#(especially after she spent all that time doing press saying

[del-thetiredwriter]

Twisted Wonderland/ Otome AU

Warning: not really dark themes? Mentioned. Gn reader. English is not my first language.

Notes: it’s been a really long time since. I was going to post this as soon as finishing translating this but my mid-term exams were came up so I couldn’t post anything. Anyway I hope you like this post. I will post Octavinelle part as soon as I finish the translation.

Summary: : One day, you opened your eyes and found yourself in Twisted Wonderland. And the task the System gave you is to get one of the lead characters love meter to 100% by the end of the main story and reach their happy ending.

Part 1

Leona Kingscholar

Lonely , grumpy savanaclaw's dorm leader, second prince Leona Kingscholar. I can't say that your first official meeting with Leona will be very good, and the same goes for the percentage of your love meter. First of all, good luck, your job is very difficult. However, after the overblot incident, your job will be a little easier.

Leona does not trust anyone due to his nature and experiences. He is sure that you are approaching him for a reason he has difficulty guessing. He will do his best not to get attached to you. After all you will also prefer someone else compared to Leoana , who has always been the other option throughout his life. So please stay by his side when he tells you to get lost, because deep down he loves being with you. I would also like to point out that being by his side will increase your love meter a lot as he runs away from you.

With Leona, it usually happens when he uses you as a pillow and sleeps (sometimes you swear he doesn't sleep). But you try not to talk too much in this activity, because the last time he bit you because you nagged about being late for class and your friends waiting for you while he was taking a nap . Afterwards he threatened to bite you again (not too harshly) and eat you. Although this unexpected event increased Leona's love meter considerably, you understood the warning that day very clearly. Sometimes you two would play chess. And usually, let's say, you are the loser. Leona loves the facial expressions you make when you are trying to figure out his next move or when you are cornered and lose. He also shows the privilege of being a prince in the later stages of your relationship, both materially and emotionally.

Now let's come to Leona in dark mode. Leona is a possessive lover by nature. Although it bothers him when you spend time with others, he respects you, but she can enter dark mode, especially depending on how he learns about your friendship with Malleus Draconia. In fact, Leona is also aware of the existence of the system. Not talking to him about this system stuff or following someone else's route along with his route can again put him in dark mode. Leona in dark mode is quite possessive. He wants everyone to know that you belong to him. He even leaves clues that others can understand without you noticing. Leona is very cunning and intelligent. He knows that brute force is not enough to possess you completely. He acts like a perfect lover in your relationship. He monopolizes you financially and emotionally . He introduces you to his family on holidays. Even if you don't realize it, these meetings are called engagement meetings in the press. Farena is ready to do anything for his only brother.

Ruggie Bucchi

Laid-back yet cunning, Savanaclaw second year student Ruggie Bucchi. Dear player who chose the Ruggie route, first of all, if you want to increase your love meter, I should mention that a portion of your income will go to buying donuts for this hyena boy. Please adjust your income with him in mind. Everything else aside, it won't be that hard to be friends with Ruggie, but it will take a long time for him to fully trust you and increase his love meter. However, once you exceed that limit, your love meter will increase continuously.

Your time with Ruggie is usually spent eating meals together or listening to him complain about Leona. Listening to him, giggling while he complains... oh, you are really too much for Ruggie... Also, watching him in club activities will increase your love meter quite a bit. Now, I may have said at the beginning that a portion of your income will go to this hyena boy, but that doesn't mean he does nothing. Although he doesn't get gifts very often, this hyena boy saves money to buy you gifts on special occasions. Even though he can't spoil you right now, he promises himself that he will spoil you as he wants in the future.

Now let's talk about Ruggie in dark mode...Ruggie knows he's not the best. After all, your environment is full of people who are smarter, more talented, richer, and more handsome than him. What kind of relationship you have with these people doesn't matter to Ruggie in dark mode, what matters is that Ruggie is inadequate to them in many ways and that you might leave him because of his inadequacy. What if you find someone who can spoil you as you want? Someone who can give you the life you deserve...

At first, you don't notice anything, but the "suspicious accidents" that people around you experience make you realize what's going on quickly. Ruggie doesn't use his unique spell on you, meaning he doesn't use it to a certain extent, but this doesn't apply to others. I think you can get help from Leona when you start to suspect him.

If you don't put him in normal mode before it's too late, he won't hesitate to use his unique spell on you. Ruggie's only wish is to live a happy life with you, even if that means he has to make you his puppet...

Jack Howl

Looks tough on the outside but is actually quite caring, first-year Savaclaw student Jack Howl. Your love meter increases little by little after you meet Jack. This wolf boy really respects you a lot. After all, it is really respectable that you, who is non-magical and from another universe, can deal with so many things. Your friendship will progress in a short time with the right steps.

In your free time, you usually do sports together, forced by Jack. If you are not used to sports, I wish you luck. It will be quite difficult to keep up with Jack, but don't worry, there will be short breaks and motivational speeches and cheers from Jack that he thinks are motivating in his own way. This wolf boy does most of what you want, even if he doesn't want to show it. Even if he doesn't like it. Do you want to play with his wolf form? Okay, but only for 5 minutes. Do you want to stroke his tail? Okay, but don't take too long. Do you want to go shopping with him? Okay, but don't expect too much comment from him. Because when he asked you what you thought about the last outfit you tried on, he praised you in his own way and the store employees looked at you strangely. Even though Jack supports and praises you in everything, his praise can be a bit strange. Also, when you cheer for him or compliment him, don't be fooled even if he tells you that it’s unnecessary or that you're wrong. His tail shows how much he likes it. Jack may lie to you but his tail never does.

Jack has always respected your boundaries and still does. Even though his inner wolf side has completely different thoughts, he manages to control himself. However, if that dark wolf side of his loses control… oh boy. He changes from a gentlemanly man to a possessive, jealous, restrictive person. He questions everything you do. Why were you talking to that boy? Who is he? This can also lead to fights. If you can't get him to normal mode without his love meter going too high, it will debatable whether you'll get a very happy ending.

[xoxomirrorball]

Daddy's Girl

hawaiian!percy jackson x fem!reader

Aged-up characters, college-age (23-24 ish)

Accidental pregnancy mentions + the things that come with pregnancy/birth, mentions/implications of sex

pt. 2 to Oh Shit, can be read standalone

——————————————————————————————

One thing nobody expected of Percy Jackson, savior of Olympus, was for him to be a picture-perfect girl dad. Everyone had assumed he’d be too rash for a daughter, expecting too much and putting too much pressure on her. But in actuality, it was the complete opposite. 

When you two went in for your first appointment, Percy had almost broken down at the sight of the small figure on the doctor’s monitor. He took the ultrasound photo and framed it, setting it on his dresser.

The appointment where they found the gender out is one of the days Percy would consider the best in his life. When the doctor announced you were having a little girl, he squeezed your hand and said, “I just won that bet with Jason and Piper.”

You sat between Percy’s legs on his dorm room floor. You were balancing your laptop on your ever-growing baby bump, googling baby names.

“I want something Greek but also for Zoë, you know?” you said.

“Yeah, me too. Her middle name could be Hawaiian?” He suggested. you looked up at him and smiled, nodding and kissing him on the cheek.

At your baby shower, the gender was announced to the guests and people wrote letters for her to open once she turns 18. Sally gave you both the biggest hug. What you didn’t know was that she handed Percy her mother's engagement ring, telling him that he had her blessing. Since she knew that your parents would hardly care for blessings or your wedding, Sally figured you would. You were already like her daughter.

When you went into labor a bit after your due date and facing some non life-threatening complications, Percy was by your side. He almost lost his mind when he couldn’t stay by your side for the c-section. Annabeth, Sally, Piper, Reyna, and Jason came running in soon after. They all sat patiently, Sally and Annabeth working on grounding Percy. They knew it’d been tough since Percy went to Tartarus all those years ago, especially since you two hadn’t spent more than 20 minutes apart since you became pregnant.

After a grueling amount of time spent in the waiting room, the doctor finally came out. Everyone looked in his direction at once, Percy standing up and preparing for the worst, just in case.

“Congratulations on a healthy, baby girl,” the doctor exclaimed, “you may go see y/n, but please only three at a time.” Percy sank into his mother's arms in relief before jogging down the hallway to your room. Everyone followed at a much slower pace, allowing you two much-needed bonding time with your baby.

“Hey Angel,” he greeted, entering the room.

There, on the chest of the love of his life, laid a beautiful baby with a head full of dark black hair and the dark, bronzed skin of her parents.  

“She looks just like you,” your sleepy voice said, “she just finished eating, wanna hold her?” 

“Of course I do,” he came closer to your bedside and kissed both of your heads, “but first how are you feeling?”

“M’good, just tired. Take your shirt off, lady says it’s important for skin to skin,” you commanded, eyes closed.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled and took off his shirt, picking up the baby gently.

“Be careful to support her head,” you responded, a lazy arm reaching out and flicking his leg.

“I got her, sleep my love,” he bent down to press a kiss to your cheek, making a point to cradle the baby extra protectively. You nodded before shifting around to get more comfortable. 

Percy marveled at the life laying on his chest. Her head laid on his pec, right where his heart was. Fitting, he thought. Her feet ended near his ribs, it was then he realized how tiny she was. He looked at a note from the nurse’s recordings. 15 inches, 7 pounds and 6 ounces. This itty bitty creature had him to rely on. Him and you. The best parents ever. 

It was obvious just by the way he looked at the baby in his arms, Percy would bring the Earth to its ends for her. He eventually took a seat in one of the chairs, taking a closer look at his baby girl. She was even more beautiful than he expected. He went to brush her cheek and when her tiny hand closed around his finger, he just about burst into tears.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and in came Sally. 

“Y/n’s asleep,” he told her softly, not taking his eyes off of Zandra.

Sally smiled at her son, “what’s her name?”

“Zandra Alamea Jackson, figure we’ll call her Zoe,” Percy replied, finally looking up at his mom. 

“Beautiful. Can I hold her?” you asked, reaching out, 

Percy hesitated before gently picking Zoe off his chest and handing her to his mom. 

“Oh, she’s so much smaller than you were. But she also looks like your carbon copy,” The woman said, smiling at your son and rocking the baby. 

“15 inches, 7 pounds 6 ounces,” he brushed a hand on her arm, marveling at the feeling of this being his child. 

As everyone had come in to hold the newborn, You had woken up just in time for Zandra to need to be fed. Percy stayed while everyone else left to either go home or give you some privacy. It was five in the morning after all, and they’d been there since two in the afternoon the previous day.

“Can you Iris Message Nico? I think it’s only fitting for him to visit his goddaughter now that everyone else is gone,” You asked, finishing up breastfeeding.

“Yeah of course,” Percy pulled some water from the drain and positioned it under the soft glow of the lamp, tossing a drachma into it. “Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show me Nico Di Angelo at Camp Half-Blood,” 

“Percy? What the shit?” Nico muttered groggily, lifting his head from the pillow. 

“Can you shadow travel to me right now?” Percy inquired, hiding a smile. 

“Yeah, why?” the younger boy asked in suspicion.

“I have a surprise for you,” The Son of Poseidon declared. Nico raised an eyebrow before swiping through the message and moments later Nico arrived out of a corner. 

“Woah. What the hell did you do?” Nico asked. 

“I had a c-section. Meet your goddaughter, Zandra Alamea Jackson,” You cut in, waving Nico over to see your,

“She’s beautiful, looks a little too much like Percy though,” he declared, reaching to caress her cheek.

“That’s what everyone’s saying. I am beautiful, why is it such an issue?” Percy grumbled, pouting slightly.

You and Nico just rolled your eyes, used to the dramatics. 

The day you came home, Percy made sure everything was perfect. The house was spotless, laundry and dishes done and put away. Zoe’s room was neater than Annabeth’s bookshelves, the light purple walls complimenting the white furniture. you had a dark gray carpet with another smaller rug on top. It was half the sun and half the moon, a gift from Artemis and Apollo. Inside your crib lay a little dark purple blanket with black ravens and little golden stars, one side silk, the other wool. Another gift, this one from Sally. It was accompanied by a little blue stuffed shark, probably still double Zoe’s size. 

The room was full of toys, walls decorated with framed pictures of friends and family. Coming into Sally Jackson’s apartment and seeing it clean was never a surprise, but it being clean at the hands of Percy was new. He had prepped the whole house the day before his girls were allowed to come home. 

Zandra had settled into your new home quickly, thankfully sleeping mostly through the night. Percy handled it most of the time, he was a night owl anyways and adored spending time with his daughter. You felt like the luckiest woman in the world.Uyou had the perfect daughter and the perfect father to your daughter. You were truly content. One night when Percy had gotten up to change Zandra’s diaper, he brought her into your room, laying her on his chest with an arm around her and one over you, well it was a night you could say you slept the most content you had since being a child. 

Percy was your safe place and he always would be. You knew that if you were to jump into the River Styx in an attempt to gain the curse of Achilles your mortal spot would be the same, just below your left collar bone, though your anchor would now be Percy and Zandra when it used to be the family you remembered from before you discovered your true parentage.

When Zandra turned one month old, a large celebration was held at camp half-blood. Everyone was obsessed and cooed over this beautiful and powerful little girl, who looked just like her father but with your mother’s attitude, that much you could tell at such a young age.

Percy loved your eyes, he sometimes wished your daughter got them. Though the sea-green like his, swirling with dark power like her mother's would suffice perfectly. Nothing could change either of your opinions. Your daughter was perfect in every way, she deserved the world and so much more. 

Returning home from your midterm exam, you had noticed that Sally and Percy Jackson’s apartment had become covered in baby pictures in the short four months she had been alive. There was one of Zandra in a little yellow onesie, one of her in blue, a jean jacket, a picture of you and Zandra sitting on the couch, and so many more. You felt yourself tear up, making your way to the nursery. you heard voices and stopped to eavesdrop outside of Sally’s room. 

“Just ask her tonight!” the exasperated voice of the older woman came through the wall.

“It should be special,” Percy protested.

“You are special to her! Y/n won’t care where you do it, Percy.”

He hesitated, “Okay. Yeah, tonight.”

You hurried into the nursery, kissing the sleeping baby on the head before turning back to head into your and Percy’s room, pretending you didn’t hear that conversation.

you walked in and saw Percy with his back turned to you, talking to himself quietly. 

“Perce?” you asked, coming up behind him.

“Angel,” he smiled, kissing you softly, “I actually have to ask you something.”

“What’s up?” you inquired, smiling back.

He blew out a breath, getting on one knee and pulling his grandmother's ring from his pocket. 

Your eyes widened, filling with tears and you quickly covered your mouth to smother an escaped sob.

“I wanted to do this somewhere more special, maybe our spot at camp, but mom insisted it’s special enough just to have you with me. You, Y/n L/n, I love you more than anything in the universe, except maybe Zoe, so will you do me the greatest honor and marry me?” He questioned, looking up at you with his goofy lopsided smile.

“Yes! Of course!” you shrieked, allowing him to put the ring on your hand, right next to the ring concealing your dagger. 

“I told you so! I'm taking Zoe with me to the store!” Sally’s voice called, followed by the front door closing.

Some could say that was the night baby number two was conceived, but the only ones who could confirm that are Percy and you, and that was an answer no one would be getting. 

[ssaalexblake]

jodie ‘method acting’ whittaker growing another heart to play the role of a two hearted alien is what puts her at no.1 in the doctor actor competition and that’s that. 

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[enderlovez]

It's Romantic

Spencer Reid x Female Reader WORD COUNT: 980

Summary: When Spencer learns that his girlfriend is also an avid reader after visiting her apartment for the first time, something she's kept from him for reasons unclear, he is ecstatic. And a little concerned, when he reads one of your 'romance' books.

Content Warning: reader gets embarrassed, your book has a sex scene in it, reader bites Spencer once, possibly shy!reader?

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer has never once been to your apartment. You're spend most of your time at his place, occasionally spending the night with him when you feel like it, and he loves having you there with him... But quite frankly, he's curious to see the place you spent most of your nights.

How you've decorated, how you've make it comfortable for you. Yet every time it comes up, the topic of, at some point, going over to your apartment, you change the subject, or insist on going to his.

'Why would we go to my dirty old apartment when we can just go to yours?' you'd asked on multiple occasions.

He doesn't understand what could be so terrible about the place you live, so disgusting that you wouldn't want him to see it?

Well, tonight, he wants to find out.

"Why don't we go to your apartment?" he asks quietly, swinging your linked hand between the both of you as you walk down the street.

You side-eye him, opening your mouth to give him the usual spiel, but he beats you to it, pulling you to a stop and pressing a finger to your mouth.

"Come on, Y/N, we've been dating for almost a year and I still haven't seen where you live!" he states matter-of-factly.

"Why do you need to see my apartment?" you ask, a defensive tone lingering in your words, your voice rising a few octaves. He doesn't need to be a profiler to realize you're nervous.

He sighs lovingly and wraps and arm around your shoulder, guiding you down the sidewalk once again. "Because I love you, and I'm curious to know where you disappear to when you leave me every night."

"I don't leave you every night, though."

"Okay, almost every night, then," he corrects himself. "Whatever you're worried about, trust me when I say there's no reasons to be."

You know he would never judge you for anything, right? Especially not when you're so wound up about this whole thing.

He peeks down at you again, using his free thumb to gently pull your bottom lip from between your teeth.

"Look, if you're really set on me never seeing your apartment, that's fine, I'll never see it," he breathes, not wanting to cause you actual stress about it. "I didn't mean to upset you, just wanted to know more about you."

"No," you snap back immediately, hesitation swimming around your eyes as you reach up and take his hand in yours again, "you didn't upset me at all, Spence. You... you can come see my apartment."

"Sweetheart, if you don't want me to—"

"I do want you to," you cut him off, pressing a kiss to the side of his hand. "I want you to see it. Please, come see my apartment, Spence."

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Your apartment is lovely.

Fairy lights and posters decorating the walls, all the furniture worn and cozy, and it smells so distinctly you. It's exactly what he would expect for you, actually, something just as sweet and cozy as you are.

The only thing he didn't expect was the tall wooden bookshelf in your living room, filled with books, none of which he's read. You don't have it organized in any particular order — actually, you don't have them organized at all.

"I didn't know you liked to read," he commented softly, plucking one of your novels from the shelf and flipping it over to read the back. How could he be romantically involved with you for almost a year, and not know something so simple about your day to day life?

You don't say anything, blushing from head to toe as he picks up another one of your books. He looks back at you when he finds the one he gifted you a few months back.

He never actually thought you would read it, simply wanting you to have something in your apartment that reminded you of him, so he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was worn — more than any of the other books.

Spencer doesn't need to know you started reading it the night he gifted it to you, or that you spent every free second away from him reading it, or that you've already read it two times at this point.

It's obviously not something you would usually read, but it's from Spencer, so it's different. You loved every second of it because of him.

He puts the books he's holding down and grabs another random one from the shelf, settling into your pastel-rainbow-blanket-covered sofa, and flipping open to a random page...

Only to see that the two main characters of this particular book are having sex. Very descriptive sex, he might add, red coloring his face as he gently closes the book again and slowly turns his eyes to you.

Your face is a similar shade of crimson, knowing exactly what he's just opened the book up to find, as you snatch it away from him and put it back onto the shelf.

"Is this why you didn't want me coming here?" he asks, somehow managing to keep his voice steady — for your sake, since you're clearly embarrassed about the situation.

You drop down onto the sofa beside him, pressing your face into the soft bend between his shoulder and his neck, and just barely nod.

"You know I'd never judge you for anything, Lovely," he assures you, turning his head to press a kiss to the top of your head, "but that might just be the most vulgar thing I've ever read."

"It's romantic," you argue without moving your face away from his neck, gently biting down on the skin there as if to reprimand him.

"Alright," he agrees with you, too easily for your liking, but you don't say anything more, "if you say it's romantic, then it has to be."

[teapartyprincess4two]

On Stream- M. Sturniolo

pairing: gf!reader x bf!Matt

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, short, slight cursing, some suggestive comments

summary: Matt mentions you on stream, causing the chat to go crazy.

—

Nowadays it seems that Matt and Chris have an abnormal amount of free time.

The pair have spent the past few days running errands, catching up on chores, spending quality time together, and unwinding. But two energetic young men can only do so much relaxing before it becomes unbearably boring, especially without you and Nick around.

Nick’s somewhere across the globe, relishing in the perks of having good friends. He’s experiencing the world with a sense of individuality, having been apart from his triplet brothers for over a week.

Without Nick around the house is quiet and boring enough, but Chris and Matt can usually count on you to keep them company. But it seems that they see you less and less every day.

You aren’t somewhere far away, not physically at least, you’re just very, very busy. As you enter the fall semester, you’re juggling a multitude of responsibilities including school, work, your social life, and your relationship. But as you adjust to your crazy hectic schedule, you spend less time at home with Matt and more time nose deep in a book.

So, just as the brothers grow accustomed to the eerie silence that haunts the halls of their home and the boredom that settles into their everyday lives, they decide enough is enough and take up a new hobby. Streaming.

Today, as Matt anchors himself in his rolling chair, his eyes skim through the endless chats that flood his screen. Chris sits next to him, a vibrant and excited smile adorning his features.

This is their third consecutive day going live on Twitch. At first they went live to entertain and chat with their fans, but now they’re doing it to occupy their bored minds.

Chris’s eyes skim the chat, fixating on one message in particular. He subconsciously reads it aloud, “Is Y/n on tour with Nick? We miss her.”

After reading the comment, the chat was flooded with similar messages asking for you. Matt slumps into his chair, the mention of your name reminding him that it’s been a week since he’s seen you.

“Nah, she’s just busy with school right now,” Chris replies mindlessly, skimming for another comment to read.

A lot of the viewers noticed Matt’s mood shift. They noticed the way his eyes drooped and the way the corners of his mouth turned into a frown. They especially noticed the disassociated look he wore, mind traveling to a place only you could bring him out of.

“Matt,” Chris says, waving a hand in front of his brother’s face. No response. “Matt!” He tries again, louder this time. Matt still doesn’t respond, only coming back into reality when Chris violently shakes his shoulders.

“What, dude? What?!” Matt asks, annoyance evident in his tone.

“Your phone’s ringing.” Chris replies with an eye roll and a small scoff.

Suddenly the blaring ring registers in Matt’s mind as he pats his pockets in search of his phone. When he finally finds it, your name illuminated the screen.

“Who’s calling?” Chris asks, stretching out his neck in hopes of catching a nosy glimpse at the caller ID.

“Umm be right back chat. Y/n’s calling,” Matt says, words spewing out a mile a minute. He disappears from the room faster than ever, immediately pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is music to Matt’s ears. It feels like forever since he’s last heard it.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “everything okay?”

You hum in response, followed by a soft yawn.

“You sound tired. When are you coming home?” Matt asks, softly leaning against the wall. You’ve been at school all day stuck in lectures and studying, so Matt knows you need some well deserved rest.

“I’m on my way now. That’s why I called, wanted to see if you guys were hungry so I could pick up something to eat.”

The excitement that courses through Matt’s veins is unreal, winding him up with enough energy to last until tomorrow. He can’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you, and make up for all the lost time.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he replies, pausing for a second to compose himself, “I just wanna see you.”

A warm smile graces your features and if Matt could see it he’d mirror your expression.

“I’ll be home soon don’t worry. How’s the stream going?”

“Huh?” For a second Matt forgot that he and his brother were live streaming for thousands of people.

“The stream. Aren’t you live with Chris right now?”

“Ohhh. It’s going… it’s going good.” Matt replies with a soft sigh.

Your smile is momentarily replaced with a frown. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going good. What’s wrong?”

Matt’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose before gliding across his eyelids and massaging the tense nerves and muscles on his face. “It’s going fine. I just can’t focus. The chat keeps asking about you and it’s honestly making me really sad.”

A small chuckle escapes your lips. “Aww my poor baby. Can’t focus on Fortnite?”

“Not Fortnite.”

“Oops, sorry. Fall Guys?

“Y/n.” Matt warns, though he finds it slightly funny too.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. I’ll be home soon with some good food and open arms. We can cuddle and watch a movie, or do anything else you wanna do. Okay?”

Matt feels his spirit lighten up again, a cheeky smirk forming on his face. “Anything?”

“Don’t push it,” you laugh.

Just as Matt’s about to respond, he’s cut short by Chris calling his name from inside the room.

“Get back to your stream. I’ll be home soon, handsome.”

Matt’s lips form a silly pout you can’t even see as he replies, “But I wanna keep talking to you. Miss you so much.”

“MATT!” Chris calls again, this time much louder than the last.

“We’ll talk all you want when I get home. Now go! I have the stream pulled up on my computer and I think Chris is gonna start twerking,” you say, trying your best not to laugh.

“Holy fuck this kid,” Matt groans, face palming. “Alright baby, I love you. Drive safe.”

“I love you too,” you say through small giggles before hanging up.

When Matt renters the room, he’s not surprised to find Chris dancing for the camera. He pushes past him and settles back into his rolling chair wearing a huge, toothy smile.

“What did Y/n want?” Chris asks, briefly glancing at Matt as he switches from doing the griddy to shuffling across the room.

“Just asked if we were hungry,” Matt shrugs, attempting to act nonchalant, but there’s no hiding the newfound pep in his step.

“And it took you that long?”

“I was catching up with my girl. —Why the fuck are you still dancing?”

“Someone gifted,” Chris says, slightly breathless as he bops from corner to corner.

“Alright…” Matt shifts towards the computer, “What did I miss?”

He reads comments, expecting most of them to be about Chris and his absurd dancing skills, but he’s surprised to find that they’re all about you.

Some fans ask where you are, others ask what you’re doing, some speculate on the conversation you and Matt had, and others simply comment on how much happier Matt seems since talking to you.

All Matt can do is smile and patiently wait for you to arrive, ready to bombard you with kisses as soon as you step through the door.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: hi babies! Hope you enjoy this short oneshot! I know I haven’t updated or posted much in a longggg time but I honestly had writers block :P I’m trying to get into the habit of writing again, so bear with me pls. I have a lotttt of drafts (some that just need to be edited) so be expecting that soon! Luv you all 😚

- L.A.M.B🪽💝

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @rxeae @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow @sturnstvr @inkyray-deactivated20240729 @stasiesturn @poopiepantsworld @cvnt4matty @eleanore2204 @jhutchismyl0verb0y

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[ithebookhoarder]

Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field. 

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together. 

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over. 

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary. 

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?” 

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?” 

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes. 

David Rossi 

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover. 

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.” 

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either. 

One, because he’s kind of flattered. 

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves. 

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you. 

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” 

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks. 

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you. 

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss. 

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it. 

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss. 

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms. 

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.” 

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.” 

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple. 

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you. 

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck. 

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision. 

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.” 

With that, she’d be off. 

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself. 

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.” 

JJ

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so. 

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in. 

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control. 

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.  

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.” 

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house. 

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights. 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“ 

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.” 

“I - ok.” 

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed. 

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.” 

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.” 

Penelope Garcia 

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.  

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it. 

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”  

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.  

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together. 

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally. 

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body. 

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear. 

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.” 

Masterlist

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ take a seat ] q. hughes

day 3 of kinktober (face sitting w/ quinn hughes)

paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary: Quinn grows a playoff beard and his girlfriend loves it. the day he decides to shave it after the Canucks get eliminated, she tells him how she really feels about it and Quinn gives her the moment she’s been wanting since he started growing it before he shaves it

warning(s) : smut ! face sitting / riding, oral (f receiving), fingering

author’s note : been waiting to write this one hehe. it’s on the shorter side but i hope y'all enjoy anyway

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

The playoffs have treated her and Quinn so well. Quinn because he got to captain the Canucks to the second round after a short 3 year playoff drought. Her because Quinn grew a playoff beard over the past month or so and she's barely managed to keep her hands off of him while he was playing.

She loves everything about the playoffs, but especially the fact that Quinn hasn’t shaved in a few weeks. He looks so good with longer facial hair and she loves the way it tickles her lip when he kisses her. She kinda just wants him to go down on her for as long as possible to feel it against her core.

The thought of Quinn eating her out with the beard is enough to soak her. The feeling of his beard on her core is something she thinks about an unhealthy number of times over the course of three weeks. She’s gotten off multiple times just at the thought alone, especially when he's away playing in Nashville and Edmonton. She’s wouldn’t know what to do if it happened.

But the Canucks were eliminated by Edmonton last night so it’s time for Quinn to shave off the beard he has spent the past few weeks growing. He doesn't do it the day after their season ends because he wants to just lay around and have the laziest day ever, so she gets an extra day to admire him.

The morning of the day Quinn wants to shave his beard though, she wakes up before he does. He stopped setting alarms once the Canucks got eliminated two nights ago but she is naturally an early riser. She doesn't dare move because part of Quinn's morning routine is shaving. If she moves and wakes him up, he's going to go shave and that's the last thing she wants right now.

She softly sighs as morning Vancouver sun creates a muted orange glow throughout the room. Quinn already looks so good and he's not even awake yet.

All because of that stupid beard he grew.

Quinn begins to stir moments after she wakes. His eyes flutter open and look bright in the morning sunlight.

"It's creepy to stare at people while they sleep, baby," he tells her, his voice slurred since he just woke up. Also kind of raspy, which she loves.

"Not my fault you look pretty all the time," she replies. "I also just woke up a few minutes ago so give me a break. I wanted to admire my boyfriend before he woke up and started making comments that ruined the whole vibe."

He groans and rubs his face. He touches his facial hair and hums. "I gotta go get rid of this mess," he says. "Then you can admire me all you want, okay?"

Her eyes widen and Quinn begins to move to get out of bed. She quickly grabs his arm to stop him from getting any further.

"I like that mess," she finally admits to him. He turns back around and looks at her. She begins to talk before her brain can catch up to what she's saying. "I mean, you look really hot with that mess on your face. Except, I don't think it's a mess. I wish you wouldn't run off and shave it first chance you get."

Quinn blinks at her slowly like he's processing what she said to him. A smile grows on his lips and she presses her lips into a line.

"Come here," Quinn tells her as he lays back down. She blinks at him, confused. "I know you've thought about it. I've seen the way that you would look at me then excuse yourself to go use the bathroom." She feels her face get hot in embarrassment. She thought she was more subtle than she actually was.

She plays with her fingers while she watches Quinn get comfortable. "Quinn, I-"

"Come take a seat, pretty girl," he interrupts as he runs his fingers over his beard. "Sit on and ride my face. I know you want to so I am giving you what you want before I go shave."

Who is she to say no to him? He's offering so she might as well take it.

Without anymore hesitation, she moves so she's kneeling above his face with her knees on the pillow on either side of his head. Lucky for her, she's only wearing one of Quinn's Canucks t-shirts and a pair of underwear. Nothing else.

Quinn kisses the inside of her thigh right by her core while he pushes the fabric of the t-shirt up. She hums softly as her body finally begins to wake up. She feels the gentle scratch of his facial hair on her skin and she gnaws on her bottom lip. "Oh my God," she sighs.

"I haven't even done anything yet," Quinn laughs.

"Shut up and do something then," she retorts. "Please, Quinn." She's not above begging at this point.

He licks a stripe over her panties, which are soaked by now. Like she said, the thought alone makes her drip. His finger follows his tongue and she hums. Quinn pushes the fabric to the side and runs a finger through her soaked folds. She bites down on her bottom lip to keep from making any loud noises since it is morning and their neighbors are probably still sleeping.

She grabs onto the headboard above Quinn's head as he runs his tongue through her folds. "Fuck, Quinn!" She cries out. "Oh my God."

The feeling of the gentle scratch of his facial hair is almost too much for her. Quinn wraps his lips around her clit and hums, sending a shock through her body. It almost jumpstarts her own movements as she begins to roll her hips.

"That's it, baby," Quinn says against her core. "Take what you want."

His hands rest on her waist and he pulls her down so she's completely sitting on his face but he's still able to breathe. His tongue continues to run through her folds as she rolls her hips. Her core grinds across his face and she feels the scratch of his facial hair with each movement. She welcomes the new feeling. It only adds to her pleasure despite the beard burn she'll probably have when all this is over.

Quinn hums every so often, and she groans with every hum. Her grip on the headboard gets stronger the longer she moves. She's almost afraid that she'll lose her balance despite his hands keeping her from falling.

One of his hands slides up under the loose t-shirt and cups her breast. She throws her head back and lets out a borderline pornographic moan as she continues to ride Quinn's face. One of her hands flies to Quinn's messy hair, fingers finding a home.

He slides his other hand so his thumb can access her clit. He rubs the sensitive nub while continuing to run his tongue though her folds with each movement. "Oh my fucking- Quinn," she cries out. "Holy-"

"Look so pretty riding my face, pretty girl," Quinn mumbles. His words shoot straight to her core. "Fuck."

His thumb moves and slides into her. She gasps and her movement falters for a second while she recovers from the addition. "Quinn," she groans, holding the 'N' sound.

Between his tongue, his thumb, and his facial hair, she's not sure how she hasn't come all over his face by now. Her legs are shaking so she has to stop moving, but Quinn completely takes over despite being under her.

He speeds up his thumb for a second before switching fingers, using his pointer and middle fingers instead. She welcomes the familiar stretch.

His fingers and tongue are enough to bring her to the edge. She's white-knuckling the headboard with one hand while her other hand remains in Quinn's hair.

"Gonna come," she pants. "Quinn. I'm close."

"Told you to take what you want," Quinn replies. "So take what you want."

Quinn speeds up his fingers and curls them in a 'come here' motion. The gentle scratch of his facial hair turns less gentle as he speeds up his tongue movements, but she still loves it.

She throws her head back and cries out his name as she comes. She involuntarily rolls her own hips so her core grinds against his face again. Her fingers curl in his locks so she has something to hold on to as she reaches her climax. She loses her vision for half a second because of how hard her orgasm hits her.

Her body turns to jelly as she recovers. With Quinn's help, she's able to lie back down beside him. Her breathing is labored and she stares up at the ceiling, unable to move to look at her boyfriend.

All this morning showed her is that Quinn needs to grow out his facial hair more often because it made her come harder than she ever has before. She can't move for about ten minutes after her orgasm.

When she's fully conscious again, she looks over at Quinn. He didn't go and shave yet.

"I think I'm going to keep this for another day or two," he tells her. "Just for you. That is going to happen a few more times before it goes away."

She smiles and rolls so she can touch his face. "I'm going to need you to grow it out like this again soon because holy shit, Quinn," she giggles. "So hot. Felt so good."

Quinn matches her smile. "Maybe over the summer," he tells her. "No promises though."

"Gonna need my favorite seat back at some point."

"Next year when we make playoffs against for sure."

༺──────────────༻

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[luveline]

i just discovered bombshell reader but omfg she got hit in the face with a sledgehammer??? how does the healing process go for her? especially since she’s very focused on her looks. how would she cope?

thank you for requesting <3 fem

Your new scars are… an adjustment. 

The worst one is where the hammer hit you. Where your jaw shattered, and the impact of the hammerhead split your skin. You don’t remember the pain, just the nausea, and the blackness as your consciousness slipped away, and now you have a permanent reminder stretched from the corner of your mouth to your jaw. 

You turn your chin up in the mirror, looking. When you smile the scar puckers, rigid and starkly purple against your skin.  

You can hear Spencer in your kitchen. He’s singing. You haven’t heard him sing many times, despite all your days and nights spent together. Your smile is out of your hands, you don’t really think about it, and so for the first time in weeks you see your own happiness in the mirror. 

You didn’t have your jaw wired for as long as most people, just three weeks. At first you’d decided against it, and then you’d realised it wasn’t really an option. That entire time, Spencer stood by your side like he’d been glued there supporting every decision with vigour. And considering he hadn’t been your boyfriend for very long —your best friend, arguably, but not officially your partner— he’s done more than you ever expected of him. He’s been perfect. 

He continues to be everything you need. “Hey, Y/N! Are you eating breakfast today or not?” 

You give yourself a last look in the mirror, cringe at your scars, and check your newly repaired teeth. They look fine, Spencer swears that he can’t tell the difference. 

You can. 

You leave your room for the kitchen. There are twin plates of breakfast waiting and steaming hot on the kitchen table, with a glass of juice and a second of water waiting beside them. Spencer’s coffee sits half empty beside the cutlery. 

“I love breakfast. What are we having, Spencer Reid, egg and sausage muffins again?” 

He appears from your little pantry with a big smile. “No, it’s bacon and egg. But I can make something else.”

“That’s perfect, it’s perfect.” 

Spencer puts a package of rice crackers down on the table. “Let me get the hazelnut spread. Sit down.” 

“It’s fine, we can have them after. You need to eat before it goes cold, Spence.” You open your hand for him. “Please?”

Spencer takes your hand, but only for you to sit. He stays standing at your legs, looking down at you, all brown curls and eyes as his hand runs up your arm to your shoulder, where it stays. 

The other follows a similar path, but then he holds your face, and you feel your breath catch. 

Forward, for Spencer. 

Suddenly, he’s the confident one. 

“You were in there for a long time,” he says. 

“Just making sure I look alright.” 

“You do. You look more than alright.” His thumb presses into your cheek, forcing a hollow. 

You lean into it. 

“You’re beautiful. Nothing can change that.” 

You need the comfort, and you know you’ve had enough. He keeps telling you how pretty you are, and you are, but he must be getting sick of it. 

…But no. He’s not getting tired of it. 

“Love you,” you whisper. 

He’s only had a couple of those from you. Many more since your injury, not because you didn’t love him, but because it can be synonymous with so many things, like please, and thank you, and please stay. Lately, you’ve had to ask him for more than you’ve ever asked before. 

“I love you, too,” he says, with that pout that tells you his cheeks will be pink before he’s so much as sat down. 

He rubs your cheek. Over and over, little circles as your eyes close. You’re tired again. His hands smell like toast and butter. 

“It’s really not as bad as you think it is. Nobody at work will think anything less of you.” 

“Of course they will. I used to be perfect.” 

“Hey. That’s not fair, to you or anyone. A scar doesn’t have the power to– to make you less perfect,” —you peel your eyes open at his intensity— “you couldn’t be any less pretty. It’s not possible.” 

“I know it’s ugly, Spencer.” 

“You keep saying that, but it’s not.” He raises his second hand to your cheek, the one with the scar, careful though it stopped feeling tender to the touch weeks ago. The pad of his thumb follows the line. 

You raise your chin, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “Sorry,” you say against his lips. 

He smiles in turn. “It’s okay. I can keep telling you.” 

“Can you tell me again?” 

Spencer kisses you again. His way of kissing has been toned down now, and sometimes you miss feeling like he was gonna press you against a wall, but it was necessary. Even now you feel a phantom twinge as his nose smushes yours. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, pulling back now, just one hand at your neck. “You are. You’re so pretty it gives me palpitations.” 

“That can’t be good.” 

“I think it’s really bad.” He laughs like an idiot. “I just don’t care. I’ve had you-provoked tachycardia for years. Nothing’s gonna change that now.” 

—

bombshell au

[missnxthingg]

Gal I need lando fluff as well could u do taking care of him when he’s sick and he’s all tired and clingy

needy | LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x Female!Reader summary: After a busy month, all Lando needs is his girlfriend to take care of him words: 1 K - warnings: Sick Lando and lots of cuteness (also not proof read, sorry) author’s notes:  I'm so sorry for the delay, it was a busy & unplanned week at work. But here we are, just in time to celebrate our favourite boy's birthday

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Triple headers always hit quite hard on Lando. Since he joined Formula 1, he doesn't remember a single time he didn't end up sick after almost a month travelling around the world. And this time it wasn't different; he started having a fever the morning after he arrived from Brazil and stayed in bed all day.

Y/N found it odd to not find him in his usual state of relaxation after a full month of work: locked inside his dark gaming room, full of snacks and laughing with Max. Instead, he was wrapped around three blankets in their living room, body almost lifeless on the sofa as he watched a boring movie on TV.

“Oh, baby boy, are you feeling okay?”, she asked, putting her things down so she could check on him.

Lando smiled tired at her and shrugged, too tired to even say something. She knew he was getting sick, especially after he spent the entire flight home – and their night of sleep – coughing. She just didn’t expect for it to be that bad, to the point where the most chatty boy in the world would go speechless.

“Have you eaten?”, she ran her hands through his face and he nodded tiredly. Then she found the empty yogurt cup beside him and rolled her eyes. “A yogurt isn't eating, Lando”.

“Come cuddle, baby”, he mumbled, wrapping one of his hands around her wrist.

“I'm worried about you, my love”, she ran her hands through his curls, making him open a tired smile. “I swear to God, every triple header is the same. I won't let you go anymore”.

“It's just a way my body found of telling I'm tired”, he assured. “If you come cuddle, then I'll be fine”.

“Later, baby. I have to make lunch for us”, she pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando whined loudly. “Stop being a baby!”

“You're evil”.

Y/N started taking things out of the fridge to start cooking their lunch, and Lando suddenly appeared behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist from behind and resting his head on the crook of her neck. She smiled at the gesture and cuddled into his touch as she cut some onions.

“Ouches my eyes”, he cried, making her giggle just before she stopped cutting the onions, to put it in the hot pan. “What are you doing?”

“Caramelized onion and creamy cheese pasta”, she revealed, making him open a big smile. “A favourite for my sick boy”.

“You're the best, baby. I love you so much”, he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, but didn't let go off her, choosing to stay glued to her side as she cooked.

“Lan, it's a bit hard to cook with you clinging onto me”, she chuckled. “Maybe sit right there and keep me company. Then I'll give you as many cuddles as you want”.

“Mmm, okay”, he smiled tiredly, finding a spot to sit close to her, as he observed her cooking. Travelling the world is nice, but he loved coming home to the love of his life, who always took the best care of him.

Suddenly, he was taken back to the early dates of their relationship, when she’d invite him over for dinner and cook him the easiest pasta that, in time, became his comfort food. That’s exactly what he needed after a long month away from home, and away from her, since she only came to the first race in Austin. His heart felt at ease when she served him a plate and found a spot next to him.

“Thank you”, he mumbled before attacking the food. “It’s so good to be home. It’s so good to be with you”.

“I was counting the seconds until you were back to me”, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and cuddled to his side as they ate in silence, just feeling each other’s presence. He learned to appreciate silence after loud days as he rested next to his favourite girl. “Are you feeling better?”

“My throat is sore, and it feels like I was hit by a truck”, he joked. “The headache is gone, though”.

“I’ll use my super healing powers to make you feel better”, she sprinkled kisses through his face, making him open a genuine smile for the first time that day. But just before she kissed him on the lips, he backed away.

“You’ll get sick, baby”.

“It will be worth it, then”, she declared, before sealing their lips into a sweet kiss. Lando had missed those lips more than anything, and if she was willing to take the risk of getting sick, then he’s not arguing about it. “I love you, my sweet boy”.

“I love you too, beautiful”, he pecked her lips once again and took a second to analyse her face from up close; the face he adored so much. “Now, can we please cuddle?”

“Yes, my whiny baby, we can”.

Lando wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her to the couch, but felt too weak to do so. Y/N almost had to do this to him to get him to stand up and walk. He collapsed onto their couch and was too tired to open his arms to invite his girlfriend to join. She still found her spot next to him and pulled him closer, until they were tangled together between the blankets.

She pressed soft kisses all over his face and watched his lips tiredly curve into a smile, just as he felt a little better to have her taking care of him. They didn't even notice they forgot to turn on the TV.

“I'm so glad you're finally home”, she whispered. “This place is too quiet without you. I don't like it”.

“I'm happy to be back with my home”, he pressed his fingers to her skin and she smiled at him. “You're the best. I missed you so much that I might as well take you with me next time”.

“Anything so we can be together”, she said. “Sleep, baby, I'll be here holding you”.

“I love you so much. You're my everything, the love of my life, the sweetest…”, he continued to list various things about her and fell asleep mid-sentence.

“I love you more, Lan”, she pressed one last kiss on his forehead before falling asleep too.

�� add yourself to the taglist!

[maximoffsgirl]

Peace in Chaos

summary: You can’t say no to the twins; Wanda, can’t say no to you. It’s a dynamic that often works in their favor—especially when they desperately want something. The twins know that, if all else fails, they can rely on you to soften Wanda’s resolve, even if they trick you along the way.

warnings: Established relationship, Wanda and Reader are married. Domestic Life. The twins are close to 7/8 years old. Wanda is referred as mama/mom, Y/N is referred as mommy. Otherwise, I think there's none, this is pure fluff

author's note: English isn't my first language :) and to the anon who requested this, I hope this is what you were thinking about❤️

word count: 3.311

not proofread!

When Wanda first joined the Avengers, she spent much of her time locked away inside the room they designated as hers, finding solace in the company of old books she had never had the chance to read before. Among those books, she stumbled upon a collection of poetry and came across a single phrase, quoted by Emily Dickinson; a phrase which was still written at the beginning of the diary Clint had gifted her for Christmas when the Avengers Tower became her home: "The heart wants what it wants, or else it does not care."

At first, Wanda found the phrase peculiar. How could her heart, which had never known a single day of peace, possibly want anything? Yet, as time passed, she began to understand. It was precisely because her heart had endured so much chaos that it longed for something different.

Stability was a foreign concept to Wanda. Her life had always been beyond her control, and when her powers came into the picture, they only added to the turmoil. But the constant inconsistency made Wanda’s heart want one thing more than anything in the whole world. A family.

She yearned for a family like the one she once had. A family she could come home to at the end of the day, where she could sink into the couch with the weight of the week pressing down on her shoulders - an uncomfortable ache, yet in a place where she felt comfortable. An environment where a television program no one was really watching played softly in the background while someone shared the details of their day. Wanda’s heart craved for care and tenderness, something solid yet gentle—a sanctuary that felt soft, safe, and unshakably real.

After the life she had lived—always running, fighting, and losing—it felt almost unbelievable that Wanda now had everything she had ever wanted cradled in her arms. Hard to believe, I know. But with your head resting against her chest, your body nestled between her legs as you scrolled through your phone, Wanda was certain that she needed nothing more. She closed her eyes  briefly, letting herself savor the peace, the warmth, and the steady rhythm of your breathing.

The sounds from your phone mingled with the lively chatter drifting down from upstairs, where the twins were deeply immersed in a passionate debate about something. It was chaos. But it was her chaos. A chaos that she chose and was looking forward to every single day live in. 

“Hm? What are you doing?” Wanda asked, her arms tightening around you as you started to move. Her voice was soft but carried a hint of reluctance. She tilted her head a little to the side, wanting to know what you were planning. 

You turned to face her, a small smile on your lips. “We forgot to put the plates in the dishwasher,” you replied casually, as if that alone was enough reason to leave Wanda's embrace. To your wife, it definitely wasn't.

Wanda let out a low, drawn-out groan, clearly unenthusiastic about you leaving the comfort of her body pressed against yours. She held you a little tighter, silently protesting your attempt to get up.

“Don’t you need to finish your mission report?” you teased gently, raising an eyebrow at her reaction. Your words made her sigh in mild defeat. She had mentioned earlier that she needed to wrap up her mission report after dinner. It wasn’t a task she enjoyed—especially when it meant sacrificing time with you—but it was something she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she hated it.

“I do,” she complained, her tone carrying a mix of annoyance and reluctance. Her thumb gently brushed against your cheek. It was obvious she didn’t want to move, but the mission report wasn’t going to complete itself.

Before either of you could say more, a sudden, loud noise from upstairs interrupted the moment. Both your heads turned toward the ceiling in unison. Wanda frowned, her brows knitting together as she stared at the source of the commotion.

“What are they doing up there?” she muttered, her voice tinged with both curiosity and a hint of irritation.

“Probably destroying your things,” you joke, smirking at her. Wanda didn’t share your amusement; instead, she shot you a stern look, her concern evident. That only made you chuckle softly.

“Relax, baby” you murmured, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips, your way of soothing her. With a lazy stretch, you slipped out of her warm embrace, earning a soft groan of protest as you stood. “I’ll get the dishes,” you said with a playful shrug, heading toward the kitchen while Wanda remained on the couch. 

She reached out for you, calling your name with a playful pout on her lips, as if trying to coax you back into her arms. But all she got in response was a teasing kiss blown in the air, followed by a few more chuckles from you. "You're impossible," Wanda muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched, hinting at a smile she couldn’t quite suppress

A few minutes later, Wanda mirrored your actions with a resigned sigh. With a stretch and a yawn, she slowly pushed herself off the couch, kissing your shoulder once she moved past the kitchen to her home office. She opened the door with another huff, the thought of that mission report weighed heavily on her, already draining her energy before she even began.

As peaceful as the silence was, it didn’t last longer than fifteen minutes—a brief reprieve, but in a house with twins, it felt like a blessing. The twins knew better than to disturb Wanda when her office door was closed, understanding the importance of letting her work in peace. However, today was different. They had something important to ask her, and they were certain that mama wouldn’t mind being interrupted if it was truly important.

Wanda, ever attuned to the sounds around her, heard the soft footsteps and hushed whispers before the three gentle knocks echoed on her office door. She glanced down at the mission report in front of her, then dropped her pen onto the pile of papers near the notebook, her attention fully shifting to the interruption. 

“Yes?” she called out, her voice loud enough to reach her sons, signaling they had permission to enter.

The door creaked open slightly, and two sets of curious eyes peeked through the gap. First, Tommy, with his usual impatience, then Billy, who always seemed a bit more cautious. Their wide eyes and raised eyebrows said it all—they had something to ask. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them, her stern demeanor softening instantly. She gestured for them to come in, her smile softening as she watched them shuffle inside, their little hands fidgeting with each other in anticipation.

“Is everything alright?” Wanda asked, her voice filled with the kind of tenderness that only a mother could provide.

The twins, true to their age, began poking and nudging each other, whispering in hushed tones while they stood in front of their mother - who was looking at them with amusement as they continued to argue who would be the one to initiate the conversation. 

“Mom, we have something super important to ask. But… promise you’re going to listen first” Billy tried to negotiate, his little feet shuffled nervously as he spoke. Tommy, by his side, nodded his head in support, his wide-eyed expression practically daring Wanda to disagree.

Wanda arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched her boys’ antics. Leaning back in her chair, she murmured a soft, “Okay…” her tone amused yet curious, ready to hear what the twins were planning. 

“So.. we saw something on the internet..”

That wasn’t entirely true. Long before the twins were even born, you and Wanda had agreed, in a heartful parenting talk, that unrestricted internet access wouldn’t be part of your children’s childhood. That being established, the closest the twins got to the “internet” was their tablets - with a few games they begged to have since all their friends were active on and the little maximoffs were being left out- streaming shows, and, on some occasions like weekends, YouTube videos.

Still, Wanda stayed quiet, her expression neutral as she listened to Tommy’s words. Even if he couldn’t possibly get whatever their idea was from the ‘internet; more likely, he was just saying it as an excuse to shift the responsibility off himself and his brother. 

“And we wanted to try.. We wanted to have a night pool party”

Wanda arched an eyebrow, glancing between her sons with growing curiosity. She had a sneaking suspicion about where this was headed but decided to feign ignorance, opting to play along.

"A night pool party..." Wanda repeated slowly, dragging out the words with a hint of amusement as she looked at her sons. Her lips twitched with a barely suppressed smile. "And where would this happen, exactly?"

"Here! Tonight! We've already planned everything," Tommy blurted out, his words tumbling over each other in his excitement.

Billy immediately hissed at his brother, shooting him a sharp glare. That definitely wasn’t part of the carefully rehearsed convincing speech they had agreed on beforehand. 

Wanda frowned, her amusement fading. If it were any other season, the idea might not have bothered her as much. But her sons wanting to swim in the freezing water of the pool outside? That was a firm no. The idea would only serve so they’d catch a cold and be miserable for the rest of the week. Besides, late hours weren’t meant for pool parties—especially not in this weather and not with the age they had. 

There they stood in front of her: matching cozy pajamas, hair lazily brushed back, and fresh-faced from their recent bath. They looked absolutely adorable, and Wanda couldn’t bear the thought of letting their idea ruin that. Spring was just around the corner, and while her children were undeniably the cutest in the world, she had no interest in dealing with two sick little ones—especially when even the smallest sneeze turned them into impossibly needy bundles of chaos.

“No. It's not even hot.” she simply replied, looking back to the now black screen of her notebook. 

“But mom,” the twins protested in unison, their voices carrying the familiar tone of pleading.

Wanda, however, was unmoved. Her decision was final, and she wasn’t about to budge. Crossing her arms, she gave them a firm but gentle look that clearly said, not happening.

“No is no, boys. I’m not going to repeat myself. When it's hotter we can think about it”

The twins left her office with matching little huffs, their quiet complaints trailing behind them. They knew better than to argue further or try to reason with their mother—her decision was final, as always.

But the twins, as stubborn as any Maximoff to ever walk the Earth, weren’t ready to give up just yet. Instead, they exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them. They’d just have to come up with another strategy.

It was no secret that, between you and Wanda, you were the parent more likely to entertain the wild ideas your sons came up with. Camping in the backyard? Of course. Nearly a liter of milkshake, even if it was freezing outside? Without a doubt. If it sounded fun, you were usually on board.

You didn’t blame Wanda for seeing things differently. After everything she had endured in her life, control and structure brought her a sense of peace she had rarely known before. Ensuring that the household stayed balanced and comfortable wasn’t just her way of parenting—it was her way of feeling secure.

But that didn’t make her the “boring parent.” If you asked the twins, they’d insist that mama was just as fun as mommy. Sure, she was a little scarier when she got angry, but that only made her the perfect balance to your more carefree approach.

Although they knew better than anyone how to take advantage of your different personalities.

At times like this, when Billy and Tommy had their hearts set on something, they knew they could always count on you to try convincing Wanda to let them have their way.

Sometimes it didn’t work—after all, undermining Wanda’s authority wasn’t part of your parenting playbook, nor was it in hers. But there were moments when a little push for compromise didn’t hurt, especially for something harmless enough to reconsider.

That’s why you felt two little fingers poking each of your shoulders while you scrolled through your phone on the couch. Turning around, you were met with the two most adorable faces you’d ever seen.

“Hi, boys. Already tired of breaking the house upstairs?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

They responded with cheeky smiles, and without a word, Billy climbed up to sit beside you on the couch, Tommy quickly settling in next to his brother. Their mischievous grins told you they had something up their sleeves.

“Mommy…” Billy trailed off, his voice sweet and direct. “Can we have a swim party tonight?”

His question was much more straightforward than Tommy’s had been when they’d asked Wanda.

You frowned slightly at the idea. The weather wasn’t exactly cold, but it certainly wasn’t warm enough to make a pool party seem like the best choice. You thought about it for a moment. The pool was clean, they’d have fun, and it might tire them out enough for an easy bedtime.

“Hm. Why not?” you said with a shrug, giving in to their request. The twins smiled, happy to finally receive a ‘yes’ to their idea. 

“Can you convince mama then?” Tommy asked eagerly, his excitement practically radiating off him. Billy let out another huff, clearly annoyed by his brother's impatience.

You turned your body to face them, a sigh escaping your lips as you realized you'd fallen for one of their tricks, again

“Don’t turn this on me, boys,” you said, shaking your head. But when they hit you with those puppy-dog eyes, you knew you were in trouble. You sighed again, giving in.

“Okay, I guess I could try to convince her... but if she doesn’t budge, I won’t try again, alright?”

The twins nodded eagerly, their smiles growing wider once they got you to agree with their idea. You ruffled both of their messy hairs playfully before standing up, a smile tugging at your lips as you made your way toward Wanda’s office. The twins’ giggles echoed behind you, but you knew you had your work cut out for you if you were going to convince Wanda.

Just like your sons, you approached Wanda’s office quietly, giving a few light knocks before stepping inside. Wanda, who was about halfway through her report, looked up and smiled at the sight of you. Grateful for the excuse to take a break, she rolled her chair back slightly and patted her lap, inviting you to sit.

You settled sideways on her lap, and Wanda wasted no time wrapping one arm around your waist, pulling you close, sighing with the familiar weight of your body upon hers

“How’s it going?” you asked, your fingers working gently at the tense muscles in her neck. Wanda let out a soft sigh, her smile a blend of contentment and fatigue.

“Annoying, as always,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of frustration. Her hand drifted to your thigh, her fingers lightly running over the fabric in soothing motions as she added with a small smile, “But I’m halfway through it”.

“You know... the twins mentioned something about a night swim tonight,” you said casually, your tone light but deliberate. “And, apparently, I’ve been tasked with convincing you,” you added playfully, though there was a touch of seriousness behind your words.

“Have you now?” Wanda replied, her voice mirroring your playful tone but laced with even more amusement. She arched an eyebrow knowingly, already piecing together where this conversation was heading.

“I know you already said no, but they’re so excited about it, Wands,” you said, trying to play the kids’ happiness card against her. Wanda rolled her eyes, a small smirk tugging at her lips. She saw right through your game but decided to let you play it anyway.

“And just think about it,” you continued, your hands gently moving along her neck, down to her shoulders, and back up again in soothing motions. “We can turn on the pool LEDs, make it fun. They’ll tire themselves out, and bedtime will be so much easier.”

You laid out the positives, your tone soft but persuasive, waiting patiently for her response.

“Love.. I know. But it’s late and It’s not even hot” She tried to resonate with you, sighing with each argument, knowing she has already lost. 

“They’ll be alright, babe. Let them have this,” you said with a convincing smile.”

Wanda let out a heavy sigh, her expression unamused as she looked at you. “If they catch a cold, you will be the one taking care of them,” she said firmly, pointing a finger at you for emphasis.

But despite her words, you both knew the truth. If that scenario played out, Wanda would be right there, rolling her eyes but still doting on the sick twins, as she always did.

You stayed wrapped in her embrace for a while, both of you savoring the quiet presence of each other. Wanda adjusted you on her lap, shifting just enough to free both hands so she could continue working on her report. You rested your head against her shoulder, your warm breath brushing against her neck, which made her smile softly despite her focus on the task.

The content of the report didn’t matter to you now—you’d already heard all about the mission the day after she got home. So you stayed quiet, simply enjoying the comforting warmth of her body and the peaceful moment you were sharing.

After that,  you and Wanda made your way to the living room, stepping in quietly. The twins were curled up on the couch, watching something on Netflix, completely oblivious to your arrival. Wanda stepped forward, arms crossed, hands on her hips, and her head tilted in mock frustration.

“I can’t believe you both!” she exclaimed, her tone sharp and disapproving.

The twins froze, their eyes widening as they turned to face you both. Wanda’s intimidating stance and your almost-guilty expression made them shrink in their spots, unsure of what they’d done.

“What are you two doing? You should be getting ready for the swim party!” Wanda said, feigning exasperation but failing to hide the faint twitch of a smile.

The twins blinked at her, then at each other, before springing up from the couch in pure joy. “Oh my god, seriously?!” Tommy shouted.

“YESSS!” Billy cheered, both of them jumping around excitedly as they circled their mothers, their energy contagious.

Soon, the house transformed into its familiar brand of chaos. The twins, now dressed in their swimsuits, were already splashing around in the pool, the colorful glow of the LED lights—courtesy of Tony Stark���dancing across the water. Their laughter echoed through the backyard, only occasionally interrupted by shouts of, "It's so cold!" Wanda, unimpressed, responded with a dramatic eye roll, her arms folded across her chest.

Standing at the edge of the pool, Wanda kept her distance, her arms wrapped firmly around her waist as she watched the scene unfold. She made no effort to join the fun, choosing instead to watch with a raised eyebrow and an air of feigned detachment. Yet, the slight tug at the corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement.

Somehow, despite her initial objections, Wanda found a sense of peace in the chaos surrounding her. The sound of Tommy and Billy's laughter brought a soft smile to her face, and she even chuckled at your playful teasing—directed at both her and the twins.

Two days later, the inevitable happened. The twins began sneezing, and you found yourself on the receiving end of a very pointed lecture from Wanda. But, as always, her frustration melted away with a sweet kiss, leaving her shaking her head in exasperated affection.

It was a different kind of chaos—one filled with sniffles, tissues, and extra cuddles—but it was hers. Wanda’s heart had finally found something. Had finally found peace in the beautiful mess of it all.

✄╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it💌

masterlist

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream and failed first dates.

Mark Lee

"Are you okay?" that was the fifth time Mark asked you over the past few minutes, and you never get tired of saying that you're fine even though you've been standing on your feet for almost an hour. Mark couldn't help but to blame himself, but he didn't know that the line for that trending coffee shop will be long for a Thursday afternoon. He wanted to take you to somewhere you'll love as a first date but he didn't expect that you two will line up for an hour, and despite him suggesting to just go to another place, you convinced him that you're fine with waiting. "I just hope the food's good," you blurted out while waiting, making Mark laugh nervously. "I hope so too."

Huang Renjun

"No, no, no! There's no way!" you're still catching your breathe when you heard Renjun's panicked voice. "It's close!" he shouted, "Damn it, I thought we'll make it." You only looked up to the huge museum where visitors are slowly leaving, then your eyes shifted to a frustrated Renjun. You glanced at your watch and it was five minutes passed six. Today, you and Renjun were supposed to go to the museum but due to traffic, you two spent hours on the road. You two even raced towards the entrance, hoping that you two can make it, but sadly didn't. "Sorry to disappoint you," Renjun apologized, but you only smiled. "It's no worries, you know, we can always go back next time."

Lee Jeno

"I'm really, really sorry Jeno," you mumbled as you let your boyfriend inside. You felt a pang of guilt seeing him all dressed-up for your first date while you're still in your pajamas. "It's alright, it was an emergency after all." he smiled, glancing at the kid who's sitting on the sofa. You were excited about today's date especially when it's your first date with Jeno, but an emergency came up with your family, making your sister drop her child for you to babysit. You love your niece but today's not the right time. "There's always next time, how about an indoor date instead?" your boyfriend suggested, and before you could say anything, Jeno approaches your niece who seems to be strucked at your boyfriend.

Lee Donghyuck

"What are you doing here?" Haechan asked, surprised. "Visiting you, duh," you rolled your eyes but made your way inside his room. You can only pity his poor state. All cuddled inside the warm blanket, he looks so cute. But whenever he coughs, you were reminded of how today is supposedly your first date, but because of that damn flu, looks like you two will rescheduled it. "Thank you," and for the past few minutes of nothing but bickers, that's the first time Haechan said something genuinely. "I'll make it up to you to our real first date." and you only smiled as you handed him a glass of lukewarm water. "You don't have to Hyuckie, I wanted to take care of you too."

Na Jaemin

"Fuck," Jaemin mumbled, pressing the gas pedal harder. He tried to revive the engine, harshly gripping against the keys as his feet stomps on the pedal. "Fuck, why today?" he mumbled, while you look at him confused. "Is everything okay?" you okay. "Yeah just a minute ---" and no matter how hard he press, his car won't start. "This is so embarrassing," Jaemin could only say as he lets out a deep sigh. "No it's not," you only laughed, patting his shoulders lightly. "Come on, let's just commute, you know they say it's more romantic to commute on a date," Jaemin stares at you for a good minute before breaking into a smile. "You always know what to say princess."

Zhong Chenle

"What do you mean?" Chenle asked, his tone raised a little bit higher. "I'm sorry sir, but we didn't received any reservation for Zhong Chenle," the host said, looking at her clipboard as she tries to look for it once again. "No, that can't be, I called yesterday and even confirmed it early this morning, how is it that it wasn't reserved?" "I'm really sorry sir ---" "Can you please check it again?" but no matter how hard Chenle fought, due to a system error, his reservation was canceled. You don't know what to do as Chenle approaches you with a pissed expression. "I was really looking forward to have a hotpot with you," he pouts, which made you smile a bit. "Let's do it next time then, how about we go for burgers instead? I saw a really good place on the way."

Park Jisung

Jisung could only pout as he stares at the window of his room. Today was supposedly your first date with him, you two already planned to have a picnic lunch near Han river and then ride bikes afterwards. But it seems like the weather has other plans. Jisung has been wishing since early in the morning for the rain to stop but it just continued to pour that he's pretty damn sure that it's flooding outside. He apologizes to you through phone call but you assured him that it's fine. "How about a discord call instead? Let's just play some games," you suggested, making your boyfriend smile. "That would be nice."

[itstheghostofmypast]

Awake - (Maknae Line)

separate members Ateez x (F)Reader

Summary: You went to sleep after a HUGE (not really) fight, only, when you went to sleep you were alone, not in the comforting arms of your lover.

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: None

Word Count: 9.5K

Est.Read Time: 47 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

Hyung Line: Here

A/N: A little update, this took forever- Also I no longer remember how to write a literature review, yet, it is due on Monday (fml) .I'll update my requests soon and upload the next chapter of Meow soon, too! (I AM SORRY SAN'S PART IS EXTREMELY LONG)

Choi San

“I…what?” you paused, looking up from the vacuum-packed pillow in your lap. Sitting at the center of his bed, surrounded by various items, you blinked at the man in the swivel chair.

“I said no, I'm not going to use or put any other pillows on my bed.” The beanie clad man spat back, crossing his arms over his chest, the black shirt clinging onto his form. An eerie silence settled between the two, neither making their next move, nor deciding to back down. 

The evening had started extremely well. Tonight she was going to spend the night at his place, for the first time ever, which is why she was extremely excited and nervous. The two had spent a week planning the various activities for Friday night. He had volunteered to arrange the movies and bring the gaming console to his room, thrilled when she told him she'd bring the skincare products, claiming the two could do facials and wear face masks! It got better when he asked if perhaps they could play board games to which she instantly agreed, adding - “Let's bake too! I'll get the ingredients!” 

Hence, as soon as you had entered his room, you had dumped the contents of your back on his bed, showing him the numerous facemasks, UNO cards, a board game, some hair accessories, makeup and an unhealthy amount of snack (yes, you were planning on doing cutesy couple things)  you had brought, the ingredients for the ‘special Friday night brownie’ on the computer desk beside him.  What you did not expect was for it to all go down hill once you took out the pillows.

“What’s that?” he asked, watching you pull a vacuumed white thing out of your bag, one after another. Placing them on his bed, before taking out two pillow covers. You smiled at him, before ripping off the seal of one of the pillows, pulling the plastic off, and watching as it fluffed up. “Pillows!” you smiled, “You only have one, the poor boy is all worn out, lumpy, and old, so I got two more! You can replace it with them!” looking at him, you pressed the cotton pillow, to show him, “They’re super soft and have memory foam, I got them, especially for your neck and shoulders!” 

You grabbed the second one and placed it on your lap when he spoke, “No.” 

“What?”

“I said no, I'm not going to use or put any other pillows on my bed.”

Blinking at him, you moved the sealed pillow aside and scooted closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him, trying not to push any of the multiple things you had brought off the bed. Feet pressing against the floor you looked up at him, hands on your knees, leaning closer, “Sannie…it’s just a pillow-” 

That was perhaps all it took for the mood to go sour, real quick. He had got up from his seat and marched towards her, causing her eyes to widen in surprise, especially when he had stood right above her, hands on his hips, saying something she’d never even imagined, before reaching beside her - though she had flinched when his hand came closer, something he had noticed but chose to ignore- grabbing his pillow and pulling back. He stared at her, not even sparing her a glance as he walked out of the room, making sure to slam the door behind him as he did so, his words still ringing in her ears as she blinked down at her hands, wondering what she had said, if she had done something to offend him, if she really was inconsiderate.

 “I didn’t know you could be so inconsiderate and spoiled- or maybe you’re just selfish.”

Honestly, you had thought of going after him, but you had never seen react like this- this uncharacteristic outburst was extremely new to you, the cold words thrown at you were worse, this wasn’t what you were used to. This wasn’t the same Sannie who would whisper sweet nothings in your ear when you were sad, this wasn’t the same Sannie who once came over when he found out you were sick, only leaving when you were asleep and well fed. This definitely wasn’t the same man who had taken hold of your heart, delicately placing it in his pocket- no, you really didn’t know who that was. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t go after him, at one point, you had thought of packing up and going home, but when you glanced at the clock 01.23 AM was not a very appropriate time to travel back home alone. With that you had neatly packed up everything but the essentials needed for your nightly routine,making sure all you’d have to do was change before leaving as soon as the sun woke up. 

You peaked out the door to find complete darkness, sighing in relief as you took your essentials and walked down the hall towards the washroom, passing by Seonghwa’s room, making sure to be quiet when you noticed the light peaking through from under the door. If you focused, you could make out Seonghwa’s muffled voice, though it was like he was talking to himself, or he was on the phone, but he did not sound pleased at all. Due to which you tried to rush through your routine, making sure to be as quiet as before, slowly closing the door, your breath hitching at the soft click, a hand gripping the door handle, while your palm pressed against the wood, trying to listen to any sounds of movements, luckily there was nothing. 

With a sigh you walked over to the mirror, grimacing at the sight, your new night suit was but a simple but a cute cotton outfit, a lavender camisole with a patching pair of loose fitted shorts, ensuring maximum comfort and well…it was supposed to ensure his liking as well. The mere thought of him squeezed your heart, wanting to go after him and sort it out- but no, you were a big girl and a smart one, no man could just say something so brash and throw a fit before leaving, not even the man who held your heart in his warm palm. 

You had assumed that these thoughts were going to consume and feed off your sleep, but boy, were you wrong, as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, off to dreaming about who knows what, but it was a pleasant dream, a very soft, warm and nice dream, maybe it was because of the new pillow, who knows- but it was a very life like dream, where you felt all fuzzy and secure, as if you were in a comforting hug, ones like he’d give you, a bit too…realistic. 

Though she only jerked awake at the feeling of something trailing up her spine, a small gasp breaking the silence, as she tried to move away, only to be pulled closer, a groan from above her head vibrating through her whole being. Oh. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, you tilted your head up, to the best of your ability, forcing the man’s chin off your head as he blinked down at you with droopy eyes, a sheepish pout, ever so visible even in the dim light. The thing trailing up your spine, was in fact, his fingers, his fingertips tracing your spine, in a soothing manner. Your own hand squeezed in between their bodies, trying to push him away but he didn't budge, only his palm pressed against the small of your back, trying to keep you near him.

“You don’t get to be mean, and assume a little skinship is gonna fix that.”

Your words were harsh, and your tone was even more harsh, but you wanted it to be, you wanted it to sting, enough for him to realise this wasn't a joke, he had ruined the entire night and the mood.

His grip loosened at your words, enough for you to slip away from you to move onto the other pillow, sighing at the cold sensation on your cheek, now at the same eye level as the moron who was on the other pillow- internally you wanted to be petty and snatch it from under his head, he didn't deserve it, but the sight of his mochi cheek smashed against the soft pillow had your inner girl squealing at at the sight.

“I…I've had this same pillow since my trainee days.” he mumbled, reaching behind him to pull out the lumpy, beat up, tired pillow and pulling it to his chest, hugging it closer, “I had it when I got picked…I had it when we went to Gangnam…when grandpa…passed and…well…I- did you think I was gonna...hurt you?” He whispered, referring to the way you had flinched, of course the guilt was eating him up, that's why he had gone to Seonghwa to talk about it- maybe he looked to scary for his own good, but hell, an angry Seonghwa was even more frightening, and that's whom he had to deal with.

With a deep breath you reached over and placed your hand on top of his hand, "It was...reflex...I knew you wouldn't...at least not physically," , noticing how his fingers gripped the pillow harder at contact, “Why…didn't you just…say that before?”

His breath hitched at your question, looking everywhere but at your face, the insecurities brewing inside as he chewed on his lower lip, unsure if he should answer you, what would you think about him if he told you? What if you find it weird, what if his insecurities and his past makes you question the worth of this relationshipz- he's not the boy he used to be, he's not sensitive or weak or-

“Sannie…” she whispered, slowly moving closer to him, her face on the same fluffy pillow he was on, the old pillow now squished between the two as she sighed, “You can tell me…” Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb stroking the warm skin, trying fo coax whatever it was out of him. She was still upset, but, she'd never seen him this conflicted. 

“I just…” with a sigh he closed his eyes, thinking of what to say, only to end up blank. He opened his eyes to meet hers, mumbling, “Seonghwa yelled at me for what I said to you…he's right…I shouldn't have said that…I just…you don't really know…I mean I wasn't always…like this…this big or…manly or strong-” his grip on the pillow loosened, instead his arm wrapped around her, pulling her into him in one go, his lips curled into a small smile at her squeak, his pillow between the two, pressed to the max, “And when…you said its just a pillow I- I kind of…I mean its stupid but it scared me how I… if you were to realise I just grew bigger, I'm not that different, I'm still scared of bugs, I still hate vegetables and -”

“You really are a little dumb.” you cut him off, pressing a finger on his lips, to shush him, “I don't care if you're not all buff and big, I don't care if you were lanky and whiney- I just know you were San then and you are San now- as long as that big ol'heart of yours stays the same, I'm all yours.”

You felt his grip tighten around you, pressing your forehead against him as he relaxed against you, letting out a breath of relief. 

“Sure, these big boys add a great amount to your aura points though.” You giggled, patting his muscular arms, “A softie with big guns is all a girl wants~” you smiled at the way his face contorted in confusion, only to quickly press your lips against him, laughing at his surprised squeak. 

“I'll make it up to you…” he whispered,  finally feeling the exhaustion of the entire confession settling in, moving to remove the pillow from between them but she stopped him, surprising him yet again as she smiled at him, one that had his heart beat so loud that's all he could hear.

“I said don't use it as a pillow because your neck will hurt, but I never said throw away a part of yourself- plus its nice…smells like you.” her fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled his arm over the pillow and herself, snuggling closer to him, “You're lucky I was staying over for the whole weekend.”

With your head tucked under his chin, arm wrapped around him, smoothly rubbing his back, his wrapped around your waist, he sighed nuzzling into the new pillows, happy that they carried your scent more than his,  “Lucky to have you in my life.”

Song Mingi

Of course you were mad at him, how could you not be? He was supposed to come home by 6- he was supposed to spend the evening with you, have dinner with you, watch a movie with you, and spend your anniversary together. Well technically, it was your 6 month anniversary,  but hey, half a year meant something to you, and as much as you were mature and ‘a cold-hearted’ b*tch, as claimed by your male coworkers, you were just soft for the giant man child who somehow managed to thaw the glacier you had for a heart.

So, when you had texted him earlier today he had instantly replied with an excited confirmation, what you did not think that after that he wouldn’t respond to you. You tried calling too, but his phone went straight to voicemail, so you waited and waited and waited- until you got a little notification of a certain white haired man doing a live, one that wasn’t scheduled. Were you upset because he was doing his job? No. Were you upset he didn’t tell you? Yes. He should’ve been decent enough to at least text you that he was going to be late, that he had work- you’d never asked him to prioritise you over his work, you knew what you were getting into, and with your workaholic personality, he knew yours, which is why he should have known that you would have understood wherever he was coming from.

Naturally she was furious when he stepped into the apartment, though being Mingi, he had no clue what she was upset about, even after he saw the cold pizza, the melted candles and small gift that lay wrapped in glossy paper. Instead he had walked over to her with a smile, ready to hug her- wrong move.

"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!" 

Her voice boomed across the hall, followed by the echo of her slap resonated in the confines of his aching heart, staring down at her with utter shock, a whimper at the tip of his tongue, an apology right after but hey- this was Song Mingi, and using his actual emotional maturity was never his first move.

Hence the platinum blonde gasped, giving her an offended look and mumbling, "Why are you being so pissy? It's literally a pizza, not some homemade meal." He eyed the table before turning to her, though she looked as if she were about to explode- somewhere deep down he was kind of afraid, he’d never seen her this angry, she was often quite calm and composed, extremely reserved. That would explain why her reaction caught him off guard, especially when he tried to talk to her, tried to hold her hand so she’d stop leaving every damn room she walked into.

“Look, I have a job!!” he called out walking after her, into the kitchen, “You of all people should know that, I can’t just leave my fans because you wanna celebrate some made up event!”

“Its not made up Mingi!” you turned around and glared at him, “I- I asked you two days ago about this, I told you it meant something to me and- I just, I can’t believe you didn’t even think of texting me! What’s the difference between you and any other guy from my office if you can’t communicate properly!”

Granted, if he took a minute to process her words, but sometimes she was so complicated. Moreover, he knew what he got into once he began to chase after her for months, he knew what he was getting into when she directly told him about her issues and insecurities, her reserved attitude and persona, one that she often let go off when she was with her giant, lovable dummy. If he kept all those factors in mind, and just took a moment to think, he would have understood the premise of her argument, but he really didn’t want to, or perhaps he just didn’t take it seriously, either way, his next words were the reason for which he was back in his form, wondering why the hell he didn’t think of apologising like a normal person.

“They’re lucky because they don't have a Runik's cube for a girlfriend.”

That was all it took for the bomb to go off;

"GET YOUR FAKE GOJO LOOKIN ASS OUT OF MY APARTMENT!”

“W-what-” his question was cut off when she shoved him away, going to grab the nearest object which happened to be the very present she had spent most of her salary on, swinging it right at his face- screw his job. But the bastard was quick when he ducked and tried to get to her, only to get whacked in the head with a candle, “Babe-”

“I SAID LEAVE!” you yelled, staring at him through bleary eyes, trying to keep the whirlwind of emotions, taking a deep breath as you pointed towards the door, feeling the cold slither up your fingertips, choosing the words that would end it all, whoever said dating was fun, was wrong, you’d rather stay single than feel any similar form of pain, though you did feel like you should have the final say in this. It didnt matter that the tall man in front of you looked like he was fumbling with the pieces of your so called relationship, tripping over his words has he tried to sprout out an apology, “Leave, let me relieve you of this burden.”

For you, the conversation had ended there, especially when he was standing outside, not sparing him a moment as you slammed the door on his face. After that, like any San individual you had cleared up the table, initially thinking of throwing out the pizza, but then it hit you - “I work hard to earn too, its not just him.” So you kept that, threw away the candles and the other decorations (stabbed the balloons-naturally). Honestly, you didn't know where his gift went, probably smashed into pieces after it ‘boinked’ off his stupid, giant head. After that you had washed up (cried in the shower for about an hour or so), stumbled towards your bed and knocked out as soon as your head hit the pillow.

The worst kind of ‘black-out’ sleep known to man, is what you endured that night, only to wake up when the fire alarm went off, fighting off the blankets, almost tumbling to your demise several times before entering the kitchen, coughing as the smoke entered your lungs. You opened the nearest window and turned around to bump into a softer form, arms wrapping around your form, before you were dragged out of the apartment and into the balcony, wheezing for your life, taking in as much clean air in one go as possible. 

Mingi rubbed her back in a circular motion, a hand holding onto hers, helping her sit down on one of the stools, pulling one closer and sitting right next to her as he held her hand, thinking of going back inside to get her water, though when he felt her squeeze his hand he face turned to meet hers, blinking at her stoic face. Damn, she’s still mad at him.

As soon as clarity hit, she had realised, this moron was back, not only that, it was still night out, so he had graciously trespassed into her apartment, set something on fire, almost killed her and then dragged her out on the balcony, of all the idiots she could’ve picked from to date, she chose the their leader.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was…trying to make you breakfast.”

“I told you its over-the hell? What time is it?”

She got up only to feel him tug her back down, this time onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist so she couldn’t escape, as she glared down at him, “Let go.”

“No…” shaking his head he buried his face in her neck, “ its 5 something, I…I’m sorry.” he whispered, feeling her stiffen in his hold, he knew a mere apology wouldn’t be enough, but he had to start somewhere, especially when he had gone back to the apartment and narrated the entire incident to his two bros- both thus throwing him back out, San adding an, “And don’t come back until you fix your mess, you ungrateful idiot.” Truthfully, he didn’t need to tell him that he had f*cked up, he was well aware of that fact, he just needed a push- that and he was terrified of her, he’d only seen her get angry at her coworkers when they’d mess up work, or that one time she got mad at a couple of highschoolers who thought kicking a puppy was fun, he’d never been the one at the receiving end of her wrath, until today. Perhaps that’s why he had assumed he was all forgiven, all safe, he had some form of immunity, thus, giving him the privilege of being mean to her- well, that theory was stupid. Wat made him assume he could just be mean to her because he felt like it? Since when was he, someone who knows what it felt like to be neglected, begin to neglect his own loved ones? She never fell in love with a man who was like this- what was he doing?

She was about to push him off, especially after he didn’t bother adding anything after his sorry, no explanation, nothing, only to stop when she felt something damp on her skin, realising that he in fact was not rocking them back and forth, but the man child was crying. 

“Dude…are you…crying?” she asked, gripping her shoulders as she pushed him away, earning a whine, as the bigger man tried to cover his face with his hands, “Song Mingi, what is wrong with you-”

“I’m sorry, okay!” his whimper had her freezing, eying his face, “I- I didn’t mean it! I don’t know why I said it, okay? It wasn’t cool and I-I know tha- I just- you’ve never, I mean- angry- upset because of me-” his words when she squeezed his cheeks, cupping his warm face, glaring down at him, frowning at the wetness.

“The Song Mingi I fell in love with was a softie- not a red flag like Gojo.”

He could only nod at her statement, fingers gripping onto her harder, cherishing the lack of past tense in her statement.

“Am I going to get him back, or is this the new you?”

She moved her hands to let him speak, only he pulled her flush against him, instinctively her arms wrapped around his shoulders, sighing when she felt his hold tighten. Her small squeak echoed in the quiet of the early morning, blending in with the soft symphony of the birds that had woken up before the sun, as he stood up, slowly walking back inside the apartment. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she blinked up at him, catching his little pout, only to sigh, as he carried her to her bedroom, only stopping at the edge of his bed.

“Can I…sleep with you?”

She hummed for a moment, biting her lip to hide her smile, when she noticed him frown at the time she was taking to answer his question, “What if I say no-SONG MINGI!”

He rolled his eyes at your little scream, he didn’t put his entire body weight on you, though, he did roll around until both of you were wrapped in a soft cocoon, with your back pressed against his warm, broad chest, his arm wrapped around you, as he shamelessly draped a heavy leg over yours. For a while, the two of you lay there silently, watching as the golden beams of the warm morning sun, sifted through the slits of the curtains, creating an luminous mosaic across the opposite wall, the song of the world waking up around you was slowly lulling you to sleep, and just when it became just right, he instantly broke the peaceful atmosphere, “Thank you for the ring.”

“Oh.” so it didnt vanish, he had taken it,

“Most welcome…”you whispered, trying to cling onto the strings of tranquility that were wrapped around you, “Did you take it before I threw you out?”

“Mhmm…is it…a couple ring?” he asked, though a moment later he got no response, causing him to peer down at her, and let out a chuckle, she had fallen asleep- she must’ve been tired, especially after all the stupid things he did yesterday, though his smile widened after his hand trailed down her arm, hand clasping hers, almost shivering with joy at the feeling of the cold metal on her finger.

Jung Wooyoung

Wooyoung had a sharp tongue, he knew that, the guys knew that, hell, you knew that too, but did that mean you were prepared for it? No, of course not, you were his little, itty-bitty, cute pookie- don't hate the name, hate the man who had bestowed it upon you. 

He gave you the name when you called him to your apartment for the first time, mind you, it wasn't what Wooyoung was expecting. The first time you had invited him over for the night had him rolling on the ground like a dog, his shy and quiet little girlfriend was willingly fueling his weird side, he couldn't wait to barge into her private space, ask her all sort of questions, learn more about her, tease her, test her limits, take in her reactions, in every sense; physical and psychological.

The moment she had opened the door and his eyes landed on her cotton baby pink shorts, he felt himself shiver with excitement, trying not to howl like a mad dog, scaring her away- though that entire fantasy was short lived when he realised by ‘sleep over’ she literally meant ‘sleep over’, like a …slumber party. So yes, that night they didn't do what he thought they would, but they did; give each other facials, watch a movie while wearing her newly bought sheet masks, paint each other’s nails (well he just made a mess of hers) and do each other's hair, honestly the night ended with him going straight to dreamland once she began to brush his hair, only waking up in the morning to find her snuggled with him, clinging onto him. He liked it, never thought he would, but the moment his eyes noticed the way she was gripping onto his shirt, his heart leaped with joy- it felt nice being loved like this, being needed. Hence, sleepovers like these had become a norm, so much so that sometimes she'd go over to his place unannounced, and surprise him with her little surprise sleepover, one he'd often love it. Instantly attacking her with unlimited smooches, hugging and squeezing her till the air in her lungs would run out. 

Unfortunately, tonight was not one of those nights, in fact, when he had walked into his room, the sight of you actually irked him- unsure of why, but your shy smile and gentle eyes just had just made his blood boil. Perhaps it was the stress of the entire day, or the argument he had with San over something stupid, or how Mingi ate his chicken piece, or because Jongho kept on humming a silly tune even on the ride back home. The point is, he was not pleased, and like the love-struck puppy you were, you didn’t register his loud sigh or the way he dropped his bag on the floor, instead, you chose to slide his swivel chair to him, smiling up at him and reaching for his hand, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said before slipping his hand out of yours and going to his cupboard, all the while struggling to take off his sweatshirt and tossing it somewhere once he was done. He could hear the squeak of the wheel as he turned around and looked at you, taking in the way you were pouting at him, somewhere deep down he found you adorable, but on the surface, he really couldn’t deal with you right now- he just wanted to be alone. Moving around you, he went back out of the room, leaving you confused and a bit hurt. It wasn’t like Wooyoung to react like this, to completely leave you hanging. Sure, he had moments where his social battery would run out, when he’d just come to her apartment and lay on her bed, idly scrolling on his phone, just making enough space for her, when she’d come and lay with him, letting her snuggle into his while he continued doing what he was quietly, neither saying a word- but he had never ignored her.

He looked tired…like he was tired of her? Shaking your head at the thought, you instantly thought of ways to make him feel better, considering his flatmates were outside and he was still in the shower (probably), you looked around his room, you could tidy it up, and you did, and once you were done, you picked up his jacket to hang it in his cupboard only to frown at the mess inside; hang clothes, fold them neatly, align the shoes- as long as Youngie Is less stressed and feels better, that was your goal.

By the time you were done, it had already been an hour. You were hanging the last jacket when the man walked back in, staring at you with the same unreadable expression, completely ignoring your cute smile, watching as you closed the cupboard. You were about to ask him what was bothering him when he tossed the wet towel on the chair and walked out of the room again, but this time you trailed after him, asking him all sorts of questions, just to get him to finally say something.

“How was your day?”

“Fine.”

He walked into the kitchen, you just followed.

“Did you take a rest between practice?”

“Yeah.”

He opened the fridge to take out last night’s pizza, well, this was it then, he turned around and almost cursed, she was standing there with a plate for him. He took it, mumbling a thanks, before putting it in the microwave. Standing there, arms crossed as he glared at the device to bloody hurry up. 

“How was the photoshoot?”

“Fine. Nothing new.”

“I brought face masks, wanna wear one later?”

“No.”

“Oh,okay …I got my bonus today.”

“Great.”

“Wanna spend it with me on cute things?”

“No.” he mumbled, “Invest it.” he sighed, before opening the microwave, taking the plate and turning around, only to sigh when he saw her holding a chair out for him, pouting when he frowned at her. Truth be told, he’d never reacted like this, she wasn’t sure what to do? He’d often match her energy- or ‘her freak’, as he’d say. Maybe being nice to him would make him feel better? She sat down on the chair beside him, facing him, though he just started to eat quietly, not really saying anything.

“You want some tea?”

“No.”

“Oh…” you mumbled, looking at your lap, taking a moment to think, before looking up at him, again, watching him take a bite, he was chewing quietly when you gently reached over to tuck some of the stray wet strands behind his ear- though he didn’t seem pleased, in fact, he just let out an irritated huff and turned his head to look at you. You quickly recoiled, mumbling an apology, new tactic, stay quiet, maybe just staying by him would make him feel better. Therefore, you watched him go about his business, watching him wash the plate and put it on the rack before going out of the kitchen.

He finally sat down in front of the TV, rubbing his aching neck, waiting for the damn thing to turn on when he felt the sofa dip, feeling her sitting close to him. He side eyed her before putting on a game, whatever, he’d watch the match on repeat. Hunched forward, elbows on his knees, frowning as he stared at the screen. Okay, so she said she wouldn’t touch him, but if he was in pain, maybe she could help out, massage his shoulders or neck? She moved closer to him, enough for her fingers to graze his arm, “Youngie… you need me to massage it?” 

“What I need is for you to not act like an attention deprived clingy girlfriend for a while.”

She froze at his words, slowly watching him get up and walk away mumbling something else about wanting to be left alone, or how he never had a moment of peace- honestly it didn’t matter anymore, his previous sentence had done enough damage. If he wanted to be left alone so be it, she was going to give him exactly what he wanted. Once she heard the door slam shut she sniffled, finally letting the fat tears roll down her flushed cheeks, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve, his words kept repeating in her mind, over and over again. Without glancing at the time, she decided to go to the only place she'd be able to cry in peace, without giving him the satisfaction of the hurt of his words- that and she wanted to fulfil his wish,  she was going to give him some peace and quiet.

Slamming the door shut behind him he mumbled something about being smothered by her as he flopped down on the bed, turning to the side to face the wall as he huffed, closing his eyes. Moments passed but sleep was not something he was blessed with, instead he kept on tossing and turning, finally turning to other side, often her side, of the bed, glaring at it. Why wasn't she here? she’s the one who wanted to spend time with him, rudely showing up here unannounced,  interrupting his normal routine, talking away when he was eating, even offering to massage his neck. Was she a masseuse!? 

With a huff he sat up and glared around the room, spotting her pink small suitcase, neatly placed at the corner of the room. His eyes flickered to the desk, organised and clean. On it where a variety of neatly stacked face masks, some nail polishes and her makeup pouch. Sliding off the bed, he walked out of the room, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants as he continued grumbling. Granted he was still annoyed but he did need her to sleep and- where was she? 

Confused, he looked around the living room, then walked into the kitchen, wondering if she was making tea. She was nowhere in sight. He made his was down the hall to look for her in the washroom, knocking when the door wouldn't open, “You in there?”

“Yes, now scram.”  

Ignoring Jongho he walked back into his room, perhaps she had gone back into the room- the panic was beginning to settle in as he slammed open the door to be met with a clean room. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Where did she go?! His panic began to morph into guilt once the memories of his behaviour with her began to play at the back of his mind. 

“Cupcake!?” 

Grabbing his phone he went through his contact, tapping on her contact ID 🧚‍♀Bby Gurl🧚‍♀️. He pressed the phone against his ear, chewing on his lower lip as he waited for her to pick up, but when he heard the muffled sound of her ringer coming from her PURSE!? Cue Wooyoung going into full panic mode as he ran to her purse, flipping it over on his desk, staring at the phone. Shit. Where did she go?! It was- oh hell no, it was 2 am. He wracked his brain for what could he have said, it was something mean, but truth be told he didn't remember- a toxic trait, he knows, and he's not proud of it, especially since he used it to hurt her.

Deciding it was time to find her, he opened his cupboard to take out a jacket, only to feel his gut clench…she had organised his cupboard too. What the hell Wooyoung? She wasn't your maid, she was only being nice to you! The image of her small frown flashed before his eyes as he zipped up his jacket. He grimaced at the thought of tone he had used with her, how he had ignored her when she tried to touch him, since when he was against skinship? Pulling the door open he came face to face with none other than-

“Mind telling me why I found her crying in the parking lot?”

“Hongjoong move I- What?” his eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he saw his girl standing there behind Hongjoong, staring at the ground with bloodshot eyes.

“I- HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!?”

You flinched at his tone, whining and hiding behind the man who had spent almost an hour trying to convince you to come back to the apartment. Hongjoong was parking his car when he saw someone sitting there on the concrete ground, next to a very familiar car. You hadn’t said much to him, only that you left your keys upstairs and if he could be kind enough to get them- he wasn’t an idiot, one look at your pink nose and puffy eyes, he knew this had Wooyoung written all over it. Hence, he had to spend an hour trying to convince you to at least come upstairs, it was already too late to go back home.

“Wooyoung.” the older one warned, eying his bandmate who could only sigh and nod, letting him know that his defences were down and he was no longer in the mood for hurting her in any manner, in fact, he wanted nothing more to apologize and beg for her forgiveness. Though, perhaps that’s not how Hongjoong saw it, for he let the girl go into her boyfriend’s room before closing the door so he could have a heart-to-heart talk with this moron.

Once the door closed you walked over to your makeup pouch, taking out your wet wipes and removing the mascara and makeup that had smeared because of all the crying. You quickly changed your clothes, glancing at the door every five seconds in case he was coming in, you were in no mood to talk to him. As soon as you were done you turned off the lights- yeah, you wanted him to trip and land on his stupidly handsome face- and jumped onto the bed, cocooning yourself in his blanket. No, you did not plan on sharing it, though the fact that you were now surrounded by him had a very paradoxical effect; on one hand, you were extremely furious at the man, wanting nothing more than to avoid him for the rest of your life, on the other hand, being surrounded by his being, in his sheets, made you feel safer, made you feel warmer, you liked it- you hated it- you liked it- you hated it- you loved him.

Yet, for some unforsaken reason, he thought shaking you awake from a blissful slumber would be a wonderful idea. As soon as Hongjoong was done with his lecture, he slipped back into the room to talk to her but found her asleep. A part of him wanted her to rest, especially when he removed the blanket from her face, sighing in guilt as he noticed how tired she looked, her brows furrowed even in her sleep- no, he wasn't going be one of those couples that went to bed after a fight. 

Her world shook as she gasped, hand grabbing whatever was shaking her, until she flung the hand off her shoulder and turned to the other side mumbling, “Stop it…I'm tired.”

“And I'm sorry.” 

You had heard him loud and clear, you even her the guilt in his tone, but did you care? No. you weren't going to be a clingy deprived girlfriend, so you did what he wanted, and ignored him as you closed your eyes again. Trying to ignore him when he apologised again, this type pressing his cheek against yours, rubbing it against yours, and throwing his leg over yours, basically laying half on top of you, “I really am sorry.”

With a huff you shoved him off and sat up, back against the headrest as you glared at him with your arms crossed, cheeks puffed out and- 

Oh my god, Wooyoung, she’s pouting. He internally screamed, taking in your droopy eyes, your puffed out rosy cheeks and the way you were pouting- his cutie really was something. He tried to reach for your cheek but you slapped his hand away, causing him to yelp and frown, “I am apologising here.”

“Don’t talk to me, you’re horrible and mean! I just wanna go to sleep, stop pretending you like me!”

Horrible and mean…well, he’s heard worse, so he’d take it. He was mean to you, incredibly mean, and his attitude towards you was horrible. You were right about that, but  you were terribly wrong about the last part. Extremely wrong, if he says so himself. 

He looked at her intently, almost too intently, and he figured out he’d been giving her the ‘I’m a bastard’ stare when her form, faltered, her eyes began to water, as she bit her lip and broke the stare off, instead, dipping her head in shame like she was the one who was at fault here. Man, what was wrong with him today?

Her grip tightened on the cotton, pulling the blanket closer as if it were to bring her some form of comfort, if he wanted to break up with her that was fine, she just never thought her first break-up would be this nasty. She had mentioned a few times to him how this was her first relationship and although he seemed a bit hesitant, he had explained to her how his job made certain normal couple activities difficult for him sometimes, and if she’d want their relationship to flourish, she’d have to accept this fact. And she did, everything was fine, it was all going well, then what could she have possibly done for him to lash out at her like that? Maybe she was never cut out for this-

“That’s not true…” he whispered, placing his hands on hers, slowly unclenching her fists, his grip tightening on her hands when he heard her whimper, frowning at the way she hiccupped an apology again, looking up at him this time, as if she were trying to cling onto something that had slipped through her fingers. “That’s not true…and that’s not right,” with a heavy sigh he pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, manoeuvring them, till he was in her position, and now she was on his lap, arms around his neck, clinging onto him, dampening his shirt as loud sobs wracked through her petite frame, mumbling nonsense that he couldn’t interpret, “And…I’m sorry I made you think like that today.” Gently, he pressed his lips against her head, rubbing her back in a soothing motion, slowly giving her a squeeze every so often, pulling her closer, if possible. By the time she had calmed down, a bit, he slowly pushed her off his chest so he could look at her, but she never met his gaze, causing him to gently grip her chin, making her look up at him, “Hey…don’t look away,” he smiled at her, “Don’t hide that pretty face from me.” His smile faltered when he noticed her lower lip tremble, sighing as he cupped her face with both hands, “I am truly, extremely sorry for what I did and said today,” leaning closer he pressed his lips against her forehead, “Nothing I said or did today was triggered because of you being here- there is no explanation for my behaviour other than the fact that I handled my emotions poorly, and took it all out on that one person,” he paused to give her a smile, especially when he felt her grip tighten on his shirt, “the only person, who is concerned about my wellbeing and livelihood, and wants nothing but my love in return.”

“Woo…” she sniffed, pouting at him as she tugged on his shirt, “What made you so upset today?” 

He could chuckle at the way she was still worried about him, of course, leave it to his little love bug to be more concerned about ‘why’ he did what he did, just as soon as he apologises. Shaking his head in disbelief he booped her nose, shrugging, “Never mind that, do you want something to eat? I’ll whip up something real good, an apology feast for my lovely pookie.” His laugh bounced off the walls of his room once he noticed her visibly cringing at the nickname, “No? Well, how about I make sweet love to you, enough to have you screaming for more-” her hands clasped over his mouth, muffling his stupidity as she sighed in relief, resting her forehead against and closing her eyes to recover from the blush. 

When she felt him tap her waist she moved her hands and sighed, “Just hold me close.”

“Well, don’t need to ask me twice.” Wooyoung declared before pushing her off him cackling when he heard her squeak, wiggling her eyebrows at her, admiring how she almost bounced on his bed, before laying down, pulling her closer. His smile widened when she snuggled into him, gripping onto the back of his shirt, before her lips gently pressed against his skin, admiring the warmth, basking in his presence. He pulled up the blanket, covering them both, before placing his chin on top of her head, sighing in relief, trying to rid of the bad memories of the day. Letting the tranquil love envelope the two, enjoying just being there…that is until a soft whisper broke the silence, followed by another;

“Make it up to me tomorrow.”

“I’ll make it up to you for the rest of your life”

Choi Jongho

Okay, yes, he was a bastard, he was well aware of that, but right now, the charming man had something else on his mind. What you ask, oh its simple, it was the same question almost every guy in the world had, the same dilemma every man in the world suffers through, an event every man self-induces; the, ‘How do I make my girlfriend feel better after I brought up her insecurities’. Now, one may wonder, what did this sweet little lad do? How could he possibly manage to upset his girl, his daisy, his lover, his sweety- well, it all started when he came down with a little cold, and the dictator Kim Hongjoong banned him from the studio and the dorm, which meant there would be no one acting at his every whim, hence, the little lad had to go to the next best thing, go to the only person who made his heart flutter like he just devoured some mentos after chugging a cola- his girlfriend.

It all started fine, with you opening the door, ready to go for a nightly jog when you saw your cute boy standing at the door, with his nose all pink and stuffy and his pout making your heart clench. Next thing he knew he was pulled inside and tucked into your fluffy, soft bed, being taken care of like there was no tomorrow. You were kind and sweet and ever caring, you’d always been like that, even before the two had started dating. 

You were so kind to him that you actually had the poor boy chasing you for almost a year. Now why is that one may wonder, simple, you were older than him- two years to be precise. The two of you had met by complete accident, you were out for your nightly jog and you had somehow managed to trip on the cracked footpath. Honestly you had thought no one was around so you hobbled to the nearest bench, trying to untie your shoe, when you heard someone clear their throat, causing you to freeze. He was big, you could tell and it wasn't just because of that hoodie and cap or mask- no, he looked borderline threatening. With an audible gulp you whispered, “Y-yes?” 

“Do you need help with that?” He asked, lowering his mask a bit and standing up before crouching next to your foot, causing you to flinch and shake your head but he was already slipping it off your foot, trying to not react to your bright yellow, Pikachu themed sock.

“You should be careful” he mumbled, inspecting the damage, “I think you just sprained it, if you want I could take you to an ER near by-”

“No thank you!” You cut him off, he was cute, there was no doubt in that, he looked sweet but hey, he was a guy and he was a guy who looked big enough to kill yo-

“My name's Jongho.” He sighed, and looked around, before sitting next to her, “And you are, strange nighters jogger?”

You blinked at him and sighed out your name, before mumbling, “What's an Ateez member doing out here in the middle of the night?” 

His blood ran cold at the mention of his band, causing him to slowly side eye her, though she looked as composed as ever, like she had just talked about the weather.

“I…uh-”

“Don't worry,” she mumbled, before sitting straight and stretching her, “Okay, I'm gonna go now.”

“Let me help you out.”

Honestly, the words had left him sooner than he could process them, his body had moved on its own, and in a matter of minutes she found herself sitting in an apartment she had never dreamt of before too, pressing an ice pack on her ankle, listening to Jongho and another man, Hongjoong battle it out.

“I’m sorry, but a random stranger?”

“Technically I see her jogging every day- or well at night.”

“So??”

“Technically she’s hurt.”

“Technically, Choi Jongho this isn’t a hospital.”

“Technically, it's rude to discuss someone in front of them, pretending they can’t hear you.”

That had led the older man to apologise and leave  them alone. That very statement had led Jongho to believe that he had found someone who could ‘match his freak’. So, after a year of jogging with her, he had finally managed to woo her. He liked their dynamic, he was the eldest in his home, he was bossy and of course mature, hence, he had assumed he’d prefer someone younger than him, someone more timid and shy, someone who’d be impressed by him- though the only thing she was severely impressed with was his potential to snap several apples in half, which was great, because she loved eating apples and he loved snapping them in half- he loved you.

Then, how come, you were now sitting on the same bench, where you had met the moron, questioning  your entire relationship- oh yeah, because when you forced him to drink his soup so he’d get better quicker, he decided to be a brat and snap at her;

“If I wanted to be coddled, I would’ve gone to my mom, you’re older, but not that old.”

Sure, leave it to Choi Jongho to bring up your insecurities because- well, not really, Jongho was often very sweet and considerate, he was attentive and mindful of both his actions, and his words, so if he had decided to let out something so bitter and rude, it really did mean he was sick. But did that make it any better? Did that mean he could just bring up something they’d discuss in the late hours of the night, alone with one another, surrounded by one another, vulnerable to one another. It was during these hours he had confessed how he was afraid she’d leave him for someone older, smarter, more mature, only for his whispers to turn into a snort when she told him how she was afraid that he’d leave her for someone younger than him, someone sweeter, and cuter, more shy and more timid. The two had slept better that night, snuggled up against each other, she loved how he had held her tighter than night, he had loved how she had let them sleep in the next morning, only to spend a few more minutes together.

So, no, he could not just say whatever he wanted because he was sick-

“You wanna get sick too?”

She flinched at the question, before letting out a small sigh at the familiarity of the voice, though she never turned to look at him, instead decided to leave. 

He turned to glance at you when you had ignored him, only for him to panic when you stood up to leave, instinctively reaching over and gripping your wrist he met your cold glare. For once he felt as if being cute was not going to make the cut, that you were not going to ‘act mature’ or ‘overtly understanding’, for once, he was scared. Though his grip never faltered, instead, you heard a meek, “Please,” so soft that if the world around the two of you was not deathly silent, you would’ve missed it. With a sigh you sat back down, but kept your distance, choosing to stare at the empty park, rather than looking at your lover, who was scooting closer to you. You let him, you let him, till his arm brushed against yours, the two of you staring at the empty park together, both waiting for the other to speak- technically you were waiting for an apology, while he was waiting for you to give him the signal to speak, he was too afraid to say anything else which could be more stupid than his last statement.

So, like a pair of fools, the two of you sat there, out in the cold, silently, for god knows how long. Honestly, you were surprised with his patience sometimes, you were also a bit disappointed he chose not to speak, but then again since when was speaking about your feelings his or your strongest trait- oh shit.You gasped when you felt his head drop on your shoulder, suddenly turning to the man, cupping his cold cheeks, as you shook him, “Jongho? Jong? Jongho wake up, come on, this isn’t funny- shit.”

.

With a groan he turned to his side, snuggling closer to the source of the warmth- oh he was back in his bed. HE WAS BACK IN HIS BED?? Sitting up he looked around in the dimly lit room, noting how the door was slightly open, deciding to go outside to look for her when she walked in holding a tray, eying him before mumbling something about laying back down. Honestly, it was difficult for him to process whatever she was saying next…he remembered fainting, well, actually he felt sleepy so he had just closed his eyes for a moment, and right now, he was more amazed by the sheer physical strength this woman possessed. Lord forgive if she were to smack him, he would’ve needed facial reconstructive surgery.

You placed the tray on the nightstand, and turned to him, helping him sit up against the headboard, before checking his temperature with the back of your hand, “You fainted…I called Hongjoong, who then called San…apparently you’re very difficult to carry.” You mumbled, moving to grab the tray, placing it on his lap, “Chicken soup, will help with the congestion and-”

“I’m sorry.”

“You better be.”

He blinked at her and nodded slowly before looking at the soup and staring at it, a moment had slipped before he chuckled, turning to look at her, admiring how she was now sitting on her side of the bed, facing him, “I thought you carried me here- was so scared if you were actually to smack me, I’d pass away.”

“Is this your way of apologising to me? Maybe I should be looking for guys my age or older” you frowned, only to end up snorting when you saw his eyes widen in fear, taking in the way he had stopped eating, staring at you like he was about to explode. Honestly, you wanted to let it simmer for a while, but when he whispered out your name, the way his voice cracked had you sighing in defeat, moving the tray off him and placing it at a safe distance, before you were tackled by him. His arms tightened around you, face buried in your neck as he mumbled something, which you couldn’t make out, but you presumed it was an apology, considering how your neck felt wet- oh no he was crying- well, didn’t mean to take it that far. Gently patting his head you slid down into the sheets, taking him with you, though he didn’t really do anything but hold you closer, his little sniffles making your heart ache.

“It was a joke…” sighing you kissed the top of his head, “I didn’t mean it…but at least now you know how I felt.” 

He pulled back a little to glare at you, “It’s not funny, you can pull anyone you want, I only managed to date you because you tripped.”

“That’s because I fell for you, baby bear-hey!”

“And the moment is gone.” he mumbled, pushing her away and laying on his back, clearing his throat, “Got more sick after that pick up line,” he felt her snuggle next to him as he smiled with his eyes closed, “Even more gross how I like it.”

“You like being sick?”

“Only if it means spending time with you.”

“Oh good, because my head hurts and I can feel the flu comin’ up.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to treat my lady right.”

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Say yes to me

Paring: fem!reader x alpha!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, a/b/o, alpha Nat, omega reader, consensual human trafficking?, sex toys, begging, praise kink, pet names, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie, belly bulges, age gap (obviously)

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

A/N: look who’s back

Masterlist-

You were prepared for once belonging to an powerful alpha, after all you had spent all your upbringing on a farm designed to produce omegas like you. In a world where most of the population either consisted of betas or alphas your kind was especially rare. Which meant there weren’t enough omegas for the alphas and that concluded in the farms like the one you had grew up in. The avengers mostly consisted of alphas, alphas with mates. Tony had Pepper, Clint had Laura and Nat had well no one until now. Tony thought he had been a damn genius when he got the idea what to get Nat for her 40th birthday. Why not get the alpha her very own mate? 

Natasha couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw you, younger, unmated and exactly her type. She was grateful for her gift of course, ever since she got you she had been all over you. Trying to make you hers. Natasha despised the idea by mating you by force so she tried her best to appeal to you. You were surprised by the kindness of the older alpha as she respected your borders and never made you uncomfortable. She’d take you out to dinner, watch your favourite movies and even teach you some martial art. 

You were certain to mate with her after all it wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however you weren’t complaining. You didn’t want her, no, you needed her. Every time you sat down on her lap and let her cock strain in her boxers. You tried to kiss her again and again but it never brought you anywhere. She insisted on waiting until your second heat which one bothered you more after all you hadn’t even had your first. 

"Please Tasha" you whined rolling your hips in anticipation for her. "You know what the farm said mating in your sleeping with an alpha in your first heat only makes it wore" You rolled you eyes sitting up to get a better view of the assassin sitting on the edge of the king sized bed. "I need it, please touch me, please. You begged her. "We can use the toys they gave you for your heat" She prosed, it took everything in her not to mate you right now. 

"Better than nothing" You signed watching Natasha tug off your shorts. She climbed up your body catching your lips in a heated kiss. You released whimpers as she shoved her tongue down her throat. You rocked your hips against hers, crotch on crotch as you tried to get her attention. "Fuck, you're a naughty girl" She groaned kissing down your neck to your chest nibbling on the sensitive skin of your breasts. "Please Tasha, please" you begged her "I'll make it better I promise кроли" Her calling you russian pet names only made you go even more crazy. 

She had you laying on her chest with your back your legs spread over her crotch. One hand played with your breast using it as a sort of stress ball as she paled the sensitive flesh with her veiny hands. The other one held a vibrator to your puffy clit as you buckled your hips desperately against the toy. She had put it on a low setting enough to make you get close to your edge but not enough to actually make you cum. You moaned right in the older woman's ear in an attempted to get her to break her facade and finally mate you. 

After a while of teasing your puffy cunt he decided to finally turn the toy up to give you the sweet release. You threw your head back on her shoulder crying out for a release. "Good girl" She praised you once more turning the device higher. "Come on sweet girl cum for me, cum for your alpha" With a few more rolls of your hips you had your release pressing your face into her neck as you clenched around nothing. Natasha helped you through your first orgasm of the night but you were far from satisfied, you were going to get her to mate with you that day. 

Natasha seemingly not aware of your determination stood up from the bed to get a wash cloth from the bath couldn't believe her eyes when she came back to her bed room. You had placed yourself on her bed on all fours you back arched to present your tripping holes to the older alpha. "Please alpha breed me" You whined your face smushed against the soft pillow. 

"Fuck you're making this hard for me baby girl" she chuckled standing behind you to palm your ass. "Jus' take me this rule is so stupid" you complained, there had been this stupid rule of not mating in your first heat because it should be something every omega should get over with however you couldn't care less. You could hear her unbuckling her belt before hearing the sound  of the zipper going down. She placed herself behind you rubbing two fingers through your slit before pushing them past your tight hole. 

"Fuck you're tighter than I thought but I'll make it fit кролик" She smirked pulling her fingers out again before alining her self behind you. Natasha pushed her hips forward pushing her cock into for weeping hole. She was big, bigger than you thought but after a while her stretch was so delicious you'd never want anything else. After she bottomed you out she waited for your approval to move. Her hands smooth over your lower back and womb feeling a small bump where the head of your cock was whimpering at the feeling of your tight walls behind her. 

"Please, Natty, move" You breathed out anticipating the movement of the older woman. She started to pump her dick in and out your already sensitive cunt. You couldn't help but release sweet whimpers at the fast pace she had she had set. One arm sneaked around your body pulling you up against her chest as she never stopped pounding into you. She released an almost animalistic groan before biting down on your shoulder making you cry out to mark you as her mate.

"Fuck" She groaned into your ear "I'm gonna fuck you pregnant, you'll be tripping with my cum when I'm done with you" "Please Tasha breed me with your pups" You cried out. One of her exercised hands found its way to your overstimulated Clit rubbing the nub.  "Cum, cum with me" She called out before releasing inside of your womb painting the insides white as her knot formed making her slow her movement. That triggered your own orgasm making you see stars. 

She held you close caressing your body and whispering sweet nothings into you ear as she writhe for her knot to disappear. After awhile she pulled out to place you on the soft mattress she took a look between your leg to see your ruined cunt sum tripping out of your abused hole onto the beddings. The sight only made her hard again. "Ready for round 2" 

:)

[no-144444]

smile, even though it's breaking- d.riccardo

Day 15 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: daniel is your older brother's best friend who you can't stand. it's his last race, and your last chance to speak your mind.

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You walked into the paddock with a sigh, knowing what was awaiting you. 

Daniel. 

Daniel had been in your life since before you could talk. He was your oldest brother’s friend, and he was going to be a racecar driver. You’d been in love with him since before you knew what that meant, of course, you’d never admit that. You hated him. You had to hate him. He’d never choose you. He’d always just be family, whatever that meant. 

“Morning,” he smiled. That stupid goofy smile. You wished you could punch him square in his bright white teeth and perfect smile. 

“Morning,” you grunted, moving past him to speak to Yuki. “Good luck today.”

Singapore. You felt guilty about all the speculation, especially when you knew that Liam would be in his seat in Austin. Austin was one of his favourite races. Daniel deserved to race it all one last time. He deserved Las Vegas, he deserved Brazil, he deserved Abu Dhabi. He deserved just one more chance. Maybe that was your heart speaking. You weren’t sure anymore. 

He followed behind you, talking your ear off about something or other. You just tried to ignore it, continue on with your duties, try to stop the way your brain questioned why Heidi wasn’t here. She hadn’t been to a race since Miami at the start of the season.

“Do you ever stop smiling?” you sighed. 

“Only when you’re not around,” he winked at you. “Miss you too much.” 

You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore the way your heart strings pulled at his sentence. “Where’s Heidi?”

His smile dampened. “She and I… broke up. You didn’t know that?”

You abandoned your regular, nonchalant exterior and frowned. “I’m sorry Dan, I didn’t know-”

“Dan?” he grinned. “You haven’t called me that since you were a kid.”

You rolled your eyes, your defences straight back up. “Whatever you say Daniel.”

You continued on after that, somehow losing him in the motorhome. 

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He got the fastest lap. You cried as he crossed the finish line. This was it. It was over. Daniel had raced his last race, finishing with a fastest lap and a testament of his commitment to RedBull. RedBull didn’t deserve him. They never did. If they’d just kept Max in Toro Rosso for one more year, Daniel would probably be a World Champion, and not still chasing a pipe dream from years before. 

You ran to the parc fermé, ready to meet him with open arms. He didn’t get out of the car for a few minutes longer than everyone else, and every driver spent their time giving him a lengthy goodbye. When he climbed out, you ran straight to him, wrapping him up in a tight hug. You didn’t care that he was sweaty, that he would tease you, that there were 30 cameras on you, if not more. 

You cared about him. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, tears falling yet again. “I’m so fucking sorry Daniel. I love you.” 

And fuck, you’d told him. For the first time in years you’d said it, and he knew what it meant. That’s why you didn’t say it to him. You said it with so much emotion, so much love, so much affection. It couldn’t be seen as friendly, or familial. You loved him. You loved the way he laughed, how he smiled, how he treated others, how much he cared. 

You loved him. 

He pulled back, eyes wide. “You mean that?”

You smiled, nodding. 

“Thank fuck,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours. 

Neither of you were thinking about the way you’d explain this to your brother, neither of you were thinking about how the media would respond, neither of you were thinking about how this was Daniel’s last race. You two were finally together. How it should be.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[doll3scent]

★ Pornstar 5 ★

John Price x Cam girl! reader

warnings- 18+ -mdni, jealousy, alcohol, smut, explicit language, somnophilia, choking, angst w/ comfort,

wc. 6k

a/n. this took me forever

4, 5, 6,

master list 𓂃۶ৎ

Ghost had mentioned bringing his team along for your birthday. You and your friends had planned a night out clubbing, and you figured it was only fair to let him invite his mates—no sense in leaving him stuck with a crowd of twenty-somethings all night on his own.

You and John had been texting and meeting up a few more times since that first night. Each encounter carried the same charged secrecy—you kept your mask on, and he played along, pretending he didn’t know exactly who you were.

John feels the weight of guilt every time he interacts with Ghost, especially now that they’re back at base. He can barely look Simon in the eyes anymore, the guilt weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. He knows he’s betraying his friend, and he hates himself for it. But he can’t bring himself to stop seeing you. He’s addicted to you, to the sound of your voice, the feel of your body pressed against his…

John keeps telling himself he’ll end it, that it’s the right thing to do—but he can’t. He’s wanted you for too long. He spent months watching your cam streams, craving what he couldn’t have, and now that you’re his—truly his—he refuses to let go. Especially when you meet up, when the heat of passion fades, and you curl up in his arms afterward. You slip off your mask, resting your head against his chest, trusting him with one condition: he can hold you, but only if he promises not to look. And he never does—he wouldn’t dare break the fragile trust between you.

But the guilt gnaws at him. Every time John sees Ghost, he’s reminded of his betrayal. He’s been keeping this secret from his best mate, lying right to his face. And he knows that someday, this whole thing is going to explode in the worst possible way.

One day on base, as the team was gathered around after a long mission, Ghost cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

“Right, listen up,” he began, his voice steady but with a hint of annoyance. “My sister’s birthday is coming up, and she’s dragging me to a club. You lot can come if you want, I’m not about to spend the night stuck with a bunch of half-naked 20-year-olds who can barely hold their liquor.”

A few of the team members exchanged amused glances. Soap raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Sounds like you need some backup, mate,” he teased.

Ghost shot him a flat look, though there was a slight curve to his lips. “Exactly. Don’t want to be the only old man there with no one to talk to, do I?”

Price leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What’s the plan? We just show up and blend in?”

“Pretty much,” Ghost said with a shrug. “It’s not my ideal night, but it’s for her, so…”

“Hey, if you’re buying, I’m in,” Gaz said, leaning forward with a grin.

Soap snorted. “Buyin’? Please, Ghost probably still thinks a pint costs a fiver.” Ghost shoots him a glare.

John was torn. On one hand, the idea of seeing you gnawed at him—he missed those stolen moments, the secrecy, and the way you felt when you were close. But there was a problem: you still didn’t know that he knew exactly who you were. You kept your distance, acting like he was just some stranger to you, and it killed him.

On the other hand, the thought of being in the same place as you and Ghost, all three of you in close proximity, felt like a ticking time bomb. The guilt, the risk—it was too much. But if he didn’t show up to the club, it would look suspicious. He couldn’t afford that.

Ghost’s voice brought him back from his thoughts. “You coming, Price?”

Price glanced up, meeting Ghost’s gaze. For a moment, he pondered saying no, finding an excuse to skip out. But he knew that would only arouse suspicion. And so he sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come.”

The night of, Price stood in front of the mirror in his room, feeling nervous as he checked his outfit one last time. He tried on a couple different shirts before finally settling on a dark grey button-up and a pair of black jeans. He ran a hand through his hair, frowning at his reflection. For some reason, he felt a strange mixture of anxious and excited. Maybe it was the thought of seeing you or the nerves about pretending he didn’t know who you were. Either way, he took a deep breath and steeled himself.

John stood at the bar with the team, his drink in hand, but his mind was elsewhere. Soap and Gaz were already in the thick of it, eyeing passing girls with shameless grins, their attempts at flirting fluctuating between mildly charming and painfully awkward.

Soap, always the loud one, had just cracked a joke that made a girl giggle-though John couldn't tell if it was from genuine interest or sheer pity. Gaz wasn't much better, leaning in with a smirk, dropping some line that sounded more rehearsed than spontaneous. John nursed a beer, his attention only half-heartedly on the women around him.

“Where’s the birthday girl?” Soap called out to Ghost.

Ghost took a swig of his drink before replying, “She’s always late, wouldn’t be like her if she was on time”. He rolled his eyes but there was a hint of affection in his voice.

A group of girls entered the bar, their laughter ringing out and instantly grabbing the attention of everyone nearby. They wore the skimpiest of dresses, skirts, and shirts—everything designed to make heads turn, and turn they did. Wolf whistles followed them as they made their way through the crowd, including from Soap and Gaz, who were both quick to take notice.

Price couldn’t help but look too, his gaze almost drawn to them instinctively. But then, his eyes locked onto you. His heart skipped a beat, suddenly lodged somewhere in his throat. His grip around his beer tightened, knuckles whitening as he processed the sight before him.

You were standing there, a vision in the crowd. Your outfit hit him like a punch to the gut—like you’d intentionally gone out and found the tiniest pink skirt, slashed it in half, then paired it with a matching corset top that left little to the imagination. Your white patterned stockings and pink heels completed the look, and Price’s stomach twisted with something he couldn’t quite name. His mind raced, trying to pull himself together. It felt like everything in the room had faded away, and all that mattered was the sight of you—so close, so real. And yet, still so far out of reach.

You pranced up to your brother, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug before quickly greeting the rest of his team with a few more hugs. When it was John’s turn, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The moment your arms encircled him, John froze. Every instinct in him screamed to hold you closer, to pull you tight against him, to inhale your scent that lingered on his skin. But he forced himself to stay still, his body rigid as he struggled to keep his composure. His mind raced, trying to focus on anything other than the heat of your body against his.

“Uh—Happy birthday, kid,” he managed, his voice tight, strained as he patted your back awkwardly. He kept his eyes averted, though they betrayed him, roaming over you, taking in every detail of your outfit. His heart hammered in his chest as his mind locked on how little you were wearing. The fabric of your skirt, the curve of your corset top, it all felt like too much—too much for him to handle in this moment. But you, blissfully unaware of his internal battle, pulled back with a smile, completely oblivious to the storm you’d just stirred inside him.

You smile sweetly, batting your lashes up at him in that innocent way you always did, the one that made his stomach twist with something he couldn’t name. “Thank you,” you say, your voice light and playful, unaware of the effect it’s having on him.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach the instant his arms wrapped around you, his warmth seeping into you and making your pulse quicken. The scent of him, so familiar and comforting, only heightened the rush of emotions flooding your senses. You couldn't stop your mind from drifting to the other night-the way his hands had explored your body with such deliberate confidence, every touch igniting something deep inside you.

The memory sent a delicious shiver down your spine, and your cheeks flushed as you unconsciously leaned into his embrace, unable to resist the pull he had over you. He desperately wanted to hold you tighter, to pull you even closer, but he couldn't. Not here, not with Ghost right there, oblivious to the fact that his best friend was secretly sleeping with his younger sister.

Instead, he pulled away reluctantly, forcing a smile onto his face. “You, uh…you look nice,” he murmured. But the words felt hollow in his mouth, inadequate to describe just how beautiful you looked.

You smile softly, your cheeks warming as you thank him sweetly when he says you look nice. He seems so different than usual—nervous and cautious, a far cry from the commanding presence he has with you in private. It’s almost endearing, seeing this side of him, though you can’t blame him. He doesn’t know it’s you he’s been with, the person he’s been pouring his desires into. To him, you’re just another stranger, someone he feels freer with than someone from his real life.

Later in the night, after several rounds of drinks and conversations, your friend group led you to the dance floor, the music loud and vibrant. You and your friends all danced together, laughing and twirling in the rhythm. As the music vibrated through the floor, Price leaned against the wall, half hidden in the shadows, watching you dance with the others, a pang of desire and guilt twisting his stomach.

The music pounded through the walls of the club, the lights illuminating you in a kaleidoscope of colors as you danced with your friends. Price couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching closely as you swayed your hips in time with the music, your movements fluid and captivating. He could feel the desire welling up inside him, his heart hammering against his chest, but he forced himself to stay put. He was playing a dangerous game, and he couldn’t let anyone find out.

He watched as your friends pulled you further into the fray, each of them laughing and smiling, completely unaware of the tension he was feeling. Despite the noise and the chaos, he could only focus on you, the way your body moved, the way your hair fell across your face, the way your skirt rode up slightly as you twisted and turned. His hands ached to touch you, to pull you to him and feel your body pressed against his.

Price tensed as he saw a man approaching you, his eyes narrowing as he observed him. The man looked closer to your age, but still older than you, and the way he looked at you made Price’s stomach churn. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool while his mind raced with thoughts of what this stranger could possibly want with you.

As he watched, the man leaned in and yelled something into your ear, trying to be heard over the music. You responded with a wide smile, nodding at whatever he said, and the sight sent a wave of jealousy through Price. His hands curled into fists, his possessive tendencies taking over as he watched the two of you talk.

The man then reached out and placed his hand on your hip, pulling you a little closer to him as he continued talking into your ear. Price’s jaw was in danger of snapping with how hard he was clenching it. He wanted nothing more than to march over there and rip that man’s hand off of you. But he couldn’t.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in the back of your mind. The man beside you was all smiles, clearly enjoying the moment as you danced and flirted with him, but something nagged at you. You knew it wasn’t right—flirting with someone else when your thoughts were still tangled with John. But then, you reminded yourself: John doesn’t know the cam girl he’s been so captivated by is you. It felt like a small comfort, a boundary you could convince yourself to cross just this once.

It wasn’t like you could openly flirt with your older brother’s captain—especially not in front of him. That was a line you wouldn’t dare cross. Tonight was yours, though. It was your birthday, and you decided you were entitled to a little fun, a little freedom from all the complicated emotions and secrets you were carrying. You pushed the nagging thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the present. The lights, the music, the laughter—it was all a release. For tonight, you could let go.

Price couldn’t bear to watch anymore. Every move you made, every laugh you shared with that man, felt like a knife twisted in his gut. He had no claim on you, he knew that, but the sight of you with another man still sent a surge of jealousy and possessiveness through him.

He took another deep breath, trying to control his breathing, trying to control his emotions. But his mind was filled with thoughts of you and him, the way your body fit against his, the way you cried out for him.

As the night drew to a close, the man next to you, the one who had been flirting with you all night, finally gathered the courage to ask for your number. He leaned in close, his voice slightly slurred with alcohol, as he shouted over the music, “Can I get your number? I really want to see you again.”

Price observed as you giggled, the sound hitting his ears like a physical blow. He felt his heart sink as you reached into your small purse and scribbled your number on a napkin before handing it to the man. He couldn’t stand it, the sight of you giving your number to someone else, not after everything you’d shared together. He had no right to stop you, no right to say anything, but it didn’t make the sight any less painful.

It’s late, past 1am, and you’re sound asleep, wrapped in the comfort of your blankets. Suddenly, your phone rings, jolting you awake. Groggy and disoriented, you fumble for your phone, only to see a number you don’t recognize displayed on the screen. Your heart skips a beat as you answer the call.

“..Hello?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

He grits his teeth, the surge of anger coursing through him, and forces himself to breathe deeply. His fingers curl into fists, but he knows he has to control it—he can’t let you see how badly this is eating at him. You don’t know that he knows who you are, and that’s what he keeps telling himself as the fury swells inside him. He tries to steady his pulse, focusing on the need to stay composed, to not give away how badly he wants to confront everything that’s been eating at him.

The temptation to ask you directly what the hell is going on, to demand answers, is almost unbearable. But he doesn’t. Instead, his voice comes out calm, controlled, though every muscle in his body is tense with the desire to let his anger out.

“Do you want to meet up tonight?” His words feel like they hang in the air between you, and he watches for your response, trying to push past the storm inside him, desperate for some kind of answer.

“Okay” your rub the sleep out of your eyes “I’ll leave the front door unlocked”

His breath hitches slightly at your words, and for a moment, he almost regrets it. But then he reminds himself that this is the only way forward. He needs to see you, to feel that pull again, even if it’s tangled with complications he hasn’t fully worked through yet. “Good,” he mutters, his voice a little rougher than he intends. “I’ll be there soon.”

The call ends abruptly, and as you sit there, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your eyes, the weight of what’s about to happen starts to settle in. You don’t even acknowledge the fact of how he could’ve gotten your number. You know it’s dangerous, know it’s a risk, but your body hums with anticipation. He’s coming. And whatever this thing between you is, it’s about to get a whole lot more complicated. You sit up brushing your hair down, your tie your mask on before sitting on your bed, you then lay down planning on just waiting for John but you promptly fall back asleep.

When John arrives at your house, the night air is cool against his skin, but the anticipation burning in his chest keeps him warm. He stands for a moment at your door, fingers hovering just above the handle. His mind races—thoughts swirling between desire and the heavy weight of the situation. He has no idea how this will go, but he’s already too far gone to turn back now.

He enters silently, closing the door behind him and stepping carefully into the darkened house. The only sound is the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. He can see the soft glow of your bedside lamp peeking through the crack in your door.

He creeps toward your bedroom, finding you curled up in bed, your soft breaths steady and slow. The sight of you, peaceful and unaware of his presence, gives him pause. He watches you for a moment, unsure if he should wake you or just let you sleep. His heart aches at the thought of interrupting your rest, but his body aches with need, the tension in his muscles undeniable.

Gently, he steps closer to the edge of the bed, his eyes tracing the outline of your body beneath the covers. He swallows hard, trying to calm the growing fire inside him. He silently climbs onto the bed between your legs, your sleepy whimpers making his cock harden instantly. “My little girl thinks she can flirt with others and still keep her mask on with me? Not fucking happening." He enters your wet pussy slowly, knowing you’ll wake up to his invasion, without your mask on.

"I saw you, little girl. Flirting with that man like you were some kind of whore." He fucks you harder, his hands gripping your hips painfully. "You're mine, and only mine. No one else gets to see that face or hear those sweet moans." his hands move to your mask, yanking it off without hesitation this time. “I’m done with this fucking mask. I want to see every expression on your face while I fuck you senseless."

"Mmph..." You stir softly, your body automatically arching back as his slow, deep thrusts send waves of pleasure through your sleepy body. You’re large doe eyes flutter open, taking a second to realize what's happening. "Mmh... " he pulls your legs up high onto his shoulders, deepening his thrusts and forcing you to look at him as he stares intensely into you unmasked face. "Who's bed is this? Who's arms are you supposed to be sleeping in?" His voice is low, almost a growl, pulling you from the haze of sleep.

You blink slowly, still groggy, his words swirling in your mind as you try to piece them together. “…Yours,” you mumble softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stir awake, the warmth of his presence settling over you. He continues rhythmically thrusting, pulling you closer and covering your mouth with his own, one hand firmly holding the back of your neck to keep you in place. “Mmph..." The kiss deepens, passionate and claiming - not allowing you to speak or register that your mask is gone.

He hooks your legs around his waist, changing the angle. His thick length hits you deep spots, making you moan softly and arch your back. "Baby..." He pulls back an inch to look at you again. Your lips are swollen from his kiss, your eyes half-lidded with sleep and pleasure. He slides a hand down to your side, possessively grabbing one of your thighs. He Spreads your legs wider, watching himself slide in and out of your tight heat. He's unconsciously addicted to the view.

"You're so fucking tight and wet for me, baby girl." He growls, his voice low and husky as he increases Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, his words sending a shiver down your spine. He smirks, his lips finding yours again, this time softer, slower, but no less consuming. his pace. His hand on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your soft skin. “I could stay buried in this little pussy all day."

"You know what I love most?" He asks in a hushed whisper, slowing his hips again to tease you. “Watching your face when I hit this sweet spot just right." He purposely angles himself to rub against your G-spot, making you whimper softly. “But fuck..."

His mind flashes back to earlier that night, seeing you laughing and smiling at that man. He can feel his anger building, his body tensing as he remembers. He pulls out slightly, his hands gripping your thighs painfully. “But you know what i didn’t love?” he wraps his hand around your throat. “Seeing you prance around with that man” he squeezes

"You think you can just flirt with other men and ignore me? You think you can wear a mask and pretend to be mine, but then go out there and act like a fucking whore?" He spits out the words, his voice cold and angry as he pushes your legs wider apart. His eyes darken dangerously as one hand wraps around your throat, applying gentle pressure. He continues thrusting roughly, using his superior strength to hold you down. “You want another man's cock that badly?" He growls, tightening his grip slightly more. “Fucking answer me."

His hand on your throat squeezes just a bit more, cutting off your airflow completely. You can only manage a weak, muffled "n-no" before he finally releases his grip, allowing you to gasp for air. “Good” He hisses, resuming his rough fucking.

Your mind spins, wild and frantic, as his words tear through the air between you. The sharp edge of his tone cuts deep, each syllable laced with anger, jealousy, and something far more possessive than you'd ever anticipated. "You think I didn't know?" he growls, his hips snapping forward with a force that leaves you gasping. "Think I wouldn't recognize you, even with that little mask on? I've always known, Angel."

The weight of his confession crashes over you, leaving you breathless and disoriented. He's always known. Every time he spoke your name in that low, commanding tone, every filthy word he growled through the screen— he knew it was you. The realization sends a flood of heat through your body, but it's quickly overshadowed by the intensity of his thrusts, each one driving his frustration and jealousy into you. “And tonight," he continues, his voice rough and unforgiving, "you really thought l'd stand there and watch you let another man put his hands on you? Let him look at you like he had a chance?"

"I didn't-" you try to explain, your voice shaky, but he cuts you off with another harsh thrust, his grip on your hips bruising as he holds you in place beneath him.

"Don't lie to me," he snaps, his dark eyes boring into yours as he leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "I saw you, Angel. Saw you dancing, letting him get close to what's mine." His words hit you like a physical blow, a dizzying mix of shame and arousal surging through your veins. You can feel his anger in the way he moves, in the unrelenting pace of his thrusts, as though he's determined to erase the memory of anyone else from your mind and body.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice low and dangerous, "and don't you dare forget it." His hand slides up to your throat, his grip firm but controlled as he forces you to look at him. The intensity in his eyes is overwhelming, a storm of emotions that leaves you speechless.

"I've been patient," he says, his tone rough and filled with barely restrained fury. "I let you keep your little secret, let you play your games. But now?" He thrusts into you harder, pulling a broken gasp from your lips. "Now, you don't get to pretend anymore. I know exactly who you are, and you're not going anywhere."

The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, your body trembling as you struggle to process everything. He's always known, and yet he let you believe you were in control, let you think you were safe behind your mask. But now, there's no hiding, no escaping the truth-or him. “Say it," he demands, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your pulse race. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you whisper, your voice barely audible as his dominance consumes you completely. "Good," he growls, his lips brushing against your ear as his pace quickens. "Because I'm going to make damn sure you never forget it again." He feels a savage satisfaction at your whispered acknowledgment, his grip loosening slightly on your throat as he continues his brutal pace. Each forceful thrust is a stake driven into the earth, claiming you utterly. “That's right, Angel. You belong to me. Every fucking inch of you."

His anger still simmers just beneath the surface, His hand releases your throat, moving to caress your cheek “Weeks, Angel. Weeks of wearing that damn mask, keeping your face from me. But you had no problem flashing those pouty lips and batting your eyelashes at that stranger, did you?"

“Im sorry daddy-“

His expression darkens at the apology, his voice dropping to a low, menacing growl. “Sorry? Sorry doesn't cut it, Angel. You thought you could play me for a fool, hide behind a mask and flirt with other men right in front of me."

“I didn’t mean it..”

He cuts you off with a harsh laugh, his free hand reaching up to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. "You didn't mean it? You didn't mean to make me jealous, to make me watch you give attention to someone else?"

With a sudden, powerful movement, he flips them over so that you’re now on top, straddling his hips. He sits up, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulls you down onto his length with a forceful thrust. "But you know what, Angel?" He smirks wickedly, his hands sliding up your sides to momentarily rest just beneath your breasts. "Maybe I ought to flirt with some women my own age, hm? Show you what it feels like to watch someone else get attention." He leans back slightly, looking up at you with mock consideration.

He chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating through your body as he keeps his relentless rhythm, each thrust leaving you breathless.

The amusement in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, though it's laced with something darker, something possessive.

"Just imagine it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as he arches an eyebrow, his pace never faltering.

"Me, charming some gorgeous, mature woman right in front of these pretty eyes. Someone who'd appreciate a real man— someone who doesn't need games or masks." His words cut through the haze of pleasure and guilt, his deliberate taunt igniting a fiery mix of jealousy and desperation within you.

He's punishing you, making sure you feel the sting of his jealousy just as much as he felt yours.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your mind spinning as he drives into you with purpose, his hips slamming against yours in a rhythm that's as intoxicating as it is punishing. The thought of him with someone else, of him turning his attention away from you, burns hotter than you can bear.

"Is that what you want, Angel?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous as he leans down, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. "Someone else getting what's yours? Watching while I ruin her the way I ruin you?"

You shake your head frantically, your voice trembling as you gasp, "No... no, I don't want that."

His grin widens, wicked and satisfied, as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur. "That's what I thought," he says, his thrusts growing deeper, harder, his dominance pressing down on you like a weight you can't escape.

One hand moves up to grip your jaw possessively, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he continues his powerful thrusts. “You should see your face right now, Angel. Those big doe eyes, realizing you fucked up." His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You look like you might cry, sweetheart. Like you might beg me to stay away from those other women." He leans in closer, his breath hot against your mouth.

“i’m sorry daddy..”

His eyes flash with a cold, calculating light as he hears the whispered "daddy." He pulls back slightly, his hands tightening on your jaw and hips. “You're too little, you know that? Too young to keep a man like me interested." You let out a sad whimper.

He smirks cruelly, his hips bucking upwards again. "See, you're making those sad little noises because you think I'm going to leave you for someone older, mature, more... suitable." He punctuates each word with a harsh thrust.

His eyes glitter with a cruel amusement as he watches the anguish play across your face. "Is that what you're afraid of, sweetheart? That I might find someone more woman than girl?" His thumb presses down harder on your lip, forcing it to tremble.

His smirk softens slightly, but the dangerous edge remains in his voice. “Tell me, Angel... would you miss Daddy? Would you miss these hands? This cock?" He deliberately grinds against you, hitting that sensitive spot again. "Or would you find someone else?"

Your eyes widen at his question, a flash of jealousy and possessiveness crossing your features. You clench tightly around him, your arms reaching back to wrap around his neck possessively. “N-no! I only want you, daddy..”

He growls low in his throat, the sound of satisfaction and dominance. His hands tighten on you, fingers digging into soft flesh as he begins to pound into you mercilessly. "Only me, is it? My little Angel, so possessive, so jealous..."

With each powerful thrust, he bounces you on his cock like a rag doll, his massive hands gripping you hips with bruising force. The wet slap of your bodies meeting echoes obscenely through the room along with your tiny squeals. "Fuck, look at you trembling on my dick”

He leans forward, his muscular torso pressing against your bouncing breasts as he growls into your ear. "You've got me fucking wild, you know that? Jealous little thing, clinging to my cock like it's your lifeline."

You shiver at his words, your pussy fluttering and tightening around his length. You turn your head to the side, nuzzling into his neck submissively. "Y-yes, daddy... I'm your jealous little slut... Only yours..."

His eyes roll back slightly as your words send a jolt of pleasure through him. He bites down on your neck, marking you as his, as he continues to rut into you with animalistic abandon. "Fucking right you are..."

Your vision starts to blur as he continues to claim you, his cock pounding into your overstuffed pussy, his teeth marking your skin. Your completely lost in the moment, your mind consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being filled and bred by him.

As your vision blurs, he looks down at you, his face twisted in a feral grimace of pleasure. "Look at you, fucking lost in it, aren't you? My little Angel, so small and tight, taking Daddy's big cock like the good little slut she is."

You can't even form a coherent response, your mind blanked by the intense pleasure. All you can do is cling to him, your body shaking and trembling as he continues to fuck you. "Mmmmph... D-daddy...”

He reaches one hand up to roughly squeeze your bouncing tits, his thumb and forefinger twisting your nipple cruelly. "Stupid slut, who fucking owns this pussy? Who's fucking you into oblivion?" His hips slam up brutally, driving his massive cock deep.

You wail, your body convulsing around him as he twists your sensitive nipple. You look up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes rolled back into your head. “Y-you... Daddy, only you..”

He growls triumphantly, fucking you even harder at your submission. “That's right, baby girl. Daddy fucking owns this cunt. Look at you falling apart on my cock..." His other hand moves between their bodies, pressing firmly against your clit.

Your whole body seizes up as he rubs your clit, the overwhelming stimulation pushing you over the edge. “DADDY!!" you scream, your pussy clamping down violently on his cock as you cum hard, your juices gushing out around his cock.

He groans loudly as your orgasm makes your pussy squeeze his length like a vice. He spreads your thighs wider, pounding into you non-stop. "Jesus Christ, Angel. You're squirting all over Daddy's dick..."

His voice becomes ragged with lust as he continues to fuck through your orgasm, completely losing control. "Fuck fuck fuck... You're a filthy little mess... Look how you creamed Daddy's cock...” His breathing turns heavy, animalistic "You're making me fucking cum...” With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, his thick length pulsing as he begins to fill your womb with his hot, sticky seed. "FUCK, Angel!" he roars, his face contorting in pure ecstasy. "Take Daddy's fucking cum!"

You throw your head back, as you feel his hot seed filling your insides, your body greedily accepting his release. You moan softly, "Yes, Daddy... Breed me~”

He collapses forward slightly, still holding your hips tight as his cock continues to twitch, depositing every last drop of his seed. “Dirty little slut... look what you made me do... I’m fucking you full of cum...”

He slowly pulls out of you, watching as his thick, creamy seed spills out of your well-fucked hole. He smirks darkly, knowing he's marked you as his. "Look at that pretty little pussy, all stretched out and full of Daddy's cum. You're a mess, Angel. My dirty, fucked out little whore." He reaches down to spread your lips apart, showing off your leaking entrance. "This is what you are for me, sweetheart."

You nod, dazed and your mind foggy. He lays you on the bed before going to your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet cloth to clean you. He returns to the bedroom, his expression softening slightly as he approaches the bed where you lay sprawled and dazed. Kneeling between your thighs, he gently presses the warm, damp cloth against your overly sensitive pussy, cleaning you up.

After thoroughly cleaning you, he tosses the cloth aside and lies down beside you, pulling you into his strong arms. He holds you close, your head resting on his chest as he wraps a thick, muscular arm around you waist, keeping you snuggled against him.

“…You knew the whole time?” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of shock and disbelief woven into your words.

He stills for a moment, his hips pressed against yours, his weight grounding you beneath him. His heart beats a little faster, though his expression remains calm, composed. He looks down at you, his intense gaze piercing through your surprise as if daring you to question him further.

“Yes, Angel,” he says, his voice steady but low, laced with an edge of dominance that makes your stomach flip. “I knew. From the moment I first saw you, I recognized those big, innocent eyes. And when I heard your voice…” His thumb brushes lightly against your cheek, almost tender in contrast to the firm hold of his other hand on your hip. “I knew exactly who you were.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your mind racing to process his confession. All this time, you thought you were hidden behind the safety of your mask, your anonymity protecting you. But he had known—it was you, always you.

“Then why…” Your voice falters as you try to form the words, your cheeks burning with both embarrassment and the weight of his unwavering gaze.

“Why didn’t I say anything?” he finishes for you, his lips quirking into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His tone softens slightly, though it’s no less intense. “Because I wanted you to come to me willingly. I wanted you to need me the way I need you, Angel. And you did. You gave yourself to me, completely, without even knowing it.”

His words leave you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. His hand trails down to your jaw, tilting your face upward so you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“And now,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against yours, “there’s no going back. You’re mine, Angel. You’ve always been mine.”

His lips crash against yours, swallowing the gasp that escapes you as his hand tightens on your jaw. The kiss is anything but gentle— it's heated, desperate, and possessive, like he's staking his claim on you in a way words never could.

You melt beneath him, your hands instinctively reaching up to grasp his shoulders, your fingers digging into the firm muscle as he deepens the kiss. His tongue slides against yours, commanding and insistent, leaving no room for hesitation or second-guessing.

The world outside fades away, the only thing grounding you to reality being the feel of his body pressed against yours and the relentless intensity of his kiss. When he finally pulls back, just enough to let you breathe, his forehead rests against yours, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that leaves you trembling.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice rough, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

"Say it."

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm yours," you whisper, your voice unsteady but sincere.

He smirks, his lips finding yours again, this time softer, slower, but no less consuming.

The kiss is deliberate, his every movement a reminder of the power he holds over you— and the hold you clearly have over him.