your chair, a gesture that feels both familiar and intimate. You can’t help but feel a warmth spreading through you as he guides you through a complicated math equation, explaining each step with patience. You admire his intelligence—after all, he had dropped out to dedicate himself fully to the band, but he was still one of the smartest people you knew.

“Okay, so if we look at it this way…” he says, pointing to a specific part of the equation, his gaze focused on the page. You catch yourself stealing glances at him. When you shift a little closer, trying to get a better look at the page, you notice how the scent of his cologne envelops you.

“Right here, see?” Mark points to the page. “You isolate the variable first, then you can solve for x.”

Your heart races slightly from being so near to him. “Got it,” you reply, trying to focus on the math and not the fluttering feelings in your stomach.

“Try to solve this next one on your own,” he says and he watches you silently as you work through the problem. When you solve it correctly, you look up at him with a smile. Your faces are a lot closer than you thought and you can feel yourself being drawn into him. The way he looks at you ,then down at your lips has wild thoughts racing through your mind.

The moment is interrupted by Renjun returning—snacks in hand and an excited grin plastered on his face. “Look what I found!” he exclaims, breaking the tension.

You and Mark part as Renjun’s presence shifts the atmosphere in the room, and the unspoken connection between the two of you dissipates like a puff of smoke. Mark clears his throat awkwardly, shooting you a shy smile as you hastily close the textbook and begin to clean up your scattered papers, using the busywork to ground yourself in the moment.

“Thanks, guys, you helped a lot,” you say, avoiding Mark’s gaze as you pack your things. “I think I can finish the rest later on my own.”

“Finally! Now can we start the party ?” Jaemin calls excitedly from his spot on the couch, a wide grin plastered across his face, clearly eager to kick off the night’s festivities.

You were sitting in Jaemin's backyard, swimsuits on and alcohol in hand, the air thick with summer warmth and laughter. The music pulsed through the space, blending with the shouts of your friends as they playfully stumbled around in a tipsy haze. Jeno had just pushed Jaemin into the pool, the splash echoing loudly, and the moment Jaemin climbed out, he grabbed a water gun, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he aimed it at everyone. You and Renjun laugh, sprinting away as Jaemin charged after you, water gun blasting away. You were laughing so hard that tears pricked your eyes as you glanced back just in time to see Jeno slip in the grass while trying to escape Jaemin’s wrath. The whole scene was pure chaos, and you were loving every second of it.

“Where’d Mark go?” you wondered aloud, glancing around for his familiar figure. But as the chaos continued, you didn't have much time to dwell on him.

“Look out!” Renjun suddenly shouted, pulling you back just in time to avoid a full blast of water aimed your way byJaemin. You both took off, laughter spilling from your lips as you ran away.

Jaemin's eyes narrowed playfully as he called out, “I think I saw you laughing earlier! What was so funny?” He was slowly stalking towards you, a toothy grin stretching as he prepared to pounce.

“No, Jaemin, stop! I don’t want to get my hair wet!” You yelled, both terrified and amused, knowing full well the inevitable outcome of his playful threats.

You and Renjun take off running again. In your frantic escape, you accidentally lose him as you ran into the house, your feet carrying you instinctively away from the chaos outside. Before you knew it, you had found refuge in the garage. String lights twinkled above, casting a soft glow that illuminated every corner of the space. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic party outside, and for a moment, you paused to catch your breath. That’s when you heard it—the soft strumming of a guitar.

Mark was sitting in the corner of the garage on a stool, his guitar resting comfortably in his hands. He wore nothing but his swim trunks, revealing sun-kissed skin that glistened under the lights. He looked relaxed, almost completely lost in the moment as his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, creating a melodic sound that filled the otherwise quiet space with a calming warmth.

Caught off guard, you stood still for a moment, mesmerized by him. The sight of his focused expression, the way he seemed to pour his soul into the music, made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. The soft melody comforts you and you realize it was the song he had written for you when you were together.

You are my rockstar

Without you, I'll always feel alone

When I'm lost, you guide me home, yeah

His voice, slurred but passionate, carried throughout the garage and it pulled you closer. You're standing in front of him by the time he notices your presence, his fingers fumbling over the strings of his guitar as his voice abruptly cuts off.

“I’m sorry, I was—” you begin, uncertain of what to say given the haze of drunkenness clouding your thoughts and the fear of what might come out next.

“Wanna learn how to play?” he asks, and the way his eyes glimmer in the dim light makes them resemble little boba pearls.

Before you can reply, he grabs your hand and pulls you to sit in his lap, the warmth of his chest enveloping you as he settles the guitar across your lap. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck, and with his guidance, you position your fingers over the strings, feeling the cool texture of the guitar under your hands. His hands resting possessively on your hips while he hooks his chin over your shoulder to watch you

“Now strum,” he instructs, his voice coming out in a breathy whisper.

Your heart races as the weight of his warmth settles against you, his body a comforting presence that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of his sheepish smile.

“Uh, okay,” you stutter out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Just like that,” Mark says softly, his breath brushing your ear, sending another shiver through you. “Now strum gently.”

You take a deep breath, trying to focus despite the way your heart beats like a drum against your ribcage. As you give the strings a gentle strum, a rich sound fills the small garage. The note rings clear, and you can’t help but smile.

“Good girl. You’ve got it,” he encourages, shifting his weight slightly to make more room for you.

However, as he moves, the guitar slips a little from your grip, and you adjust your seating to hold it steady against your thighs. You feel his hands gripping your waist, and his breath comes out harsh against your neck.

“Fuck, baby. Be still for me,” the way he says it framed by a desperate plea has you sucking in a harsh breath. You can already feel a pool of slick forming in your panties from the pet names you haven’t heard in so long.

You stand up, and the look Mark gives you is devastating, filled with longing and confusion. Setting his guitar down on its stand, you approach him again, straddling his waist and settling onto his lap. Neither of you moves; instead, you lock eyes, the connection palpable as his hands trace your sides, the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin warms you against the cool chill in the garage. When his hands travel down to grip your ass, pulling you closer to grind against him, it feels like the final straw.

You surge forward, kissing him with an intensity he isn't afraid to match; both of you are drunk and the kiss is deliciously sloppy. In this moment, nothing else matters except the way he touches you. You slip your tongue into his mouth, and it tangles with his in a fierce battle of passion. The garage is filled with the sounds of wet kisses, moans, and desperate pleas—the usual music of the night replaced by the melody that you and Mark create as you grip and caress each other.

Your hands couldn't keep still, first tangling in his hair, then exploring the contours of his shoulder blades, and finally tracing down the front of his body. You needed to memorize every detail before he was taken from you again. A moan escapes your lips, feeling Mark’s hands fondle your breasts, igniting a wave of desire.

Memories flood back of when he walked in covered in hickeys, a sudden surge of possessiveness coursing through you. With determination, you trail kisses down to his neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin, marking him as yours in a way that speaks louder than words. The urgency and heat of the moment envelop you both, and you lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies.

Mark groans in pleasure, fingers pulling at the strings of your bikini top, ready to take things further when the garage door creaks open and Renjun stumbles in, his eyes slightly glazed.

“We were looking for you guys,” he announces, and you're grateful for his drunken state because he doesn't mention the compromising position you two are in. “The pizza is here, come inside,” Renjun calls casually before heading back in.

The air crackles with unfulfilled hunger as you exchange a look, half-amused and half-frustrated, knowing you’ll have to put a pause on the fire that had ignited between you.

Pizza boxes and cans of soda are strewn across Jaemin's dining room table. You and Mark sit side by side and Renjun sends you a questioning look, curiosity flickering in his eyes. You all munch on pizza while some movie buzzes in the background, mostly forgotten amidst the laughter and playful banter. You try hard to focus on the film, desperately pushing thoughts of Mark away, but it’s proving to be a challenge.

“Not gonna lie, guys, I’m about to knock out,” Jeno announces after his third slice of pizza, stretching exaggeratedly in his seat.

“I call the couch!” Renjun declares, raising his hand.

“Where can I sleep?” you ask, glancing around the room.

“I have a guest room you can crash in,” Jaemin replies, his mouth still full of pizza, making it slightly harder to understand him.

“I can crash with Jaemin. I think the guest bed is pretty big,” Jeno adds, a teasing smirk creeping across his face. You raise an eyebrow, unsure of what he’s hinting at.

“Yeah, the couch is small—no room for anyone else,” Renjun adds in helpfully.

“But the couch has enough room for—” Jaemin winces mid-sentence, and you can only imagine who kicked him under the table. “No room! The couch has no room!”

“I don’t mind sharing the bed,” you say, understanding the unsaid implications hovering in the air.

Mark's chuckle sends a pleasant tingle down your spine, and the way he glances at you, intrigue in his eyes, makes your heart race a little faster. The air is thick with unspoken words, and you can almost feel the teasing energy crackling between your friends as they watch the scene unfold.

“I mean, if it’s okay with you,” he says.

Trying to keep your composure despite the butterflies dancing in your stomach, you reply, “Sure, I don’t mind!” You reply a little too enthusiastically.

The others snicker, and you shoot them a mock glare as you take a sip from your soda to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. Jaemin’s smirk grows wider, and Renjun’s eyes twinkle with mischief as they look between you and Mark, clearly enjoying the dynamic unfolding before them.

You place a pillow between you and Mark as you finally settle into bed, trying to create a comfortable distance. He sends you a bemused look, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’ve shared a bed before, what’s with the pillow? Afraid I’ll bite?” he jokes, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Nah, I’m afraid I might,” you reply, shooting him a devilish smile that makes him laugh, the sound warm and inviting.

As laughter fades, a comfortable silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing and the gentle rustle of sheets. You lie back, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. The pillow feels like a weak defense as you become acutely aware of the brush of his legs against yours, a gentle reminder of his presence. You can feel his gaze, unwavering and intense, smoldering just off to the side. Reluctantly, you glance over, and your eyes lock with his; there’s a vulnerability there that catches you off guard.

“I miss you,” he says, causing a weight to settle in your chest. The weight of his words hanging in the air, thick with nostalgia and longing.

It sends shivers down your spine, pricking at the old wounds you thought had healed. You feel your heart constrict as your fists clench involuntarily. You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, forcing your voice to remain cool. “You broke up with me, remember?” you reply, your tone layered with a mix of defensiveness and hurt as you shift slightly, seeking to create a physical distance that reflects your inner turmoil.

Mark’s expression shifts, a shadow passing over his face. “I know,” he replies, the weight of the past hanging between you like an invisible thread. “But I thought… I don’t know, maybe we could talk about it? About us?”

“What’s there to talk about?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. “It was complicated then, and it’s complicated now.”

“I get that,” he says softly, his tone earnest. “But I don’t want to just pretend like it never happened or that we don’t have this connection. I… I still love you.”

You feel an ache at the back of your throat, past feelings of anger and betrayal surging anew. “Mark,” you start, searching for the right words, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

“I just want a chance to at least figure things out. To see if we can be in each other’s lives again without it being so… awkward.” he replies, his gaze steady.

“I just don’t want to get hurt again,” you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His expression softens, and he nods slowly. “I understand. I don’t want that either. But I think we owe it to ourselves to at least try, right?”

The air feels thick with possibility, and as you lock eyes with him, you wonder if this is the moment where everything could change, or where it could all unravel once more.

You feel a lump forming in your throat, and for a moment, silence reigns as you grapple with the memories of what once was.

“Mark, you’re drunk. Lets just go to sleep,” you say, clearing your throat, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You turn over onto your side, putting your back to him.

The air hangs heavy with unspoken words as you stare at the wall, taunted with memories you wish you could forget. You can hear Mark’s soft sigh behind you, but you refuse to turn back. You don’t want to see the look in his eyes.

The room falls into silence, and for a moment, you let yourself drown in your thoughts. You had built walls around yourself to keep the pain out, but tonight they feel so thin, as if they are about to crumble.

As sleep begins to creep in, the stinging in your eyes becomes harder to ignore. Silent tears slip down your cheeks, soaking into the pillow beneath you. You wish you could silence your heart and wish you could push away the longing for what was lost.

Breakfast the next morning is wrapped in a thick layer of awkwardness. The rest of the group exchanges confused glances, just yesterday everything seemed fine. You’re grateful they don’t address the tension directly; there’s a kindness in letting things remain unspoken, an understanding to let things be.

After breakfast, Jeno drives you to your afternoon classes, his comforting presence a small balm on your heart. He gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. “Cheer up, okay? Have a good day,” he says, his voice warm and sincere. You nod, appreciating his attempt to raise your spirits, but the defeated look seems to cling stubbornly to your features, no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

“Okay girl, what’s wrong?” Jennie asks, a worried bite to her tone as she eyes you across the table at your favorite smoothie joint later that day. You know she can see through your attempts to mask the turmoil swirling inside. “Is it Mark? I’ll kick his ass if it’s Mark.”

You sigh, trying to blink away the tears that threaten to fall.

“Oh, he’s dead,” Jennie mutters, standing from her seat.

“Wait! Let’s hear what happened first before you go busting kneecaps,” Jungwoo interjects, laughing softly to lighten the mood.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts and recount the events of last night, Mark's confession echoing in your mind as you share the details with your friends. They sit in silence, taking it all in just as you had.

When the silence finally breaks, it’s Jennie who speaks first. “I hate him, but I don’t doubt for a moment that he ever stopped loving you,” she says reluctantly, crossing her arms.

“He loves me, but he went and hooked up with some random girl,” you roll your eyes, exasperated. The memory of it stinging.

“Don’t make me defend this man, but you did the same thing,” Jennie counters, raising an eyebrow.

“Whose side are you on?” You shoot back, incredulous. "Besides he broke up with me!"

“Girl, I know you love that man. Let’s cut to the chase,” she insists, her tone direct.

You fall silent at that, unable to deny the truth.

“What she means to say is no matter how far your feet run, your heart will always be with him,” Jungwoo adds, his expression passionate.

You and Jennie both look at Jungwoo, surprised by his words. “OMG, Woo, that was deep,” you say, taken aback.

“Yeah, what the hell? Who are you?” Jennie teases, a playful grin creeping onto her face.

“Very funny. Now let’s stick to the topic at hand,” Jungwoo says, his glare returning to you both. “Do you love him?”

You hesitate, knowing you’re not ready to admit the truth out loud. But the answer bubbles up as if it’s been waiting for this moment. “Yes,” you finally confess, the word escaping your lips before you can stop it.

“Then go tell him before you lose him for the second time,” Jungwoo urges, his voice firm and encouraging.

It's midnight when you finally muster the courage to head to his house. You knock softly on the wooden door, heart racing as you wait for a response. The warm summer breeze flows gently behind you, a soft push from the universe that assures you you’re making the right choice.

After a moment, he opens the door, surprise flickering across his face at the sight of you. “Can we talk?” you ask, voice steady despite the storm of emotions within.

“Yeah, I— yeah," he stumbles over his words, taken aback, but he steps aside to let you in.

You settle onto his couch, fingers fidgeting nervously in your lap, unsure of how to lay your heart bare. Taking a deep breath, you finally find your voice. “Why did you break up with me? Was the band really more important?”

He draws in a breath, searching for the right words. “I know I messed up, and I’m sorry for that,” he says, his voice soft. “It was never my intention to hurt you. I was just…”

You wait patiently, urging him to continue. “It’s not because I put the band before you. It because I didn't want to put you last,” he finally explains, his gaze unwavering. “ I didn’t want to neglect you in favor of the band. I thought you would be better off without me than to be ignored.”

Mark searches your face for understanding, and all you can do is absorb his words. “I love music and I love you, but I was naive to think I could use music to fill the hole in my heart that you left when we broke up,” he finishes.

Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. “I want us to try again, Mark, but you made me feel like I didn’t matter,” you admit, your voice trembling as the hurt floods back.

Without hesitation, he reaches for your hands, pulling you closer, his warm touch comforting. “You mattered to me then and you matter to me now,” he insists, his expression heartfelt. “I never stopped loving you, I just got lost along the way.”

“Mark,” you whisper, feeling the tightness in your chest begin to ease, “I love you and f you hurt me again, I will break your stupid guitar over your head,” you joke lightly, laughter escaping through a sniffle, a gentle tease after the heaviness of the moment.

A laugh escapes him, filling the room with warmth as he squeezes your hands. “Fair enough. I promise I’ll do everything I can to make this right.”

It feels like a heavy burden has been lifted from your shoulders, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, your heart feels light. When you look at him, the truth in his words shines clearly in his eyes. As he leans in hesitantly, testing the waters, a spark ignites your courage, and you meet him halfway, pressing your lips against his softly.

The connection floods back to you in waves—electric, familiar, and exhilarating—reminding you of everything you had missed while he was gone. You realize, in that instant, how much hurt your heart had endured in silence.

The way you kiss each other speaks volumes; there’s a desperation in your connection, a silent vow to never part again—even for a breath of air. Mark is your lifeline. His hands cup your face, caressing you lovingly as he deepens the kiss. The heat from the other night returns, but this time it’s clearer, more intense. There’s no alcohol fueling this moment, just raw passion entwined with affection.

As he finally pulls away, you find yourself lost in the soft features of his face and the way his kiss-swollen lips curve into a half-smile, igniting warmth in your chest. You smile back, and an unspoken understanding passes between you as you stand, gently leading him toward his bedroom. He walks you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed, a flurry of kisses trailing along your neck and shoulder, igniting every nerve in your body. You fall back into the plush covers, sinking into the softness as you scoot back, urging him to join you. He crawls over you, eyes filled with longing and tenderness as he rejoins your lips.

"I'll never forgive myself for hurting you," he mumbles breathlessly against your lips, and for a moment, you feel the weight of his regret settle heavily between you.

You hold his face in your hands, searching his eyes as you reply, “You have plenty of time to make it up to me.” There’s a playful glint in your eyes, an understanding that this is an opportunity for healing.

With a deep breath, he begins to strip you of your clothes. As he kisses down, you realize each gentle kiss is a whispered apology, each caress a promise. He parts from you just long enough to discard his own clothes, the anticipation building in the space between you before he settles between your legs, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. As he flattens his tongue against your core, the heat of his mouth seeps deep into your bones, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. Your eyes threaten to roll back in sheer ecstasy, but the familiar, smoldering look in his eyes captivates you, sending you a message you read all too well.

Eyes on me

You can’t look away as he licks a bold stripe through your folds, his lips capturing your clit and sucking it into his mouth, flicking it teasingly with his tongue. Each sensation is a delicious blend. It was messy and dirty but he knew that's exactly how you liked it. Overwhelmed, you throw your head back. You arch your back in pure pleasure, but he pulls away instantly.

Taking your hand in his, he interlocks your fingers as the other wraps around your thigh, pulling you closer, his voice a soothing whisper. "Baby."

You know exactly what he wants, and when you meet his gaze again, he rewards you. He dives back into you with fervor, reminding you just how deeply he’s missed your taste. He plunges his tongue deep and thoroughly, before finally pulling away, his face glistening with your arousal. As he licks his lips hungrily and leans down to kiss you, you're eager to taste yourself on his mouth.

You can feel his hips pathetically rutting against you, the rhythm desperate yet filled with a yearning that matches your own. His tip, sticky with precum, glides between your folds as he presses his body into yours from above, a teasing reminder of just how close he is. You need more; you want all of him.

With a daring touch, you reach between your bodies to guide him to your entrance. “Let me have you, don’t make me wait any longer,” you whisper, your words laced with an ever deeper meaning.

He captures your lips in a heated kiss, before he slowly begins to press into you. The sensation is overwhelming; it’s a stretch, and you realize you haven’t been with anyone in a while. Mark's size only heightens the intensity of the moment, making you acutely aware of every inch as he fills you completely.

He pauses, giving you time to adjust, the tension between you thickening as he watches your reactions. “Are you okay?” he asks, breath slightly ragged as he searches your face for any sign of discomfort.

You nod and bite your lip, urging him silently to move. As he starts to thrust, the pace is slow, but each movement stirs a fire deep within you. Your body responds instinctively, arching toward him, craving the intimacy. More, you think, needing him to delve even deeper to reach the parts of you that have ached for his touch.

“More,” you whine.

In response to your plea, his hips begin to quicken their pace, urgency surging through him as his hips snap against yours. The room is filled with the mingled sounds of your breaths, the slickness of your bodies moving together. He thrusts into you with precision, driving deep and filling you completely, leaving you breathless. You claw the sheets, gripping them tightly as he fucks you into the mattress.

"Like this, baby? Tell me what you need…fuck, just tell me and it's yours," he groans, his brows furrowing in desire and determination.

Your voice fails you, caught in the whirlwind of sensations that flood your body with each thrust. You want to tell him how good he makes you feel, how much you love him, how much you've missed this—missed him—but all that escapes your lips is an unintelligible mix of moans and gasps as he grips your hips, anchoring you down with a possessive hold as he pleasures you.

In response, he leans down, his breath hot against your ear, and whispers, “Let me hear you, love. I want to know how good it feels. Let go for me.”

“Just like that,” you manage to breathe out, eyes rolling back in pure pleasure, and it drives him to thrust even harder, eager to send you both over the edge.

And a wave of pleasure crashes over you, pulling you into its depths, you can only grip onto Mark so you don't drown. You can feel his hips stutter and you shiver as his warmth fills you up deliciously.

You finally part, both panting and spent yet glowing with satisfaction. When he rolls over, you find yourself instantly pulled back into his embrace, his strong arms encircling you like a blanket of safety and warmth.

Nestled into the safe embrace of Mark’s chest, you breathe in deeply, allowing the familiar scent—warm, comforting, and distinctly him—to envelop you. he begins to hum a soft tune. It’s a song you know well, one that was often played during quiet evenings spent together. The notes drift effortlessly through the air, and as he hums, you can almost hear the lyrics echoing in your mind. As he reaches the end of the song, sleep finally claims you. The soft whispers of the song echo like a sweet serenade.

When nothing adds up, I'll be your number

You're a 106 and I'm 94, yeah

[sturniqlo]

hii can u do smth about dad!matt obsessing over baby clothes in the store like u found out u were pregnant and he’s at the store the next day 😭 or js at any point in ur pregnancy and he sees baby aisle full of clothes and toys he cant contain himself

Tiny Shopping- M.S

summary: five times when matt was overly excited to shop for his baby.

cw: slight cursing, FLUFF

an: thank you anon for the idea! | lowercase intended

masterlist | mia masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

ONE

"babe?" matt enters his home he shares with his girlfriend. "in the kitchen." she speaks loud enough so he can hear her. "look what i got at the store." matt enters the kitchen excitedly, holding something behind his back. yesterday y/n had gave him the best news ever, they were expecting a baby.

"what'd you get?" she puts the down half eaten bagel. "well, me, nick and chris went to the store, and i saw this so i bought it." matt places the plastic bag on the counter in front of her bagel. "open it, go ahead." he pushes the bag closer to her. "okay." she says, grabbing the bag and pulls out a eeyore plushie.

"matt! it's so cute, oh my gosh." she holds it up. "i know it might the a bit early since we just found out. but, i just had to." he rounds the island and hugs her from behind. "it's never to early, babe." she turns her head and kisses him. "i love it, we can put it inside of the crib once we get one."

TWO

"how's this shirt- matt?" y/n had picked up a shirt for an even they had to go to in a couple of weeks, however when she turned around matt was nowhere to be found. "matt?" she walks around the women's section. as she steps out to the main aisle, she sees matt's curls across the women's section in the baby clothing.

"babe, i was looking for you." she smiles when she sees matt's arm is full of baby clothes. "sorry, i just saw this tiny dress and got carried away." he nods down to the pile in his arm. "a dress? we don't know what the baby is yet." she says. "i know, i know. but, i have a feeling it's a girl, plus, look at it. so so tiny." he holds it up. "oh, we definitely need to buy it." y/n nods.

"as much as i want to buy all of these. we need to bring it down a bit. we have eight more months to buy them more clothes." they had gotten a bit carried away and ended up almost filling a cart up with baby clothes. "you're right." matt bites the inside of his cheek deciding what items to put back.

THREE

"oh matt! look at this one!" nick coos holding up a fluffy bear onesie. "put it in the cart." matt rolls it over to nick. "matt," chris comes up next to matt holding up some bibs. "look at these, they all have 'my first holidays'." matt grabs the bibs and flips through them. "y/n bought these the other day but in onesie form. let's get the matching bibs." he drops them into the cart.

"we're back!" chris announces. "hey guys, what'd you guys end up getti-" y/n stops herself mid sentence when she sees each of them holding two bags from carters. "wait- before you say anything, just look at what we bought." matt says.

FOUR

both matt and y/n were laying on the couch watching harry potter, mostly matt because y/n was on her laptop scrolling through baby websites adding items into her online shopping cart. "this is cute." she says to herself, pressing the add to cart button, "can i see?" matt lifts his head up from her thighs. "it's a pair of shoes, what do you think?" she flips the screen so he can see.

"adorable. did you add them?" she nods. "you read my mind." he leans up and pecks her lips. matt goes back to watching the movie and y/n keeps on scrolling. "oh my gosh, baby look at this one." she gasps, and turns the laptop to him.

"oh, i bought that one yesterday."

FIVE

"alright, do you like this one?" matt holds up a sweater and shows the baby on his hip. the small girl only sticks her tongue out of habit. "you're right, looks like it'd be too hot." he puts it back on the rack. "let's look over here. hey, look, how about this hat." he grabs it off of the shelf and puts it on her tiny head. "awe, look at you." he coos.

"let's go look for your mommy." he heads to the cleaning supply aisle where he knows she'd be at. "baby, look at mia. we need to buy it." y/n grabs a new sponge and turns her head at matt's voice. "oh, look at my baby. you look so cute, mia." she gasps and walks over to the smiling baby on matt's hip. mia giggles at her moms coos. "i'm guessing you like it?"

[sleepykye]

Handsome idol..

Kinich x reader

Part 1

Thank you for 300 followers ! I truly am grateful, knowing that it took me blood, sweat, and tears to get me this far. Although I do not post much, I still am truly grateful! ❤️

The light from the window shone onto your body as you lay in bed, not wanting to get up from bed as your alarm kept on ringing. With a groan, your hand turned the ringing sound off, reluctantly sitting up as you rubbed your eyes. Your hair was all messy, some locks falling over your face. The dorm provided by the school was cold, and the air conditioner was turned on 24/7.. it felt like you were in a freezer. You slowly got up and prepared yourself for the long day. Heck, you even regretted joining this prestigious academy. As you got dressed and left the dorm room, you overheard some students talking about an idol that was joining the school..?

"Have you heard.. we're gonna have an idol transferring here today!!"

"Oh my gosh, yeah! I heard he's reaaaaally hot, too...!!"

You rolled your eyes at their overexcited gossips, sighing as you got to class and sat down, fishing out your phone as you scrolled through Instagram reels. Most of them contained couples, holding hands, kissing, and even some posting about themselves going on expensive dates with their boyfriends or girlfriends. It got to the point where your entire for you page was filled with them, as if even the online world is mocking you for your lonely butt. You closed your phone as soon as the lecturer walked in. But as soon as the lecturer walked in, you noticed a figure that looked.. dazzling if you were to admit, walking after the lecturer. The lecturer instructed him to sit beside you since it was the only empty seat. He gave a small nod before sitting beside you. The lesson soon began, and you could hear small chatter, most likely about the new guy. Most girls were drooling over him, if not all, except for you, that is. You wanted a normal school life, a normal romantic life as well. Not one that would consist of your significant other being famous or something, just a normal, typical man that would love you from the bottom of his heart.

The lecturer couldn't care less if people weren't paying attention. He was just there to teach. It wasn't any of his business if the students didn't want to listen. After all, they'd get kicked out of the school if they fail twice a row anyway. Your eyes slowly drifted to the person beside you. He was quiet, his skin pale, and his eyes were those of a beautiful emerald hue paired with a bit of yellow, fully showcasing how captivating his eyes itself were. After a minute or two of staring, you looked away, already noticing the girls in class staring daggers ar you. After class, you were immediately pushed out of your seat, multiple girls swarming your new desk mate as they tried to make conversations with him. He didn't appreciate it much at all. He gave all of them a cold look before speaking, his tone icy cold as he narrowed his eyes slightly at them

"Scram."

That single word was enough to leave pouts and whines on the girls. They all left, sulking as they went to have their lunch. You then noticed him turning to you, offering you a hand as he witnessed how they had pushed you off just to get a seat next to him

"...are you okay?'

Blinking a few times, your own hand slowly accepted his, getting up from the floor as you offered him a small smile and sat down again next to him

"Yeah, thank you"

He gave a small hum, turning his head away, cutting off your line of sight from seeing his face. You couldn't notice it, but his cheeks were slightly red. He hadn't gotten that flustered over a girl before..

"Kinich."

He spoke. It was a single word, but you got what he meant by it, obviously it being his name. After exchanging names with him, he didn't talk much after that. But whenever looking away, he would sneak small glances at you. He wanted to get to know you better. He didn't know what this foreign feeling was whenever his heart skipped a beat in his chest from seeing your little smile, but whatever it was, he wanted to more of it.

[jwsverse]

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 timestamp 03:09

pairing ⁝ jake x f!reader

synopsis ⁝ in which jake tells the boys all about his crush on you, and he's way too downbad

genre ⁝ fluff!!! , reader is implied to be "cold", jake is in luv and the boys are real goofs, oh reader os also said to have bunny teeth (sawry if you guys dh it cause i do so im sorry for being self indulgent 😥)

word count ⁝ 0.8k

author's note ⁝ ummmm idk what this is but i wanted to make tbis like black cat x golden retriever typa shii... kinda wanna write a long fic for this icl!' also fhis is NAWTTT proofread

“you like who?!”

jake stumbles back a bit at the loudness of jake's voice. he chuckles awkwardly, glancing around at the boys who are now gathered around him. even heeseung, who was about to make his leave for his next class, turns around with wide eyes.

“uh, i like y/n?” jake scratches the back of his neck shyly, flushing under the eyes of his friends as well as from his confession, “what's wrong?”

jay jumps from his seat, leaning across with his palms flat om the table as he hurriedly says, “but why? i mean like how? what about y/n? why her?”

jake is a little confused, and it's clear, so sunoo quickly clarifies, “there's nothing wrong with y/n! she's our friend and we love her!” then a pause, and his face scrunches up as he hesitates, “but it's just... you know, y/n. she's not the most cheerful nor is she the friendliest! and you've known her the shortest among us! so you know, we're just shocked.” sunoo ends his ramble with a stiff tilt of his head as he leans back into his seat.

“oh,” jake utters out quietly, flushing red, “but y/n's great. she's not very cheerful or friendly. but she cares a lot! especially for you guys!” he defends.

he doesn't quite understand what the guys are trying to say here. he knows that amongst all of them, he's known you the shortest, considering he joined the friend group late after transferring here. but, feelings don't need explanation, right? there's no reason for liking someone, it's a ‘just because’ kind of thing.

“and she's super pretty! especially when she smiles and laughs, which i know is rare, but she only ever does it around you guys, you know? she hates it but, when her bunny teeth shows it's the cutest thing and i think that makes her so unique. and she may seem cold, but i think she really cares for you guys! like whenever we go to parties, she doesn't drink cause she know you guys would get drunk, so someone has to take care of you guys.” jake rambles. he takes a deep breath, only then noticing the boys' wide eyes all staring at him.

“what?”

sunghoon, who has been silent all this while, shakes his head, gesturing for jake to go on.

“y/n's... well she doesn't show it. but she's actually really sensitive. every time you guys tease her, she may flick you off but deep down, she does get hurt! i mean you can just tell by the way her eyes shift downwards and she goes quiet for awhile.” jake frowns at a fresh memory from just last week when the boys joked about you rejecting a boy who confessed to you too coldly, and you had looked hurt for a second, before masking it up into annoyance.

“she hates it when people see her blush, but when she does, her cheeks don't turn pink, her neck does. and she always tucks her hair back when she's nervous and she'll never make eye contact with you! she's always the happiest when she's with us, and you'll miss her subtle smile if you don't pay attention. her eyes always go brighter and her way of showing care and love is by rolling her eyes and being childish.”

“i like y/n. i really do, i know i've known her the shortest and there are still many things i need to know and understand about her, but i just want you guys to know i'm really sincere about her.”

jake has to take a deep breath once he's finished. his face is red, and his mouth is dry from all the rambling. even so, he wants to go on, and he intends to, until heeseung cuts in, with his palm in his face, stopping him.

“okay that's enough. we get it jake, we trust you.” heeseung utters out with a smirk, finding the flush on his friend's cheeks awfully funny and cute. “we know you're a good guy and we think you'll be good for y/n! let's just take this slowly, okay? let's discuss after class.”

heeseung grabs his bag and heads for the door, turning back to jake as he winks, “don't worry, we won't tell y/n.” he twists the door knob and immediately halts.

right behind the door, stands you with wide eyes in shock and your hand about to knock. the heat is evident in your neck as you glance from heeseung to jake then you look away immediately.

“i...” your throat dries up as you snap out of it and tuck your hair behind your ear in a hurry, “i just wanted to grab my book.” then without looking at any of them, you cover up the side of your neck, sneak pass heeseung to grab your belongings and you run out of the room.

sunoo chuckles awkwardly, “well... at least you got her behavior on point.”

© jwsverse

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?"��

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - They Are the Rival Boss Who Likes You (pt. 2)

Summary: You were in an abusive relationship with your ex-boyfriend who was also in a gang. At a benefit, you run into M/N, your boyfriend's rival, whose mind has been on you since he met you. He helps you escape and takes you to the safety of his apartment.

Warnings: mentions of abusive relationship, but mostly trauma recovery

PART 1

A/N: Without a doubt, the softest thing I have ever written. All of the members' Y/Ns are different though. They have different degrees of trauma and different ways of dealing with it.

I planned to post this days ago but I just couldn't do Jimin and Taehyung's part. I don't know why but I always struggle writing them the most, especially Taehyung ... His character gives me shivers, honestly, in the best way.

Let me know if I should do a part 3.

***

Jin

Although Jin asked if you were hungry, you did not have an appetite in the least. You asked to take a shower however, and Jin lent you some of his clothes to change into. You put on his sweatpants that you needed to roll up at the bottom and a knitted, white cashmere sweater softer than anything you had ever felt before in your life.

The rain only grew stronger outside when you returned to the living area finding Jin by the window, his hands stuck in the pockets of his trousers. He was in deep thought before he noticed you were back.

"How are you feeling?" asked Jin.

"Better," you nodded. The hot shower helped you calm down some although it also made you exponentially more tired.

"How are you?" you asked Jin in turn. He looked at you.

"Good," Jin nodded softly, a small smile on his lips. He could see the tiredness in your eyes and the yawns that you desperately tried to suppress but failed.

"You should try and get some rest," said Jin reassuringly and showed you to the guest bedroom.

Once you you wished Jin goodnight, you climbed into the bed eagerly and pulled the covers over you. The walls of the room were a shade of grey so pale it was almost blue, with a white ceiling and a matching carpet. The bed had an ornate white frame in the same style as the vanity table and the closets along the wall. You only managed to look yourself in the mirror for a moment when brushing your teeth, feeling almost disgusted with yourself. You could not believe you asked Jin for help and asked him to expose himself. It was a moment of desperation, you knew, but it did not make you feel anything better - or helped you fall asleep any faster.

It was only towards dawn that exhaustion took you and you managed to get a couple of hours of good sleep, but for most of the night, your mind could produce nothing but nightmares. You dreamed of Kang, of your family, and even of Jin. Yet even though you did not sleep much, you still felt better when you rolled out of bed in mid-morning.

You could hear the movement in the kitchen when you opened the door of the guest bedroom. You did not know why but you tiptoed down the hallway, slowly peeking into the kitchen. Jin was at the counter cutting up some fruit, a pot of French press getting ready. He was wearing a pale blue shirt and black trousers, an elegant wristwatch shinning on his hand.

Jin could feel your gaze on him, having heard the door of your bedroom open.

"Good morning," said Jin when he saw you half-leaning, half-hiding behind the wall of the hallway that opened into the kitchen one the one side and living area on the other.

"Morning," you said quietly as you joined Jin in the kitchen.

"Do I ... I can I help with anything?" you asked, feeling completely useless.

"It's okay," smiled Jin. "There's coffee."

You nodded and uttered a small 'thank you', your eyes drifting to the dining table. It was sat beautifully with napkins, little bowls, cups and glasses.

"Cream, sugar?" asked Jin as he poured you some French press. You stared at him.

"Why are you so kind to me?" you found yourself asking. The pang of guilt you have been feeling was no longer just a pang but a heavy mass that weighed on your chest.

Jin leaned his long arms against the counter, the smile leaving his eyes beneath a forming frown.

"Why did you even help me?" you asked almost desperately. Your eyes filled with tears suddenly and you hated yourself for it.

"You asked me," said Jin somberly, staring down at you.

"But I shouldn't have!" you cried, wiping away your tears that kept on falling. "You should have said no ..."

"What are you talking about?" asked Jin astounded. He took your palm and squeezed your fingers in his hand reassuringly.

"If something happened to you for helping me ..." you shook your head, hiding your eyes behind your free hand as you tried to stop yourself from crying.

Jin watched you, taken back by your words. His heart weighed heavy in his chest to see you cry.

"I should have never gotten you into this," you whispered once you managed to calm down a little. "You're the only friend I got."

Jin tugged on your hand gently and pulled you to him, his arms wrapping around your body. You did not know how to react at first but your hands soon found their way around Jin's shoulders as you curled up against his chest.

"You didn't get me into anything, Y/N," said Jin definitively. "You got yourself out of something."

You nodded as you pulled away, trying to wipe away the tear stains but Jin beat you to it. His large hands cupped your face as he brushed away your tears with his thumbs and made you look up at him.

"Now ... Cream, sugar?" Jin smiled warmly.

Namjoon

You looked around the living area whilst Namjoon disappeared to get you some clothes to change into. His place was very different from what you expected by the look of him. Although in truth, you knew the problem was that you did not know him at all. The thought made you nervous and yet not as nervous as what your night, your life with Kang would have been like if you had not left with Namjoon tonight.

Your eyes skimmed over the books on the shelves, the magazines and newspapers on the coffee table. It was raining outside, millions of drops gliding down the window-wall that opened into an atrium with a small tree. It was pleasant inside, however, with the soft carpet beneath your feet and plants from orchids to bonsai everywhere you looked.

You thought Namjoon would live in a tall skyscraper and yet the drive took you to the outskirts of the city, to a short apartment building. You turned back to the atrium and frowned, wondering whether he owned the entire building.

"Here," said Namjoon, waking you from your thoughts. You jumped around, your eyes on the clothes Namjoon was offering you.

"Everything I have is going to be too big on you," said Namjoon with a small shake of his head as he licked his lips.

"That's fine," you breathed, grateful. It would have been enough if he simply dropped you off somewhere. You could hardly believe that you were even in his home.

"You didn't ..." you began voicing a horrible thought that appeared in your mind but stopped yourself when Namjoon's eyes met yours. Your lips parted yet you could not make yourself say it.

"What?" encouraged Namjoon.

"Nothing," you shook your head as your mouth went dry.

"What?" insisted Namjoon, his dark eyes forcing the answer from you as his brows furrowed into a frown. You clutched the clothes closer to your chest, your fists balling around the soft material of the hoodie and sweatpants he gave you.

"I just ..." you tried again, feeling as if you had swallowed a ball of sand. "Are you helping me to get revenge on Kang?"

The answered scared you. Even if Namjoon was only using you to get ahead of Kang and to spite him, there was very little you could do about it. Once caught up in this world, it was impossible to get out. You were just Namjoon's plaything. And it would explain why he brought you to his apartment and not simply dropping you off at a station or something.

Your heart was thumping hard against your throat as heat prickled on your neck.

Namjoon stared at you for a moment, a moment that seemed to you to last forever although it was barely a few seconds. He turned away and let out a short breath before he licked his lips and his dark eyes returned to you.

"It would be outrageous if I liked you, wouldn't it?" said Namjoon serenely as if he were only thinking out loud, his voice quiet but deep.

It took you a moment to realize it was not serenity Namjoon spoke with but disillusionment. Your lips parted but his words had knocked you out of air.

A loud thunder echoed through the air, making you wince as you looked over your shoulder and into the stormy night air. But as you returned your attention on Namjoon, he was already making for the kitchen.

You hurried, catching up to him when Namjoon suddenly turned around. You had to take a step back to be able to look up at him, a flush of hot fever rushing to your cheeks.

"You like me?" you breathed, your chest rising and falling heavily as your eyes locked with his. You could not tell what Namjoon was thinking but there was a storm of thoughts behind his eyes.

A small, almost invisible breath escaped Namjoon's lips before he turned around, reaching for the teapot.

"Wait," you reached for Namjoon's hand instead. His dark eyes followed your touch back to your eyes. "Please talk to me," you begged in a whisper, tears threatening to creep into your eyes.

Namjoon studied you before he leaned down closer to you.

"I like you," said Namjoon quietly, his chest rumbling with the deepness of his voice. His eyes radiated a warmth you had never known before. Suddenly, all of the times you saw Namjoon at all of those benefits and fundraisers came flooding right back to you: the warm smiles hiding in his eyes, the nods, and the hellos, when he talked to you - how he talked to you ...

"You like me?" you exhaled incredulously.

The warmth inside Namjoon's eyes swirled with amusement as he breathed a smile, this time managing to reach for the teapot. He could feel your gaze on his back as he poured water into the kettle, the smile on his lips growing.

You were too stunned to speak, certain that he would dismiss your assumptions and not confirm them. You did not know how you felt about Namjoon, you hardly knew him; but you could definitely feel the butterflies in your stomach.

You managed to take a shower and wash the makeup off your face before changing into the clothes Namjoon lent you. He was right too; you had to roll up the cuffs of the sweatpants whilst his hoodie fell to the middle of your thighs. You did not mind though, grateful to get out of the evening dress you wore before.

You found Namjoon in the living room, his back to you as he spoke on the phone, holding a tall cup of tea between the tips of his fingers. You leaned against the arch that opened into the living area, waiting for him to finish the conversation. Namjoon had heard you coming and ended the phone call, his gaze rising from your toes up to your eyes as he saw you in his clothes.

Your heart began beating faster in your chest as blood rushed to your cheeks.

"Is everything alright?" you asked, referring to Namjoon's phone call.

"Everything is alright," confirmed Namjoon and made his way over to you. Although the phone call was Yoongi who called him with news of Kang's rage and promises of revenge, Namjoon wouldn't dream of telling you. You were upset enough as it was.

Namjoon did not have to tell you though. You had become frighteningly good at noticing even the smallest signs of tension in the past months and you could see it in Namjoon's broad shoulders.

"He knows I'm here, doesn't he?" you asked quietly. Your eyes prickled with tears but you looked away. You were so tired of crying.

Your gaze rose to Namjoon's when he did not say anything.

"Doesn't he?" you whispered to keep your voice from breaking. Namjoon's eyes watched you, a parting in his lips as he realized he could not lie to you, not when you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

"He knows."

"I should—"

"You don't have to worry about it. I'll handle it," Namjoon cut you off immediately. He would not hear it.

"But—"

"Y/N, I'll handle it," decided Namjoon, giving you no space to argue. Your eyes studied his face but he was unwavering in his decision.

You had no choice but to nod although it only made the tears spill from your eyes as your chin quivered. It was all too much: Kang, the benefit, the escape, rolling all of this responsibility on Namjoon ...

"I'm sorry," you whispered hiding your eyes behind your hand.

"Don't apologize," said Namjoon sternly. "Not for this." His arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you closer, his hand holding your head to his chest as you began to sob. You wanted to apologize a thousand times but Namjoon did not want your apologies; there was nothing to apologize for. He only wanted to hold you and make sure you were safe.

Yoongi

You looked around the apartment warily whilst Yoongi went to get you some clothes to change into as you were still wearing the evening gown. You took a step closer the wall stacked with hundreds upon hundreds of vinyl records. You read some of the tiny titles scribbled on their sides when Yoongi suddenly reappeared behind you.

"I was just looking," you said quickly, making sure he knew you did not touch any of his things.

Yoongi looked at you. "You don't have to just look," he said, gesturing at the record player sitting near the window. You followed his gaze.

"Oh," you breathed. "That's okay." A small smile came to rest on your lips.

Yoongi handed you a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft black hoodie. You thanked him, holding the clothes to your chest.

You could not believe the reality of your situation or what made you agree to do this in the fist place. You may have spoken to Min Yoongi a couple of times before but in truth you did not know him at all and the thought frightened you.

Yoongi showed you around the apartment to break the uncomfortable silence. He opened the door of the bathroom, gestured to his bedroom at the end of the hallway and showed you to the guest bedroom. Yoongi held the door open for you to enter. You hesitated, not catching on to his gesture and waiting for him to enter first.

Yoongi's dark eyes waited on you. You glanced at him.

"Oh," was all that came from your mouth before you quickly scurried inside. The walls were a deep colour neither grey nor green with white wooden lining and a light ceiling that brightened the room. There was cherry blossom in the vase on the nightstand and a large bed with cozy pillows and blankets in the shades of beige against one of the walls.

"I can stay here?" you asked carefully, not wanting to take anything for granted. It was hard enough for you to believe that anyone would go up against Kang for anything, much less to help you.

"It's yours," said Yoongi, leaning against the door frame. "I will let you get changed," he said before you could thank him. He closed the door quietly behind him.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your body sinking into the soft mattress. You held Yoongi's clothes close to you as if they were a pillow. They smelled of laundry detergent and the beautiful fragrance he always wore. You closed your eyes but shouldn't have because your eyes spilled with hot tears and your chest was heavy with sobs that you would not let Yoongi to hear. You weren't sure why you were crying; was it relief or fear or both or nothing at all, but a part of it was all of the stress and anxiety that built up inside of you over the past months.

You changed into the clothes Yoongi gave you whilst still calming yourself down some. You slipped into the bathroom unnoticed and washed your face. One look at your make up and he would have know you had been crying. Yoongi knew anyway though from the redness of your eyes and the tone of your voice.

"Are you hungry?" asked Yoongi and opened the door of his fridge. It was always stacked with food although he almost never ate at home.

"I'm okay," you said genuinely as you leaned against the counter. You could not possibly have anything to eat in that moment.

Yoongi closed the fridge, his ink black eyes turning to you. His clothes were too big on you but he figured they were more comfortable than in the stunning dress you wore.

"I can make you some tea," suggested Yoongi and took a step closer, seeing the restlessness in your eyes.

"It's okay," you spoke quietly, using much self-control not to take a step back. "Thank you," you found yourself saying at last. "For everything."

"You don't need to thank me for anything," said Yoongi, uninterested in your gratitude.

"But I do," you insisted and your eyes watered again. You hated yourself for crying so much but you could not control it. Just the thought of what tonight might have been like for you, if Kang lost control like he did before the benefit ... What tomorrow would have been like and every day that followed if you had not managed to get away from him.

"You don't," said Yoongi again and yet his expression softened when he saw you like this. "You should get some rest," he said gently.

You nodded as he walked you to the guest bedroom. You hesitated before you went in.

"I saw you have sleeping pills in the bathroom," you began, threading lightly. "Would it be okay if I had one?"

"Of course," agreed Yoongi and brought you a glass of water.

"You don't have to ask me this," said Yoongi as you took the sleeping pill. "Anything you need, it's yours." You stared at Yoongi with the glass in your hand. He took it, his fingers brushing against yours, making your skin tingle.

"Thank you," you said again but Yoongi gave no sign of recognizing your gratitude. He would not accept it because in his mind's eye everything he did for you and everything you needed was a given.

You said your good-nights before you closed the door behind you and climbed into bed. You surrounded yourself with pillows, and although your mind was screaming with thoughts and emotions that made your tears soak the covers beneath your head, the sleeping pill was even stronger than you anticipated. You fell into a deep slumber, sleeping for nearly fourteen hours without waking.

Yoongi could barely sleep at all however. He had half a mind to take the sleeping pill himself but he needed himself alert. So instead, Yoongi lay in bed thinking and staring at the ceiling. He could not have cared less about Kang or the rivalry or any of it; his mind always only drifted off to you.

Yoongi would get up every couple of hours and quietly open the door to your bedroom only enough to see that you were alright and sound asleep.

Yoongi came to check on you one last time after he managed to get a couple of hours of sleep himself. Morning was already piercing into view on the horizon when he glanced into your room. He pushed the door open quietly and fixed the comforter over you as it was almost on the floor. Your body sought the warmth in your sleep when the comforter was drawn over you once again and your arms wrapped around it, hugging it close. A small sigh escaped your lips when Yoongi brushed a stray lock of hair from your eyes. He could hear the sound of his own heart ringing in his ears at how beautiful you looked. It took all the strength in him to peel himself away from your side and to not caress your cheek, which could cause you to wake. He did not even want to imagine the look on your face if you found him in your room when you woke. You were already anxious enough because of Kang.

The thought of that man made Yoongi's blood boil. He closed the door of your bedroom gently although the anger he was feeling could have him slam them to the point of breaking.

Yoongi took a long shower to clear his mind and wake him up properly. Kang knew you were with Yoongi and he promised an all-out war. Yoongi could not help but smile to himself as hot water poured down his body. He would enjoy every minute of destroying Kang. He thought about it still even as he got dressed, his wrath fueled even more each time he remembered your bruise and the way Kang must have been treating you.

Yoongi exited his bedroom so deep in thought he almost collided with you, who also just came out of your room. Yoongi's eyes went wide as he steadied you by the shoulders, the scent of your perfume that still lingered on your skin from last night triggering goosebumps on his arms, but it was nothing compared to your small hands resting against his chest.

You stared at Yoongi in his black t-shirt and his black trousers as caught off guard as he was.

"Sorry," you said quickly and took a step back.

Compared to last night, you were more rested than ever. You could not even recall when you last had such a good night's sleep, having slept next to a person you did not trust and did not want anymore for weeks.

"I'm sorry for last night too," you began. Yoongi looked at you surprised. "I wasn't myself; I was tired and I was scared ... And I just ... I really wanted to thank you for everything," you confessed as you bit the inside of your lip.

"Y/N—"

"Please, Yoongi, I just ..." you cut him off but did not know how to put it in words. Yoongi's face softened even more than you thought possible hearing the sound of his name roll off your tongue.

"I just ..." you tried again but there were no words that you could find. Instead, you stepped on the tips of your toes and reached your hands around Yoongi's neck as you pulled him into a tight hug. He froze for a moment, before his arms locked around the middle of your back, his face burying in your neck.

"Thank you," you whispered again and found that this time Yoongi did not protest.

Hoseok

Jung took you to his apartment in the city. The building was an enormously tall skyscraper with a doorman and security men posted at every corner. Your gaze traced their heavy guns as Hoseok led you to the elevator. The closer you got to your final destination, the more anxious you became and the adrenaline began to disappear. The reality of it all hit you like a ton of bricks, a thousand worries weighing down on your chest.

"He doesn't know where you live, does he?" you asked Jung carefully just before the elevator opened.

Hoseok placed his hand on the side of the door to let you pass in case it tried to close.

"Who?" asked Jung as you stepped out into the small, bright corridor. A couple of more men were posted there, making you nervous as your worried eyes returned to Jung.

"He doesn't," assured Hoseok when he saw the look in your eyes. "Even if he did, he would never make it past the lobby."

Jung typed in the security code and pressed his finger against the pad before the door opened.

"Come in."

You stepped inside warily, quickly looking for signs of anything out of the ordinary. But the apartment was beautiful. The hallway opened into a spacious living area that lead to the kitchen and dining room. The walls were creamy and bright and decorated with artwork. There were bookshelves and plants and large windows that allowed for a view of the city, bringing life into the room.

You took off your heels, hesitating a little before entering the living area. It was all so clean and organized like something off a magazine or a Pinterest board.

"It's okay," said Hoseok, the tips of his fingers gently brushing against your shoulder blade.

You nodded. There was a strange warmth about Hoseok that you could not explain. Every instinct in your body trusted him although your mind and reason still needed some convincing. You barely knew him in truth.

Hoseok lent you some of his clothes to change into, a pair of cozy sweatpants and a soft t-shit your body got lost in. He asked if you were hungry or wanted anything else but you had no appetite. Your stomach was still in knots.

Hoseok showed you the guest bedroom where you could stay. The room was warm and inviting, with pale pistachio-green walls and a beige-white carpet that framed the bed, which was topped with pillows and blankets.

The sight of it all, how beautiful and inviting and warm it was, gave your chest a painful squeeze. You hated the tears that prickled your eyes but you could not help but ask,

"Why are you helping me?"

Your voice was soft but your brows gathered into a frown when you looked up at Hoseok. He seemed surprised by your question.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You barely know me," you found yourself whispering to keep your voice from cracking.

"I know enough," said Hoseok, who now frowned as well. You were taken back by how drastically his features could change from soft and inviting, to authoritative and pensive although there was still warmth you could recognize in his dark eyes.

"But how?" you asked quietly, your gaze locked with his. Hoseok looked away and licked his lips before his eyes returned to you.

"I have been keeping an eye on you," he confessed.

"Why?" you breathed, astonished and your brows raised. Hoseok did not say anything although his eyes spoke loudly enough for you to understand.

"My bedroom is just down the hall if you'll need anything," said Hoseok and tore his gaze away from yours. He turned around and made to leave, keeping the door of your bedroom cracked open.

You found yourself forgetting to breathe as you watched him leave. You sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed with emotions. Hand clutched over your chest, you tried to steady your breathing and ease the pain that assembled in your lungs. You tried to find some sleep but you only twisted and turned all night and waited for the morning to come.

You emerged from the room early in the morning, surprised to find Hoseok awake as well. What more, you found him dressed in a pair of elegant black trousers and a crisp white shirt, freshly shaven and showered, smelling like heaven. The entire hallway smelled like his bodywash, giving you goosebumps

You felt like you were in nothing more than a garbage bag compared to Hoseok although it was his Prada t-shirt you were wearing.

Hoseok looked up from his phone, feeling a pair of eyes on him. You blushed and hoped it did not show in the early morning light and with your hair let down.

"Awake already?" asked Hoseok, his morning voice soft and nothing short of warm as he was leaning against the kitchen counter. You nodded, still lingering in the narrow hallway, which opened into the kitchen and living area.

"Did you sleep well?"

You shook your head and joined him at the counter, sitting down on one of the chairs. "I couldn't keep my mind off things," you murmured, your voice soft and quiet in the morning hour. "How did you sleep?"

Something shifted in Hoseok's eyes when you asked him that. "I couldn't keep my mind off things either," he said unblinking, taking in your features: the sheet wrinkles on the side of your neck, the way you breathed softly with your sleepy eyes on his.

Hoseok looked away. He grabbed a large paper shopping bag that sat at his feet and placed it on the counter. They were clothes for you - only some basic items but you were too shocked to thank him.

"You went shopping?" you asked wide-eyed although it probably wasn't even seven in the morning and everything was still closed.

"No, I had someone bring them over," smiled Hoseok.

"I didn't go anywhere," he said after a moment, frowning at the thought of leaving you there all alone.

Hoseok could not sleep at night because his mind kept drifting off to you, sleeping in his apartment, in his guest bedroom down the hall. He thought about your conversation last night and how he handled it. Hoseok was determined to make up for it and ordered his personal assistant to find some clothes for you even if he had to wake the owner of the shopping center in the middle of the night. He wanted to make you comfortable by at least getting you some clothes of your own and some essentials you might need.

You watched Hoseok as a cloud of steam rose continuously from his coffee. You followed a strand of his hair that threatened onto his eyes. You reached over hesitantly, carefully catching the lock between your fingers and tucking it in its place.

Hoseok froze still as you did that, his dark eyes piercing through you as heat crept to your cheeks.

"Sorry," you whispered and crossed your arms again as you were leaning against the counter. Little did you know Hoseok's heart threatened to jump from his chest from racing so fast, and even less did he know that yours wanted to do the same.

Jimin

Jimin took you to his apartment in the city. The building was secured from top to bottom with security posted at every corner. The sight of the guards calmed you and made you anxious at the same time. You quickened your pace, your hand slipping into Jimin's instinctively. His sharp eyes snapped to you, his reaction making you realize what you were doing.

"Sorry," you said quickly, your eyes wide as you tried to take your hand back but Jimin would not let it go. Instead, his fingers intertwined with yours as you entered the elevator. You squeezed Jimin's hand subconsciously, your knee fidgeting beneath your elegant black dress. Your mind rushed in every direction with thoughts of Kang and the benefit at its centre. You wondered how long it took for him to notice that you were gone and that Park was gone too.

"He doesn't ... He doesn't know where you live, does he?" you asked gravely just as the elevator door opened. Jimin's gaze locked with yours. The door wanted to close again but his hand stopped them.

"Of course not," said Jimin darkly. You exited the elevator. "And if he does, he'll be shot dead before he makes it past the lobby," added Jimin, knocking the breath out of you. You stared at him paralyzed as he typed in the code of the apartment lock, imagining the scene in your head. Although Kang has been terrible to you and you wanted nothing else but to get away from him, a part of you still cared for some reason. You have been together for nearly two years and not all of it was bad. Yet on the other hand, if Kang came after Jimin for helping you ...

"Come," said Jimin as he opened the door for you.

You stared at Jimin whilst your heart weighed heavy in your chest and your lungs turned to lead with worry. You took your hand from his.

"I should go," you found yourself saying and turned on your heel, pressing the elevator button.

"Y/N," called Jimin, already catching your hand before the elevator door could even open. "What are you talking about?" His eyebrows had formed into a terrible frown. You could not even look at him as your eyes filled with hot tears.

"I shouldn't be here," you hurried, "If Kang finds out where I am—"

"I told you you're safe, Y/N," Jimin cut you off and you finally managed to look at him, your big watery eyes finding his.

"I don't care about me," you cried. "What if he hurts you?" You looked away as two salty tears slipped down your cheeks. You brushed them away with your free hand, doing your best to control the sobs that wanted nothing more but to escape your lungs.

You looked back up at Jimin when he did not say anything. His frown was almost gone and his jaw softened as his brown eyes filled with warmth.

Another tear slipped from your eye but Jimin caught it with his thumb.

"Come in," assured Jimin, his voice gentle. You hesitated but the tug of Jimin's hand encouraged you before he led you inside.

Jimin turned on the lights, revealing a spacious living area at the end of the short hallway. You slipped off your heels and took in the view. The rich dark tones of the walls and the furniture were balanced out by the white ceilings and warm lights. The living room opened into the kitchen and dining room that further led to a narrow hallway.

"Come, let's get you some clothes," said Jimin, making you turn around. There was a staircase behind you that led to a second floor.

Jimin pushed open the door of his bedroom as he led you through it to his walk-in closet. His room was the opposite of downstairs with its pale walls and dark hardwood floors. The walls of Jimin's walk-in closet, however, were lined with suits and shirts and jewellery and shoes.

"Are you cold? Do you want a hoodie?" asked Jimin but received no answer from you. When he turned around, he found your eyes on one the dressers he had especially made. Jimin forgot one of the drawers open, one with a slick black sniper gun lying in a bed of foam of its exact shape.

Jimin let go of your hand and closed the drawer with a swift gesture. The drawer locked into the dresser, only Jimin's fingerprint being able to open it again.

Your heart was beating hard against your throat as you gaze met with Jimin's. This was not your first time seeing a gun yet the sight of it sent shivers down your spine nonetheless.

"T-shirt or hoodie?" asked Jimin again, changing the topic completely.

"A t-shirt is fine," you managed to utter and although your voice was near as quiet as a whisper, your voice crack slightly anyway. You could see that Jimin noticed because his body froze when he heard it even if only for a split second.

Jimin handed you one of his t-shirts and a pair of cozy sweatpants and gave you some privacy to change.

You slipped from your dress and put on his clothes before emerging from the closet. You expected to find him in his room but he wasn't there. You thought to find him downstairs but you could not help but take a look around Jimin's bedroom. There was a silver laptop on his large bed, only the lamp from his nightstand turned on. You stopped in front of the window-wall and took in the full view of the city; the yellow and red lights glowed in the rainy night with blue lights from an ambulance or a police car passing by here and there. You sank deep in thought. The image of Kang's eyes, of his clenched jaw, and loud voice persisted in your mind as you remembered your last argument. You remembered the fear and the insecurity.

You felt heat on the back of your neck and the pressure of anxiety in your chest. You sat down in one of the two armchairs by the window, trying to calm your trembling hands.

"You know you're sitting in my favourite chair," said Jimin, a shadow of a playful smile in the corner of his lips but you could not see it; you could only hear his words.

"W-What?" you stuttered, comprehending what he said. You stood up quickly, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know ..."

Your big wide eyes jumped to Jimin's as you hugged your arms. His eyebrows hung in a formidable frown, his dark eyes darting to your hands. Although he knew it was there, Jimin's gaze fell upon your bruised elbow for the first time. The purple fingertips that were imprinted into your skin made his stomach twist into knots. It took every ounce of discipline in him not to storm out and kill Kang with his bare hands. Jimin knew you guys fought a lot but he never realized it was this bad or he would have done something about it.

"Y/N," whispered Jimin, his hands slowly cupping your cheeks. You did not even know when it happened but there were tears falling from your eyes. Jimin tried to brush them away with his thumbs but only more fell.

"Y/N, please ..." begged Jimin, his heart falling to pieces to see you cry. You sniffled back a sob and looked down. How you hated to cry; it made you feel weak and helpless but nothing you could do would stop it in that moment.

Jimin pulled you closer, his arms securing around your trembling frame. Your hands wrapped around his waist as sobs filled your lungs. Jimin caressed your hair and held you to him as you cried, his chin resting on top of your head.

Taehyung

You observed Taehyung with the corner of your eye as he drove, still not knowing where he was taking you. You began to doubt whether this was a good idea, whether you could trust Taehyung. They were all in this business together with the same sort of tactics and manipulations. For a moment, you considered it was all just a trap, that Kang and Taehyung made some sort of agreement for your boyfriend to test your loyalty or play a trick on you.

Your hands began to tremble as you blinked back the tears. Taehyung made a sharp turn into the garage of a tall building. You found yourself holding your breath until he parked and you got out of the car. The neon lights almost blinded you but Taehyung found your hand to guide you. He took you to the elevator guarded by three heavily armed bodyguards. They all nodded at Taehyung, their eyes only noting your presence before turning away.

Your heart was beating loud and your head began to feel light as the elevator rose to the topmost floor of the building. You had not even noticed but you have been subconsciously squeezing Taehyung's hand in a fidgety repetition as you tried to calm down. You could feel Taehyung's quiet gaze on you all the way up until the elevator door slid open.

When Taehyung let go of your hand to type in the security code for his apartment, you instinctively hugged your bare arms. Your gaze shifted along the narrow corridor, somehow expecting for Kang to appear in front of you.

"Come in," asked Taehyung not ungently but you nearly gasped at the sound of his voice that startled you from your thoughts. He noticed because an even darker frown settled on his eyes.

"Thank you," you said quietly and slipped inside, trying to disguise how scared you really were. But there was no fooling Taehyung.

You took off your heels, now standing much shorter to Taehyung than before. Your eyes scanned his beautiful apartment and still searched for anything that would stand out. Dark and rich earthy colours dominated everywhere you looked, brightened by warm lights and large windows.

Taehyung showed you around to the kitchen and the dining area and the main hallway which led to one of the bathrooms, his office, a guest bedroom and his own bedroom.

You waited whilst Taehyung got you some of his clothes to change into, your eyes scanning the apartment anxiously. You almost jumped when Taehyung reappeared at your side, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

You thanked him, squeezing the clothes to your chest. "Can I take a shower?" you asked hesitantly.

"Of course," said Taehyung and opened the door of the bathroom for you. He disappeared quietly, giving you the privacy you needed.

The hot water felt good against your skin and calmed some of your nerves although you were still on pins and needles. You dried yourself and changed into the comfortable clothes Taehyung lent you. Your skin smelled of his bodywash, giving you goosebumps.

You found Taehyung in the living room, sitting elegantly on the sofa. His eyes rose from his phone and took in the sight of you in his clothes. You had to roll up the cuffs of the pants but otherwise they were perfect.

"Feeling better?"

You nodded a little, slowly making your way to the sofa where you sat down as well, not too close, not too far from Taehyung.

"Why did you help me?" you asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. If this was not a trap as Kang was nowhere to be seen, you could not help but wonder why Taehyung offered his help to you.

Taehyung turned to you, his formidable presence making your stomach twist and your heart give a painful squeeze.

"I like you ... so I helped you," Taehyung said calmly, the tone of his voice smooth and even like molten gold.

I like you.

A shivery breath caught in the back of your throat as you felt the tips of your fingers prickle with needles. Your heart was beating wildly against your chest.

"And you ... You don't want anything in return for ... For helping me?" you asked timidly, studying Taehyung's face as your eyes found his. He paused.

"Like what?" asked Taehyung. You could see it in the somber expression of his face that he could read the thoughts behind your eyes. He knew what you were asking but was offended by it.

You looked away quickly as your entire body suddenly seemed like it was on fire. Your gaze turned to your hands where you picked on the skin around your nails anxiously. You could feel Taehyung's gaze burn into you.

"I don't want anything in return, Y/N," said Taehyung calmly. He got up and ran a hand through his hair. "You should get some rest."

You looked up at him as Taehyung made past you. A pang of guilt cut deep into your chest when you watched his frame disappear down the hallway.

You tried to find some sleep that night but you couldn't. Although the bed was perfect, the temperature just to your liking, it was your mind that was in a tempest and kept you up. Even when you managed to find sleep for a few minutes, your mind replayed Kang's words mingled with Taehyung's like a broken record.

You're never leaving me. Ever. -I like you. -You're never leaving me. Ever. -I like you. You're never—

You woke up with a start, a loud gasp escaping your lungs as you sat up in bed. The guest bedroom was already kissed by daylight, now waking in the shades of creamy white and deep espresso brown instead of shadows appearing everywhere you looked. The room itself could nearly be an apartment in its own right with its ornate loveseat and a matching armchair, with paintings and dressers and lively green plants.

You rolled out of bed still more rested than you went to sleep even though you had an uneasy night. At the least you could think more clearly than yesterday, which also meant that you felt even guiltier than before.

You expected to find Taehyung somewhere in the living area or the kitchen but he was nowhere to be seen. He was not in the bathroom across your room either, which only left his bedroom. Just as you were about to hide back in the guestroom for a while longer, Taehyung appeared on the doorway of his bedroom.

A blush so strong rose to your cheeks that your skin pulsated with fever. Taehyung was in nothing but a pair of trousers, his hair ruffled and his eyes full of sleep as he leaned one of his arms against the door frame beside his head.

"I'll get dressed in a minute," said Taehyung abently, his voice so deep and husky with sleep it made goosebumps rise on your arms and legs.

"Take your time," you managed to utter, now feeling the blush prickle your chest and neck as well. The image of Taehyung's bare chest would not leave your mind no matter how hard you tried.

You waited in the kitchen, pacing and biting your lip, when Taehyung appeared once again. He wore a pair of elegant black trousers and a matching shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A silver wristwatch rested on one of his hands, the other one resting snugly in his pocket. His dark eyes found you immediately although he was in urgent need of some coffee.

"Did you get any rest?" you spoke, desperate to cut through the silence.

The espresso machine was already buzzing busily when Taehyung turned to you, leaning against the counter.

"I should be asking you that," said Taehyung huskily, a hint of amusement hiding in his eyes. You did not say anything though but waited for him to go first.

"I didn't sleep much," Taehyung told truthfully.

"Me neither," you agreed. "I couldn't stop thinking ... I ... I shouldn't have said that last night." You looked down for a moment, ashamed of yourself.

"Said what?"

"You helped me and I questioned your intentions," you said desperately, beginning to think Taehyung was torturing you on purpose. But when you looked into his eyes, there was nothing he was not sharing with you.

Taehyung stood up straight and walked over to you, stopping only inches away. He leaned down, his forehead nearly touching yours as a sharp breath caught in your throat. Your heart raced wildly.

"If you weren't you, you would have been right to question my intentions," said Taehyung, both of his hands now hidden in the pockets of his trousers yet his gaze remained burned into yours.

"You are in luck though," he spoke again, sending shivers down your spine. "Because as strange and unusual as I as well find it, my intentions with you are nothing if not pure," Taehyung purred, his eyes filled with unusual warmth.

The espresso machine gave a quiet ring.

"Coffee?"

Jungkook

You arrived at Jungkook's apartment building in the middle of the night. The stress not only of the evening alone but the past couple of months caught up to you. Once the adrenaline of escaping your boyfriend subsided, you could not even bring yourself to talk. The entire ride was filled with not uncomfortable silence although you were still on pins and needles. You had not planned to leave the benefit or your now ex-boyfriend the way you did, much less did you think Jeon would be the person to help you do it. You worried you might have made a wrong decision asking him for help as you glanced at his tattooed knuckles gripping onto the steering wheel and his formidable frown.

You got out of the car the moment the engine died, yearning for a breath of fresh air. You did not get it though as you were in the garage of the apartment building and the air was worse than ever. Instead, you came face to face with men clad in black carrying heavy weapons. The sight made your stomach twist into even tighter knots but it was too late now.

You followed Jungkook into the elevator that eventually rose to the top of the building. The ride made you uneasy, making your head feel as light as a feather. Just as the walls seemed to start closing down on you, the door of the elevator opened following a ring.

Jungkook placed his hand on the side of the door to keep it from closing as you walked out. You waited for him in front of another pair of doors where Jungkook typed in the code of the security lock and had the scanner read his fingerprint.

Jungkook opened the door for you, letting you enter first. He turned on the lights quickly and closed the entrance behind him. The click of the door made you turn around, your eyes darting to his. His eyebrows seemed to be frozen in a frown since you left the benefit.

Jungkook's gaze revisited the place where Kang left his fingerprints, his mind drifting off to dangerous places.

You licked your dry lips and took off your heels that were beginning to dig painfully into your feet. As you rose, you finally took in the sight of Jungkook's apartment. It was a balance of dark and light, of vast emptiness and inviting warmth.

"I'll get you some clothes," said Jungkook as he made past you, the smell of smoke and his perfume lingering on his clothes.

You glanced at the door when Jungkook was out of sight and tried the knob but it was locked, the keypad staring at you blinkingly. You did not intend on leaving, you had nowhere to go, but just being able to have that option ...

Jungkook brought you a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft black t-shirt that you thanked him for. He showed you to the bathroom where you changed and washed off your smudged makeup. Yet once you returned, Jungkook could still see the storm of thoughts behind your eyes.

"What is it?" asked Jungkook not unkindly although his frown curved even grimmer if that was even possible.

"Am I ..." you began, not knowing how to string together the words. The answer that you might get frightened you.

Jungkook's eyes waited with expectation.

"Am I allowed to leave?" you uttered at last, your voice quiet as your gaze shifted between Jungkook's eyes and the buttons of his shirt.

"Why wouldn't you be?" asked Jungkook, a hidden sharpness in his voice that you could point out easily. In the past months, you had learned to pick up on the smallest signals and gestures that could most of the time save you from a difficult argument.

"I don't know," you tried to keep your voice loud enough for him to hear although your hands were wet with cold sweat.

Jungkook stared at you. You were avoiding his eyes, your hands if not your whole body were trembling, your shoulders tense.

"Why did you come with me if you're so scared of me?" asked Jungkook. Your eyes found his as your lips parted.

"I suppose I'm not as scared of you as I am of him," you confessed after a moment not only to Jungkook but to yourself. You looked down, ashamed that you felt that way about someone who so far did everything but hurt you.

Your eyes watered with tears and your chin quivered. You thought about everything Kang told you about Jungkook, and you thought about Kang himself; the thought of him made you sick with fever.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you shook your head. You tried to push away the tears, tired of crying, but they fell down your cheeks anyway.

"You've been nothing but kind to me ... If it weren't for you ..." you could not even think about it. You hid your eyes behind your hand, holding back the pain in your chest.

"Fuck ..." muttered Jungkook under his breath and pulled you into his arms despite battling with himself not to do it. He could not forget the way you winced from his touch when he led you to his car, but he did not know what else to do.

You did not flinch this time, however. You welcomed the comfort of his embrace, of his arms wrapping around your frame. His chest felt warm beneath your cheek, the sound of his loud heartbeat calming you down.

You did not know how much time had passed or how long the two of you have been standing that way, but it was long enough for you to feel yourself want to fall asleep.

"I'm so tired," you whispered, your eyes closed and your hands still wrapped around Jungkook's waist.

"I know," said Jungkook quietly not to disturb you. He slipped his arms beneath you and picked you up. If you had had but an ounce of energy left, you would have argued against it and insisted to walk alone but you could no longer fight at all, not for anything.

Soon, there was a soft pillow beneath your head and the covers drawn over your shivering body. The exhaustion made you even colder than usual but you fell asleep anyway.

***

When you woke up, the pale sun was shinning into the unknown room. The walls were charcoal grey, the ceiling white with a wall of windows opening from top to bottom to your side. You sat up quickly, not remembering how you got there, not recognizing any of the furniture nor the bed. Your gaze soon fell upon the armchair in the corner of the room. The memories of last night came back to you when you saw Jungkook sleeping in the armchair. He no longer wore a tuxedo but a black hoodie and a pair of sweatpants as he lay sprawled in the armchair.

You remembered crying in Jungkook's arms and hugging him, and you were almost certain he carried you to bed. Heat rushed to your cheeks and neck, painting them red with blush as you wished for the floor to crack open and swallow you. You were rested now, at least more than last night when you were a complete mess of emotions and could think straight.

Your mind drifted to Kang as you wondered what happened at the benefit after you disappeared, the rage and uproar he must have caused.

Your elbow was even sorer than you remembered and the bruise grew darker and more menacing by the hour. You tried to touch it but the brush of fingertips alone was painful.

Although the armchair looked uncomfortable, you wanted to let Jungkook sleep. You could not stop the butterflies from awakening in your stomach when you saw him like that. His face was relaxed, his brows free from the usual frown. Jungkook's arms were crossed lazily across his chest as he breathed softly.

You slipped from the bed quietly, goosebumps rising on your arms in the cold morning air. It was misty and grey outside, the sun now gone completely. You took the soft blanket from the foot of the bed and made your way to Jungkook almost on the tips of your toes. You folded the blanket once and placed it gently over Jungkook, praying that it would not wake him up.

Jungkook remained asleep as you slipped from the guest bedroom and found the bathroom. It made you uneasy to look through his bathroom cabinet but you were in desperate need of a toothbrush. You opened one of the spare ones and borrowed a bit of toothpaste, followed by washing your face and using your fingers for comb when you suddenly heard footsteps in the hallway.

Your gaze shot up to the bathroom door and your heart jumped in your chest. It took you a moment to remind yourself that you were not at home, that you were safe, and Kang was miles away.

When you reached the kitchen, Jungkook was rubbing his tired eyes with his index and thumb as he stood before the buzzing espresso machine.

You wondered why he decided to sleep in the armchair when Jungkook turned around, feeling your gaze burn into his back.

"Hi," you said quietly, a small smile lining your lips.

"Hey," said Jungkook, his voice deep and husky like broken. Goosebumps rose on your arms.

"Coffee?" he offered, fixing his hair by running his fingers through it.

"Please," you said but felt a pang of guilt when you saw the tiredness on his face. You sat down at the counter and poured some milk into your coffee whilst Jungkook watered his espresso to an americano. Just the smell of coffee managed to bring him back from the dead some, although he yearned for a shower and a workout.

"Why did you sleep in the armchair?" you found yourself asking, unable to stop the blush from creeping to your cheeks. You bit your lip, your eyes shifting between Jungkook and your coffee.

Jungkook watched you for a moment, his eyebrows nestling in their usual frown. "You had nightmares."

"I did?" you breathed, not remembering a thing. You shivered from the cold air but you did not notice as you tried to put together the puzzles of your memory.

"You don't remember?" asked Jungkook and set down his nearly empty coffee cup. You looked up at him when his fingers went to the hem of his hoodie as he pulled it off. The t-shirt beneath it rose to the middle of his torso as he did so, sending a wave of heat to your cheeks.

"Here," said Jungkook and handed the hoodie to you.

"No, it's okay—" you reacted quickly but he cut you off.

"Take it," said Jungkook, leaving no room for arguments. You couldn't do anything else but to thank him to which he nodded absent-mindedly.

You slipped on Jungkook's hoodie, still warm and smelling like him. You sank into the comfortable material, your nose buried in the collar of the hoodie. Jungkook did not say anything for a while, making you look up with big eyes as you just woke from your thoughts.

Jungkook was watching you all the while, leaning against the counter at the hip, until your gaze finally rose to him. His dark eyes were filled with amusement, which made you blush. His lips spread into a small smile as he passed by you and headed down the hallway. You stared at his back until he disappeared from your sight, feeling your cheeks pulsate with heat.

[literaila]

Need more gojo reader smoochfest

“remember this one?”

you’re a little bit dizzy, by now. you can’t remember how long, or when all of this started—but the end result isn’t necessarily unpleasant.

you hadn’t wanted to join nanami and shoko (and gojo whoever that is) for a drink—after a long day, three too many outfit changes, and a bed that you missed like an old childhood friend.

but your complaints are only partially heard, and satoru tends to drag you along wherever he goes, like a doll.

currently, though, you don’t really mind that.

gojo is not drunk, but you definitely are.

that’s why, mind you, when satoru spins you around again on the sticky linoleum floor, in this shitty bar that is definitely too small for dancing—you stumble a little.

but satoru’s hand is right there on your waist, keeping you steady and making sure that you don’t run into anyone that could be passing by.

usually he would let you trip and fall and spill someone’s drink down their shirt—because that would be hilarious—but you’re drunk, and he’s not and…

he enjoys taking care of you, when he gets the chance.

“no,” you say, giggling, when you’re spun back to him. “but i don’t think you should do it again.”

he’s grinning down at you. “why not?”

“because i might puke.”

satoru snorts, slowing his dancing down a little bit—because you really are swaying. “cute.”

“i know. aren’t you glad you married me?”

his eyes are covered but they’re sparkling (or you’re hallucinating). “very glad,” he says, with all the swagger that his seventeen year old self had.

that is to say, absolutely none.

but you lean in anyway, drunk and giddy and sweet, and brush your nose against his.

and satoru complies, like he always does, so his breath tickles your mouth and one of his hand finds its way to your jaw.

you kiss him once, just a slight peck, and pull back. you’ve always been a tease, but you usually reserve it for at home.

not now, though, when he’s so focused on only you, and so close that he could swallow you whole.

dancing always reminds you of satoru proposing, of letting him guide you wherever he wants to go in some sick metaphor about love and torture, the cure and the curse.

and, goddamnit, you’ve always been a sappy drunk. you’re going to regret this in the morning—especially because satoru has the upper hand here.

you told him you loved him for the first time because you were drunk.

and so, “i think im in love you,” you say now, again, just to get him to smile.

“then don’t tease me,” his tone is stern, a bit whiny, but you can see his dimples now.

“it’s so fun, though.”

“everything’s fun when you’re drunk.”

“tipsy.”

“okay, baby.”

“and everything’s fun with you.”

satoru’s mouth opens, his canines glittering in the dim light of the bar, and then he scoffs, “you—“ but he never finishes the sentence because his hand moves to the back of your head and he’s kissing you again.

you settle on your tip toes to reach him, sighing as he pulls you closer.

and you’re not moving now, nonetheless dancing, but who the hell cares?

satoru bites at your bottom lip, as punishment for being in love with him, and allows you to wrap your hands around his neck, drawing circles with your fingertips.

your body is so heavy and uneven, but it’s easy to kiss him like this. you’re not self conscious about the other people because satoru will keep them away from you both, and you’re not worried about breathing because why would you need to breathe when you could be kissing him?

still, eventually he pushes you back, setting his hands on your shoulders so you don’t fall. and he grins at you again, cheeky. “i think i love you, too.”

“oh, good. or this would be awkward.”

he kisses you again, a bit softer, but it’s not even a kiss, really.

because you’re both just laughing into each other, and everything seems so funny for a moment that you just let it happen. if you could rank the moments in time, kissing satoru like this would be very close to the top.

and someone probably shouts at you to get a room—but who cares anyway?

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 2

first time for everything

series masterlist

a/n: heyy y’all!! so this is part 2 of exceeded caution. a lot of it follows the actual movie because i needed set-up for ghostface. there’s still a lot of interaction between the reader + sam & tara but some of it is from the first 30 minutes of scream vi essentially.

warnings: violence (gun usage, knife usage), cursing. he/him pronouns for ghostface.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

a few days ago, sam was nowhere near the forefront of your mind. you had stayed with the group as they navigated their way through accepting that ghostface might be back.

you hadn't spoken to tara much, you felt like you wouldn't be any help to her. she didn't need her ex-girlfriend that she only dated out of convenience around her constantly.

instead, the other carpenter sister started to find solace in your presence.

you found yourself over quite a bit, you noticed that they valued strength in numbers. you even all set a rotation between the group for who would cook that week.

during your week to cook, sam insisted on joining you when grocery shopping. as you promised her that she wouldn't be alone, she mentally promised you the same thing.

"it's just a simple beef stroganoff recipe, sam. you really don't have to come." you smiled sheepishly as you pulled up outside her apartment, she was hopping into your passenger seat.

"ghostface won't let a grocery store stop him from taking lives." sam was firm in her words, you sighed in defeat and drove off towards the shops that were only a couple minutes away from her place. you wanted her to feel safe still.

she pushed the cart while you took ingredients off the shelves, mumbling to yourself as you chucked them in the cart.

"tara used to say your food was amazing. where did you learn to cook?" she asked you, you looked away from your list to smile at her.

"my mom, she's amazing at cooking. she gave up her career to support my dad and become a fulltime housewife." you explained. "i used to help her cook all the time."

"that's pretty cool. i find myself never having the time for new foods. i should probably get on that."

"i can teach you some. or make some for you, i like cooking for people." you shrugged, taking another ingredient off the shelves.

sam would normally decline if you were anyone else, but she felt the urge to accept.

"sure. that would be nice." she nodded at you.

sam had enjoyed you being around more often and getting to know you outside of tara. she even found herself calling you a friend.

or rather, she tried to keep it at friend. she was trying to hide the fact that she felt a pull to you, she didn't know how to explain it. although, one thing was sure, there was an element of guilt to it.

she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. you felt almost dirty with how much you thought of sam. because of the frequency of your contact, you found yourself wanting to see her more.

was this against some form of girl code that you shouldn’t want to hang out with your ex’s sister?

“um… how are you?” she could see that you were nervous to ask her that. “i know you probably get asked that all the time but i never ask… and i want to know.”

“that’s fine. i figured you would get curious. you always seem to be.” sam commented.

“is curiosity bad?” you teased a little, noting her phrasing.

“no! not at all.” she perked up, shaking her head.

“don’t worry sam, i’m joking.” you realised that the carpenter sisters weren’t used to bantering with someone they weren’t extremely close to— or someone they didn’t love.

“right.” she bit her lip. “but no? it’s not bad at all.” she chuckled. “but i’m… not okay?”

you nodded, respecting her answer and silently thanking her for being honest.

“i hoped that we would escape this when we moved. and i’ve been doing everything to protect tara but it didn’t end for sidney prescott— so i assume that it won’t end for us.” she scratched her brow, the stress getting to her. “i’m sorry you got involved.”

“it’s okay, sam. i knew what i was getting into when i dated tara.” you nodded. “if it happened again, i already knew i’d stick around.”

“that’s admirable.”

you felt your heart clench a little when she said that. nobody had ever told you that your desire to stick around was admirable. you always got “clingy” or “overbearing.” that was the first time you’d ever gotten a compliment on it.

“oh! um… thank you.” you stuttered out, a blush flooding your cheeks. you knew that sam meant it too, she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. she was genuinely saying it.

“it’s true.” it was.

you tried to push your flustered down into the depths of your mind as you struggled to reach the top shelf with the last of your ingredients. you were definitely taller than tara— everyone was. but not tall enough to face this eight layered shelf.

sam was.

sam was taller. and she made that perfectly clear when she basically pressed up behind you to grab this damn dijon mustard for you.

oh no… oh no… you had to stop those thoughts. you had turned around too quickly, basically coming chest to chest with the girl. she didn’t seem to mind— and you refused to mind.

you had never been this close to her before. your eyes trailed over all her features, taking them in. she looked just like tara… maybe that’s whats got your heart beating at the speed of light.

but she wasn’t tara. no, she was sam. and you found that to be what sealed the deal for you.

you found her pretty.

you remained silent as you finished off the last of the ingredient collection. you walked over to the self check-out, scanning the items as the blush continued to make its presence known as sam hovered.

you shuffled some things around in your pocket to try and find your card but before you knew it, sam was paying for your groceries.

“what—“ you tried to protest but the transaction had gone through already.

sam didn’t know what overcame her.

it was her way of taking care of you.

it was even her way of apologising to you.

"sam, you didn't have to do that." you shook your head at her.

"my treat, i didn't get to cook for everyone so this is my way of contributing." she shook you off. you knew that was a lie because mindy sent you a photo of meals you missed, one being sam's.

there was no undoing it now. you sighed and reached for the bags, but sam was one step ahead of you, grabbing them and walking out of the store.

you wished you could wash the blush off with soap.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you arrived for dinner with your groceries. everyone was already at the carpenter’s apartment. they were spread out across the entire floor, conversing with each other.

you got to cooking almost immediately, knowing that everyone had potentially been there for a while. sam left your side to talk to quinn.

you kept feeling eyes on you.

the shorter carpenter sister was talking to mindy when she felt her attention turn away from her and onto you. she watched you cook, she actually always loved your cooking.

she loved when you would make a dinner catered just to her. she actually missed how lively the kitchen used to be when you were in it. you were even dancing around now, your headphones tucked over your ear.

she smiled a little at how you shook your waist to the music. everyone knew not to bother you so you could get it done quicker.

but tara wanted to bother you. she wanted to approach you and say something, anything to break the silence.

you were friends before everything went down. she thought that maybe she could at least salvage that, that would be her way to redemption.

mindy kept talking and talking before cutting herself off suddenly, realising that tara was no longer paying attention.

“tara, don’t.” mindy said, disappointment clear in her tone. “this is something you need to give time to.”

“there’s been a lot of time.” tara muttered, glaring at mindy.

“you can’t just break her heart and expect her to let you back in so quickly.” mindy held her shoulder back.

“i know it won’t be quick, but i have to try.” tara said through her teeth, pulling her shoulder out of mindy’s grasp and starting to make her way towards you.

tara stopped on her heels when she saw her sister already take your attention. she thought that she’d better not interrupt you.

“whatcha listening to?” sam asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

you pulled your headphones back a little.

“sloppy jane.” you said.

“sloppy jane? what kind of name is that?!” sam laughed.

“she’s cool! i promise!” you raised your hands up in defense. you took your headphones off your head, you gently placed them on sam. your hands nicking strands of her long hair before you pulled them away.

she held eye contact with her as her head bobbed to the music, you matched the bobbing, knowing which part of the song she was on.

a smile formed on her face while you two were in sync. your eyes started to crinkle up with a smile as your hair started getting in your face when you headbanged. she joined you until the kitchen was filled with laughter.

“okay… okay. i see it now. she has a good sound.” sam agreed with you, placing the headphones back on you but leaving an ear open.

“thank you.” you chuckled, moving the beef strips into the bowl you intended to serve it in.

“this smells soooo good.” sam practically moaned out, you laughed at the noise she made.

“well, you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else!” you teased.

she groaned and rolled her eyes. you liked seeing her loosen up a bit more, you were grateful she was getting more comfortable around you.

as you two laughed, tara stared on.

she remembered when she was in sam’s place. she even felt herself grow jealous at her sister. why did she ever think that what she was doing to you was okay? your heart was gold and tara thought she had turned it dark— she realised your golden heart’s integrity never faltered. you were still just as good.

she was cruel and she broke your heart. she didn’t think she would regret it— until she suddenly felt all that guilt wash over her. was she regretting it?

you enlisted sam to help you bring all your dishes to the table.

“beef stroganoff, pasta, and rice. choose your carb to go with it and enjoy!” you presented your meal to the group.

everyone admired your work and sat down at the table. you ended up sitting beside mindy who talked your ear off about some pottery class that she and anika took.

you glanced over at sam first, her eyes meeting yours during her conversation with ethan. you two exchanged heartfelt smiles, you had a good day because of each other.

then you looked at tara, who was already looking at you. her first serving was practically gone. you knew that she loved one thing about you, and it was your cooking. she held a sadness behind those eyes, you saw into it, but you had your doubts that it was sadness.

when you noticed her plate, you felt yourself flash her a smile too. she returned it, it was shy but still genuine. her plate was cleaned up just seconds after everyone served themselves.

crumbs of you, tara would take. she cherished that smile you gave to her, even if it was forced or accidental. it filled her brain.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

washing up had to be done, you wanted do it yourself, saying how you were on a roll from cooking that you wanted to do the cleaning too.

sam was about to speak up but suddenly, tara found her voice.

“i’ll help!” she said, chirping up. everyone looked at her with confusion. they didn’t expect that she would do that for you.

“oh… okay!” you said, making your way over to the kitchen.

you scrubbed the plates and handed them to her to dry. it was a good system that worked.

“you did well with dinner today. your cooking is always good.” tara smiled at you.

“thank you, tara. i appreciate it.” your lips pressed into a thin line.

“i just wanted to say that.” she put the plates onto the drying rack. “we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“i know. i just wanted to give you space. i felt like i wasn’t much help to you ever. and i felt like i wouldn’t be much help now.” you confessed. “but i want to stick around, i would be a pretty shit person if i didn’t.”

she felt horrible that you thought that you wouldn’t be help. in fact, there were some nights that tara found herself longing for you.

“we were friends before this, do you think we’d be able to get back to that?” she asked, searching your face for hope. but all she saw was doubt.

“maybe, tara.” you turned to her, handing her the last of the dishes. you saw the dejected look on her face and sighed. you wanted to go back to that too, you missed the tara that was a good friend to you. “but we can try.”

tara’s face lit up, a bit of shock also hidden between the lines. “okay! yeah… let’s try.” she put the dish away and held her hand out, you chuckled but you shook it.

what you failed to see was your maybe friend’s sister staring at you both from the living room, her jaw tightened as tara touched you.

sam zoned back into the conversation, realising that the show they were watching was long gone and replaced by the news again.

there was another death.

sam erupted in her anger, suddenly storming into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife that she owned.

you had no idea what just happened, tara followed her sister back to the living room, the commotion having everyone sit up.

“sam! slow down!” tara yelled after her sister, you joined them after putting the dishes away. “can we please think about this before you decide to abandon my college education?!”

you couldn’t blame sam for wanting to leave. this was something that she just wanted to escape. as much as you would be upset, you would understand. you’d help, even.

you would help them pack up if it meant they were away from everything. you were prepared to never speak of the carpenter sisters again, in hopes that they would never have to go through this again.

“this can’t just be a coincidence, tara!” sam yelled back at her. today was the day where you saw the genetic stubbornness displayed by the carpenter sisters.

“quinn, can you please call your dad?!” tara asked their roommate, quinn immediately nodded. you could tell she didn’t want to get yelled at by sam but it was a reasonable point of action.

ring!!!

everyone flinched. you didn’t. it was just a phone ringing to you, but to everyone else, it was so much more.

sam’s phone blared on the table, she walked over only to see that it was gale weathers, she declined the call without a doubt.

you watched as quinn travelled across the room, telling sam that her father wanted to speak to her. you heard the muffled voice of mr. bailey from where you were standing.

“okay, thank you. i’ll be right there.” sam hung up. “he wants me down at the station.”

“i’ll drive you.” you said, grabbing your keys. “i live close to the station.”

“you shouldn’t have to—“ you cut sam off.

“no. i will. no man left behind, remember?” you said, firm in your decision. sam sighed but nodded.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you, sam, and tara made it out the door and started to walk to your car.

suddenly, sam’s phone rang again. the two girls stopped when they saw the name displayed on the screen.

richie kirsch.

richie? you recognized that name. you huddled closer to the sisters, closing your eyes to rack your memory for where you knew that name.

no. wait.

it couldn’t be. he was dead, wasn’t he?

“don’t pick that up.” tara said, looking up at sam.

sam hesitated, but it could be important. these calls were life or death for them. she picked up.

you looked at your surroundings. you suddenly felt so exposed, like anything could happen to you now that you weren’t in the comforts of your own home— or anyone’s home.

“who is this?” sam asked into the phone. you couldn’t hear the responses, only sam’s facial expressions changing as time went on.

her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes changed. you saw woodsboro glaze her pupils, you knew she was thinking back to her life before the city. everything was resurfacing.

“i want you to think long and hard about whether or not you wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead.” she said, planting her feet down with determination.

your eyes started to tear away from sam, not absorbing the conversation.

bad gut feeling.

you had to stop ignoring those.

“you better watch your back, asshole.” sam said.

and tara yelled.

a cloaked figure sporting a ghostface mask suddenly grabbed tara, you sprung into action. tara elbowed the figure and you shoved him into the bike rack.

“go!” you said, running just behind the two sisters.

“there!” sam redirected you into a little corner store. you stood with your front to the door while the girls yelled at the cashier to help them, starting a fight with someone in line.

suddenly ghostface walked in.

you backed up into sam, pushing her backwards a little bit while one of the customers stood tall in front of the infamous killer.

you watched as ghostface drove their knife into the man, multiple times.

you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. you had never seen anyone get killed before. you thought ghostface had specific targets, this wasn’t just an ordinary killer, this killer wasn’t afraid to take any life that stood in his way.

you turned around and the three of you flooded into the back of the store as the clerk wielded his gun.

when the first gunshot rang, sam’s arm flew to cover you as chips flew everywhere. tara was crouched just beside the two of you.

suddenly, there was a second gunshot. but only after you heard the clerk start begging for his life.

you tried to stay quiet, you didn’t realise where parts of your body were. you had a hand on sam’s abdomen, bunching her shirt into your fist. you were terrified, you had never gone through this before. you couldn’t imagine what sam & tara were feeling.

you couldn’t move— or else he would know where you were.

the corner store was quiet, it was like a cruel game of cat and mouse. you heard crunching as the sound of boots got closer to you.

all three of you rounded the corner to avoid detection. sam hid behind a freezer while you and tara hid behind the shelving. you saw sam’s eyes flicker to a can on the ground and you knew what she was trying to say.

carefully, you reached out and picked the can off the floor. it was disgusting and sticky. was this what they had to result to when defending themselves? putting themselves in disgusting situations? you felt twisted picturing them going through this once— now twice.

you threw the can across the corner store, hearing boots walk in the other direction. it was a successful distraction. the three of you started crawling towards the exit.

when you heard the boots stop moving again, you paused. sam leaned forward, you could tell that she could see a lot clearer than you. she slowly inched towards the shelving, then she suddenly shoved it with her shoulder, knocking it down.

god, she was strong.

had she been training herself to get stronger? in case this happened again?

the three of you hauled ass to the exit, being met with cop cars and their sirens.

the three of you were escorted into the cars. the sisters rode in one while you went in the other. you fidgeted with your fingers. then it was daunting on you.

baby’s first ghostface attack.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you sat in an interrogation room at the precinct. the walls were closing in on you.

you had been close to death before. you remember when you and your parents got into that gnarly car accident that had you coming out with several broken bones and whiplash. you cradled your arm, feeling the after-effects of the worst injury you sustained.

but this wasn't a car t-boning yours. this was a killer.

and you felt like death was kissing your cheek.

you didn't know where sam and tara were, you assumed a different interrogation room. you were waiting for ages, you thought that maybe someone was attending to them first.

you sat in silence for about ten more minutes, trying to decompress the situation.

the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing detective bailey. you had met quinn's dad in passing, never really speaking to him.

"mr. bailey. how are you?" you asked him, sitting up in your chair. you noticed he had files in his hand. this was going to take longer than you wanted.

"i'm good. thank you... how are you doing? you weren't around for woodsboro, i'm sure it's a bit of a shock to be involved now." straight into it.

"a bit is an understatement, sir." you let out a dry chuckle. "i'm assuming you're going to be asking me more than just 'how are you' though..."

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably tired." he sighed, you nodded. you were trying to hold back a yawn.

"it's fine."

he sat down across from you, opening the file and putting its contents in front of you.

"you're the newest addition to the group, quinn has talked about you. i know you and tara had a past relationship. were you frequently in and out of their apartment?" he asked.

"yeah... tara and i were together for a bit. i usually visited her and i also hang out with mindy and chad, so yes, i was frequently at theirs." you nodded, you often found that honesty was the best policy with these things.

"i know that your relationship with her ended badly." he stated, you scoffed.

"surely a bad break-up isn't enough motivation to go on these killing sprees, right?" you asked, a bit offended.

"sometimes it might just be."

"did you have access to sam carpenter's belongings?" he followed up. what did sam's stuff have to do with this?

"um... no. not really. i never really interacted with sam until ghostface was rumored to resurface. and even then, i don't really have that access." you crossed your arms across your chest, your eyes scanning the photos on the desk. you spotted a photo of sam's license, bloodied and dumped at the scene of the crime.

someone was trying to frame her.

"we found sam's license next to the body."

"well she was with me all day. we went grocery shopping and i cooked everyone dinner." you quickly jumped at the chance to defend her. "tara was there too."

mr. bailey nodded at you confirming their alibi.

"sam said the same thing." he reassured you. he leaned in a bit closer to you. "although, i'd be cautious about those sisters. especially sam. i wouldn't get too close."

your brows furrowed in frustration.

"i'm sure i have nothing to worry about. they're good people." you didn't want to speak any further on the matter.

you hated that the thought of either of them being responsible for these deaths even crossed the detective's mind. he was supposed to be helping them.

two knocks against the door turned the detective's attention to another officer walking into the room.

"the fbi is here." the officer said. detective bailey looked confused.

"the fbi? where?" he stood up then turned to you. "you're free to go. i think sam and tara are waiting for you."

you stood from your seat and followed him, making your way over to the two dark-haired sisters. tara was the first to spot you, nudging sam until she turned around.

you sped up, you didn't know what it was. you just had to make sure she was real.

you wrapped your arms around sam. you felt her tense up out of shock but return the gesture.

"i'm sorry." you apologised for the sudden hug.

"it's okay." sam smiled warmly.

you turned to tara and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

tara's eyes met yours. those pleading doe eyes, they wanted more than just a squeeze on the shoulder. she wished she was sam in that moment.

"i'm really glad you two are okay." you cleared your throat. sam smiled at you, even if it was forced, it was nice to see.

you heard two voices chatting just a little bit aways from you. sam started moving towards them, you and tara followed behind.

"kirby?" she spoke, getting the attention of a blonde woman.

"hey sam." kirby replied, moving to hug sam as well.

"do you know each other?" bailey asked.

"yeah... we went to woodsboro high together. she was a senior when i was a freshman." sam clarified. you studied the woman in front of you.

all you could say was that she looked cool. she was an fbi agent that had been monitoring the sisters for a little while. you realised that this had been the kirby involved with the killings too. they shared a very unique experience between each other.

you stayed behind sam while they conversed. kirby was handed the mask that was left at the scene. the mask used in the 2011 killings. kirby lifted her shirt to show the scar that charlie walker gave her.

sam looked uncomfortable. she realised then that this was bigger than just a killing spree, they were trying to send a message.

kirby proposed you all worked together but sam interjected, not giving her the chance to finish.

"we're getting out of town." she pushed through kirby and detective bailey.

"i'm sorry, that's not possible. you're both persons of interest. all three of you are." bailey warned.

"are you serious?" tara stepped forward, the growing frustration evident in her voice.

"he's right." kirby confirmed. "but if we work together-"

"we're going." sam basically barked an order at you and tara.

"my car's back at your place." you said. sam nodded. a small part of her brain was happy that you would be around after that.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when the three of you made your way out of the precinct, you had never seen so many cameras before. reporters swarmed the three of you, immediately asking sam questions like if she had an alibi or if tara felt safe with her sister.

they didn't pay you any mind, how could they? you were fresh meat to the group, they didn't care about your story. luckily, it allowed you to mercilessly shove them back, helping make space for sam and tara to walk through the flood.

you found yourself holding onto sam's waist, pulling her towards the open spots you've created with your body pushing against the reporters.

"gale weathers." a voice sounded out in the crowd, causing the sisters to stop in their tracks. you knew that name too, it felt like an endless revision on who was who, if you had studied well enough. "do you ladies think that you're the reason that the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?" she asked.

you saw it in sam. she snapped. she'd had a long night, she nearly lost her life. she nearly lost her sister. and her... friend.

she swung with her fist out.

"sam!" you exclaimed as gale ducked, avoiding the punch. you pulled sam's waist back, you knew she didn't need another video of her going viral. she put her hands over yours, allowing you to hold her back. you had to admit, it felt nice knowing you had a bit of pull on her.

although, you failed to account for the shorter carpenter sister. you failed to catch her pulling her elbow back and swinging at gale with a force of her own.

you jumped at the noise made by the contact and had to hold back a laugh at gale's shocked face. sam cracked a smile, she couldn't help herself.

"stay away from us." tara spat at gale.

you two turned to walk towards a cab that was parked outside the station. you pushed sam slightly by her waist, hoping she wouldn't turn back around.

but gale weathers just had to say something.

"are you two seriously still mad about what happened?"

"you wrote a book. about them." she didn't expect you to say anything. she didn't know who you were or what you were to the carpenters. she looked at you as if you were irrelevant, like another body that ghostface could dispose of just to raise the numbers.

"and who are you?" she asked, a snark in her voice.

"doesn't matter. you took advantage of them. of the fact that they lost their friends, they nearly lost each other." you shook your head. "i remember you, from tara's stories."

tara watched you fight back. how could you still do that after she hurt you? you were full of surprises. she had never seen your tongue so laced with venom before.

"you lost someone too. dewey... if someone kept shoving that down your throat, how would you feel?" you asked, glaring her way as sam and tara entered the cab. gale's stance shifted, she was uncomfortable with a stranger knowing so much information about her personal life. but then again, she put the carpenter sisters' life out there for the whole world to see.

"i remember your book too. you called sam unstable, you painted her in the worst light possible. and i thought you had been through enough with her to know that that's not true." you turned back to the two girls, opening the door to the back of the cab for them.

sam's face was unreadable as she hopped into the car. she stared at the back of your head, or more like the back of your seat. you stood up for her, breaking your kind and golden-hearted demeanour. she was worried that being in this situation would change you for the worst.

you sat in silence after telling the driver where to go. leaning back into your seat, you tried to keep your eyes open. you hadn't gotten any sleep since last night, your time divided between the carpenter residence and the station.

there was so little to say and yet so many words were jumbled in your brain.

when you arrived at the carpenter's apartment, you yawned as you exited the cab. sam caught you do so and stopped you before you could unlock your car. her hand covered yours, gripping it in her own.

"you should rest here for a little bit. you're too tired to drive." she said, looking down at you. you wanted to get home and sleep in your own bed but you knew she was right.

you put your car keys away and walked upstairs with them.

tara immediately made a beeline for the bathroom. she always showered after coming home, she couldn't go a day without smelling like vanilla.

sam put pillows and blankets down on their couch and walked into her room, coming back out with some clothes.

"you can change into these for now, you might as well make yourself comfortable. and you can sleep for as long as you want." she said, you took the clothes and nodded at her.

she sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket up slightly to cover herself, you grabbed the blanket to stop her.

"what are you doing? i'll take the couch." you said, furrowing your brows.

"no. you'll take my bed." she looked up at you from the couch.

"it's your damn bed, sam." you didn't mean to sound so ill-mannered but the tiredness was getting the best of you.

"i know. so i'll do with it as i please." you know it was just her trying to show that she cared. "so you're taking it."

you sighed sharply, you were about to take a massive risk.

"share it with me." you said, holding your ground. you didn't want to kick sam out of her own bed.

she saw the determination on your face. you two were going to sit here and bicker if she didn't give in now. she nodded, standing up and making her way back to her room.

you changed into sam's clothes, her scent wafting as the shirt fell over your figure. then you cracked the door open enough to slip yourself into her room.

just as you entered sam's room, tara came out of the bathroom. she had the look of a shattered woman on her face, you should have been going into her room. she should have offered first.

you shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed where sam was sitting. you spotted her nursing her hand, spotting a deep cut from crawling on glass at the bodega.

"sam, you should've gotten that taken care of." you scolded her a little, walking to her bathroom and grabbing a medkit you knew was there. tara had told you that she put one in every bathroom.

you knelt in front of sam, unpacking the kit to grab the antiseptic and a bandage.

"it's fine, it's only a cut." she protested.

"if ghostface doesn't get you, an infected cut will. and i think that's extremely embarrassing." you tried to make light of it, your exhaustion washing over you. "this'll hurt."

you dabbed the antiseptic into sam's cut. she hissed at the sting. but the sight in front of her was better. you, in her clothes, patching her up. this was probably the worst time for her to form a crush, and probably the worst person to form it on. her sister's ex-girlfriend, who was now involved in the ghostface killings. but your soft features, your concern for her, it was hard to resist you.

she chalked it up to exhaustion, maybe this crush would fade away when she was in her right mind.

but when you situated yourself next to her in bed, your respectful nature forcing you to leave ample space so you two weren't touching each other, she hoped that she would one day earn the honour of closing that gap.

as she closed her eyes, she listened in to your soft breathing. and even when you accidentally ended up shoulder to shoulder in bed,

sam refused to move.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okay i actually spent way too much time on this chapter, i had to write out the first 30 minutes of scream vi with a reader insert so it was a little bit more cohesive with the storyline. i don't know how i feel about this one chapter in particular but i'm starting to see the vision for the rest of the series teehee. i promise it wont just be the whole movie written down but it'll definitely have canon events. next chapter is most likely going to be non-canon as much as possible just cause this is a romance fic at the end of the day.

also this is the song i intended for the reader to be listening to with sam

[daenysx]

a few days ago a prompt popped into my mind and i couldn't stop thinking about it: (gn) reader and sirius annoying remus SO MUCH that he's almost in physical pain because he realized he still loves pretty much those two fucking idiots

i hope you enjoy <333

poly!wolfstar x gn!reader

"for god's sake-" remus opens the other window. "would you please open the windows when you smoke inside? it ruins the entire clean air we have."

"well, i don't see the exact problem here, beloved moony." sirius gives a sound kiss on his boyfriend's cheek as an unsuccessful attempt to calm him. "you also smoke, familiar with the smell i'd say."

"yeah, but i do that outside or with the windows open." remus says.

"come here, give me a kiss."

"sirius-"

"you need it more than i do, you've been yelling since the moment you woke up."

the kiss is nice. sirius rubs his hand on remus's waist, the boy has to lean into him. their eyes stay closed, remus pulls his hair only slightly to give him a type of punisment maybe but he gets a moan instead. "the bed-"

"okay, now i'm jealous."

the boys turn their heads to the sound and here you are with another cup of coffee in your hands. "you could at least invite me." you say with a smile.

"i was just trying to distract moons, he's too busy with his nerves today." sirius says. "you're more than welcome to join us in the bed, though."

he has this smirk on his face that usually makes your legs shake with want but this time you have no time. you have an assignment you need to finish in two days and you couldn't get enough sleep. coffee is the only solution.

"another one?" remus shows the cup you hold. "are you trying to have a heart attack?"

"you drink coffee a lot, i don't see the issue here."

"yes, but it's not like i'm using coffee to survive like you do." remus says, his voice is not at all stern just considerate.

"it's fine." you come next to him with a smile. "it's not even my fourth cup, handsome. don't worry."

"oh my god." remus looks at you with huge eyes. "fourth? you're so-"

you hand your cup to sirius and hold your boyfriend's cheeks instead. remus's lips curl with the gentle pressure of your hands. you pull him to yourself to give him a kiss. he accepts it, tasting the coffee on your lips.

"what is it with you two- thinking kissing me would make me shut up about-"

you kiss him again. sirius smirks. remus thinks he's got not one but two of the same type of lovers who got him addicted to getting kisses. he doesn't have any option other than parting his lips.

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

Old man logan crushing on you, 19 yo working in a sandwich shop

note: i'm very self indulgent and delusional was gonna watch logan but saw inside out 2 was on disney + ahhhh 18+ i want old logan soo bad i'm writing more i think i just have toooooooo urgh

You were way too young for Logan, but you were all over him. From the moment you met him at your job, he had been captured by your beauty. You wore a hat that you thought hundred percent made you look ugly. Your hair sitting to your forehead because the sweat the fans and the hat made. You tried to wear makeup but again, you were sweating so it was smeared or sweat off. But the smile on your face, the way you lit up when he walked into the restaurant. Then he approached you, his eyes scanning your face before going to your chest. You grew incredibly shy under his gaze, before squeaking, "H-how are you?"

"I'm doing good." He croaked as your eyes went to the cigar in the pocket of his suit. Your eyes going to the front window, looking out at the limo.

"Is that yours?" You jutted your chin towards the window.

"Yep, uh could I get a number 12, add ham." You breathed out shakily, feeling bad that he just wanted to order.

"Of course." You hummed, tapping the screen.

"A drink and chips too."

"I can recommend the pumpkin cookie."

"Sure, one of those." He smiled over at you, pointing at cookie, his green hazel eyes meeting yours as you hummed nodding your head. You didn't know his name, but he was extremely handsome, even at his age. You couldn't really guess but he was strong and tall, making you breathe a little harder. You decided to not charge him for the sides.

"Are you a member?"

"Nope."

"How do I join?" Logan inquired.

"Think downloading the app for the store." You explained, nodding your head. "Total is 9.44."

"That's cheap."

"It's pretty slow today so didn't charge for the extra stuff." You smiled, batting your eyes as you bit lightly on your bottom lip anxiously. Logan looked behind you to see no one working.

"Jus you?" he asked.

"She's taking a smoke break." You replied, before taking the receipt and putting on the table. "I'll get started on it." You put on gloves before making his sandwich, taking your time so you didn't mess up. He grabbed a cup before walking over to the pop machine and getting ice. You finished his sandwich wrapping it up before standing in front of him as he put a lid on cup. "Would you like a bag?"

"I'll eat here." Logan huffed.

"Okay." You said, setting the sandwich down on the ledge for him.

"Thank you, darling." He grinned, light dimples on his cheeks, you liked his beard, something you thought you didn't like in men. But on this guy? You wanted to rub your fingers through it, feel it on your skin. "Here's my card." Logan started, handing you a small business card.

"Oh you're a limo chauffeur guy." You said, nodding your head, before glancing over at him, meeting his eyes. "Logan." His hand came to scratch as beard before nodded, scanning you as you turned around. Knowing that you were your super comfy gray leggings that hugged your curves and ass perfectly. You were also wearing a thong, so you leant over to the counter to relax and get on your phone. He huffed, as he grabbed his things before walking to the front of the store to sit down.

Logan started showing up more often, only on the days you worked conveniently. Your co-worker didn't really believe you when you said you liked older men. But you started growing more comfortable with Logan, even giving him free meals. He said he was tallying up the rides he owed you. You would roll your eyes, giggling as you held on to the screen, blushing. Your co-worker teased you relentlessly as you wanted to make the sandwich for him. Before going over later to offer him a cookie and to refill his drink. You wore the same leggings hoping he was going to be here. Logan's eyes going to your ass.

A couple nights later you got very very high. You wanted to go out and get snacks and McDonalds. As a joke you called Logan, thinking he wouldn't seriously come over to pick you up. But he did, you decided you wanted to sit in front with him. He came in with you to the gas station when he saw how giggly you were. Making sure you got through the store without falling over or buying too much food. Even though Logan decided he would pay for it, you had haven't noticed as you sipped your pop, humming at the bubbles in your mouth.

You grabbed your things, as Logan led you back out to the limo. He opened the passenger door for you, sliding inside and setting down your things, before crawling through to the other side to peak out and see Logan. "Didn't think this is what you'd use this for." Logan laughed, smiling over at you. He felt a fondness in his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time, pure adoration for another person. Because tonight you looked different, your hair was down, it was wavy and smelt good. You wore a short little skirt and a baggy sweatshirt. Your face looked incredibly soft, even though your eyes were glazed over and red, you looked beautiful.

"I'm full of surprises." You joked, leaning against the side of the door. Logan comes over to you in a bold move, as he stands in front of you. You breathed out shakily as you came face to face with his crotch. He moved back, giving you an opportunity to pull away but you didn't. You licked your lips while looking up at him these soft doe eyes. So he stepped back, his back tilting backwards just slightly so he could look down at you. His hand coming up to your mouth, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip. "Your beautiful." You breathed out shakily, his deep voice getting to you as the gas pumped stopped. Logan backed away, going over pull out the gas pump and putting back into the tank.

You got back over to your side of the car, and made him drive to the nearest McDonalds, he didn't mind. Getting himself a burger and whatever you wanted. Again, paying for the meal, this time you saw and awwed at him before complaining about wanting to pay. Logan grinned over at you, handing you the food before driving off.

"Where to next?"

"Know any lookouts?"

"Sure." Logan breathed, as he drove you out about 15 minutes away to look at a lake. You knew this wasn't the safest thing, but you gave your cousin your location and he had come into the restaurant enough times. When you got to the look out the two of you ate food, as you spoke about the book you were writing. He listened intently to you before you put all the food away, saving your snacks for later. You rolled down the windows to feel the night air.

"Got any blankets?"

"Yeah, in the back." Logan hummed, opening his door and walking back to the trunk. You felt your heart begin to race as you started getting the courage to try and seduce him. You were only 19 years old and from what you could tell he was in his late 50s. But you really couldn't, you opened your door wondering over to front before bending over to pick up a rock on the ground. Logan sighed over at you, easily trusting a stranger, naively bending over to show off the bottom of your ass. He came over to the front of the car as you stood up turning around at the sound of his foot steps. You grinned over at him.

"Can we sit out here?"

"Sure darling." Logan nodded, you visibly blushed at the nickname, nodding your head to the side as your thumb picked at the corner of your nails. He laid down one blanket on the hood before handing you one. You wrapped the blanket around yourself before climbing on to the hood, Logan joining you and the hood dipping. You giggled lightly at the groan of the metal.

"You don't look like you weigh that much." You noted.

"You have no idea." Logan huffed out laughter, as he glanced over at you. You scooted forward your knee nudging his thigh, your hand coming to the atop where his calve and his thigh meet.

"I'd like to know."

"Know what?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow and making butterflies spark in your stomach as your hand came to rest at his hard stomach. The muscles defined even under the button up, his eyes were on you, his breath coming shallow.

"What it feels like to ya know."

"No I don't." He spoke, bluntly, making you flush wildly.

"How it feels to have you atop of me, feel your weight." You admitted, your hand coming up as you laughed uncomfortably. Logan moved forward his hand coming to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"You sure you want this baby?"

"Fuck yes." You breathed, your eyes pleading as your hand trailed south. Logan's hand came over yours as you toyed with the hem of his pants, his lips connecting with yours in a soft kiss as he led your hand over his crotch. You moaned sweetly into his mouth as you felt his hard shaft in your hand. You moved forward on your knees, trying to brace yourself on his shoulders. Logan's arms came around your thighs, pulling you ontop of him and holding your breast right under his chin as he dipped his head up to kiss you.

One of your hands came to his sandy brown hair, threading through the strands and pulling, while your other hand felt his beard. Your tongue dove into his mouth, and his tongue fought for dominance. His strong musky scent filling your mouth, making your hips ground down in the air. Logan gripped your thighs, tugging your pantie clad core against his suit bulge. You moaned into his mouth, tugging him closer as you rolled your hips against him. Only following your instincts, as your lips moved to the side of his neck. Moving your lips against his skin, while your hands dipped under his suit jacket.

Your hands go to his button up, starting to undo the buttons. As his cold large hands went under your sweatshirt, pressing against your love handles. You breathed out shakily, a shiver running up your spine as you met him a breathless open mouth kiss, before he slid his tongue past your wide mouth. You started warming him up as he moved his hands up and down your back, pulling you in closer to him, as the two of you messily made out with each other.

Then your hand came back down to his crotch, "Want you to fuck me." You pleaded, gazing up into his eyes as you started undoing the zipper on his pants. Logan shoved at your hands with a devilish smirk on his face, as he pushed you back on his thighs. His fingers came up to your mouth, the tips of his digits coming in contact with your tongue as you started to suck. He grunted as he pulled them away moving them down to between your legs. Shoving your panties to the side to mess with your wet clit. You moaned bucking your hips as you felt the wetness come out of you. Logan shoved one finger inside of you, feeling resistance.

"So fucking tight, are you a virgin?"

"Uh-huh." You nodded, starting to buck your hips against his fingers. Logan growled, burying his face into your neck, as he inhaled while starting to pump his fingers in and out of your pussy. You ground your hand against him before reaching down to apply pressure to your clit. Logan smacked away your hand, spitting down on your clit and rubbing it in tight circles as you let out a moan into the night. He made you shatter all over his fingers, his lips meshing with yours before his slid his fingers out. Getting ready to fuck you with his big cock.

"Don't think an old man like me deserves you. So fucking beautiful." Logan gritted, as his hands moved your sweatshirt off, you wore no bra underneath. Though your ample breasts held themselves, as his hands cupped them. His thumb rubbing over your nipple as he kissed at your chest.

"I want you so bad, Lo, since the moment i met you." You mewled, melting into his skin and rutting against him. He flipped your skirt up, as his hands went to spread your cheeks, before pulling you to his crotch and grinding into you. His hands finally came down to take his cock out of his briefs, his shaft hard, lengthy, hot against his hand. You move down to rub your wetness against him before his lips collided with yours. "Make me yours."

Logan brought his cock to your clit, rubbing his precome against you before sliding into your pussy. You moaned aloud, your head tipping back, before wincing. The further he went the more it hurt, as you tried to relax. But you sank down on his large cock, as your hand grasped at the back of his neck. Logan's hands coming to your waist to rock you against him. You leant your head against his shoulder as you started to pant. When the pain went away you braced your hands on his shoulders before starting to lift your hips up and then back down. Logan guided you in your movements as he started thrusting up into you.

"God-fuck." You moaned, closing your eyes as your breasts met his mouth as he sighed against you. Your slick collected at the base of his cock, the view above him was the best thing he'd ever seen. Your head thrown back, as you rode him, chasing your pleasure, using his body to orgasm. His hand came down to your clit as he bucked into you roughly. You tugged on his hair, as he grunted roughly into your mouth. "Right there, Lo, yes." You panted, rutting your hips and the fizzing in your stomach exploding as you came over his cock. Logan pulled you off roughly before turning you around on your stomach.

His hips roughly pushed into yours, as he flipped the skirt up, before snapping your thong against your skin. "So fucking sexy, for me pretty girl. Dreamt about touching you like this."

"Yeah show me, bub." You teased, shimming your ass in the air. Logan's hand coming down in a loud clap from his strong hand as you arched your back. Then you heard the tear of your thong before Logan roughly stuffed your cunt with his aching dick. He used your hips as leverage as he fucked into you like an animal. His hand coming right back on to your clit, pulling you tightly to his chest.

"Give me another." Logan pleaded, as he moved his hips under yours more to give you the angle you liked. The high-pitched moan of his name drove him insane, his cock pulsing inside of you. Your velvety walls sucked him in as you came again, your toes curling and your back arching. Your head nearly knocking into his as you shook in his arms. Logan pulled out of you after you rode out your high, sighing as you leant against the car. He readjusted you, scooping you in his arms, as he stepped out of his pants. Setting you in the back of the car throwing the other things to the side before climbing over you on the floor of the backseat. You laid against the carpet, utterly fucked out as you sighed. Though your cunt ached for more, you were a virgin in the sense that you hadn't been with anyone. Not that you weren't experience, a frequent shopper at the local sex toy store. You were introduced to vibrators, dildos, and other things you could've never thought of.

You were sensitive, but you moved your head back to watch as Logan stripped off his clothes, completely naked in front of you before locking the doors and moving over to pull off your skirt. You laid completely bare, sweat licked over your skin and a flush all over, your pussy swollen and wet. Logan's hand came to his cock, moving up and down the length. "Don't think all men are like you."

"Sure as hell hope not baby." Logan gruffed, his hands coming to your knees, and dragging you towards you. You smiled up at him, as you breathed out shakily, nervous as your full body was on display for him. You'd always been slightly self-conscious about your body, trying to confident in what you wore and who you were. But it was hard when you grew up to hate your body for the longest time. His hands moved over your rolls, gripping the skin as he groaned lightly. Your hand came over to his cock as he felt you, spitting down on the tip before massaging the slick over his shaft.

"This right?" You asked, as he hummed, his hand coming over yours to help you move your hand over his throbbing dick. "Haven't come yet."

"Yeah baby, I know, trying to last for you." Logan hummed, leaning in to softly connect your lips before lightly pushing you on to your back. You huffed out, as you spread your legs for him, he moved your legs towards your chest. His cock slipping back into you at the angle, the intrusion making your eyebrows furrow together as he filled you. It didn't matter how long or how often he'd fuck you, every time he'd feel like this. Like he was new, your walls memorizing the imprint of his cock. You stared up into his eyes as he started hammering into you, making you whine as your head shot back. Logan hid his head in your neck, your legs falling to his waist while his hands came to yours. Slipping through as you moved your body against his, as the dirtiest moans fell from your lips. "So fucking dirty, gonna give you everything."

"Want it all, all of you forever." You mumbled, as you gripped on to his forearm, before moving to his strong bicep.

"Yeah baby, promise." Logan whispered, his voice rumbling through you.

"Yeah, keep talking." You squeaked, as his hand back over to your clit, slamming into you with harsh thrusts as his own orgasm started welling up in his stomach. Logan was relentless as your final orgasm started as you jerked against him. When you clamped down on him this time, he could pull out in time as he rammed into you before filling your pussy with his semen. You moaned at the feeling before throwing your head back against the carpet. He slowed his thrusts before pulling out of you.

"Come stay with me?" Logan asked, as he moved to lay next to you, his hand coming to your hair. You breathed out shakily, as your eyes traced over his strong features, the wrinkles on his face, the green in his hazel eyes. "Unless you just wanted tonight-

"No-no, wanna stay with you please." You nodded, moving in closer to him, your hand coming to his stomach, running over his abs before coming to the tip of his waist. His torso was sickeningly gorgeous, covered in sweat and dark hair. Logan's lips landed on yours as your eyes traced his skin, you relaxed in his grasp as moved your lips with his. "Just thinking how lucky i am ya know?"

"No sweetheart, I don't." Logan laughed, shaking his head as he glanced down at you. You haven't ever seen him laugh like that, the feeling getting to your heart. "Jus' an old grumpy man, your beautiful young women."

"Not everyone thinks that." You murmured, looking away. You couldn't believe you were acting insecure while laying naked in his arms. Your hands coming up to your chest. Logan leant forward to grab a blanket, making sure you were comfortable as he wrapped it around you.

"I do, and whichever fucker told you otherwise is wrong." Logan gruffed, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "Always gonna put your first, alright? Show you that you deserve love? Even it's from me."

"Especially if it's from you." You sighed, as you opened the blanket to put it around Logan's body, his arms tugging you to his chest.

tags:@jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1