#every time i go to do something i get part way through

[girlygguk]

crazy; jjk (m)

summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst

genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship

word count 15.5k

content jk 29 | yn 26, very jealous controlling and possessive jk, same for oc, spirited & bratty oc, jk is rich and spoils his girl, pet names, toxic relo, jk is a red flag, oc is a red flag, they’re obsessed w each other, bonnie n clyde ride or die type shit, soft yandere, drama, mc arguments, cursing, they get angry quick and over it quicker, bar fighting, jk punches a guy.. or two, blood, oc is roughly grabbed on arm by a male w/o consent, canon couple

warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system, daddy kink, consensual degradation, fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), cum eating, dirty talk, breeding kink, condomless p in v sex, oc has an IUD, multiple orgasms, creampie, kinda rough(?) sex but i think it ends quite softly, theyre dirty and in love!

a/n pls read all the warnings first & only proceed if ur comfortable!! these two are superr obsessively dependent and possessive so tread lightly baby 🙂‍↕️!! im kinda self conscious abt the smut but i like the fic part and i hope u do too <<3 lemme know if i missed any tags 🖤 mwah

There was something dangerous about him. Something you couldn’t help but be drawn to, no matter how much you knew you shouldn’t. It was like playing with fire—intoxicating, thrilling… stupid.

You knew it complicated things, maybe even made life harder, but you never had been one to back down from a challenge. And when someone like Jeon Jungkook—the kind of man who looked like pure trouble but made you feel more alive than you ever had—walked into your life, resisting him was never even an option.

It hadn’t always been like this. You used to date Park Hyungwon, after all.

Hyungwon was perfectly fine. Kind, sweet, thoughtful in all the ways that made him a good guy. The type who held open doors and asked if you wanted to split dessert. You’d met him through his cousin, Jimin—your colleague and an absolute angel on Earth. In fact, you ended up closer to Jimin than you ever were with Hyungwon.

Because Hyungwon? He was just… ordinary.

There was nothing wrong with ordinary. Some people needed that. They craved stability, predictability. But you? You realized a long time ago that you needed more. You craved intensity. You needed to feel like someone’s whole world. And when your boyfriend didn’t care who you were with, what you were doing, when he didn’t even notice if you went days without texting… well, you started to feel invisible.

You knew it sounded twisted. That most people would see Hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. Healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. But that’s when you realized... you weren’t like most people.

And then he entered the picture.

Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Corp, son of the late Jeon Jun-seo.

You’d been at Jeon Corp for three years now, starting as a temp and moving into a more permanent role. Everyone knew him—the young, ruthless leader who took over seamlessly and ran things with an iron grip after his father's passing. People admired him, respected him. Feared him.

It had been two years since you made it official with the man you knew was the epic love of your life. Before that, you were friends with benefits for—what, a week? Maybe less. You both knew right from the start that there was no going back to being just colleagues or fuck-buddies. He consumed you, and you reveled in every second of it.

In the early days of your relationship, you couldn’t help but worry. Maybe your promotion had less to do with your work ethic and more to do with Jungkook lusting for you. It was hard not to question it, especially when he was your boss, and you knew exactly how intense his desire for you was. But Jungkook shut that shit down fast.

He had hundreds of employees under him, most of whom he hadn’t even had a proper conversation with. He’d approached you solely because of your performance—your results catching his attention long before he even knew what you looked like. Jimin had confirmed it.

Still, you loved teasing him about it—how he’d basically been eye-fucking you the entire time during your first real meeting. Jungkook never denied it. He would just give you that cheeky, devilish grin of his, reminding you just how that meeting had concluded—with you, bent right over his desk.

Now, sitting at Lumi’s bar with the soft murmur of conversations and the clink of glasses fading into background noise, your phone buzzed with a new message. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, heat spreading through your veins as you read his words.

My Love 10:43 PM Why is your location off? Sent with Siri

10:43 PM Turn it on. Now. Sent with Siri

You bit your lip, already imagining the storm brewing inside him. He was driving, and now probably wasn’t the best time to mess with him. But you were still pissed. And the brat in you couldn’t resist poking him just a little more.

You 10:47 PM i'm out, my love.

His reply was immediate, almost before you even hit send.

My Love 10:47 PM Not in the mood baby. Turn it on

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as you took another sip of your drink. You could picture him now, pulling the car over, typing furiously with that adorable, frustrated frown. Oh, he was pissed—but that only made it more fun. You let him stew for a few minutes longer.

You 10:52 PM bad day at work? :(

His next texts came in a flurry, and you could almost feel the heat in them.

My Love 10:52 PM Why the fuck are you taking so long to respond? Who are you with?

10:53 PM You didnt tell me you were going out tonight and I just went all the way to your fucking house to find out you’re not even there? And your car’s gone? You drove to go out??? Are you fucking crazy?

His jealousy stoked a fire inside you. You knew better than to test his patience... but you just couldn’t help yourself.

You pulled up your camera and hit record. It started with your legs—crossed elegantly on the stool, the hem of your little black dress riding up just enough to tease. You let your foot swing, the glossy polish on your toes catching the dim light. The clip was short, but you knew Jungkook would recognize the bar in an instant.

Then, you flipped the camera. Your face came into view, framed by a pout and the neckline of your dress—the replacement for the one he’d ripped clean off you the last time some idiot tried to touch you. Jungkook had beaten the guy to a pulp, of course, which was why you were both banned from JaeJae's nightclub downtown. But you hadn’t cared then, and you certainly didn’t now.

Just before you stopped recording, you made sure the camera caught a glimpse of the arm next to you—the arm belonging to the guy who had been sulking since you brushed off his lame advances. You had been ignoring him ever since you walked in, but apparently, he was as clueless as he was underwhelming.

You hadn’t expected to be at this bar alone. In fact, you were supposed to be home with Jungkook tonight. He’d promised an early finish—four o’clock, to be exact—and you’d planned a cute pamper night for the two of you. Face masks, cheesy rom-coms. You even baked cookies.

But then, three o’clock rolled around, and your phone rang. His voice on the other end was apologetic, practically rehearsed at this point. He had to stay late. Again. Not even just a little late—ten-fucking-thirty late. Two hours past his usual finishing time.

You were livid. He promised you tonight.

You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence before hanging up, ignoring the rapid flood of missed calls and texts as you angrily dumped the chocolate chip cookies in the trash.

You were so pissed you might’ve even made his assistant, Hoseok, cry when Jungkook sent him over to check on you. Poor guy. You’d apologize later. Maybe.

By the time 10:32 hit and your phone was still silent, that pit of anger in your stomach twisted into something much sharper. You pulled up the security cameras at his office—and, of course, the room was empty. His briefcase, his keys… all gone.

He had left work without even telling you.

He always texted you when he was leaving the office. You knew there wasn’t a chance in hell it was infidelity; that wasn’t even a possibility. Cheating wasn’t something either of you entertained. But the silence? The lack of communication? That cut.

Sure, you’d been ignoring his calls ever since he canceled on you… but you were allowed to be pissed right now. He? Was not.

When your doorbell camera alert went off at 10:42, right before you were about to check his location, you felt a mix of relief and annoyance rise in your chest. You pulled up the feed to see him standing there—frustrated, fist clenched around his phone, clearly ready for a confrontation.

But you weren’t home.

You were here, at this grimy, sticky bar. Waiting.

The guy next to you shifted in his seat again, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was still there, lingering, despite your obvious disinterest. But honestly, you were kind of glad he hadn’t left.

Because the response you got from Jungkook when you hit send on that video?

Absolutely fucking perfect.

My Love 10:55 PM I'll be there in five minutes.

10:56 PM And if there is anyone sitting next to you who doesn't have a cunt or the name Park Jimin, theyre fucking dead Y/N

10:56 PM And you’re fucking walking home

You suppressed a laugh as you wiped the sugary remnants of your drink from your lips, knowing better than anyone just how serious he was.

As much as you hated to admit it, you loved the way Jungkook loved you. His possessiveness didn’t bother you. In fact, it drove you wild. That definitely made you as much of a red flag as him. But did you care?

A few minutes passed as you took some selfies and uploaded them to your Instagram story, twirling the straw in your glass absentmindedly. Then you remembered the idiot next to you.

"Oh," you said, clearing your throat. He perked up immediately, pulling his beer away from his lips as he turned toward you, eyes lighting up in anticipation. Gross. "You might want to leave."

His smile faltered, confusion knitting his brow. "What?"

You blinked, tilting your head slightly as if he hadn’t just heard you. Leaning in closer, you repeated yourself. "I said, you might want to leave."

He chuckled, leaning in way too close, his breath hot and stale. “Why would I do that? Sitting next to a pretty thing like you? You look a little bored, baby… I can keep you entertained.”

You suppressed a gag. "Hard pass." You shuddered, pulling back. “But really, my boyfriend’s on his way, and he’s pissed. You might want to move down a seat or two.”

He just laughed, lifting his beer again and taking a long gulp, his eyes creepily never leaving yours. "I can handle myself just fine, sweetheart. It’s hot that you’re worried about me, though."

God. You’d never been drier in your entire life.

"Your funeral," you muttered, rolling your eyes as you turned back to your phone.

A few more minutes passed in silence, and just when you thought the idiot might’ve finally left you alone, you felt him shift again, turning toward you like he was about to start up another conversation. You sighed, not actually wanting to watch another guy get the shit beaten out of him. So, you grabbed your purse and your half-empty glass, ready to leave.

But just as you slid off the stool, his hand wrapped around your arm.

"Where are you going, baby?” His voice dripped with sleaze. “This playing hard-to-get thing was sexy at first, but now it’s getting kinda boring.”

Your stomach turned, and you yanked your arm from his grip, disgust curling your lip. "Eugh, could you be any more of a stereotypical douche? Get a fucking life."

You took a step to leave, but his hand clamped down on your arm again, harder this time.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, huh?” His voice dropped, and a sickening grin spread across his face as his fingers dug deeper into your skin. “That’s okay. I like ’em that way.”

Rage flared in your chest, hot and immediate. Without thinking, your hand swung forward, and the rest of your drink splashed across his smug face. His eyes widened in shock, the liquid dripping off his chin, but you weren’t finished.

Your free hand darted into the outer pocket of your purse, fingers wrapping around the pink pepper spray canister Jungkook bought for you. You whipped it out, aiming the nozzle directly at his face and pressed down hard.

“Fuck!” he screamed, stumbling back, hands flying to his eyes. But you didn’t let up. The adrenaline thrummed in your veins as you kept spraying, ignoring the yelps and curses spilling from his lips as he clawed at his burning face.

“You crazy fucking bitch! Stop!”

“God, you piece of shit!” you yelled, uncaring of the stares now fixed on you. “Don’t ever touch anyone when they don’t want you to! Fucking pig!”

The can felt significantly lighter by the time you finally stopped, and the guy was practically on his knees, whimpering. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the bartender waving security in your direction and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Typical. He’d been close enough to hear everything, but now he wanted to intervene?

“Cunt,” you muttered under your breath, slamming your empty glass on the bar before turning to leave.

“I’m going, I’m going,” you scoffed as the guard approached, adjusting your purse on your shoulder and smoothing down the hem of your dress. As you turned to walk away, you pulled out your phone, thumb hovering over Jungkook’s contact.

But before you could make it far, a heavy hand pressed into your back, shoving you toward the exit.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you snapped, stumbling as the security guard forced you forward. “I said I’m leaving. I’m just calling my boyfriend. Let go of me, freak—”

“Ma’am, don’t speak to me like that,” the guard growled, his voice deep and commanding. “Get outside, now.”

“I'm going, you big loof. Can you at least let me wait in the bathroom? If my boyfriend sees me standing outside alone, he’s gonna—”

"I don’t care what he’s gonna do to you, ma’am. Keep moving."

You almost laughed. "Do to me?" You were about to tell him how wrong he had it—that he should be the one worried—when suddenly, the hand on your back vanished. You stopped, brushing yourself off, ready to turn and gloat.

But it wasn’t your words that made him let go. It was Jungkook.

Your very angry boyfriend had shoved the guard—who was easily twice his size—backwards so hard the guy stumbled, nearly falling over.

Jungkook’s eyes were wild, flicking between you and the security guard, a dangerous mix of concern and pure rage.

"Oh, hi, baby—"

“Get in the car,” he growled, his voice low and deadly as he handed you his keys. “And lock the fucking doors. Now.”

His tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you bit back the urge to argue. Instead, you took the keys and turned toward the door, but the security guard wasn’t backing down.

"You and your bitch need to leave now," the guard snapped. "You’re banned from this bar."

Another one? You almost pouted, but he kept going.

"We have you on CCTV. If the victim presses charges, you’ll be contacted."

“What victim?” You laughed, taking a step toward the guy. “You’re gonna let that pig press charges?”

Jungkook’s head snapped toward you, jaw clenched, staying firmly between you and the goon. “What is he talking about? Who’s pressing charges?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you gestured toward the guy still rubbing his eyes with a bar towel, water dripping down his face. “That idiot. But it’s fine, baby. I finally got to use the pepper spray you gave me,” you added, poking Jungkook’s stomach with a giddy smile.

His lips twitched, but his expression stayed serious. “Why’d you have to use it?”

You shrugged, tilting your head, giving him that innocent look you knew drove him crazy. "He kept trying to touch me, but don’t worry, I handled it. Let’s go now, please."

But Jungkook’s gaze was already darkening, his eyes now fixed on the pathetic excuse of a man across the room. You could see the anger rising, feel the tension radiating off him, and you knew he was seconds away from losing his shit.

“Let’s just go, love,” you urged, voice rushing as you eyed the situation. “It’s over now.”

The security guard had disappeared to fetch backup, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. The fact that he needed help dealing with Jungkook was almost laughable. Your man might not have been the biggest guy in the room, but you knew that shove must have rattled him, seeing as though the sidekick he'd now acquired was even bigger than he was.

And they were both stomping toward you.

You turned to warn Jungkook, “Baby—” but as your eyes shifted back to him, he was no longer at your side.

Your gaze snapped to the bar. There he was—storming up to the sleazebag still nursing his wet eyes with a towel, completely unaware that your furious boyfriend was closing in behind him. Ugh, he was like an angry, sexy bunny.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, pushing past a couple of people and hurrying over as quick as you could in your three-thousand-dollar stilettos.

As turned on as you were by the sight of him right now, you really didn’t need him missing work tomorrow because he'd been locked up for the night.

And then you, of course, also missing work because you had to sleep in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to his cell, since the officers wouldn’t accept bail again until he had completed his twelve-hour minimum hold.

You were almost there when you saw it—Jungkook’s hand gripping the back of the guy’s collar, yanking him back with so much force that the idiot’s eyes flew open in shock, panic flooding his face as he realized what was happening.

You bit your lip, trying to shove away the image that popped into your head of Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair, pulling you up in that exact same way when he had you beneath him, forcing your eyes on his as he drove into you from behind.

God, not now, Y/N.

“Koo, baby, wait—” you called, but it was too late. He was gone.

Before the guy could even think about pushing Jungkook off, your boyfriend slammed his head down onto the bar with a sickening crack that echoed through the room. You winced, feeling the pain in your own skull just by watching it.

“Fuckkkk,” you hissed, finally reaching him and grabbing his arm. His muscles were rigid, vibrating with barely controlled rage. “Baby, come on. Security is coming—let’s go—”

But your words didn’t register. Jungkook was in another world, eyes burning with an almost feral intensity as he jerked the guy back up.

Without hesitation, he reeled back and delivered a brutal punch to the guy’s face, the thud of knuckles against bone filled the space as the man’s head snapped to the side, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor in a heap.

You sucked your teeth in frustration. You couldn’t care less if the guy sat there on the ground and bled out, truly. What you did care about was the thought of Jimin covering your shift tomorrow because you had to spend the night bailing Jungkook out of jail again.

“Okay, my love, that’s good. Now let’s go—”

“Baby, go and—” Jungkook growled, his voice dangerous and low, as he lifted the guy again. His fist swung forward, colliding with the man’s nose, and you winced at the sharp crunch that followed. The guy collapsed again, shaky hands cradling his face as blood spurted from his mouth.

Jungkook’s head whipped around, his dark gaze locking onto you with a ferocity that sent a chill down your spine. “Go and get in the fucking car,” he snapped.

“No, you fucking idiot, come with me—”

Before you could finish your sentence, your feet were suddenly off the ground, the world spinning as you were slung over a massive shoulder. It took you a second to process what the fuck was happening.

"What the fuck!" you screamed, pounding your fists against the back of the goliath security guard who was carrying you like a sack of potatoes. Your purse fell to the ground as the guy just kept walking toward the exit like you were nothing. "Put me down, you fucking freak!"

Through your distorted, lopsided vision, you caught sight of the other, even bigger, guard heading for Jungkook while you were being dragged away.

The second your boyfriend saw what was happening to you, the loser he had been beating on was forgotten. His eyes locked on the guard manhandling you, and fury ignited in his expression.

The guard approaching barely had time to take a step before Jungkook threw him to the ground like he weighed nothing. His unbuttoned dress shirt sleeves exposed the veins in his arms, rippling as he stormed toward you with a look that promised murder. Yummy.

You were still smacking the back of the giant guard carrying you, panic creeping in as the door got closer and closer. "Baby, my purse!" you whined, halting your attack for a second and pointing to the ground. Jungkook was already stalking past it. "Pick it up!"

He grunted in frustration, turning on his heel to grab the fallen Prada before charging back after you. 

The guard reached the door just as Jungkook caught up, and you braced yourself for the moment you’d be tossed out like trash. But in one quick motion, Jungkook grabbed your outstretched hand and used his other hand to grab you by the bum, pulling you off the guard’s shoulder.

You beamed as he set you back on your feet, happily taking your purse from him while he just rolled his eyes. Then, he turned and sent his fist straight to the giant’s jaw. The guard actually stumbled backward, clearly feeling the weight of the hit, and for a brief moment, you thought it was over.

But then the bastard straightened up, cracked his neck like a fucking terminator, and stepped forward again, completely unfazed.

"What. The. Fuck," you seethed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You grabbed Jungkook’s hand, tugging him back, but he was already mirroring the guard’s steps, ready to go again.

"Nope," you muttered, wrapping your arms around his bicep and using every ounce of strength to drag him toward the door.

You knew he could easily overpower you, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he debated it. But after a beat, he scoffed, shooting a final glare at the guard, who had stopped in place, phone in hand as he watched you haul Jungkook outside.

Probably calling the cops, taking down your registration—whatever the fuck. You could already imagine the panic on Jeon Co.’s PR team’s faces when they caught wind of this fuck fest of a night.

You finally let go of Jungkook’s arm when you got outside, your hand diving into your purse for his car keys. He followed close behind, silent but simmering with rage, as you both made your way to his car. It was parked right next to the entrance—definitely not in an actual spot—but he clearly didn’t care. He’d probably left it there to get to you faster.

As soon as the cold air hit your face and you and Jungkook were away from everyone, it’s like all your anger from earlier flooded right back.

You marched straight toward the driver’s seat, just wanting to get the hell out of there, but before you could reach for the door handle, Jungkook’s bruised hand snaked around your waist and pulled you back against him. He plucked the keys from your hand with ease, scoffing under his breath as he ushered you toward the passenger side.

"Give me the fucking keys, Jungkook—"

He let out a dark, humorless laugh. "First of all, you’ve been drinking. Don’t be fucking stupid. Second of all, why do you sound like you’re mad at me? I’m mad at you!"

"I had a fucking lemonade, I didn’t drink, you psycho!" you snapped, spinning on your heel to face him. "And, I’m sorry, mad at me?" You shoved his hand off your stomach and made a grab for the keys, but he slipped them into his pocket, resting his hand right over them like he was daring you to try.

"You’re the one who just went ape-shit and beat half the bar to a fucking pulp!"

"Don’t be dramatic," he rolled his eyes, leaning casually against the car like he hadn’t just trashed multiple people inside.

"You just fucking—"

He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "And why am I here in the first place, Y/N?"

"Oh, I don’t know," you snapped back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe because you’re a—"

You cut yourself off this time, catching the slight arch of his brows—just a fraction.

His head tilted, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

"I’m a what, baby?" His voice was low, amused, taunting.

You squinted at him, but he just waited, utterly patient, like he had all the time in the world.

"I’m a what?"

Your eyes rolled to the sky in frustration, and you turned your back on him, yanking on the door handle in frustration. But of course, it was locked. You didn’t even bother looking back at him.

"Open the door, Jungkook."

"Sure," he jingled the keys in his pocket with infuriating calmness, "When you finish your sentence. I’m a what?"

You glared over your shoulder at him, biting back a snarl as your eyes raked down his stupidly gorgeous frame. Tousled hair, the top two buttons of his dress shirt sluttily popped open, bruised and bloody hands casually tucked into the pockets of his designer slacks. So fucking annoying.

"You," you started, eyes narrowing as you stepped back. "Are sleeping alone tonight." You punctuated it with a sarcastic smile before pushing off the car and storming down the street toward your own.

The second you started walking, you heard his footsteps trailing after you like a shadow. You just shook your head, your tone clipped as you bit out, "Go home, Jungkook. Your home. I’m sleeping at my own place tonight."

"Mm, and how do you plan on getting there?" His voice followed, calm—too calm.

"Hmm, take a wild fucking guess, genius," you snapped, diving back into your purse to grab your keys. But your hand came up empty.

"Mother fucker," you hissed, spinning around to find yourself face-to-face with his broad chest. You took a breath, glaring up at him. "Give me my keys."

"When you finish what you were saying," he replied lowly.

You scoffed, incredulous. "You’ll give me my keys and let me drive home if I finish my sentence?" You almost laughed in his face, knowing damn well he was full of shit.

"No," he shrugged, his honesty almost infuriating, "but I still want you to say it."

You groaned, exasperated. "Why is it so important to you—"

"Everything you say is important to me." His tone was unflinchingly direct. "And I want to know what you think of me."

For a split second, your heart tugged at his words, even as the anger bubbling in your chest fought to take over.

You weren’t mad at him for going in there and smashing that dirty sleaze’s head into the counter. You weren’t mad that he had taken on the Goliath twins like a reckless maniac with no concern for his own well-being.

You were mad because he lied to you.

"A liar." The words slipped from your lips, quiet but cutting, your eyes locking with his.

The flicker of pain that flashed across his gaze was immediate. He hadn’t been expecting that. He had braced himself for you to call him a possessive jerk, a jealous asshole, even a fucking loser. But not that.

"Baby," Jungkook swallowed, his beaten hands slowly gliding down to caress the sides of the dress he both loved and hated seeing you in. "I’m so sorry."

"Yeah," you nodded, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away just as he tried to lean down for a kiss. "Always are, huh?"

"Please, don’t," he sighed softly, his breath warm against your neck as his nose nuzzled into your skin. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had buried his fist into a guy’s jaw just five minutes ago. “I would never leave your side if I didn’t have to. You know that. You have to know that.”

"And you just had to stay back tonight of all nights?" Your words were sharp, cutting. "Couldn’t get one of your two fucking assistants to carry some of the workload? Or maybe that slut from level 7 who’s always begging to take some stress off her ‘big, hunky, hardworking boss?’"

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, nipping at your neck in amusement when you imitated Heejin’s voice. She hadn’t ever said anything quite that bold—obviously. You would’ve had him fire her on the spot if she had. But her lingering glances, the way she was always offering herself up for extra tasks, the way she hovered around… yeah, her actions spoke louder than words, and it made your blood fucking boil.

"Our board meeting ran way overtime, and they sprung last-minute critical amendments on us for the Cypher Project, baby," he mumbled into your skin, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. "You know no one else could’ve handled it, or I would’ve been out of there."

"Okay." You nodded, lips pressing together as you let him kiss your neck for a while, but your mind was still racing.

"Okay?" he echoed in a hum, his mouth moving lower, pressing another soft kiss just above your collarbone. He sounded almost suspicious at how easily you seemed to be dropping the argument.

"Okay," you repeated, still letting him kiss you, your body slightly relaxing under his touch.

He hummed again, but then something clicked. No. This was too easy. You were never this quick to drop an argument. There wasn’t nearly enough groveling.

"Baby—"

Before he could finish, your hand shot into his left pocket, snatching the keys and shoving him you off with your other hand. He stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise as he barely caught his balance. You didn’t wait around to see him recover; you just turned and headed straight for your car.

Of course, he followed.

"Baby, come on—"

You didn’t stop, your pace quickening as you adjusted your handbag on your shoulder. "Nope. Don’t care."

"Baby, I'm fucking sorry."

"Uh-huh," you muttered, clicking the button to unlock your car before yanking the door open. He was right behind you, still trying.

“You’re not seriously leaving me right now, are you?”

You shot him a cold glance, leaning on the car door. “Yep. Maybe you should call Heejin—see if she’s free tonight. She can keep my side of the bed warm,” you spat, sliding into the driver’s seat.

His jaw ticked, tongue poking at the side of his cheek as he leaned back, letting you slam the door in his face. The engine roared to life, filling the thick silence between you two, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he nodded, something dark flashing in his eyes as his teeth toyed with his lip ring.

“You know I’m just gonna follow you, right?” His low voice carried through the glass, calm as ever.

You rolled your eyes, throwing the car into gear and pulling out of the lot.

But you weren’t the least bit surprised when, just a few moments later, you caught sight of his car pulling out right behind you.

He was home before you.

Not that you were surprised. You had gotten the doorbell alert two streets over, and it only made you scoff, your foot easing off the gas as you slowed down even more, wanting to make him wait. You had briefly considered going to Jimin’s for the night, but you knew better. Even though Jungkook had a soft spot for his assistant, there was no way in hell he’d let you sleep over at another guy’s house, and you weren't about to drag Jimin into that.

Sliding out of your car, you said nothing, grabbing your coat and purse from the passenger seat before locking it. Jungkook was already perched on your front doorstep, his head snapping up the second your tires crunched against the driveway.

“Baby, I need you to turn your location back on. I get it. You made your point—”

“Don’t start, Jungkook.” You sighed, your heels clicking against the stone steps as you brushed past him to unlock the front door.

You didn’t even bother closing the door behind you as you walked in, knowing he was right behind, the sound of it clicking shut as he locked it for you. Your purse and coat landed carelessly on the hallway table, and your fingers instinctively massaged the soreness creeping up the side of your neck. Without a word, Jungkook crouched down and slipped off your heels, lining them up neatly next to his shoes.

It was late, and the exhaustion that had been chasing you all night was finally sinking in. Your body ached, your mind was running on fumes, and all you really wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep. But something in the air told you that wasn’t happening any time soon. Whether it would be another argument, angry makeup sex, or another night of kicking Jungkook to the couch—only to lie sleepless for an hour before dragging his ass back to your bed—you weren’t sure yet.

Your steps were slow as you made your way to the bathroom, flicking the light on before leaning heavily against the sink. You cracked your neck, your eyes closing for a brief moment as the exhaustion took over.

You didn’t even flinch when Jungkook’s chest pressed against your back, his strong arms slipping around you as he reached for the faucet to wash his hands. The water ran pinkish, swirling down the drain as it cleared the blood and dirt from his knuckles, but you weren’t concerned. He knew how to throw a punch safely—years of boxing and training made sure of that. This was very mild compared to the damage he’d done in the early days of your relationship. Back then, you’d spent more time getting him unbanned from clubs than actually enjoying them.

He dried his hands slowly, taking his time before reaching for one of your hair ties on the counter. His fingers worked through your hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail.

You were far too drained to even consider pushing him away—not that you would’ve, even if you weren’t. Upset? Sure. But truly mad? Not really.

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you fell for a wildly successful, young CEO. Long nights, last-minute cancellations, missed plans—it was the nature of his world. Normally, you accepted it. But tonight had been different. Tonight was supposed to be one of the rare, precious evenings you finally had time to spend together after months of clashing schedules. You’d planned for it, gotten excited about it, and then… it was ruined. So, yeah, you were pissed.

But at the same time, you understood. The Cypher Project was monumental for Jeon Corp. Jungkook had poured nearly a year of blood, sweat, and no sleep into it. It was his baby, and only a handful of people were allowed anywhere near it—his assistants, his CCO, and you. This project mattered. But god, you missed him.

This, though? This was just typical Jeon Jungkook groveling. He’d pamper you, apologize at least a thousand times, buy you another bag or three, and then fuck you until you couldn’t remember why you were mad in the first place. The order of events varied; the bags sometimes took a day or two to arrive.

Once your hair was up, he gently spun you around and lifted you onto the bathroom counter. Your eyes remained shut as he moved between your legs, his long arms reaching for your skincare products. You didn’t have to tell him anything—he knew your routine better than you did at this point.

Before he got started, you cracked one eye open, just for a moment, grabbing his right hand and holding it softly in your lap. Your thumb traced over his knuckles, following the tiny splits. One was still bleeding slightly, while the other looked like it would be bruising by morning.

“Getting better, baby. Barely any blood this time,” you hummed, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles before closing your eyes again, waiting.

He smiled at that, though you couldn’t see it. The weight of the towel settled on your lap, and his hand left yours, resting lightly on your chest as he leaned you down, cupping warm water from the sink to wet your face. You stayed still, letting him move through the motions, only shifting when he needed you to. His touch was precise but gentle as he massaged the cleanser into your skin.

Your toes wiggled absentmindedly on either side of his thighs, tapping softly against him while he moved through your products, handling each one with practiced ease.

Jungkook was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke.

"I want to move in with you."

You didn’t open your eyes—mostly because your face was covered in toner—but the way your feet stopped swinging and your eyebrows shot up said everything.

“Well, that’s one way to grovel,” you muttered under your breath, leaning down blindly to rinse your face. Jungkook cupped his hand, helping you wash off the spots you missed before gently wiping your face dry with the towel. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips through the fabric.

Cute, you thought.

“Gross,” you mumbled, the faintest smile tugging at your lips.

He didn’t respond, just slipped his hands down your bare legs, wrapping them securely around his waist. You tugged the towel down and blinked up at his pretty face. He just stood there, quiet, watching you. Waiting.

"Are you waiting for something?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He bit his lip, barely concealing a smile. “Hmm. Is that how you’re going to be?”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“So your answer is no, then.” He hummed.

“My answer is nothing because you didn’t ask me a question,” you retorted, brattily swatting his bum with your foot, the light tap making him smirk.

“It’s going to happen eventually,” he said, his tone certain, almost mocking, as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours. His hand caught your ankle, stopping your wandering toe from getting too close to the no-go zone. Well, except that one ti—

“May as well get it out of the way, baby.”

“Oh,” you laughed, amusement coloring your voice as you unwrapped your legs from his waist, resting them on the counter. “Glad you consider the next step in our relationship something we should just get out of the way.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he pulled your legs back down, positioning himself firmly between them again, his hands settling possessively on your thighs. “You know what I mean,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a low growl.

“You already know I’d do anything with you, baby,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as your feet lifted back up to drum lightly against his bum. “But I’m annoyed that you asked me this right after an argument. You’re just doing what you think will make me happy—”

The cold, metallic sensation on your thigh interrupted your sentence. Frowning, you glanced down to see his tattooed hand resting on your skin, something small and cool pressed beneath his palm.

Your brows furrowed. “Move your hand, Kookie.”

He didn’t move, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were serious—more serious than you’d seen in a long while. And that was saying something. Jungkook was always confident, always certain about your relationship, but this… this was different.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his tongue flicking at his lip ring.

“Yes?” you asked, your voice softening as your finger reached up to gently swat his tongue away before you adjusted his lip ring back into place.

“You know how much I love you, right? Like, really know how in love with you I am?” His voice was so genuine, his eyes searching yours intently.

Your head tilted slightly as you swallowed the urge to tease him. The feeling of that little cool object under his palm had your mind racing. You already knew exactly what it was, and if you’d been wearing underwear right now, they’d be fucking soaked.

“I do,” you nodded just as seriously, your hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs as you leaned forward, waiting for his pouty lips to meet yours. He didn’t make you wait long, leaning down immediately, humming as you gently suckled on his tongue and over his lip ring before pulling back.

“I know, baby. I feel it every day." You spoke against his lips, giving them a soft peck before pulling back a little, "I’m so lucky to have you all to myself. I love you just as much, my darling. I hope you know that.”

“I do, baby.” He nodded, leaning down to brush his pretty nose against yours. “You’re it for me, angel. There’s no one after you. That, I know.”

“Mmh,” you grunted in delight, your nose scrunching as your hand snaked around the back of his neck, pulling him down to your lips, hard.

Jungkook melted into you instantly, his hands finding their way up your body as he kissed you with the kind of need that made your entire body hum. His fingers curled into the back of your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss, and you moaned softly against his mouth, just as his hands moved lower.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, breaking the kiss suddenly as your eyes dropped to the now-uncovered little piece of metal resting on your thigh.

Tears welled up in your eyes the moment you saw it. Your hand darted down, snatching up the now-warm key like it was made of glass, your fingers trembling as you inspected it. This wasn’t a key to his penthouse—you already had one of those.

This was new. Bigger. And turning you the fuck on.

Jungkook's bunny teeth grazed his lip ring, a rare flicker of hesitation crossing his face as he watched you silently. Jeon Jungkook didn’t get nervous. He was rich, successful, gorgeous, and had the hottest girl he had ever seen in his life all to himself. But even he couldn’t deny that his heart was beating a little fast, or whatever.

“Baby, fuck," you choked out, your brows furrowing as the tears threatened to spill over. You looked up at him, still clutching the key. "You fucking... ugh!"

Your hand gripped the collar of his shirt, yanking him back down to you. You kissed him again, deep and needy, your lips crashing against his with a desperation you couldn’t quite name.

"Love me that much, hm?" you mumbled between kisses, your voice husky, body arching into him as his tattooed hands slid down your sides, long fingers squeezing around the soft flesh. "Bought me a fucking house, huh, baby?"

Jungkook’s smirk brushed against your lips, so cocky, so him. “Well, I’m not fucking renting it.”

A loud laugh bubbled out of you, muffled by his mouth still pressed against yours. It was cut short when his tongue slipped past your parted lips, hot and familiar, moving with practiced ease.

His tongue... fuck, with the number of times and places you’d had it in your body, you were sure you could pick it out from a lineup blindfolded. Skilled, wet, with that lingering touch of cigarette. Fucking perfect.

You grunted against his mouth, your hand blindly reaching to set the key on the counter without pulling away. “Told you to stop smoking.”

“Told you to get fucked,” he hummed back, his words vibrating on your tongue as his hands slid from your hips to your ass, gripping hard enough to make you gasp before pulling you flush against his growing bulge.

“Cunt,” you giggled, your fingers tangling around the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper, your tongue chasing that smoky flavor as heat pulsed between your legs. The softest whine escaped your lips as you swallowed his taste.

“Bitch,” he mumbled lowly, tattooed fingers giving a dirty squeeze to your ass, brows furrowing in delight as his hips ground into yours, the thick, hard length of him pressing between your thighs. Even through the layers of fabric, the friction sent a needy throb straight to your clit.

Your nails scratched lightly against the nape of his neck, and just as you were about to bite down on his tongue, he suddenly pulled back, leaving your lips parted in a confused pout.

“What?” you whined, trying to tug him back down to your mouth, but he wasn’t budging. His eyes were locked in place.

On your crotch.

Oh.

“Y/N.” His voice dropped, deeper, more dangerous.

“Yes, my love?” you blinked innocently, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He didn’t move.

“Are you not wearing fucking panties?”

“Um,” you pursed your lips, pretending to think. “Would you believe me if I said I was?”

Your boyfriend scoffed sorely, giving a bitter nod before peeling himself from you completely and walking out of the bathroom.

You sat there for a second, blinking, frowning at the sight of him walking away, watching how the thick muscles in his back rippled beneath his shirt. God, you just wanted to run your tongue over every inch of that perfect, sinful skin, remembering all the times you had gotten off just by riding that big fucking back—

Shit.

“Baby!” you called after him with a pout, hopping off the counter and ignoring the sticky feeling between your thighs as your feet hit the floor. You wobbled slightly, legs stiff from sitting too long. With a quick kiss to the key resting beside the sink, you dropped it into your jewelry case and scurried after your angry boyfriend.

“Kookie, hold on…” The sound of your footsteps echoed down the hallway, needy and impatient.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were really pissed when he canceled, okay, and so you did the one thing you knew would get under his skin... going commando in public when he wasn’t around.

You fully expected him to find out at the bar or during some angry foreplay at home. Then, he’d get all sexy, possessive, and you’d end up screaming his name so loud your neighbors would complain again.

But not like this. Not after he’d been so gentle, taking your makeup off with soft, careful touches. Not after he’d just given you the key to the fucking house he bought for the two of you! He was probably feeling all soft and vulnerable, having just taken such a big step in your relationship...

You know, people didn’t really get it—but deep down, your boyfriend was just a big, cuddly teddy bear. Sure, a teddy bear with like three assault charges, but that’s besides the point.

God. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Jungkook didn’t stop. He rounded the corner into your bedroom, shoulders stiff, jaw clenched.

You followed him in, flicking on the light just in time to see him unbuttoning his shirt, quietly tugging it free from where it had been tucked into his slacks. His back was to you, standing near your vanity, jaw tight with restraint, anger radiating off him in waves.

The muscles in his broad shoulders flexed as you stepped closer, your palms sliding up the expanse of his back.

"Baby, I'm—"

"Don't." His voice was low, firm—a quiet command cutting off any apology on the tip of your tongue. He pulled his shirt off, tossing it over the chair beside him before his hand moved to his belt, the metallic clink sounding sharper in the silence of the room.

You sighed softly, pressing a kiss to his warm, bare shoulder, the skin still taut with tension. Your forehead rested against his back as your arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. “Are you mad at me?”

"Mhm." He scoffed, pulling his belt through the loops and throwing it onto the growing pile of clothes.

Without a word, he shrugged off your hold, his back stiff as he walked over to your dresser. Opening the middle drawer, he pulled out one of his shirts, and without even looking back at you, he held it out.

You didn’t hesitate, taking it from his hand. He didn’t need to say anything—Jungkook never wore shirts to bed. Your fingers slipped behind your back, tugging down the zipper of your dress before you let the fabric fall in a pool at your feet.

His eyes caught your movement in the mirror, and he scoffed softly, watching as you unclasped your bra. The bra slipped down, the absence of panties now glaringly obvious. His expression tightened as you slid his shirt over your head, the oversized fabric falling to mid-thigh.

Jungkook unbuttoned his slacks in silence, shoving them off until he stood in just his briefs. He bent down, gathering both of your discarded clothes before disappearing into the bathroom to toss them into the hamper.

You heard the water running as you pulled the band from your hair and padded toward the bathroom, wanting to brush your teeth too. But before you could enter, he stepped out, his tall frame blocking the doorway.

"Get in bed," he said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

You pouted but turned around, dragging your feet toward the bed. From the way he flicked off the light behind you, it was clear you weren’t getting dicked down tonight. Jungkook always kept the lights on when he was fucking you—he liked to see everything properly. You frowned as you crawled under the covers.

"My love," you started softly, watching his back as he climbed into bed, turning to face the window. He didn’t respond. "Baby, please—"

"I’m so fucking angry," he finally spoke, his voice low, thick with frustration. Your hand raked over the tattoos covering his tense arm as you scooted closer, your fingertips tracing the ink in the way you always did to calm him down.

"Turn around and go to sleep," he grumbled, laced with warning.

"Can’t sleep when you’re mad at me. You know that," you whined softly, shuffling closer until you were pressed against his back, your leg draping over his waist, pulling yourself into his space.

He tensed under your touch but didn’t push you away.

You nuzzled into him, your cheek resting on his shoulder, hand tracing gentle patterns along his side. "Talk to me, baby," you whispered, your voice soft, pleading. "Please."

"You knew it would piss me off. I don’t know why you’re surprised—"

"Yeah, but I thought it would be like sexy, possessive, fuck me into the mattress mad…" Your words were muffled as your lips brushed against the warmth of his back, speaking directly into his skin. “I didn’t expect you to ask me to move in with you, baby—”

"So, if I didn’t," he interrupted, tugging the blanket over his shoulder, brushing you off in the process. "You wouldn’t be sorry at all?"

You frowned, pulling the blanket back down and reclaiming your spot, pressing yourself against him again.

“Not really,” you admitted, lips finding the little heart tattoo on his shoulder blade that he’d let you needle into him. You pressed a gentle kiss to it, your voice softening into a playful coo. “Was really mad at you. But then you were all stupidly cute and you bought us a fucking houseee, baby.”

Your fingers curled around his bare side, your kisses turning into quick, playful pecks across the tattoo. "And now I am very..." You pressed another kiss to his skin, “sorry.” Kiss. “My love.” Kiss.

He shifted slightly, his body tense but responsive to your touch. You knew you were getting to him, your lips soft against his inked skin, your tone low and slow. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop you, not entirely immune to the way your kisses trailed over his back, or the way your fingers skimmed down his side.

“You think you can just kiss me and make it better?” His voice was still low, but there was something softer creeping into it, the edges of his anger starting to blur under your touch.

You gazed affectionately at your softie's back, a smile playing on your lips as you rubbed your nose over the tattoo. “Maybe,” you hummed. “But I can do a little more than kiss you, if that's not enough…” you whispered, your hand trailing lower, brushing just above the waistband of his briefs.

He let out a small, frustrated sigh, but his body betrayed him—muscles relaxing slightly under your touch.

“Brat,” he muttered under his breath, shifting his position to lie on his back, allowing the blanket to slide down his body and reveal his broad, toned chest.

A soft, approving grunt left your lips as you shamelessly drank in the view, your eyes lingering on your favorite tattoo, scribbled prettily across his chest.

You’ve always been vocal about your love for Jungkook’s tattoos—they’re one of your favorite things about him. Some hold more meaning than others, but they're all breathtakingly beautiful. Honestly, with the number of times your nails have raked down his skin while he takes you like an untamed force, you’d think the ink would’ve rubbed off by now.

But your favorite? The tattoo nestled right below his left, perfectly pink nipple.

Your name.

You’ve never been one for tattoos on yourself, and you know people have all sorts of opinions about getting your partner’s name etched into your skin—a curse, they say. But when Jungkook told you, not asked, told you that he was going to get your name tattooed on him, you'd never dropped to your knees so fast in your life.

You were both lounging lazily on his couch, enjoying one of those rare days off, when he told you the news. The next twelve hours were spent on his lap, with the couch left in a state that required professional cleaning. Jungkook was very upset when you had it cleaned while he was at work, but you made it up to him.

By telling him you wanted one too.

You could already picture your sweet Christian mother rolling in her grave at the thought of you getting a tattoo, let alone your boyfriend’s name—the same boyfriend who’s done things to you no amount of repentance could ever erase. But it’s okay. You planned to get it in a place she wouldn’t see, wherever she’s watching from.

When you told Jungkook about your plan to get matching ink, it led to the second most tender and passionate sex you’d ever had—the first being the day you both said “I love you” for the first time. He's a sap like that.

You were supposed to get "Jungkook" etched onto your inner thigh, but the moment the needle touched your skin, you knew there was no way in hell you were sitting through all eight letters. So, you settled for "JK." Still adorable, and you loved it. So did he.

He’s obsessed with it, sometimes spending hours suckling on the ink. He’ll fall asleep with his head in your lap, the tattooed skin nestled in his mouth like a pacifier. His hand gravitates there when you're out to dinner with friends, resting directly on the spot if you're wearing a skirt, over your jeans if you're not.

Jungkook, of course, got your entire first name and let you pick where it would go. He only had one condition: it had to be on the front of his body—somewhere on his chest or maybe his thigh. When you asked why, he simply said he wasn’t getting any other tattoos there. That space was only for you.

You immediately picked the spot under your favorite nipple of his, and rode him into the sunset right after.

Angel isn’t a word most people—well, any people—would use to describe Jeon Jungkook. But for you, it’s that simple.

He’s your angel. Your short-tempered, jealous, possessive, fiery-fisted angel. For forever and then some.

Despite your boyfriend's irritated expression, you could sense the familiar heat building up in him, causing his eyes to darken and his teeth to tug on his lip rings unconsciously. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

God, you were down so bad.

A sly grin tugged at your lips as you shifted, sliding your leg over his waist to straddle him, your bare heat pressing flush against the hard bulge straining beneath his briefs. A soft, satisfied hum escaped your throat as you leaned down, letting your lips graze along the sharp line of his jaw.

“Thought you liked your bitches bratty,” you murmured, the words brushing against his lip rings. You kissed your way slowly, deliberately down his neck. “Heard Heejin can get real mouthy.”

“Hm, she’s not usually that bad around me,” he said, his tone casual, almost playful. His tattooed fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing lazily along your sides. “Then again, her mouth is usually otherwise occupied.”

Your lips froze mid-kiss against his neck, the heat in the room shifting as a bubbling wave of jealousy swirled low in your stomach. You knew he was only matching your teasing with his own, but it didn’t stop the image from forming—Heejin, beneath you, as you straddled her in this exact position. Only this time, you weren’t smirking. This time, your hands gripped a pillow, pressing it down firmly until her frantic kicks finally stilled.

You recovered quickly, trailing your kisses lower down his chest. “Yeah?” you bit, voice tight as you continued kissing along his skin. “She suck your cock just the way you like it, baby?”

Jungkook swallowed a shiver as you slid down his body, your mouth hovering over his chest. The tension between you thickened as your teeth grazed his nipple, your tongue darting out just enough to tease.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice strained as he felt your hot breath fan over him. “She’s real sloppy with it. Bit surprising, considering she acts like a fucking church girl in the office—”

You waited until his nipple hardened from the sensation of your breath before biting down, hard, sinking your teeth into the sensitive skin.

His reaction was instant—a sharp hiss slipping through his clenched teeth as his fingers dug into your sides on instinct, gripping you hard enough to leave marks.

His hips jerked up against you, the friction sending a spark through your core as he tried to suppress the groan building in his throat at your obvious stake to claim. His restraint was fading, and you couldn't fucking wait.

You followed up with a soft lick, soothing the now-red nub before lowering your mouth to press a wet, possessive kiss over your tattoo on his chest.

“Sorry,” you mumbled insincerely, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him.

Jungkook’s gaze was fiery, narrowed as he looked up at you, but you could see the way his breath quickened, his stomach contracting deliciously beneath your bare heat that he was affected.

The grip on your hips tightened, pulling you down harder as he let out a low warning. "Careful, baby."

You smiled small, dragging your nails lightly over his abdomen as you trailed back up his body. “Sorry, baby. Hyungwon used to love it when I did that—"

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Jungkook was flipping you onto your back, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. The look in his eyes was dark, jaw clenched tight as he loomed over you.

If there was one thing that drove Jungkook over the edge, it was when you mentioned your ex.

"Think you're so funny, hm?" His voice dropped low, a dangerous edge creeping in as his grip on your wrists tightened slightly, his gaze darkening as it scanned your face. You could feel the shift—he was serious now.

You pouted up at him, a small smile still playing on your lips. “Just being honest, love. Hyungwon’s left nipple was really sensitive—”

A deep scoff reverberated from Jungkook’s chest, his fingers tightening their hold just enough to send a shiver down your spine. He leaned down, his nose brushing yours as his jaw clenched.

"If you ever comp—" he stopped abruptly, his breath unsteady, voice shaking with barely-contained rage at being compared to the guy he’d nearly put into a coma the last time he laid eyes on him. His jaw clenched, tongue sliding over the inside of his cheek as he glared down at you. "Say his name again, Y/N. I fucking dare you."

You don't know why you did it.

Maybe you lacked survival instincts. Or maybe it was because you were wetter than the fucking Atlantic.

Oh well. Too late now.

"Hyungw—"

You barely got through the first syllable before you were flipped onto your stomach, your cheek pressed into the mattress, the sudden force of the movement knocking the air from your lungs.

A grunt escaped your lips, your head tilting just enough to catch your breath. You could barely contain the smile threatening to spread across your face, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as a thrill of excitement raced through your veins.

Fucking finally.

Jungkook’s weight vanished from the bed, and though every nerve in your body screamed at you to move, you knew better. You had been here before, too many times to count. Sitting up to look at him would earn you more than just punishment—it would leave you edged and begging for release until you were a writhing, pathetic mess. Normally, you’d relish every second of that torture, but right now you were too fucking soaked and too fucking needy to drag this out any longer. You haven't had his cock inside you since before he left your place for work this morning.

And that was like… seventeen fucking hours ago!

Your body thrummed with anticipation, the ache between your thighs pulsing as you stayed perfectly still, hands flat at your sides. You nuzzled deeper into the pillow with a pleased hum, toes wiggling in eager impatience.

Then came the sound you were waiting for.

He was back behind you, the loud click of the belt buckle confirming it. "'M getting too soft on you, baby." His voice was low, dark.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you felt the cold brush of the belt against your bare thighs, the sensation jolting straight to your core.

You bit down harder on your lip, resisting the urge to respond. You knew that would only make it worse. And better.

"Let you ignore my texts," he hummed, the belt dragging slowly up the curve of your legs, making you squirm involuntarily under his touch.

"Let you walk around with no fucking panties," he growled, his hands pulling up the hem of his shirt so your body was fully exposed to him. You immediately gripped the fabric, holding it tight so it stayed in place, eager to feel the weight of his eyes on your bare skin.

"Bought you a fucking house."

He rested the belt on your waist, a promise of what was to come, then his fingers trailed lower, sliding exactly where you wanted them. He gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks just enough to let you feel the warm brush of his fingers against your slick heat.

"This what you wanted, baby?" His voice was a low, mocking drawl, dripping with condescension. "You want me to fuck you like the needy little slut you are?"

A helpless whimper escaped your lips, your thighs parting instinctively at his words, betraying the desperation that throbbed through every inch of your body.

It was fucked, really—how easily he could lead you into this hazy, trance-like state with just a few words. In everyday life, you were lippy, hot-headed, the kind of person who would never let anyone walk all over you without a fight.

But with Jungkook? When he controlled you, when he degraded you, it never left you feeling small, not like other inferior men from your past who only managed to make you feel amused or bored.

With Jungkook, it was different. The way he commanded you, as twisted as it was, it made you feel seen. Wanted. Like you were exactly where you needed to be—in his hands, under his control. All you desired was to surrender completely, to let him take and take until there was nothing left.

Maybe you were biased, considering you loved the man currently smirking wickedly above you with every fiber of your being, but who cared? He owned you, and god, did you love every second of it.

Jungkook hummed, his fingers sliding through your wetness, gathering it slowly. You could hear the smirk in his voice. "So wet just from running that fucking mouth of yours, huh?"

Your breath hitched, every nerve firing as he lifted a hand to press lightly on the buckle resting on your back, the pressure sending a delicious ache radiating through you. You could already imagine the sting it would leave, the thought alone making you drip.

Then, his hand trailed back down your side, leaving the belt untouched and useless on your back. You bit back a disappointed grunt.

"All leaky and achy just from imagining Heejin-ah with my cock in her mouth, baby?" His taunt was biting, and you couldn’t stop the irritated noise that bubbled from your throat. He deliberately added the friendly honorific to get a rise out of you. And it worked.

"Oh?" Jungkook's laughter was filled with malice as he lightly traced his thumb over your folds for the briefest of seconds, not enough to satisfy, not even close.

"You don’t like it when I talk about other girls having me like you have me, huh? Not so fun is it, baby?"

His thumb brushed against your clit, fleeting, fast, gone before you could even register the sensation. Your hips bucked, chasing after the contact you craved, but he was already pulling away.

"Funny that," he mused before his tone turned menacingly low. "Because you sure as hell like talking about that boring fucking cuck a bit too much for my liking."

With the last remnants of your composure, you opened your mouth, ready to fire back one last bratty comment. Maybe the lord was on your side, though, because before you could get a word out, Jungkook cut you off.

"Color."

The retort died on your tongue, and before you even processed it, the response was out.

"Bright fucking green."

Jungkook’s mouth came down hot and harsh, his evil tongue licking a fat stripe right down your soaking slit. He took one of your ass cheeks in each hand, parting them effortlessly. You felt more than heard the deep inhale and exhale over your cunt as he dipped his nose into it like a dog would do to their water bowl on a hot fucking day.

Your breathing turned erratic, and your hands curled into fists to stop yourself from grabbing his head and forcing him deeper into your pussy. The way his tongue moved so deliberately, so lazily, only heightened the tension coiling tight in your core. When he had his fill of dragging his nose up and down your slit, his mouth latched onto your clit, slurping it up like it was his last fucking meal.

Your back arched, a strangled moan ripping from your lips as your fingers clawed at your sheets, trying to clutch onto any last thread of sanity. The grip on your ass tightened, keeping you wide open as he went at you with a brutal pace. Your thighs trembled around his head, your hole fluttering at the pleasure he was delivering to your clit. He was relentless, taking out all his anger and frustration on your poor little pussy.

Your cunt couldn’t keep up with him. It was dripping, soaking your boyfriend's face faster than he could lap it up, coating his chin and dripping down to the sheets beneath you. He groaned into your pussy, a low, dirty sound that vibrated right through your core.

"Ah! Fuck baby," you sobbed, burying your face further into the mattress. "Ngh-fuckkk!"

He didn't stop, tongue noisily sucking and flicking at your clit. Then his hand lifted and came down hard on your right ass cheek, the sharp slap sending a jolt straight through you. It ripped a moan from your throat and you forced yourself not to ask for another one.

"Not my name right now," he pulled back enough to scoff.

Before you could respond, Jungkook’s hands were already on you, shifting your body until you were holding yourself up on your hands and knees, your weight settled into doggy position.

He let out a low hum in approval before wasting no time and burying his mouth back into your heat, tongue sliding up and down viciously through your sopping folds.

“Ah-uhhh! Yes, daddy, oh my godddd,” you cried out, your eyes rolling back, hips bucking as his nose pressed deeper into your pussy.

He moaned into you, the vibration rippling through you as his tongue trailed slowly toward the entrance of your weepy hole.

Your evil fucking boyfriend hovered there for a moment, pretending to tease the tight muscle before his lips gave a big, harsh suck. The sound echoed in your ears as he slurped up as much of your slick as he could, coating his tongue before shoving it right into your clenching hole.

“Ah!” Your scream tore raw from your throat, your nails digging sorely into the mattress. His free hand slid up your body, four fingers pressing into the top of your ass cheeks, gripping you with possessive strength, while his thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing it in big, messy circles.

"Daddy -ah! Oh my fuckkk yes, eat your fucking pussy daddy, goddd."

Jungkook groaned lowly into you, eyes fluttering closed as he relished in the taste of the sweetest pussy he's ever had and will ever have in his life. He was manic as he drank from it, slurped at it, rubbed it all over his dirty fucking face. The wet sounds of his tongue pistoning into your hole, his finger sliding over your soppy clit, your fucked-out whimpers while you screamed for your Daddy.

Music to his fucking ears.

Your legs shook, elbows digging into the mattress as you forced yourself to keep form. If it weren't for your boyfriend's firm hand pressed against your stomach, holding you up, you both know you'd be face down on the mattress again.

Jungkook felt the tension in your belly beneath his palm and he knew you were getting close. He let you writhe for a few more seconds before slowing his movements, slipping his tongue from your hole and pressing a kiss to the pretty, puffed outer lips. He gave a wet suckle to your pebbled clit on his way out and finally pulled back with a loud smacking sound.

As much as the whiny cry you let out when he pulled away made his already aching cock throb harder in his briefs, he needed both hands for what he was about to do to you. And you knew it.

His bunny teeth poked out to graze against your inner left thigh, pussy-coated lips puckering to press a soft kiss over the ink that bore his name. Then, his hand pulled back and landed a quick smack on your right thigh, the light sting spreading instantly across your skin.

You understood immediately, a strained groan slipping from your lips as you rolled onto your back, head sinking into the pillow.

The belt buckle had been digging into your skin, so you quickly pulled it from beneath you, tossing it beside you on the bed. Your feet pressed into the mattress, knees bending as your legs spread open once more, leaving your glistening pussy on full display—just the way he taught you.

"Mm," Jungkook hummed approvingly, his eyes raking over your body with that look of dark satisfaction. His hand drifted to his cock, now uncomfortably hard, and gave it a rough palm through the fabric.

When his gaze paused at your chest, where his shirt had slipped back down to cover your breasts, you knew what to do. 

But you didn't want to take it off… it was your favorite.

Instead, you tugged the fabric higher, pulling it up over your tits, shuddering as the material grazed over your sensitive nipples. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips before you bit down lightly on the hem, holding it in place between your teeth.

Jungkook let out a low, dirty groan, his fingers trailing up your thighs, giving the soft flesh a possessive squeeze. "Good girl, baby."

"Thank you, daddy," you keened at the praise, though your response came out muffled with the shirt wedged between your teeth.

You gave a little impatient wiggle of your hips, feeling the mixture of slick and saliva begin to drip out of your pussy the longer it was left unattended.

Jungkook's eyes hooded at the sight, watching as a glob of his spit dripped down from your pussy and disappeared right between your crack. He swallowed hard, hands itching to spread the fat cheeks and watch the liquid pool around your tight, puckered hole. He'd grab your phone and make you bring up Park Hyungwon's contact, force you to Facetime the pathetic fuck, and make him watch as he let more of his spit trail from his mouth right over your greedy ass. Then he'd use his big tongue to shove it deeper and deeper into your winking little hole .

Of course, the Hyungwon part was purely theoretical because you no longer had his number or any contact with that cunt anymore. Jungkook saw to that three days into your relationship. But the other parts—

"Daddy?"

His gaze slowly drifted up to your pretty face when your muffled voice broke him from his thoughts. "Yes, my baby?"

"Wha's da bel' for?" you mumbled, your speech slurred by the fabric of his shirt still caught between your teeth.

Jungkook’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip, eyes darkening at the sight of you struggling to speak, and he wasn’t surprised when his cock twitched in response, pressing harder against his stomach.

He glanced at the belt lying next to you. “Was gonna punish you, angel,” he admitted softly.

His hand trailed down, freeing his throbbing shaft from its restraints and kicking the briefs aside. The (non-sexual related) clean freak in him made a mental note to tidy up later.

Climbing onto the bed, he settled between your legs, his weight pressing down on you as his chest melded into your soft, warm skin. A quiet, content sigh slipped from his lips as he let himself sink into you.

“But 'm still very sorry about earlier,” he murmured, his words a gentle apology as his hand brushed along your side, his nose nuzzling against your boob. “And I wanna be a little gentler with you tonight. Is that okay?”

A warmth swirled in your stomach, sending soft flutters through your body. Your hand lifted to thread through his silky, messy hair, your nails grazing his scalp just the way he loved.

“Of cour-kkhm,” His eyes flicked up to meet yours from where his head rested on your chest, and with a bunny smile, his fingers carefully tugged his shirt from your mouth, freeing your lips so you could speak more clearly.

Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his tattooed fingers, feeling his warmth seep into your skin. “You can have me any way you want, baby,” you whispered softly, your words full of affection. “You know that.”

“Never getting rid of me, you know that, right?” he murmured against the soft skin of your sideboob, his lips puckering to suck a delicate mark into the flesh.

“Would never try,” you sighed, your hand trailing down to rest on his warm, solid back as he licked tenderly over the mark he’d left. “Would fucking castrate you if you even tried to leave me.”

A low, deep laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your body as he shifted up, his naked form pressing closer until his mouth found its place in the crook of your neck. He mumbled softly, a smirk tugging at his lips, “Would let you.”

You giggled, your head tilting to meet your other half. “Slut,” you mumbled sweetly before connecting your mouth with his. Your lips moved together in perfect sync, tongues lazily lapping against each other, unrushed and full of love.

The taste of you in his mouth had you clenching around nothing as the memory of his filthy tongue buried between your thighs minutes ago resurfaced. Your hips rocked up lightly, exhaling through your nose when the tip of his cock just barely brushed against your sticky clit, the sound loud in contrast to the soft click of your tongues.

Jungkook was no less affected, groaning into your mouth as his fingers tightened around the sides of your waist. His hips shifted down so the full length of his shaft could slip between your slick folds, and he reveled in the loud, squishy noise of your heat enveloping him as he slid back and forth.

“Mmmmhh,” you broke away from his mouth with a sigh of relief, your head lolling back as your body ignited at the feeling of his cock finally returning home. He didn’t make a move to push inside just yet, continuing his deep thrusts, coating his length and balls in your slick as he rutted back and forth. "Shit, baby."

Jungkook’s groan was strained as his hand trailed from your side, slipping between the two of you without moving his head. He reluctantly pulled his cock from your slick folds before two of his fingers were there to replace it, sinking into your heat without hesitation.

"F-fuck," you choked, your chest heaving at the sudden stretch, your body reacting instantly to the familiar intrusion. It was the first time something stiff had been inside you all night, and the relief was overwhelming.

Jungkook groaned low in your ear, letting you adjust for a second before his hunger took over. He pushed his fingers in deeper into your hole, sinking them in fully until his palm slapped loudly against your clit. Then he pulled them out and drove them back in, harder.

"Oh god, b-baby, shitttt." Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, jaw slacking when his long fingers easily reached that spongey part deep inside of you.

He nuzzled into your neck, his lips brushing the hot skin there as his fingers continued their relentless pace, a soft groan escaping his throat. The way your walls squeezed tightly around his fingers like you didn't want him to pull out, the loud sqsch-sqsch-sqsch of your pussy echoing in his ears as he thrusted his hand in and out of your dirty little hole.

God, he was going to cum untouched like a fucking teenager.

“Need to put it in, please, baby,” he begged softly, voice strained with need, his breath hot against your neck. “Need you."

Your hand cupped his face, fingers brushing lightly over his jawline as your eyes fluttered shut. “Take it,” you mewled, breath catching as his fingers slowed. His hips shifted back over you, his heavy balls pressed snugly against your clit. “Take it all, baby. It’s yours.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. He withdrew his fingers, his wet hand wrapping around his throbbing cock. He exhaled into your neck before slipping back into your folds and you choked out a loud sigh of relief as he finally began to fill you up.

“Shittttt,” he slurred against your neck, his forehead pressing into your jaw as he sank all the way in until his hips were flush with yours. “God, baby... so fucking good.”

His body stayed pressed against yours, his chest melting into your own, every inch of his skin needing to feel yours. His lips ghosted over your collarbone, up your neck, and to your jawline, pressing gentle kisses as he moved inside you with deep, unhurried thrusts.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, your hands sliding up his back, pulling him impossibly closer. You buried your face into his neck, the scent of Bvlgari and tobacco making your head spin. It was so good. So fucking him.

The warmth of his heavy body on top of you made you feel so safe, so completely his. It fueled the burning ache in your stomach, the pressure in your core building with each deep stroke.

Your brows furrowed, overwhelmed, and your eyes pooled with tears, both from pleasure and emotion. "God, I love you so much, Jungkook. You make me feel so safe a-and loved," you choked out, voice trembling.

Jungkook’s hips stilled slightly, but you felt the way his cock twitched inside you at your words. He pulled his head back, looking down at your tear-streaked face, eyes softening.

"My baby," he mumbled softly, his clean(er) hand lifting to brush away your tears before leaning down to press soft kisses over your flushed skin.

"As long as I’m alive, nothing and nobody will ever hurt a hair on your pretty little head, Y/N." He kissed over the fresh tears, licking the salty liquid off his lips before placing a soft kiss onto your pouty lips. "Besides me, of course, when you ask me to."

A watery chuckle escaped your lips as he added, "I love you more than I love myself, baby. You're my world. I would kill for you," another kiss to the corner of your mouth before he cheekily added, "almost have."

You giggled, shaking your head and leaning up to press a grateful kiss against his lips. You followed it with another, longer one, brushing softly over the cool metal of his lip rings. "Can't wait to live with you, baby."

"Mmm," he groaned in satisfaction, his hips instinctively picking up their slow, deep rhythm at your words. "Yeah? Can’t wait to be trapped in my house, nowhere to run when you’re being a little brat?"

You laughed, breathy from the way he was rolling his hips into you. "Like I get far as it is? You just follow me like a dirty stalker."

His smile turned dark and playful as his thrusts became a little sharper. "Uh-huh, and you think that would stop when we sign some stupid joint tenancy papers?"

You couldn't help the way you clenched around him at that, big eyes blinking up at him in shock. "You're letting me sign the papers with you?"

Jungkook's brows furrowed as if confused. "Baby, it's our house; why wouldn’t you?"

A grunt rumbled from your throat as you pulled him down, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Jungkook groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your hips tightly, his thrusts growing rougher in response to the bite.

The sounds that echoed around your bedroom were wet, needy, the slick squelching with every push and pull as he kept his pace, deep and steady. Your breaths mingled, his lips hovering over yours as he rocked into you.

Jungkook groaned lowly, his hips pressing harder, more urgent. “You feel so fucking good, baby,” he rasped, his lips pressing soft kisses along your jaw, up to your ear. “Give it to me every day, and it's still so wet and tight for me, fucking hellll.”

You keened at his praise, biting your lip harshly as his pace quickened. Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, thighs squeezing as you pulled him deeper inside you until you were so close you were getting shoved into the headboard with each thrust.

“Ah, bab-uh! Right theree,” you whined, back arching as he hit that spot with precision, his thick head shoving against your g-spot like it was second nature. He knew your body inside out, and still, every time felt like a new fucking discovery.

Jungkook grunted lowly, his lips hovering by your ear as he thrust deeper, harder. “Right there, baby? That’s my spot, isn’t it? Feels so good when I fuck into it like that, huh?”

Your nails dug into his back as you whimpered, completely at his mercy. The slamming of the headboard against the wall was so loud but you couldn't care less. “Yes, yes, fuck, baby, that's yooourr fucking spot, uuh! Fucking take it, baby, godd!"

Jungkook groaned, his hips snapping faster, rougher, each thrust more desperate as he pounded into you. “I will,” he promised, possessiveness dripping from every word. “And you’re gonna give it to me, right, baby? Gonna beg me for it?”

“Please, baby, take it,” you cried out, your legs tightening around his waist. “Take it all, it’s yours. Just fucking take it.”

His hand gripped your hip hard, anchoring you in place as he slammed into you over and over again. He shifted you down a little so your head wasn't slamming into the headboard and his free hand slid down to rub over your slippery clit.

"Whose is it, huh? Who does this dirty fucking pussy belong to? Tell me.”

“You,” you sobbed, your body trembling beneath him, the pressure building in your core so quickly you could barely think. “It’s yours, baby. All y-yours.”

“Say my fucking name when you come,” he demanded, “and you’re gonna take everything I give you, right, baby? Greedy little pussy’s gonna suck up every drop of my fucking load. And you’re gonna hold it in there until I’m ready to turn you into a mama.”

You came so fucking hard.

It hit you all at once—your release crashing through you, your body shaking violently as a broken scream ripped from your throat, nails digging so deep into his skin you knew you’d leave marks.

“Jung—” your breath hitched in a sob “Jungkooookkkk!”

Your body arched into him, every wave of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you limp and trembling beneath him as he kept pounding into you, chasing his own release. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed in your ears, barely drowning out the breathless thank yous tumbling from your lips.

“Good fucking girl,” he praised, his voice strained as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsing as he used you as a fleshlight.

“Gonna be the best daddy,” you cried, legs shaking as you let him abuse your whimpering cunt. “Can’t wait to have your fucking babies. Give you, uh, g-give you as many as you want daddy.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, head thrown back in bliss. “Yeah? Gonna keep popping out babies for daddy until he says you’re done? Gonna let me fuck you so full until it sticks... 'til your belly’s so big you can barely fucking walk, baby?”

You could hear the slick, wet sloshing noise every time he pulled out and slammed back into your pussy, and you swore it was the prettiest sound you’d ever heard.

“Yesss, daddyyy,” you cried out, voice high and desperate. “Please make me a mommy. P-please.”

“Nghhh, fuck!”

With one final deep thrust, he spilled into you, hot and thick, his body trembling as he filled you completely. Your name fell from his lips again as your greedy walls fluttered and clenched around him, eager to milk every last drop of cum from his cock.

But he didn’t stop.

Jungkook’s hips kept rolling into yours, adjusting for a moment at the sensitivity before he sped up, dragging his softening cock against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb was cruel, chasing your swollen clit even as it tried to hide from him.

It was too much, too intense, but you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted—back arching, nails back digging back into his big shoulders, a broken wail spilling from your lips.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, head falling back as the overstimulation consumed you. “I c-can'tttt—”

“Another one," Jungkook growled, his lips brushing over your jaw, kissing you through every ragged breath. “C'mon, my love, you can do it. One more. One more, then you're done, baby.”

And just like that, it hit you—your second orgasm crashing through your body, leaving your toes curling and vision blurring. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking beneath him as he kept grinding, coaxing you through every wave of pleasure until you were trembling, thighs quivering around his waist.

“God, fuck!” you sobbed, clinging to him as the last of your release pulsed through you, squeezing his soft cock tight as he groaned into your neck. You were limp, shaking, but he stayed right there.

You both knew the chance of actually getting pregnant was very slim, thanks to the IUD in your arm, and you weren’t ready for that. You think.

But the breeding talk always turned you both the fuck on, and that 0.9% chance set something dangerous ablaze inside you. The risk, however small, just made it so much hotter.

You let out a content sigh as you crashed back to earth, shaky arms looping around his neck, pulling him down, craving the weight of his body on yours. Jungkook collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, still buried inside you

“Did so good, my baby. Always so good for me,” he cooed, his voice low and soft, as his nose nuzzled gently against your skin, brushing over your collarbone.

A breathy giggle escaped your lips as your fingers threaded through his slightly damp hair. “Thought you said you wanted to be gentle tonight.”

Jungkook hummed lazily against your neck, his lips trailing over your skin with a soft chuckle. “That was gentle,” he murmured, sinking deeper into your warm skin.

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “You’re not wrong,” you replied, your chest still heaving slightly as your hand slid soothingly up and down his back. You felt him smile against your neck, his arms tightening around you, his cock still nestled deep, clearly in no rush to pull out anytime soon.

For a moment, it was peaceful—the sound of your mingled breaths the only noise in the room. Then, Jungkook lifted his head slightly, glancing at the soft glow of your Mac screen. His eyes caught the time, and he let out an annoyed groan, burying his face deeper into your skin.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” you asked, your fingers still threading through his hair as you glanced toward the screen yourself. Your heart dropped when you saw the time.

“You’ve got to be up in, like, three hours,” you mumbled, running your hand down his back, your feet sliding up and down the back of his thighs in an attempt to soothe him.

Jungkook’s body tensed slightly at the reminder, his lips still pressed to your neck. You could feel the irritation in his silence, and your heart sank at the thought of him leaving before you even woke up.

“I’ll make your lunch before I come into work at eight, baby,” you offered softly, your voice gentle as you tried to ease his frustration. “I can bring it up to y—”

“I’m not going,” he interrupted, his voice firm but soft against your skin.

Your heart stilled at his words, and you pulled back slightly, trying to see his face. “What do you mean, you’re not going?”

“I’m not going in tomorrow,” he repeated, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “And you’re not either. We’re staying right here until we both get some real sleep.”

You blinked in surprise. “But—”

“And then,” he cut you off again, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, “we’re gonna wake up, pack your shit, and move into our house.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation.

Jungkook nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile as he leaned down to kiss you pouty lips, his hands brushing back your hair. “Told you, you can’t run from me anymore, baby.”

You grinned against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him deeply, your heart swelling with love.

“I love you so much, my dirty stalker,” you cooed against his mouth, your fingers drifting to trace over your name inked across his chest.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled as his lips pressed softly against yours again, his body relaxing as he breathed you in. “I love you more, my crazy girl."

END.

WOW what a ride!! let me know what you think?? love you 🖤

[froggiewrites]

hi I had another idea for a request! dealer’s choice on the character(s) (but if you’re stuck for an idea maybe law?), but maybe the reader gets hurt in a fight and their (slightly in denial about being in love) future love interest nurses them back to health? can be fluff or smut or whatever you want I’m not picky I just love seeing your words

thank you I still love your work please keep it up

This request is from @toadmakes, on anon since it's her sideblog! I thought this idea was so sweet, so I just made a really fluffy, self indulgent little piece. Also, I let Law be cool last time I wrote about him so of course I had to make him a flustered little nerd in this one. I hope you enjoy it!!

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Law x Reader

SFW

Summary: You get hurt protecting Law, and he's not pleased. Warnings: Fluff, Lots of Banter, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 1.3k

You don’t remember throwing yourself in front of Law, or being carried back to the Tang. You don’t remember the screams of your friends, or the shaking hands that so carefully bandaged you back up. But that’s alright, because they were all too eager to tell you how stupid you had been once you came to.

“–disgustingly irresponsible! Not to mention unnecessary! What good reason could there possibly have been to do that?” Law is the most furious you’ve ever heard him, and you fear it may be because he’s the most scared you’ve ever heard him. You don’t know how close of a call it was, but you know you hurt all over, and his eyes are shining with something someone who didn’t know better might confuse with tears.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You try not to say it like an excuse or a plea. It’s simply fact.

His eyes shoot away from yours. You swear you see a hint of red on his cheeks, but just as quickly as you notice it, it’s gone. He clicks his tongue with displeasure before continuing. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. I could have very easily moved out of the way. You–” he sighs. “Don’t do anything like that again.”

“Well I don’t think I’ll be doing it anytime soon.” You try to give him a wry grin, but it turns more into a grimace as you shift, pain shooting through you. You’re covered head to toe in bandages, every part of you sore and bruised. You’re surprised you’re upright and conscious right now, honestly. “Can I get some painkillers?”

“You’re on enough to take down a horse.”

“But it still hurts.” You pout, and he grits his teeth and looks away from you again.

“Yeah. Almost dying tends to do that.” Even with the gruffness in his voice and face, his hands are gentle as they begin to fuss with your bandages, checking over every inch of you to ensure you’ve been properly taken care of. You could swear he hesitates slightly at checking the bandages around your thighs and chest, but he perserveres, ever the professional. You wince a few times when his hands brush a particularly tender spot, yelping when he makes slight contact with your ribs. He fiddles with the IV in your arm, and you feel a flood of relaxation and relief hit you. Looks like he found a reason to give you more painkillers after all. “You’re going to be out of commission for a long while, y’know.”

“How long?”

“At least six weeks, but probably longer.”

“What?”

“That’s nothing compared to what it could be. You have a couple broken ribs, not to mention all of the cuts and bruises. You’re lucky your organs weren’t crushed.”

“Can’t you like…shambles it away?”

“No.” His voice is flat. You look at him with wide, pleading eyes, and he scoffs at you. “Well, more like I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“If I just fix it you’ll run off and do it again, and next time you might not be so lucky.”

“Oh…so you’re just worried about me?” You giggle, filled with warmth at the idea. And maybe the pain meds. “You could just say so.”

“That’s not–” he lets out a soft choked sound when he realizes there’s no way to deny it without insisting he doesn’t care about you. As grumpy as he can be sometimes, he would never say something so unkind. Not to you. “Shut up.”

“Hey Captain?” You feel your tongue loosening with things you would never say, but you’re too out of it to stop yourself.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me?”

There’s definitely a flush to his cheeks now. “What?”

“I think you like me. A lot.”

“I–No!”

“You don’t like me?” Your voice cracks a little, tears coming far too quickly. Whatever he gave you is powerful stuff.

“That’s not–I–agh!” He roughly runs his fingers through his hair, desperately avoiding eye contact with you. “I like you. As a crewmate.”

You puff your cheeks out a bit with displeasure. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” 

“I’ll believe you if you look at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“You’re looking at the headboard over my shoulder, Captain.”

His eyes flick to yours, and he turns an even more brilliant shade of scarlet. “I li–” His shoulders tense and he suddenly shoots up and turns away from you. “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about this. You’re high off your ass. I bet you won’t even remember this when you wake up tomorrow.” You can see the tips of his ears burning as he gathers his things and prepares to leave.

“You’re gonna abandon me?”

“I have work to do!”

“I’m a patient, I am work!”

His voice is rising with frustration. “You’re already set up, what else is there to do?”

“I don’t know, Captain, I’m not the doctor here!” You try to raise your arm to reach out to him, only to let out a soft whine when you can barely move it.

“Please stop trying to use your broken bones.” He comes closer to gently hold your arm down, concern clear.

“It doesn’t feel broken.”

“It will soon.”

“You’re gonna let me hurt? On purpose? You’re so mean to me, Captain.”

He sighs. His thumb starts rubbing small circles onto your hand, though he doesn’t seem conscious of the action. “If I fix you up, do you promise not to do anything like that again?”

“No.”

The affectionate movements stop. “What?”

“I can’t promise that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m strong, I can take a little pain.”

“But I don’t want you to.” You know you sound petulant and childish, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t want you to hurt at all, I don’t care if you can handle it. You shouldn’t have to.”

“So you should?”

“Yes.”

“That’s stupid.”

You huff. “You’re stupid.”

He can’t help but break into a rare laugh, a chuckle that rumbles through him and makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s lost himself until he looks up to see you staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks red, mouth slightly agape. “What?”

“I really like you, Captain.”

He grows horribly flustered, but for once he doesn’t pull away from you. He keeps looking you in the eye, even as every part of him screams to run and avoid his embarrassment. “You do?” His tone is heart-wrenchingly hopeful.

“I do. So, so much. You’re the most beautiful and wonderful person in the world.” You can feel your smile grow dopey and lovesick. “I’d take a million hits for you. A billion, even.”

“What if it’d make me happier if you didn’t take any hits at all?”

“Then I would say you shouldn’t have let me join your crew. Getting hit is part of the job. But that’s okay. You’re worth it.” You lean forward, begging him for a single touch, since you currently can’t lift your arms. You can feel your eyes drooping, but you fight to keep them open long enough to receive what you want.

He sighs, but you can see the affectionate smile creeping onto his face. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, resting a hand against your cheek so tenderly you could weep. “Get some rest. I’ll fix you up in the morning.”

You hum as he uses his palm to gently push you back down, his other hand on your shoulders to recline you slightly. You’re fading fast, finally losing your fight with sleep, but before you go, you swear you feel the ghost of his lips against your forehead.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[verstappenverse]

What We Never Said

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max Verstappen, your best friend, has always been a constant in your life. But when jealousy surfaces over a recent date, it stirs emotions he hadn’t quite confronted. Is there more between you two than just friendship?

1.9k words / Masterlist

Max had always been good at keeping his cool. On the track where everything is measured in tenths of a second and a moment’s hesitation can cost everything, keeping a level head was what set him apart from the others. But lately away from the track something had been gnawing at him, disrupting his usually unshakeable focus.

It wasn’t new this feeling it had been there for a long time, simmering quietly beneath the surface. Max knew that. He was painfully aware of it in every shared glance, every late-night conversation, and in the way your laugh could instantly pull him out of his darkest moods. For years you’d both kept things easy, uncomplicated, two best friends never crossing the invisible line that tethered you close but never too close.

At least that’s how it was supposed to be.

It wasn’t until a few nights ago when he overheard a casual comment at a party that Max realised how fragile that balance really was.

“I didn’t know you’d gone on a date,” your friend had said her voice light and teasing.

Max wasn’t eavesdropping intentionally he had been halfway through a conversation with another driver when the words hit him like a punch to the gut. He barely registered what was being said to him after that. His attention had been locked on you, watching the subtle shift in your posture as you casually replied.

“Yeah,” you said, like it was nothing. “We went for dinner and drinks, it was really nice...he was nice.”

Max’s hand had tightened around his drink. Nice. The word grated against Max’s nerves. The conversation around him faded into white noise as his mind fixated on what you hadn’t said, on what you’d kept from him. A date? You’d gone on a date? Since when did you go on dates without mentioning it to him? It felt like the ground beneath him had shifted, like something fundamental had changed, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

For the rest of the evening Max stayed quiet his usual easy-going demeanour replaced by something darker, something more brooding. You didn’t seem to notice or if you did, you didn’t bring it up. But every time he looked at you all he could think about was someone else sitting across from you, someone else making you laugh, someone else getting to know the parts of you that Max had always believed were his to cherish.

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

He thought about it more than he should have over the following days, a slow burn of frustration and confusion twisting in his chest. It wasn’t that he had a claim over you but there had always been something unspoken between the two of you, and hearing about you with someone else, someone who wasn’t him, made it feel like everything was slipping through his fingers.

Max found himself at your door days later, heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of racing. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say only that the unresolved tension between you needed addressing.

The door opened and there you were, smiling like always, the kind that usually made his stomach flip, but today it only made him more tense. “Hey you,” you greeted stepping aside to let him in.

He walked in without hesitation, but his usual ease was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t been able to shake the image of you with someone else. Max had tried to push it down, to convince himself that it was none of his business. You were your own person, free to do whatever – or whomever – you wanted. But the truth was, it did bother him. A lot more than he cared to admit.

He dropped onto your couch more tense than he’d been in weeks. You sat down next to him, your brow furrowing as you picked up on his mood. Max was many things, but unreadable was not one of them. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and right now you could sense the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. His jaw was clenched, and you could see the tension radiating off of him in waves.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, tone light but probing. “You seem… off.”

He wanted to shrug it off, say it was nothing, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t pretend anymore, not with you.

Instead he turned toward you, his blue eyes sharp “Why didn’t you tell me you went on a date?”

Your expression shifted subtly, surprise, then confusion trying to place his tone, “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

A beat of silence passed, Max could hear the faint hum of the city outside your apartment window, but inside, the air felt thick weighted with something unsaid.

“I overheard you the other night,” he continued, his voice rougher than he intended.

You blinked, processing his words. “You overheard?”

Max nodded, watching you closely waiting for some kind of explanation that would ease the knot in his chest. But you just sat there, not defensive, not guilty, just calm.

You hadn’t kept it from him on purpose. In fact you didn’t even think it was that big of a deal. The date had been fine, nice, but nothing extraordinary, certainly not enough to warrant telling Max about it right away.

“It wasn’t anything serious,” you said after a long pause. “Just dinner. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

Max exhaled sharply running a hand through his hair. “And if it had been serious?”

Now you were even more confused. Your eyes met his then, a flicker of something passed between you. “Why does it matter?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Why did it matter? He wasn’t your boyfriend. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he was anymore, except confused. Maybe a little scared. The kind of fear that sinks deep, the kind that makes you realise you’ve been taking something for granted.

“Because it does,” he muttered quietly, his voice tight.

You leaned back slightly, studying him. There was something different about the way you looked at him now, more attuned to whatever was hanging between you. You’d always known that Max was protective of you, but this? This was something else entirely.

“You’ve never cared before,” you said, your voice quieter now, like you were piecing together a puzzle neither of you had fully acknowledged.

Max hesitated then sighed. “Maybe I should’ve.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and they hung in the air, heavier than anything he’d ever admitted to you before.

You didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched, uncomfortable in a way that it never had been between the two of you. And then, after what felt like an eternity you leaned forward resting your elbows on your knees hands clasped in front of you.

“Is that what this is all about? Me going on a date and not telling you?” You paused, your eyes searching his face,“Or is it something else?”

He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Because of course it was something else. It had always been something else. He just hadn’t let himself admit it not until now, not until the idea of you with someone else had thrown everything into sharp, painful focus, and maybe that wasn't fair but he didn't know how he could go back now.

Max stood, pacing the length of your living room his mind racing. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered, though it was a lie. He did know. He just wasn’t sure how to say it, cross the line you’d both been skirting around, to take years of friendship and lay it bare without ruining everything.

“Max,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “Look at me.” You needed to hear him say it. You needed to know if what you felt for him was mutual or if you were reading too much into this.

He stopped pacing but didn’t turn around right away. His fists clenched at his sides, and for the first time in a long time, Max felt completely out of control. It wasn’t like driving where every move was calculated, where he could read the car, the track, the competition with precision. This was messier, rawer, and there was no strategy for it.

Finally, he turned to face you his blue eyes meeting yours. There was no running from it anymore, no pretending that what he felt for you was anything less than what it really was.

“I didn’t like it,” he said quietly, the admission catching in his throat. “Hearing you talk about him… I hated it.”

You didn’t look away but your eyes softened, your expression still guarded.

“Why?” you asked, though your tone told him you already knew the answer.

Max let out a shaky breath. “Because… I’ve always wanted it to be me.”

The confession hung in the air, and for the first time with you Max felt truly exposed, vulnerable. The invisible line between you two, the one he’d always danced around, was gone.

All the emotions you’d been burying for so long, all the feelings you’d tried to convince yourself weren’t there, came rushing to the surface.

You walked toward him slowly, and for a moment, Max wasn’t sure what you were going to say, but when you reached him you didn’t say anything. Instead you just looked at him, really looked at him, like you were seeing him in a way you hadn’t before.

“I’ve always wanted it to be you, too,” you whispered, the words so soft he almost missed them.

“I didn’t want to ruin things between us,” Max continued, “I didn’t want to lose you. But hearing about you with someone else… it made me realise that maybe I’ve already lost you and I didn’t even know it.”

You took a step closer to him your heart pounding in your chest. “You haven’t lost me."

His heart clenched, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, gently cupping your face with his hand. Your skin was warm beneath his palm and for the first time in days the tension in his chest eased slightly.

You didn’t pull away, you stepped closer eyes never leaving his. It was as if all the years of unspoken tension between you had finally come to a head, and neither of you could ignore it anymore.

He leaned in, slowly, cautiously, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. And when his lips finally met yours it was like everything he hadn’t been able to say, everything he’d been holding back for years, poured into that kiss.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, deliberate, a moment stretched out between two people who had spent too long pretending they didn’t want this. Max’s arms wrapped around you as the kiss deepened, but still, there was a softness to it a tenderness that spoke of the years of friendship, of trust.

When the kiss broke, you both stood there inches apart breathing in the moment. Max's hand lingered on your cheek his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“You know,” you whispered, smiling against his lips teasing, “this is probably something you should’ve told me ages ago.”

Max let out a soft laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “Yeah, well” he said, his voice low and teasing back, “I guess this means I can stop pretending I’m okay with you dating other people now," you laughed softly as he smirked "but I wasn’t too worried, everything’s about timing isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, your lips brushing his. “I guess you got it right.”

"Finally," he whispered with a grin, before pulling you into another kiss.

[toruily1]

jerking megumi off.

0.8k

MDNI

standing behind megumi, completely bare from the tips of your toes up to your flushed red neck, letting him guide your hand up and down his cock, teaching you how to please him the way he likes.

he's equally as red, his whole body burning up from embarrassment at the thought of someone seeing him in such a state. if it was anyone else, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea.

but its you, and he'd do anything for you.

so when you came to him with wide eyes and a shaky voice, asking him if he’d teach you to get him off he couldn’t help but say yes, his cock stirring in his pants at the thought of your hand on him, squeezing and—

“a little tighter” he mumbles squeezing your hand. “you’re not gonna hurt me”

you stand on your tippy toes, looking over his shoulder as you tighten the grip you have on him, moving your hand up and down his length.

from this angle you can see everything. from his abs down to his V line and the thatch of black hair that leads towards his heavy cock, sitting firmly in the palm of your hand.

“w-what else?” you question, and the corners of megumi's lips tug up into a small grin at how you sound even more

you chose to ignore the amusement you hear in his tone when he replies, “use your thumb and play with the tip— it’s sensitive”

you can see his fat purplish tip and the string of his sticky white pre that drips from the tip.

at that, your thumb comes up and begins rubbing at the head, smearing the sticky pre down the length of his shaft. megumi sucks in a breath and for a second you think you’ve done something wrong— hurt him somehow and you’re about to let go, but when your eyes flick up towards his face you realize it’s anything but.

you can tell he's into it now, his eyes are hooded, lips parted slightly as moans out for you.

“yeah baby fuckkk— just like that,” he groans, letting his head fall back to lean on your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets you take the reins. the hand on top of yours falls to his side, as you pick up the pace, hand squeezing him just a little tighter.

your thumb moves away from his tip, wanting to take your time, knowing that wasn’t something you could do if he came too fast and from how loud he was getting it was clear he was getting close. he lets out a shudder as the intense pleasure begins to fade slightly, breathing slowing down.

it doesn’t take you long to find a steady pace, hand jerking up and down, every so often applying pressure to his tip that leaves him groaning as bursts of pleasure shoots through him.

he’s practicing leaking pre, leaving your hand sticky with his arousal, making the glide of your hand easier.

after megumi gets his breathing back to normal he takes your hand in his once again.

“I like to have my balls played with.”

his hand guides your further down to his sac and you instantly take it into your hand, squeezing and toying with each of his heavy balls.

megumi moans, his body tensing as he attempts to hold himself back, not wanting to cum too soon. It was a futile attempt, especially with you standing so close to him, your scent radiating off of you and clouding his senses.

the feeling of your body pressed against his, your hard nipples rubbing against his back as you squeeze your legs together, desperately searching for friction to your aching clit as you watch megumi get closer and closer to the edge.

the sounds he's making going straight to your core.

megumi reaches behind him, pushing your legs apart just enough to allow his hand to slip through, calloused fingers instantly finding your sticky clit.

“mmm megu'—” you whine, legs bucking beneath you as he rubs your clit. you don’t even realize your hand has stopped moving, simply holding him in your hand.

“keep goin” he commands, bucking up into your hand and you instantly start to stroke his length once again, going back up to focus on the tip.

“m’close” he murmurs quietly, you feel his dick twitch in your hand. the hand playing with his balls squeeze just a bit tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to have him letting out a long groan, deep and broken when it’s paired with a squeeze to his tip.

“shitttt” that’s all the warning you get before megumi is going rigid against you as thick spurts of cum shoot from his tip, landing on the floor in front of him. your hand continues to stroke him through his orgasm, moving up and down slowly until his hand wraps itself around your wrist, stopping your movements.

[chestersturniolo]

𐌕Ꮤ𐌉𐌔𐌕𐌄𐌃

• inspired by “Robbers” The 1975 •

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

- robber!chris -

warnings; guns, violence

•

“The money didn’t matter. It never had. It was something deeper. This is your world, where nothing else matters but the rush, the chaos, and each other.”

•

The fluorescent lights of the 7-Eleven buzzed above, casting a clinical glow over the empty parking lot. You glance over at Chris, his face hidden behind the balaclava, just like yours. His eyes however are glinting, filled with that familiar, wild excitement. The kind that made your heart race, not with fear—but with thrill. You both had done this before. The money didn’t matter. It never had. It was something deeper. This is your world, where nothing else matters but the rush, the chaos, and each other.

Chris reaches behind you, firmly tapping your ass twice with his gloved hand. it’s your code—two taps. it’s always been that way, a silent message that says it’s time.

Two taps—and the world shifts.

The pit of your stomach churns, but it’s not nerves. It’s adrenaline. You love this feeling. You love him. It’s all a rush, the kind that pulls you closer together every time.

With that, you both start running towards the door. Chris swings it open with you following closely behind, the bell overhead chiming like a death knell. The lone cashier barely looks up before Chris strides over, gun in hand.

“Hands up!” Chris barks, his voice hard and filled with venom. The cashier freezes, his eyes wide with shock. Immediately raising his hands. Not a hero type. Perfect.

“P-please—”

“Shut up” Chris snaps, stepping closer, the barrel of the gun just inches from the man’s face now. “Dont fucking move”

You slip behind the counter, your fingers moving automatically to the register. The familiar click of buttons sends a pulse of calm through you—this part is yours. You’ve done this before, you’ll do it again. Chris handles the heat; you handle the take.

The cashier makes a small, jerky movement, maybe instinctual, but Chris is on him in an instant. “What did I just say?” he spits through gritted teeth, his hand pushing the gun harder against the guy’s head. The man stiffens again, you can feel Chris’s intensity, his anger barely contained, and somehow, it only sharpens your focus.

You get the register open, the cash spilling out in neat stacks. Your hands move fast, grabbing everything in sight, your heart pounding louder in your ears with every second.

“Come on, babe-“ Chris calls over to you, his voice still hard but laced with that twisted sense of pride. “-You got this. Quick and clean.”

You glance up at him for just a second, feeling that pulse, that connection between you two, like this dangerous game is the only place the world makes sense. He shoots you a wink—a gesture just for you, like a promise, like he’s telling you we own this moment.

You stuff the last of the bills into the bag, zipping it up with swiftly. You’re fast, you’re good. And Chris knows it.

“Thats my girl” he murmurs, his voice softer now, only meant for you. It’s like no one else is there. Just you and him in this twisted bubble you’ve created. No consequences. Just the thrill.

The cashier makes a small, pathetic whimper, his body trembling under Chris’s watch. “Please, don’t hurt me—”

Chris growls “You keep y’mouth shut, and I won’t”

There’s a beat of silence, tension thick in the air “Let’s go” you whisper,

Chris backs away slowly, the gun still trained on the cashier, his steps deliberate and controlled. “You remember this-” he says, his voice filled with menace. “-don’t do anything stupid once we’re gone, or you’ll wish you hadn’t”

The cashier nods frantically, too scared to even breathe. Chris shoots you one last glance, that dark look of satisfaction crossing his face as he jerks his head toward the door. You both slip out into the cool night air, your heart still hammering in your chest, the rush of the moment still pulsing through you.

Chris grabs your hand as the two of you start to run, the sound of your feet hitting the pavement syncing up, like the beat of your hearts, like the rhythm of this insane life you’ve built together.

The bag of money swings at your side, you glance over at Chris, and suddenly, he breaks into this deep, wicked laugh—dark and unhinged. It spreads through you instantly, and before you know it, you’re laughing too, the sound wild and uncontrollable. The both of you howling like you’ve completely lost your minds.

You don’t stop running, both of you panting, adrenaline coursing through your bodies.

Once you’re far enough, hidden in the shadows, Chris pulls you close, his breath warm against your neck through the fabric of his mask. “That was perfect-” he whispers breathlessly, his voice full of pride. “-you’re perfect.“

And in this strange, chaotic way, it feels like you are.

~~~~~

You and Chris sit on the worn-out couch, the same one you’ve spent countless nights on. The adrenaline hasn’t faded yet, not completely. It lingers, buzzing under your skin as you empty the bag between you, the crumpled bills spilling out onto the coffee table. It isn’t about the money, but something about counting it afterward feels like part of the ritual, part of the bond.

Chris leans back, his balaclava pushed up onto his forehead now, revealing that grin of his, that wild spark still dancing in his eyes. He watches you as you start organizing the money, stacking it in neat little piles.

“Look at you-” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “-you looked so good out there tonight”

Your hands pause for a second, heat rushing to your cheeks, but you keep counting. There’s no hiding the way your pulse quickens when he talks like that, especially after a job like this. He knows it.

“You should’ve seen yourself-” he continues, his tone both proud and admiring. “-fast, sharp... just like I taught you” His eyes narrow slightly, but there’s a playful gleam in them. “My very own little bandit, huh? movin’through that store like you owned the place”

You glance up at him, biting back a smile. Bandit. It fits. You love how he sees you—fearless, bold, someone who can stand next to him in all this madness. There’s a part of you that craves this chaos, craves the way he looks at you when you’re in the thick of it together. Like you’re both untouchable.

“You’re not so bad yourself-” you reply, leaning back, “-I mean, the way you handled that guy?”

Chris chuckles as he reaches out, his hand gripping your thigh as he leans in a little closer. “You’re the one who keeps me sharp ma—couldn’t do it without you”

His fingers trace lazy circles over your thigh, his touch grounding you, reminding you that this is your world, the one you’ve built together. A world that no one else understands, but that makes perfect sense to the two of you.

You lean in, closing the distance between you, your lips connecting. It’s not just about the crime, not really. It’s about this—this moment where everything feels electric and alive, where nothing else matters but you, him and the wild, reckless freedom that comes with being together.

Chris pulls back just enough to look at you, that grin still plastered across his face. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “You n me, baby. Against the world.”

•

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n - i think this is possibly my favourite thing i’ve written, maybe it’s the raging 1975 fan in me idk, but i love this concept of robber!chris x reader and their twisted relationship/recklessness i think it’s hot as fuck. i’m planning on doing more on their relationship, headcannons, blurbs, more fics etc. lemme know what you think, i hope you enjoyed it!!

r̳̿͟͞o̳̿͟͞b̳̿͟͞b̳̿͟͞e̳̿͟͞r̳̿͟͞!c̳̿͟͞h̳̿͟͞r̳̿͟͞i̳̿͟͞s̳̿͟͞ a̳̿͟͞u̳̿͟͞ l̳̿͟͞o̳̿͟͞a̳̿͟͞d̳̿͟͞i̳̿͟͞n̳̿͟͞g̳̿͟͞….

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST

taglist; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay @sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i @starstrucktyrantinfluencer

[meloyellow236]

The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!

All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Rollo's part is fairly suggestive. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.

Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :)

NRC:

Heartslabyul:  

Riddle Rosehearts - 

My dearest rose, 

You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 

Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 

Yours Truly, 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Trey Clover - 

Prefect, 

Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 

From, 

Trey. 

Cater Diamond - 

Prefect, 

Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 

Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 

- Cay-cay ♦️  

Ace Trapolla - 

Prefect!! 

I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 

Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 

See ya, 

Ace 

Deuce Spade - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how good it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 

I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 

From, 

Duece 

Savanaclaw: 

Leona Kingscholar - 

Herbivore, 

Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 

I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 

- Leona 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

Hiya, Prefect... 

I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 

Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 

If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.

- Ruggie 

Jack Howl - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 

From, 

Jack 

Octavinelle: 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

My Pearl, 

Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 

With Love, 

Azul Ashengrotto 

Jade Leech - 

Dearest Prefect, 

It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 

Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.

Kind Regards, 

Jade Leech 

Floyd Leech - 

Shrimpy!!!!!! 

You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 

I’m going to squeeze you. 

🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 

🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 

I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 

- Floyd <3333333 

Scarabia: 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

Hello!!!!

I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 

Hugs and kisses, 

Kalim Al-Asim 

P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!

Jamil Viper - 

Dear Prefect,

Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 

See you later, 

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore: 

Vil Schoenheit - 

My Dearest Potato, 

I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 

I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 

I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 

Sincerely, 

Vil Schoenheit 

Rook Hunt - 

Trickster, 

Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 

Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 

Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 

Le Chasseur D'Armour 

Epel Felmeir - 

Prefect, 

I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 

Epel 

Ignihyde: 

Idia Shroud - 

Prefect, 

Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 

Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 

- Gloomurai 

Ortho Shroud - 

Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 

♡✧( •⌄• ) 

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 

•ω• 

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 

I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 

Sent To: PerfectPrefect@email.com 

Date: XX/XX/XXXX 

Return Email: orthoshroud2@email.com 

Diasomnia: 

Malleus Dracona - 

My Dearest Child Of Man, 

If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 

Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 

The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 

Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 

Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 

Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)

Beastie, 

Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 

But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 

xoxo, 

Lilia 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

Dear Prefect, 

I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 

Best Wishes, 

Silver 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

HUMAN! 

I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 

Sincerely, 

Sebek Zigvolt  

RSA+NBC: 

Che’nya - 

Prefect... 

When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 

Kitty Kisses, 

Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 

Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)

My Dearest, 

Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 

Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 

Love, 

Neige Leblanche 

Rollo Flamme - (Kinda sugesstive) 

Mon Amour, 

There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 

I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 

I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 

Bonus: 

Checka Kingscholar - 

To Perfect, 

Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•

[ghostykapi]

three against me (the trio's love)

misamo & fem!reader // college au

thank you for @cry4mina for the misamo pictures and for being delulu with me about misamo <3 MISAMOOO

when you said you wanted your college life to be eventful

you didn't expect the universe throwing you three girlfriends, each with their own side of how they got you locked with them

it starts during the first semester of your 3rd year, when you were in a small cafe, getting to a headstart in your pile of homework

it's perfect, a iced coffee by your side, three readings beside you, your laptop on the coffee table in front of you and phone silenced, muting whatever the onslaught of messages nayeon is sending that you can't even be bothered to check

you needed this, you couldn't handled anymore 'dubchaeng babysitting!' when the duo would just make your head hurt with the amount of crazy ideas they had. the change of pace for the day is much welcome, especially knowing that jeongyeon took over with the lure of seeing a band a cafe next university over

it's nice, you can feel like you are in control for even just for a bit

then the cafe's noise dies down when the door chimes

it's too silent

fuck.

you brace yourself at the trio, who’s presence can make the entire student populous go on their knees. the mere whisper of their little group brings the entire college either trembling

misamo.

you can feel her gaze land on you, despite the only indication that it is one of them without looking is the whispers within the cafe. even the baristas know them

hirai momo. softball player, the star athlete that brings medals and more recognition to your university. average grades, stellar performance when she steps on the field and can land a nasty punch

with each step you hear her take, the more you have to remind yourself not to look. you can hear her giggles and the way your heartbeat is now in your ears

minatozaki sana. influencer and model, the unspoken leader of their group. through her bubbly and charming personality, she uses her wit to become the face of the university. part of the top 10% of the whole university, the inspiration to study hard and diligently

you feel a hand on your shoulder, the firm grasp rendering you unable to move, yet it's how you know who it is. she hums in delight at your sharp intake of breath, knowing that you don't need anything else to tell her apart

myoui mina. rising entrepreneur of 3 different business ventures, the deadliest one from the trio. always calculating, always 10 steps ahead of her peers and competitors. sweet, kind, and demur, she brings class to whatever she does

that includes sitting beside you, her bag gently landing on the table, your proximity leaves the others questioning your relationship, but all you know is that you must have done something at your shared class with her yesterday for her too approach you

"i hope you don't mind" she starts, eyes confident and you want to scream and cry because she's wearing a suit. typically worn when she's fresh from visiting one of her businesses. "i heard you were well versed in code"

"programming is my major yes" you keep your voice leveled, after all, being a woman in such a male dominated course has made you what your flock of admirers say, freezingly cold.

"i have a proposition for you" mina starts, keeping a dangerous game of who can keep the eye contact going "you help me with homeworks and projects while i give you money per assessment made"

while mina has a fair share of students that matched her energy, something in your gaze makes her crack a bit

"what makes you think i'll say yes?"

"you can't say no to me"

"yes i can. here watch i'll say it"

and mina can't deny it when she feels her heart start to race when you get closer to her. faces barely a few inches apart

"i don't do things for money. so no"

and you pull back, ready to put back to attention to your homework when mina speaks up

"every time you have to help me i'll pay you in food"

oh goodness free food

"ok i'm in" you hum, hands typing away on your laptop "we start in two days, send me an address and i'll met you there myoui. now shoo, i have to catch up to my work"

she stares at you with a blank gaze, but inside she's dumbfounded at your boldness

nevertheless, she stands up to leave you be, but before she's out of earshot, she says something you don't quite catch

"what?" you ask

"you should call me mina. myoui is too professional even for my taste dear"

three days later, it's momo who bugs you after your morning class

she slips up right beside you, the lack of dress code in the university gives momo a chance to wear a body hugging pink dress, something that makes everyone go crazy. what you don't like is how every guy is looking at her in ways you want to pluck their eyes out

filthy bastards don't deserve to gaze at her at all

"momo" your ears are red because everyone can clearly see you both in the halls, her arm around your waist as you slowly walk to the next building for your next class "what are you doing?"

"accompanying you to class" momo won't admit it, but ever since mina said you were, in her words, 'pretty and sufficient', she had to see you

"why?" you ask, glaring at every man who's looking at her too creepily, making them scurry away

"just because, plus our classrooms are right beside each other" she relaxes more with each less man in the hall, you notice it

"fine" you huff, and before she can even say anything else, you remove your jacket, giving it to her "wear this for today, i don't want any man to look at you. you're too gorgeous for them"

the rest of the walk is silent on the way to both of your classrooms. only thing you can hear is the squeak of every sneaker from each man running way and the whispers in between students

it's the most peaceful walk momo has had since becoming star athlete

so when you wave at her from the door before disappearing to go to the classroom beside her's, she feels like she can breath without panicking

she hates taking anything math related, but she might bare it more when she knows your beside her classroom

she's hooked

later that afternoon, while you lounge around the student council office sipping a red bull, someone barges in, scaring your team who's having a heated debate on who should the rest of the papers

"fucking jesus who the fuck-" ryujin is silenced from who she sees at the door

minatozaki sana, the ever persistent and one of the most notable member under the team of the president.

"someone sent you flowers?"

not a question you were expecting, even your team is gawking at her

dressed to perfection, you can't catch her in a regular outfit at any point, which is kind of ridiculous. sana doesn't care, always styled like she's going to a fashion week in europe. today she's wearing that white dress that she just wore in her feature in some magazine

what is it with the trio and wearing designer clothing every time they are at university grounds? specifically when they are within your eyesight

"pardon?" you know the amount of admires that still try despite cold rejection, even hailing from different courses. hell you think someone from the university over sent you chocolates once, you gave it to your team though

"did you accept some stupid boy's flowers?" sana repeats, anger in her eyes, an emotion she barely shows, and possessiveness in her body language, something you see glimpses of when someone gets close to mina and momo that she doesn't approve of

"minatozaki you know i don't do that" you say calmly, your team in awe at how you keep a calm attitude "if the suitor doesn't have the guts to face me, then they do not deserve my limited time"

"then you'll entertain if i do right?"

you can hear felix and lily choke over their pizza behind you

"you are not serious" you look at her like she's crazy (she loves being called that, you learn from mina later on)

she gets closer to you, faces barely an inch apart, any slip up from her leaning way to closer over your table and she can just kiss you

"try me, i'll see you at tomorrow's meeting miss vice-president"

when she leaves the office, it takes you and your team a total of 5 minutes to recover

"jesus what the fuck was that"

"ryujin shut up, go back to bickering with lia"

no one has ever said no to the trio

maybe a few people had

they're just not as pretty, charming and confident as you

maybe that's why mina keeps sitting beside you during your shared programming class even oustide 'tutor' hours, why momo's insistent at being beside you in between periods to carry your items on days your classes line up, and why sana shows up in every weekly meeting with an expensive gift or a trinket, challenging each suitor head on.

women like them are gonna be the death of you

"you have some crazy women that like you" jihyo jests beside you, giggling at how sana is glaring daggers at how close you both are. you both are now taking a break along with the rest of the internal team to finalize some papers

"yeah well" you don't like to admit it, but ever since their persistence to always either be near you, you have been starting to crack bit by bit "can't really escape them y'know"

"i think you would look cute with them" jihyo hums, swinging her pen between her fingers, making someone across the table keep her stare at the president "misamo and their girlfriend who sucks ass at karaoke"

"ok that was one time" you huff, jihyo's snickering makes sana look up from her phone, jaw tensing up at how close jihyo is "clearly i let you win because you liked it when tzuyu said she's treat you out if you win right?"

that shuts her up. the said tall woman is at the other side of the room, watching the president's face get red, wondering what you just said to make her like this

"get back to work" jihyo then shoos you away, your laughter making jihyo flip you off before returning to work for herself

before you cam even return to work, your eyes meet sana's, her expression unreadable. you wonder what she's thinking of

you look away, a light blush on your cheeks from her intense stare, busying yourself once more with the papers

to sana, witnessing your smile and laughter rewires her brain, heart pleading with her to speed up whatever this stage the three of them are in. each day that passes drives the three of them crazy

mina is messing up in her calculations, momo is missing her shots and sana is losing her composure on the daily

she needs you. they need you.

when sana heads home that night she keeps thinking about you. even when she lets her girlfriends debate what their late night dinner should be (mina wants tacos, momo is craving for some pasta). she blurts out in the middle of it

"do you think y/n would say yes if we offered her sushi as a late night dinner?"

the two stop at their bickering to look at sana, who's eyes are begging for the next move. she's getting itchy and desperate to make it

"satang" mina reaches out to her, letting sana wrap her arms around her waist as momo hugs them both "did something happen?"

"it's just" sana doesn't even try to hide it at this point, knowing that the three of them are nearing their breaking point "i saw her laugh today and it really made me think that 'i want to make her laugh with us' and i-i don't know but it has been driving me mad"

mina hums in understanding and momo speaks up, ready to take that push

"then let's go"

staying late even after meetings is normal for you to catch up with the papers, but for the past few days, you have been staying late in the office to busy your thoughts

mina hasn't been looking at you in the eye or been acknowledging you

momo hasn't been accompanying you to class

sana hasn't shown up to a single meeting this past two weeks

trying to silence your head, you decided to throw yourself into your extra curriculars every night. this night, you are working alone, the only sounds that you can hear are your aggressive typing on your poor keyboard, the music coming from your small speaker and the voices in your head making your heart ache

and now a knock and the door swinging open

"if you have any concerns please drop them by our social media accounts, email, or even the drop box by the-"

you stop your next words when you look up

mina.

you want to curse at the woman, for deliberately avoiding you. it was worse with her, because at least with the two you didn't have the urge to scream because they simply did not show up.

momo.

even clad in that handsome suit, she's still wearing that jacket you handed over to her. devastatingly handsome and gorgeous, you wonder why did she have to leave you wondering in the noisy university halls

sana.

meetings are still the same, but jihyo keeps on asking why your eyes have been straying, always going back to the door. waiting for that laugh to annoy you, waiting for a snarky remark to any stupid men flirting with you, waiting for anything from her

you really want to throw a chair at them for just showing up now and pissing you off

you don't though, because you missed them

each in their own suit, each with their own gift, each one with a nervous smile that no one will ever see, each one wearing their hearts up their sleeves, and each with the same question you didn't know you wanted to hear until now

"we like you. would you like to go out with us? dinner tomorrow night, our treat"

you can't say no

"you guys are horrible at courting. pick me up at 7"

bonus:

in every first date you've been on, you never come over to your dates home. that changes and ends with them

"hirai" you're trying to keep your breath stable as her hands are playing your hair. eyes hazy, but clearly on you, her self control out the door, just like yours

"myoui" she's behind you, her hands on your waist, murmuring what she's been thinking about for the past days. it's all you, and it makes you melt

"minatozaki" you let her kiss you, silencing your worries and doubts, silencing anything that makes you question them. the heart finally getting what it wants

"you my love, deserve to be ours"

[hotgirlssupportlando]

one day x lando norris pt 4

this is a part of my series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and lando's lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. ofc not a smooth ride with some angst and fights along the way. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. read first part here pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of this part: y/n attending lando's first home race in f1, but her expectations weren't really met warnings: kinda sad :( wc: 1,4k a/n: probably a couple of sad parts now in this series but bear with me!! a one day -series can't only be rainbows and butterflies hehe

summer of 2019

Silverstone Circuit, England

y/n was beyond excited getting her invite from lando to attend his first ever home race in f1. she couldn’t believ that the random boy she had met a few years ago now was one of the top twenty drivers in the world. seeing her best friend advancing in the sport truly made her proud, who would’ve thought he’d be going this far? since day one she had always supported her friend both on track and at distance, nowadays most through late night facetime calls as she was still in Edinburgh studying and Lando traveling all around the world. 

however, now after being months apart the pair would finally meet again and oh my, was she excited!! she couldn’t help but smile sitting in the taxi on her way to silverstone, headphones in listening to her and landos shared playlist. she fiddled with her mclaren paddock pass that already, proudly, was hanging around her neck, closely reading (for maybe the hundredth time) that all the personal information was correct, it would be just typical lan to spell something wrong and causing her trouble. as soon as the paddock pass had arrived in the mail at her uni dorm she had started planning her outfit, carefully picking out clothes and accessories that would perfectly match the colours on the pass. as the self-conscious being she was, she wanted to be prepared, not wanting to make a fool of herself or lando by turning up as a girl who didn’t look like she belonged there.  

now she was sat stroking her new white dress, contemplating whether it was too boring or too much, and what would lando think, would he like it? and why didn’t she take the other dress instead, it would have looked much better! her mind was racing, overthinking every little thing that came to mind and her worries quickly aggravated looking outside the cab window at all the beautifully looking fans that stood waiting outside the paddock hoping to see their favourite drive appear from one of the taxis. oh well, she thought, there’s nothing i can do about it now. she took a deep breath before exiting the car, shyly walking toward the entrance where she blipped her paddock pass and quickly rushed away headed towards the big mclaren sign in the distance. overwhelmed by the situation she just wanted to see lando, knowing that his presence would calm her nerves.

after some walking she finally arrived at the mclaren hospitality, almost immediately spotting jon, lando’s trainer. ”hi we’ve only seen each other through facetime but i’m y/n l/n, landos friend”, she said approaching jon. ”oh hello, i thought i recognized you from somewhere!” he smiled, ”you’re probably looking for lando?”. y/n nodded smilingly. jon looked around a bit worried, telling her that he should be here somewhere but that his schedule had been a bit hectic this race day morning. she was offered to wait in the hospitality while jon was gonna go tell lando that she had arrived. with a good mood she went and grabbed a tea, sitting at a table that overlooked mclaren’s part of the pit lane. 

after scrolling a bit on her phone and texting her friend, she saw in her periphery, more specifically in the garage, a familiar looking boy. he was giving some fangirls a tour around the garage, letting one and one test sit in his car. he looked so happy, being in his element. after a short while jon approached lando, and by his lips y/n could read something about her arrival. landos reaction was cute, he seemed excited that she was there but didn’t seem ready to come meet her just yet. y/n was just glad she had seen him at a distance and didn’t mind waiting for some time longer, she had already waited several months so what harm could another hour do?

if it only had been an hour or two or even three.. patiently she sat waiting, looking at the clock seeing it was nearly time for race preparations. nope, she thought, if she wanted to see him she would need to take it into her own hands, and that’s what she did. confidently she walked the same route she had seen jon take to the garage and after getting lost a couple times she found a visitor friendly spot. at the same place other high paying fans were stood looking at the team doing their pre race preparations. lando, as the kind boy he was, of course greeted the fans and let them take pictures with him. shortly after he spotted y/n who stood with a huge smile and open arms to greet him in an usual hug, but she wasn’t met by the same excitement. a rather cold and quick hug was what she got, from a boy that felt unexpectedly unfamiliar. a bit caught of guard by the reception and embarrassed by the amount of people that had seen this awkward encounter she felt like running far away. somehow she managed to still ask lando if their agreed meetup after the race was still on, to which she received a short ”yeah, sure”. 

stunned from the whole situation she went back up to the hospitality and watched the race in some kind of haze. wtf was that? she didn’t have to be here, lando was the one that invited her there, didn’t some good old kindness include in that package? presumably not then. her thoughts wandered, shocked that the boy she had known for years abruptly was someone totally else, just because they weren’t alone, the two of them, as they usually was. or was she overreacting? maybe it wasn’t that bad. or maybe this was her fault? she could’ve put a bit more makeup on and change the dress so that she would’ve been prettier, maybe that was the problem, that she wasn’t as pretty as the other girls in the paddock. 

in the middle of her overthinking someone patted her on the shoulder making her jump of fear out of her seat. ”sorry sorry sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you” a familiar voice half laughed, half tried to sound serious. she turned around meeting a pair of kind brown eyes, it was carlos sainz she remembered, lando’s teammate. ”are you waiting for someone?” he asked. y/n looked at the clock, it was late, somehow she had been thinking about her own problems so long that she hadn’t noticed that the race was done ages ago and that the other hospitality guests had gone home. ”oh yeah, i was waiting for lando, he’s my friend, but i guess he has forgotten about me.. again” y/n said not covering her disappointment very well. carlos smiled compassionately, like he understood, ”i’m sorry.. i remember when i was new to f1, everything’s so new and exciting that sometimes the one’s that has been with you from the start gets left behind..”. ”well, thats assuring” y/n laughed quietly as she felt her eyes tearing up. ”noo sorry, y/n was it? i didn’t mean to upset you, what i meant to say was that in the beginning you get kind of caught up in the fame and girls running after you, but when you settle in to the sport you sooner or later understand who the real one’s are” he said and gently hugged you afterwards. y/n sniffled after the hug ”well i hope so.. this wasn’t at all what i expected from this day” she sighed walking towards the door out of the hospitality. ”i’m certain he will come around, some new drivers take more time than others to realize that all the new attention is just empty and fake, nothing that can compare to a girl that waited the clock around to hopefully see her friend” he smiled trying to cheer y/n up. a small smile cracked on her face as she thanked him whilst they walked out of hospitality together. 

they didn’t have to walk very far before she heard lando’s familiar laugh, y/n turning around to spot lando in the distance, flirting with some very beautiful girls, noticing how he didn’t have a thought in the world about his old friend. she felt her heart sink and eyes tearing up again, was she really that forgettable? if anything, it only confirmed all her self-conscious thoughts. carlos that was walking beside her noticed the same as her and immediately connected his eyes with y/n’s, giving her a compassionate look while hugging her from the side. ”don’t you worry darling, remember my words”

_____

taglist

@amberpanda99 @phantomxoxo @landossainz @chezmardybum @lan4cha16 @tvdtw4ever @starlit-skiessss @dorothea47

[itneverendshere]

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (four)

requested here; (one); (two); three

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(the duff inspired) word count: 5k

Why did it feel like his stomach dropped out his ass when Nate showed up? 

It wasn’t like he actually expected you to choose him over Nate. The guy was practically perfect—your textbook version of what a guy should be. Clean, nice, predictable. The opposite of him.

But watching you hesitate like you were weighing your options right in front of him? That hurt like a bitch and he hated how much it did.

He couldn’t shake that look in your eyes.

Like you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. While every time you were around, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. It’d been like that since the beginning, even back at that party when you tossed your drink in his face after he called you that stupid fucking name. He could still remember the way you glared at him, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing. He’d been a cocky little shit, sure, but that fire in you? It hooked him.

Yeah, he liked messing with you. Always had. But lately, it didn’t feel like just messing around anymore. It felt different. It felt like he was doing it because he didn’t know how else to get close to you.

And now Nate was here, acting like he had some claim. Offering you lunch like it was some kind of test. Rafe should’ve laughed it off. Should’ve let you go. But instead, he was standing there, watching the whole thing go down, and all he wanted to do was grab you by the hand and pull you out of there. Away from Nate. 

Away from all this... bullshit. There he was, full-on spiraling because of a girl. Because of you.

He knew he was developing feelings, had been knowing, which terrified him because it was unfamiliar territory—he was used to being in control and suppressing emotions, not feeling vulnerable or emotionally attached.

Because maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to be the guy you rolled your eyes at anymore. Maybe he was done playing the part of the asshole who didn’t give a fuck. 

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Rafe walked faster, trying to shake off the feeling. But he knew. It was the way you laughed when you were around him, even when you were annoyed. The way you always gave as good as you got. The way you’d looked at him today—like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as immune to him as you tried to be.

You were off having lunch with Nate.

The safe choice. And if there was one thing Rafe Cameron wasn’t? It was safe. And maybe, deep down, he hoped that was the reason you wouldn’t be able to walk away from him for good.

He kept walking, his footsteps loud in his head, like each step was trying to drown out the voice that was screaming at him to turn around. To go back and say something. Anything. But he didn’t. He wasn’t that guy. Not the one to chase after someone, to make a big scene. No, he was the one who sat back, arms crossed, and watched the whole thing play out like it didn’t bother him. Like it wasn’t tearing him up inside.

Rafe realized he was pissed. Not at Nate. The guy was just playing his part. But at you. No, not really at you either. He was pissed at himself. For letting things get this complicated. For letting you get under his skin the way you had.

It wasn’t like you were his. It wasn’t like he had any right to be jealous.

But damn, the way Nate had just swooped in like it was nothing, like it was so obvious you’d say yes to him. The dude barely had to try, and there you were, actually considering it. Maybe you even wanted him to. He stopped walking, running a hand through his hair, trying to clear his head. 

Screw this. He needed to get out of here, away from the whole situation. Maybe blow off some steam, hit the gym, or go for a drive. But the thought of you sitting there with Nate, laughing, maybe even flirting—it was enough to make his jaw clench.

What if you were actually into that guy? What if all this back-and-forth with him was just... nothing to you? Some game you were playing because you liked the attention, but when it came down to it, you’d always pick someone like Nate?

If you picked Nate, fine. But if there was even a part of you that was feeling the same thing he was—if there was even a chance you weren’t as over him as you pretended to be? He wasn’t going to let you walk away that easily.

Not without a fight.

Rafe dug his phone out of his pocket, stared at the screen for a second. He could text you. Could hit you with some sarcastic line, ask how lunch with Captain America was going, but it felt... small. Petty. And, honestly, he didn’t want to come off as that guy—the jealous, insecure type. But not doing anything felt worse, like he was just letting things slip through his fingers.

He leaned against a nearby fence, staring off into the distance. Part of him was waiting for some kind of sign. Like maybe you’d ditch Nate and text him instead. Maybe you’d realize that this whole thing with Nate was boring, that you needed something more. 

Or maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d laugh and smile at Nate’s predictable jokes, and that’d be it. You’d pick the guy, the one your friends would probably approve of. The one who didn’t make you feel like you were on a rollercoaster every time you were around him.

Rafe kicked the fence post. He hated this. Hated feeling out of control, like someone else was calling the shots. Like you were making choices that didn’t involve him.

And yet, there he was. Waiting.

He was about two seconds away from hurling his phone into the bushes when it buzzed in his hand. His heart actually stopped for a second. No way. There was no way.

He glanced at the screen, and there it was—your name, lighting up his phone.

Every instinct told him to play it cool. Let it ring a few times, don’t seem desperate. But his hand moved on its own, thumb swiping across the screen before he could stop it. He brought the phone up to his ear, heart hammering in his chest, trying to sound normal.

“Yeah?” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, like he wasn’t dying inside.

And just like that, everything else—Nate, the frustration, the whole stupid back-and-forth—faded into the background. Because right now, you were calling him.

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

Lunch with Nate was proving to be exactly what you expected: normal. easy. boring.

He talked about his classes, his weekend plans, asked you a couple of questions about your own. And you answered, smiling, nodding, doing all the things you were supposed to do. But your mind? It was somewhere else entirely.

It was with Rafe. With the way he looked at you before he left, like he was daring you to stop him. Like maybe he wanted you to say something, anything, to keep him from walking out. And as much as you tried to ignore it, that little flutter in your chest hadn’t gone away.

“So, how’s studying going?” Nate asked, pulling you back to the conversation.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s fine. Just... a lot,” you mumbled, forcing a smile.

Nate raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the fact that you weren’t all there. “You sure? You seem a little distracted.”

You hesitated, your mind flashing back to Rafe. To the way he’d been so close to you during your study session, leaning in like he had every intention of pushing your buttons. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he’d talked about the bonfire, about seeing you as more than just someone to mess with. And for the first time, it felt like maybe Rafe wasn’t just a flirt. Maybe he was actually trying to tell you something.

“I’m fine,” you lied, stabbing at your sandwich with way too much enthusiasm.

But you weren’t fine. Not even close.

You knew why. Sitting here with Nate, everything felt... off. It was like you were trying to make this picture-perfect version of your life fit, but the edges weren’t lining up. You were supposed to want this—supposed to be happy that the guy you’d been into for months was finally showing interest. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About the way your heart had sped up when he looked at you, the way his voice dropped when he was being serious, when he wasn’t hiding behind that smirk.

God, why couldn’t you stop thinking about him?

Nate cleared his throat, snapping you out of it again. “You sure you’re good? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

You bit your lip, nodding, but it was like the words were stuck in your throat. “Yeah. Just... got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Like how you might’ve just let Rafe walk away.

Nate didn’t push it, and part of you was relieved. The other part? It was screaming at you to stop pretending. To be honest, at least with yourself. Because the truth was, as much as you wanted to want Nate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Rafe was the one you should’ve been sitting with right now.

And that scared you. Because choosing Rafe meant choosing chaos. It meant diving headfirst into something that had no guarantees, something that could blow up in your face. But it also meant feeling alive. Because with him, everything was more intense. More real.

As you and Nate left the sandwich shop, walking back to campus, you couldn’t help but glance around, half-expecting to see Rafe somewhere. But he wasn’t there. He was gone, and now you were stuck wondering if maybe you’d just made a huge mistake.

Nate smiled, oblivious to the storm inside your head. “So, you wanna do this again sometime?”

Your heart sank a little at the question. Because the answer should’ve been a yes, no hesitation. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About how you wished you were with him, laughing, arguing, feeling that electric tension that seemed to hang in the air whenever he was around.

You swallowed, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

But as the words left your mouth, you knew you were lying.

And Nate, being Nate, didn’t seem to notice. He was still smiling, probably thinking the lunch went fine, like everything was falling into place just the way he thought it should. But you? Your mind was miles away, stuck on other guy and the way he’d left without looking back.

You felt like you should say something to him, like you should be more present in the moment, but every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out. 

Did you really want Nate? Or had you just been chasing the idea of him this whole time because it was easy, because it was safe? Because he was the kind of guy you grew up thinking you should be with?

But then there was Rafe. And the more you tried to push him out of your head, the more he stayed there, taking up space, making everything with Nate feel... dull in comparison.

“So, I was thinking,” Nate said, breaking the silence, “Maybe we could check out that movie this weekend? You know, the one you mentioned a while back?”

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, trying to focus. “Oh. Yeah, maybe.”

But the truth was, you didn’t care about the movie. You didn’t care about any of it right now.

“Hey, you okay?” Nate’s voice snapped you back again, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You plastered on a smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Just... distracted, I guess.”

 “Well, if you’re busy this weekend, we can always reschedule.”

“I’ll let you know,” you replied, hoping he wouldn’t push it any further.

Nate nodded, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. And honestly?

Neither were you.

By the time you made it back to your dorm, you were mentally exhausted. Nate had left with a casual wave and a promise to text you later, but as soon as he was out of sight, you let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone like a fucking idiot. But no messages came in, no missed calls from Rafe or anyone else. It was just you, sitting there, replaying the whole afternoon in your head.

Why did everything feel so wrong with Nate? He was supposed to be the plan. He was supposed to be your choice. The easy, right choice.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your heart jumped in your chest as you glanced down, half-expecting it to be Rafe. But it wasn’t. It was Nate, sending a follow-up text about the weekend plans.

You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the keyboard.

What were you doing? Why were you still holding onto this idea of Nate when your heart was clearly somewhere else? Somewhere messy, complicated, and... dangerous.

Before you could stop yourself, you closed out of Nate’s message and opened Rafe’s contact. Your thumb hovered over his name for a second before you hit "Call."

The phone rang once. Twice. Your heart pounded in your chest as the seconds dragged on. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should just hang up before he—

“Yeah?” Rafe’s voice came through the line, a little gruff but unmistakable.

You froze for a second, suddenly unsure of what to say. But then you took a deep breath. “Hey, uh... you busy?”

There was a pause, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “What, finally realizing Nate’s not as fun as you thought?”

 “Something like that.”

There was a beat of silence, and you thought maybe he was going to tease you some more. But then his voice softened, just like it had earlier. “You wanna meet up?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. I think I do.”

Another pause, and then: “Same spot?”

You knew exactly what he meant. The library, third floor, in the corner where you’d been studying. You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“See you in a few.”

And just like that, the line went dead. What had you just done? 

You hung up, heart racing like you’d just agreed to do something you weren’t supposed to. But wasn’t that the whole point? This thing with Rafe—it was unpredictable, messy, and completely off-script. 

As you grabbed your jacket and headed out the door, you couldn't help but feel like you were crossing some kind of line. With Nate, things were clear-cut, easy. But with Rafe? It was like stepping into the unknown. You knew there was a chance this whole thing could blow up in your face, but for once, you didn’t care.

You wanted real. You wanted fire. And right now, that was Rafe.

As you walked to the library, the campus around you blurred, your thoughts spinning back to every moment you’d had with him. Every teasing comment, every cocky grin, every time he’d gotten under your skin without even trying. Maybe you had been pretending with Nate—pretending to want something you were never actually sure about.

But with Rafe? You weren’t pretending. Even when it terrified you.

When you reached the third floor of the library, it was quiet, almost too quiet. Your footsteps echoed as you made your way to the spot you both knew so well. And there he was, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he wasn’t the reason you’d been tied up in knots all day.

You rolled your eyes and crossed the room, dropping into the chair across from him. “Don’t start,” you warned, though the edge in your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be.

Rafe’s grin widened. “What, can’t handle me being right for once?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Right about what? You being a total pain in my ass? Sure, I’ll give you that.”

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand like he was amused by your whole existence. “C’mon, you know why you’re here.”

“So,” you started, trying to act casual, like your heart wasn’t pounding out of your chest. “I guess lunch with Nate didn’t really do it for me.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “No shit. Figured as much.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept up. “Why are you so smug about it?”

“Because,” he said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table, “I knew you’d come back.”

Your breath caught in your throat at how sure he sounded.

Of course he knew. That cocky, self-assured grin of his said it all. He’d been waiting for this moment—waiting for you to realize what he had probably known all along.

And damn if it didn’t piss you off.

You sat down across from him, trying to hold onto the last shreds of your resolve, but it was slipping. Fast. Because the way he was looking at you? Like he was daring you to admit what you were really feeling—it was messing with your head.

“So, what now?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rafe crossed his arms, biceps bulging in his stupid polo, like he was giving you all the space in the world to figure it out. “That’s up to you.”

That’s the thing about him—he could act all indifferent, like he wasn’t bothered, but you could see it. There was something behind his eyes, just barely kept in check. And it wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t just some game to him. Not anymore.

But you weren’t ready to give him that satisfaction. Not yet. 

“What makes you so sure I’m not just here to tell you I’m picking Nate?”

That smirk faltered for just a second. “You’re not.”

You couldn’t be. 

“How do you know?”

“Because if you were, you wouldn’t have called me.”

The way he said it—so simple, so damn certain—made your heart skip. He was right, and you hated that he knew it. Hated that he had this pull on you that no one else ever had. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the truth. Not when it was staring you in the face, wearing a smug expression and leaning back like he had all the time in the world.

“What if I did?” you shot back, still trying to hold your ground.

He shrugged, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Then I guess I’d have to live with that. But I’m not worried.”

Lies.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You’re so damn cocky, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he said with a wink.

You wanted to roll your eyes again, to act like he wasn’t getting to you. But he was. And he knew it.

You rested your elbows on the table, your eyes meeting his. “And what if I told you I wasn’t sure? What if I told you I’m still figuring it out?”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just kept his eyes locked on yours, like he was seeing right through the bullshit. “Then I’d tell you to take your time. Figure it out.”

The way he said it—so calm, so sure—made your stomach twist. He wasn’t asking you to pick him. He was daring you to. Because Rafe didn’t do half-measures. He didn’t do safe. He was all or nothing, and right now? He was putting it all on the table.

All you could think about was the way your heart was hammering in your chest, the way every part of you was screaming that this—this—was what you really wanted.

And that’s when it hit you: you weren’t scared of Rafe. You were scared of how much you wanted him.

“Rafe, I—” You stopped yourself, unsure of where you were even going with that.

His expression softened, just a fraction. “What? What do you want to say?”

You wanted to say everything. That you weren’t just messing with him anymore either, that you couldn’t stop thinking about him, that you were tired of pretending like Nate was some perfect choice when he wasn’t even in the same league. But saying all that? To someone who hurt you so much before?

He had that look, like he knew exactly what was going through your mind but was giving you space to figure it out on your own. But you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure if you were ready to say it out loud. Admitting how much Rafe meant to you felt like letting him win, like handing him all the power. And after everything, after all the back-and-forth, you didn’t want to be that vulnerable. Not with him.

“I know I’ve been an asshole,” he started, almost hesitant. “All those years, the shit I said—it wasn’t right. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that.”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

He ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to figure out how to keep going. “I just... I don’t know. It was easier to push you away, to act like I didn’t give a fuck, you know? Like messing with you made it better somehow. But it didn’t.” He paused, his voice softening. “It made me feel like shit.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You just sat there, staring at him, trying to process the fact that Rafe Cameron—Rafe—was apologizing.

He swallowed, looking down for a second before meeting your eyes again.

 “I know I’m a mess. Hell, I’ve always been a mess. And I get why you’d pick someone like Nate. The guy who won’t make you lose sleep wondering what the hell is going on.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But the truth is, I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up since the beginning. With you, with us. And I hate that I did that." He pushed back slightly, running a hand over his face like he was frustrated with himself. “I’m not good with this... with feelings. With being upfront. But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to figure it out. I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that or trust me after everything I’ve pulled. But I want you to know I’m not the same guy I was back then. It sounds fucking insane, but I’m not. I want to be better. For you. Because, fuck, I don’t want to lose you to some guy just because I couldn’t admit I was scared of this—of us.”

You bit your lip, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.

“And look, I know I’ve made it hard for you to believe me,” he said, his voice softer now, more honest than you’d ever heard him. “But you should know that you’re not just some game to me. Not anymore. You’re... everything I’ve been too afraid to want.”

The guy who spent years acting like nothing could touch him, like he was untouchable, was now sitting across from you, pouring his heart out. And you had no idea what to say.

Your mind was racing. It felt like everything you thought you knew about him, about what you were feeling, was suddenly flipped upside down. You'd always assumed Rafe would never be the guy who’d sit down and admit he was scared of something, especially not scared of you.

But here he was, looking like he was waiting for you to say something—anything.

What? What were you even supposed to say? That you forgave him? That you didn’t? That you were still figuring out how you felt about everything? You weren’t even sure yourself. But you did know one thing—whatever this was—it was real. 

You couldn’t deny that anymore.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know that I’m not going to play around anymore. Not with you.”

Your heart clenched at that. And the thing was, you could see it in his eyes—he meant it. There was no teasing smirk, no cocky attitude. Just him. Raw and real and honest in a way that caught you completely off guard.

And suddenly, you realized that was what scared you the most. Not Rafe, but the way he made you feel. The way he pushed you to stop pretending, to be real, even when it terrified you.

You stared at him, feeling like your brain was short-circuiting. He was spilling his guts to you. It felt... unreal, and you were torn between wanting to laugh and maybe freak out a little.

All you could think was, How the hell am I supposed to handle this? This wasn’t what you were expecting. Not from him.

“So, what,” you started, leaning back a bit, trying to keep your voice casual, “you’re just, like, a totally different person now? Is this the part where you tell me you’ve been secretly going to therapy or something?”

Rafe’s lips twitched, but he didn’t fully smile. “No, not exactly,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But... I’ve been trying to figure shit out. With myself. With us.”

With us. Your stomach did this stupid little flip at that, but you ignored it. “That’s a big statement, Cameron. You’ve had, like, two whole epiphanies and suddenly you’ve got everything figured out?”

He sighed, “I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out, alright? I’m just trying to be honest for once. I’m done screwing around with you.”

His tone was sincere, and as much as you wanted to keep teasing him, the look in his eyes made your throat tighten a bit. You shifted in your seat, your mind running a million miles an hour.

“I mean, I guess that’s an improvement,” you muttered, keeping it light even though your heart was pounding.

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You guess?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a pointed look. “You were, let’s see, kind of a dick for a long time.”

He didn’t argue. “Yeah. I was.”

That caught you off guard. No defense, no excuses. Just... agreement. 

“Okay, so... what now?” you asked, trying to play it cool. “You apologize, and I just forget all the crap from before? You’re really not making this easy,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, but your voice betrayed you, sounding a little too soft.

Rafe shrugged, that little smirk threatening to return. “Didn’t think you wanted easy.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to keep your composure. “You think you know me so well, huh?”

“Better than you think.”

Your heart raced. “Right, because I just love being confused and frustrated. It’s my favorite hobby.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “Well, you could always just admit that you’re intrigued. That might save us both some time.”

“Intrigued? Please. More like I’m questioning my life choices.”

Rafe leaned forward, “Hey, at least it’s not boring, right? I mean, look at us. This is way more interesting than whatever you were doing with Nate.”

You couldn’t argue with that. “True. But interesting doesn’t mean it’s not a total trainwreck waiting to happen.”

“Maybe,” he said, “But it could also mean something different.”

 “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” you said, trying to lighten the mood again. “What’s next? A serenade?”

“Actually, I’m not a bad singer,” he quipped, flashing that trademark grin. “But I think I’ll spare you the performance for now.”

“Wow, I’m overwhelmed by the humility.”

He chuckled softly, “You love it. And you know it.”

There it was again—the way he said things like it was a fact, like he could read you better than you could read yourself. And the worst part? He wasn’t exactly wrong.

“You don’t know everything about me, Rafe,” you said, your voice quieter now, but not weak. 

His smile softened, just barely, like he heard what you weren’t saying out loud. 

“Maybe not everything. But enough to know you’re not here by accident.”

It was easier to blame the pull he had on you. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just him. You were here because something between the two of you, no matter how messy, no matter how confusing, felt unfinished.

You crossed your arms, trying to gain some control of the situation. “You’re awfully confident for someone who doesn’t have all the answers.”

“Not all of them,” he agreed, leaning back in his chair again, “But I know enough to know I’m not letting you go without a fight.”

There it was. That line you didn’t know you were waiting for. The line that said this wasn’t just some flirty game for him anymore. That maybe he was as scared of losing you as you were of admitting how much you wanted him.

And in that moment, sitting across from him, with all his defenses down and no jokes left to deflect with, you realized something terrifying: you weren’t ready to walk away either.

“Well,” you said, your voice softer, “I guess we’ll see if you’re really up for it, won’t we?”

His eyes locked onto yours, something serious flickering there for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. We will.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

PR disaster

Hey guyss, I hope you enjoy this one-shot. Franco is one of my favourite drivers so it was time that I wrote something for him :)

From the moment Y/N was hired as Williams' new PR manager, she knew the job wouldn’t be easy, especially with Logan's departure. Managing a driver's exit was never simple, and controlling the public narrative seemed like her biggest concern. However, she quickly realized that her true challenge came in the form of Franco, the young talent who had taken Logan’s place in the team.

Franco wasn’t just an exceptional driver; he was a whirlwind of energy and charisma. For the fans and the press, he was a breath of fresh air, full of charm and wit. But for Y/N, he was a constant source of headaches. Whether he was flirting with journalists, posting cheeky comments on social media, or creating unnecessary drama, it always ended with her cleaning up the mess.

"Y/N, did you see his latest post?" One of her assistants burst into her office, waving a tablet in the air. Another post. Another reckless comment from Franco.

Y/N groaned. Of course, he couldn’t help himself. She had spent the last week trying to reign him in, explaining time and time again that his social media presence needed to be professional, not a flirt-fest with every reporter and fan that interacted with him.

"This needs to stop," she muttered to herself, standing up from her desk. She stormed through the paddock, her frustration building with every step.

When she found Franco lounging near the team garage, chatting up a group of reporters—no surprise there—she called his name sharply.

"Franco. A word." Her tone left no room for argument.

He flashed his signature grin, excusing himself from the conversation and strolling over to her. "Hey, jefa," he said casually, as if nothing was wrong. "What’s up?"

(Hey, boss)

“What’s up?” she repeated, her voice laced with exasperation. “You’re what’s up. I just had to deal with your latest ‘incident’ on social media—again.”

Franco shrugged, leaning against the wall with an easy confidence that only made her more irritated. "Ah, it was just a little fun. People like it when I’m myself."

Y/N crossed her arms. “Flirting with journalists isn’t being yourself, it’s being reckless. You need to tone it down. This is a professional environment, not… whatever you think it is.”

He raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanour never faltering. "¿Estás diciendo que no te gusta que sea encantador? No puedo evitarlo si soy irresistible." (¿Are you saying that you don't like that I'm charming? I can't help it if I'm irresistible.)

Y/N frowned, her Spanish rusty but enough to pick up on something. "What?"

Franco grinned wider, sensing an opportunity. "Nada, nada," he said, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know, maybe you should try smiling more. You’re always so… serious." He tilted his head, looking her up and down in a way that made her feel like he was studying her every reaction. "Me gusta más cuando te ríes… tienes una sonrisa preciosa, ¿sabes?" (Nothing, nothing) (I like it better when you laugh … you have a beautiful smile ¿you know?)

Her brow furrowed. Okay, that part she definitely understood, and it only made her more determined to get her point across. “This isn’t about me, Franco. This is about you being impossible to manage.”

He leaned closer, his tone dropping just slightly, enough to make her feel the warmth of his presence. "¿Imposible? No, jefa. Imposible sería si intentaras resistirte a mis encantos. Aunque… lo estás haciendo muy bien." (¿Impossible? No, boss. Impossible would be if you tried to resist my charm. Even… if you are doing it well)

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “What did you just say?”

Franco simply smiled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You know, if you want me to be more ‘professional,’ we could… work out an agreement.”

“An agreement?” she asked, wary of where this was going.

He nodded, stepping just a little too close for comfort. “Sí. I’ll behave. No more trouble. But… on one condition.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “And what’s that?”

Franco’s grin turned almost predatory, though still playful. “You go on a date with me.”

Her jaw dropped. "A date?"

"Sí, una cita. You know, dinner, maybe some wine… you can lecture me all you want. But I think you’ll find I’m much better behaved when you get to know me… fuera del trabajo." (Yes, a date) (… out of work)

Y/N could feel her face heating up, partly from the absurdity of the situation and partly because Franco’s intense gaze was starting to get to her. “You’re joking.”

Franco tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “¿Parezco que estoy bromeando, jefa?” (¿Does it look like I'm joking, boss?)

Y/N stared at him, her mind racing. There was no way he could be serious. This was just another one of his games, another flirtatious comment that she needed to brush off. But as Franco stood there, grinning like the cat that got the cream, she realized he wasn’t backing down. His eyes were locked on hers, waiting, full of that infuriating confidence.

“Absolutely not,” she snapped, turning on her heel to walk away. But as she took a step, Franco called after her.

"Well, I guess I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing then… Maybe tweet a little something extra for the fans later."

She froze, clenching her fists at her sides. This man was impossible. She could already picture the chaos his next social media stunt would cause. The endless calls, the damage control, the headaches…

Y/N spun back around to face him. “Fine,” she blurted out, her voice filled with frustration. “You want a date? You’ll get your stupid date. But only if you promise—promise—to behave.”

Franco’s grin widened, looking almost triumphant. "¡Perfecto! I knew you couldn’t resist." (¡Perfect!)

She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms. “This isn’t about ‘resisting,’ it’s about making sure you don’t ruin the team’s reputation. One dinner, and you tone it all down.”

Franco nodded, still smiling like she’d just handed him the world on a silver platter. "You won’t regret it, jefa. I’ll be a perfect gentleman." (boss)

Y/N scoffed, turning away once more. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

As she began walking back to her office, she could hear Franco’s voice calling after her, his tone teasing and undeniably smug. "No te preocupes, jefa. I’ll be on my best behaviour… unless you want me to misbehave a little." (Don't worry boss.)

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small, almost begrudging smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Franco was trouble, and she knew it. But for some reason, as infuriating as he was, she couldn’t help but feel a spark of something… interesting.

Grumpy or not, she’d agreed to the date. And she had a feeling this was only the beginning of whatever madness Franco had in store for her.

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter four of four!

wc. 3.2K

↳ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

The beach house had settled into a rhythm. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi had kept the energy alive with beach games, bad jokes, and playful arguments. Even you had begun to relax, finding moments of peace between the tension that still occasionally surfaced between you and Gojo. But for the most part, the trip was turning out to be just what you needed—a break from everything that had happened, a chance to breathe.

It wasn’t until the third day, when the sun was high in the sky and the others were down by the shore, that Gojo’s phone rang. He was lounging on the deck, sipping something cold, when the shrill sound of his ringtone broke the lazy quiet. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see Shoko’s name flash across it.

He raised an eyebrow but answered, casually leaning back in his chair. “Hey, Shoko. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Shoko’s voice came through sharp and annoyed, a tone Gojo didn’t often hear from her. “Are you out of your mind, Gojo?”

Gojo blinked, sitting up straighter at the edge in her voice. “What’s this about?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then Shoko sighed, her frustration palpable even through the phone. “You know what this is about. You dragged them— her —to your beach house? For spring break?”

Gojo frowned, confused. “Yeah, we needed a break. So what?”

“So what? Gojo, are you seriously that oblivious?” Shoko snapped. “Or are you really trying to make her fall in love with you all over again?”

Gojo froze, the words hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “What? No! That’s not—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure. Was that what he was doing? Was that why he’d invited everyone here? Why he’d made sure you came along?

Shoko’s silence on the other end was damning. She let out a frustrated huff before continuing. “Gojo, you might be the strongest sorcerer in the world, but when it comes to this, you’re clueless. Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting her in the same position she was in before the surgery.”

Gojo stood up, moving to the edge of the deck, his hand running through his hair. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he insisted, though even as he said it, doubt began creeping in. “I just… I wanted to figure things out. With her. With all of this.”

“Figure things out?” Shoko’s voice was laced with disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? She almost died because of how deeply she loved you. And now, after all that, you’re bringing her here, spending time with her like this… What do you think is going to happen, Gojo? She’ll just magically fall in love with you again? And this time it’ll be fine because you’re paying attention?”

Gojo clenched his jaw, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He hadn’t been trying to manipulate anything—he hadn’t meant for this trip to turn into some kind of emotional trap. But now, hearing Shoko lay it out so plainly, he couldn’t ignore the truth.

Was that what he was doing? Trying to pull you back into his orbit, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you’d fall for him again? He hadn’t even realized it, but now that Shoko had said it out loud, it was impossible to ignore.

“I didn’t…” He trailed off, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“No, you didn’t,” Shoko said, her voice softer but still firm. “You’ve never been good at thinking about the emotional fallout, Gojo. And I get it—you’re used to being able to fix things with power or clever words. But this isn’t something you can just fix by inviting her to a beach house.”

Gojo leaned against the railing, staring out at the ocean, his mind racing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t realized how deeply he was still entangled in everything that had happened between the two of you. But now, with Shoko’s words ringing in his ears, he couldn’t deny the truth. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he had started wanting you to love him again.

He didn’t even know when it had started—maybe it was when he had seen you for the first time after the surgery, standing there with the weight of your love for him gone. Or maybe it was when you had told him, with fear in your voice, that you were afraid of falling for him again. Either way, it was there now, lingering in the back of his mind, in every look, every word.

Shoko’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Look, Gojo… I know you care about her. But you need to be careful. If you really want to help her, if you really care about her, you need to stop thinking about what you want and start thinking about what’s best for her.”

Gojo let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on the railing. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt her, Shoko.”

“I know you weren’t,” Shoko replied, her tone softer now. “But just be honest with yourself, Gojo. Are you really ready to face what happens if she does love you again? Or are you going to make the same mistake and push her away when things get complicated?”

Gojo didn’t answer right away, his mind spinning with everything Shoko had said. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. But now, standing here, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he had been hoping for something. Something he hadn’t even been able to admit to himself until now.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said finally, his voice quieter, more serious than before. “I don’t want to hurt her again.”

“Good,” Shoko replied, her voice gentle but firm. “Because if you do, Gojo… this time, it might be too late to fix.”

They said their goodbyes, but Gojo didn’t move from his spot on the deck. The weight of Shoko’s words hung heavy over him, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to do.

He wasn’t used to this—feeling unsure, feeling vulnerable. He wasn’t used to caring this much about someone. But when it came to you, everything felt different. Messy. Complicated. And now, standing here in the soft light of the evening, he couldn’t help but wonder: What was this? What was he doing?

And more importantly: What did he want?

Because whether he liked it or not, Shoko was right. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to make the same mistake all over again.

And this time, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

Gojo stood there, the ocean stretching endlessly before him, but his mind was elsewhere—caught in the tangled mess of emotions and half-formed thoughts that had been brewing since the moment Shoko’s words hit him. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to questioning himself, to feeling so unsure about what he wanted or what to do next. But now, he couldn’t avoid it.

What do you want, Gojo?

That question had been lingering in the back of his mind for days, ever since this whole beach trip started. He had thought, at first, that it was about giving you a break, giving all of you some time away to reset. But if he was being honest with himself—and maybe for the first time, he really was—this trip had never just been about a vacation. It had been an excuse. An excuse to be near you, to figure out what this thing between you two was. He had wanted to get closer, to understand why you still lingered in his mind, even after the surgery had erased the love you once felt for him.

But now, after Shoko’s call, after that blunt, almost painful clarity she had given him, he couldn’t pretend anymore. It wasn’t about curiosity. It wasn’t about guilt or responsibility, either.

He cared about you. Not just as a student, not just because of what had happened. It was something more. Something deeper that he hadn’t realized until now, until the idea of you falling for him again was no longer a distant possibility but something that could happen. Something that he wanted to happen.

Gojo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he watched the waves roll in, his thoughts swirling like the tide. He had never been one to care about these kinds of things. Feelings, relationships, love—it had always seemed messy, complicated, something he wasn’t built for. He was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, someone who lived on the edge of power and responsibility, always just a step removed from everyone else.

But with you… it felt different. He wasn’t standing on the edge anymore, wasn’t watching from afar. He was right in the middle of it, tangled up in something that he couldn’t just ignore or brush off.

Shoko had been right. If you fell in love with him again—and he knew it was possible, even probable—it would be different this time. Because now, it wasn’t just about your feelings. It was about his.

He hadn’t noticed it before. He hadn’t wanted to. But now, with the question staring him in the face, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

Gojo wanted you.

Not in the simple, surface-level way that he sometimes joked about with others. This wasn’t about charm or attraction, or the way he could so easily draw people in with his confidence and smile. This was deeper. He wanted you in his life, in a way that felt grounding, like maybe for the first time, he wasn’t floating above everything but was anchored to something real.

He wanted to be there, for you and with you—not just as your teacher or some distant figure in the background, but as someone who mattered. Someone who could be a part of your life, not just someone you admired from afar.

And if you fell in love with him again?

He wasn’t going to push you away this time. He wasn’t going to let fear or uncertainty stop him from trying. Because now, he understood that he had been waiting for something like this—for someone like you. Someone who made him feel… human, in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Gojo smiled softly to himself, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him. It wasn’t a grand revelation or some huge, life-altering moment. It was quiet. Simple. But it was real.

He wanted you. And for the first time in his life, Gojo wasn’t afraid of what that meant.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Yuji and Nobara had managed to drag Megumi back to the house, exhausted from the day’s activities, and the house was filled with the usual banter and noise that came from having them around. You had retreated to the kitchen, helping yourself to a glass of water, when you felt his presence behind you.

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice was light, but there was something different in his tone—something more grounded, more focused.

You turned to face him, surprised to find him standing closer than you expected, his usual easy grin absent, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes, usually hidden behind his blindfold, were uncovered, bright and intense as they met yours.

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly feeling nervous, like there was something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Gojo leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost tentative. “About everything. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the word us, and you swallowed hard, unsure of where this conversation was going. “What about us?”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “I know things have been complicated,” he began slowly. “And I know I haven’t exactly been great at… dealing with all of this. But I want to be honest with you.”

You stared at him, your pulse quickening. “Honest about what?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he spoke. “About what I want. About what’s been going on in my head since all of this started. And the truth is… I want you around. Not just as one of my students, but… more than that.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Your heart was racing, and you could barely breathe. “More than that?”

Gojo smiled, a small, genuine smile. “Yeah. I’ve realized that… I don’t want to push you away. I don’t want to pretend like none of this matters. It does. You matter. And I want to figure it out—whatever this is, whatever it could be—together.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. Gojo—Satoru Gojo—was standing in front of you, telling you that he wanted you, that he wanted to figure out whatever was between you. The fear that had been gnawing at you since the surgery, the uncertainty of what would happen if you let yourself care for him again, all of it seemed to melt away in the face of his quiet sincerity.

For the first time since everything had changed, you felt something new. Something fragile, but real.

Hope.

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “What if I fall for you again?” you asked, your voice trembling but steady.

Gojo stepped closer, his smile widening, his eyes soft but full of that familiar spark. “Then it’s all good.”

And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid of what came next.

A few months had passed since that conversation at the beach house, and everything had settled into something new—something real. The fear, the uncertainty that had once weighed heavily between you and Gojo, had slowly faded, replaced by something more stable, more grounded. Life had moved forward, but now, it did so with a quiet ease that you hadn’t expected.

Your relationship with Gojo had evolved, and though it hadn’t been without its bumps and awkward moments, it had become something solid. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic, like you might have once imagined. There were no grand declarations of love, no sweeping romantic gestures. Instead, it was quiet and slow, built on the foundation of friendship, trust, and mutual understanding.

It felt like you had both found your footing, like you were learning how to be in each other’s lives without the fear of repeating the mistakes of the past.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the weather was warm, the sun shining down as you and Gojo walked through the school grounds. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi were off training somewhere, and the two of you had decided to take advantage of the quiet. Gojo had a bag of snacks slung over his shoulder, and you had your hands tucked into your pockets, enjoying the comfortable silence between you.

“What’s the plan for today, sensei?” you asked, giving him a teasing smile. It had become a running joke between you—calling him "sensei" even though the dynamic between you had changed so much over the past few months.

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy still very much intact. “Oh, you know, the usual. Thought we could go somewhere quiet and you watch me be awesome.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You mean watch you eat snacks and avoid responsibility?”

“Exactly,” Gojo said with a wink, falling into step beside you. “See, you’re catching on.”

The banter between you had always been there, but now it was different. There was a lightness to it that hadn’t existed before. You weren’t constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if Gojo was thinking about the past or the surgery or the complicated feelings that had once consumed both of you. Now, things just… were.

You weren’t in a rush to define the relationship, to label it. The love you had once felt for him had changed—it wasn’t the same overwhelming, suffocating force that had bloomed inside of you like the flowers that had nearly killed you. Instead, it had grown into something healthier, something that didn’t demand all of you but existed alongside you.

And Gojo? He had changed, too. He wasn’t the same distant, untouchable figure he had once been. He still had that easy confidence, that charm that made everyone around him smile, but there was something softer about him now—something more vulnerable. He had let you in, and though it hadn’t been easy for him, he hadn’t pulled away. He hadn’t run.

You found a quiet spot under a tree near the edge of the training grounds, and Gojo flopped down onto the grass, pulling a snack out of his bag with a dramatic flourish. You sat beside him, leaning back against the tree and closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face.

“So,” Gojo said after a while, his tone more serious than usual. “How’s it going? You know… with everything.”

You opened your eyes, glancing over at him. It wasn’t like Gojo to ask questions like that—he wasn’t one for deep conversations unless they happened naturally, but when he did ask, you knew it mattered.

“It’s going,” you replied honestly, offering him a small smile. “Better than I expected.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Better how?”

You sighed, resting your head back against the tree as you thought about your answer. “I’m not afraid anymore. Of being around you. Of falling for you again.” You turned your head to look at him, and his expression softened. “And I think… I already did.”

Gojo didn’t flinch. He didn’t tense up or act surprised. Instead, he smiled, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “I know.”

It wasn’t a grand moment, but it didn’t need to be. You had fallen for him again, slowly, gradually, and this time it felt right. It felt safe. It wasn’t the kind of love that demanded too much or threatened to swallow you whole. It was something that grew between you, steady and unforced.

And Gojo? He was right there with you.

You hadn’t talked much about what your relationship was in specific terms. You didn’t need to. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to figure it out together. There was no rush, no urgency. Just… time. Time to grow, to understand each other, to learn how to love in a way that wasn’t destructive.

Gojo reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he gave you that easy, lopsided grin you had come to know so well. “I’m not going anywhere, you know,” he said softly. “No matter what happens. We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you. “I know.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves overhead and the distant laughter of the others in the background. It was peaceful, quiet, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe—like you had found something worth holding onto, not because you needed it to survive, but because it made life better.

And that was enough.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, Gojo shifted beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, we never did figure out what this is,” he said, gesturing between the two of you with a lazy wave of his hand. “Maybe we should give it a name.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Does it need a name?”

He grinned, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the sky. “Nah. I guess not.”

And in that moment, you realized that it didn’t matter what you called it. What mattered was that you were here, together, and that the love between you—whatever form it took—was real.

And that was more than enough.

notes: now everyone says "thank you shoko ieiri"! writing this was so much fun, thank you so much!

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie @r0ckst4rjk @minkyungseokie @tw0fvced @f1sheeee @laviefantasie @f1sheeee @spindyl @itsjustnikkixoxo @springsoltice

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[sweemmy]

“Remember, dear, the key to being an excellent broadcaster isn’t just having a pleasant voice, but knowing how to use it to capture and hold your audience’s attention. Speak to them as if you’re sharing an intimate secret, something only they should know. Make every word feel as though it’s meant solely for their ears.”

Alastor's voice flowed smoothly, weaving through the air like a hypnotic melody, and it took hold of you in a way that felt almost suffocating. His red eyes glimmered with a dark amusement, a twisted joy in watching your reaction. There had always been something unsettling about him, a danger lurking just beneath his charismatic exterior. But tonight, that danger felt closer, more present than ever before.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” His voice dropped lower, no longer just instructive but now filled with an edge of menace, as if testing how much you could handle. His gaze bore into you, evaluating, judging.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press into you, constricting your breath. “Yes, Professor. I understand,” you managed to say, though your voice came out more fragile than you intended.

Alastor’s smile deepened, predatory, as he closed the distance between you with slow, measured steps. Each one made your heart beat a little faster, the tension building as his shadow loomed larger. Though he stood only inches away, it felt as though his very presence consumed the room, suffocating any sense of control you thought you had.

“Good,” he purred, his voice a whisper laced with satisfaction. “Then let’s test that understanding, shall we?” He handed you a script, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment, leaving a trail of warmth that lingered far too long. “But this time, I want you to read it as though you’re speaking directly to me, as if every word is a whisper meant only for my ears.”

You took the script with trembling hands, the paper feeling heavier than it should, as if it carried the weight of the moment. Your eyes skimmed the words, but focusing was difficult with him so close. His proximity was overwhelming, the heat radiating off his body like an invisible force that seemed to pull you in. You could feel the breath of his words still clinging to your skin, each syllable echoing in your mind like a spell.

“Slower,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that his lips brushed the shell of your ear. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, making it hard to concentrate on the script in your hands. “Take your time. Control the rhythm of your words, just as you would control an audience. Let them hang on every syllable, every pause.”

You tried to follow his instructions, your voice faltering as you read. But it wasn’t just the words that were slipping from your grasp—it was your own control. You could feel his presence everywhere, an invisible hand guiding you, pushing you further into the depths of something you couldn’t fully understand.

Alastor’s hand slid down your arm, so light it was almost imperceptible, yet it sent a spark through you. His touch was both comforting and threatening, a duality that left you frozen in place. You knew you should resist, should step back, but instead, you found yourself leaning into him, letting his energy consume you.

“Better,” he said softly, though his tone was still thick with dominance. “But you’re holding back. I want more.” His fingers trailed down your spine, and every inch he touched ignited a fire under your skin. “You’re trying to control your voice, but you need to let go. Surrender yourself to the moment, to the power of your words.”

Your breath hitched as his hand came to rest on your waist, a subtle but unmistakable claim. He was testing you, not just your voice, but your will. And the worst part was that you could feel your own resolve crumbling, your body betraying you as it leaned further into his control.

“I... I don’t think I can,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

His laugh was low, almost sinister, as he tilted his head, his lips ghosting over your neck. “Oh, but you can, darling. You just don’t realize it yet.” His voice wrapped around you like a noose, tightening with every breath you took. “You’re not here to think. You’re here to feel, to experience the raw power of your own voice... and mine.”

Without warning, he plucked the script from your hands and tossed it aside, his actions deliberate and dismissive. “Enough of the formalities,” he said, his tone dropping to something far more intimate, more dangerous. “Now, I want you to speak from here.” His fingers brushed over your chest, just above your heart, and then moved downward, tracing a path that left your skin burning in their wake. “From your soul.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the room growing hotter, more oppressive. His hand rested on your hip, pulling you gently but firmly toward him, and despite the alarm bells ringing in your head, you couldn’t resist. You didn’t want to. Alastor’s gaze was magnetic, a dark promise of pleasure and pain that made your knees weak.

“Control isn’t about restraint, my dear,” he whispered, his lips so close to your ear that his breath sent shivers down your spine. “It’s about knowing when to let go. To let someone else take the reins.”

Before you could react, his lips met yours, and the world seemed to stop. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was consuming, filled with a hunger that felt centuries old, as though he was devouring a part of you. And you... you gave it willingly. His hands moved with expert precision, tracing the curve of your body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every touch.

Your mind screamed that you should stop, that this was wrong, that he was playing you like a puppet on a string. But your body, traitorous as it was, responded to his every command, melting under his touch.

“Alastor...” you gasped between kisses, but he silenced you with a look, his eyes burning with that same dangerous glint you had seen earlier.

“Shhh,” he whispered, his voice dark and velvety. “Now is not the time for words. It’s the time for surrender.”

His hands slid under your shirt, the cool air meeting your heated skin as he pushed the fabric away. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, as though he was savoring the moment. His fingers danced across your skin, making you arch against him, seeking more of his touch.

“You see?” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “This is what true control feels like. You think you’re helpless, but in reality, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. In my hands.”

You tried to speak, to regain some sense of control, but the words died in your throat as his lips found yours again. This kiss was different—slower, more intense, as if he was drawing out the pleasure, savoring every second of your surrender.

The world around you seemed to blur, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his touch, the sound of his voice in your ear, promising both salvation and damnation.

And in that moment, as his hands moved with precision, as his words wrapped around you like chains, you realized the truth: you were his. Entirely, utterly his. And there was no turning back.

[squinch-depraved]

I was watching a chuckle sammy episode today and there was a part where Schlatt said he would hire a hot secretary just to keep him company. I'd love a story about that if you're willing.

The episode is the zodiac one the part I'm referring to is exactly 1 hour in.

this is reallllly yummy i hope i did it justice for you

it was supposed to be just a joke. just a bit for the podcast, a few sentences about hiring an attractive secretary and nothing more. but they stuck in schlatt's mind and hung heavy over him for the rest of that night. he really was lonely. and ted had a point, hiring someone to just be around (and look pretty) was looking like a better and better idea every second. so he finished off his bottle of benedictine, not that there was much left, and tossed it to the side, stretching out further on the couch while he pulled out his phone and set to work searching for an assistant.

it wasn't long before ted heard about his search, and the two men bantered in a call for a few minutes about it before the older of the two stopped his jokes to suggest, "no, but for real though, i have a friend who just moved back to new york, you might remember her, she was on the set for this past chuckle week helping in the background. y/n?"

schlatt's pupils dilated and he took in a breath. "yeah, i remember her," he replied coolly. "thought she was in school though?" he played with something on his desk.

ted lit up. "yeah, she's studying, but i'm sure she'd be willing to work something out with you." his voice was laced with knowing. he had seen the way schlatt sized you up the first time he laid eyes on you, the way he could never meet your gaze and how he always looked to you first when he made a joke. "i'll send you her info, you should reach out, man. she'll be happy to hear from you."

that last line was the only reason schlatt did it. he cursed himself for letting ted convince him now that you were here in front of him. you had been invited to a coffee shop to discuss the job details, and when you finally showed up, he looked incredibly uncomfortable sitting at a small table. but you sat down in front of him, smiling up at him and pushing your glasses up on your nose.

"hi schlatt!" you greeted him, reaching out to shake his hand. he gripped you a bit too hard and grimaced when you made a small noise, shaking your hand out when he let go. "thank you so much for the opportunity, i was really worried i wouldn't be able to find a good job for a while with my school going on and everything."

he nodded hastily and pushed a pastry he ordered for you towards you on the table. you smiled and yanked it towards you, beginning to eat as he spoke. "basically, i just need you to get any random tasks i need done, done. just, paperwork, if there ever is any, usually it's all digital, uhh, anything that slips through the cracks. i just need someone to be there and make sure my shit is taken care of."

you raised a brow. "sounds like you need more than an assistant," you responded with a smirk. his face reddened and he looked away, trying to shove down the thoughts of why you were really here. you were making a joke, but it wasn't funny to him. not when you didn't know you were right.

"shit, i'm sorry schlatt, i didn't mean to insult you-"

"'s fine. not insulted. i need you in the office whenever i'm there, sometimes i get work done at my apartment, so here's a key to both. feel free to get your own shit done whenever you're working unless i need you doing something. pay's fifty an hour. can you start today?" he slaps two keys down onto the table as well as two addresses written down on a half-crumpled napkin. you stare up at him in shock before snatching the keys and paper.

"fifty bucks an hour???" you whisper-screamed at him before the startled look on his face pulled you back into reality. "what about this job is worth paying me that much? i'm accepting it, no takesies backsies, but why so much, schlatt?" you tilted your head at him as you asked.

he scrambled for an answer to your question that wasn't "i want to spoil you until you can't think of anything else in the world you want," but when he opened his mouth to talk, nothing came out. you sighed and answered his previous question instead.

"yeah, i can start today. let's go ahead and get to work, boss," you said, standing up and collecting all your school stuff you brought in with you. "take me somewhere i can dump my stuff!"

weeks passed, you fell into rhythm with his fucked up schedule easily, quickly learning when to fetch him more caffeine and when to take away his alcohol. you kept him organized, boosting his productivity and helping him with almost anything he needed. you learned a few days in the fifty an hour was for no good reason other than maybe ted had told him you were struggling to pay for school (he hadn't) because most of your job was sitting at another desk, sometimes in the same room, sometimes separated by walls, parallel playing with schlatt as he filmed or streamed or edited or did whatever he needed to do while you worked on schoolwork or a fun hobby you were into. you were being paid to do minimal office work, study and relax, and best of all, care for your hot boss. he loved when you called him that, boss, it always made his cock twitch and his brain flood with thoughts of you under him.

the worst part of the job was how attracted you were to him. it made doting on him inevitable when your whole source of income was reliant on you making sure he was "taken care of." he noticed you acting more lovingly for the first time when you brought a water bottle to his desk while he was editing and massaged the back of his shoulders before mumbling, "you need to take a break and stretch soon," and leaving the room. he was stunned, skin burning under his sweater where you touched him. secretaries don't do that. he quickly opened up his messages with ted and began typing.

"dude. i fucked up. shouldn't have hired y/n. help." every sentence was a different message. moment later, ted eased the pounding of schlatt's heart a bit by replying.

"what happened??"

schlatt typed quickly. "she massaged my shoulders idk man i can't think around her"

"oh dear heavens, the damn harlot massaged you?"

schlatt didn't dignify that with a response. a few moment later, ted typed again.

"she's really into you dude, you should go for it. i promise she's not the type to sue you if it doesn't work out"

his main fear erased, he closed the chat and got off the computer, heading to find you in his apartment kitchen, going over the schedule for the days to come. music played from a speaker on the counter, and you paused it when you saw him come out.

"sorry, was it too loud?" you asked, looking up at him.

"nah," he shook his head. "you've been workin' for me for a few months now, y/n," he began.

you started shaking your head, backing up into his fridge. "schlatt, please, no, i need this job," you started to babble.

"shhh, nonono, not that at all, doll," he assured you, gliding across the floor to caress your cheek. the pet name made your stomach turn as you let him cup your face. "was gonna say somethin' else."

"what is it, then, boss?" you batted your lashes at him. he inhaled sharply and kissed you, absorbing the high pitched moan you let out. when he pulled away, you flicked your eyes down from his to his mouth and back up to meet his gaze before pulling him back in.

he tasted like whiskey, and he growled against your neck when you slid your hands under his shirt. "hired you just to keep me company but i can't keep my hands off you, doll." the nickname made you nervous for the second time that night.

"then don't keep 'em off me," you panted, puling your shirt off over your head and adjusting your skewed glasses. he drinks you in, inhaling the scent of your perfume (that you recently had to buy another of because he stole your first bottle to smell while he pumped his thick cock in his hand whenever you were gone). after a moment, he peeled your leggings off and picked you up, setting you down on the counter before he kneeled between your legs and looked up at you for permission to begin tasting you. you nodded, running your fingers through his brown curls while he started to lick and kiss at your cunt. much to his enjoyment, you didn't hold back your noises, letting your moans and cries bounce off the echoey walls of his apartment.

he slid a finger in you as he sang praises about how good you tasted for him, working his way up to two, and eventually three. you were crooning about how amazing he felt, knotting your fingers deeper into his hair and pulling it when you felt your high getting close, which made him moan directly onto your clit. you clenched your thighs around his head and ground down onto his face as he drew an orgasm from you.

once his face was thoroughly soaked with your juices, he pulled away and came up to kiss you for a bit before pulling you off the counter and spinning you around.

"i promise i'll fuck you properly, in a bed, next time, i just gotta have you now, toots." he bent you over the counter and slid his pants down, stroking his length a few times before slowly pushing into you. you both moaned, adjusting to each other, and he started thrusting, gripping your hips fiercely as you shrieked and adjusted your glasses again, to no avail because you were being shaken and throttled like a toy.

"god, you're so good!!" you screeched, moaning further when he smacked your ass in response.

"fuck, you look so cute, bent over on my counter like that, lettin' me use you like the good little assistant you are," he snarled. you let out a guttural whine at how hot he sounded. "you're so good at assisting me, baby."

your knees began to buckle and he grabbed you tighter to help hold you up.

"almost there, toots, c'mon. doin' so good."

you cried out one more time and his pace quickened, growing unsteady as he got closer to finishing. he thrust forcefully a few more times before pulling out to come all over your back and ass.

quiet settled over the kitchen as you both panted, and you heard him quietly snap a picture of you with his seed all over you before he grabbed a paper towel and began to clean you up.

"sorry," he mumbled.

you shook you head and turned around to kiss him. "can i stay the night?" you asked him.

he nodded, relieved, and slipped his pants back on.

"can i get paid for it?" you looked at him with a sly expression, glasses smudged.

he laughed. "absolutely."

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |2|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.

Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.

“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.

“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”

“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.

Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”

“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.

Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.

“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.

“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”

“And someone can verify this?”

“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”

“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”

“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”

“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”

“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”

Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”

“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”

“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.

“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”

“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”

“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”

Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.

“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.

Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.

Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.

“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”

Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.

“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”

“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.

“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”

“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.

“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online.”

“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”

“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.

“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.

“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”

Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.

“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.

“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”

“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.

“I haven’t.”

“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.

“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”

“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”

“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”

Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.

“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”

Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.

“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.

Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.

After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.

Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.

Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.

When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.

“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.

“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.

Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.

Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.

“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”

Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.

“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”

“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.

“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself

She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.

Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.

“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”

Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.

Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”

“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”

Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”

“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”

Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.

Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.

“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.

Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.

Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998

[thegirlamongthestars]

nsfw alphabet - c.alcaraz

warnings: +18 content

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's literally glued to you. Nonstop cuddles and soft kisses everywhere. He also takes care of getting you clean (most of the time you just hop on the shower together and help each other soaping) and makes sure that you go to the bathroom after it.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He's definetly an ass man. He just loves squeezing and pinching at every chance he has. Either you're cooking, brushing your teeth or just standing next to him. At least one of his hands is always on it.

Apart from that, he loves your waist. How perfectly his hands fit when he holds you, creating an intimate connection. The natural curve of it, accentuating your silhouette, it's something he finds irresistibly alluring and feminine.

Your favorite part of him is, without a doubt, his arms. You love everything about them. The size of his biceps, the marked veins throughout them and of course, his big hands. You just love how effortlesly he can lift you off your feet and pull you closer whenever he wants.

But let's be honest, everything about him is a big turn on for you.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He adores when you are giving him a blowjob and you let him finish in your mouth.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I think he would die to ask you to have sex in the locker room or any risky places at The Academy. The adrenaline after his trainings taking over him.

He tends to be the one leading the situation but he secretly adores when you are the one in charge. He loves being bossed around by you and feeling wrapped around your finger.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's had a few summer flings before you. He knows how to behave generally and your first time together was amazing. But after a few times of getting to know your body by himself and by asking your preferences directly, you're in seventh heaven everytime he touches you.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

He's a sucker for lotus position. Having you on top of him (controlling the depth of the thrusts) and being able to hold you as close as possible. The intimacy and the romanticism of it are the highlights for him.

He also loves bending you over any surface on the house either when you're on "rough mode" or when you just have time for a quickie.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He knows how to adapt it to the mood of the moment.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think he keeps it neat but not fully shaved.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's all for intimacy! He loves praising you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But in the same amount, he loves teasing you (always respecting your limits). One thing he'll never ever do is degrading you (it is a major turn off for him)

When he has the time, which is not very often unfortunately, he loves preparing cheesy and romantic things for you. Like a bubble bath with candles where both of you can relax and reach another level of intimacy.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it when he's out at tournaments. For his birthday you gifted him an album of spicy polaroids and he always carries with him his favorite one. So normally he uses this, the simple thought of you or your voice through the phone to please himself.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves the size difference you have cause he's just able to handle you around whatever way he likes. Basically being able to demonstrate his strength whether he's fucking you pinned against the wall or in the shower.

As a sportsman he enjoys his fair amount of praise. Either directly when you are telling him how well he's doing or indirectly, by the incesant moans he causes you. He also loves showering you with praises at everything you do.

And finally, the adrenaline of taking risks as I said before... 🤭

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

I think he loves the bed the most. It's basic but he feels safe, protected and he's able to concentrate just on pleasuring you. However he also loves a little bit of teasing in public and taking you in the kitchen counter after breakfast on Sundays.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything related to you. Looking at you, the way you dress, YOUR PERFUME/NATURAL SCENT (gets him going as fast as the speed of light), your confidence and manners... He's just head over heels for his woman.

n= no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that can cause you a potential damage or anything that you hadn't agreed on.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Let's be honest in here. He's a guy, he really enjoys when you go down on him.

But the power he feels when he's eating you out, it's something off the charts for him. How you squirm under his tongue, the way you gasp for air everytime he sucks you and your sweet sounds are all he needs to be happy.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood of the moment. For example, when he's full of adrenaline after he won a game or a tournament he'll give you the most delicious fast, rough and deep pace ever. But when he loses, he becomes super clingy with you so you'll have this tender, slow and sweet pace.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

One of his top favorites (and for you ofc, cause even on a short time he can make you finish every time 😌). It is just so practical, you both get satisfied and you can still reach to your respective chores.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes yes yes! He's very exploring on this sense, 1. because everything new adds to his experience of pleasing you and giving you the best sex of your life and 2. because he just enjoys being dutiful and proving that he can become the best at anything he proposes.

s= stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Let's be for real, just look at him playing🤭. And also just look at the size of those quads and biceps. He can go all night long! He always leave you completely worn out after two rounds.

t= toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You own toys and when he discovered it he couldn't be more excited to try them out. His favourite is any one related to vibration/suction. More specifically, he recently bought you vibrating panties and he has the time of his life controlling the speed and intensity of it.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

We've all seen that cheeky smile of his 🤤 he adoooores teasing you, both on the sexual and on everyday situations.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

LOUD and he's not remotely ashamed of it (thank God 😩)

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves watching you on tennis skirts or dresses and when you surprise him with no underwear beneath them, he goes WILD. You'll find him asking his Nike people to provide him with female sportwear of every collection they launch.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

The evidence is out there and I think we can all agree on this one without the need of words 😇

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He wants to have you ALL the time.

"I'm just obsessed with you, what can I do?" he would say.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After he's done with all his aftercare and you're both comfortable, he dozes off quickly just by listening to your heartbeat.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Fake dating 2 (mini fic)

Part one here

❤️

Now that Jason was leaving you alone it felt like there was a time limit on your "relationship" with Eddie. You're hesitant to admit that your feelings have changed after Eddie's dismissive attitude.

His words keep coming back to you whenever you think of telling him. What was the point?

There was no way you could talk to him and ruin the budding friendship that was happening between the two of you. You adored hanging out with Eddie at the trailer; his uncle Wayne was funny and really nice to you and the trailer had begun to feel like a home away from home.

You didn't want to ruin what you had by admitting your feelings and making everything super awkward and you were so busy trying to cover up your feelings that you didn't notice Eddie beginning to struggle with his...

❤️

Naturally Dustin is the first person to notice Eddie's changing feelings. Even after he took the little shrimp to the record store and Family Video.

He's watching Eddie with an amused grin on his face while browsing the horror collection.

Eddie wasn't normally a jealous person, at least there wasn't a universe where he ever thought he'd be jealous of Steve Harrington...

Okay maybe that was a teeny tiny lie. He was a little jealous that Steve seemed to have it all. Rich, good looks and the ladies loved him but it was a passing thought than anything else.

Now he couldn't quite ignore the jealousy that was raging through him.

"So that oh we don't actually have real feelings for each other comments really came back to bite you in the ass huh dude?" Dustin says sarcastically and Eddie glares at him. The little shrimp and his tone was getting worse by the day.

Dustin is patting his shoulder in a meant to be soothing manner and that irritated Eddie even more.

"Yeah. Real helpful you little butthead" he grumbles as Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He shouldn't be feeling like this but every inch of him is thrumming with envy. Without thinking Eddie walks over and slips his arms around your waist, you look at him surprised.

"Harrington. Good to see you" stop flirting with my girl you butthead he seethes, fuck. He really does want you to be his girl. The realisation is staggering to him because he's been living in denial for a while now.

And instead of admitting these feelings he panics and takes his attitude out on Steve. He feels guilty about doing it but he doesn't like the way Steve is looking at you. Doesn't he have enough chicks swooning about his good looks?

He can tell you're irritated but he's having trouble getting his annoyance under control and once Dustin has picked the movies he likes, he storms out to his van.

When you follow him out with Dustin the look on your face makes Eddie's stomach churn. Dustin shakes his head as he looks between the pair of you and climbs in the front with him.

"Are you coming?" he asks even though he really doesn't want to know the answer.

"What was that with Steve? Why did I feel like I was in the middle of some pissing contest?" he gulps and really he should just apologise but he puts his foot in his mouth. "Sorry I just feel a little nauseated what with all of Steve's flirting" he snaps and Dustin groans.

Your eyes flash with anger and you glare at him, "He's my friend Eddie. Even if he was flirting I'm not interested" this lessons the ache in Eddie's chest but he's still pissed at Steve.

"Yeah well clearly Steve is" he grumbles and the anger fades from your features.

"What does it matter? This isn't real. Our feelings and all of this shit is fake. You said it yourself" your voice cracks at the end and he stiffens. Shit. He did see that... and now you looked like you were going to cry.

"I think I'll walk home today" you tell him and rush away before he can call you back. Shit. Shit.

"You know that I admire you dude but you really can be the world's biggest dumbass at times" Dustin pipes up and he sighs.

Yeah. He definitely is.

❤️