#my friend is glaring at me right now for this

[krosiefics]

is that a bet? • stray kids ot8 x reader

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: at some point of playing ‘never have I ever’, you make a bet that you could make all eight of your best friends cum within 10-15 minutes…and well, you did.

WC: 3.7k (I have issues)

Tags: PURE SMUT, afab!reader, softdom!chan, dom!minho, dom!changbin, softdom!hyunjin, sub!jisung, sub!felix, dom!seungmin, switch!jeongin, switch!reader, piv, unprotected sex (wrap the eggplant yall), same hole double penetration, ass smacking, squirting, begging, overstimulation, hair pulling, spitting, oral (f. receiving), lwk gangbang, praise (pretty, good girl), degradation (slut, whore), light dacryphilia, breeding kink, creampie, biting(?), grinding, pet names (baby, babe, princess, hun, darling, kitten, bun, etc), marking/hickey, probably forgetting some…sorry :P

a/n: this is so smutty i am so sorry…but yw 🫠

You don’t remember how exactly you ended up in this position…something about a bet, yet here you are, half-naked spread out on the floor with eight pairs of eyes burning into your body.

8 minutes earlier

“Never have I ever,” Minho pauses in thought, “nutted before my partner.”

“What the actual fuck Minho.” Seungmin grimaces, though he takes a swig of soju. “What?!” Minho shrugs defensively, “It makes the game more interesting.”

“That’s a fucking lie though.” Jisung snorts as he also takes a shot of soju. “And how would you know that?” You ask with a sly smirk.

“I’ve seen him watch porn,” He deadpans, which sends everyone into a fit of laughter.

“You wanna bet Ji?” Minho challenges.

“Y’all seriously aren’t about to jerk off right here…right?” Chan looks at them in disgust and then at the white shag carpet underneath them, “Why, you wanna join?” Minho pokes.

“I bet none of y’all virgins can stop yourselves from cumming as soon as someone touches you.”

“You wanna make that bet.” Changbin chimes in. You groan at them which catches their attention, “Do you have something to say princess?” Jisung raised his brows teasingly. You groan yet again at the nickname before saying, “I bet I could make all y’all cum in fifteen, maybe ten minutes.”

“You really wanna do this?” Hyunjin lifts your chin with his finger. “Hmm,” you hum, “if you guys cum before I do, a hundred…from each of you.”

“That’s eight hundred bucks!” Jeongin blurts out, you nod slyly. “And if we win?” Felix tilts his head. “Y’all can decide on that.” you state.

You move to get up, dragging your hoodie over your body and exposing your oversized shirt underneath. You turn around looking at the eight boys. “Are we doing this or not?”

Everyone unanimously agrees. It went so fast, the soju from the previous rounds probably getting to everybody’s heads and letting you carelessly make these decisions.

“Oh and rules-“ “RULES?!” Minho, Seungmin and Jisung cried out. “Guys it’s her body, she can make rules.” Felix interrupts their protests. “Thanks Lix,” You smile before continuing, “no touching…well to be more clear no touching me or yourselves…but I can touch you.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed in disappointment.

“It makes the game more interesting.” You shrug, spewing Minho’s previous words at them, the said boy shoots you a playful glare.

You glanced over at the digital clock that hung from the wall. 12:48.

Present

And well, that’s how you ended up here.

Your hand trails down your body stopping at your soaked panties before circling over your clit, toes curling at the feeling.

You stare up at the eight boys, their eyes dazed on your leaking cunt that stains your panties. You let out a moan as you hook your fingers around the material and slip it down your legs, exposing your now bare glistening cunt. You let a finger plunge into your heat, biting your lip. You lock eyes with Changbin, his knuckles gripping at his sweatpants, the outline of his cock bulging through the material. You bite your lip as you stare at his bulge.

The sound of a small whine prompts you to look over at another flustered and painfully hard boy. Jisung looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lower lip is caught between his teeth. “Please, Y/N.”

“Well since you asked so nicely.” You coo, pulling your fingers out of your cunt and crawling ever so slowly towards the round cheeked boy. As you settle by his side, you purposefully arch your back and push your ass out so that the guys sitting criss crossed on the floor behind me have a nice view. You trail your fingers up his knee and towards his thigh

He shivered under your touch as you made your fingers dance along his inner thigh. A desperate whimper left his mouth as you pulled back teasingly and went back to your original spot on the shag carpet.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin breathed out, “you’re ethereal.” His usually perfectly sculpted face contoured into a needy look- yet through his desperation he still looked as beautiful as ever. You moan softly as his praise. “Oh, does our little slut like to be praised?” Minho said to your right, you turned to him and bit your lip, your legs instinctively closing as his degradation surged throughout your body. “Fuck and degration too.” Seungmin hums as your eyes trail to him.

The hot touch of a hand on your lower hips snapped you out of the trace that Seungmin had basically pulled you into. You look towards your right, and there Minho is, smirking as his hand squeezes at the curve of your ass. “Hey!” You slapped his hand away, “No touching!”

“You never said what would happen if we did though, kitten.” The stupid pet name had you squeezing your legs together even more, “Aw, such a filthy slut for us.”

“Shit he’s right,” Felix breathed out, “what happens if we do touch you?” Shit, you didn’t think this far ahead- fuck you don’t even remember what the prize of the bet was…or if there even was one. Why are you guys even doing this again? “Fuck,” Chan groans gently, “does this pretty little cunt of yours want to be filled, love?” You feel his rough hands cup your bare cunt, jerking at the sudden touch. “Y/N?” Jeongin’s soft voice cracked as he whined out your name. You hummed in response as you fought the urge to grind against Chan’s large hand. “Can we touch you now? Please.”

“Oh God,” You throw your head back with a moan as Chan teasingly slips a finger inside your glistening pussy, “fuck yes! Please Innie!”

With that Jeongin springs up to his feet and quickly makes his way towards you. At the corner of your eye, you see the other five move from their spot to get closer to you. “Fuck,” you moan, feeling Changbin’s hands run under your tshirt, lightly teasing your pebbled nipples, “why did we do this again?” A small chuckle resonated from Seungmin’s sweet lips, “Because you wanted to win a bet, right pup?”

You bite down on your lower lip, Jisung’s lips attaching themselves to your clit next to where Chan’s fingers are plummeted inside. Felix helps you out of your shirt as Hyunjin and Changbin each take one of your breasts into their mouth. It all happened so quickly and at the same time, you feel your climax nearing faster than ever. And just like that your release is stolen from you as the four boys pull away from your body. You whine out desperately, “I swear to fucking God if y’all do that again I’m leaving and finishing by myself!” You threaten, sitting up onto your knees.

“Okay, okay princess.” Jisung purrs as he tilts your head up by hooking his knuckle under your chin.

You whimper as he nears your face, “This okay?” you gulp and nod quickly and to that he just clicks his tongue, pulling back slightly. “Words babe.”

“Yes.” you sigh breathlessly, Jisung attaches his lips to yours ever so roughly, a pair of soft hands grab at your hips, placing you down onto their lap. Your legs slotted against your chest being held by the man whom you’re laying on, while the said man leaves butterfly kisses along the nape of your neck.

Chan slipped his fingers out of your cunt prompting you to whine but the feeling of something warm and wet poking at your clit causes the whine to turn into a gasp, Jisung takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Your thighs instinctively clench around the head that’s propped between them.

“So sweet.”

Jeongin muttered against your folds before slotting his tongue alongside it yet again. “Holy fuck Innie!” you throw your head back, lips detaching from Jisung’s, with an erotic moan, your head now resting on the shoulder of the man behind you. At this angle you catch a glimpse at the the man- fucking hell.

He sinks his teeth into your neck, though the action seems so rough he doesn’t bite down to the point where it hurts. “Fuck, keep her making those faces.” Felix bites his lip, his hand rubbing himself through his shorts. You whine, shutting your eyes as Jeongin continues to assault your throbbing cunt as Changbin moves into massage your breasts. “Look at you,” Minho purred into your ear as he started grinding his hardened cock against your ass, “being so obedient and submissive for everyone, just like the little slut you are.” You moan out at the overwhelming mixture of sensations; Hyunjin nibbling at your nipple, Jeongin’s tongue running up and down your folds, and Minho breathing dirty words into your ear while peppering your shoulder with kisses and love bites.

The cat eyed boy sneakily brings his hand to your cunt and smacks it slightly, not too hard but enough that it stung a little. “Fuck you,” you groan out as Minho massages your core, his fingers dipping further down towards where Jeongin’s face is buried. “No,” Minho tsked, “I’ll do the fucking.”

“Don’t be too rough on her Min.” Chan spoke, you glance over to him and he had his hand shoved down his pants. “She likes it.” Seungmin said confidently, “Right, whore?” You do nothing but whimper at his words meanwhile your body starts to shake slightly. “Answer with words pup.”

“God, fuck yes! I love it- please don’t stop.” You can feel Jeongin smirk against your heat.

Your eyes wandered to the boy next to Seungmin, his eyes stuck on mine as his pretty face scrunched up, his shorts rustling while his hand too was shoved inside, and his freckled cheeks flushed so very red. “Lix,” you gesture for him to move closer, almost immediately the freckled boy quickly rushed down from his spot on the couch and next to you on the floor. He looks at you with pleading eyes, “take it off.”

You grab at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly pulls it over his head awaiting your next instruction. You were about to ask him something but the feeling of a harsh bite on your inner thigh caused you to squeak out instead. Your head whips down to see Hyunjin licking at the skin he just bit. They’re moving so quickly you can barely keep up with who’s doing what.

“Can we fuck you already?” A voice said from your left, your head instinctively turning towards the source. Seungmin stared at you with prying eyes. “Kim Seungmin!” Chan lightly smacked his shoulder, “Let her choose, remember?” The oldest shakes his head at the younger. “Min,” You whimper from the stimulation. “Yeah?” Both Seungmin and Minho responded. “Lee.” Seungmin pouted as Minho leaned in closer, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

Though your senses are so overloaded, you snake your hands down the space between your bodies, shifting your hips up to grab at his hardened cock. Minho’s brows furrow as you stroke his clothed dick. “Desperate are we?” He smirks, “You want all eight of us tonight? Or just a few?” Chan questions, he’s so thoughtful and that makes your heart hammer in your chest. “All.”

”Fuck.” Each boy’s voice sounds throughout the room, they all stare at you with lust-filled eyes.

Your hand that’s still wrapped around Minho’s cock, begins pumping it. Minho hisses at the feeling, precum leaking from the tip. You tease his slit before shifting your hips in his lap. Lifting your hips, you grind down on his cock, your arousal coating his shaft.

“Oh, fucking hell.” Minho throws his head back erratically as his tip pokes at your clit, he could feel as you throbbed against him. He wanted nothing more than to slip inside you already. Unbeknownst to Minho, you gesture with your head for Hyunjin to move closer.

The taller boy obeys, moving into your space, sealing your lips against his. Hyunjin’s hands moved to your hips, gently- yet quickly- pushing you down onto Minho’s cock. Both you and Minho moan out as you clench around his girth.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so well, yeah slut.” Minho grunts before he slams his hips into you roughly, not even allowing you to adjust. “Min, not too rough.” Chan warned as you dug your nails into Hyunjin’s shoulder as he continued kissing you.

“Yeah, she’s still got all of us!” Jeongin whined from Chan’s left. You clench at Jeongin’s words, the thought of you having all eight of them tonight makes you spiral towards your climax. “Not yet kitten. Hold it off.” Minho snarled into your ear, his cock continuously hitting your gspot.

“Hyune.” You whined, reaching down to pump his cock, jerking him towards your pussy that is getting pounded into by Minho. “Shit, you want me too darling?” Hyunjin smirked, his eyes gazing down towards where you and Minho are connected, where you’re pulling him towards.

You hastily nod, nothing but whimpers and moans spilling out from your mouth. Hyunjin shoots Minho a look over your shoulder, the latter smirks at him, taking your thighs and pushing them farther back to give space to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin’s tip pokes at your entrance before he pushes in. The stretch didn’t hurt too bad, but it was enough for tears to prickle in your eyes. As Hyunjin and Minho fucked into you, tears finally fell, cascading down your cheeks from the mixture pleasure and pain.

“Aw, don’t cry bun.” You hear Changbin coo. The built man moving over to you, kissing the tear stains on your cheeks. “They making you feel that good?” He gives a sly raise of his brow, his bottom lips jutting out. “F-Fuck Binnie.” You moan, you can feel both Minho and Hyunjin twitching inside you.

A harsh slap stings on your ass as Minho rubs at the now red spot. “I’m so close princess, can I fill you up?” Hyunjin grunts against your neck. “Yes, God, please, Hyune.” Your body begins to shake as Hyunjin spills into you, Minho following close after at the feeling of your clenching and Hyunjin’s cum coating his cock.

Jisung pushes Changbin out of his way before helping you up off of Minho and Hyunjin’s sweaty bodies, greedily taking you towards the sofa, sitting down and playing you on his lap. Jisung’s cock slips in with ease after being stretched out by Minho and Hyunjin.

You melt into Jisung touch as his hands guide you to roll your hips. His hands make their way towards your ass, spreading your cheeks apart revealing your swollen cunt to the boys behind you.

“Fuck you’re so warm baby.” Jisung groans into your ear. Suddenly another pair of hands are on you, massaging at your hips before rutting his cock between your ass. “Can I have a turn hun?” You hear Felix hum behind you.

You turn your head and give him a weak smile as a go ahead. With that Felix slips his cock alongside Jisung’s, both boys moaning at the feeling. Having almost orgasmed earlier, you feel it build up quicker than last time. Your thighs began quaking as Jisung bucked his hips and Felix thrusted into you.

Your hands shoot up to Felix’s blonde hair, tugging at it when the two boys hit your gspot directly. Felix released a low whimper, “Darling please, I won’t- last long if you do that.” He stumbled over his words, his freckled cheeks a deep pink hue.

You decide to tease the boy, clenching down on his (and Jisung’s) cock, pulling at his hair. You feel as he twitched inside of you before unexpectedly releasing. The freckled boy’s face scrunched up in pleasure as he leaned his forehead against yours as Jisung thrusted into you a few more times before emptying himself into you as well.

“Holy shit.” Felix shook, biting his lower lip before slowing his thrusts, robbing you from your orgasm again. “Save it for me, yeah love?” You heard Chan chuckle to your right. You turn to look at him, flinching when Felix and Jisung ease out of your clenching cunt.

Jeongin helps you off of the other’s bodies. He holds you up when your legs threaten to give out on you. Holding you by the waist, his pretty brown eyes flicker down to your lips, hesitant to lean in. You chuckle before cupping his cheeks and pulling his lips towards yours.

Jeongin groans into the kiss as he grinds his clothed erection into your hips. He pulls away, an embarrassed flush taking over his cheeks. You chuckle before setting him on the sofa like the other had been previously positioned.

Throwing your legs around his lap, you straddled the flustered boy under you. “This okay Innie?” You asked, even though you’ve already crossed that friendship line with him having already eaten you out, you still wanted to make sure he was okay with this.

“Oh fuck yeah I’m okay.” Jeongin grinned, his hands immediately roaming your breasts, squeezing and massaging at the flesh. You hastily undo the zipper of his jeans before tugging his cock out of the slacks. Jeongin hissed at your touch.

Suddenly a hot sting spread through your ass. You whimpered at the slight pain, turning over to see Seungmin glaring down at you. “Bend.” Jeongin stared up at the elder and you in a daze. You leaned as much as you could onto Jeongin before another slap landed on your ass.

A moan echoing from your mouth. With you moaning into his ear, Jeongin grew impatient, grabbing his cock before pressing inside of you. The mixture of the slaps and Jeongin’s cock filling you up made your back arch.

Before you could even begin to process what was happening, Seungmin rammed his cock inside your sopping cunt. You practically scream from the sudden intrusion, nails digging into Jeongin’s shoulders.

The two youngest boys out of your friends absolutely railed you, both stopping whenever your moans would pitch and you would start squeezing their cocks uncontrollably. “Minnie, Innie- let me please, I’m so close.” You cried, that knot in your stomach so tight that it almost hurt.

“You think you deserve it, after driving us all into this stupid bet, you whore?” Seungmin snarled, grabbing your hair and pulling your head backwards, “Open.” You oblige, parting your lips, lolling your tongue out as you understood what the man was hinting at. Seungmin let a drop of saliva fall from his mouth and into yours before harshly pushing your head back towards Jeongin’s neck.

The two boys continued using your cunt until they were spurting out warm ropes into you. Yet again you were robbed from your orgasm as the two roughly filled up your cunt.

“Fuck, you did so well pup.” Seungmin panted against the nape of your neck, leaving a small kiss there before slipping out of your pussy. When you pulled away from Jeongin’s sweaty body, he stared up at you with a wide grin and a dazed look, he looked absolutely fucked out.

Changbin helps you off the boys before pushing Jeongin off the couch and getting comfortable in that same spot, pulling you onto his lap. “You wanna take a breather?” Chan asked, crouching down to your seated level. “No…just…please, I’m so close.”

Changbin chuckled from behind you, guiding you to straddle him in reverse. You sink onto Changbin’s thick cock, the built man’s hands flying to your tits, holding and squeezing them as they bounce with your movements.

You peer through your eyelashes, raising your brow at Chan, insinuating for him to hurry up and fuck you. The oldest of the eight chuckles before slipping his cock out of his pants. “Gonna fill you up so good, yeah baby?” He says before sliding right inside your stretched out pussy.

“Holy mother of fuck!” You cursed, the stretch of Changbin was already overwhelming- but now adding on Chan’s way above average length…you don’t think you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

Changbin thrusted harshly from underneath you, roughly pinching at your nipples. “Fuck bun, your squeezing us so much, might just bust right now.”

You loll your head back into his shoulder, “Bin…fuck- Binnie please.” You beg, your arms moving to tug at his wavy hair.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching inside you as he fastened his speed. Chan just watched as Changbin rammed into your cunt alongside his. The intense feeling of Changbin railing into you from underneath had you reeling, though the sudden circling of your clit made your orgasm finally hit you.

Liquid squirting out of you as you cried out, before Changbin released inside of you, Chan now picking up his pace, edging towards his climax.

“I know love, I’m sorry…just a few more.” Chan cooed as you whimpered from the overstimulation, he continued railing into you, not stopping when Changbin had pulled out of you.

Chan nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving kisses and sucking at the skin there. “Almost there love, gonna fill you up so good, yeah. You’ve been such a good girl for us.” His praise had you crying out, squeezing around his cock. At that Chan finally came, filling you up with his warm release.

Chan slowly eased out of you before gently moving you to lay on the less dirty part of the couch.

“Imma go get the towels.” A voice you’re not even sure who’s said. “I’ll get her some water.” Another stated.

Sometime later, Felix returned with some damp warm towels. As he wiped your lower region, you flinched at the sensitivity. “I’m sorry darling, almost done.”

A sudden hand gently raised your head from the back, supporting you to sit up. “You okay? We didn’t go too rough on you, right?” Seungmin asked as Minho handed you a glass of water. You took the glass with an appreciative smile.

“You guys were fine- oh.”

“Oh?” Hyunjin smiled in confusion. “The time.” You said pointing at the digital clock. 1:03. Exactly fifteen minutes.

“I win.” Some of the boys groaned while some chuckled, a bet is a bet after all.

taglist: @katsukis1wife

[teddymoon06]

Through the Storm

"Are You Sure?" (Y/N x Jungkook)

Are You Sure?

Y/N could feel the tension in the air the moment she stepped into the room. Her eyes darted around, taking in the sight of Jimin, leaning casually against the wall, his expression amused as he watched Jungkook pace back and forth in front of him.

She knew what this was about—how could she not? Jungkook had been a bundle of nerves the past week, constantly second-guessing himself, and now, with Jimin pushing him, it was all coming to a head.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Jimin’s voice was calm but teasing, his words hanging in the air like a challenge.

Jungkook stopped pacing and glared at his friend. "I told you, hyung, I know what I’m doing."

Y/N, who had stayed silent until now, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

Both Jungkook and Jimin turned to look at her. Jimin's smile widened, clearly enjoying the tension, while Jungkook’s eyes softened the moment they landed on her. He looked nervous, which was unlike him. Usually, he was the confident, carefree type, but around her, there was a vulnerability that Y/N both cherished and worried about.

"Of course, I do," Jungkook replied, his voice quieter now. He walked over to her, hesitating for a moment before taking her hand in his. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, a nervous habit she had come to recognize. "I just… I don’t want to mess things up."

Y/N sighed softly, squeezing his hand. "Kook, you're not going to mess things up. But if you're not ready, that's okay too."

Jimin, still lounging against the wall, raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just the innocent bystander here."

Jungkook shot him a look. "Innocent, my ass."

Y/N let out a laugh despite herself. Jungkook’s tension seemed to ease at the sound of her laughter, his lips twitching into a small smile. He loved making her laugh, even when he was anxious.

Jimin, sensing the moment had passed, straightened up and pushed off the wall. "Alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. But Kook," he paused at the door, glancing back at his younger friend, "just don’t overthink it. You already have her. That’s all that matters."

As Jimin left the room, the silence settled between them. Jungkook turned back to Y/N, his dark eyes searching her face for reassurance. Y/N smiled softly and reached up to brush a strand of hair away from his face.

"Why are you so nervous?" she asked gently.

Jungkook let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "It’s just… everything with you is so important to me. I don’t want to make a mistake. I don’t want you to regret being with me."

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She had never doubted her feelings for him, not once. From the moment they had gotten closer, there had been an undeniable connection between them. Sure, there were challenges—there always were when feelings were involved—but she knew Jungkook was worth every second.

"Jungkook," she said softly, stepping closer to him, "I don’t regret anything. Being with you is the best decision I’ve ever made."

He looked down at her, his expression conflicted. "But what if—"

Y/N cut him off by placing her hand gently on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm. "No 'what ifs.' Just us. Right here, right now."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Jungkook’s hand came up to cover hers, holding it against his chest as if anchoring himself to her. His eyes softened, the vulnerability still there but tempered by the trust they had built together.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, echoing Jimin’s earlier teasing question but with a seriousness that tugged at Y/N’s heart.

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes filled with affection. "I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

The tension in Jungkook’s shoulders finally eased, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. In that moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of them, wrapped up in each other.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, the words so soft she almost missed them.

But she heard, and her heart swelled in response. She tilted her head up to look at him, meeting his gaze with all the love she felt for him. "I love you too."

Jungkook leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a gentle kiss that quickly deepened, filled with all the emotions they couldn’t put into words. It was tender, yet passionate, a promise of everything they had yet to experience together.

When they finally pulled apart, Jungkook rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming out in soft puffs. "I’m sorry for overthinking everything."

Y/N laughed softly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "You don’t have to apologize for that. We’re both figuring this out together."

He smiled, that familiar bunny grin that melted her heart every time. "Together."

Y/N nodded, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips. "Always."

And in that moment, with her arms around Jungkook and his soft smile still lingering, Y/N knew they were going to be okay. Whatever challenges came their way, they would face them together, hand in hand, just as they always had.

Jungkook wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. And that was okay. Because, as Jimin had said, they already had each other—and that was all that mattered.

The next few days felt like a whirlwind, with Jungkook and Y/N caught between the excitement of being together and the uncertainty that came with it. Despite their intimate conversation, Y/N could tell something was still bothering him.

She found herself sitting at the dorm one evening, flipping through the latest webtoon on her phone, while Jungkook was in the studio, working on some new tracks. The quiet was comfortable but heavy, as if both of them were trying to avoid something unsaid.

The door creaked open, and Jimin peeked in, his mischievous smile immediately catching Y/N’s attention.

“Hey,” he said, stepping into the room like he owned the place. “You alone?”

“Jungkook’s working,” Y/N replied, setting her phone down.

Jimin nodded as if he expected that answer. “Busy as always, huh?”

Y/N smiled slightly. “Yeah. You know how he is. He won’t stop until it’s perfect.”

Jimin plopped down beside her, stretching his arms out across the back of the couch. “And how’s he been? Still overthinking?”

Y/N sighed. “A little. He’s been trying not to show it, but I can tell. I just don’t know how to make him see that there’s nothing to worry about.”

Jimin regarded her with a thoughtful expression, the playfulness fading slightly. “Kook’s been like that since forever. He overanalyzes everything, especially when it comes to people he cares about. He just doesn’t want to let you down.”

“I know,” Y/N murmured. “But he’s not letting me down. I wish he’d believe that.”

Jimin tilted his head, looking like he was weighing his words. “You know,” he said slowly, “sometimes it’s not about convincing him with words. You’ve got to show him that you’re in this for the long haul. Actions speak louder, right?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What are you suggesting, Jimin?”

His mischievous grin returned. “Maybe you need to challenge him. Push him out of his head a little. Make him realize that you’re here for all of it—the good and the bad.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And how do I do that?”

Jimin shrugged casually, but there was a glint in his eyes. “I don’t know… maybe something bold. Like, I don’t know, a dare.”

“A dare?” she repeated, not sure where this was going.

Jimin nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Jungkook thrives on competition, right? Daring him to do something he wouldn’t normally do might break that wall he’s been building in his head.”

Y/N considered it. “What kind of dare?”

Jimin leaned in conspiratorially. “Something that will make him stop overthinking and just act. You know, get him to be in the moment.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of pushing Jungkook out of his comfort zone. She knew Jimin was right—sometimes, the best way to get through to Jungkook was by shaking things up. A playful challenge might be exactly what they needed.

“All right,” she said, standing up with new determination. “Let’s do this.”

Later that night, Y/N found Jungkook still hunched over his desk in the studio, the soft glow of the monitor illuminating his focused expression. His headphones covered his ears, and he was bobbing his head slightly to the beat, completely engrossed in his work.

Y/N stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him with a fond smile. As much as she loved seeing him so passionate about his music, she knew he was using it as a way to avoid his feelings—his fears.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N walked up behind him and gently tapped his shoulder. Jungkook flinched slightly, pulling off his headphones and turning to face her.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice surprised but warm. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Y/N smiled. “You’re pretty focused, huh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry. I was just trying to get this right.”

“I know,” she said softly, sitting down beside him. “But I think you need a break.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by her tone. “A break? What did you have in mind?”

Y/N grinned mischievously, her heart pounding a little at what she was about to suggest. “How about… a dare?”

Jungkook blinked in surprise. “A dare?”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning in slightly. “You, me, a dare. Let’s make a bet.”

His eyes sparkled with interest, though a hint of hesitation remained. “What kind of bet?”

Y/N smirked. “You always beat me at everything—video games, sports, even karaoke. So this time, let’s see if you can beat me at something new.”

Jungkook’s competitive side kicked in immediately, the tension in his body easing as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “What’s the dare?”

Y/N’s heart raced. She hadn’t fully thought this through, but Jimin’s words echoed in her mind. She had to make him feel confident, make him act on his instincts rather than overthinking. Something bold.

“I dare you…” she began, looking him straight in the eye, “…to kiss me.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the sudden challenge. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking to her lips before quickly looking away.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, echoing the same question from before, his vulnerability showing again.

Y/N nodded, her voice steady even though her heart was racing. “I’m sure.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, clearly fighting with himself. But then, something shifted in his expression. The hesitation faded, replaced by the familiar fire of determination Y/N loved so much. Without another word, Jungkook leaned forward, cupping her face gently with one hand as his lips found hers.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, like he was still making sure this was real. But as Y/N responded, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, and all the doubts seemed to melt away.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Jungkook rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed. He didn’t say anything, but the relief and emotion on his face spoke volumes.

“You’re not going to lose me, Kook,” Y/N whispered softly. “You never were.”

Jungkook opened his eyes, meeting hers with a new sense of confidence. He smiled, a genuine smile that made her heart skip a beat.

“Okay,” he said, his voice low and full of warmth. “I believe you.”

And in that moment, Y/N knew they had crossed a line. It wasn’t just a kiss or a dare. It was a promise—one that neither of them would ever break.

The days following their kiss felt different. It wasn’t the usual shift that came after a relationship milestone; it was something deeper, something that grounded both Y/N and Jungkook in a way neither of them had expected.

Jungkook had always been intense—whether it was about his music, his workouts, or even the smallest things, like deciding what to eat. He poured himself into everything. But when it came to their relationship, that intensity had a new layer. After their kiss, it was as if a weight had lifted off him, and now he wore his love for her as openly as he did his passion for music.

One night, a few days later, Y/N found herself in Jungkook’s room at the dorms. The others were out, leaving them in the rare quiet that the dorm never usually had. Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, his guitar in his hands, absently strumming a few soft chords while Y/N lay sprawled on the bed, her head resting on one of the pillows as she watched him with a soft smile.

The way he focused when he played, his brow furrowing in concentration, was one of her favorite things about him. Music was his safe place. It always had been. But what she loved even more was how much he’d started to share it with her. Little things, like humming a melody he was working on or asking her what she thought of a lyric idea. It made her feel closer to him, more woven into the fabric of his life.

"How’s the song coming along?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Jungkook paused, looking up at her with a small smile. "It’s getting there. I was thinking of making the bridge a bit more stripped back, maybe just the guitar."

Y/N propped herself up on her elbows, curious. "Can I hear it?"

Jungkook’s eyes flicked to her, a hint of nervousness crossing his face, but then he relaxed. He trusted her. He knew she wasn’t here to judge, only to listen. Without saying anything, he began to play.

The melody was gentle, almost intimate, and Y/N closed her eyes as the notes filled the room. His voice, when he started singing, was low and soft, like he was sharing a secret only meant for her. The lyrics were simple but filled with emotion—about holding on, about being afraid but finding strength in love.

As he reached the bridge, the one he’d mentioned, the music faded into just the soft strum of the guitar, his voice almost a whisper now. And as the last chord rang out, there was a moment of stillness. Y/N opened her eyes to find Jungkook watching her closely, like he was waiting for her reaction.

“That was beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with awe.

Jungkook blushed, a soft chuckle escaping him as he set the guitar down beside him. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if it was too… soft.”

Y/N shook her head, sitting up fully now. “No, not at all. It’s perfect. It feels… real.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. There was no need for words. It was that same quiet understanding they’d shared since the beginning—the kind that didn’t need explanations.

“You inspire me, you know,” Jungkook said after a moment, his voice soft. “A lot of the time when I write, I’m thinking about us.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his confession. She smiled, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. “I’m happy I can be a part of it.”

Jungkook shifted closer to her on the bed, his hand reaching out to take hers. His fingers traced small circles on the back of her hand, a habit he’d developed whenever they were close. It was a simple gesture, but one that always made Y/N feel warm.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jungkook started, his voice quieter now, like he was unsure how to say what was on his mind.

“About what?” Y/N prompted, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking down to their joined hands before looking back up at her. “About the future. Us. I know I’ve been in my head a lot recently, and I don’t want you to think I’m doubting us, but… I just want to be sure that I’m doing right by you.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed at his words. She knew Jungkook’s biggest fear was not being enough, not living up to the expectations he set for himself. But she also knew that those fears were unfounded. He was everything she could ever want—kind, passionate, fiercely loyal. She didn’t need him to be perfect. She just needed him to be him.

“Kook,” she said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t expect you to have all the answers, and I don’t need you to be perfect. I just want you to be yourself. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, his breath steadying. When he opened his eyes again, there was a determination there—a quiet but strong resolve that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

“I know,” he said quietly. “But I want to make a promise to you, Y/N.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion. “A promise?”

Jungkook nodded, sitting up straighter now, his gaze never leaving hers. “I promise that I’ll always try. No matter what happens, no matter how hard things get, I’m going to keep trying. For us. For you.”

His words hung in the air, filled with sincerity and emotion. Y/N could feel the weight of them, the way they settled into her heart like an anchor. It wasn’t a grand declaration or a sweeping gesture, but it was real. And that meant more to her than anything.

She smiled, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. When she pulled back, she whispered, “I promise the same.”

Jungkook smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made her heart flutter all over again. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest as they sat there, holding each other in the quiet of the room.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. The promises they had made were enough. And as they sat there, wrapped up in each other, Y/N realized that she didn’t need anything more than this—this quiet, this connection, this love that they had built together.

Jungkook wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. And in the end, that was what made them perfect for each other.

The night after their quiet promises, everything between Y/N and Jungkook felt deeper, more solid, as if the quiet moments they shared had built an unbreakable foundation. They weren’t the type to rush things—they let their relationship evolve naturally, both of them learning to embrace the little things.

But despite the warmth of those moments, Y/N noticed something lingering in Jungkook’s eyes. There was a flicker of uncertainty, a shadow of fear that she knew all too well. It wasn’t loud, and he wasn’t vocal about it, but it was there, beneath the surface. And she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

One evening, as they were curled up on the couch watching a movie, Y/N’s attention was far from the screen. Her head rested on Jungkook’s shoulder, but her thoughts were on him—on the walls he was still holding up, even after their promises. He was trying, she knew that. But there was something he wasn’t saying.

She tilted her head to look up at him. His face was illuminated by the dim light of the TV, eyes focused but distant, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her arm as they sat together. He looked peaceful, but there was a tension in his posture that she couldn’t ignore.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Jungkook turned his head slightly, glancing down at her with a small smile. “Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to bring it up. But she couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when she knew he was still carrying something heavy. “You’ve been… quiet lately. Not just tonight, but in general. Is everything okay?”

Jungkook blinked, caught off guard by the question. He shifted a little, as if trying to brush off the concern, but Y/N wasn’t going to let him retreat into himself this time.

“I’m fine,” he said softly, though his tone lacked conviction. “Just been busy with work, you know?”

Y/N gave him a look, one that told him she wasn’t buying it. “Kook… you don’t have to pretend with me. I know when something’s bothering you.”

He looked away, his jaw clenching slightly. The silence stretched between them, and Y/N could feel him pulling back—not physically, but emotionally. It was a familiar dance, one that had happened before when he felt overwhelmed. But this time, she wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Talk to me,” she whispered, reaching for his hand and intertwining their fingers. “Please.”

Jungkook’s grip on her hand tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. His eyes stayed fixed on the TV screen, but she knew he wasn’t really watching it. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

Y/N’s heart clenched at the raw honesty in his words. She sat up a little, turning her body to face him fully. “Scared of what?”

Jungkook let out a long breath, his eyes still avoiding hers. “Of not being enough for you. Of screwing this up somehow. I know we’ve talked about it before, but… it’s still there. That fear. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Y/N felt her throat tighten as she listened to him. She had known he was struggling, but hearing the vulnerability in his voice—hearing how deeply his fears ran—hit her harder than she expected. She squeezed his hand, leaning in closer.

“You’re not going to lose me,” she said softly, her voice filled with as much conviction as she could muster. “You won’t.”

Jungkook finally turned to look at her, his eyes dark and filled with a depth of emotion that made her heart ache. “I just… I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And it scares me how much I care. I keep thinking… what if I mess up? What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t,” Y/N replied firmly, her gaze never wavering. “I know you, Jungkook. You’d never hurt me. And even if we have challenges, we’ll face them together. That’s what being in a relationship is about. We’ll have ups and downs, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Jungkook looked at her, his expression softening, but the doubt was still there, lingering in the back of his mind. “What if one day you wake up and realize I’m not enough for you? What if… what if you get tired of me?”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She reached up, cupping his face in her hands, her thumbs gently brushing against his skin. “That’s never going to happen. Jungkook, I love you. All of you. The way you care so deeply, the way you always put your whole heart into everything you do. I love you for who you are—not for some idea of perfection.”

Tears shimmered in Jungkook’s eyes, and he blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. He had always been so strong, so determined, but in moments like this, Y/N saw the vulnerability he tried to hide from the world.

“I’m not perfect,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

Y/N smiled softly, pressing her forehead against his. “You don’t have to be. I don’t want perfect. I just want you.”

For a long moment, they stayed like that, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling as they held onto each other. Jungkook’s hand tightened around hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in that familiar, comforting way.

“I’m trying,” he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion. “I’m really trying.”

“I know,” Y/N whispered back, her voice soft but steady. “And that’s enough for me.”

Jungkook’s eyes met hers again, and this time, there was something different in them—something stronger. The vulnerability was still there, but so was a quiet determination, a resolve to keep fighting for what they had.

He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, and when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers once more. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that made Y/N’s heart swell.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his cheek. “And we’re going to be okay. No matter what.”

As they sat there in the quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the TV in the background, Y/N felt a sense of peace settle over them. It wasn’t the kind of peace that came from having all the answers, but the kind that came from knowing they didn’t need to have them all right now.

They had each other. And for now, that was more than enough.

A few weeks passed, and while things between Y/N and Jungkook had become more open, more emotionally honest, there were still moments when Jungkook seemed distant. He was trying—Y/N could see it in the way he always made time for her, in the way his hands lingered on hers when they sat together, in the soft kisses he’d place on her forehead when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. But there was still a tension between them, a space that neither of them had quite figured out how to close.

One evening, after a particularly long day at the studio, Jungkook came home exhausted. Y/N was waiting for him in the kitchen, having made dinner for them both. She had hoped a quiet evening together would help them reconnect, but as soon as he walked in, she could tell something was off. His usual bright energy was dim, his shoulders tense, and the light that normally filled his eyes was clouded over with frustration.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, her voice soft as she approached him. She reached out, gently touching his arm.

Jungkook nodded, though the gesture was half-hearted. “Yeah… just tired,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “The song’s not coming together the way I want it to. Feels like I’m hitting a wall.”

Y/N frowned, sensing his frustration. “Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help.”

Jungkook shook his head, giving her a small, forced smile. “Nah, it’s fine. I just need to clear my head.”

Y/N bit her lip, watching him as he walked past her, heading for the bathroom to wash up. She knew he wasn’t just tired from work. It was something deeper, something that had been building for a while. The more they opened up to each other, the more it seemed like Jungkook was struggling with something inside himself—something he couldn’t quite name.

Later that night, they sat down for dinner, but the usual light banter between them was absent. The conversation was stilted, filled with small talk about work and schedules. Y/N could feel the growing distance, like an invisible wall had sprung up between them, and it was starting to weigh heavily on her heart.

After dinner, they sat on the couch, but instead of pulling her close like he usually did, Jungkook sat with a bit of space between them, his eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled through emails. Y/N tried to focus on the movie playing, but her attention kept drifting to him—to the way his jaw was clenched, the way his fingers drummed against his thigh in a nervous rhythm.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Kook,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “Can we talk?”

Jungkook looked up, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He set his phone down, his expression guarded. “Talk about what?”

Y/N sighed, her heart heavy. “About us. About… whatever’s going on.”

Jungkook frowned, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What do you mean? I thought things were good between us.”

“They are,” Y/N said quickly, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. “But lately, it feels like you’ve been… pulling away. Like there’s something on your mind that you’re not telling me.”

Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Y/N’s heart sank at the sight of him retreating into himself again.

“I just don’t want to put my stress on you,” Jungkook finally said, his voice low. “You already have enough to deal with, and I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

Y/N shook her head, reaching for his hand. “Kook, we’re in this together. You’re not burdening me. I want to help you, but I can’t if you won’t let me in.”

Jungkook sighed, his thumb gently brushing against her hand. “I know. I’m just… I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like I’m stuck between wanting to be the best version of myself for you and constantly feeling like I’m not enough. Every time I try to shake it off, it just comes back. It’s like… no matter how hard I try, I keep doubting myself.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She had known he was struggling, but hearing the depth of his insecurities made her realize just how hard he’d been trying to keep it all together for her. She squeezed his hand, pulling him closer to her.

“You don’t have to be perfect for me,” she said softly. “I’ve never asked you to be.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. “But it’s hard not to want to be. I see you and how patient you’ve been with me, how much you care… and I feel like I’m failing at giving you what you deserve.”

Y/N leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re not failing. You’re doing more than enough, Kook. I love you for who you are, not for who you think you should be.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping as if the weight he had been carrying finally became too heavy. “I’m just scared, Y/N. Scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m not worth it.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at his words. She could hear the pain in his voice, the fear that had been plaguing him for so long. But more than that, she could hear how much he loved her—how deeply he cared.

She reached out, cupping his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I’m never going to wake up and feel that way. Do you hear me? You’re more than worth it, Jungkook. You’ve always been.”

Jungkook looked at her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt. When he found none, his expression softened, and he leaned into her touch. “I don’t deserve you.”

Y/N shook her head, her fingers gently brushing against his skin. “That’s not true. You deserve to be loved, Kook. And I’m going to keep reminding you of that until you believe it.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Jungkook’s hand reached up to cover hers, holding it against his cheek as he closed his eyes, the tension in his body slowly melting away. Y/N could feel the shift in him, the way he was finally letting himself be vulnerable with her.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For loving me.”

Y/N smiled softly, her heart swelling with emotion. “Always.”

They sat there for a while longer, their hands intertwined, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air like a quiet promise. The space between them that had felt so large just moments ago was gone, replaced by a newfound understanding, a deeper connection.

Jungkook still had his insecurities, and Y/N knew it would take time for him to fully believe in himself the way she did. But she was patient, and she was willing to fight for him—for them. Because no matter how hard things got, she knew one thing for sure: they were worth it.

And as Jungkook pulled her closer, resting his head against hers, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her. They had a long way to go, but for now, they had each other. And that was more than enough.

As the weeks passed, Y/N and Jungkook’s relationship settled into a more comfortable rhythm. They’d navigated the hardest parts, or so it seemed, and there was a new closeness between them. Jungkook’s insecurities hadn’t disappeared overnight, but he was trying. He was more open with Y/N, letting her in on his doubts when they arose instead of shutting her out.

But life wasn’t always as smooth as they wanted it to be. Between his schedule with BTS and her own busy life, they rarely had time to themselves. Jungkook’s stress, though manageable now, ebbed and flowed with the demands of their world.

One evening, after a long day of rehearsals, Jungkook was unusually quiet again. Y/N had gotten used to recognizing the signs—his hands fidgeting more than usual, his lips pressed together in a tight line, and his gaze distant, even when they were in the same room. He’d come home later than expected, exhaustion written across his face as he dropped his bag by the door and muttered a quick “hey.”

Y/N stood up from the couch, concern lacing her features. “Kook? You okay?”

Jungkook nodded, but it was the same kind of half-hearted response he gave when something was bothering him. “Yeah, just tired.”

She walked over to him, brushing her hand against his arm. “You sure? You seem a little off.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “It’s just a lot, Y/N. I’ve got this comeback, we’re filming stuff for the tour… I feel like I’m drowning sometimes.”

Y/N nodded, understanding the weight he carried. Being in one of the world’s biggest groups came with intense pressure, and while he loved it, she knew it wasn’t easy. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jungkook shook his head. “I don’t know if talking will help. I just—” He broke off, his frustration evident. “I just feel like I’m not doing enough. Like no matter how hard I try, I’m always falling short.”

Y/N felt a familiar pang in her chest. They’d been here before—this cycle of self-doubt, of Jungkook feeling like he wasn’t living up to some impossible standard he’d set for himself. She stepped closer, gently placing her hands on his chest. “Kook, you’re doing everything you can. You’ve been working so hard.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked away, as if he didn’t quite believe her. “I know you say that, but… what if it’s not enough? What if I’m not enough?”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She knew how deeply he felt things, how much he put on his own shoulders, but it hurt to see him like this—to see the person she loved so fiercely doubting himself over and over again.

“You are enough,” she said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. “More than enough, Jungkook. You don’t have to be perfect all the time. You’re allowed to be tired, to feel overwhelmed. But please don’t think for a second that you’re not enough.”

Jungkook’s eyes softened as he looked at her, but she could still see the turmoil swirling behind them. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. “I’m trying,” he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. “I’m trying so hard.”

Y/N’s hand slid up to the back of his neck, her fingers gently threading through his hair. “I know you are. And I’m so proud of you for that. But you don’t have to carry all of this on your own. You have me. Let me help you.”

For a moment, Jungkook didn’t respond. His eyes closed, and she could feel the tension in his body slowly start to ease. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and for a while, they just stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the kitchen.

But the calm didn’t last long.

Later that night, after they’d settled into bed, Jungkook’s phone buzzed with a notification. It was from one of the producers he’d been working with, asking for a revision on a track they’d been finalizing. Y/N watched as his expression darkened, his earlier exhaustion settling back into his features.

“I thought we were done with this song,” Jungkook muttered under his breath as he typed a reply, his frustration building. “Why can’t they just let it be?”

Y/N sat up, her heart sinking. She hated seeing him like this, so on edge, so consumed by the pressure to be perfect. “Maybe you should take a break from it tonight,” she suggested gently. “You’ve been working on it non-stop.”

“I can’t,” Jungkook snapped, more harshly than he intended. He immediately regretted it, his eyes flickering to hers with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Y/N interrupted, her voice soft. “I get it. You’re stressed.”

Jungkook sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just… it’s never enough. No matter what I do, there’s always something else. And I’m scared, Y/N. Scared that I’m going to let everyone down—you, the members, ARMY—everyone.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in his voice. She reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “You’re not letting anyone down, Kook. You’re doing everything you can, and everyone knows that. But you can’t keep running yourself into the ground like this. It’s okay to take a step back.”

Jungkook looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and desperation. “I don’t know how,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Y/N’s heart broke at his words. She could see how much he was struggling, how hard he was fighting to keep everything together, but she knew he couldn’t keep going like this. He needed to rest, to breathe, to let himself be human.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” she said softly, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “I’m here for you. Always.”

For a long moment, Jungkook didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, his eyes filled with emotion, before finally pulling her into his arms. He buried his face in her hair, his breath shaky as he held her tightly.

“I’m scared of disappointing you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was barely audible. “I’m scared of losing you.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at his confession, tears welling up in her eyes. She pulled back slightly, cupping his face in her hands. “You’re never going to lose me, Jungkook. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened, his hands gently gripping her waist as he rested his forehead against hers. “Promise?”

“I promise,” Y/N whispered, her voice filled with unwavering certainty.

They stayed like that for a while, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air like a storm that had finally passed. The tension between them had eased, and though there were still challenges ahead, Y/N knew they would face them together.

As they lay back down, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jungkook’s breathing eventually evened out, the exhaustion of the day finally taking its toll. Y/N stayed awake for a little while longer, her fingers gently running through his hair as she watched him sleep.

She knew there were still struggles ahead, that Jungkook’s fears wouldn’t disappear overnight. But she also knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t going to let him face them alone.

And that thought, more than anything, gave her peace.

The following days felt like a delicate balance—like walking on a tightrope between Jungkook’s intense schedule and the fragile emotional state he’d been carrying for weeks. Y/N did everything she could to be his support, but it wasn’t always easy. Every day was a new challenge for him, and even with their quiet moments of connection, Y/N could feel the pressure building inside him again.

One evening, after a particularly draining day at the studio, Jungkook came home looking worse than ever. His usual spark was completely gone, replaced by an exhaustion that weighed heavily in his eyes and posture. He threw his jacket on the couch and immediately headed for the bedroom without saying a word.

Y/N frowned, watching him go. She knew he was trying, but lately, it felt like every step forward came with two steps back. The fear that had been creeping into her heart was now an undeniable presence—what if this was too much for them to handle?

Taking a deep breath, she followed him into the bedroom. Jungkook was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands tangled in his hair. The silence between them felt suffocating, and for a moment, Y/N wasn’t sure what to say.

“Jungkook?” she called out softly, stepping closer.

He didn’t look up, his voice tired and strained. “I can’t do this anymore, Y/N.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping further. “This… all of it. The pressure, the constant feeling of not being enough, the expectations. I feel like I’m losing myself. And I’m scared that… I’m dragging you down with me.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, her pulse quickening. She could see the weight of his words—this wasn’t just about his career or the stress of being an idol. It was about them. The relationship they had fought so hard to build. And in that moment, Y/N realized just how deep his fear of failing had grown.

“Kook,” she said, sitting down beside him and placing a gentle hand on his back. “You’re not dragging me down. I’m here because I want to be with you, no matter how hard things get.”

Jungkook shook his head, his voice breaking slightly. “But I feel like I’m breaking, Y/N. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if I can.”

Y/N’s heart ached as she watched him unravel before her. She had seen him struggle before, but this was different. This was deeper—like all the cracks he had been trying to hide were finally showing, and he didn’t know how to hold them together anymore.

“Then let me help you,” she whispered, her hand gently running up and down his back in a soothing motion. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Jungkook turned his head slightly, finally looking at her with eyes that were filled with so much pain, it made Y/N’s chest tighten. “What if I can’t? What if… I’m too far gone?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. She didn’t want to believe that. She couldn’t believe that. Jungkook wasn’t too far gone—he was just lost in the chaos of everything he had been carrying for so long. But she could see how much it was hurting him, how much it was hurting them.

“You’re not too far gone,” she said firmly, taking his face in her hands. “You’re just… tired. You’re overwhelmed. And that’s okay. But you don’t have to keep punishing yourself for feeling that way.”

Jungkook’s lips parted slightly, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. He looked like he wanted to believe her, but something held him back, something that ran deeper than just the stress of his job. It was the same fear he’d been carrying all along—the fear that no matter how hard he tried, it would never be enough. Not for his career, not for his fans, and not for Y/N.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you too much to drag you through this.”

Y/N shook her head, her fingers gently brushing against his cheek. “You’re not hurting me, Kook. I’m here because I love you. I choose to be here, through all of this. But I need you to trust me. Trust that we can get through this together.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, his forehead resting against hers. His breath was shaky, and Y/N could feel the tension in his body as he tried to hold it together.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I feel like I’m slipping away from myself.”

Y/N’s heart shattered at his words, and she pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly. “You’re not losing me,” she murmured against his shoulder. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll find a way to get through it.”

For a long moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them heavy but comforting. Y/N could feel Jungkook’s body relax slightly in her embrace, but she knew the battle he was fighting inside wasn’t over. He was still struggling, still carrying the weight of his own expectations and the fear of not being enough.

But Y/N wasn’t going to let him face it alone.

“I’m scared too, you know,” she admitted softly, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared of losing you, scared of not being enough for you. But I’m not giving up on us. No matter how hard it gets.”

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. “You shouldn’t have to carry my problems, Y/N. You deserve better than this.”

“I don’t want better,” Y/N replied, her voice filled with conviction. “I want you.”

Jungkook’s eyes softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N saw a flicker of hope in them. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to hold onto.

He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers once more, his hands gently cradling her face.

“I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “I don’t deserve you.”

Y/N shook her head, her heart swelling with love for him. “You don’t have to thank me, Kook. Just let me love you. That’s all I want.”

Jungkook’s grip on her tightened, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. It was just them, holding onto each other in the quiet of their room, their hearts beating in sync despite the chaos that surrounded them.

And in that moment, Y/N knew that no matter how hard things got, they were going to make it. Because they had each other.

And that was all they needed.

In the days that followed, a subtle shift began to take place in their relationship. Jungkook, while still struggling with the pressure of his career, started to lean on Y/N more. He let her in—bit by bit—and it was a relief for both of them. But it didn’t mean that the weight he carried lessened. It only meant that now, they were carrying it together.

It was another late night when Y/N found herself sitting on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone while waiting for Jungkook to return from the studio. They had been having more of these quiet evenings lately, with him working late and her trying to keep herself busy in his absence.

When the front door finally clicked open, Y/N glanced up to see him step inside, looking every bit as drained as he had the night before. His hair was damp from the rain outside, droplets trickling down his neck, but what worried her more was the distant look in his eyes. It was the same haunted expression he’d had before, the one that told her he was spiraling inward again.

“Kook?” she asked softly, standing up and walking toward him.

He didn’t respond immediately, instead kicking off his shoes and running a hand through his wet hair. He dropped his bag by the door and stared at the floor, the silence between them heavy and suffocating.

“Jungkook, talk to me,” Y/N urged, her voice gentle but firm as she placed a hand on his arm.

Finally, he looked up at her, and the sadness in his eyes made her heart ache. “I’m trying, Y/N,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her hands instinctively reaching out to take his. “It’s enough, Kook. You’re enough.”

Jungkook shook his head, his jaw tightening. “How can you say that when I feel like I’m falling apart? When every day I’m pushing myself to the edge just to keep up? I can’t even remember the last time I felt… happy.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. Hearing him admit that hurt more than she’d anticipated. She had known he was struggling, but to hear that he couldn’t remember feeling truly happy? It was like a punch to the gut.

“I hate seeing you like this,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “I hate that you’re carrying all of this alone.”

“I’m not alone,” Jungkook said, his gaze softening as he squeezed her hands. “I have you. And I’m so grateful for that. But it’s not fair to you. I feel like I’m dragging you down with me.”

Y/N shook her head, stepping closer to him. “You’re not dragging me down, Kook. I choose to be here, remember? I’m not going anywhere, no matter how hard it gets. We’re in this together.”

Jungkook let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing as if he was trying to hold himself together. Y/N could see the exhaustion etched into every part of him—the physical and emotional toll it was taking. She gently cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over his damp cheeks.

“You’re not alone,” she repeated softly, her voice filled with conviction. “And you don’t have to do this alone. We’ll figure it out, one day at a time.”

Jungkook opened his eyes, and for a moment, the vulnerability in his gaze nearly broke her. He looked like he was holding on by a thread, like he wanted so desperately to believe her but didn’t know how.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to fix it all at once,” Y/N replied, her heart aching for him. “You just need to take a breath, step back, and let yourself feel everything. You don’t always have to be the strongest person in the room, Kook.”

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “I’m not strong, Y/N. Not like people think I am.”

Y/N frowned, her hands tightening around his. “You are strong. Stronger than you give yourself credit for. But strength doesn’t mean you have to carry everything alone. It’s okay to lean on the people who care about you.”

Jungkook stared at her for a long moment, his expression torn between wanting to believe her and the weight of everything he had been carrying for so long. His shoulders slumped, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I’m so tired,” he whispered against her hair, his voice trembling. “I don’t know how to stop feeling like this.”

Y/N’s arms wrapped around him, her hand gently rubbing his back in soothing circles. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” she murmured. “But we’ll get through this. One step at a time.”

Jungkook buried his face in her shoulder, and for a long moment, they stood there, holding onto each other as if the world outside didn’t exist. Y/N could feel the tension slowly leaving his body, and though she knew the road ahead wasn’t going to be easy, she also knew that they were stronger together.

Eventually, Jungkook pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. “Thank you,” he said softly. “For everything.”

Y/N smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You don’t have to thank me, Kook. I’m here because I love you. And that’s never going to change.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered.

“You’ll never have to find out,” Y/N replied, her voice steady and full of love. “We’re in this together. Always.”

Jungkook nodded, his arms tightening around her once more as he pulled her into his chest. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the storm inside Jungkook’s heart slowly began to calm.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like they were going to be okay. They didn’t have all the answers, and the road ahead was still uncertain, but they had each other. And that, she realized, was all they needed.

In the days that followed, there was a noticeable shift between Y/N and Jungkook. It wasn’t as if all of their problems had disappeared, but there was a newfound understanding in the air, a quiet agreement to face things together, even if the way forward remained unclear. Jungkook wasn’t suddenly free of the burden he’d been carrying for so long, but the weight of it seemed just a bit lighter now.

Jungkook had started opening up more. He talked about his fears and doubts, his worries about the future, and the constant feeling that no matter what he did, it wouldn’t be enough. And Y/N listened—really listened—without judgment, offering comfort and reassurance whenever he needed it.

It was a fragile peace, but it was peace nonetheless.

One evening, Jungkook and Y/N were sitting together on the couch, a blanket draped over their laps as they watched the rain gently patter against the window. The TV was on, but neither of them was really paying attention. It was one of those quiet nights where the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in the cozy warmth of their apartment.

Jungkook was resting his head against Y/N’s shoulder, his hand absentmindedly playing with the hem of her sweater. His eyes were half-closed, and Y/N could feel the rise and fall of his chest, steady and calm. He looked peaceful, and for once, Y/N wasn’t worried about what thoughts were running through his mind.

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if things were different?” Jungkook asked suddenly, his voice low and thoughtful.

Y/N glanced down at him, surprised by the question. “Different how?”

Jungkook shrugged, his fingers still lightly tracing patterns on her sleeve. “I don’t know. Like, if I wasn’t… me. If I wasn’t Jungkook from BTS. Just… a normal guy.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, considering his words. She had never really thought about it, but she knew that the weight of his fame was something he struggled with more than he let on. Being Jungkook of BTS was all he had known for so long, and sometimes, she wondered if he even remembered who he was outside of that.

“Do you wish things were different?” she asked quietly.

Jungkook was silent for a moment, his eyes distant as he stared out at the rain. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Sometimes I think about what it would be like to just… live a quiet life. No cameras, no expectations. Just… us.”

Y/N’s heart softened at his words. She could see the appeal of it—the idea of a simpler life, away from the constant scrutiny and pressure that came with being in the spotlight. But at the same time, she knew how much Jungkook loved what he did, how much he cared about his music and his fans.

“I think… no matter what life you lived, you’d still be amazing,” Y/N said softly. “Because it’s not the fame that makes you special, Kook. It’s you.”

Jungkook looked up at her, his eyes searching hers for a long moment before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You always know what to say,” he murmured.

Y/N smiled back, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I just know you.”

Jungkook’s hand found hers under the blanket, his fingers intertwining with hers as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion.

Y/N leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “You don’t have to do anything to deserve love, Jungkook. You just have to let yourself be loved.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, leaning into her touch as if her presence alone could chase away the darkness that still lingered in the corners of his mind. He didn’t say anything for a while, and Y/N didn’t push him. She knew how difficult it was for him to open up about his fears, how deeply rooted his insecurities were. But little by little, he was letting her in, and that was enough for now.

After a while, Jungkook shifted slightly, sitting up straighter as he looked at her with a more serious expression. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, his tone cautious. “About… taking a break.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. “A break?”

Jungkook nodded, his gaze flickering to the floor. “From everything. Work, music, the schedule… I don’t know how long, but I think I need to step away for a while. Just to breathe. To figure things out.”

Y/N could hear the hesitation in his voice, the uncertainty that came with the idea of stepping back from something he had dedicated his entire life to. But at the same time, she could see how much he needed it—how desperately he was craving a moment of stillness in a world that never seemed to slow down.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Y/N said gently, reaching out to take his hand. “If that’s what you need, then you should do it.”

Jungkook looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and fear. “What if… what if I lose everything? What if I take this break, and when I come back, it’s all gone?”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “You won’t lose everything,” she assured him. “Your fans love you, Kook. They’ll wait for you. And the people who care about you—your friends, your family, me—we’ll always be here. You’re not going to lose us.”

Jungkook’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though the worry didn’t completely leave his eyes. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

“You won’t,” Y/N said firmly. “Taking care of yourself doesn’t mean you’re letting anyone down. It just means you’re putting yourself first for once. And you deserve that.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, as if he was trying to let her words sink in. He leaned back against the couch, his head resting against the cushions as he let out a long breath.

“I think I’m going to talk to the company about it,” he said after a moment. “I don’t know if they’ll go for it, but… I have to try.”

Y/N smiled softly, feeling a sense of pride swell in her chest. It wasn’t easy for Jungkook to admit when he needed help, let alone ask for a break from something as monumental as his career. But the fact that he was willing to take that step—to prioritize his mental health—meant more than anything.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

Jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting hers with a soft, grateful smile. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

“You don’t have to,” Y/N replied, her voice filled with love. “I’m with you, every step of the way.”

As the rain continued to fall outside, Y/N and Jungkook sat together in the warmth of their home, the weight of the world feeling just a little bit lighter in that moment. They didn’t know what the future held, but for now, they had each other. And that was enough.

Part 1

Part 2

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Sweet Mistakes

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: In the bustling streets of Hollywood, The Daily Grind café offers solace to those seeking peace—famous or not. Y/N, co-owner of the cozy shop, wasn't expecting a masked Jenna Ortega, a regular, hiding in plain sight. Is it just you, or did the spilled sugar not turn out to be the only thing that sweetened your day?

Word Count: 1.1k

The smell of espresso hit me like a warm hug the second I opened the door to The Daily Grind. We'd only been open for three weeks, but the place already felt like my second home. Wilma, my best friend and now business partner, had really nailed it with the cozy vibe— mix of warm lighting and cushy chairs that practically begged you to sit down and spill your deepest secrets into a cup of coffee. We were doing pretty well for ourselves. A lot of it had to do with how we ran things. We prided ourselves on being a low-key spot where even the biggesr stars could come in and out without anyone batting an eye. No paparazzi, No instagram Stans, just people famous—or not trying to enjoy their coffee.

We've had a few people challenge our "No photos, videos, or interrupting other customers of any caliber." rule—a sign clearly displayed at the top of the menu and outside the café. The moment a camera was raised, we'd calmly walk over and politely ask them to leave. If that didn't work, we had a quiet agreement with the boutique's security guard next door—one glare from him, and they usually scurried off. Our café was a sanctuary, and no one would ruin that for our customers. After all, our motto was "We serve coffee, not fame. Take a sip." Today had been like any other day: customers trickling in, ordering their usual, and leaving with smiles. But something was different tonight. Maybe it was the way the door chimed a little softer than usual or the quick sound of shuffling footsteps. I didn't look up right away, as I was too busy balancing a stack of to-go cups while trying not to trip over that corner of the rug that always seemed to curl up, which, let's be honest, was my usual struggle. But I felt it—a shift in the atmosphere. Someone was trying way too hard not to be noticed. I peeked over my shoulder just in time to catch a figure in a hoodie, sunglasses, and a face mask slipping into the booth in the back corner.

I chuckled lightly, nearly knocking over the cups I had stacked. Of course, someone who tried not to stand out only made them stand out more. But hey, this was Hollywood; people like to stay incognito. I walked up beside Wilma as she finished giving a customer their order. She was also watching the spectacle; Wilma leaned in, wiping her hands on a towel. "That hoodie's been here three times this week. Any hunch who it could be?" We, of course, leave celebrities alone here, but we like to talk between ourselves to try and figure out who it is. I shake my head. "No, but they're definitely someone. No one hides like that unless they're trying not to be recognized." Wilma smirked. "Duh—You can tell by how they keep looking over their shoulder." Our eyes met, and she gave me a knowing look. Her smirk grew into a giant grin. "Your turn, mascot," she said, tossing her towel over her shoulder as she walked away. I blinked, confused. "Wait, what? What is that supposed to mean?" She stopped briefly. "Maybe you'll have better luck talking to them. After all, you are the people's favorite barista and a great icebreaker. She looks anxious, so work your little charisma magic." And with that, she disappeared into the back, leaving me staring at the mysterious figure, wondering how I'd gotten roped into this.

As I walked over, I flipped to a new page in my notepad and repeated my mantra when serving customers: Treat everyone the same, whether they're the guy from down the street or some A-lister hiding from the world. No fuss, no fanfare. I tried to stay calm not to scare them out of the café. There was no need to be weird or awkward about it I'm just going to—oh. As I slid up to the table, I managed to knock over the sugar container. Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth. With a quick glance, I crouched down to pick it up, hoping I hadn't drawn attention to either of us. When I stood back up, the figure in the hoodie had their head down, but I could feel them watching me. Great, now I spooked them. "Uh, sorry about that," I chuckled nervously, brushing the sugar off my apron. "That usually only happens on Wednesdays, more than I'd like to admit." A soft giggle escaped from under the mask. Before I could attempt to piece the giggle to a voice she pulled down her mask just enough for me to see her face.

Jenna Ortega.

I blinked, not sure why my brain of all times decided to short-circuit now.

Jenna—freakin'—Ortega was sitting in my café, laughing at my stupid joke.

"Don't worry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've seen worse." I swallowed, trying to play it cool, even though my hands were suddenly very sweaty. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't expecting..." I trailed off, realizing how dumb I sounded. I mean, who was I expecting? Jenna looked around cautiously, lowering her mask completely once she realized no one had recognized her. "I just...needed to get away for a bit. You guys are pretty discreet." I nodded, my heart still racing. "Yeah, absolutely. This is a judgment-free zone. No one here will treat you like, you know...you." A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and I tried not to stare. "Good. I could use a place like that right now." "Well, you found it," I said, sending her a warm smile. "Is the other barista not here today?" she asked, fumbling with the strings of her hoodie. "Wilma? Yeah, she's hiding in the back. I can go get her if you'd like?" she softly cleared her throat, "No, that's alright, she just knows my usual." "Well, I promise not to screw it up." I smiled, flipping back to a blank notepad page. "Alright, I'll hold you to that. I'll have an iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream." She smiled back at me. I nodded, jotting it down and turning back to the counter. "Coming right up." As I worked on her drink, I couldn't help but glance back over. There she was, sitting quietly, reading a book with her headphones around her neck, looking a lot more calm. Just another person needing some space and quiet in a world of phones, lights, and cameras 24/7. It felt great that our little café was something special for people. Not just because of the stars who might show up but because we somehow created a space where people could just be. And that? That was worth all the spilled sugar in the world.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Omg Ivy I love how well you write your marauders fics! You’re amazing! Specially your wolfstar x reader!!!

Could you write another one, please? Like, reader is Remus’s best friend but she hates Sirius (he’s dating Remus), or she thinks she does, but in reality she’s jealous of him because he gets to touch Remus like she has always wanted to. And consequently Sirius thinks he hates her too, but in fact he’s just trying to hide the fact he’s on his feet for her as well. One day Remus is done with both of them and lock the three of them in a room and spill to them he is in love with both of them and can’t have them fighting anymore. And after that reader and Sirius end up confessing their own feelings for each other and they start dating after many kisses.

thank you so much for the request!! and the idea was so fun to write 💕 ps. i suck at summaries

𝟷.𝟿𝚔 || 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You thought you were jealous of Sirius for stealing away Remus's attention but maybe you just needed to admit your feelings for both of them.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Wolfstar x Reader

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with life, as usual, but it felt distant to you. You sat slumped on the couch, tapping your quill impatiently against your parchment, though not a single word had been written in the last half hour.

It was him. It was always him. Sirius Black, with his annoying smirk, his too-cool-for-school attitude, and the way he seemed to monopolize every moment of Remus’ time.

It was infuriating.

Remus was your best friend. You’d been through thick and thin together, shared secrets, laughed until your stomachs hurt. Yet now, whenever you were around him, Sirius was there too. The two of them always seemed to be in some intimate conversation or worse—touching. A hand on Remus’ shoulder, Sirius’ fingers threading casually through Remus’ hair. It was like a constant, silent reminder that you were on the outside looking in.

And you hated it. Hated how much Sirius made you feel like you didn’t belong, like you weren’t enough for Remus anymore.

“You know, glaring holes into parchment isn’t going to make it write itself.”

That voice. Smooth, low, with that aggravating lilt of arrogance. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“Go away, Black,” you muttered, still staring at the blank parchment.

Sirius flopped onto the couch opposite you, arms spread wide like he owned the place. “Come on, I’m just trying to be helpful. Your brooding is becoming a bit of a spectacle.”

You finally looked up, your eyes narrowing. “Oh, I’m sure my brooding is nothing compared to the grand theatrics you put on every time you walk into a room.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the verbal sparring. “Theatrics? Or natural charm? It’s a fine line.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Actually,” he leaned in with a smirk, “it’s Remus that helps me sleep at night.”

Your stomach twisted at that, the reminder of their relationship hitting harder than it should have. You hated that it hurt, hated that Sirius knew exactly how to push your buttons. But instead of backing down, you crossed your arms and fired back, “You mean, he puts up with you at night. Big difference.”

Sirius chuckled darkly, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“And you’re unbearable.”

“Can’t handle a bit of competition?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly masked it with a sneer. “You? Competition? Please.”

“Oh, but I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Sirius said, his voice lowering. “You don’t hate me, do you? You just can’t stand the fact that I’m the one who gets to touch him.”

You didn't want to admit it, but maybe he was right.

The common room is quiet once again, save for the soft crackling of the fireplace and the occasional creak of floorboards as you shift uncomfortably in your chair. You're supposed to be studying, but your mind drifts far from textbooks and quills. Instead, it wanders to Remus who has somehow slipped from your grasp and into the arms of Sirius Black. Sirius bloody Black.

A sigh escapes your lips, frustration bubbling up inside you. It makes no sense. You’ve never particularly liked him. Sure, he’s handsome in an annoying, arrogant sort of way. With his dark hair that constantly falls into his grey eyes, he has the ability to make anyone—especially you—seethe with irritation. But it’s not just that. It's the way he has Remus.

You throw down your quill in irritation, glaring at your dorm room door. Any second now, Remus will walk in with Sirius at his side, and they'll sit together, talking quietly while you pretend not to care. It’s always like this. The three of you, but somehow, you always feel like the third wheel.

Your dorm door opens, and as if summoned by your thoughts, in walk Remus and Sirius. They're laughing at something you can't hear, and a pang shoots through your chest. You try to swallow it down, but the resentment lingers.

"Hey," Remus greets, his warm smile easing the tension in your shoulders just a little. He's the only person who can do that. The only person who has always been there for you.

"Hi," you manage, avoiding Sirius' gaze.

Sirius flops down onto the bed beside Remus, far too close for your liking. His arm brushes against Remus' casually, and you clench your jaw. He glances at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, his lips twitch, as if he’s about to say something, but he remains silent.

It's like this every time. You can't stand being around them when they're together, but you can't stand the idea of not being around Remus either. The tension builds with each passing day, and it's driving you insane. Especially because you don’t know what to make of the flutter in your stomach whenever Sirius speaks to you.

"Are you alright?" Remus asks, his eyes filled with concern. Of course, he notices.

"I'm fine," you say, a little too quickly. "Just tired."

Sirius snorts from his side of the bed, and you shoot him a glare.

"What's your problem?" you snap.

"My problem?" He raises an eyebrow, giving you that signature Sirius Black smirk that makes you want to smack him and… kiss him? You mentally slap yourself. No. No way.

"You’re being a brat," he says casually, leaning back with his arms behind his head, as though he owns the room.

"You're insufferable, Black," you spit out. Remus looks between the two of you, his brow furrowing. He’s always been the mediator between you and Sirius. But lately, even he seems to be getting tired of the constant bickering.

"Okay, enough," Remus says, his voice tight with frustration. He stands, looking between you and Sirius, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I’m done."

You blink, startled by the sudden change in his demeanor. "What are you talking about?"

"You two," Remus snaps, his eyes flashing. "This—this constant fighting. I can't take it anymore."

Your heart skips a beat as Sirius sits up, his smug expression fading.

"Moony—" Sirius starts, but Remus cuts him off.

"No. Both of you listen." He runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "I can't… I can't do this anymore. I'm in love with both of you, and it’s tearing me apart to see you two at each other's throats all the time."

The silence that follows is suffocating. Your heart is racing, pounding in your chest so loudly you're sure everyone in the room can hear it. Did you hear him right?

"What?" you whisper, barely able to get the word out.

Remus looks at you, his expression softer now but still pained. "I love you both. And I can't stand the thought of choosing between you."

Sirius looks just as shocked as you feel. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. For once, Sirius Black is speechless.

You stand abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "You—you love us both?" Your mind is spinning. This can’t be real.

Remus nods, his eyes locked on yours. "Yes. But you both… you hate each other."

Your chest tightens at the way he says that. Does he think you truly hate Sirius? Do you even hate him? You glance at Sirius, and for the first time, you catch a flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable.

"I don’t…" you start, your voice wavering. "I don’t hate him."

The room feels like it’s closing in on you. All those moments of frustration and anger, all the times you’ve snapped at Sirius, all the snide remarks—it wasn’t hate. It was jealousy. Jealousy because he got to be with Remus in a way you never could. And maybe, just maybe, because you’ve been denying your own feelings for Sirius all along.

Sirius stands, his grey eyes locked on yours. "I don't hate you either," he admits quietly, his usual cockiness gone. "I… I’ve been lying to myself. Trying to pretend I didn’t… want you."

The air between the three of you shifts, the weight of the confession hanging heavy in the room. You feel dizzy, your heart racing as you try to process what’s happening.

"Remus," you breathe, looking back at him. "I… I love you too. I always have."

His face softens, and he steps closer to you, but before he can say anything, Sirius speaks again.

"And I… I love you too," Sirius says, his voice low but filled with emotion. "But it's not just Remus. It's you. I’ve been a coward about it. I didn’t want to admit it."

You stare at him, your breath catching in your throat. His words hang in the air, and suddenly, everything falls into place. The fighting, the tension, the way your heart flips every time Sirius speaks or even looks at you. You weren’t fighting because you hated him. You were fighting because you were terrified of what you felt for him.

"I…" You struggle to find the words, your emotions a tangled mess inside you. But before you can say anything, Sirius takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. His touch is soft, careful, as though he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

But you don’t. Instead, you lean into his touch, your breath hitching in your throat as you look up at him. His eyes are softer now, the usual arrogance replaced with something raw, something real.

And then, before you can think, before you can process what’s happening, Sirius leans in and kisses you. It’s tentative at first, a question in the way his lips brush against yours. But when you don’t pull away, when you kiss him back, he deepens the kiss, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer.

Your heart is racing, your mind spinning. This is Sirius. Sirius Black. The boy you thought you hated. The boy you thought you could never stand. But now, all you can think about is how right this feels.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, and you look over to Remus, who’s watching with a small smile on his face. He steps forward, pulling you into his arms, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I love you both," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "And I don’t want to lose either of you."

Tears prick your eyes as you lean into him, your heart swelling with love for both of them. You’re not sure how this will work, or what it means for the future, but in this moment, with Remus’ arms around you and Sirius by your side, it feels right.

You pull back slightly, glancing between the two of them, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "Well," you say, wiping at your eyes. "I guess we’re going to have to figure this out."

Sirius grins, that familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "I think we’ll manage," he says, leaning in to kiss you again, this time slower, more confident.

[k-atsukibakugou]

it's all in your head, i'm inside your head and you're never gonna get me out

pairing: hitoshi shinso x f!reader w/c: 2.1k warning/s: DUBCON/NONCON, brainwashing, female!reader, prohero!mindjack, just a lot of staring lmao, please lmk if i missed anything notes: based on this thirst inspo/acknowledgements: MY LOVER @definitelynotsaint FOR ALL UR HELP I WOULD BE NOTHING WITHOUT YOU MARRY ME PLEASE <3 + earworm by cottontail

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

"you seriously think you could beat him?!"

"you act like he's huge, kami, i have more chance with brainwashing than electrification. if i stay quiet, what's he going to do?"

"have you ever fought the guy?"

the argument had been going on for about… twenty minutes now, most of your other friends already filtering out of your place, but you'd trapped the blond, and subsequently shinso with your argument over the hypothetical: would you rather fight kaminari or shinso?

this was by far the most passionate you'd been so far, answering earlier versions of the question effortlessly: would you rather wear kirishima or mina's costume to a wedding (mina's), have an uncontrollable quirk with raw power or a perfected, slightly below average quirk (master of one). the moment sero proposed the final question, your eyes landed on his, your eyes glowing with smugness when they met his bored amethyst iris's, a spark of interest when you parted your lips to argue your point.

shinso remained reserved throughout your argument with the blond, studying a chip in the deep purple paint on his thumb idly, breathing slowly, evenly, apathetically despite his ears burning any time you'd say his name (his heart rate spiking every time, even with each word out of your mouth being a teasing jab of his lack of sheer power in comparison to you).

"why don't you test it sometime?" his voice is gravelly, nearly cracking after sitting in silence for so long, quietly nursing the last few mouthfuls of his drink while he peered at you; the animated way you spoke, the sparkle in your eyes every time you'd tease him, the curve of your neck when you'd toss your head back at something someone said. swallowing the final drops of the amber liquor, your attention is drawn back to him, proud smirk and all.

"what? you don't think i could fight you?"

shinso quirks an eyebrow at you, an uncontrollable, self-assured grin lazily gracing his lips, "i don't think you could keep quiet."

your mouth drops open to defend yourself, your glare growing more and more fiery as you spin to face him. he could prove it right now, brainwash you the moment the first syllable leaves your mouth, command you to remain completely still while he binds you, leave you wrapped neatly in the binding cloth to wake up in, leave you stuck while he revels in his victory. he could do it right now, annul your challenge before it could become anything, before your ego could swell even bigger.

"is that a challenge, mind jack?"

no, it's no fun to melt your wings before they're built, not until you're halfway in the air, dangling precariously over the raging sea, completely ignorant to the dangers below, complete trust in your makeshift wings.

offering you his hand, he ignores the apprehension in kaminari's golden eyes, "you wanna make it official?"

patience is a virtue, something hitoshi has to remind himself of frequently; patience, hitoshi echoing in his mind when you patrol by his side, promising to protect him from any villains, pulling him behind you if even a mouse came across your path. patience, hitoshi when you mock kaminari for fearing the muscular mans brainwashing, asking if he feared the boogeyman, too. PATIENCE, HITOSHI, it's like a mantra when you smirk up at him, your unspoken promise of beating him hanging in the air between you before you'd even part your lips to greet him.

a virtue, a true miracle he was blessed with such patience.

so, he waits, biding his time until the perfect moment, the absolute perfect time. it was spring now, weeks after your proposal, the scent of pear blossoms beginning to float through the sky. along with the sweet scent in the air, humidity made it grow thicker and thicker, as his patience grew thinner and thinner with every step closer to you.

"hitoshi!" you answer cheerfully, like you normally do, a bright smile on your curved lips, unfaltering even as your friend stares at you with burning eyes, costume awry and his dark hair mussed, pushed back from his forehead, "you look like shit."

the tension inside his body was ready to snap, a rubber band stretched far beyond what he could handle; hearing one too many jabs from you, (today, a text of your merch, a little plush of yourself that you offered, free of charge, to protect him on patrols when his brainwashing fails).

"you should see the other guy."

"oh, i'm sure you really showed him."

"you going to invite me in or just insult me?"

"aren't you going to make me? or not ready to accept the truth? i know it's hard."

he snorts, relaxing against the door frame, deciding today was the perfect day to claim his victory. to pop your ballooned ego.

"let me in," his voice is smooth, your eyes drawn to his lips at his low timbre, lips parting slightly. you feign stepping aside, dropping your head into an overly dramatic bow, only meeting his eyes again after a long moment, the smug sparkle still shining brightly in your pupils.

"huh, sorry, i don't think it worked," you stand straight once more, fixating on your limbs as if searching for a reason why his quirk hadn't worked, stretching each finger as if just to confirm your autonomy, to confirm his lack of reach, even into the weakest parts of yourself.

your wax wings spread wide, curling over shoulder blades, strapped around biceps, wrists and fingers, nothing but clear blue skies ahead of you, bright eyes zeroing in on the searing sun. you've forgotten all about the deep sea below, no concern for the waves crashing over the jagged rocks at the cliffs edge, of the current dragging helpless creatures further into the depths. what did you have to worry about the peril below when you could take to the sky? you wings will carry you far from the danger lurking in the murkiness.

"let me in."

like a baby bird, struggling to leave its nest for the first time, your wings fail you, cracking, burning, melting, sending you careening carelessly into the frigid depths below.

unlike your act, you can't feign when his voice, his quirk seeps beneath your skin, settling in your veins, in each wrinkle and valley of your brain, invading your nerves. your eyes go blank, inky pupils dilating minutely. no more burning hubris reflecting back at him, there's only the endless darkness he can watch himself in, the heat in his own eyes. the hunger. you obey (of course you do), your hand falling limply from the door frame as you finally step aside, welcoming him inside.

"aw, where'd all that talk go?" he grins, tilting his head condescendingly, arrogance oozing from him in waves as you stare at him, defenceless in his clutches, his hold the only thing keeping you from slipping into the depths, further from the sky you greedily sought. you're silent (of course you are, hitoshi hasn't commanded you to speak), a ditsy, dumb, blank look on your face as he steps over the threshold onto the genkan.

"close the door." you do, your arm falling back to your side as soon as the latch clicked.

"kneel." you do, heavy limbs bending and bowing until you were seated at his feet.

"take my boots off." you do, you make quick work of the hefty boots, shimmying them down his calves and over his ankles, his half-lidded stare trained on you, admiring your casual shorts riding higher and higher on your plush thigh when you leaned forward to place his boots at the edge of the step up into your home, the pair sat neatly, side by side.

"you're so good, so obedient," his voice is low, his tone would have you addicted, itching to hear his faux praise again and again if you could remember it. leering down at you, hitoshi is certain you'd snarl at him if you could, bear your fangs, bite and threaten him. rather, you're pacified staring up at him, doe-eyed like this he can imagine how you'd keen instead, how you'd lean into his touch when he pats your head, how your eyes would blur when he calls you pretty, dizzy and dumb nuzzling into his hand.

it was cute, laughable, he has to admit, studying your vacant stare with deep amethyst eyes, the way you really thought you could overpower his quirk, that you could win against him.

"such a good girl, aren't you? yeah?" shinso's thick gloves tangle your hair in tiny knots at the top of your head every time he pets you like a well-loved house dog, "how about you get me a drink, too?"

god, he wants to record you, to rub your nose in how well you behaved for him, blindly following every instruction and he didn't need to spend a single yen on training clickers or treats. shinso mulls over the decision for a second, just long enough for your chest to rise once more, your eyelids to drop in a blink; the expression on your lips when he would show you how pathetic you look is nothing in comparison to you rebuilding your wax wings every time you break out of his brainwashing, not remembering a thing; your attitude and teasing returning again and again, week after week when he knows exactly how pretty you look when your mind was a blank slate for him to carve any thought into.

by the time he's mulled over the decision, you've led him further into your home, back towards your the kitchen where the bet was born, where you began building the wings that would betray you.

opening the cupboard that housed the glasses, the tips of your fingers just bump the vessel with a light tink when his pink lips part to command you once more, "stop."

you pause, waiting oh so pretty for your next instruction.

"i could tell you to do anything right now, you know that?"

you stand like a marble statue, only blinking when your eyes burn.

"i could tell you to bark like a dog, and you would," you're silent, eyes staring forward even as he disrupts the air around you, tracing a gloved finger over the bare skin of the back of your thigh, just to watch the goosebumps unconsciously form in his wake, just to do it without your burning glare. "tell you to sit pretty, to shake, to roll over. would you like that, baby?"

shinso runs his bare pointer finger up your spine, tracing the nape of your neck until he buries his hand in your hair, tugging your head back and forth to nod along with him, "i knew it, you're just a pathetic, obedient little thing."

again, he manoeuvres your head to nod (he knows he can command it, but sometimes he likes getting his hands dirty).

"bend over," hitoshi tugs his gloves off, placing the pair carefully beside you on the counter, admiring the arch of your back as your tits squash against the stony counter. you were a fucking sight, something he'd never forget until the day he died; the image of you bent, dumb, drooling burnt into his retinas.

obsidian eyes follow every rise and fall of your chest, roaming over the expanse of your body, every sliver of bare skin catching his attention, taking his time to admire while you can't argue with his perversions. wide hands are drawn to your ass like a moth to the flame, the curve of your plush skin hardly covered by the fabric, even more so when he kneads the fat of your ass, squeezing and spreading anywhere he can reach.

"should i take these off? hm?" he toys with the waistband of your shorts, as if waiting for you to reach around and shove him away from you, to call him every name under the sun, to threaten his life if he even moves an inch closer, lays one more finger on your skin.

you don't.

"yeah, i bet you'd like that." shinso chuckles to himself, hooking his fingers under the elastic and tugging them easily down your hips, leaving them to pool around your ankles, left only in your shirt and the cutest cotton panties, marred by an ever-growing dark patch at the centre of your cunt.

"filthy little thing," his smile widens, a predatory stare locking onto the wet patch, tracing the shape of your pussy over your panties just to watch it widen, "you're so fucking perverted, huh? bet you've been waiting for me to try something like this."

his cock is aching in the tight constriction of his suit, he's acutely aware of how uncomfortable it would be to go home with cum staining his boxers, but he can't find it in himself to care, not when that would mean taking his eyes off of your clothed, drooling cunt.

"you wanna know something?" he hears the gentle buzz of a streetlamp igniting outside your window, hears your gentle breaths, you don't answer.

"i can't brainwash you into getting wet, baby, this is all you."

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[vitaminkyeom]

[22:21]

PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader

GENRES || Angst, Best Friends To Lovers(?)

WARNINGS || angst, just angst

WORD COUNT || 0.5k

A/N || @ksoology ni remember talking about this? a big thanks to kiki @nonuify for beta reading for me!

TAGLIST || @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @aaniag @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @athanasiasakura @sea-moon-star @hrts4hanniehae @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @asasilentreader @isabellah29 @mrswonwooo @hoichi-02 @uri-boo @dinossaurz @nonononranghaee @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinkerbell460 @bluewbwerry @iamawkwardandshy @hoeforcheol @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @hyneyedfiz @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @mnstxmnbb @stervahaha @escoupseu @wonvsmile [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

“come on, how could jo say no!” your best friend complained, before slumping back into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest in a pout. you laughed at him, feeling the familiar warmth fill your stomach as you glanced at mingyu softly.

“well yeah no one i know alive ships laurie and amy. i mean, look at their chemistry!” you said, still unable to take your eyes off mingyu.

as if you hadn’t sinned enough by falling for your best friend, but you also to make it painfully obvious that kim mingyu aka your best friend (maybe repeating those words would stop the feelings) was the most attractive and beautiful man you had ever seen even in pyjamas and you just loved looking at him.

looking at him always put you at ease, like he was the island you had been swimming for all your life and finally got to rest, like he could anchor your soul to a stable rock and could cool down your fervent body. 

“seen a lot of people say ‘oh now that i’ve grown up i feel like amy and laurie were perfect!’. like what a load of crap.” your other best friend, gahyeon said before leaning back to look at you.

finally tearing your eyes away from a still pouting mingyu, you giggled at her. “man, we’re such a sucker for best friends to lovers right?”

“right, when’s my best friends to lover happening?” she wailed, causing the two of you to laugh even more.

“um, th second you confess to me?” mingyu joked, causing gahyeon to glare at him before melting into a smile when he gave back his soft signature smile.

and that’s when it hit you.

you watched your two best friends stare back at each other softly, carrying so much love in their eyes that you felt the popcorn you had eaten threaten to rush out of your mouth.

no way. it couldn’t be-

there was no way your best friends were in love with each other right? there was no way there were secretly yearning for each other-

but then again, so were you reading for mingyu despite him being your best friend. you too wished he would want you the way you wanted him.

but now he would never…

all of sudden, something seungkwan had said months ago flashed into your head. something about love being in the air and then him looking at you in disgust.

only it wasn’t you he was looking at, it wasn’t even you he was talking about. it had been gahyeon and mingyu all this time.

you swallowed the bile that had risen to your throat as you literally felt your heart shatter in your chest. your eyes prickled with tears as your head swam.

what were you going to do? oh, just what were you going to-

no.

you were not going to think like that.

forcing a smile back on to your face you turned back to your obliviously in love best friends and felt your heart shatter for a second time that day.

and then heal a little immediately.

because you realised mingyu never looked more beautiful as he did now, smiling sweetly as gahyeon and she too never looked more dazzling that now as she matched his beam. 

and at that moment, you knew exactly what you were going to do.

even if it killed you, you would make sure your best friends ended up with each other.

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[hanniebaeee]

Back seat

Lee Know x fem!reader x Bang Chan

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, smut

Summary: Your best friends, Chan and Minho are fighting, and you find out why. And it leads to some very interesting back seat fun.

It was later than you throught it would be, and the rain pounded relentlessly on the windshield. Minho's face was scrunched with focus as he drove through the rain.

You sat comfortably in the back, your eyes traveling between the two men in the front. There was silence lingering in the car, the air thick with a lot of unspoken things. This was supposed to be a simple road trip, but obviously, these two were idiots, and not talking to each other.

"Minho, pull over," You snap, having had enough of this drama. "We need to talk. Right now."

"Right now? In the middle of this?" Minho asked, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror.

"Now." You said firmly and he sighed, looking for somewhere safe to pull over.

"Babe, what-' Chan started, but you cut him off with a glare.

'Don't even start.' You warn him.

When Minho finally turns to face you after parking the car, you poke Chan on the shoulder, making him sigh and turn around as well.

"What's this, Y/N?" He sighed. 'Can't this wait?'

"You two could've been considerate and kept the fight for when we got home. Did you do that?" You ask and Chan falls silent.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to-" Minho stopped mid sentence as you look away.

"You guys haven't talked in two days. And you won't even tell me what this is all about," you complain. 'I wanna know. Now."

"You don't." Chan said with a force that you've never seen him use on you before.

"I'd like to be the judge of that," You said, leaning forward. "What's wrong with you two?!"

"Babe, it's nothing important." Minho assures you, reaching for your hand.

"Keep lying to me, and what happens next won't be very important too." You snap.

"Just tell her, then." Chan says, his voice so low, and resigned.

"Chan, come on." Minho is shaking his head, totally against that idea.

"She wants to know, Min," Chan says, losing his patience. "Tell her."

"We were being stupid. Nothing to tell at all." Minho counters, turning away from you.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?!"

Your voice rings through the car like an alarm, and the boys stare at you. That's definitely the first time you're raising your voice at them.

"Look its-' Minho begins.

"I love you." Chan says flatly.

You stare at the two, completely blank. Minho is also staring at Chan with his mouth falling open. It looks like he wants to say something, but also wants to kill Chan.

"What did you fight about?" You ask in a voice so low, it was barely audible over the rain.

"Y/N. Drop it." Minho says, his eyes pleading to you.

"Just fucking say it." Chan scoffs.

"Chan are you crazy?" Minho looks at Chan like he's sprouted horns out of nowhere.

"Minho."

"It's nothing!'

"MINHO."

"I LOVE YOU TOO. OK? HAPPY?!"

You sigh and sit back, your eyes moving between your two best friends.

"Was that so hard, Lino?" You ask, and Minho's head snaps up so fast, he may have sprained it. "You two are the biggest idiots I know."

Chan is much more composed at this point, his eyes narrowed at you, but otherwise normal. But Minho was definitely hyperventilating.

"What? Don't pretend like this wasn't cooking for years now." You say, and Minho just turns away and stares out of the window, completely silent.

"She's right, you know." Chan says with a shrug.

"Would you shut up for 2 minutes, Chan? I beg you." Minho's voice was so low and clipped, you and Chan share a look before you lean forward and touch his shoulder.

"Can you please tell me what's wrong, Min?' You ask softly.

"I'm doing my best here, Y/N. You don't want me back there." Minho says through clenched teeth.

"What if I do?" You ask in a small voice, and your eyes meet with Chan's again. If his eyebrows go up anymore, they would definitely go off the roof.

Minho turns to face you again, and you sit back, giving him a little shrug. And that's all it took.

Minho climbs into the back with you, his eyes dark with desire and he just looked so mad. He wastes no time in pulling you towards him, crushing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. You moan into his mouth, your hands pulling him close. You feel Chan's eyes on you both, watching with an intensity that has your heart racing faster.

Minho nuzzles his way down to your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses along your soft skin. His hands wandered down your body, finding their place on your hips, before they wander under your shirt slowly.

And he pulls back just enough to look at you for permission. You nod, before pulling him close again. The rain outside and the steam inside the car were enough to set you both going.

Minhos's hands cup your breasts so gently, and he gives out a breathy moan as his fingers brush over nipples through your bra. His head dips down, as he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it so gently with his tongue, over the soft fabric.

You whine softly as he fumbles with getting rid of your top and bra, and you feel his warm mouth directly on your nipple.

You look over at Chan, who's watching the two of you, his lower lip caught between his teeth. You reach out for him, and he takes your hand, pressing a quick kiss against your knuckles before moving to join you in the back.

His lips are on yours, silencing your muffled moans with his mouth. Your tongues move together, almost mirroring Minho's on your nipple. You were a little overwhelmed, feeling them both on you, the pleasure and warmth a bit too much.

Chan's hands wander down your body, and rests on the waistband of your jeans, his eyes seeking your permission silently.

"Please-" Was all you could say.

His fingers were quick, pushing your jeans and panties down your legs, and Minho helped pull them off your legs and toss them aside. He kisses you again, his lips so warm and wet and sweet.

Chan's hands are on your thighs, spreading your legs before slipping his fingers in. His fingers slide through the slick warmth of your folds and you gasp as he slips one finger, then two in. Your hips buck against his hand, as you press your eyes tightly shut.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Minho groans as his lips kiss their way down your body.

You finally see Chan and Minho working in perfect harmony, as if they hadn't been fighting the whole weekend. You whimper softly as Minho's tongue laps at your folds, humming in approval. You moan as his tongue teased your clit, sparks of pleasure ripping through you. And as his lips move lower, tongue running through your soft wet lips, you grip at his hair. He chuckles, and then slips his tongue into your slit so smoothly.

As if this wasn't enough, Chan leans forward, his mouth quickly replacing Minho's, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud. You squirm under them, clearly overwhelmed. It's like you're floating, completely lost in the sensation.

And you have the most mind blowing orgasm you've ever had. You see stars behind your closed eyelids, as you cry out, trying to pull away as they continue to kiss and suck at you, as your core pulses.

You're panting, you can't even breathe anymore.

Minho is sitting up now, looking at you like he's so passionately in love with you, and leans in to kiss you again. You hum as you taste yourself on his lips, and you hands grip tightly at his shirt, pulling him closer.

Chan presses a kiss in the crooke of your neck, and you hold him close too.

"You good, baby?" Chan asks, his breath hot on your skin.

"So good, " You mumble. 'So good."

"You want more, love?" Minho asks, and you look at him, and nod, a soft blush spreading on your cheeks.

And when you ask him to move, he does, setting a slow rhythm. His strokes drove you crazy, so gentle, yet setting your insides on fire. Minho's hands roam your body, his fingers so gentle as he pinched your nipples.

Minho and Chan exchange looks, and Chan is quickly out of his clothes and pulling out a little foil packet from the dashboard, throwing it to Minho, and then taking another one for himself. And positioning you under him, he's in between your legs in an instant.

There's no space to move around, especially with two men who are so much bigger than you are. Chan looks at you one last time, and you nod your consent. And he pushes in, slowly, filling you completely.

The windows steamed up, as the rain continued to drum on the roof. Your nails dig into Minho's shoulder and as Chan picks up the pace. His hips slam into you with each powerful thrust. And you're falling apart under him.

Chan bends down to capture your swollen lips in a passionate kiss as he pounds into you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting him even deeper.

"Oh God," You moaned against Chan's mouth.

"Cum for us, baby," Chan murmurs into your lips, and that's all it takes.

Chan follows suit, his own orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He collapses on top of you, struggling to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and hes moaning against your neck.

Minho is so silent beside you, that you look at him, and see that hes watching the two of you, still completely dressed.

"You're overdressed, Lino." You whisper, and his eyes glimmer darkly as he starts undressing.

And Chan sits up slowly, pulling you up with him. You give him a confused look, but he winks at you before pulling you forward again. That's when you understand what's going on.

You're on your hands and knees now. In a car. In the middle of nowhere. In a storm.

Minho positioned himself behind you, his hands on your hips and his hard length at your entrance. With a gentle push, he slides in, and you both moan at that delicious stretch. Chan's lips are on yours, as Minho takes you from behind. His steady yet relentless pace has you whining into Chan's mouth.

You cry out again as you feel Minho's fingers in between your legs, and his touch sends shocks of pleasure through your body. Within minutes, your body quakes with another orgasm, and Chan holds you tight against him as you tremble in pleasure.

Minho is crashing into his own orgasm moments later, groaning. His thrusts slow, but he's not pulling out of you. He loves the feeling of being buried deep inside you and his hands caress your hips and butt gently.

Later, when he finally pulls out and the three of you snuggle close, you can't help but giggle, realizing fully what you've just done. Chan's the first to join you. Minho's cheeks are burning red, and he tries to stay reasonable here - but one look at the two of you, he was laughing too.

Sweaty and completely satisfied, you press a hand to your mouth to stop your giggles. And when you're finally back to normal, you glance at the boys, and ask, "So, what happens now?"

Minho sighs as he starts pulling on his clothes.

"Simple. You let us take you out. And see where this goes." Chan says with a shrug.

"Is that something you'd like to consider, jagi?" Minho asks, now looking you.

"Yes. I'd like that." You say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You look at the two of them, considering this. You've known them forever, they're your everything. Of course you never thought this would happen. But at some point of time you did wish that you'll end up with one of them, at least. But here you are. With both.

"See, I told you. You were brooding for nothing." Chan says, and Minho just huffed in annoyance.

"You never know." Minho mutters, shaking his head.

"Now you do." Chan snaps back.

"Please don't tell me this is what you two were fighting about." You say, pulling on your own clothes.

"It's exactly what we were fighting about. I told him you love us both. He was afraid of scaring you away. I knew you're my little freaky baby - you'll be up for this." Chan wiggled his eyebrows.

"You didn't just call me a freak." You say, hitting him on the arm. "Lino, he called me a freak!"

"Stop calling her that!"

"She just let us take her right here in the car in the middle of a storm. Thats-"

"Don't say it!" You warn.

"Oh my God." Minho climbs back into the driver's seat, and tells you two to shut up.

"Lino, are you shy, baby?" You ask, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder.

"Y/N." Minho warns you, but you can see that hes trying hard not to smile.

"See, that's what I'm talking about!" Chan said, laughing.

"Channie, I swear to god."

[writemekpop]

Stolen Kisses | Na Jaemin

Summary: A drunken kiss at a wedding leads to something more...

Genre: Suggestive, Cutie!Jaemin, Friends to lovers

Word count: >1k

“Oh, I wish I was in love,” you sigh as you watch Jeno and his new wife twirling around the dance floor.

“I know,” Jaemin says, sipping his beer.

“Maybe it’s just the alcohol talking, but I’ll tell you a secret,” you say. "I'm planning to be married by thirty. It's my dream."

“Wait,” Jaemin says, cocking his head. “Aren’t you turning thirty next year?”

You freeze. The ice cubes tinkle in your drink. ”That- that’s not right. I’m already twenty… nine?”

Jaemin rests his hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ve got ages.”

You glare at Jaemin. “I’m 29, and I’ve never had a boyfriend! I might be optimistic, but I’m not an idiot.” Grains of heat spread over your face. “Oh my god. I’m never getting married. I’m never-”

Jaemin cups your cheek with his hand, and the movement is so tender that it takes you by surprise.

“Listen to me," he said. "You’re a hotshot lawyer. You’re unbelievably funny. And - let’s face it - you’ve got a smokin’ bod. You could have any guy in this room, right now.”

You smirk. “Any guy? Even that one?” you say, pointing at the muscly bartender.

Jaemin smiles softly. “Oh, please. That idiot? You’re way too good for him. You’re way too good for any of these losers.”

You take Jaemin’s hand and kiss it. His body is still hunched away from you, but his eyes flash to meet yours, sideways. He grins like the two of you are sharing a naughty secret.

That look.

Tingles run over your body. Jaemin has given it to you before, but tonight, there’s a hint - just a hint - that it means something more.

You loosely let go of Jaemin’s hand, your fingers run up his arm until you’re clutching his shoulder. Both if you are breathing unevenly. Somehow, your bodies have gotten close. You can smell him.

“Do you… feel…” you start to say, but trail off.

“Yes,” Jaemin says. “Do you…”

”Yes,” you reply, before he can finish.

“We’re just drunk, right?” Jaemin says, his voice trembling. “That’s all this is?”

You pause, considering whether or not to say the answer that jumps to your mind. It is not the safe option.

“I’ve never been more sober in my life,” you say.

Jaemin blinks, then replies, “Me neither.”

That’s when your lips meet his. At first, the blood in your body springs into overdrive. Alarms crash in your head. You’re kissing Jaemin! Your best friend! But then you sink into the kiss, enjoying the coolness of his lips, the way they give into yours entirely.

You feel closer to Jaemin than you ever have. It’s like you’ve become one person with two hearts.

You draw back, panting. Jaemin struggles to act normal after your kiss, and you love it. Finally, he gives up trying, and a dazzling grin breaks out on his face.

“There we go…” you sigh, acting like you’re embarrassed of him.

“What? Can’t I celebrate? I just got kissed by the prettiest girl in the room!” Jaemin says, swinging his arm around your shoulder.

You glare at him.

“Sorry! I mean the most beautiful woman,” Jaemin corrects.

You fight a smile. “That’s right. You better treat this woman good.”

Jaemin lowers his head gravely. “It will be my solemn duty.”

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[consistencynevermether]

Spring Flowers (Vere x gn!reader) (Touchstarved)

content: this is technically a sequel to this post, but it can be read as a stand alone. Vere x reader, gender neutral reader, tried to write this so any origin will work, Jealous Vere, SFW, cannon typical swearing, violence, etc

(optional) part one: Winter Nights, here

summary: Vere wants to go watch the flowers bloom, and you help him out (its lightly implied Leander has a crush on MC)

word count: 3.7k

A/N: i've decided to make a series out of my first fic, each one coordinating with a different season. this is technically part 2, works as a standalone. i've also been considering maybe some Kuras writings, if anyone is interested in that, lmk! enjoy :)

The winter in Eridia was especially long this season. That's what Mhin had told you at least. Not that they minded apparently. They had no strong dislike towards the colder months, unlike Vere. You didn’t go a single day without him complaining about the weather. But finally spring had begun to take over the city. While you were walking back to your lodgings in the Wet Wick sometime earlier this month, you had even seen crocus flowers popping up early, with a light dusting of snow on their purple petals. You imagined the melting ice and sunny days would put Vere in a better mood. And they did, for a time.

One lovely day he came to the Wick in a foul mood, and as he walked past your table he oh so very rudely shut the book you were reading while he walked past. You let out an offended cry but he didn’t even stop to look at you, he simply stomped right past and sat down at the bar, ordering something strong

Rude. More rude than normal. Usually when Vere did something like that, it was to tease or get your attention. But this time he just wanted to spread his sour mood. And it was working. The book you were reading was a tome of very basic yet interesting spells, something “almost anyone could master” according to Leander, the person who lent you the book. And now your place was lost because Vere made his attitude everyone’s problem.

Luckily, you were more mature than him. And deep down you also knew better. Vere was a fickle beast, but usually his reasons for being genuinely upset were pretty valid. 

You sighed, tucked your book away in your bag, and headed over to the bar where he was sitting. Without a word you sat in the seat next to his and turned towards him, arms crossed.

Vere was already slouched over the bar, scowling into his drink. 

“Oh for the love of- what do you want?” He groaned. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” You counter dryly. 

Vere scoffed, throwing his hands over his head. 

“It’s a damn book! It is not that big of a deal. You're really upset over that? What, do you have to spend two seconds of your day looking at something other than Leander’s book? Oh what a terrible fate.” He spat, his mocking tone rising in pitch at his clear annoyance. 

Bad mood indeed.

“I’m not really upset, no.” Your even tone only makes Veres' little rant sound even more immature. “But that was rude, and it’s not my job to put up with your pettiness when you're upset. It makes me not want to be around you.”

You watched as Veres' eyes narrowed and his ears slightly flatten against his head in response.

Usually you wouldn’t let anyone get away with half the shit Vere got away with, but you were basically his only friend besides Ace. And that relationship was all kinds of complicated. Vere was great at charming people, making them fall for him, manipulating them, the whole nine yards. But he wasn’t great at keeping actual friends. It was a bit of a new concept to him, and because of that you gave him some leeway. 

Of course part of the reason you gave him that grace was because he puts up with a fair amount of your shit too. And you enjoy being friends with him of course, but you’d never tell him that. 

You continued to stare him down and he continued to glare at his drink until finally he mumbled something under his breath at you.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You questioned.

“I SAID I’m sorry I touched your precious book ok?!” Vere snapped back. 

Vere was no longer hunched over the bar but instead had laid his head down on the counter and was glaring up at you through strands of his scarlet hair.

You smirked and laid your head down on the bar as well, now eye level with him. He rolled his eyes, but there was a slight smile behind the snark. You could tell.

“So, why are you actually upset?” you question. 

Vere let out a long suffering sigh.

“Ugh. It’s something entirely stupid. I don’t even really care.” He responded. 

“Well that’s clearly not true, you obviously care.” You countered. “But that’s fine. It’s alright to be upset over shit that doesn’t really matter. Just yesterday I dropped my slice of cheesecake and declared the Gods hated me personally. Well, even more than they clearly already do.” As you state that last part you hold up your bandaged hands, accentuating your point. 

Vere let out a quiet chuckle. Then a few moments later he sighed and began to speak. 

“There’s this festival happening that the sinobium is hosting. A viewing of some flowering trees that’ll be in full bloom. I don’t even care about the damn things, but it’s a huge social event, and you know how I thrive on those.”

It was true. Vere was like a flame to moths. People swarmed towards his charismatic personality and sharp wit. Not to mention he was probably the most beautiful person to exist. (Not that you were biased in this opinion at all).

“So why aren’t you going?” You questioned, urging him to continue. 

Vere shrugged. “No monsters allowed.” 

You were disappointed, but not surprised. This type of event definitely sounded like a gathering for the people of high town, and people like that don’t enjoy rubbing shoulders with monsters. Only the richest people in the largest city still standing had the luxury of creating a whole event out of watching flowering trees bloom. You could definitely see how this event would be right up Veres' alley. You couldn't help but feel sorry for the fox devil sitting next to you, it wasn't fair he had to miss out on some boring stupid garden party because he was a monster. He should miss out on the boring stupid garden party because he's a menace and a psychopath. 

Still, he was your menace, and you wanted to make him feel better about missing out on the stupid fruffy party. 

Then a thought came to you.

You didn’t need to comfort him for missing the party if he didn’t miss the party. 

Vere stared at you in tired amusement. He knew you well enough to know you were going to do or say something stupid, by the look on your face. He just didn’t know what yet. 

“I have a plan.” You declare. 

“Of course you do.” He took another sip of his drink, waiting for you to continue.

“Well-“ you reopen your tome as you speak. “I just happened to be reading a disguise spell before you so rudely interrupted.”

“Mhm. And can you cast said spell?” He questioned lazily. 

“Well-

-We can certainly try right? I’m sure I’ll pick it up naturally.”

“If you turn my hair green, I will kill you. I hope you know this.” Vere responded, sounding very serious.

You knew he wouldn’t, he lost interest in killing you after the first month.

Probably.

Well, you wouldn't know unless you tried. Plus you actually needed some practice to get this right. Not that you would ever use any of your friends as test subjects (or at least ever admit to it).

You didnt turn Vere’s hair green. You did however turn it purple twice by accident. You two had spent the rest of the day trying to make vere look human. It was admittedly a lot less trial and error and more just-

Error. 

It was a lot more frustrating for you than you'd assumed it would be. Which meant Vere had a lot more fun than he expected. But by the time sunset had come around, you had done it.

His scarlet hair was now a deep brown, and his magenta eyes were now a light chestnut color. The markings on his face were gone, as were his claws. The most shocking change of course was the lack of his fox ears and tail. They were still actually there of course, just invisible. After all it was a simple illusion spell, not the kind of magic that could actually change a person. 

It was…strange. You had never really thought of what Vere would ever look like as a human. His face was the same, but something about him felt like it was missing. Or incomplete. It was hard to describe the slight uncanny feeling you felt looking at this version of him.

A snap brought you out of your thoughts. 

“Hello? Still in there? You've been staring for like two minutes” Vere questioned.

“It's weird.” you defended.

“What? Why? What did you do to me?” Vere snapped as he grabbed a small silver mirror out of his pocket.

You watched as Veres eyebrows shot up at the sight of himself. He examined his reflection for a few more seconds, gingerly feeling where his ears were, and looking at the illusionary human ears that now graced the side of his head.

“That's….impressive” he finally stated. “I really look human.”  

“Which means you can go to the boring flower party!” You exclaimed, clearly delighted with your work. Oh yea, you were an incredible friend. 

“Well,-“ Vere pursed his lips. “-what if something happens to disturb the illusion? This kind of magic is easy to break. If only someone would come with me and make sure to be there so if the illusion breaks, they could recast it.” 

You felt yourself deflate slightly. A whole day of sitting around watching flowers bloom? When you could be working and making money? You hadn’t wasted time like that since before you moved to Eridia. 

But it was Vere. If he wanted you to go, you would go. And he already knew it, judging by the smirk on his face. 

You sighed, defeated.

“Fine, let’s go to the party where we all sit around and look at trees. How fun. When is it?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Fuck.”

Vere simply chuckled before looking back down at the mirror, examining his new human appearance. You could also feel him occasionally glance over at you. 

Hmph. Probably shocked you could pull off the spell. Oh he of little faith. 

Just as you were about to flick a peanut at Vere just to be annoying, a drink slid right in front of you, prompting you to look up.

You were greeted with a pair of green eyes and a wide smile. Leander. 

“You looked like you needed a drink. Make a new friend?” He questioned, eyes narrowing. 

“Huh?” You questioned. What new friend was he talking about?

Leander gestured to the now brown haired Vere, who was still looking down at his reflection.

At that moment Vere decided to stop preening and instead hopped off his own barstool, moving behind yours and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Awe, can the great mage really be fooled so easily? Either they're better at this than I thought, or just as dense as I suspected.”

Leander’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Vere?!?”

Leander’s look of bewilderment quickly turned into realization as he looked back at you. 

“Hey, you figured out that illusion spell from the book! Aren’t you a little prodigy?” He beamed. 

“Hmm. Yes, they are.” Vere smiled, putting his hands around your shoulders.

 Though his fangs were hidden behind your illusion, it was clear he didn’t need them. There was something dangerous about that smile, like the edge of a knife. You had no idea why he had gotten so hostile all of the sudden, and how Leander was keeping such a carefree look on his face.

“Now, they're taking me to the flower festival tomorrow with this lovely disguise, and I refuse to be seen with someone who smells this bad. So how about you head up to your room and hit the showers?”

As soon as Vere finished his sentence you saw a slight twitch in Leanders eye. But you were too busy with the smell comment from Vere to really care. 

To make his point Vere twirled a lock of your hair in his fingers and lightly sniffed it. 

Fucking rude. You didn’t smell that bad! Right? Maybe you should use more shampoo though… after all you don’t need to be so conservative with your products after Vere had gifted you quite a few of his own. Or maybe this was a bit of revenge for that time you had said he smelt like a wild animal? It had been a while since that night, but you did know Vere was one to hold a grudge. 

You lightly shoved him off you and headed upstairs (yes, to take a bath). 

Leaving the boys to glare at each other or whatever they were doing, you headed up and headed to bed. 

The next day, you were up bright and early to accompany Vere to his little party.

And unfortunately, as much as you loathe to admit it, the flowers took away your breath the moment you walked in.

The tiny pink blossoms softly shed their petals, coating the ground in a pale pink haze and leaving a sweet scent in the air.

Speaking of scent, you had made 100% sure you smelt incredible for this damn event. Suck it Fox boy. 

Vere scoped out a spot and called you over, motioning you to set down the outdoor blanket you had brought under one of the trees. 

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to buy some flower oils.” Vere beamed, clearly very pleased that his human disguise was holding up so well, and he had successfully fooled the sinobium. 

You signed and waved him off, plopping down on the blanket you had just laid out. 

As Veres' form receded into the crowd of people, a tall white silhouette appeared to your left.

You gave an easy smile. It was always nice to see Kuras. 

He gave you his own small smile, and you gestured for him to sit.

Vere may have issues with Kuras, but the two of you were perfectly cordial, and you’d even consider the two of you friends.

“So, you decided to go with Vere and not Leander. That’s certainly interesting.” He stated.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. Why would you be here with Leander?

Kuras seemed to see your confusion, and you watched a familiar mischievous glint appear in his eyes.

“Oh, maybe he didn’t get the chance to ask. How peculiar. Leander was planning to ask you to see this blossom viewing with him.” Kuras stated, calm as ever.

You knew what you wanted to ask. And clearly Kuras also knew what you wanted to ask. But he was being mischievous. And you were being stubborn.

“Well I best be going. I only stopped by for a second, but I need to get back to my clinic.” Kuras stated as he stood up and lightly brushed himself off, looking immaculate as ever. 

He took a step to leave, then looked back at you.

“Yes. Vere knew.” 

And with that, he strode off into the crowd, sparing you from the embarrassment of him seeing your reddening cheeks. 

You were so focused on figuring out if that meant anything, you hadn’t even noticed that for some reason, Kuras had immediately recognized Vere, regardless of the illusion over him. 

You were so absorbed in your own thoughts, you didn’t even notice Vere had returned until he plopped his head right in your lap.

He gave a sniff and his eyes darkened.

“You smell like the doctor.” He spat.

You just shrugged.

“He stopped by for two seconds to say hi.” 

Vere snarled in response, and you couldn’t help but snort at his unfiltered displeasure. 

You began to gently stroke his ears, his real ears, invisible to sight currently, but you knew where they were without sight. 

Ever since he allowed you to touch his fluffy ears, it was one of your favorite things to do whenever he crashed at your place. 

He huffed in displeasure, but almost immediately leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment as you gently traced your fingers along the back of his ears. He burrowed his head more into your thigh, and wrapped one of his arms around your back. 

“What did he say?” Vere questioned, his eyes still mostly closed. 

Clearly he was trying very hard not to drift off. 

“He just said hi.” You fibbed.

You didn’t know how to bring up what Kuras had told you about, doing so would imply you thought Vere didn’t want you to come here with Leander. Which opens a whole new can of worms.

Seeing that that was all you were going to tell him, he pushed himself up off your lap and leaned back against the tree, scowling. He knew that wasn’t the truth. But it seemed like he didn’t feel like prying either. 

Before you could say anything to cheer him up, he grabbed a bottle from his sack of purchases and took a long swig. It was strong alcohol, you could smell it from here. 

“Do me a favor,” he seethed, glaring at you through his bangs. “Don’t talk to me. I don’t want my flower viewing ruined by you.” 

You could only sigh. If you were going to be friends with Vere, you needed thick skin. Luckily, you had dealt with him enough to expect this. He knew you were omitting some information, and was pouting.

You did feel a little guilty, he wouldn’t be moody if you didn’t hide things from him. But at the end of the day, you were entitled to private conversation with whomever you choose. Vere knew this, which was probably why he resorted to pouting instead of interrogating you for information.

You simply gave him a smile and made the motion of locking your lips shut with a key. 

Vere rolled his eyes and took another heavy swig. Though you could see the sulky look on his face after just a few more sips. He always wore his emotions more plainly when drunk. 

The two of you sat in silence, both enjoying the flowers. It was around sunset when Vere finally seemed to be over being upset with you.

Or he was too drunk to remember. 

He leaned against you, clearly unsteady from all the alcohol.

“Hey.” He slurred.

“Hey.” You responded. 

“Do-

-Do you like me like this?” He questioned. 

“What, absolutely wasted? I mean it is a little funny.” You smirked, and moved so that he could lean against your chest more fully. 

“Ugh. No. I mean human. Still beautiful, obviously, but with brown hair. Like Leanders. No fangs. No claws.”

His voice was slightly muffled as he spoke. 

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked.

“One second.” He responded.

He grabbed one of the bottles of alcohol and chugged the remains. That makes 3 bottles in under one day of some strong drink. Impressive and concerning. 

“Alright, shoot.” He grinned wildly, chuckling low to himself, Gesturing at you to continue. 

“Fuck no.” 

“What?” 

He removed his head from your chest, and leaned back on his arms, looking at you intently, the bewilderment clear on his face.

“You asked if I liked you better looking like this, the answer is fuck no I don’t. If I’m being honest it's a little unnerving. When you walked over earlier I didn’t even subconsciously realize it was you till you laid down on my leg.” You shrugged. 

“Even though my eyes are scary?” He asked.

You let out a bark of laughter.

“Your eyes are not scary.” 

“Even though my hair is blood red?”

“Why would that be a bad thing? It’s beautiful.” 

“Even though I've scratched before?”

“It didn’t even draw blood. And that was my fault. I forgot you had claws and basically rammed my shoulder into them.” 

“Even though I’ve got markings all over my face?” 

“It feels weird if you don’t have them on your face.”

Vere lapsed into silence, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

“I didn’t expect you to be the type to have insecurities.” You cautioned.

Now it was Veres' turn to laugh.

“Oh I assure you, I don’t. I find myself to be the most beautiful creature to exist. I just… wanted to know what you thought.” 

You sighed.

“I really hope you're too drunk to remember this tomorrow, but I think you're the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Please don’t be insufferable about this.” 

Veres' face split into a lopsided wicked grin.

“Oh darling, I’m going to be so insufferable about this.” 

You just smiled and stood up, gently grabbing Veres arm and helping him stand as well.

“Alright. I need to get home before dark so I don’t get nearly eaten by a soulless. Again.” You say, worry slightly bleeding into your tone.

The sun was already starting to disappear completely from the sky, you needed to get back before the last rays faded. 

“You won’t make it in time. I’ll walk you home and crash at your place.” Vere stated, in a tone of finality.

“Sorry, no. You're far too wasted to fight anything.” You countered.

Vere let out a bitter laugh and tugged in the chain running down his chest. 

“Even with this damn thing limiting me, and 5 more bottles of that drink, I’d still be able to kill any of the pathetic soulless in eridia with one hand tied behind my back. I’m walking you back. That is final.” He declared, then looked at you as if to dare you to argue. 

Vere did a lot of shocking things, but that one motion affected you more than anything he had ever done before. He hated acknowledging the chains around his neck. No matter how much you had come to consider him a friend, you weren’t stupid enough to ever push too hard on that topic. 

You could only nod in agreement. 

“Let’s get out of here then.”

As the two of you walked out of the gates of the sinobium where the grove of flowering trees laid, you let out a sharp snap of your fingers, and the illusion surrounding Vere dropped instantly. 

“That's better.” You remarked.

“Agreed.” Vere smirked back.

The two of you walked back the wet wick in comfortable silence, arriving back well past when darkness had fallen. After all, there was no need to rush.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Birthday Boy - Rafe Cameron Daydreams ☁️

+18

Grumpy!Rafe x Girlfriend!Reader

⭐️ fluffy random post from my old account ⭐️

🪄 fluff with mentions of sex

500 words

“What’s wrong with him now?” Your friend giggles before taking a sip of wine. Your boyfriend glares at you from across the party with a scowl on his lips. He hasn’t broken focus with you, Topper continuing to talk his ear off on his left, Wheezie digging into her cake on the right.

You cock an eyebrow in his direction, begging the silent question, ‘What the fuck is wrong now?’ He returns a similar look, posing the quiet answer, ‘You fucking know.’ But I don’t.

You grab your wine off the countertop and stroll through the living room, joining the birthday boy. Topper already knows his place, standing up from the couch to make room for you. You smooth out your dress, sitting beside Rafe, snuggling up to his tense body. “Rafe…” You coo, resting your hand on the thigh of his slacks. He tracks your touch, disgusted by it in the moment. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Yeah… What’s up your ass, Rafey? It’s your birthday?” Wheezie asks with a mouth full of cake.

“Mhmm… That it is, Wheez,” he sneers, spiking his fork into his cake.

“Did I do something?” You ask gently as you rest your chin against his shoulder, making him soften slightly.

“You aware of what this cake is called?” Rafe hisses.

Wheezie lets out a little chuckle, covering her food-filled mouth. “I already know where this is going…” She adds in a hushed tone.

“Shut up,” Rafe bickers.

“I do, baby…” You respond hesitantly, knowing the route this is taking as well. “You asked me to make it, Rafe. Remember? I said, ‘We have guests coming. Should I buy a cake?’ And you said…”

“Make my favorite,” Wheezie pipes in. “I was there.”

“Hey… Who invited you into this argument, kid. This is adult shit.” His eyes cut back to yours, narrowing in bitterness. “Better Than Sex Cake? You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

“Baby,” you try your best not to laugh as you see the genuine disgust on his face.

“Betrayal,” he mumbles before biting, letting the fork glide along his teeth.

Wheezie shakes her head and smiles. Wheez is no stranger to how petty Rafe can be, still in awe of his hissy fits nonetheless. “Why are you so dramatic-”

“I’m not! A’ight?” He snaps back at her. “This shit is serious.”

“This is about cake. Correct?” She retorts as you bite your lip, holding short a laugh.

“My stroke game’s way better than this shit,” he bitches under his breath, rolling his eyes away from her toward you. You pout your lip, only a fraction of you is sad that he called your cake shit, knowing it was all about the name.

“It’s a good cake, princess. But, we’re changin’ the name.”

You smile up at him, causing him to lean down to your lips. Rafe kisses you gently, sweet chocolate and cream lingering on his lips. “Your stroke game’s better, daddy,” you whisper against his mouth. You can feel his smile spreading along your lips.

“Yeah… Didn’t hear you cryin’ or cummin’, baby girl. So I guess I won.”

[theostrophywife]

brother's bsf! mattheo who you've had a crush on for years.

but he's only ever seen you as theo's little sister (or so he says).

it doesn't matter that you and theo are only a year apart. your older brother is extremely protective of you and so are the rest of his friends — especially mattheo.

you grew up around the boys, which was a blessing and a curse in and of itself. on one hand, you grew super close to mattheo, but on the other hand, he's seen you through your awkward braces and pigtails phase.

lately though, brother's bsf! mattheo starts to notice you. really notice you.

suddenly, you didn't seem so little to him anymore.

but over the years, your infatuation with your brother's best friend calmed to attraction instead. you've come to accept that while mattheo would always be your first crush, that's all it would really ever amount to. a harmless little childhood crush.

thanks to theo, you hadn't gotten much of a chance to date when you were younger, but now that you were starting uni with the rest of the boys, you were determined to push those silly little feelings for mattheo away and start putting yourself out there.

granted, you had a lot to learn given your sheltered upbringing.

boys had taken a liking to you. why wouldn't they? you're pretty, you're smart, and you're the perfect combination of sweet and sassy, but you were also extremely naïve.

brother's bsf! mattheo had to protect you.

it was his responsibility.

theo trusted him to keep an eye on you. so he did.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo glares at any boy that dares to look at you.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo revs his motorcycle and comes in hot when he sees anyone talking to you, handing you the pink helmet he keeps on him at all times without a single word.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo gives you rides to your dorm and takes you out for ice cream after a particularly hard exam.

it's clear that mattheo has a soft spot for you. no matter how vehemently he denies it.

until the night that everything changed.

it was a chilly friday evening when you happily skipped out of your dorm building, eager to attend your first frat party.

the cute boy in your history class asked you to come with him and you immediately said yes despite not knowing what to expect. it seemed fun and exciting and a little bit dangerous.

as luck would have it, you ran into none other than mattheo on your way out. his sleek black motorcycle was parked on the curb, smoke wafting from his lips as he took a lazy drag of his cigarette. leaning against his bike, mattheo raised a brow as you strutted onto the sidewalk.

"where do you think you're going, nott?"

"to a party, matty."

"with who?"

"a friend."

mattheo narrows his eyes at you. "I know all your friends and they're busy tonight. so which friend is it?"

you sigh in frustration. "just a friend from class. god, you sound like theo right now."

"you're not going anywhere wearing that."

"what's wrong with my dress?"

you smoothed down the front of your red minidress self-consciously, shying away from mattheo's intense gaze. his chocolate brown eyes scanned your body, the heat of his stare dragging along your skin.

"for starters, that dress barely covers anything and knowing you, you'll be cold within the first few minutes."

"I'll be fine, mattheo. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

mattheo crosses his arms, huffing at your statement. "so you told theo where you're headed off to tonight?"

you shrugged. "what my brother doesn't know won't hurt him."

"yes, but he might hurt anyone stupid enough to ogle you in that dress. as will I. maybe I should tell him what his baby sister is up to. better yet, maybe I should come with you to this party, hm?"

"no please," you pleaded. "I just want one night where I'm not being treated like a little kid. can you give me that, matty? please?"

you flashed your best puppy dog eyes at him, knowing that he couldn't possibly resist when you asked so nicely.

mattheo considers it for a moment before sighing in defeat. "fine, princess. but text me when you get there and call me when you're home. don't even think about turning your location off or else I'll send a brigade after you."

"yes sir."

"good girl."

before brother's bsf! mattheo could think better of it, you kiss his cheek and promise to call him later that night.

brother's bsf! mattheo watches you strut away in your tight little dress with a soft smile on his face, fully knowing that you had him wrapped around your finger.

by the time you arrive at the party, it's in full swing. music is blaring, drinks are flowing, and the frat house is packed to the brim with people.

you send a quick text to mattheo to let him know you've arrived before spotting aiden.

clearly, your date was already a few drinks in. he greets you with a lingering hug before handing you a red cup. "cheers, y/n."

"cheers," you respond, clinking your cup against his and taking a generous swig. the liquor burns your throat and aiden chuckles as you try to hide your wincing.

still, it does the job.

you loosen up after a few sips. aiden introduces you to his friends and you smile politely, trying not to squirm out of his hold as he pulls you in by the waist.

it's fine, he's just keeping you close in such a packed crowd. he doesn't mean any harm by it.

at least that's what you told yourself.

until aiden tries to make a move on you in the middle of the dance floor. you already told him that you didn't want to dance, but he insisted.

you could smell the liquor on his breath as he grabbed your hips, moving them along to the rhythm of the song. you tried to put some distance between you, but aiden didn't seem deterred by it. in fact, his wandering hands slide down to your lower back until they're planted firmly on your ass. you attempted to pry them away, but he slurred "relax" into your ear before giving your ass a squeeze.

that was the tipping point for you.

with all your strength, you shoved aiden off while he cursed after you. the lights were blinding as you made your way through the crowd, fleeing to the bathroom.

you had brother's bsf! mattheo's number dialed before you even closed the door.

surprisingly, he picks up on the first ring.

"hi matty, are you — are you busy right now?"

"I'm with the boys. how'd the party go, princess?"

"um, I'm still here and I just really want to go home."

you hear shuffling on the other end. presumably mattheo finding somewhere more private to speak with you. "I thought your friend was your ride home?"

"well, aiden's drunk and he's been getting a little handsy the whole night so I don't really feel safe going home with him."

"what?" mattheo hisses. "you didn't tell me you were with a guy. I never would've let you go off alone with some random prick."

"please don't be mad, matty. I just wanted to have fun without worring about my brother hovering over my shoulder. don't tell theo, please. I'll — I'll figure it out. I'll find another ride."

"like hell you are! drop your location. the boys and I are coming."

"no, please. I don't want this to be a whole thing. if theo finds out, he'll never let me out of his sight again."

you could feel mattheo grappling with the situation. part of him wanted to tell his best mate, but all he truly cared about was getting to you as quickly as he could. after a few moments, he sighs. "fine, I won't tell your brother, but I'm still coming to get you. stay where you are, princess and don't hang up the phone. I'm on my way, okay?"

"you really don't have to —"

the argument dies in your throat when you hear the sound of mattheo's motorcycle starting up. he wasn't going to let you talk him out of this. mattheo was coming, whether you wanted him to or not.

"too late. be a good girl and stay on the line with me, sweetheart. I'm coming for you."

brother's bsf! mattheo pays no mind to the boys as they joke about him meeting up with a booty call.

the only thing that matters to him is getting to you.

brother's bsf! mattheo weaves through campus, revving and racing his motorcycle as fast as it can possibly go.

it's too noisy to talk while he rides, but he stays on the line anyways, listening through one earphone as you quietly hum to help calm yourself. mattheo smiles to himself. it's one of his favorite quirk of yours. half of the time, you don't even notice you're doing it. but he does. he notices everything about you.

mere minutes have passed since you first called him, but it feels like an eternity to mattheo when he finally pulls up to the decrepit frat house at the edge of campus.

mattheo parks his motorcycle on the curb, glaring at the prying eyes trained on him. it's not every day that the mattheo riddle, resident bad boy pulls up to a party looking like he's absolutely ready to kill someone with his bare hands.

he has half a mind to burst into the bloody house and pummel that stupid prick for daring to touch you, but the sight of you approaching stops him cold.

you look flustered and fearful, lower lip trembling as you spill out into the sidewalk. mattheo instantly sees red. he vows to make that motherfucker pay for this.

"where is he?"

"mattheo —"

"where. the. fuck. is. he?"

"probably somewhere inside drunk off his arse. I don't know and I don't care. can we please just go?"

despite his anger, you don't balk from him. in fact, you've got both hands pressed firmly against his chest to hold him back.

brother's bsf! mattheo grips your hips, your noses pressing together as he carefully inspects you. making sure you were alright is the only thing keeping him from committing violence.

"tell me where he is."

though mattheo's words are tinged with fury, his tone remains soft and sweet. his voice is nothing but a whisper because even at his angriest, mattheo would never raise his voice at you.

“give me a name, sweetheart. just give me his name."

"it's fine, matty. he's not worth the trouble."

“he left you alone, at a party where you don’t know anyone, got too drunk even though he knows he’s your ride home and got handsy with you even though you weren’t into it. give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck him up right now?”

“I can handle him later. can we please just go home? I'm tired and I just want to be in bed now.”

the cold air makes you shiver as you mentally curse yourself for picking such a skimpy outfit when hours ago you felt foolishly confident in your dress.

brother's bsf! mattheo softens when he sees you trembling. without a word, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. the scent of amber and cinnamon envelopes you all at once, lulling you into a calmer state.

"okay, princess. let me take you home."

once mattheo secures the baby pink helmet over your head, he tells you to hang on tight before taking off.

you hug his midsection, resting your chin on his shoulder as mattheo drives slow through the sprawling campus. the streets are empty, but he drags out the ride, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible.

at the strike of midnight, the two of you finally reach your dorm.

although you insist that you're fine, brother's bsf! mattheo walks you all the way up to your door.

the fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you shift your weight form one foot to the other, suddenly feeling shy.

"thanks for picking me up, matty."

"of course, y/n. you know I'd do anything if you're the one asking."

you smile, trying your hardest to hide the blush on your cheeks. "I hope I didn't ruin your night."

mattheo shrugs. "not at all. before you called, I was watching berkshire stuff marshmallows down his throat while the boys cheered him on. trust me, you weren't interrupting anything important."

"still. I appreciate you coming to my rescue and not ratting me out to my brother."

mattheo smiles. "it's our little secret, princess."

the double meaning of the words causes tension between you and the pull that you've always felt towards mattheo feels stronger than ever, tugging you closer.

maybe tonight is the night that you finally feel brave enough to fall.

"goodnight, matty."

brother's bsf! mattheo watches as you get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek like you always do. except this time, you lean in for a proper kiss.

as soon as mattheo's lips touch yours, you feel your entire body erupt like fireworks. it's everything you imagined it to be and more. his lips are soft against yours, supple and inviting. the kiss takes him by surprise, but once he realizes what's happening, he groans into your mouth, the sound of it filled with need.

dazed and confused, you look up as mattheo pulls away, his big brown eyes scanning your face. "we shouldn't do this, princess."

despite his words, mattheo's hand rests itself on your hip, his thumb brushing gentle circles against your exposed skin. you gulp as he stares at you, your lips brushing, your bodies gravitating towards each other no matter how hard you try to fight the pull.

"is it because of my brother?"

"no," mattheo growls. "we shouldn't do this because I don't know if I'll be able to stop once we start."

"I don't want you to stop, mattheo."

as soon as the words leave your lips, mattheo is kissing you again, and this time, he isn't holding back. you cling onto his shirt as he kisses you hard, the force of it hitting you all at once. his fingers dig into your hips as you bend at the waist, desperately kissing back.

his head is reeling and his heart is pounding. mattheo is drowning in your taste, your touch, your smell. you're every drug rolled into one; seductive and sinful. he's addicted and he can't get enough.

brother's bsf! mattheo doesn't want to pull away. he wants to stay here and live in this moment forever, but he knows that if he does, he'll end up taking everything.

foreheads pressed together, mattheo leans in for one last kiss. this one is sweet and gentle, enough to satiate him for the moment.

"sleep tight, princess. I'll see you in the morning."

"see you in the morning, matty."

brother's bsf! mattheo can't help but take one last look at you, a soft smile on his face when he sees your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.

in that moment, he knows he's fucked. you're his best mate's little sister. he shouldn't have kissed you. he shouldn't feel this way for you. he should've stopped before it was too late, but you were both way past that now.

now that he's had you, he won't want anything else. it's you he'll always crave. it's you he'll always long for. and he doesn't give a fuck what it takes to get you.

brother's bsf! mattheo won't stop until you're his and his alone. *✧･ﾟ:*

[sunlightandsuffering]

‘I lost my asshole friends in the club and you’re hot, help me’

Mikasa has in many occasions in her life as a young adult helped drunken partygoers get home. Friends, family members, acquaintances, strangers, you name it, she even once helped a lost dog get home on a particularly drunken Friday night. 

However, in her limited experience, she does not often help boys get home. 

They are a strange species, too macho to ask for help, and often knowing how to make their own way home, whether it be walking, or drunnkenly stumbling onto the bus. She rarely has to deal with the men in her life losing their faculties so completely that she has to get them home. No, when Mikasa plays mom in the club to her rag tag friend group, it is most often her girl friends who are the problem, namely Sasha. 

Tonight though, Sasha is remarkably well-behaved, sticking close to Connie instead and sharing his drinks instead of throwing back so many of her own. 

Mikasa had thought that maybe tonight would be a break, that she wouldn't be worrying about getting anyone else home.

So colour her surprised, when at 1:30 am, when all her friends are leaving, her the last out of the club, she bumps into the ultimate hot mess himself: Eren Yeager. Eren is hot, attractive in the kind of way most girls dream about, the big bad boy that’s going to sweep you off your feet, drop your panties and fuck you in the back alley before taking you home to cuddle in his bed, which probably doesn’t have a head board but does have a navy blue bedspread. She knows of Eren, has never met him personally, only seen him from afar in Armin’s pictures and too many drunken stories. Yet somehow, at the end of her night, he quite literally falls into her, and despite her own tall stature, it’s a miracle he doesn’t take them both to the floor. Only by the grace of god, her knee-high combat boots and the wall does she stop them from toppling to the floor. Eren on the other hand, deep dives right into the comfortable pillows of her cleavage, and as she catches her balance, one arm bracing them against the wall and the other, clutching his shoulders for support, Eren seems only too happy to be face-first in her tits. She colours bright pink at the thought, because it’s not just anyone diving for her breasts, it’s Eren fucking Yeager. 

“Hey,” she hisses, smacking him as she tries to tear them apart, “Those are my boobs jackass.” “And may I just say,” Eren mumbles, finally pulling himself from her chest, eyes glazed over with the effects of alcohol, “They are really fucking amazing, like seriously, you have great tits.” Mikasa genuinely doesn’t know what to say, because on one hand, wow, what a compliment and from Armin’s best friend the manwhore, it’s definitely high praise. But on the other hand, what the fuck? She settles for a glare and this seems to spark Eren’s brain into action, “Oh my god Mikasa! It’s you, Armin’s friend. Holy shit you’re prettier in person.” Mikasa bites down on her lip to contain her smile because shit, he knows who she is. “Yes, that would be me, what can I do for you Eren?” Eren beams at her, and why is his smile pretty, crooked in a way that’s too enticing, and the green of his eyes it’s fucking emerald sparkling, just like her mother’s wedding ring. 

The audacity of him to be so pretty in the middle of the night in the club when everyone else looks like trash and smells even worse, it’s just unfair really. 

“I umm, I saw you and I don’t know if you can tell but I’m a little more drunk than I’d like to be right now, and I took an edible about an hour ago and it’s realllllly starting to hit,” He tells her candidly, and as he says it she notices just how red his eyes are, and just how fucking out of it he looks, much perkier than she’d ever expect him to be. “But I saw you and I know who you are because Armin never shuts the fuck up about you and honestly, you’re stunning I would have definitely hit on you anyway, but I thought maybe you might be able to get me home.” He’s rambling now, but he very abruptly shuts up again as his eyes slide to her tits and Mikasa fights back a smile because wow she really is getting unfiltered Eren right now. 

“You want me to get you home?” Mikasa clarifies and Eren’s eyes dart up, a patented smirk overtaking his face as second nature kicks in, “To be honest I actually want to take you home, because I think together we would do truly great fucking things, but I think I’m too crossfaded to manage it.” 

Mikasa snorts as she calmly slips herself under his arm, her other wrapping around his waist to keep him steady, “You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning.” “Oh, I don’t doubt it, I’m killing my shot with Armin’s other best friend, and I’ve been waiting to make a move for a long ass time.” 

Mikasa barks out a laugh as she manoeuvres him out the door and past the bouncers who are watching them like hawks. They look suspicious of Eren and one even asks if she’s okay and Mikasa has to chuckle, she’s the one supporting him, she has no doubt he’s going to pass out as soon as his head hits the pillow. “I’m good,” She tells them wryly, before swinging Eren towards the intersection where most Ubers and cabs are picking people up. She sighs as she grabs for her phone, she’d really wanted to avoid fronting the uber bill tonight, but alas, that’s part of being the mom friend of the group. Eren smacks her hand away as soon as she opens the app. “Do it on my phone, it’s in my back pocket, you can put your address in to if you want, but you also don't have to, you could crash at my place."

She looks up at him, eyebrow quirked up, “Is that your really shitty way of telling my I can stay over.” He looks down at her affectionately, eyes sparkling with mirth and far too many substances, “If you want.” 

“I’ll think about it.” She doesn’t think about it, it’s not even a question. She only inputs one address into his phone, and it’s the one he tells her to. 

If he’s going to wake up tomorrow regretting shooting his shot with her, he’s going to do it with her in his bed so he can do it properly the second time around. They wait on the side of the street and Eren keep shooting her little glances, and tugging her closer under his arm, any excuse to touch and Mikasa can’t help but grin when he becomes fascinated with the curve of her waist. “You know, your skin is really soft, like so soft, you would make a great pillow.” 

“Thanks,” She responds wryly, and he nestles her in closer, his fingers lacing with her own where his arm is draped over her shoulder, “Especially your tits, really great pillow I know from personal experience.” “How are you so smooth right now? Genuinely I want to know,” Mikasa comments, looking up at him curiously. She has no doubt he really is high out of his mind, and too cross-faded to function, but seriously, how the fuck is he so suave right now? “I don’t know,” Eren tells her honestly, “I just think you have really great tits and I would personally love the opportunity to sleep on them later.” Mikasa giggles, full genuine laughter, “That’s all you want to do? Sleep on them?” “Of course, I would keep it perfectly appropriate, but preferably, your shirt would be off.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” “I’m not, I just get really chatty when I’m high, and you’re really pretty and I seriously cannot stop thinking about your rack, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry at all,” Mikasa teases him, helping him carefully towards the curb as their Uber pulls up.

Eren volleys right back, never missing a beat, “I’m not, not as long as you end up in my bed tonight without a shirt, as long as it gets me that I’m not sorry at all.” 

Getting Eren into the Uber is easier than she thought it would be, although he does seem quite reluctant to relinquish his hold on her waist, and seems very put out when they end up on opposite sides of the car, not even their thighs touching. She can’t suppress her smile when his eyes keep slipping to her cleavage, every few minutes like clockwork, he’ll look away, as if chastising himself. Then on cue, seconds later, his gaze is right back, eyes focused entirely on her breasts. Mikasa can’t say she’s too upset about it. 

When they arrive at his place Eren takes the lead, eager to get home now that he knows his surroundings. The car door is barely closed before he’s dragging her towards the apartment lobby. “Eren I was gonna get my own Uber–” “No you’re not, you’re sleeping in my bed, without a shirt,” He shoots her a downright mischievous glance as he clicks the button for the elevator, “Nothing is going to happen because I’m a gentleman, but Mikasa I will be using you as a pillow tonight, and you will like it.” He seems to think better of his sentence as the elevator doors open, looking back at her a little guiltily as he drags her inside, “That is unless you’re uncomfortable with it for any reason, in which case I will take the couch and I will be sad, but I will use a throw cushion.” 

Mikasa laughs again, because god is he fucking funny when he’s high, no traces of the serious playboy Armin always talks about, “You’re surprisingly eloquent you know.” “I’m always eloquent,” The words slip right off his tongue, “My mother was an English major and I don’t dick around when it comes to prose. Thus, my vocabulary is always fantastic.” 

Why is that hot, and why did he use ‘thus’ in a sentence? Who is this man? 

He grins at her, all teeth and it screams trouble. Yes, Mikasa is in trouble as they step out of the elevator and Eren leads her down the hall towards his apartment. Thankfully, he happens to have his keys on him because that would have been a true tragedy. The second they’re in his apartment, he kicks off his shoes, tugs off his shirt, and before she can say a word he’s speeding towards his bedroom. Eren doesn’t even bother to turn a light on, and Mikasa awkwardly follows him, toeing off her shoes and being careful to lock the door behind them. His apartment is very male, sparsely decorated and lit only by the light of the moon. There is a TV, a few plants and a comfortable looking sectional, but not much else. She slips down the hall awkwardly, wondering if she should linger or just let him knock himself out and pretend it never happened, tomorrow morning. But of course, that would mean losing her shot with Armin’s very hot other best friend who is clearly a little obsessed with her right back, and what fun would that be? 

Mikasa tiptoes towards the only open door in the hallway, what she can only assume is Eren’s bedroom. 

She finds him splayed out across the bed, his bedside table light on, and looking up at her expectantly. He’s somehow managed to change himself into a pair of sweats and nothing else, and yeah she was right, his sheets are navy blue. But nonetheless, his bed does look very comfy, the comforter exceptionally fluffy looking and probably nice and heavy, a great weight to sleep with on top of her. And to her immense surprise, he even has sheets, grey ones and they look fucking clean and isn’t that a turn on.

Eren beckons her from the corner of his large bed, crooking a finger towards her, and she goes willingly, stopping at the edge of the bed frame when he holds up his hand in a ‘stop’ motion. 

“Sorry, there’s a no shirt policy.” Mikasa stands in front of him, and without a second thought she strips her shirt off, mushes it up into a ball and then hurls it at Eren’s face with impressive accuracy. It lands with a satisfying thunk and Eren falls back to the mattress like he’s been mortally wounded. She takes off her pants too, choosing not to sleep in her jeans, before crawling into the bed. As Eren throws the shirt to the ground he has a pout on his face, and he looks decidedly unimpressed, “You’re still wearing a bra.”

Mikasa huffs, “You said nothing about a bra.” Now he’s being honest to god whiny, “Please?” 

Mikasa doesn’t really know why she relents. All she does know is that when he finally passes out, not five minutes later, it feels really fucking good to have Eren Yeager’s cheek pressed right against her breasts, his soft breaths fanning her nipple with every exhale. She’s more turned on than she’s ever been in her life, and she has no fucking idea how she’s going to fall asleep, especially not when his erection is so clearly pressed against her ass. 

She’s so fucked. But in the morning, when she wakes up to a much more sober Eren raining kisses over her chest, and those downright devious green eyes, she thinks she’s made the right choice. 

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

This is a headcanon, most of this is my fanfiction headcanon. Gotham Academy kind of just stopped from what I remember and it didn't feel like it had a final conclusion so this is my crossover if Olive Silverlock ever met back up with Batman and his second son. Might convert into a fanfic chapter if you guys like it, but be warned this is canon divergence mostly.

Olive Silverlock , holding a giant dagger, walks over to Batman who is with Red Hood and Damian Wayne (dressed Robin). Batman steps behind Red Hood.

Olive: Batman- Could you move please, taller man?

Red Hood: Oh sure.

Batman: You're not even going to restrain her?

Red Hood: Nah she looks like she's on a mission and I respect it.

Olive: Bat- Thank you- Now Batman, there's nothing to fear. Yes, for some time, I wanted to ruin your life. Not kill you, oh no, I wanted your life to be filled with pain and devastation, a metaphorical inferno. My years in hiding, accepting my role as Calamity has been... Eventful, but my mind always remembered you.

Batman: Olive, you're not in the right state of mind, but I can help you.

Olive (cackling): I love this new life, embraced the curse. The fire that leads me through life is the only light I see. I'm not going to hurt you though, I hate your guts, that's all. This dagger is just what I carry to look intimidating.

Red Hood: It works for you. I like the rainbow color.

Olive: Thank you. I have pyrokinesis powers so yeah this is just to look cool. I wanted to burn your house down as well, Mr. Wayne.

Batman: What?

Olive: Oh honey, it was not difficult to figure out who you are. Bruce Wayne, billionaire, too much time on your hands, wears a bat suit.

Hood: Accurate.

Batman: Red Hood, shut up.

Red Hood: Nah, continue Olive.

Olive (moving her knife to an unconerned Damian): Damian Wayne, stands to your right. Manipulated Maps to his side. This guy though... I don't know you. I'm Olive.

Olive holds out her hand in front of Red Hood. He shakes her hand back.

Red Hood: I'm the second Robin or was the second Robin, but then I got murdered by the Joker and he didn't kill the Joker, stayed dead for like 2 years got brought back to life through very convoluted means... they make sense in context, but still crazy when you hear them and now I'm Red Hood, nice to meet you.

Olive (snide): Of course, Mr. Justice couldn't even kill this guy's murderer, bravo Batman.

Damian: That's his son by the way.

Batman: Why would you tell her that?

Olive (glaring at Batman): Hood man, need me to give him a quick poke for you?

Red Hood (shakes his head chuckling): No, I'm over it. Are you okay?

Olive (shrugging): I'm adjusting, but it can be tough at times. Finding a place to live is especially difficult.

Red Hood: I get that. B said he could help you, but I feel like I might be a better aid for you. It will not be an easy journey, but you seem like you need better adjustment to life.

Batman: I -

Olive: Oddly enough, I trust your vibes. I'll take your offer, but what's your actual name?

Jason removes his helmet so that Olive can see his face.

Red Hood: Call me Jason.

Olive: Oh, cool we both have white hair.

Jason: Works out doesn't it? Come on, I'll get you something to eat.

Olive (flipping her dagger and catching it with ease): Works for me.

Olive walks off with Jason as Damian and Batman watch them leave.

Batman: What actually just occured here?

Damian: I think he made friends with an insane teenager. Good for him that might be his adopted daughter now. I'm not going to lie.

Batman: Why is this normal to me?

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Brewin' Between the Lines

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N is still reeling from her run-in with her favorite actress, Jenna Ortega, as she tries to keep things cool in The Daily Grind. Between casual conversation and a shared love for horror novels, the lines between star and stranger begin to blur. As the café empties out and the night winds down, an unexpected moment catches them both off guard—proving that sometimes, the best connections are brewed in the quietest of moments.

Word Count: 1.5k

As I poured the caramel syrup into the iced coffee, my mind raced, replaying the moment Jenna Ortega pulled down her mask. My hands were slightly shaky, trying to maintain focus as I finished off the whipped cream swirl on top. It wasn't every day your favorite actress sat just a few feet away, waiting for you to bring her a drink. The—Jenna Ortega. It wasn't just any celebrity—this was her. I'd admired her ever since her performance on Wednesday. A week ago, I was geeking out to my friends after watching her take on the role of Astrid Deetz in Tim Burton's Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. When she appeared as a cameo in that recent Sabrina Carpenter music video, I was convinced she could do no wrong. I'd followed her career for years, through every role, every transformation. And now here she was, casually sitting in my café, probably just wanting to be treated like anyone else.

But it wasn't just anyone else to me. This was the actress I had looked up to for years, and I was the one making her coffee. I could already feel my face growing warm with the realization, but I pushed the thoughts aside. Stay calm, Y/N. It's just coffee. As I finished the drink, placing it neatly on the counter next to a napkin, I took a deep breath and reached for the tray, trying to look like I wasn't about to freak out. Just as I turned to deliver the order, Wilma emerged from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. She gave me a sideways glance, then noticed the look on my face. She smirked, walking over with a bounce in her step. "So, how's Hoodie holding up?" she asked, leaning against the counter, clearly entertained by whatever she thought was happening. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

I tried to play it off. "It's nothing—just another customer, you know?" Wilma wasn't buying it. Her smirk widened as she crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. Just another customer? The same one who's been looking over their shoulder thrice this week? Oh, please." She leaned closer, her voice lowering like she was about to spill the juicest secret. "You're acting like your celebrity crush just walked in or something." I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and quickly shook my head. "Wilma, seriously, it's nothing. Just another order." But Wilma raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced. She wasn't going to let this go. "Just another order, huh? You've got that look, Y/N. I know that look. Spill it." She glanced toward the booth, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Wait a minute...don't tell me. Jenna Ortega? Oh my God—it's her, isn't it? I shot her a desperate look, hoping to shut her down before she made a scene. "Wilma—" But she was already grinning ear to ear, loving every second of this. "Holy crap, Jenna—freakin'—Ortega is in our café! And I threw you right into it! This is too good." I sighed, knowing there was no way I could stop her now. "Wilma, keep your voice down! She's just trying to be left alone." Wilma's eyes sparkled, totally unfazed. "Well, aren't you the lucky one? Getting to talk to your celebrity crush? And here I thought you'd hide behind the counter all day." She gave me a playful nudge, clearly enjoying herself. I huffed, trying to control the blush that was now spreading across my face. "I didn't have a choice. You practically pushed me into it." Wilma laughed, crossing her arms, satisfied with how things had turned out. "Well, looks like my plan worked. And now, you've got a story to tell." I glared at her, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the assist, I guess." "Anytime," she replied, still grinning. "Now go deliver that coffee before it melts. Don't want to keep Jenna waiting, do you?" I took one final breath to calm my nerves, grabbed the tray with Jenna's iced coffee, and shot Wilma one last look as I headed toward the booth. "You're enjoying this way too much." Wilma winked. "Oh, absolutely."

With the tray in hand, I made my way toward Jenna's booth, taking slow, deliberate steps, trying not to trip over anything that could make this moment even more awkward. My heart was still hammering in my chest, and I swore I could feel Wilma's eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as she watched me. Jenna hadn't noticed me yet. She was sitting in the booth, quietly absorbed in a book. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of the page as she read, the soft glow from her phone resting nearby. For a second, I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her peaceful moment, but I had to deliver the iced coffee she was waiting for. I cleared my throat quietly, just enough to catch her attention. "Your iced coffee," I said, setting the tray down gently on the table. She blinked, looking up from her book, pulling her hood back slightly as she met my gaze. A small, genuine smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks," she said softly, closing the book but keeping her finger between the pages to hold her place. "No problem," I replied, stepping back and clasping my hands in front of me, trying to act casual. My eyes flickered to the book in her lap; the title was just barely visible. I recognized it immediately— it was a classic horror novel I'd read a few years back. Of course, she's into horror. She caught me looking, and instead of feeling awkward, I smiled. "So...do you come here to escape, or is this just your go-to spot for caramel iced coffee?" Jenna smirked, taking a sip before answering. "A little bit of both. It's hard to find places like this in Hollywood—where people don't care who you are." "We're not big on the whole celebrity worship thing," I replied. "I mean, everyone needs their coffee fix, right?" "Exactly." She smiled again, this time wider, her eyes lighting up. There was something refreshing about the way she relaxed here. It felt like she wasn't just Jenna Ortega, the star of the screen, but a regular person looking for a little peace. I noticed the book still resting in her lap. "is that The Haunting of Hill House?" Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and she was clearly surprised I recognized it. "Yeah, it is," she replied, glancing down at the cover. I've read it before but thought I'd revisit it."

I nodded, a bit of my nervousness fading. "Good choice. Shirley Jackson really knows how to mess with your head, right?" Jenna's smile widened a little as she leaned back in her seat. "Exactly. It's one of my favorites. Creepy, but in a subtle way." I found myself relaxing, the conversation flowing more easily than I expected. "Yeah, the tension in that book...you just feel it building, and you don't even realize you're holding your breath until something happens." She chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Right? I love that feeling when a book gets under your skin." For a brief second, I forgot she was Hollywood's it girl. She was just another person who loved horror novels, just like me. "Well, I'll leave you to it," I said, realizing I'd been lingering too long. "But if you need anything else, just let me know." Jenna picked up her iced coffee and smiled. "Thanks. I will." I turned and headed back to the counter, feeling Wilma's eyes follow suit the whole time.

The second I made it behind the counter, she sidled up next to me with a wide grin. "Sooo? How'd it go, mascot?" she teased, elbowing me. I huffed, rolling my eyes. "I didn't die, if that's what you're asking." Wilma laughed, leaning against the counter. "Oh, come on, spill. Did you chat with her? Did she say anything?" "Yeah, we talked a little," I admitted, feeling the blush creep back onto my face. "She was reading The Haunting of Hill House—you know, classic horror stuff. I tried to keep it cool." Wilma raised an eyebrow. "And?" "And she was super chill about everything. We even geeked out over Shirley Jackson." Wilma's grin widened. "Looks like Jenna approves of your horror knowledge and barista skills. You must be so proud." I groaned, shaking my head. "Please stop." She shrugged, smirk, plastered. "Hey, who knows? Maybe she'll come back just for you." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "If she does, I'll need more than coffee to calm my nerves next time." Wilma chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Nerves? More like butterflies." I shot her a look but couldn't help smirking. "Yeah, and hopefully, I don't spill anything on myself next time." Wilma nodded, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough, superstar. Just remember me when you're living the high life." I glanced back at Jenna's booth one last time. She was already back in her book, occasionally sipping her iced coffee with a relaxed expression. "I guess we'll see in the future."

Three hours until closing, the café had settled into a familiar lull. A handful of customers lingered in their cozy corners, sipping the last of their drinks and enjoying the quiet, low hum of conversation around them. I busied myself behind the counter, wiping it down out of habit, but as I worked, I couldn't help but feel proud. This is exactly the vibe we had hoped for when Wilma and I opened The Daily Grind—a safe haven for anyone who wanted to escape the hustle and bustle of Hollywood, whether they were famous or not. Our little café has become a sanctuary where the pressure of being judged is nonexistent. It was calm, cozy, and welcoming—a little quiet in a city of lights, cameras, and action.

The cafe itself radiated that comforting atmosphere. The evening sun filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm amber glow over the space. The walls were painted in soft, earthy tones—warm beige and deep mocha—creating an atmosphere that wrapped around you like your favorite blanket. String lights twinkled gently overhead, casting a soft, golden light across the mismatched cushioned chairs and rustic wooden tables. Above the tables, lush green plants dangled from the ceiling in macramé holders, their vines cascading down like little waterfalls of greenery, adding a fresh, earthy scent to the room. The plants brought a touch of nature inside, softening the edges of the café's industrial-chic décor. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the faint scent of vanilla candles that burned on the windowsills. The rest of the evening went by quietly, with a comforting rhythm of soft chatter and the occasional clink of mugs. I was leaning over the counter, enjoying the calm, when Wilma came up beside me, holding a pink box. "Hey, mascot," she said, nudging me gently. "It's three hours to closing. Why don't you take this over to Prima?" She lifted the lid to reveal a perfectly frosted strawberry donut with rainbow sprinkles. "Prima?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. Wilma smirked. "Yeah, Prima. It means 'first' in Spanish—like the top of her game. She's Hollywood's leading lady, right? It fits." I rolled my eyes but took the box from her. "You and your nicknames." "Hey, it's fitting. Now go give her the donut before I eat it myself," Wilma replied with a chuckled.

As I made my way over to Jenna's booth, I could feel the familiar flutter of nerves returning. She was still engrossed in her book, oblivious to the world around her. I cleared my throat softly as I approached, setting the box on the table. "Hey, I thought you might like this," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's on the house." Jenna looked up, blinking in surprise. "A donut?" She smiled, peeking inside the box. "With sprinkles?" "Strawberry frosted with sprinkles," I replied a little too quickly. "One of my favorites." Her smile widened, and she closed her book, giving the donut her full attention. "Thank you. This is...really sweet of you. Literally." I laughed softly, suddenly feeling a bit less nervous. "Well, we figured you could use a treat, seeing as you've been hanging out here for a while." Jenna nodded, taking the donut from the box and tearing off a piece. "This place is a perfect hideaway. I don't think I've ever felt this...relaxed in public." "Well, that's exactly what we aim for," I said, smiling as she took a bite of the donut. Jenna smirked and raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting playfully. "And here I thought you were going to spill the sugar again." I chuckled, feeling the heat creep up my neck. "Hey, I managed to keep it together this time. Progress, right?" She smiled. "I'll give you that. But if you need a backup plan, I think the sprinkled donut would cover for any future spills."

Fifty minutes before closing. I was wiping down the counters when Wilma came up beside me, pulling off her apron and holding her bag. "Hey, mascot," she said, glancing at the clock. "I've gotta head out. Time to pick up the little monsters from soccer practice." I raised an eyebrow. "The twins?" She nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yup, those two can't stay out of trouble. If I don't get there on time, they'll probably have convinced the coach to let them play goalie...at the same time." I chuckled. "Good luck with that. Go, save the day." Wilma gave me a dramatic sigh. "You know me, always the hero. But seriously, are you okay with closing up tonight?" "Yeah, I've got it. It's a quiet night." Wilma smirked. "Alright, just don't let Prima keep you past closing. She's still over there, right?" I glanced over toward Jenna's usual booth and shrugged. "I think so. She's been pretty quiet. Probably lost in her book." Wilma, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Well, don't let her charm you too much. I'll see you tomorrow, mascot." With that, she gave me a quick wave and hurried out the door, leaving me alone to finish up the last stretch of the evening. The café slowly emptied out, and as I tidied up, I assumed Jenna had left too. After all, I hadn't noticed her in a while. But as I wiped down the tables and put the chairs up, I glanced over at the window and froze.

She was still there

Curled up in her hoodie, her head resting against the window, she looked peaceful, completely engulfed in her book. Her iced coffee was finished, and the remains of the sprinkled donut sat on the napkin, crumbs scattered on it. It was only twenty minutes until closing, and I realized I'd have to get her attention. I changed from my apron and walked over. "Jenna?" I called softly, not wanting to startle her. She didn't respond, enthralled with the pages. After another unsuccessful attempt, I reached out and gently tapped her shoulder. She jumped slightly, eyes widening in surprise as she looked up at me. "Hey," she said softly, clearly shaken out of her book-induced daze. I chuckled, stepping back. "Sorry, I hate to bother you, but it's closing time." Jenna blinked, glancing around the now-empty cafe. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she realized she was the last one there. "Oh, wow, I didn't even notice. Sorry about that." "No problem," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "Take your time packing up." I tried to make the situation less awkward as she gathered her things. "You know, I've really enjoyed watching you in... well, everything," I admitted, feeling a bit shy. "Especially Wednesday and Beetlejuice 2. But I've been a fan of your work for a long time." Jenna smiled, her expression softening. "Thank you. That means a lot."

She slung her bag over her shoulder and paused, glancing at me curiously. Actually, can I ask you something?" I blinked. "Of course." "What's your honest opinion of my acting? I always like hearing what people outside the industry think. It's...different." Surprised by the question, I hesitated for a moment, but then I nodded. "Honestly? I think you're amazing. Every time you're on screen, it's like... all eyes are on you. You make it look so effortless like you become the character. It's impressive." Jenna's cheeks turned a little pink again, and this time, I knew it wasn't my imagination. "Wow," she said softly. "That's...probably the nicest feedback I've heard in a while. Thank you." We walked out of the café together, and I didn't realize she'd been walking with me to my car until we reached the lot. We stood there, lingering momentarily, both of us realizing simultaneously. Jenna giggled lightly. "Looks like I walked you to your car instead of the other way around. Guess you've got me charmed after all." I laughed, feeling my own cheeks heat up. Before I could respond, two men in casual clothing approached us from the side, startling me. I froze, eyes wide, but Jenna remained calm. "Don't scare her like that," Jenna said, scolding the men. "Apologize." "Sorry, ma'am, one of the men said quickly, looking genuinely sorry. "They're my bodyguards," Jenna explained, turning to me. "They're with me 24/7, but I told them to give me space in the café. Guess they couldn't resist checking in." I let out a breath, feeling relieved. "That makes sense. We've got a security guard next door at the boutiqué, so I get it. I've also seen bodyguards hang out in the café, keeping an eye on things." Jenna nodded, smiling. "I'll have to bring them in next time for a coffee." I grinned. "Yeah, and I'll have to tell you about the crazy stuff I've seen. We've got some funny bodyguard stories." Jenna raised an eyebrow, her smile playful. "I'll hold you to that. Sounds like a promise," "It's a promise," I said, trying to keep my voice steady though my heart was racing. As Jenna opened her car door, she paused.

"By the way, I never got your name." "Oh," I stammered. "It's Y/N. But everyone calls me Y/N/N." "Nice to meet you officially, Y/N," she said with a smile. "I'm Jenna, but you already knew that." I laughed. "Oh, you're Jenna Ortega! No way you looked familiar!" She laughed, waving as she climbed into the car, her bodyguards following suit. I watched them drive off, and once she was out of sight, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I climbed into my own car, pressing my hands to my face and letting out a small squeal into the steering wheel. "I guess Wilma was right again...she's never going to let me live this one down," I muttered dreamily, starting the engine with a grin still plastered on my face.

[ouijarat]

Too Weird To Love, Too Scared To Die

Chapter Two

(Chapter One here if you missed it >>>)

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

“What. The fuck. Are you doing?” 

“Uh… making breakfast? Duh? What does it look like I’m doing? Aren’t really using that big brain of yours this morning, are ya, IQ?”

As memories of what he had done rushed back to him, Stanford stood there in the entryway, fists clenched and mouth opening and closing like a dead fish as his face turned red with fury upon resigning to the fact that this was, most likely, not a dream. Bill snapped his fingers and suddenly a gramophone nestled into the corner of the room sparked to life, a symphony of soft 1930s jazz hits cascading through the kitchen as the triangle hummed along. He unceremoniously poured the disgusting contents of the pan onto a plate before flicking his wrist to manifest a mug of black coffee (Ford’s favorite, he knew), delicately floating both dishes over to the table and snapping again to pull out a chair. “Sit,” the triangle said cheerfully, as though he were talking to a dog.

The scientist was filled with a burning hatred and fury like he’d never experienced before, unable to stop it from bubbling over like thoroughly shaken soda from an open can. On instinct alone he grabbed a knife from the block on the counter and hurled it at the triangle as hard as he could. The knife lodged itself into Bill’s exoskeleton, just to the right of his eye, only to immediately absorb itself into the surface of the creature’s face before disappearing into it entirely. The demon stood there for a moment, apathetically unfazed. He sighed, almost sounding disappointed.

 “And here I thought we could have a nice meal together.” 

Bill rolled his eye and snapped his fingers once more, an invisible force attaching itself to Ford and dragging him over to the table before pushing him down into the chair with a grunt from the scientist. Stanford seethed silently as he was forcibly glued to the seat, the hatred of a thousand suns burning behind his eyes as he glared at his former muse. His former sun and all its surrounding stars. “What is this place?” 

The demon floated over to the chair opposite Ford, plopping himself down only to realize he was far too short, only barely able to see over the table. He clapped his hands and summoned a booster seat beneath him, now eye level with his once devoted disciple that was currently glaring daggers at him.  “This, my big brained friend, is everything you’ve ever wanted!”

Ford blinked. “You’re insane.”

Bill blinked back. “...Stanford, we established this a while ago.”

The scientist’s face contorted in a harmony of anger and anguish. “You can’t possibly believe your little glorified prison will sway me into anything. You’ve already beaten me. You’ve taken everything from me. You won, Cipher. What more could you possibly want?” He spat. 

The demon scoffed, rolling his eye. “All I want is for my favorite little human to be happy!” He sing-songed, presumably in an attempt to keep things light hearted, yet he only really succeeded in being extremely unsettling. 

Stanford’s expression was blank as he felt bile rise in his throat and suddenly he found himself barking out a cruel, humorless laugh. “You can’t possibly be serious.” 

“Deathly,” Bill said, his exoskeleton flashing a blazing red and his voice distorting before he chuckled and went back to normal, as though nothing had happened. “I created this place for you based on all the information I collected from your ol’ noggin over the years! I thought of everything! I can give ya the grand tour after breakfast. Don’t you love it, Fordsy?” 

The triangle batted his absurdly long eyelashes, hopefully and eagerly waiting for Ford’s response, a reaction, anything, as though he expected something positive. As though he hadn’t just doomed his entire dimension, tortured and entrapped him and taken him away from his family. As though he hadn’t immediately ruined his life the second they met. The scientist’s reaction was not, surprise surprise, overwhelmingly positive. 

“I’d rather you have just killed me.” He seethed, expression twisting into one of disgust, snuffing out the hopeful, manic glint in Bill’s eye. 

Bill sighed. “I should’ve known you’d be difficult. You’re always so difficult now. What is with you lately? You used to be so obedient. Can we please go back to that?” He sighed, eye squeezed shut in frustration as he rubbed where his temples presumably would be. He waved a small, black-gloved hand and a bottle of red wine appeared on the table, along with a single wine glass. “You’re driving me to drink, Sixer. Are you proud of yourself?” He poured himself an entirely too generous amount.

“I’m not playing games with you. Where is my family?” Ford deadpanned.

“Yes you are! We never stopped playing. You just stopped making it fun. Y’know half the appeal of chess is the banter-” 

“Cipher.” 

“They’re fine, brainiac. Well- actually I dunno about that inferior double of yours. I had him disposed of since you never really seemed to like him anyway. But, I took the liberty of putting the objectively better of the two little ones in here with you! I’m sure Shooting Star is around here somewhere. I really gotta map this place out, it's getting ridiculous. What do you call her? Marble? Maple?”  

Ford gripped the armrests of the wooden chair in a six-fingered vice.

 “And Dipper?” He gritted out through clenched teeth. 

“Pinetree? Safe and sound, as promised… regrettably. I thought it’d be best if he didn’t interfere with all this, though. Real vibe killer, that one.”

“Where. Is. He.” He began to shake with rage.

“I told you already. Safe. Sound. Are you going deaf or something? I didn’t think you were that old-”

Fed up, the scientist slammed both hands onto the table, knocking the repulsive plate of marsupial viscera onto the tile floor with a clatter, anger practically oozing out of every pore. He futilely attempted to lunge at the demon yet he remained glued to his seat as Bill just sat there, looking only slightly disappointed before taking long, slow sip of his wine. 

“I just made that for you, y’know.” The demon sighed, voice pitched in irritation. 

“Take me to them. Now.” Stanford snarled, nearly frantic. He refused to humor the monster’s sick delusions, and if he had so much as laid a finger on the younger pines twins, no matter how powerless against him he was now Ford would find a way to make him pay for it. 

“Not with that attitude. What, don't take my word for it? I made a deal didn't I?”

Ford kicked the table. “Of course I don’t take your fucking word for it! You’re the universe’s most deceptive villain! Every word you’ve ever said to me was a lie!” 

Bill gave him a bitter look, almost one of offense. “Woah woah woah, not everything-” 

“Bullshit! You just can’t help yourself can you? Do you hear yourself!?” He ranted, venom spewing from his every word. “You’re sick. What are you really trying to accomplish here? What is all this really for, Cipher?”

Bill stood up on his seat, trying to make himself bigger. “I told you I-”

“I don’t care about your convoluted lies! Why am I here? I have nothing left to give you! Is this just some sick ploy for you to worm your way back into my head? For you to have someone to control? For you to feel special again? For you to play god? Newsflash, demon, you are not a god, and I will never, ever, be manipulated and seduced into worshiping you like one ever again. You’re a sadistic, one-eyed, freak, Cipher, and I was a naive fool to ever think any differently.”

Bill stood there in shock for a moment, pupil so narrowly slitted that it almost disappeared entirely into the white of his eye. The wine glass in his hand abruptly shattered. In an instant he flipped from astounded to furious, his body turning to a fiery red once more. His tiny fists balled up at his sides, shaking as he shrieked, “Okay, that’s it, bucko! Didn’t they ever teach you in kindergarten that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?!”  

Just as Stanford was about to retort, the triangle threw up a pointer finger toward his face and suddenly he found himself unable to open his mouth at all. He immediately began to panic, hands coming up to claw at his face as though he could pry the magic seal off his lips with brute force. He fell to his knees as he was suddenly no longer stuck to his chair and it was ripped out from under him and slammed against the far wall with a loud bang. Suddenly, the tiles around him began to appear to turn almost liquid and red papered walls began to rise out of the floor on all sides. His insults and profanities were muffled as the walls rose higher and higher surrounding him until they met the ceiling, effectively trapping him in. Once he could no longer see Bill, the spell keeping him quiet was lifted and he gasped for breath. He stood up, frantically looking around for an exit point, but the pseudo-cage seemed to be effectively air tight. His ex-muse’s voice echoed and bounced off the narrow walls. 

“Say you’re sorry.”

Ford grimaced, head whipping around trying to pinpoint what direction the voice was coming from. He laughed dryly and joylessly. “You’re psychotic.” His eyes went wide as the ground shook beneath him, the walls of his confine suddenly moving closer together, enclosing the space even further. 

“Say. You’re. Sorry.” 

Ah. So this was how Bill wanted to play. The scientist brandished his fists and banged on the wall defiantly. “Over my dead body!” The cage got smaller.

“Say it!”

Stanford was quickly realizing he may be running out of options here. Hypothetically if the situation were different, he would honestly and truthfully rather die via pancaking between four rapidly encroaching walls than even think of apologizing to Bill Cipher. However, the kids were somewhere. Alone. At the end of the world. And if he died now, there’s no telling what could happen to them, assuming it hadn’t happened already. The walls began to push back against his braced arms and the demon kept screaming, voice shrill and headache inducing. 

“Say it! Say it say it say it say it-”

“...I’m sorry.”

And everything stopped. 

[charliesangel67]

Against all odds

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Word count- 1567

Warnings: Smutttt, a little bit of fluff, acedemic rivals (kind of, idk how to write it)

Authors note: I'm actually so sorry this took so long, idek why but it was a bit hard to write. Anyway, it's here and I hope you enjoy.

This was based of off @weirdowithnobeardo 's idea which is the first comment on this post

“Ok, can somebody tell me the answer to question b?” Quickly, hands flew up in the air. “Mr Cameron, what is the answer?” “4x+7n=33y” Rafe said confidently. “”That’s wrong.” I announced. “Go on, what’s your theory Miss y/n?” My teacher said, “It’s 4x+7n=36y because x is equal to 2.” I stated. “That is correct y/n, well done.” My teacher smiled at me. I smiled in Rafe’s direction but he just glared at me. Next period science, we got our tests back, “So Cameron, what did you get?” I asked Rafe curiously. “94%, you?” “99%” I replied with a smile. Again, he seemed so angry at me for getting a higher score. This went on for the next couple of weeks, He acted like we were academic rivals.

3 weeks later

There it was, the test sitting on my desk, a bright red ‘A+’ written in the top right corner. I was proud of myself for scoring so high on such a hard test. It was 40% of my final GPA result so I had to score high. I turned around to see Rafe staring daggers at me. “Bad result Cameron?” I asked him teasingly. “Shut up y/l/n” He growled as he clenched his jaw. I giggled to myself and turned my attention back to the teacher. 

The bell rang for the end of the day and I hurriedly grabbed my backpack and ran to my locker. My friend Maddy always meets me at my locker because we’re in different year levels, Maddy’s in 10th and I’m in 11th grade. “So, how was your day Mads?” I asked unlocking my locker. “Shit. So fucking shit you have no idea.” “I’m sure it couldn't have been that bad.” I laughed. “No, y/n it was bad. So bad in fact that I got broken up with by Jason the son of a bitch in front of half the cafeteria.” She announced. “Oh shit, sorry babe, he was no good for you anyway.” I said walking away with her. 

As we were walking to my car, Maddy realised she had forgotten something in her locker so she ran back towards the buildings. Suddenly, I felt a rough hand grab hold of my upper arm and pin me against a wall. A hand covered my mouth to stop me from screaming. “Oh you son of a bitch. You’re so fucking done little girl.” I knew the voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite figure out who it was. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light and situation, I realised it was Jason and his group of friends. 

“So, did you and Maddy talk shit about me to the school after what I did to her?” He asked again, still keeping me against the wall. “What the fuck. No we didn’t, why would you think that?” I was astonished at the accusation. “Because, now the whole school thinks that I have an STD and all the girls I’ve slept with have smashed my locker and put slime in the gas tank of my car.” He complained. “Wow, creative girls for real.” I said with a little laugh. “Ok, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” 

“It was me, you son of a bitch!” Yelled Rafe, walking towards us. “Why?! Why the fuck would you do that?” Jason asked, close to tears. Rafe pulls a phone out of his pocket and starts reading some texts - 

“‘C’mon Maddy, It won’t be that bad. Why don’t you wanna sleep with me?”

“Because I’m not ready for that Jason, I’ve told you a million times. We have only been together a month and I’m not ready to have sex yet. Just stop asking me already.”

“Fine. Go fuck some other dude, you fucking slut. You’ll regret not being with me.” “What do you mean Jason? Are you breaking up with me??”” 

“Hey! Where did you get my phone from you bitch?!” Jason asked launching himself at Rafe, who dodged the blow perfectly. “You left her on delivered for 9 hours just so you could slut shame her and break up with her in the cafeteria in front of everyone, all because she didn’t want to sleep with you?!  Not to mention you cheated on her the entire relationship. You’re a real ass man.” Rafe said. “I suggest you leave Maddy, Y/n and all the other girls you’ve messed with, alone and get on with your life.” Rafe yelled as Jason and his friends ran away.

They knew how powerful Rafe could be and they didn’t want to get on his bad side. “Thanks Rafe. Why did you do that anyway?” I asked, “Don’t think I did it for you, I hate Jason.” “Oh, okay.” I replied sheepishly before walking away, back to my car and to meet with Maddy. The drive home was silent after I told Maddy all about what happened. Her being in disbelief about what Rafe had done to Jason. 

A couple weeks later, it was Midsummers, I had bought a nice dress and had a plan laid out on how we were going to spend the evening with Maddy and her sister, Kiara. Kiara picked us up and we drove to the Cameron’s mansion as that was where the party was. Kiara was friends with Sarah, Rafes younger sister.

A couple hours into the party,  Rafe approached me, taking my hand and dragging me upstairs. “Rafe, what are you doing?” I whispered, “Taking you to my room.” “Why?” I asked, a little scared. “Because you look way too beautiful in that dress and I noticed JJ basically eye fucking you.” He turned to face me, looking very sexy in his button down shirt and his hair falling into his eyes. Without thinking I put my hand out to brush his hair away from his face, he grabbed my neck and leaned down to kiss me. 

“No, Rafe, we can’t do this.” I said as I pulled away. “Why not y/n?” “Because, I’m a pogue, you're a kook and you should hate me. In fact, you did act like you hated me after you stood up for me in front of Jason, and now suddenly you’re acting all jealous when JJ looks at me?” I asked in a confronting manner. “Look, y/n, I like you.” “No, we can’t Rafe. Your dad is gonna kill you and my parents are gonna fucking disown me or something if they found out I was dating a kook, especially Mr Rafe Cameron with his bad reputation.” 

Rafe didn’t say another word, he just leaned down again to kiss me, This time it was more passionate. At that moment, I didn’t even care that we shouldn’t be doing this, I just kissed him back. Rafe picked me up and carried me to his room. He threw me on the bed and locked the door. He crawled on top of me and placed feather light kisses along my neck to my cleavage. “Can I?” he asked as his fingers were tangled in the strap off my dress. “Mmmh,” I responded softly as he carefully took off my dress. 

I tugged at his belt, hinting for him to take off his pants as I unbuttoned his shirt. Within minutes, we were both butt naked, he took my boobs in his hands, massaging them and kissing along them. I moaned at the pleasure. I palmed his cock through his boxers and I felt him getting hard underneath my hand. Quickly, Rafe ripped off his boxers and rubbed his cock against my entrance. Already slick and wet, he pushed inside. I moaned as he did so, Rafe thrusted slowly and sensually.

“Mmh, You like that baby?” He asked, staring into my eyes. “So much Rafe.” I replied. Rolling my eyes back as Rafe thrusted harder into my soaking cunt and he kissed along my breasts. Soon, I was nearing my release, my cunt tightening around him. And a couple thrusts later I had come undone onto his thick cock. “Fuck baby, I'm gonna come.” “Come in me Rafe.” I begged him and seconds later he squirted his hot cum into my pussy. Out of breath and panting, I crawled on top of him, lying on his chest, my hands tangled in his hair as he kissed my neck. “Promise we can keep this a secret for a little while longer until I tell my parents?” I asked him. Rafe nodded and uttered a soft ‘yes’. I kissed him one more time before getting up and getting dressed. 

“I’m gonna head back down stairs okay? The girls are gonna be worried about where I was.” I told him, opening the door. “One more kiss babe.” Rafe said and when I turned around, seeing his abs again stirred something deep within me. Want. I wanted this man. His hair, his face, his body, his personality towards me. I wanted everything about him. I didn’t think, I just jumped back onto the bed into his arms. Rafe kissed me hard and passionate and I melted into his touch. Soon we were back at it again, he was thrusting slowly and sensually into my soaked cunt as I buried my face in his shoulder quieting my moans.

That night was the best sex I ever had. 

I also got a super protective boyfriend.

I hope you guys liked this 😁