#As I said before - people will talk and talk and talk and say nothing at all

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 3 | masterlist

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It’s not unusual for someone to mistake you for the baby’s mama.

How could someone not, at least for a moment? When you take the baby to the grocery store, older people gush over him babbling in his stroller, eager to shower him with compliments in baby-talk or tell you how much you resemble the little tyke. After hearing the same comment for the umpteenth time, you tire of correcting people by saying you’re the babysitter only to watch their face fall, somewhat mortified and feeling as though their comment should’ve been directed to the baby’s actual mother. Which isn’t you. 

It’s less typical for someone to mistake you for John’s wife, though that does happen from time to time.

You’ve become a fixture around the neighbourhood since John hired you at the beginning of the summer, and over the weeks, the other nannies and the stay-at-home moms have started to gradually warm up to you. Before long, you’re being invited on coffee runs and playdates with some of the other women, always careful to ask for John’s permission before bringing his baby into a stranger’s house.

“Just text me the address and their names,” he requests while you stand awkwardly in front of him, John sitting on the bed to finish buttoning up his shirt and fixing his watch around his wrist. You would’ve been fine standing on the other side of the door while he finished changing, but he insisted on inviting you in.

“I will,” you promise, nodding along with his words.

“And call me if you don’t feel comfortable. I’ll come get the two of you right away if you need me.”

You swallow. Nod again.

The first time you take the baby for a playdate with a couple of the moms from the park, one catches you in the act of texting John the address of the house as he requested. “Hubby wants to know where you are, huh?”

“Oh,” you choke out, face heating up. “He’s not—”

“Not a control freak, I know. They’re all like that.” Her smile is ebullient, rolling her eyes like you’re in on a joke together when you most assuredly are not. “Why don’t you share your location with him? Mine’s the same way. Here—I’ll show you how.”

She takes your phone and tap-taps something and suddenly you see it in the notifications of your conversation with John. If you bite your lip instead of correcting her assumption about the nature of your and John’s relationship, that’s for you and you alone to know. Your rationale is that any explanation will just make things tense; it’s not like you haven’t seen it happen before. 

It’s far more concerning when John doesn’t correct those assumptions. Particularly when you’re standing right next to him. 

Like at the local water park on a particularly hot weekend, wading in the kiddy pool with the baby nestled tight against your chest in his little swim trunks and floppy hat only for an employee to ask John if his wife would like something to drink. 

“Iced coffee, love?” John asks, taking your stupefied silence as a yes. “Nothing for me, mate. Cheers.” 

Your head spins like a top on that thought until a good while later. The server hands you a glass of iced coffee with condensation already dripping down the sides and John thanks him for you, taking the baby from you and pulling you to his side. You drink your coffee quietly with your thigh flush with his under the water, gripping the glass harder when his free hand squeezes around your waist, laughing at something another parent said to him.

It’s so over for you. There’s no coming back from this. 

The sight of someone of John’s size, a bulky, military man with arms of pure steel dusted with dark hairs, cradling a tiny, chubby baby with a thatch of similar dark hair on his head and big cheeks and roly poly arms unlocks something primal in you. An old, buried need. 

In the family changing room, you stand under an ice cold shower until it breaks the fever slowly consuming you. All you can do is hope it takes. 

In the evening, you sit out on the porch with John at the back of the house until the crickets swell with song, the moon a half-crescent in the sky. A cool breeze makes your shoulders lift a little, huddling into your body to keep warm. 

It’s hard to keep your eyes on the view in front of you and off the man sitting beside you when they want so badly to be running over him. He’s changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of sweatpants and an old threadbare shirt, the sage green fabric faded after years of being run through the washing machine. It clings to his biceps and the soft pudge of his stomach, a layer of fat over the hard muscle beneath. 

A cigarette dangles from his fingers, thick wrist perched on the arm of the adirondack chair. Every so often he lifts it to his lips for a puff, always breathing out in the opposite direction from you. Considerate of your health, at least, if not his own. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” he asks before ashing his cigarette, and your bottom lip purses when you turn your head to look at him because you thought you were doing a good job suppressing your shivers. 

You stare at him, confused. He cocks an eyebrow at your questioning stare and deliberately glances down, waiting until you notice the way your nipples are protruding through your white tank top. You forgot that you’d taken your bra off earlier for a bit of relief and hadn’t yet had a chance to put it back on. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak, crossing your arms to hide as much as possible, humiliation flooding through you. “I’m so sorry—that’s so—I-I’m so sorry.”

John makes a rough sound when he rises to his feet, knees cracking as he does. “S’alright, hun. Lemme get you something to put on.”

The screen door creaks when he goes back inside briefly to fetch something only to come back a few seconds later with a big, cotton sweater that reeks of him. It looks well loved, some remnant of his younger years, and even from a distance, you can smell the distinct smoky aroma clinging to the fabric. 

When he kneels in front of you, you nearly go cross-eyed at the realisation that even on his knees, he’s as tall as you. The bulk of his waist forces your legs to spread around him. 

“C’mon, arms up,” John commands, barely waiting until you’ve raised your arms above your head before helping guide your head and arms into the right holes. 

Dragging the sweater down the way he does forces it to rub over your nipples, sending a shock through you. If you had any less self-control, your teeth might actually chatter together. 

“There we go,” he says, fluffing out the sweater around your waist before resting his hands on the tops of your thighs, the gesture coming so naturally to him that you doubt he’s even noticed the placement of his hands. “Much better. That’ll warm you up.”

He isn't wrong. You’ve already worked up a sweat. 

Late night rain.

It comes down in buckets, a dark slate rapping hard against the window pane. A bolt of lightning flickers across the horizon off in the distance. White striations across an otherwise dark sky. About thirty seconds later, thunder rumbles. 

You peek from between the blinds, chewing your lip nervously. You’ve never driven in rain this bad, but with supper done and the dishes washed, there’s no excuse for you to stay any longer. Still, the rain comes down so heavily that despite your timidity, you briefly contemplate asking John if you can stay a little longer. At least until it lets up a bit; until your headlights won’t blind you reflecting off the puddles on the drive home. 

Someone else pulls the blinds further apart.

“There’s no way in hell you’re going out in that,” John says from behind you, practically growling his words. Daring you to contradict him. 

You glance over your shoulder to find him right there at your back, staring out the window. He’s so close that you can smell the red sauce on his flannel from dinner and make out the flecks of grey in his beard that are almost masked by the darker hairs. 

“It’s not…that bad…”

“Sweetheart, don’t piss me off,” he warns.

The blinds shuttle back together with a clatter when you finally let go of them. 

“I could—I could take the couch,” you offer. 

“Sweetheart,” John sighs, looking down at you meaningfully.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“I’m not gonna take the big, comfy bed and leave you with the couch.” When you open your mouth to protest, he cuts you off. “And don’t even try arguing. I won’t hear it.”

There’s not much you can say to dissuade him after that. The furrow of his brow lets you know he’s made up his mind; no ifs, ands, or buts. Besides, there’s a not-so-secret part of you that’s relieved that you don’t have to drive home in this weather. You’re an average driver on a good day. You don’t need your last moments before shuffling off this mortal coil to involve hydroplaning on the highway before ramming into the guardrail. 

John gives you a shirt of his to change into for after your shower, which you spend far too long in, scrubbing your body with his shower gel and quivering under the warm water. When you pull it on, you bring the collar up to your nose to smell. The same patent smoky scent, musky like ambergris and leather. Intoxicating. It makes the blood rush through your ear like a conch shell, the ocean swirling behind your eardrum. 

You hadn’t asked for underwear, content at first to keep on the same pair, but after your shower, you cringe at the thought of putting your day-old panties back on. Besides, his shirt is long enough to cover anything indecent. 

He sits on the edge of the bed when you come out, the concern on his brow melting away at the sight of you. 

“Practically a dress on you, isn’t it?” John says, voice a little wondrous. His eyes drag over you, tip to toe. 

You fiddle with the ends of it. “…Are you sure you want me to take the bed?” 

“Wouldn’t be fair. It’s yours for the night.” His lips quirk up at the corners when you frown. “Don’t worry about me—I’ve slept in worse places before.”

“Like where?” you ask dubiously.

“Tents. Abandoned buildings. Shacks. In the back of a moving van a few times. You wouldn’t believe half the places we used to make camp. Definitely no place for pretty girls like you.”

His condescending tone vaguely annoys you, but it’s hard to dig into your irritation when he thumbs the edge of the shirt you’re wearing and you realise that he’s just a few raised inches away from noticing that you don’t have any panties on. You should’ve just put your old ones back on, but it’s far too late now. 

You clear your throat instead. “We could…um…we could share.” 

You don’t know what possesses you to offer to share the bed, but the words are already gone, out of your mouth and in the air. John cocks an eyebrow.

“Unless you don’t want to,” you amend. 

“Don’t know about that, sweetheart,” he rasps. “…I snore like a bear.”

“That’s okay. I’m a pretty deep sleeper.”

John scrutinises you a bit longer, looking for any sign of hesitancy. You know he’d squash your offer in a second if he found any wariness in your gaze. 

“Alright,” he finally concedes, letting go of your shirt and slapping his thighs. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you wake up and can’t fall back asleep because of my snoring.”

After his shower, during which you lie on your side facing away from the bathroom door, stomach fraught with nerves as you consider the fact that he’s naked in the ensuite, you hear him come out and rummage around in the dresser for a change of clothes. You lie beside him with your stomach twisted in knots, your hands shoved under the pillow and staring resolutely at the wall. 

The appropriateness of sleeping in the same bed beside your boss isn't lost on you, but you're too far into this now.

The bed dips when he settles onto the other side, and the sudden absence of light when he switches the bedside lamp off nearly makes you cheep. 

He breathes heavily, you notice, particularly when he finally falls asleep. It’s a deep, rumbling sound—not entirely unlike a bear, though you can’t really confirm that for certain seeing as how you’ve never slept beside a bear before. 

Those are the thoughts that would signal the approach of sleep if you weren’t soon to be engulfed by it. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, you wake up to a rough hand stroking your back leisurely. There’s a hard chest under you, your cheek propped up on a pillowy pec that rises and falls with his breaths. Sleep bobs around in you like a toulouse decanter. You struggle to keep an eye open, certain that there’s something you need to tend to, but then his hand slides down your back again to curve over your rump and sleep drags you back down. 

You wake up again to your breath wafting back into your mouth, your face shoved into the crook of a man’s neck. Humid, hot. You’re lipping at the skin of his neck, little tongue darting out to lap up a bead of sweat, salty on your tongue. 

Your cunt pulses against his leg, toes curling when John drags his hand up your thigh and hitches it higher up around his waist. 

“Baby?” he groans, his voice still rusty from sleep. The sound is a rough burr up your spine. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Couldn’ get comfy.”

“You hot?” he asks.

The denial on the tip of your tongue slips back down your throat when he plants his foot on the bed and draws his leg up, pressing the meat of his thigh into your throbbing sex. 

“Here, lemme help you—” he groans, reaching down to ruck up your shirt, dragging it up over your breasts and helping manoeuvre your arms out of the holes. It gets tossed off the bed onto the floor. 

Now your breasts are flat on his chest, smushed against his ribcage. It registers somewhere in the back of your head as inappropriate, but sleep pushes that thought away, focusing instead on the discomfort of moving around when you just want to settle back down and go back to bed. 

It must be the heat making you act this way. 

“Shit—sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, shifting under you. “M’hot too.”

He plants a hand on your ass and heaves you up his chest, giving him enough room to wiggle out of his boxers. It pushes your breasts right into his face, your nipples mere inches from his mouth. When his tongue pokes out to wet his upper lip, it nicks your pebbled nipple. 

A hard length presses against your butt when you’re slid back down, the tip wet when it catches against your skin. 

“Jus’ ignore it, sweetie,” John mumbles, petting a hand down your back. 

You lie like that for a while, splayed over his body. Want simmering just under your skin. Flustered and exhausted all at once, sleep-drained; not a drop of strength in your muscles. 

The heat is just—

Scorching. Dizzying. You feel featherbrained, slipping in and out of sleep, biting off the whimpers that threaten to crawl up your throat when John tucks his hands into the crevice of your thighs to wrench them apart, spreading them around his hips again. 

Distantly, you remember that the man under you is at least twenty years your senior. Your employer at that. A man now palming your butt, sinking his fingers into the flesh and rumbling low in his throat. 

It’s wrong—flagrantly wrong. You know that you should say something, that you should get up and tell him that you’re going to sleep on the couch instead. But your tongue is too thick for your mouth. And your thoughts are a sticky paste. The pulse between your thighs empties out all the common sense from your head. 

His palms are slick on your skin. 

Your breathing grows shallow when a hard length suddenly pushes between your thighs as well. 

When the mushroomed head nudges at your opening, you flinch, heart thumping ferociously against your chest. 

“John—John—” you breathe, panicked. As if to warn him. As if he weren’t planting both feet on the bed and lifting his hips. 

As if it wasn’t his hands, warm on your waist, dragging you down onto the shaft spearing into you. 

Your blood is molten hot in your veins. Sticky hands and sticky fingers curl into his chest hair. Your head thumps against his pecs, too weak to hold it up, lipping at the damp skin of his chest. 

“It hurts—” you bleat, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. 

“I know, baby, I know,” John pants. He draws his hips back just to press forward again, deeper this time. Filling you up more than before. “I’m sorry, baby—I can’t, it’s just…too good. Shit.”

Resolve in tatters. Shattered like his willpower, like his determination not to fuck the girl twenty years his junior sleeping beside him in his bed. 

His hips pump up into yours, bouncing you in his lap. Each thrust plunging his cock deeper into your pussy. It’d be painful if you weren’t so wet, but you’re dripping, arousal making you leak around his shaft and slickening his way. 

Sleep still rattles around in your brain, but not even the fog of sleep can shake the ever intensifying realisation that you’re fucking your boss. No two ways around it—breasts naked against his hirsute chest; pussy wet and stuffed to the hilt with a big dick. Knocked senseless by it. 

The veins of his cock drag over the viscid walls of your cunt with every thrust. He must like the involuntary noises you make because he loses his rhythm when you cry out, growling out a string of unintelligible curses. His body feels bigger like this somehow, biceps and forearms bulging where they’re wrapped around your waist, hips forcing your legs to spread wide around him, the ache sinking deep into your muscle, into your bones.  

When you look up at him, his eyes are more hooded than usual, the blue of his irises so dark that they’re almost black. 

“Such a good girl,” he grunts, big arms like steel bands around your waist, holding you tight to his chest so you have nowhere to run. “Jus’ let…jus’ let daddy come and—oh Christ, fuck, fuck…—jus’ lemme come and we’ll go back to bed, okay, sweetie?”

“I’m gonna…” you pant, trailing off when he gets a little rough, pumping harder up into you. The sound of your pussy squelching around his length makes your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open. 

“Yeah, yeah, you—you come too, baby. Jus’ need to take the edge off, both of us.”

You squeal when he reaches a hand down to dig his fingers into your butt cheek and it makes you tense up, walls tightening around his dick. One well-placed swat hard enough to make the flesh of your ass jiggle and you come, clenching up so tight that his next few thrusts are slowed by your spasming walls, forcing him to really cram his cock into your hole. 

“Christ, that’s cute,” John growls, his pupils blown out. 

It hurts to come that hard; makes your belly cramp up and everything. Whatever gibberish spills from your mouth gets lost in the aftermath. 

That’s when the temperature goes from hot to blistering. The muscles of his thighs tense, straining with his impending release. Even his grip around your waist gets tighter, his self-control steamrolled under his approaching climax, oblivious to the way you squeal and squirm when it threads the delicate needle of being too much. 

“Sorry, baby,” he apologises, voice treading gravel. “M’gonna mess your pussy up a bit—”

“Wait—wait—” you gasp, trying fruitlessly to lift yourself up, his arms keeping you pinned tight to his chest. “You’re gonna—John, you’re gonna come inside me—”

His hips thrust up hard at your words, one last rough pump that has him digging his heels into the mattress and clenching his jaw, the veins in his neck protruding. You feel it flood inside you, hot spurts of cum right up against your womb. He curses when he comes, eyelids sliding shut, lost in the sensation of emptying himself into you. 

A few last, punishing thrusts that make your teeth clack together. More heat spurting into you. A murmured oh fuck before his legs slide back down the bed, spreading out over the mattress. 

The blanket is somewhere at the foot of the bed, all scrunched up and nearly dangling off the edge. You only start to shiver when the sweat on your back finally begins to cool. 

When he pulls you off his cock, you whimper, a hot flash snaking through you. Oh Christ did he plug you up good. Stringy, viscous cum leaks from your hole, leaving a little puddle on his thigh when you slide off his chest and to the side a bit. 

“Oh baby,” he tuts softly, reaching between your legs to feel where you’re wet and a little swollen. “Sorry, sweetheart…wanna get cleaned up?”

“No…” you rasp, so dazed that you can’t even lift your cheek off his chest. 

Exhaustion has never ridden you this hard before, but considering the circumstances…—perhaps you’re lucky to be conscious at all, is all you mean. There’s not a chance of you having enough energy to do anything as rigorous as showering though. 

“Okay, baby. Little kiss?” John asks in a murmur, lifting your head up by your chin and swooping down for a kiss. Not even giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth is on yours. 

His lips glide slick against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth like he needs a good, deep kiss to ground him. A wet twisting of tongues; a thick finger stroking up your neck. He can’t stop touching you. Running a hand up your spine and curving it back down over your ass. Featherlight touches meant to calm you down. His kisses grow sticky, lingering; each one almost the last until he pulls you in for another. 

“Go back to sleep, okay?” John says, still speaking low enough to push you back under. He smooths his hand down your back again. 

You fall back asleep with a load in your belly and your head in a tizzy. The you of tomorrow is going to have a lot to contend with from the you of tonight.

[mrsriddlenott]

~Teach Me, Please~

Bsf!JJ Maybank x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: oral(m&f receiving), bit of a handjob, praise kink, spit kink, innocent reader but she’s lowkey in control, reader kinda gets bullied in the beginning but not directly. Not proofread.

{masterlist}

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“She’s like their little sister,” you heard the kook girl you didn’t recognize laugh as she spoke about you, “She follows them around like a groupie, JJ most of all. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with what she has, I would be flirting non-stop if I was with him as much as she is. JJ is absolutely delicious.”

“I think they’ll always be just friends,” her equally annoying friend giggles, the pair clearly not noticing you behind them or simply not caring, “I mean look at how innocent she is, I doubt she would know how to please him if she had the chance. She has literally never had a boyfriend, she probably has never given head in her life and JJ gets around a lot he has plenty of better options. Hell he probably doesn’t pay enough attention to even notice her raging crush on him anyway. You should definitely go for it tonight, I’ve heard he’s good.”

You huffed, stomping off back towards the couch you had left JJ on. What annoyed you the most wasn’t the shit talking, you knew people talked, especially kooks who somehow had nothing better to do. What hurt was the accuracy. Despite being the same age as your fellow pogues, and knowing JJ and JB since the third grade, you were still very much innocent. Especially when compared to your ragtag group of friends.

You knew they didn’t mind, they all loved you no matter what. Kie helped you as much as she could but it was pointless, you just didn’t know how to be as laid back as them. You had fun and loved to party as much as they did, but you still preferred a nice night in with a movie. And while part of you used to worry you held them back, they made sure you knew you could always come to them. So when you saw JJ wave you back over with a questioning look in his eyes you knew you could ask him to help you with anything.

And your crush on him had totally and absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

“Will you teach me how to give a blowjob?” You blurt out, dropping onto the couch infront of JJ’s outstretched arm as though everything was normal. He gagged on the gulp of beer he’d just taken before looking to you with wide eyes, trying to decipher if he heard you properly.

“What’d you jus’ say?” His voice was breathless as he wiped his face of spilt beer, your eyes tracing the droplets that escaped down his neck.

“I want you to teach me how to give good head.” You stated, stretching the words to make your intentions clear. You watched JJ’s eyes bounce between your eyes and lips, the gears in his brain working overtime to decide if you were joking or not.

“Like- uh.” JJ starts, his voice strained while he needlessly wipes his mouth again, spreading his legs on the coach and making room for himself and letting his knee touch yours, “Like on what though.” He arches his eyebrow to look at you, not wanting to be presumptuous but wanting nothing more than to help you directly.

JJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you like that a million times. He wanted you, he just never admitted it out loud because he thought you deserved better. He messed around and acted out while you and John B cleaned up after him but over the years he started to notice a distinct difference in his feelings for Jonh B compared to those he had for you. However, he decided long ago he wouldn’t act on any of them unless you did first, he couldn’t risk ruining you because you were just so good.

“On you Jay, come on don’t make me feel weird about it.” The whining tone of your voice makes JJ bite his lip, unsure if this was ethical. JB would surely frown upon this and Kie would probably kill him for corrupting you. But he was having a hard time fighting the urge now as you looked up to him with pleading eyes.

“Well I don’t wanna take advantage of you or anything, y’know?” He stutters over his words slightly as he fumbles to find anything to say, making you giggle in that way he loves so much. You had never once seen JJ flustered or worried about a girl asking to suck him off and you honestly couldn’t believe it was you who got that honor.

“But I asked you to show me JJ, I want you to teach me.” You beg him, turning your body on the couch to face him fully, placing a hand on his exposed bicep.

And his resolve snapped.

He tossed his half full beer can aside as he stood, not caring where it landed. His hand took your own hand, gently but assertively pulling you up with him. He held onto you tightly, not wanting to lose you while weaving through the crowd in the Chateau making the way to the bedroom he made his. You caught sight of the first kook girl in passing, noticing the way she tried to catch JJ’s eyes only to be ignored. Her face contorted in surprise and disgust while you laughed softly before JJ was yanking you into his room and locking the door behind you both.

“C’mere,” JJ instructed, waving two fingers towards him. When you turn to him he’s facing away from you, grabbing a pillow from the top of his bed and tossing it on the floor at his feet. The bed creeks from his weight flopping onto it, manspreading while watching your slightly shocked and confused face, unable to hide his smile. “Come on, y’wanna learn or not.”

Your legs carry you to him, anxiously messing with the hem of your dress now that you can make out the bulge in his shorts. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice draws your gaze back to his and you can see the excitement whirling behind his blue eyes dropping you to your knees carefully, leaning into the comfort of his pillow.

“Thanks for the pillow,” You whisper, locking eyes with him from between his legs, “I didn’t know guys did that, I’ve never seen it in the porn I watch.”

“You watch porn?! Oh my god this keeps gettin’ better.” JJ groans with a smile, knocking his head back and letting you watch his adam’s apple bob, “I’ve never done it before, I just didn’t want you to bruise your knees.”

“Good to know I’m special.” You laugh awkwardly, wiggling with excited and nervous energy where you leant before him. He released an airy laugh above you, looking down at you again, his pupils dilated.

“You have no idea,” JJ’s voice was breathless and his words caught in his throat slightly, “Do you wanna get started on our lesson Princess?” JJ asked teasingly, running his fingers down your warm cheek, stopping to lift your head up by your chin. You nodded, shell shocked as you stare up at him unable to force your mouth to form words.

“I need you to tell me,” He whispered, leaning forward slowly until his lips ghost against yours, “If I’m going to finally corrupt you I need you to ask Cupcake.” Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in his scent as your heart rapped against your ribcage.

“I want you Jay….T-to teach me, please.” Your eyes flick open just in time to catch a wicked grin spread across his face before your cheeks were cupped in his warm palms, tugging your lips into his in a heated kiss. Your sighs mingle together, finally exploring what you both silently desired for so long. His tongue danced across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you gasped letting his tongue fight yours, forcing a moan from you that vibrated against his lips. He pulled away slowly, spit connecting you for a second before you’re licking your lips subconsciously. JJ observes your furrowed eyebrows and the redness flooding over your skin as your eyes stay closed in obvious pleasure.

“Still with me Gorgeous?” JJ asks, tapping your cheeks lightly, smiling excitedly as he watches you look up at him. His painfully hard erection rubbed against the zipper of his shorts as he adjusts his hips. Leaning back and resting his weight on his forearms, his crotch looming in front of you, your wide eyes telling him you have no clue how to start this. “Put your hands on my knees,” He instructs, shivering under your touch when you listen immediately, your cool hands resting against his steadily warming skin, “Good girl, now I want you to slowly move them up, like you’re not sure you want to take my pants off yet, tease me y’know?”

Your breath hitches at his praise, and he notices. You whimper as you try and follow his instructions drifting your hands across his broad thighs and letting your fingers tease under the fabric of his shorts, “You like being my good girl don’t you?” He asks, his voice teasing only slightly, his breathy voice making your thighs clench, rubbing them together desperate for friction.

“Yes, I do,” His eyes immediately catch onto the movement of your thighs, biting his lip while he watches you wiggle in front of him. He twitches in his shorts at the thought of you getting off to his pleasure, moaning loudly when he takes your hand in his pressing your palm directly into his bulge. Using his larger hand to move yours to perfectly cup around him and uses your palm moving it against his shaft as he swallows, desperately trying to collect himself.

“K-keep doing that until you’re ready,” He sighs, letting you continue at your own pace, moving his hand up to your hair to fix it, not wanting it to fall into your face as he watched your features for signs of distress, “When you want to unbuckle my belt and-“ He gasps cutting off his sentence when your fingers immediately jump to hastily undo his belt. Your shaking hands struggle for a few awkward seconds before you’re tugging his shorts down his thighs exposing his black boxers. JJ lifts his hips to let you discard his shorts fully, tossing them aside as you stare into his eyes triumphantly, “Good girl.”

Your wide smile as your hands tease their way back up his naked thighs just as he taught you has him reeling, practically shaking with excitement. “You like being praised, don’t you Mama?” He asks, tugging his lip between his teeth when your fingers find his cock again. He tugs your hand upward, moaning when he presses your hand into his tip, stopping your movements entirely until you respond.

“Yes Jay.” You whine, your tone impatient as you wiggle your hand under his, making him release a breathy moan laced with a laugh as he releases your hand, letting it continue it’s excited exploration of him. Your free hand started to sneak it’s way up his body, making him jolt forward as your cold hand found it’s way into his shirt.

“Who do you wanna learn this for?” JJ blurts out, not entirely wanting to hear the answer as he tugs his shirt over his head impatiently. Closing his eyes as your nails dig their way back down his chest, part of him wondering how you knew he’d like that.

“Myself.” JJ feels the smile grow back on his face, relief flooding his body as he opens his eyes, locking onto your wide gaze looking up to him expectantly. You want his instructions, and he wants to draw this out.

“So there’s no one in that precious mind of yours right now?” He asks, letting his eyes fall down your face, gazing at your wet lips before eyeing your cleavage and wiggling hips. Trying to suppress that part of him that wants you to stay here like this forever.

“Well,” You giggle, palming him through his boxers just over his tip, loving the way his head falls back with a moan when you apply more pressure, “Right now I have you on my mind Jay.”

“Fuck, you have no idea what that does to me,” He smiles towards the ceiling, imagining all the times he came in his hand to this exact scenario, “I thought you were too good for me, why’d ya ask me?”

“Some girls at the party were talking about me, calling me your groupie and saying I wouldn’t know what to do with you if you ever gave me the chance, and I really wanted a chance.” You sigh, drifting your hand down his toned abs to tease the elastic of his underwear, letting it snap against his skin as your excited eyes find his again.

“Oh Princess,” he cooed caressing your cheek, “You have always had the chance. You were the first girl I ever imagined doing this for me.” His eyes went wide when he realized what he had said, almost backtracking before you interrupted him to speak.

“Good, because I can’t imagine anyone else teaching me, I trust you, I want it to be you.” You state simply, locking your eyes in his gaze and taking not of the hitch in his breath. In a spurt of confidence you’re tugging his boxers down his thighs, eyeing his thick, throbbing cock as it bounces free, eyes meeting his again in a beg, “Tell me what to do Jay.”

“First give the tip a kiss Baby,” You do as your told, touching your lips against his hot, red tip as it leaks precum onto your lips, “Mmm, fuck now get your tongue nice and wet and lick up the middle, when it feels right slide my tip against your tongue n’suck on it like those Cherry suckers you’re always begin’ me for.”

You laugh, suddenly feeling more and more confident as you watch him come undone above you. “Is that what you want Jay? Or are you goin’ easy on me?”

“If you think you can take me in one go do it Princess, but don’t think I’m pressuring you,” He sighed, watching your tongue wet the side of his pulsing cock, “I want you to go at the pace you’re comfortable with.”

You smile up at him as you separate from him, letting spit coat your tongue before moving to lick up the prominent vein popping out of the other side of his cock. He groans above you, subconsciously moving his hips closer to your mouth in uncontrollable excitement. As your lips caress against his red, leaking tip you slowly let spit drip from your lips onto him, watching as it drips down him and pools in the bit of trimmed hair at his base. His eyes pop from his head when you bring your hand up to spread your saliva over him, pumping your hand slowly and twisting it like you’d seen in videos. You watched his furrowed eyebrows, buying yourself time to work up enough spit in your mouth to take him fully. His lips tug into his teeth as his hips stutter upward into your hand.

“Where did you learn to do that?” JJ gasps, stuttering and twitching in your wet hand.

“Porn.” Your sickly sweet voice has him moaning and tugging at your hair, forcing you’re eyes up to his.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He states before slamming his lips into yours, moving you back by your hair wrapped around his fist. You gape up at him wide mouthed, your hand speeding up when his eyes bounce between your open, drooling mouth and your blown out eyes as though asking for permission. You nod your head to him, not sure what he wanted to do but okay with it nonetheless. His free hand jumped to your chin, tugging your mouth open wider before leaning down and spitting directly onto your tongue. Rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you moan you shiver in front of him at the feeling of his spit mixing with yours, unknowingly helping you in your previous goal.

JJ chuckles at your reaction, moaning slightly when your hand speeds up again. You savior the feeling of his spit in your mouth for a second, your eyes latching onto his as you smile wickedly. JJ only takes a second’s pause before his eyed widen watching your mouth dip lower, his fingers subconsciously tightening in your hair, moving his other to grip the bed and ground himself. Breath fills your lungs from your nose, prepping yourself before teasing his tip with your tongue for only a second before you slowly slide him into your mouth. His hips jolt forward subconsciously, shuddering breathlessly when your eyes meet his over your lashes again. JJ curses under his breath, watching you take almost every inch of him in one go, sliding your head down his shaft, resting your hand at his base when you can’t fit anymore.

JJ moans loudly when you swallow around him, jerking his hips into you desperately trying to control himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cut him off quickly, shoving your head as far down as you can go, feeling his tip twitching in the back of your throat as you gag around him. You pop your head up, dragging your tongue against the underside of his shaft, moaning at his taste and sending vibrations through him. You suckle on his tip, preparing yourself as you gasp for breath around him. You start to bob your head up and down him, swirling your tongue as you go dropping low enough to feel his pubes tickle your cheeks, his hands moving to the back of your head to tug your hair into his fingers.

“You’re a natural,” JJ sighs, “Feel like imma cum already Gorgeous, fuck.” Gazing up at him you watch his eyes try and stay open, try to maintain eye contact until they flutter shut when the tip of your tongue grazes his ballsack unintentionally. JJ subconsciously pushes your head down, pulling a moan from you as he groans into his bitten lip, hooded eyes watching you intently now as he tugs you off of him with a pop. His hand stays in your hair, his eyes watching the way your spit dribbles down your chin, mixing with your lipstick and contrasting the black mascara running down you cheeks.

“I want you to try something, but only if you’re comfortable okay?” You nod to him desperately, ignoring the fact that your hair’s probably a mess in his hand, “Flatten out your tongue f’me,” His voice was demanding but soft still, a side of him you had never seen before beginning to come forward, “Yea, good girl just like that,” He says as he watches you stick your tongue out for him, spit dripping down the middle and directly onto is erect cock, “Now lean down and suck on my balls Sweetheart.” Your eyes went wide watching how he bobbed infront of your face. “If you don’t want to that-“

A shiver runs down his spine and directly into his rock hard cock when your warm tongue drags against his heavy sack before you suck one into your mouth, his hand tugs into your hair harder instinctively as he shudders. His shaft twitches against your face, your tongue swirlly against his salty flesh, tugging off him with a pop. You look up to him, makeup dyed spit dripping off your chin and down your chest, “Like that?”

“Yes yes just like that,” He gasps, desperation laced in his tone, immediately making you drop your head back. Sucking his other tight ball into your mouth, swirling your tongue while he shakes you slowly move your hand that was supporting your weight on his knee under your dress, circling your clothed clit with two fingers. Moaning around him as your eyes flutter shut feeling the wet patch seeping through your underwear.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” JJ growls when he catches your hands movement, his hand caress your face gently contrasting his hard tone. Despite wanting to listen your eyes stay shut as you speed up your fingers movement, “Thought you said you liked being a good girl, now listen to me.”

Letting your eyes flicker open you feel your cheeks heating up even more when you catch his gaze. His blue eyes only egg you on further, your fingers speeding up subconsciously while he stares at you with a smile. Breathing through your nose you continue your mouths exploration of him, popping your mouth off of his flesh only to immediately suck his tip into your mouth again. JJ’s hand tugs your hair into a ponytail as you bob your mouth on him, his tip hitting your throat each time making you gag and moan on him. The vibrations of your noises make his hips jolt uncontrollably, his body and dick twitching together as your spit pools on his groin and slips down his thighs.

He releases a loud needy groan when you force your mouth off him, his hand falling from your hair and clutching the blanket below him, mumbling incoherently while trying to ask why you stopped. He whines loudly gasping and gripping the bed so hard his knuckles turn white when you drag your wet tongue from the middle of his ballsack directly to his tip. Moaning when he twitched against your face, sucking him into your mouth while you eye his adam’s apple bobbing. Sensing he was close you stop your fingers with a whine around him, moving in order to move your hands to support yourself on his knees as you suck your cheeks in. You drag your mouth down his shaft and JJ whimpers, shoving his hand into your hair and tugging as he cums down your throat, filling your mouth as you moan.

“Fuck I’m so sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, do you need’ta spit?” He asks, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine at the sight of his cum dribbling past your lips.

“It’s okay,” You state simply licking your lips clean, the sweet tone in your voice not changing despite the more than inappropriate circumstances, “Your cum tastes so good Jay, look I swallowed it already.” You stick your tongue out to him, showing what little residue remains as he groans above you again.

“If you need anymore lessons, you can always, and i mean always, come to Papa Jay.” His breathless voice makes you laugh as you hop up to sit next to him on the bed.

“Do you wanna take my virginity too.” The burst of confidence making him cum gave you almost wears off at the look of shock that grows onto JJ’s face.

“Damn Mama, you are so fucking bold tonight, you have no clue how many times I have imagined you asking me that.” He smiles at you, his large ring clad hand gripping your thigh as it sits beside him, “Wanna tell me how long you have been fantasizing about your best friend poppin’ your cherry?”

“Forever.”

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I wanted to hear.” JJ groans, pulling your thighs apart and shoving you backwards letting your dress ride up. He rolls over you, settling over you where you lay on his bed, framing your face with his arms. “I think it’s your turn right now though don’t you?” Shivers run down your spine at his tone, subconsciously trying to rub your thighs together earning a teasing laugh from JJ. You brace yourself on his waste, tugging him closer to you as his lips crash into yours, tongues immediately starting to fight for dominance only for him to win with a groan.

“We should save your first time until there’s not a dozen people right outside the door.” Lowering his voice to a whisper as he lightly digs his hips into you, “And I think we need to have a conversation before we….move forward.” Letting his lips graze your neck as he keeps going he smiles at your gasps of appreciation, “But don’t think I don’t really, really want to right now.”

JJ’s teeth tug at the spaghetti strap string of your dress as he crawls lower down your body, letting it snap back against your skin with a sigh, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, so perfect I can’t even look at you sometimes.” The warm feeling of his tongue against your collar bone has you bucking against him desperately, hissing when his teeth nip at the exposed flesh of your breast.

“I love when you wear this dress,” JJ moans against your skin, his head falling low enough to push his face into your chest for a few seconds, wiggling it around dramatically, making you laugh before be continues his decent, “I don’t wanna take it off.” He groans, biting at your flesh through the fabric.

“Then don’t.” You say breathlessly, smiling down to him as you tangle your fingers into his hair. He smiles back to you, quickly pushing himself down the bed the rest of the way so he was face to face with your exposed thighs. With a quick flick of his wrists he flips the hem of your dress up, exposing your damp matching underwear.

“You matched your underwear to your outfit? That’s so cute.” JJ groans, dipping his head to bite at the flesh of your thigh as his hands slowly work their way up your thighs. He pulls back, watching intently as he slips his fingers past the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down as you lift your hips to help. You watch him as he tosses your underwear behind him, his eyes meeting yours for a second seeking consent as he shoves your thighs further apart, putting you completely on display for him. JJ licks his lips as he eyes you, moving his hands slowly under and around your thighs resting them on his shoulders before shoving your hips down with his large palms. He groans loudly as he bites into the flesh of your thigh beside him, slowly licking his way to your center and leaving a wet trail behind.

His hands hold your hips down hard as they jolt upward with your moan and laughs into you happily. Eyeing the way your head falls back, your chest rising and fallen he quickly speeds up his tongues pursuit of your clit. Watching you as one hand hangs above your head and the other plays with his hair, JJ can’t think of anything that looks better.

“Oh my god,” You yell, the feeling of his tongue flattening against you, slowly licking back and forth over your clit before quickly sucking it into his mouth. You scream a moan at the sensation, tugging at JJ’s hair aggressively not caring if anyone outside the door can hear your pleasure. “Do that again Jay.” JJ’s lips pop off of you into a smile, his lips glistening with your release before he drops his head back into you. Flicking his tongue aggressively against you as he licks up your slit, groaning at the feeling of your nails against his scalp when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. JJ can feel himself growing hard against the blanket at your taste, your shaking legs egging him on as your release quickly approaches.

The feeling of JJ’s tongue prodding at your entrance as you clench on nothing has the tightening feeling in your abdomen worsening, making you whine and wiggle your hips subconsciously. The grip of JJ’s hands on your hip tightens, his nails digging into your flesh as he grinds himself into the mattress at your excitement. He plunges his tongue into you, collecting your juices on his tongue with a desperate groan, his eyes flickering shut as he moves to flick his tongue against your puffy clit again. JJ pulls back quickly making you whine and tug at his hair, trying to shove him back into you and forcing a wicked laugh from him as he spits directly onto you and dives back in. You shudder when he starts to lap against you wildly, your hips jolting and your back arching, your hands tugs on his hair harder as you cum, the almost painful band in your abdomen breaking in a euphoric release. Moaning so loudly you know for sure anyone close enough to the door could hear but you didn’t care as you came undone on your best friend’s tongue, breath shaking as your body twitches.

JJ’s tongue slows, pushing himself up to get a better look at your post orgasm face, your eyes unfocused and your mouth open in gasping breaths. He slowly crawls up your body, smiling in your face and you smile back at him the best your can, he groans at the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your hair sticking to your forehead as he smash his lips into you. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as you both moan into each other.

——————

I might wanna do a part 2 of this for their first time, would anyone be interested in that?

Another Lesson? (Coming Soon)

[sage-nebula]

I've been suicidal many times in my life, and while I could talk about those experiences, given what this post is about, I'd rather talk about something else.

My boss at my previous job was not just my boss. He was my friend, my mentor. I'd met him as a student employee; I still remember the day I went in for my interview, and I asked to speak with "Mr [name]," and the other student employee who answered the door made a face and said, "Hey, Mr [Name], this girl is here to see you" when he let me in because my boss never wanted us to be so formal with him. We were on a first-name basis with him, always. I was nineteen, and super nervous interviewing for my first job that wasn't retail or food service, but he cracked jokes and made me feel welcome. He treated all of us like that.

He was just a really good man. He always stood up for us, every time the university tried to do something that would make our lives harder or less safe. I made a Facebook status once about how I was harassed by a gas station employee near the university, and he commented telling me he'd bring his bat if I needed it. When one of the supervisors ended up overstepping boundaries in a big way with us student employees, he worked overtime to make sure that we would all be safe. When I got promoted to a supervisor position after graduation, and took it upon myself to oversea the yearly Secret Santa tradition for the students (meaning I didn't participate because otherwise I would know who my Secret Santa was), he decided he wasn't letting me go without a present and got me one anyway, despite my insistence that it wasn't necessary.

Unfortunately, he had his own demons to fight. He was going through difficult stuff in his personal life. He told me a lot about it; I was a confidant for him, and at one point he told me I was the only person he could speak to about any of it. More unfortunately still, as much as I wanted to be there for him, I was also struggling to keep my own mental health on track. It was around this time that I was looking into starting antidepressants / anti-anxiety medication for the first time because of how much I was struggling, and I was really focused on getting all of that sorted so that I could stop being tempted by the trains I heard pass by my home every night. Because of this, I didn't check in on him regularly. And so, when his boss called me one morning before my shift was supposed to start and told me that he had taken his own life, I was consumed by more than just shock and grief; I was crushed by guilt.

You see, I blamed myself. Largely because he had told me I was the only one who could confide in, I couldn't help but think that if I had checked in on him more regularly, if I had been there, this wouldn't have happened. I could have prevented it. I could have saved him. He wouldn't have taken his own life, and it wouldn't have been one of his young daughters who found him like that. Not only had I lost a friend of nine years, but I felt like I failed him.

I know now that isn't the case. There were many factors involved, not the least of which being it turns out I wasn't the only one he confided in after all. But it took me a long time to reach that point—a long time until I could honestly say that I didn't feel like it was my fault.

In the midst of depression and suicidal ideation, it can be incredibly hard to see the importance that you have in other people's lives—the place that you have there, that no one else can fill. I know this intimately, because it is something that I struggle with regularly. But even if you can't see it, you have to hold in the forefront of your mind that the importance is there. The impact will be felt. Not only do people care about you, but those closest to you will hold the weight of responsibility for your life on their shoulders for a long time. If nothing else, you don't want that for the people you care about, do you? You don't want to do that to them, do you?

You are not the only one harmed by your suicide. In fact, you're the one who will feel the impact the least. Death doesn't hurt the deceased; it only wounds the living. That's why we have funerals: it's for the sake of those left behind. But no amount of funerals or celebrations of life can assuage the pain left by a suicide. It doesn't help. Notes don't either.

If you're in a place where you're ideating, reconsider. Reach out to someone close to you. Tell them where you are, mentally, and have them come be with you. Believe me when I say that they would much rather sit awake with you all night, than wake up the next morning to a message that you're gone.

Give us the chance to be there for you. It's all we ask.

periodic reminder that your death by your own hand will wreak more havoc on the lives of those you know than you are ever capable of imagining and if you need a sign not to kill yourself this is it. people care more than you know & i am one of them

[dykedvonte]

One of my mutuals opinions is the "bro code" thing, that Curly is one of those guys who wouldn't care about the victim because the perpetrator is his friend and I'm really banging my head on the wall like that other anon. I've only played through the game once but Curly's behaviour/reactions etc read completely different from the "bro code" thing and I have to wonder if my mutual and I even played the same game.. like the constant digs at him from Jimmy, his body language in his face reveal and so on like you mentioned in your post. While this game is a little different obviously, it kind of reminded of a point in Alice Madness Returns that makes it very clear that Alice's pain blinded her to the abuse of the other children and her failure to act earlier because of it. Curly is guilty of a similar inaction but it doesn't change the fact he was a victim of Jimmy too. I don't think I can look at it any other way because both of these games have really stuck with me.

I genuinely think it really is the idea that people want a simple easy to blame problem and the idea that the only relatable victims of abuse are those that "surpass" it or do a lot to help others. When it comes to victims, especially those that don't fit the typical demographics, who either accidently perpetuate it, enable it or aren't ideal in some way shape or form, people jump to ignore what they went through as it's easier than dealing with those conflicting sentiments.

The bro-code conversation in Mouthwashing stems from a concept I generally dislike that there had to be something about Curly that made him meet or keep being friends with someone like Jimmy. I think people genuinely underestimate how many like decent and good people just know an asshole or are friends with someone who is really bad outside of their view/established dynamics. The game makes it clear none of the inaction against Jimmy is because of a lack of care, it is a lack of understanding from the privaleged postions they have as men to not have to worry about what Anya does/went through and the type of extremes men like Jimmy will go through to cover it up. They are all too preoccupied in their own strifes.

Another thing I see being oversaturated the idea that you have to be a freak, misanthrope or have a disorder to do the thing Jimmy does. The game is an escalation, it's a spiral that I don't see people comment on that Jimmy was not likely having the mood swings and episodes of rage/frustration we were seeing in the game. This is after they all start experiencing the worst moments in their lives that he got THAT openly bad. Of course, this is just my interpretation but much like in real life, people that go to extremes like that usually live mundane lives. It's a pressure cooker affect to where the stress made them pop. It's self inflicted but still the case.

I really think people need to be more willing to acknowledge that not everything needs to be an extreme or in black and white or easy to understand. It doesn't need to be happy or have an answer or solution, especially in the cases where the abused sadly helps perpetuate what they experience. It's not he should've known better from experience or shouldn't he have known what could've happened because victims tend to not like to think in matters of the worst. Not to mention, especially in cases of abuse where it feels so personally directed that you don't expect to happen to someone else.

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ 0713

ଓ.° ・ simon riley. call of duty. family fic -- simon and reader have a daughter. may as well make this an unofficial series ～(　TロT)σ every day i am victim to the delusions !!

when you first met simon, you quite honestly did not think you'd end up having such a domestic life with him. you've known each other for a long while, been together for less. you've seen each other go through hell and back, worry for each other's safety and return, and here you are now, with a daughter that is exactly like him.

kind of. mostly, you'd say.

personality? absolutely. quiet, reserved-- her, mostly in the sense that she's shy. him, in the sense that he just doesn't like talking to people very much. but quiet all the same, you suppose.

appearances? oh, one hundred percent. brown eyes, brown hair. sharp gaze. you don't know how a two year old has a sharp gaze, but she does.

little quirks? you suppress a sigh just thinking about it. wherever you are, simon is. he's practically your shadow-- so what's your daughter? his shadow. so basically, in summary : anywhere you go? have no fear, you will never be alone. ever.

oh, forgot something in the bedroom? just turn around and you'll face-plant into your husband's chest, and when you recover, you'll see your daughter peek out from behind his leg to see what all the ruckus is. oh, you're going to do laundry? forget the television, make it a group effort instead. grocery shopping? no need to split up to make it faster. he's mapped out the most efficient route around the store to knock out this trip in less than an hour.

yeah. they're weird. but you love them, so it's okay.

you'd like to think that nothing surprises you at this point, until today -- when you're tending to the house, bright and early, only to see a certain half awake toddler and her dad standing in the living room. you pause for a moment, mildly surprised that she's already up. you don't say anything-- just watching, as they haven't noticed you around the corner of the hallway quite yet.

"papa."

"munchkin."

silence. like, a long silence. your brows furrow, and you can't help but tilt your head in confusion and curiosity as you witness the strange phenomenon that is your family. she closes the distance, looking up at him. and in return, he looks down at her.

and they just stare at each other. in even more silence. for a good few minutes. not a single word exchanged. you're just so confused by this interaction that you're about to speak up, but then she raises her arms, and just like that, he picks her up, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead-- his usual good morning greeting to her, you've come to notice.

you stand there in the hallway, confused as ever, as he walks off to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her. you have no idea what that was. you blink a few times before shaking your head, joining him in the kitchen to help with the morning prep.

-- so naturally, when night comes, the little one is sleeping, and you're laying in bed next to simon, you can't help but ask:

"what the hell happened this morning?"

he pauses at the sudden question.

"you burned the pancakes, dove."

your eye twitches.

"i did fucking not." you roll your eyes, though you don't put up any resistance as he pulls you closer to him, an arm draped over your waist. "i'm talking about your little stare down today. what was that?"

simon stares blankly at the wall in recollection of the event. a moment or two, then a slow shift in his gaze as he looks at you.

"-- just had a bit of a chat."

"...you both said one word each."

"said it was a bit, didn't i?"

oh, insufferable. weird and insufferable. you give him a deadpan stare, in which he returns full on-- and now you're stuck in a silent staring contest with him. as much as you'd love to try and redeem yourself from the losing streak you've maintained all these years, you understand that one : it is midnight, and you would like to not stay up until three in the morning only to lose, and two : you should be realistic and know that you'll never win.

"stop that." you grumble, hand covering his eyes. "she's gonna pick up on that and start staring into people's souls. it'll freak them out."

he chuckles softly, moves your hand away before lacing his fingers with yours, lips gently trailing down your neck. "not a bad thing. instills fear."

"...i would really like you to not encourage our two year old daughter to instill fear into people, simon riley."

a faint hum of acknowledgement and amusement, then another kiss along your jaw, the corner of your mouth, then your lips. he can't help but notice the feeling of your smile despite your disgruntled words, and he thinks he loves you all the more for it.

"i'll consider it, love."

[violetskylights0]

Can you please do selvika if her and the reader did nnn(no nut November) like you did with vi (To be honest she would probably be like no 😭) Its ok if you don't want to

I am a Vi girl to my very core but I must give the people what they want. I thought it would be cute and short...and now we have some of the nastiest shit I have ever written. I hope it's everything you wanted and more xoxo. @starisinlovewiththemoon

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

Games we like to play (18 +)

Prostitute!reader x Sevika

Warnings: Degradation/Smut/Pet names/Kind of cute?

No Nut November. Just saying it felt ridiculous. You’d heard about it before—whispers in the brothel about Piltover clients and their strange indulgences in self-denial. You’d always dismissed it as yet another quirk of the privileged: something to laugh at, not take seriously.

And it wasn’t like you had the luxury of turning down indulgence. Working at the brothel wasn’t about holding back; it was about giving people exactly what they wanted. Or needed. You didn’t care much either way—clients came and went, their faces blurring together after a while.

That is until Sevika walked in.

You’d known her by reputation, of course. Everyone in the Undercity did. She was Silco’s right hand, the enforcer with a mechanical arm and a short temper to match. People whispered about her in a way that made you assume she was ruthless, dangerous, someone you didn’t want to cross paths with unless you had to.

So, when she first stepped into your room, you froze. The light was dim, but there was no mistaking her broad shoulders, the scar cutting across her cheek, or the way her eyes flicked over the space with a calculated calm.

You expected her to bark orders, to demand something rough or impersonal. But instead, she went to your bar cart, poured herself a drink, and leaned casually against the wall. “Nice setup,” she’d said, her tone low and unhurried.

Her behavior threw you. You weren’t sure what to make of her—this woman who seemed both entirely in control and quietly restrained. You talked for a while, about nothing in particular, and the longer you listened, the more the fear melted into something else. Curiosity, maybe. Intrigue.

A drink or two in, though? That reserved demeanor? Gone. That night, she paid for three hours—and she’d used every minute.

Since then, she’d been your only client. It wasn’t just the money—though she made sure you didn’t need anyone else—but the connection. She was different. Reserved but attentive, with a way of making you feel like the only person in the room. You didn’t put labels on it—Sevika wasn’t the type for that—but it was something. Enough to make you bold.

Which is how this conversation started.

“I heard one of my coworkers talking about it with her Piltover client,” you said, voice light as you trailed your fingers along Sevika’s arm. The sheets rustled between your legs as she came up for air and propped herself up on one elbow, dark eyes narrowing at you in amusement.

“Go on,” she said, her voice low and rough, already laced with suspicion.

“It’s this thing they do. No Nut November.” You tried not to laugh at the words, but Sevika’s expression—a mix of disbelief and amusment—nearly broke your composure.

“No... what now?” she repeated, her lips twitching into a smirk.

You bit your lip, enjoying the rare moment of catching her off guard. “Basically, it’s a whole month where you’re not allowed to... you know.”

Sevika snorted, dropping her head and rolling on her side “You’re telling me people do this shit on purpose?”

“Apparently,” you said, biting back a grin. “Some kind of self-control thing.”

“Sounds like something those Piltover assholes came up with. Too much money, not enough brains.” Her voice was dry, but the faint chuckle undercut the sharpness.

“Probably,” you agreed, laughing softly. “But... it could be fun.”

Sevika stilled, her gaze snapping back to you. “What?”

“We could try it,” you said, keeping your voice as casual as possible. “Just for the hell of it. What’s the harm?”

She sat up fully, pulling her tank top back on as she shook her head. “No offense, sweetheart, but isn’t the whole point of what we do to not hold back?” Her tone was blunt, but there was an edge of curiosity behind it like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

You frowned, the remainder of your undefined “arrangement” stinging a little. But you weren’t about to give up that easily.

“C’mon, Sev,” you murmured, letting the sheet slip off your body as you stood. Her gaze flicked downward for a moment before she caught herself, her jaw tightening.

“You barely have time to visit me these days,” you said softly, stepping closer. “I know things are... hard right now. Silco’s gone. You’re picking up all the pieces. I just thought maybe this could be something to take your mind off it all. Something just for us.”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the rough edge of the scar there. Sevika exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly under your touch.

“And,” you added, your voice dropping as your hand moved to her arm, “think about how good it’ll feel at the end of the month. Me, all needy. And you…” Your fingers grazed the hard lines of her bicep, drawing her attention.

“Pent up?” she finished for you, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest.

You grinned. “Exactly.”

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a heavy sigh, she reached for your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” she murmured, her voice softening as her forehead rested against yours.

You smiled, standing on your toes to kiss her. Her lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness of her calloused hand as it held you steady.

“Fine,” Sevika muttered against your lips, pulling you closer as she sealed the deal. “Two weeks. But don’t think for a second I’m making it easy for you.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you pulled back, excitement bubbling up like steam in a kettle about to burst. For a moment, you thought you saw the faintest flush creeping up her neck, but she turned away too quickly for you to be sure.

“Two weeks,” she repeated, adjusting her cape as if to distract herself. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You smirked, leaning against the doorway to watch her go. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

This was going to be very, very interesting.

The first week wasn’t so bad. You stuck to your usual routine, and seeing Sevika three times that week made it unexpectedly fun.

Tuesday’s visit to her apartment was a perfect example. She’d summoned you with a cryptic, “Come by tonight,” and though her tone was casual, it always managed to spark a thrill deep in your chest.

Navigating the labyrinth of Zaun’s backstreets was second nature by now, though it still carried an edge of excitement. The quiet hum of the city and the faint buzz of neon lights guided you to her door, where you knocked three times—the code you’d both settled on.

The door opened with no preamble, and there stood Sevika, framed by the dim light spilling out from her apartment. The sight of her stopped you dead in your tracks.

Her cigarette hung loosely between her lips as she fiddled with her mechanical arm, muttering something under her breath. The dark brown tank top she wore stretched tight over her chest, highlighting the sculpted curve of her shoulders, while her black boxers sat dangerously low on her hips. The disheveled look was almost unfairly attractive, and it left you feeling momentarily speechless.

Her sharp eyes flicked up to meet yours, and a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You gonna stand there all night or come in?”

You slipped inside quickly, your pulse already quickening. She moved to her couch and collapsed into it like she owned the world, legs spread wide, exuding an effortless dominance that made your skin tingle.

Without missing a beat, you crossed the room and climbed onto her lap, settling yourself like you’d been invited—even though you hadn’t been. You plucked the cigarette from her lips and took a long drag, locking eyes with her as you exhaled.

“You know,” she drawled, her tone low and teasing, “you could always ask before you take.”

“And what’s the fun in that?” you shot back, a playful grin spreading across your lips.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Keep pushing, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a velvet threat.

Before you could quip back, she had you pinned to the couch, her large hand encircling your throat—not squeezing, just enough to make your breath hitch. Her lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep and consuming, like she was claiming you all over again.

Her knee pressed up between your thighs, and the pressure was just enough to pull a shameless moan from you. The sound made her grin, slow and wicked.

“Ready to give up this silly little game you insist on playing?” she asked, her voice husky as her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

The reminder of your bet jolted you out of your haze, and you pushed against her shoulders, sitting up dramatically. “You’re already trying to sabotage me!” you accused, narrowing your eyes at her.

“And it almost worked,” she said, her grin unfazed. “C’mon, sweetheart. Give it up. You know you can’t say no to me.”

You scoffed, your gaze darting to the table beside you where her screwdriver lay. With a smirk, you snatched it up and held it out to her. “Give me that.”

Her brow arched, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Well,” you continued, shrugging nonchalantly, “since you’re paying for my time, I might as well make myself useful. You looked frustrated when I showed up.”

Her confusion melted into reluctant amusement as she took the screwdriver. “You offering to fix my arm now?”

“Depends,” you said, gesturing for her to sit back down. “Which screw were you trying to tighten?”

She hesitated for a moment before sitting down and explaining the issue. You listened intently, nodding along and offering the occasional suggestion, though you weren’t exactly an expert.

The rest of the evening was spent sifting through her pile of spare parts, sharing drinks, and laughing over failed attempts to jury-rig solutions. At one point, you glanced up from the mess to find her watching you—not with her usual smugness, but something softer, quieter. The look vanished as quickly as it came, leaving you questioning if you’d imagined it.

By week two, though, things got harder—literally and figuratively. Your body betrayed you at every turn, and the tension was maddening. It left you feeling like a pent-up teenager, desperate and all too aware of every brush of fabric, every suggestive glance. But if Sevika thought you’d break first, she had another thing coming.

Which brought you to Friday night at The Last Drop. Sevika’s routine was as predictable as clockwork—every Friday, she’d be at her usual table, gambling and sipping whiskey like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was the perfect opportunity to test her resolve.

You stood in front of the mirror, applying the last swipe of lip gloss and admiring your handiwork. The black leather skirt clung to your hips, catching the faint glow of the moonlight, and your low-cut top highlighted just enough cleavage to make Sevika’s attention inevitable. You smoothed your hair, gave yourself one last smirk, and headed out.

The bouncer at The Last Drop barely looked up before nodding in the direction of Sevika’s table. You spotted her immediately, lounging like a queen among her subjects. Her cigar glowed faintly in the low light, and the subtle curve of her smirk as she leaned back in her chair set your nerves buzzing.

You approached with deliberate confidence, the click of your heels drawing eyes as you stopped beside her. “Is that seat taken?” you asked, motioning to her lap.

The table fell silent, the men and women around Sevika staring openly, their gazes lingering far too long for your liking. Sevika, however, barely glanced at you before leaning back and spreading her legs slightly in invitation.

You lowered yourself onto her lap, adjusting your skirt just enough to let her feel the curve of your hips against her. Her hand settled on your thigh, a possessive touch that sent shivers through you.

She leaned in, her breath brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “It’s cute that you thought dressing like a slut would make me jealous. But here’s the thing—they all know you’re my slut. What’s there to be jealous about when they can only dream?”

Her low chuckle rumbled through you as she tossed some chips onto the table, her hand sliding higher on your thigh.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you weren’t backing down—not yet.

Game on.

The game at the table picked up, the noise growing louder with every passing round. You barely paid attention, more focused on Sevika's drink getting dangerously low. Without waiting for her to ask, you hopped up to grab her another. Her hand delivered a quick, casual pat to your ass as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the sly grin that spread across your face.

At the bar, you scanned the crowd for a target. Spiked-hair guy slumped over near a puddle of vomit? Nope. A buzzcut woman giving you that look from the middle of the room? Way too easy. Then, your gaze landed on her: a loudmouth with an undercut and no clue about the pecking order here. Jackpot.

You sidled up to the bar, ignoring her completely at first. Tapping your empty glass, you got the bartender’s attention, who already knew what to pour: whiskey for Sevika. Only then did you glance her way.

“Looks like you’re having a hell of a time over here,” you said, flashing a playful smile.

She turned toward you, the conversation with her friend forgotten. Her eyes swept over you with a low whistle. “And I think I’m about to have an even better one,” she smirked.

Right where you wanted her. But she needed to work a little harder for it.

As she started asking about you, you casually mentioned the brothel. Her eyes lit up like it was her birthday.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head coyly, “I do give discounts to clients who know how to show me a good time.”

“Oh, yeah?” she grinned, leaning closer. “Convenient, since I’ve got some cash burning a hole in my pocket.” Her hand found the back of your thigh, pulling you in just enough to make the air between you crackle.

You felt Sevika’s gaze burning into your back from across the room, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you leaned into the stranger’s touch, tapping the muscles of her arm teasingly.

“I think I’d like a preview of what the rest of my night could look like,” she said, her voice dropping as she tapped your chin up with her finger.

“Oh, yeah?” you whispered, your lips inches from hers. “Why don’t you show me what I’m working with?”

Just as she started to lean in, you barely had time to process the hand on your thigh disappearing. A blur of movement later, the stranger hit the floor, a guttural thud snapping the air between you.

Sevika stood over her, gripping the fabric of her shirt with one hand.

“I’ll give you five seconds to get the fuck out of my bar,” Sevika growled, her voice low and razor-sharp. “Before I break every disgusting finger that touched my girl.”

Your eyes widened as the stranger stammered something snarky, but it didn’t matter. Sevika’s fist connected with her nose before she could finish. Blood sprayed, and the woman crumpled onto the ground.

Sevika turned to you, her jaw tight, her eyes blazing.

“Office. Now.”

Before you could respond, she grabbed your hand, dragging you toward the back. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you alone with the familiar tension crackling between you like a storm about to break.

You leaned back against Silco’s old desk, arms crossed. “Well, someone’s jealous.”

Her glare could’ve melted steel. “Jealous?” she barked, stalking toward you. “It’s one thing to show up dressed like that, begging for attention. But you were practically dry-humping her in front of everyone.”

You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Isn’t that my job? Making sure potential clients are… interested in what they see?”

Her growl reverberated through the room as she closed the distance between you. “Yeah, well, from now on, I’m your only client that matters.”

Your smirk widened. “Sevika, are you trying to make us exclusive?”

She chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. “This isn’t about some stupid game. You’ve been trying to drive me insane since day one, and guess what? You did it. Congratulations. Now I’m gonna make you regret it.”

“Funny,” you teased, hopping up onto the desk and letting your knees fall open just enough. “Seems like everything’s going exactly according to plan.”

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, she just stared at you. Then, with an exasperated chuckle, she stepped between your legs, her hands landing on your hips.

“I knew you’d be the death of me,” she muttered, before grabbing your neck and crashing her lips into yours.

Every ounce of frustration and tension boiled over in that kiss, her grip firm and unrelenting as if to remind you exactly who was in charge now. And this time, you didn’t argue.

You had made out with Sevika plenty of times before. But as her tongue slid into your mouth this time, it was different. There was no pretense, no playful back-and-forth teasing. This wasn’t just a hookup, and you weren’t just some random conquest.

She wasn’t kissing a prostitute. She was staking a claim.

A moan escaped your lips as she pushed you back against the desk, the edge digging into your lower back as her frame towered over you. You gasped when she climbed on top of you, her weight a deliberate reminder of how much control she had.

Her lips trailed from your jaw to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave marks that you knew you’d see tomorrow. “I think I’ll start by ruining this little outfit,” she growled, her voice dark and rich. “Since you’re so set on showing the Undercity what’s mine, I’ll make it easier for you.”

Her metal hand traced up your waist, the cold edge of her finger sending shivers down your spine. You barely had time to process her next move before she dragged it sharply upward, slicing clean through your top like it was nothing.

You inhaled sharply as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed. Sevika sat back for a moment, her eyes raking over you with a hunger that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

“Much better,” she muttered, her lips quirking into a wicked smirk as she leaned in, her nose brushing against yours. “But you’re not done paying for that little stunt at the bar, sweetheart.”

Her hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You wanna play games?” she teased, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Fine. I’ll play. But we both know how this ends.”

“Do we?” you shot back, your voice breathy but still defiant. “Seems to me like you’re the one losing your cool.”

That earned you a sharp laugh, her teeth flashing as her smirk widened. “Keep talking,” she said, her voice low. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re begging me to stop.”

You opened your mouth to make a smart ass comment  but it was already to late as she started pinching one of your nipples with her real hand. 

‘Look at these already stiff. You really are a fucking whore.” Sevika said aggresily spitting on your chest before leaning down and licking it to spead over your left nipple. 

You started moaning as she swirlled her tongue and lightly bit at your nipple as your hands shot to her hair. She made sure to leave a few hickeys before quickly tearing through your mini skirt as well quickly dropping to her knees and pulling you to the edge of the desk. 

You groaned, your head tipping back as Sevika pinned your thighs nearly flat against your shoulders. The contrast was maddening—her metal hand icy against your left thigh, the sharp edges biting just enough to tease, while the warmth of her calloused fingers on your right thigh sent sparks shooting through your body.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice low and taunting as her eyes roamed over you. "Can’t decide if you like it rough or soft, huh? Guess I’ll just give you both."

Her grip tightened, the cold metal sending a shiver up your spine as she leaned down, her breath ghosting over your neck. The deliberate pressure of her hands, one hard and unyielding, the other impossibly warm and strong, had you arching into her without thinking.

“Keep making noises like that, and I might just keep you pinned like this all night,” she teased, her lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the needy whimper threatening to spill out. But Sevika caught it, her smirk practically audible as she shifted her weight, her metal fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Thought so,” she growled, leaning in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of your throat.

You loved when Sevika treated you like a ragdoll with no other purpose than to her pretty little fucktoy and cum. And you were already close to cumming thirty seconds after her tongue started dancing across your clit. The sound of Sevika slurping up all of your juices made you go wild. 

You felt her hand on your right thigh move to your entrance groaning at the feeling of her two fingers stretching you out. 

“Cant believe this pussy is so greedy sucking my fingers in. It’s almost like you get off of me degrading you huh” Sevika moaned continuing her assault on your clit with her tounge.

“Well I’ll make it worth your wild hm? Cum on my fucking fingers like the greedy slut you are.” Sevika engouraged instantly sending you over the edge as your legs began to shake as you called out Sevikas name. 

You barley had time to cathcn your breath before Sevika told you to stand up and turn around to brace yourself against the desk. 

You heard her undoing her pants and feeling something kind of warm and hard against your entrance.

“Thought I would wear this think out to see if it was comfortable enough to bring over to the brothel. Didnt know it would come in handy so soon.” She said pressing into you as the object slid inside of you wour jaw falling slack from the sensation. 

‘W-what is that- oh my god.” You said gripping the desk.

“Saw some women talking about this thing when I was up in Piltover running some collections. I think they called it a strap? Figures your sloppy pussy would take it in one go.” Sevika said starting to roll her hips so the strap started moving in and out of you. 

You had never felt something so good your eyes rolling back as she picked up the speed. 

She gripped your hair with one hand as she moved her knee between yours using her muscular thigh to push you bent leg up on the desk. Increasing her speed even more. 

It felt so fucking good you didnt even have control of what was flying out of your mouth just expletives and Sevikas name.

As the slapping sounds began to echo through the room you felt yourself getting close again As Sevikas grunts sounded like a melody against your ears. 

“ Go ahead screm it louder baby. Let everyone in the bar- no everyone in the lanes know who this pussy belongs to.” She grunted bringing her hand down on your ass with a hard slap as she continued ramming into you. 

“Fuck it’s all yours Sev! S-stresching me out so good.” You slurred feeling your orgasm washing over your. You thought she would slow her pace but as your orgasm began to calm Sevika kept punding into you.

You felt your eyes roll back getting light headed from the pressure. A new feeling building in your stomach. 

“I know you have more in you hm? Show daddy how well you can squirt all over my strap. She said smacking your ass again. 

You shrieked her name cursing her out as you felt a sudden rush followed by a feeling of wetness shooting all over your leg as Sevika groaned at how well you were taking it. 

Sevika finally slowed her pace, her movements deliberate and torturous as she eased out of you. The rush of sensation left you dizzy, your body slack, and your legs threatening to give out entirely. You stumbled forward, but Sevika was quick, catching you effortlessly.

She chuckled low in her throat, the sound vibrating through you as she scooped you up into her arms like you weighed nothing. Carrying you to the worn couch in the corner of the room, she settled down with you perched in her lap, your body still trembling in the aftershocks.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered, your voice breathy and ragged. You barely had the energy to lift your head, but the accusation carried all the heat you could muster. “First, you tell the whole damn bar I’m your girl, then you ruin my favorite skirt, and then you fuck me like that?”

Sevika smirked, her hand idly tracing patterns along your thigh. “Mm, don’t forget—I also carried your pretty ass over here.”

“Not the point,” you shot back, though the warmth in her touch had your indignation quickly waning.

Her smirk deepened, dark eyes glinting with mischief. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she murmured, her voice thick with self-satisfaction.

You tilted your head, confused and still trying to regain full control of your brain. “What?”

Her grin was almost feral as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I won your stupid game.”

The realization hit you like a slap. “Oh, hell no—”

“Uh-uh,” she interrupted, cutting off your protests with a possessive kiss that left you breathless all over again. When she finally pulled back, her smug expression had you torn between wanting to strangle her and kiss her again.

“Face it,” Sevika said, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction as her hand trailed lazily up your spine. “You can’t resist me. You never could.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the smug arch of her brow and the way her fingers tightened just enough on your waist shut you up fast. Damn her for being right.

Sevika’s laugh rumbled through her chest as she leaned back, utterly victorious. “That’s what I thought,” she said, her voice teasing as she rested her head against the back of the couch. “Guess that makes me the reigning champion, huh?”

You huffed, your pride smarting, but the way her arms tightened around you, grounding and comforting, made it impossible to stay mad.

“Fine,” you grumbled, resting your head against her chest. “But next time, I’m taking home the crown.”

“We’ll see, sweetheart,” Sevika murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “We’ll see.”

[eu-nicola]

the ferrari couple

summary: when Charles signs with Ferrari, his life takes an unexpected turn when he falls in love with you "Princess Ferrari". Together both become the perfect couple, but behind public perfection, the pressure of your careers leads both in other ways

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4559

author's note: english is not my first language

this is a request from @pperlaaiy

The sound of engines rumbled across the Monza circuit. It was the 2018 Italian Grand Prix, and Charles Leclerc, still a Sauber driver, walked around the paddock with a mix of pride and nervousness. That year had been crucial for him; rumours of his possible promotion to Ferrari felt increasingly real. However, the pressure of being at home, surrounded by tifosi who idolised the Scuderia, kept him on his toes. 

As he made his way to the Ferrari hospitality area, Charles paused for a moment, awed by the spectacle before him. Surrounded by photographers, journalists and Ferrari employees, there was you. You seemed to shine with a light of your own, dressed in an impeccable white two-piece suit that bore discreet touches of Ferrari red, the colour that so represented your lineage. Perfectly coiffed hair, dark sunglasses and a confident smile that showed no trace of nervousness. In that moment, you were everything Ferrari stood for: tradition, elegance and power. 

“Who is she?” Charles asked his engineer, unable to look away.

“Don’t you know? She’s related to Enzo Ferrari. Her mother, Sofia Ferrari, is practically the queen of the car group. She’s like the princess of the house.”

Charles nodded slowly, impressed, but also intimidated. He had heard about you before, how you were an iconic figure in and out of the world of motorsport. You were known not only for your surname, but for your involvement in Ferrari’s most exclusive events, your innate elegance, and the way you upheld your family’s legacy. The fact that you were unreachable only added to your aura.

However, what happened next took Charles completely by surprise. While he tried to hide his interest and continue on his way, you turned around and your eyes met his. Taking off your sunglasses, you smiled with that mix of kindness and confidence that baffled everyone.

“Charles Leclerc, right?” You asked, stepping closer gracefully.

He blinked, surprised that you knew who he was. "Uh, yeah, I'm Charles," he replied, trying to sound relaxed, though he felt the heat rising to his face.

“I have to say, you’ve impressed many at Ferrari this year,” you said, shaking his hand. Your tone was gentle, but your words carried a weight he couldn’t ignore. “My uncle won’t stop talking about you. I think you’re destined for great things.”

Charles scratched the back of his neck, a nervous gesture contrasting with your poise. “I hope so. Being part of Ferrari would be… a dream.”

“A dream, but also a responsibility,” you replied, your gaze becoming more intense. “Ferrari isn’t just a team, Charles. It’s a family, a history. The tifosi don’t see you as just a driver; they see you as a symbol. And that’s not something just anyone can carry.”

He nodded slowly, feeling the weight of your words. He’d heard similar speeches before, but coming from you, they held a different meaning. “I know. And I’m willing to give my all to live up to it.”

You stared at him for a moment, assessing him. Finally, you smiled again, this time with a hint of genuine warmth. “I hope so, Charles. I’d love to see you succeed at Ferrari. But for now, enjoy Monza. It’s a magical place, don’t you think?”

“It is,” he replied, relaxing a little. “Even more so now.”

Your laugh was soft, but enough for the few people around to notice the chemistry that seemed to be brewing between the two of you. Before you could respond, a team member called out to you from a distance. With a slight nod to Charles, you walked away, leaving behind a sweet scent and an impression he wouldn’t soon forget.

Charles stood still for a few seconds, taking in what had just happened. He had met the “princess of Ferrari,” but beyond your name and lineage, what had struck him most was your presence. There was something about you that challenged him, that made him want to prove he was worthy of being in your world.

That night, during the official Ferrari dinner, they met again. You were surrounded by important figures in motorsport, but when Charles entered the room, your eyes instinctively sought him out. This time, you didn't need to approach him; he took the initiative.

"Can I sit here?" he asked, pointing to the chair next to yours.

You smiled, amused. "Of course. I hope you're ready, Charles."

"If I can survive Monza, I think I can handle this," he replied, feeling more confident.

And so, over glasses of wine and conversations filled with jokes and witty observations, something began that neither of you could have foreseen. You weren't just Ferrari's princess; you were a challenge, a mystery. And for Charles, the young driver who dreamed of conquering the world, you became the most fascinating target of all.

After that first meeting at Monza, Charles couldn't get you out of his mind. Despite being immersed in the demands of his season with Sauber, he found moments between races and training to remember the conversations he'd had with you. For your part, there was something about him that intrigued you. Maybe it was his humility, his ambition, or the way he seemed to shine even under the pressure of the spotlight.

The next few times you met were at Ferrari-related events, always in formal settings where professional distance was the norm. However, that barrier slowly began to break down.

It was a cool evening in Maranello. Ferrari had organised a private dinner to celebrate the season's achievements and start looking ahead. Although the evening was for the official drivers, Charles was invited as a gesture of goodwill, as the announcement of his joining Ferrari for the 2019 season was imminent.

You met him in the event's illuminated gardens, while escaping a boring conversation with a group of executives. Charles was alone, a glass of wine in his hand, admiring the statue of Enzo Ferrari that presided over the place. You approached him with a light smile.

"Thinking about how to fill those shoes?" you asked, stopping beside him.

Charles turned his head, surprised but genuinely happy to see you. "More like wondering if I'll ever make it."

“It’s a start,” you said, shrugging. “He always said that the true spirit of Ferrari isn’t in perfection, but in passion. If you have that, you’re already halfway there.”

He looked at you, with a mix of admiration and curiosity. “Do you feel that passion too? For Ferrari, I mean.”

You nodded, crossing your arms to protect yourself from the cold. “Of course. I grew up surrounded by this world, but it’s not just the family name. It’s everything it represents: the history, the tifosi, the constant struggle to be the best. It’s not easy to live with it, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Charles was silent for a moment, processing your words. Then he smiled, a soft but sincere gesture. “It’s funny. All that you describe is what scares me and excites me at the same time. Being at Ferrari means so much more than being a fast driver. It’s… something bigger.”

You turned to him, studying him carefully. There was something about his honesty that disarmed you, a rarity in a world full of appearances. “And you think you’re ready for it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging. “But I want to try. And I’ll do my best to prove that I’m worthy of it.”

The determination in his voice made you smile. “That’s what I like about you. You’re not afraid to admit your doubts, but you’re not afraid to face them either.”

He stared at you, as if he was trying to figure something out in you. “And you? Have you always been this sure of yourself?”

The question took you by surprise. You looked down for a moment before answering. “Not always. But when you grow up in this family, you learn to hide your insecurities.”

Before the conversation could go any deeper, one of the attendants called out to you from a distance. “Y/N, you’re needed inside.”

You sighed, but not before giving Charles one last smile. "Don't let them intimidate you in there. And remember: Ferrari is more than a car, it's a family."

The real change in your relationship came weeks later, when Ferrari made the official announcement that Charles would be a driver for the 2019 season. The news flooded the headlines and thrilled the tifosi, who saw him as the future of the team. That evening, you hosted a private dinner at your family villa in Maranello, inviting only a few people close to the team, including Charles.

"Thank you for inviting me," Charles said when he arrived, wearing a simple but elegant suit. There was something different in his gaze that night: a mix of confidence and gratitude.

"Of course," you replied as you greeted him. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity to celebrate our new star."

The evening passed quietly, with laughter, anecdotes and toasts to the future. However, you both noticed that your eyes met more often than usual. When dinner ended and the other guests began to leave, Charles was one of the last to stay.

"Would you like to see something special?" You asked, taking a glass of wine and leading him towards the villa's garage.

Inside, covered by tarps, were some of Ferrari's most iconic models, from the first cars created by Enzo to the most modern ones. Charles walked among them in wonder, like a child in a candy store.

"It's amazing," he murmured. "It's like being in a private museum."

"It is," you said, leaning against one of the cars. "Every car here has a story. And now you will be a part of that story."

He stopped in front of you, his expression serious but warm. "I hope I can live up to it. Not just for Ferrari, but for you as well."

The intensity of his words took you by surprise, but you didn't back down. There was something about his sincerity that drew you hopelessly.

"Charles..." you began, but he interrupted you.

“I’m not saying this because you’re from the Errari family or because you’re in a position of power. I’m saying this because you, as a person, inspire me. And I want you to know that I will do everything I can to not let you down.”

For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. And as the silence stretched between you both, Charles took a step towards you. There was no need to say anything else; the moment said it all.

That night marked the start of something special. What had started as a casual connection became a relationship that you both knew would be intense, complicated, but also unique.

After that, the end of 2018 was a whirlwind of emotions for Charles. He had closed his season with Sauber in an exceptional way, earning the respect of the tifosi and securing his place at Ferrari for the following year. But the most unexpected thing for him had been the relationship that had formed with you. During those months, you went from being two occasional acquaintances at events to becoming confidants and something more.

Your meetings, although few due to his constant travels, were full of complicity. He had invited you to accompany him to a couple of races outside Italy, and although you kept everything under a strict low profile, the members of the paddock were beginning to notice that there was something between you. The candlelit dinners, the walks through Maranello and the deep conversations.

For Charles, you were much more than a "Ferrari". You were someone who understood him, someone who saw beyond the image of a promising driver. For you, Charles was a breath of fresh air in a world full of appearances. In him, you found someone honest, humble and passionate.

However, you both knew that things would change in 2019. With Charles officially becoming a Ferrari driver, the attention on both of you would increase, and you would have to decide how you would face what was to come together.

When the 2019 season began, everything changed. Not only was Charles Ferrari's new rising star, he also unwittingly became the centre of media attention. The relationship between the two, which until then had remained in the shadows, inevitably began to come to light.

The first time photographers caught you together was at the Monaco Grand Prix. You were in the paddock, leaning against a railing as you talked animatedly to Charles. You were wearing a red outfit that paid homage to the Scuderia, and your laughter echoed above the roar of the engines. The media was quick to dub you the “prince and princess of Ferrari.”

“Does all this attention bother you?” Charles asked you that afternoon, as you walked together through the Monte Carlo harbor.

“A little,” you admitted, adjusting your sunglasses. “But I also know it’s inevitable. I guess we’ll just have to learn to handle it together.”

Charles nodded, taking your hand gently. “We will.”

It was an intense year, full of challenges for both of you. Charles had to deal with the pressure of being a Ferrari driver, while you were constantly surrounded by the critical eyes of the press and tifosi, who analyzed your every move. Far from separating them, however, those challenges brought them closer together.

The moments they shared off the track became their refuge. There were days when Charles would arrive exhausted after a difficult race, and you would call him to give him words of encouragement. There were also nights when you, exhausted, would find comfort in his embrace.

By 2020, you were no longer just a couple at Ferrari; you were the couple. Cameras followed you everywhere, and social media couldn't stop talking about you. Photos of you at Formula 1 galas, at private Scuderia events, and even on vacation in Italy went viral instantly.

The tifosi loved how they represented the essence of Ferrari: Charles was the young driver full of talent and promise, and you, the sophisticated and passionate woman who seemed to be the embodiment of the Ferrari legacy. No matter where they were, together they projected an image of perfection that fascinated the world.

However, behind the flashes, things were not always easy. The 2020 season was a complicated year for Ferrari, with performance issues testing Charles as a driver. For him, it was frustrating to go from being a constant contender to fighting to stay in the top 10. There were times when tensions were palpable, but you always found a way to remind him of his worth.

“Charles,” you told him one night after a disappointing race at Spa, as you both sat on the balcony of his hotel room. “You are not just a Ferrari driver. You are the future of Ferrari. Enzo always said that difficult races are the ones that make true champions. And you are one of them.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Luckily, you won’t have to find out,” you replied with a smile.

That mutual strength was what made you two so special. While Charles faced the challenges of the track, you struggled to keep outside pressures at bay, defending your relationship from rumors and criticism.

By the end of 2020, you were more than a couple; you were a symbol. The prince and princess of Ferrari, two figures who represented everything the brand stood for: history, passion, and the promise of a bright future.

What no one imagined was that beneath that image of perfection, the first cracks were beginning to form. Because, although the love you felt for each other was real, the demands of your worlds were not always compatible.

The end of 2020 marked a turbulent time both on and off the track. Ferrari was facing one of its worst seasons in years, and while Charles continued to show his talent, the car simply wasn’t up to par. You, for your part, had been dealing with the mounting pressures of your family name: new projects, the constant expectation that you represent Ferrari at key events, and increasing scrutiny over your relationship with Charles.

Through it all, you never let the internal tensions leak outward. To the world, you were still the couple. You were seen smiling at events, with Charles looking at you as if you were his anchor, and you showing yourself unwavering, like the pillar holding him up. But what no one saw was the distance that was beginning to form between you.

The breaking point began subtly, with small misunderstandings and differences that you had previously managed with grace.

During the final races of the season, you noticed that Charles was more distant. Although he remained affectionate with you in public, in private his attention seemed to be elsewhere. His days were consumed by endless team meetings, interviews, and hours of work trying to squeeze the maximum potential out of an unresponsive car. When he came home, he was exhausted, and conversations between the two of you were reduced to an exchange of short sentences.

“How was it today?” you asked, waiting for an answer that never came with any depth.

“Good, the usual,” he would reply, often without looking at you, lost in thought.

It wasn’t Charles’ fault, you knew. The weight he carried on his shoulders was immense, and you wanted to be understanding. But you couldn’t help but feel displaced, as if your place in his life had taken a backseat.

For your part, you were dealing with your own problems as well. Your family expected you to take a more active role in the company, and every step you took was scrutinized. The endless meetings, strategic decisions, and social expectations were draining you. There were nights when you sat alone in your Maranello apartment, wondering if this was the life you really wanted.

The night of the final race of the season, in Abu Dhabi, you decided you needed to talk. You had prepared dinner in the hotel suite, hoping to reconnect before heading back to Italy. Charles arrived late, tired but trying not to show it.

“This looks amazing,” he commented, cracking a smile as he sat across from you.

“I wanted us to close the year with something special,” you replied, trying to hide the anxiety in your voice.

For a while, the conversation flowed as before. You talked about the race, the tifosi, and even joked about how the media had called you “Ferrari royalty” in a recent article. But then, the tone changed.

“Charles, I’ve been thinking,” you began, hands shaking slightly. “Do you think… we’re okay?”

He looked up, surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve grown apart,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper. “We don’t talk like we used to anymore, we don’t spend time together. I feel like all of this—” you gestured vaguely at the world around them, “—is consuming us.”

Charles sighed, setting his fork down on the table. “I know. I’ve felt the same way. But I thought… that it was temporary. That after this season, things would get better.”

“What if they don’t?” you asked, facing the fear you’d been suppressing for months.

For a moment, Charles didn’t say anything. His silence was like a confirmation of what you both feared: that the weight of your individual lives was overshadowing what you had together.

“I love you,” he finally said, with a sincerity that almost brought tears to your eyes. "But I don't know if I'm being fair to you. I don't know if I can be the person you need right now."

The decision wasn't made in one night, but that conversation marked the beginning of the end. Over the following weeks, both tried to hold on to what they had, but silences were more frequent than words, and the emotional distance became increasingly evident.

The news of their separation came in January 2021, shortly after the Christmas holidays. There were no official statements or public explanations; they simply stopped appearing together, and rumours began to circulate.

The paddock was in shock. Neither of them had given any indication of trouble, and for the tifosi, they represented perfection. But those who knew them closely knew the truth: there was no big fight, no betrayal, just the inevitable wear and tear of two people trapped in worlds that demanded too much of them.

The last time you saw him was at a Ferrari event in early 2021. He was beaming, smiling at photographers as he spoke to management. When your eyes met, he gave you a small, almost melancholic smile, which you returned with a similar gesture.

There were no words, but they didn't need to be. You both knew that what you had was unique, special, and that it would always be a part of you. But you also knew that you had made the right decision, even if it hurt.

The prince and princess of Ferrari had split up, leaving the world baffled and the tifosi heartbroken.

The months following the breakup were like a whirlwind, even though neither of you openly acknowledged it. You and Charles had decided to keep the reasons for the end of your relationship private, but that only fueled the speculation. The media kept wondering what had happened between the prince and princess of Ferrari, and the tifosi couldn't accept that something so perfect had fallen apart for no apparent reason.

Despite the noise, you both tried to move on, each in your own way. But as they tried to build new routines, the world kept watching, waiting for some sign, some word that would explain the inexplicable.

The first image of Charles with another woman appeared one day in March. It was a casual photograph, taken by a fan in Monte Carlo. Charles was in a café, smiling as he chatted with a blonde, light-eyed girl. It didn't seem like a romantic encounter, but the closeness between the two and the carefree smile on Charles' face unleashed a wave of comments.

“Who is she?”

“Has she replaced her already?”

“She’s probably her cousin or something, Charles wouldn’t do this.”

For your part, you tried to ignore it. You knew Charles had the right to move on, as did you, but you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach as fans began to theorize about his love life.

It wasn’t long before you were making headlines too. A few weeks later, during a gala event in Milan, you arrived accompanied by an Italian businessman known for his charisma and fortune. He offered you his arm as you walked down the red carpet, and although you maintained a professional smile, the camera flashes captured something that the media interpreted as complicity.

The reaction was not long in coming.

“She already has a boyfriend? This can’t be real.”

“Charles and her were perfect, this doesn’t make sense.”

“The princes of Ferrari are dating commoners now, apparently.”

Social media became a battleground between fans. There were those who supported the idea of ​​the two moving on with their lives, but there were also those who clung to the hope of a reconciliation. Every photo of Charles with his supposed new partner was analyzed in detail, and the same was true for you.

On your Instagram profile, the comments were a reflection of the tifosi's pain:

"Please tell me this isn't true."

"Why did you break up? I never understood it."

"Get back together, there's still time."

Charles faced the same thing. Even in the simplest photos — an afternoon training or a day on the simulator — the responses were full of mentions of you.

"Everything is more boring without Princess Ferrari."

"I hope you're happy, but I'll never forget what you had."

Neither you nor Charles made any comments on the matter. You both knew that any statement would only fuel further speculation, and the last thing you wanted was to turn your past relationship into a public spectacle.

At Ferrari events, it was inevitable that your paths would cross, although you always kept your distance. During a presentation of the Scuderia for the 2021 season, you sat in the front row next to the management, while Charles took his place on the stage, talking about his expectations for the year.

Your eyes met for a brief second. It was enough for the photographers to capture the moment, but not enough for either of you to show any obvious emotion. You held his gaze calmly, while he quickly turned his gaze towards the audience.

After the event, you avoided the cocktail party that followed. You knew the media would be waiting for any interaction between you, and you weren't about to fuel any more rumors. However, as you were leaving, you received a text on your phone.

"I saw you left early. I hope you're okay."

It was from Charles.

You read it a few times before pocketing your phone without responding. Although the message seemed innocent, it only made the emptiness in your chest feel heavier.

Despite appearances, moving on wasn't easy for either of you. Charles could put on a smile next to his new companion, but in moments of solitude, he found his mind drifting back to the days he shared with you. The walks through Maranello, the conversations in the early morning, even the small arguments over insignificant things: it was all still there, like an echo that refused to go away.

You weren't immune either. Although you were dating someone new, you hadn't felt that connection you once had with Charles. Every time you saw their name in the headlines, your heart beat a little faster, and images of what was and what could have been filled your mind.

Still, you both kept going, at least in the eyes of the world. The smiles at events, the carefully curated posts on social media, everything seemed to indicate that you had put the past behind you. But the others seemed unwilling to let it go.

The tifosi kept waiting. In every Ferrari post, in every interview, in every public appearance, someone always asked about you.

"Will you come back one day?"

"You were the heart of Ferrari."

"Without you, this is not the same anymore."

And although neither you nor Charles answered, that question kept hanging in the air, like a wound that time did not quite heal. Because although you had gone your separate ways, the world was not ready to forget you.

And, perhaps, deep down, neither were you.

[biapascal]

I have a request pretty pls 🙏 could you maybe write a lil sumn about the reader/oc being married to acacius in a diplomatic marriage to prevent war and show that her country surrenders and they sent her as like a prisoner of war/hostage princess situation. the reader/oc loves Marcus but doesn't think he'd choose to love her over roman beauties and Marcus doesn't want to force her into anything bc of the politics. With like whole lots of yearning, jealousy, angst and oh, more yearning, and the delicious most happiest of endings pls pls pls

Hi honey! 🫶🏻✨ I hope this is enough 🪶

Duties

Tw: forced marriage, loss of virginity mentioned.

First, they killed your soldiers while destroying your city. You saw the streets you walked in your childhood reduced to ruins. The houses were graveyards. They have taken everything and everyone away from you, even from your family. When they brought you to Rome, you were apparently too pretty to be killed. You could have been a slave, but the emperors had other plans for you. You became the general's wife. As your husband, your life was his property as well as your body. In Rome, before the wedding, the girl is supposed to leave everything from her childhood home behind. You couldn't do that because you had nothing left. They took care of you on your wedding day. You had to be a pretty thing for your future husband, nothing more than a doll, like one of those you used to play with as a child. During the ceremony, Acacius was stoic. You were forced to smile and had the impression that he knew this, but couldn't tell what he thought about it. It was almost as if marriage to a beautiful woman was a duty and not a gift from the gods. You were then taken to the house of Marcus for the last rites that would lead to the loss of your dignity. Paradoxically, your husband should have cleansed you with spring water. Meanwhile, the thalamus was prepared. Crocus flowers, considered by the Romans to be a powerful aphrodisiac, were scattered on it. After these rites, you were undressed by an older maid, who also removed ornaments and jewelry that could be dangerous to your husband. you were naked, shivering, your eyes colder than your body. Your sight was blurry and you tried not to look at him. "Can we blow out the candles?" you asked the maid. She shook her head. "You have to see him, now I'll leave you two alone." You finally looked at Marcus and you didn't care that he was a trained general, you would never let that man deflower you. You would rather be killed than to have to carry his child. "Just kill me already, because you are not taking me tonight" you spat. He didn't react. You reached for something to cover your shaking body and jumped when you felt his hand on your arm. "I'm not going to take your virginity tonight." Your expression hardened. "Be a good wife, do as I say, go where I suggest, but know that I won't rape you.” He seemed so serious, you almost couldn't believe it. Then he also covered himself. "Now lie down” he ordered. You slowly did as he said. "Tomorrow they will ask you what happened tonight. Lie, tell them it was painful" you nodded, holding your breath. You fell asleep crying, but you were glad he didn't touch you. The next day, as expected, everyone asked about the first night of marriage. Lying wasn't hard, the other women believed you right away. Life in Rome was depressing. You missed your hometown, the way your people used to act, the typical food. You missed your family, the laughter of the children, your own laughter. Every night Marcus was aware of it and heard you sobbing. He knew it was his fault. The emperors wanted a Roman world, without borders. He was forced to kill and take things from people, but he was not used to it. With you he was gentle, you found yourself searching for him more than once, and you hated yourself for it. "Can I talk to you?" You were in the garden, praying to your ancestors. You nodded and he sat down. "The Romans are greedy. We don't want freedom, we want power."

"We?" you caught him off guard. "No, actually I don't care about power, but I don't expect you to believe me" you gave him a lame smile. "I have to do what the emperors want, and what they wanted back then was your city.” He apologized and you couldn't forgive him. But you felt he was being honest.

February came, the month of rebirth, the Romans had to pay homage to the god Lupercus, and you were still a virgin. the passage to adulthood and the fertility of women was celebrated. Rome was chaotic and several women and men approached you. It was clear that you wanted Marcus to be with you. You couldn't find him and were pulled into the middle of the crowd. He had always given you the impression of being a man true to his own integrity. But you did not know if he was in a brothel on this occasion. "The General's wife!" Two men grabbed your hand and you tried to free yourself. "Come on" they dragged you away from the crowd, and you begged them to let you go. "You should be used to this" one of them said. They were beginning to get irritated with your stubbornness. They were in a hurry to have a look at you and consume you. “Let me enjoy my wife” Marcus arrived. “Won’t you share her with us?” He kissed your cheek and shook his head. "No, I won't share my treasure." You felt strange, you really enjoyed that touch. After that night, you began to soften and you began to know your husband more and more. He was tired, he didn't care about expanding the empire, he just wanted to rest. He was kind to almost everyone, except the emperors. He was wise. He taught you about his ancestors, and you gained the courage to tell him about yours. The nights became your favorite time, you spent hours talking and learning from each other. This was your yearning for intimacy. One night you felt like there were other things you wanted to know, other ways to know him. "I have to be honest with you, Marcus" he nodded. "I'm glad you're my husband. You told me to follow your instructions, but what you have done these months is let me grieve, you have even protected me. Am I still a gift of war or something else?" He approached, his face dangerously close to yours. You felt your cheeks burn crimson. "No” he looked at your lips. "If I may, I'd like to kiss you." You nodded and then felt it. The fear was gone, the mourning was done.

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.5 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Drinking, Swearing, Fighting, morning after regrets, flashbacks(2x) , mentions of cheating, previous relationship trauma, college flashback, stupid ex boyfriend, bothering yoongi (cause he deserves to be bothered), vic laughs in your face, yeah more confusing feelings ❥word-count: 8.8k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Four Years Ago - Just before Melanie and Namjoon met. 

“Holy shit.” You set down your drink on the table. Your eyes landing on Jungkook, who just happened to enter the same bar you and your friends decided to have a night out at. 

Who you haven’t seen in a year.

It was just a casual outing and you had a rough shift so a few drinks were going to hit the spot for you right now. You and Melanie invited Ash to join you to hang out. She was a new friend to the both of you and you really wanted to get to know her better. No better way than to have a few drinks and sit and talk.

Ash, glanced in the direction you were looking. “What is it?” 

You shake your head and take another sip of your drink, tracking Jungkook across the bar as he seemed to greet some guys he seemed to know. 

“Oh it’s nothing. Just some guy I knew in college.” You try to brush it off, tracing the rim of your drink. The past frustrations are bubbling up.

“Which one?” Melanie leaned close, as you pointing him out subtly trying not to pull focus to your little group. “Oh wow. He’s cute, did you guys date or something?” 

You stifle a laugh, “No, I fucking hate that guy.” 

“What happened?” Ash tilted her head glancing over to Jungkook. Her curiosity peaked. 

“Oh it’s a long story.” You wave your hand trying to breeze past to another subject. 

“Oh come on spill.” Melanie bumped her shoulder into yours, encouraging you to open up. You and Melanie had only known each other a few months and although you had gotten close pretty quickly. This Jungkook thing was old news and not something you even had to worry about anymore.

“He’s just an ass. We got into a huge fight and I said some things, he said some things and we can’t stand each other. This is the first time I’ve seen him since.” You try to keep the details as vague as possible.

“Damn that sucks.” Melanie nodded, “It wasn’t’ like a secret love affair or something scandalous like that?” She teased and your eyes shot open in shock.

“Yeah if I ever sleep with that guy, someone needs to get me a brain scan because something is seriously wrong with me.” You laughed giving a nonchalant wave of your hand, as if brushing off the question.

Ash pursed her lips, “I mean… He’s cute so maybe you would be totally sane.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

“Awe crap.” Jungkook ran a hand over his face as he sat up in his bed. The whole night comes back in a quick flash. 

It was real though… the two of you had slept together… again.

You sat in a frustrated but dumbfounded daze next to him. Silent, staring at the ground. Recounting every single step from the night before. How Jungkook found you buried in the sea of people. Helped you get to the bathroom, one second you were fighting and then the next… 

You both stayed silent like this for just a moment before you took the pillow behind you swinging it around to hit Jungkook. “You idiot.” 

Jungkook blocked himself from getting hit in just enough time. “What?” 

You swung the pillow again, hitting his arms with a thud. “Stupid dumb idiot.” You really weren’t sure if you were saying this to him or to yourself now. Felt good to take the frustration out on him with the pillow. 

“You think I planned this!” Jungkook spat back with you in annoyance, “I’m clearly just as shocked as you are.” You swung the pillow one more time to hit him but this time Jungkook grabs it. “Stop!” 

You get up from the bed with an exaggerated groan, mumbling some things under your breath. You walked and grabbed your pants pulling them back up your legs with some frustration and force. “Shut up. Make me. What the hell was that?” 

As you quickly dressed, your phone slipped out of your pocket and clattered to the floor. You snatched it up, wincing as the screen lit up: almost 9 AM. You didn’t have any pressing plans today, but staying here was the last thing you wanted.

Jungkook got up from his bed. Jungkook, still standing, watched you with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, and what about you? Kiss me, Jungkook.” He pitched his voice in a high, mocking imitation of you.

You shot him an incredulous look, pointing at him angrily. “I do not sound like that.” You storm past him, shoving him, grabbing your bra. “What about you? Let’s get out of here and I prefer a bed.” You pitched your voice as well to mock him back. 

“Well I do.” He nods his head to the side but then shakes his head, “Not the point. You wanted it just as bad as I did.” 

You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping. “Fine, whatever. Maybe I did. But I swear you placed some demonic spell on me.”

“I should be the one checking myself for hex’s if anything!”  Jungkook says, checking out his arms and chest dramatically. 

You stormed out of the room, your eyes now adjusting to the daylight as you glanced at his apartment. It looked completely different now. His place was so nice and clean. Well put together and he actually had things well decorated. How annoying. Jungkook threw on a pair of sweatpants and followed you down the hallway, his tone turning serious.

You bent down to put on your shoes, frustration bubbling up as you fumbled with the laces. “I don’t do hookups. I’m too busy. What a load of crap!”

Jungkook leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. “Hey, that’s true! Between the trial I’ve got coming up and all the other crap in my life, I’m genuinely surprised.”

You narrowed your eyes, not slowing down as you tried to shove your other shoe onto your foot. “Yeah, like I’m supposed to believe that.”

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Says the one who swore after last time this would never happen again.” He looked at you with a smirk, his gaze unwavering. “I remember that pretty clearly. You always keep your word, so what happened?”

You froze mid-motion, turning to face him with a frustrated, exasperated sigh. “I had a lot to drink, my judgement was skewed. Okay?”

Jungkook’s smirk deepened, and he stepped closer, his voice teasing but with an edge of something more. “So did I. Still doesn’t explain why we’re here, does it?”

You paused, a bitter laugh escaping you as you patted your pockets, checking for your keys. “I don’t even know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh at how big of an idiot I am, or cry about ending up in bed with you again.”

You yanked the front door open, spinning on your heel just before it slammed shut, giving him a sarcastic middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, calling after you. “Fuck off!”

The door slammed shut behind you, and you darted down the hallway, the elevator feeling like the only escape. You needed to get out of there, fast. You needed to breathe. To feel something that wasn’t this—whatever this was.

The moment you stepped into the elevator, your mind flooded with flashes from the night before. The elevator doors shut, but in your mind, it felt like you were still there with him, every second replaying itself in vivid detail. You remembered the way he kissed you, the way he touched you, the way your body betrayed you. How you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You were fighting and then you were in it.

What the hell was that? You didn’t have an answer, only questions swirling in your head.

And why… did it feel so good?

You couldn’t shake the image of his face, between your legs, from your mind for the rest of the day. It lingered with you, haunting every moment. You forced yourself into a cold shower just so you could force yourself to not think about anything other than keeping yourself warm. You tried to stay busy, distracting yourself from the truth that kept creeping back. That whatever skills Jungkook had with his tongue had left its mark on you, and you wouldn’t easily forget it.

You weren’t the only one haunted. 

As good as Jungkook was at pushing things from his mind, this was not something he could easily do this time. He couldn’t get the moments in the bathroom out of his mind, how just for one moment you both just surrendered and you actually laughed at him. Felt like you could be friends almost. You may have looked like friends to anyone else… very complicated friends. 

It’s not like there wasn’t a time when you two couldn’t have been friends. 

In fact there was a time when you were friends, before it all went south. 

Jungkook had been thinking about that time more often lately, about how you two bridged the gap before. Which was really funny to think about now, considering this week. That there ever was a time where you two really got along, and got along well. 

Funny enough it was a pretty similar instance to every time you encountered each other this last week.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Five years ago

You decided a break was long overdue. Between the mountain of homework and David, your ex, relentless texting you, your mind felt like it was on the verge of imploding. A quick walk to the convenience store on the edge of campus seemed like the perfect way to clear your head, just enough to get back to work without screaming into your pillow.

David has been spending weeks trying to get ahold of you. Trying to explain himself again and make you look like an idiot again because he’s convinced you twice to get back together with him, why not one more time? 

The store’s door jingled as you pushed it open, a wave of cool air brushing past you. The cashier barely glanced up from his phone as you headed straight for the energy drinks. Your eyes scanned the rows until you grabbed two cans—one for tonight and one for the impending hell of tomorrow.

You turned, heading to the snacks, but as soon as you rounded the corner of the aisle, you collided with someone.

“Shit—” you muttered, barely managing to keep hold of your drinks.

“Maybe look where you’re going,” came the familiar, clipped voice. Of course coming from Jungkook.

You blinked at him, your stomach twisting with instant irritation. “Oh.”

Jungkook just brushed past you. You had spent several weeks of your project meeting together to work but you had been icing him out. He had tried to smooth things over, even had a friend come and try to decipher what issue you had with him was. You really had nothing to say to your ex’s friends after what happened. Seems Jungkook has finally gotten the hint you didn’t want to be friends and just wanted to get this project over with.

You rolled your eyes, clutching the cans tighter as you moved to the shelf beside him, pretending he wasn’t there. His presence, of course, was hard to ignore, especially when he turned his head to glance at your selection.

Jungkook had become pretty fed up with your cold shoulder. He had tried being nice but your weeks of angry muttering and silence really got under his skin. When he had no idea what he had even done wrong, and with how his week had been going he didn’t really have any patience left for you. He grabbed what he liked but the both of you had ended up in the same aisle again. 

You both took a small glance at what the other had collected. 

“Really? Energy drinks and chips? Healthy.” He remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Your face twisted in some confusion at his comment,“Really? Beer and a box of instant noodles? Classy,” you shot back without missing a beat, nodding at his haul.

“Didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on my diet.” He said, deadpan, before turning his attention to the shelf again.

“I just have eyes.” You grabbed a pack of granola bars and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

Jungkook had noticed your recent choice of beverage from your last few meet ups for the project. Always the same and always two. “You know, those won’t magically help you stay awake. Might want to try water—or sleep.”

“Wow. Riveting advice, Jungkook,” you said over your shoulder. “Maybe next time, write a self-help book. Call it How to Be Annoying in Five Easy Steps.”

His lip curled into a half-smirk. “And you’d call yours How to Be Petty Without Even Trying.”

“Catchy,” you shot back. “I’ll let you write the foreword.”

“Pass. I’d rather not waste my time.”

“Then stop talking to me,” you snapped, giving him a pointed glare before brushing past him.

Jungkook leaves you alone, doesn’t even entertain you anymore. That was fine though, you needed to get back to your homework. You checkout with your stuff and get out of there pretty quickly. Pushing the door open, you start home but are immediately greeted with satan in the flesh. 

“Oh god damn it, I cannot catch a break.” A puff of air leaves your lungs, exhaustion setting in. “How did you even know where I was David?”

“Baby I know everything about you. You always come here on your study days. Which is always Thursdays. Around this time.” He says it so matter of fact, because he does know you too well. It made your skin crawl. 

“I’m not your baby.” You try to walk past him but he steps in front of you. “Stop texting,  stop calling, and don’t ever show up somewhere I frequent again. It’s creepy.”

“Please just hear me out.” He starts but you put a hand up to him and push him away.

“No David, because you will make the same promises that you have made me over and over again. Once again making me look stupid. You give me the same stupid speech every time that I ‘am the one’, and it was a ‘mistake’, and that it was ‘just a one time thing’, and that ‘I’m so special to you’, blah blah blah.” You rub the side of your head with your free hand that doesn’t have your bag. 

“I was wrong, every single time I was wrong. I’m here because I know you, I know that in that bag you have two energy drinks because you are going to drink one tonight and you are going to keep one for another day!” He keeps blocking your way, you keep trying to step around him but he’s not going to let you go until he gets his whole speech out. 

“So what? You know one thing about me? Anyone who spends any amount of time around me knows that!” 

“That’s not all. I know you. I know how you look when you are frustrated about something and you scrunch up your nose.” He took a step forward but you maintain the same distance between the both of you. “I know that you say you are a fan of action movies but you much prefer something funny or thought provoking.”

“Please stop.”

“I’m not here to give you the same speech again. I want you. We will graduate and I want the life we talked about forever ago. I’m not making the same promises like before. I will do anything to prove to you I am the most serious I have ever been.” David begged, he was making that same face he made very single time. One that made you believe it but you weren’t falling for it anymore, you were just pissed off now.

Right at that moment you heard the store door close behind you. Great, just great. Now Jungkook gets to experience this embarrassing moment for you. Since he’s one of David’s closest friends, probably help him. Say something like ‘David is so awesome and amazing’. You turn to look at Jungkook, who seemed to be confused about what was transpiring in front of him. David has stopped talking at this point and is also looking over atJungkook. 

Jungkook observing the both of you, he could tell something is off. 

“Hey man.” David calls over to him, voice suddenly diffused and cheerful, and he waves a little. “Haven’t seen you around, how’s it going?”

“Uhh,” Jungkook looked at his plan of escape and seemed to abandon it but didn’t come closer to the two of you. “Good man, Just busy.” 

You were trapped. You wouldn’t be able to get out of this, but still the look you gave to Jungkook suggested that you needed help getting out of this situation. You could only hope he sees it, and sees that even if you have been treating him like crap he may be the only person to get David to back off. 

“You should come hang out, everyone misses you. ” David spoke up again, trying to fill the weighing silence between the three of you.

“I’m okay, actually.” Jungkook says, his voice is monotone and unwavering. Almost mad? He took a couple steps closer to the two of you. Jungkook had caught on to your look for help. “Everything okay here?”

He could tell you were extremely uncomfortable, and he knew if David had an idea he wasn’t going to let it go. For whatever reason, that was you right now.

“Yeah, we are just talking really quick.” David spoke in place of you, before you could get a word out. 

David placed a hand on your shoulder and you immediately recoiled away. Jungkook right at that moment got an idea. He had no idea if it would work or if you even really wanted his help. He decided it was worth a shot though. 

“You ready to go?” He spoke directly to you.

It surprised you and you stared at him for a moment with a confused look, one David was unable to see from standing behind you.

“Uhh…” Your eyebrows screw together. 

“You guys know each other?” David stepped into the space that was between you and Jungkook. 

“Not really.” You say, which was the truth. 

“We are working on something together.” Jungkook fills in the blank, almost too quickly after you. He was looking directly at David, and was standing taller now. 

“Well, can we just have a minute?” David asks. His demeanor changed in response to the change in Jungkook’s tone and stance. Defensive. 

Jealous?

“No we need to go.” Jungkook comes over to you and takes the bag out of your hand, adding it to the arm he already had his on. You almost on instinct protest him but hold yourself back. Whatever Jungkook was doing was working and you just might be able to get out of here. Hurricane David would pass.

“Y/N I just need a minute.” David looked a little flustered by the intrusion. 

“No. We are done.” You speak abruptly and move closer to Jungkook’s direction. 

“Seriously?” David looks at you, he was definitely frustrated, and that filled you with sense of relief. 

“Yeah. Seriously.” You say.

“Head home David.” Jungkook steps backwards in the direction towards campus. “I think it’s time we left as well.”

“Fine, go then.” David snorts, he takes a quick step over to Jungkook, leaning into his ear and then says something else inaudible to you. Which, after a moment, results in Jungkook pushing David harshly away from him. 

“Hey let’s go.” You grab onto Jungkook’s arm and you head towards the direction of the dorms. Quickly. David doesn’t get another word in, you and Jungkook kept the same pace and moved in quick silence. 

“What a fucking douche.” Jungkook finally says once you guys are far enough away. 

“I thought you were friends?” You ask, now confused. Wasn’t he like Jungkook’s best friend? That’s how David always described him.

“Not anymore.” He looks at you, “I hope he didn’t bug you too much.” 

“Oh, he will. He’s probably going to text me any minute.” You dread it in fact. He was annoyingly persistent in the times you guys were… off.

“How do you know him?” 

You let out a sigh. That was a loaded question indeed.

“It’s a very long and taxing story.” 

“Want to talk about it?”

“Maybe after a drink or five.” You shake your head, joking in your tone. 

Jungkook then ruffles around into his bag. Pulling out a can of a drink that was juice and alcohol mixed together. A mango flavor of some kind. You glance at it and then back up to Jungkook.

“I’ve got time.” 

Jungkook walked you back to your dorm. Usually you wouldn’t invite guys up but your roommate was out for the evening and you weren’t too worried about it right now. You both sat on the ground in your room. Opening up your drinks and sitting, and you begin to explain the long complicated history between you and David. How he cheated once, begged you to come back, cheated again, begged you to come back again, and then shocker… cheated again. Then made you out to be the insane one to everyone you knew. David had this uncanny way of just getting into your head and you were not letting it happen this time.

Jungkook just sat silently and listened. He didn’t try to interject or try to defend David in any way. Just let you get it all out. Which just only piqued your curiosity on their relationship even more. Were they not close like you had been told? Did something happen? 

“And so that’s how he ended up here. Seeking me out again.” You take a sip of your second drink for the night.”

“What the fuck is wrong with him.” Jungkook shook his head and took a sip of his drink. 

“And every time, he made me look just more and more like an idiot. For believing that each time he wants me and wants to be really committed. I kept believing it could happen, but every single time the rug is pulled out from under me and everyone is laughing at me for not seeing that he was going to do it again.” You sigh, you sank down onto the floor further. Feeling like it was dragging you down into it.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot. I think he is an asshole.” Jungkook discards his can into the plastic bag that you two had used for garbage. 

“I was nervous when you came out of the store tonight. I thought you guys were still friends.” 

“No, absolutely not. He pulled some crap a couple of months ago and I hope I never see him again. Clearly he thought we were still friends.” Jungkook picked at his fingernails while talking. 

“He calls you his best friend, you know.” You look to see his reaction and Jungkook snorts. 

“That’s rich.” He tilts his head. “He’s certainly not mine. We were pretty close though.” 

“Not close enough to meet me I guess. His on and off girlfriend.” 

Jungkook paused for a second, clearly trying to carefully choose his next words. “He never mentioned you.” 

You sat up, you eyes narrowing for a second. “What?”

Jungkook chewed on his lip for a moment. “He never really mentioned he had a girlfriend. Not around his friends at least. I had no idea he ever had a serious relationship.” 

You blink one and twice for a moment, taking in his words. You’ve met some of David’s other friends, but he never mentioned you? Not even as a fling? You just laugh because it all makes more sense now. It’s a bitter laugh. 

“Great.” You rub your hands over your face, “That just makes me look even dumber when I would go around being like heres a picture of my boyfriend. Maybe I was just a dirty little secret all along.” 

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook didn’t know how to respond. The whole thing just sucked. 

“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you with all of this. You didn’t even know anything. You really didn’t know what he was doing. Any of it.” 

“Wait, all this freezing out and bitterness towards me for weeks had to do with David?” Jungkook scrunched his face at you. 

“Yeah, you were his best friend. As far as I knew at least. I assumed that you had to know about all the stuff he was doing to me and the cheating… I just labeled you an asshole like him.” You fidgeted in your seat a little uncomfortable, and you didn’t look up to him. “It was easier to hate you than to hear you out I guess.”

“Huh.” All the pieces were suddenly falling into place now. for Jungkook. 

“David and I were also so on and off. Makes sense why we never met–”

“And I didn’t remember you when class started.” Jungkook nodded, his jaw open in realization. “Because there was nothing to remember.” Every interaction between the two of you suddenly made so much sense now.

“Yeah so I’m sorry for all the bitterness and undeserving frustration. I really thought you knew and were playing dumb.” You pulled your knees up to your chest, trying to hide yourself away. 

“Trust me, if I had known any of that, I probably would have kicked the crap out of him.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I swear I never knew he was seeing someone. Anytime he mentioned… anyone… he would just say oh this ‘girl I slept with’ or ‘this chick I was with’.” 

It was like a new kick in the chest hearing this new piece of information from Jungkook. David lied to everyone, it wasn’t just you. Some weird comfort in the fact that no one really knows him, not even people he hangs out with all the time. 

“I know now that was all bullshit, I hope you know.” He tries to reassure you. 

“Thanks.” You give him a half smile. “God, now I really feel like an asshole.” 

“Don’t, you didn’t know. None of us knew.” He waves you off, “Water under the bridge now.”

You sigh, “I hope so… Maybe we can start over. Now that you already know I’m kind of an asshole maybe we could actually be friends.” You sip on your drink. 

“Yeah… okay.” Jungkook nods with a small grin at the corner of his mouth. “That would really piss David off.” 

You give him a confused look, “Why would that piss him off?” 

Jungkook sits up crossing his arms, “He has a bit of a complex and I would bet if we were hanging out. His head just might explode.” 

“Oh I would pay to see that.” You laugh under your breath. “Plus being friends will probably make this project a whole lot easier.”

“Don’t speak too soon, we are starting the hardest part this week.” Jungkook groaned a little. 

“Don’t remind me,” You glanced over to you piled homework at the end of your bed, “Speaking of, I should get back to my stuff now. This was nice though, actually… talking.” 

“Yeah, it was.” Jungkook stood as well, he patted his pants checking he had everything he needed. 

You shuffled around in your bag from the convenience store and pulled out a bag of chips and handed them to Jungkook. 

“For helping me, it’s not much but it’s a start.” 

“Anytime. Text me if you need help with the project.” Jungkook accepted your offer. It was a nice first step to actually being friends. Plus your new found bond of hating the same guy also helps. 

With that Jungkook left. You got yourself up off the floor and back onto your bed. Picking up your phone to actually check what time it was but seeing you had missed a handful of texts. Not surprising at all. 

David: come back.

David: pls

David: you expect me to believe you aren’t fucking that guy?

David: hope you have fun.

David: i bet he won’t even be able to get it up for you. 

David: pls answer me.

David: can’t believe you would do this

Wow. Jungkook was right about that complex thing. Except you didn’t need him bothering you anymore. So you finally got up the courage to block his number. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

Jungkook had been back at work for a few days, but something was off. He moved through tasks like a machine—efficient, precise, but utterly lifeless. To most people, it wouldn’t seem like anything was wrong. His work was spotless, his demeanor polite, but to those who really knew him, it was clear something wasn’t right.

Jimin, for one, had definitely noticed. Jungkook was usually social, always cracking jokes or giving over-detailed play-by-plays of his workout routines. This week, though? Radio silence. It was like his body was here, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. Jimin had informed Taehyung of the weird change in Jungkook’s behavior and Taehyung encouraged Jimin to put some pressure on.

Curious—and more than a little nosy—Jimin sauntered over to Jungkook’s desk, a file in hand. Jungkook was hunched over his computer, eyes glued to the screen, typing furiously.

“Hey, I need the paperwork for the Johnson case,” Jimin said, leaning against the edge of the desk.

“Uh-huh. I’ll get that right away,” Jungkook replied without looking up, his tone flat and mechanical.

Jimin narrowed his eyes. Yep, Jungkook wasn’t listening.

“Oh, and you’re in charge of picking up two-thousand cupcakes for the office party in two hours,” Jimin added casually, watching for a reaction.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, still typing.

Jimin smirked, crossing his arms. “Cool. While you’re at it, I’ll invite Y/N to the office. Maybe she can snap you out of whatever funk this is.”

The reaction was immediate. Jungkook froze, his fingers hovering above the keyboard, his foot—previously tapping incessantly—stopping mid-bounce. Slowly, he turned to Jimin, his wide-eyed expression betraying a mix of panic and guilt.

“Y/N is coming here?” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat, trying to recover. “Why would you do that? Wh—Why would you invite Y/N here?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the overreaction. “Relax, I was joking. She’s not coming.”

“Oh,” Jungkook muttered, turning back to his computer a little too quickly. “Right. Joking. Cool.”

Jimin didn’t let it go. He leaned in closer, scrutinizing Jungkook like he was a puzzle to solve. “Why the sudden jumpiness at the mention of Y/N? You were so calm and collected about them last week.”

“I’m not jumpy,” Jungkook said immediately, his tone defensive. “I just… thought it was weird. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Jimin wasn’t buying it. He knew Jungkook too well. “Okay, spill. What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all week—more robotic than usual. Did something happen?”

“No,” Jungkook said, a little too quickly.

Jimin crossed his arms. “Lying isn’t your strong suit, Jungkook.”

“I’m not lying,” Jungkook insisted, avoiding eye contact.

Jimin smirked knowingly. “Uh-huh. Because you have been walking around here like you’ve seen a ghost or something the last few days.”

Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. Haven’t slept super well. Can we not do this right now?”

“Fine,” Jimin said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “But whatever’s eating you, you should probably deal with it before the trial tomorrow. Can’t have our golden boy flubbing his arguments because his brain’s stuck on something else.”

Jungkook glared at him but didn’t respond, turning back to his computer.

As Jimin walked away, he couldn’t help but grin. Something had definitely happened, and now he just had to figure out what.

Jungkook sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. His thoughts were a tangled mess, and no amount of work could drown them out. This whole situation with you had him rattled in a way he couldn’t explain.

Normally, this would’ve been easy to brush off. It wasn’t guilt because there was nothing to feel guilty about. And it wasn’t shame either—no one knew what had happened between you two, and even if they did, he wasn’t the type to care about whispers.

So why couldn’t he shake this feeling? He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. He could only imagine a huge reason is this is really the only time he has slept with someone outside of being in a relationship with them. It was strange for sure, especially because it’s not just that it’s someone random…

It was you.

Jungkook can only assume he feels so out of sorts because of those two factors. He also has no intention of getting into a relationship with you. So you were right, although he would never admit it to you, this should never happen again. It was completely throwing Jungkook off, and he can conclude Taehyung’s stupid theory is wrong. Plus it was not helping your relationship, you two were still acting exactly the same as before… plus sex. 

“What are you even doing?” Jungkook muttered as he leaned back in his desk chair. 

His phone buzzed on the desk, the vibration breaking through the noise in his head. He glanced at the screen, his shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw Namjoon’s name.

Namjooooooon: Hey mel and I are planning to get everyone together Saturday. You in?

Namjooooooon: ps y/n will probably be there. Melanie misses them too much to not invite them… 

Jungkook paused thinking if it would be a good idea. You two hadn’t parted exactly well but not as explosively as other times. He could keep himself in check for sure. He just wasn’t too sure if all this time he was sending around you was withering him away or not. 

Jk: I’ll be there.

With that he placed his phone back on the table, forcing himself to dive back into his work. He had a long day and an even longer few weeks ahead of him and he needed to stay focussed. He needed to put a pin in whatever this feeling is and deal with it maybe another time. 

On the other hand, you had done a great job at not having any feelings at all.

You had managed to push everything from the weekend out of your mind—or at least, you told yourself you had. You threw yourself into work with the kind of laser focus that made your coworkers pause. It was probably the most productive you’d been in weeks. Charts updated. Paperwork completed. Patients checked. You almost didn’t feel like yourself, but that was the point, wasn’t it?

Unfortunately, in your single-minded determination to stay busy, you’d also been unintentionally dodging Vic. She’d tried to grab you a few times, but somehow, you always managed to slip away with the excuse of an urgent task. You told yourself it was for the best. If anyone was going to see the guilt of the weekend written all over your face, it was her.

Still, as well as you were doing at shoving your questionable life choices into a mental box labeled “Ignore Forever”, your thoughts betrayed you sometimes. The absurdity of it all would creep in at random moments. Like now, as you absentmindedly flipped through patient charts at the nurses’ station. You couldn’t help but think about a time when the idea of even entertaining the thought of Jungkook would’ve sent you to the ER, convinced you were having a mental breakdown.

Maybe you really did need professional help.

As if on cue, Yoongi plopped down at the station, clearly in no mood for nonsense as he typed furiously at the computer. Perfect. A distraction. You slid your chair closer, the sound of the wheels catching his attention.

“Yoongi,” you whined, leaning dramatically into his personal space.

He didn’t even look at you, just sighed as though bracing for whatever chaos you were about to bring. “What can I do for you Y/N?”

“What are all the symptoms of a brain tumor?” you asked, propping your chin on your hands.

Yoongi froze for half a second, then slowly turned his head to look at you. “Why? Do you think one of the patients is exhibiting some strange behavior?” His voice was flat, but the shift in his tone betrayed his concern.

“Nope,” you said breezily. “I’m asking for me.”

One eyebrow shot up, but he still didn’t miss a beat on his keyboard. “Well, I’m pretty sure you don’t have a brain tumor.” He finally finished typing and swiveled his chair to face you fully. “But just to be safe, you can always page one of the neuro dude bros. That’s their thing, not mine.” 

Yoongi knew that most of the nurses, including yourself, had a major distaste for the neuro residents. The guys in particular were acting like it was a frat. It was his way of teasing.

“Ugh, I hate all the neuro residents,” you groaned, flopping back in your chair. “You, however, are conveniently here and a very qualified doctor.”

He smiled faintly, clearly unimpressed. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

You gasped, clutching your chest in fake betrayal. “Come on, one little head CT. I’ll even write you a glowing review on RateMDs.”

“Sure,” he deadpanned, standing and ruffling your hair as he moved to leave. “Let’s just order an expensive, unnecessary scan for fun. I’m sure Dr. Kim will love that.”

You trotted after him as he headed for the elevator. “Hear me out. What if I do have a brain tumor? We could be solving a medical mystery together. Dr. Kim would forgive us in a heartbeat!”

He snorted as the elevator doors opened. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“This isn’t over!” You called as the doors closed on his smirk. Defeated, you trudged back to the nurses’ station and sank into your chair, picking up where you left off with your paperwork. You were so close to the finish line, so close to clocking out, when Vic’s voice cut through the hum of the station like a scalpel.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Slowly, you turned in your chair to face her. Vic was leaning casually against the half-wall of the nurses’ station, arms crossed, her expression far too knowing for your comfort.

“What? No!” you said quickly, too quickly. “I’ve just been… busy.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she pushed off the wall and grabbed the chair next to you, plopping down with an audible sigh. “You’ve been a blur all week,” she said, propping her chin on her hand. “Every time I see you, it’s like you’re ducking behind walls or conveniently getting pulled into a room. I haven’t even had a chance to properly harass you.”

“Well, you’ve got me now.” You said with a nervous laugh that sounded more like a squeak.

Vic tilted her head, studying you with the precision of a predator sizing up its prey. “I do. So, why do you look like you’ve committed a crime?”

“No crime. Same old me. Nothing new.” You shake your head maybe a little too vigorously for convincing, but Vic decides its been a long day so maybe you were just being weird. 

Vic stared at you for a beat longer, clearly unconvinced. But to your relief, she shrugged it off, picking up a tablet and tapping her stylus against the screen. “Alright, fine. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t scare you away or something. I desperately need you to stay up here as long ass they’ll let me have you, after all”

You exhaled slowly, grateful she wasn’t pressing further—for now.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, the sounds of the nurses’ station filling the air: keyboard clicks, faint beeps from patient monitors, and the occasional chatter in the background. Except your mind was far from settled. The thing was, you couldn’t talk about this situation with Ash or Melanie. Ash had never kept a secret in her life, and Melanie? She’d tell Namjoon in a heartbeat. And once Namjoon knew, it’d be over for you.

Vic was your best bet. Sure, she’d laugh at you, but you could handle that. You’d endured worse. And keeping it bottled up was slowly driving you insane.

Finally, you rolled your chair back and turned toward her. She was immersed in her tablet, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

“Okay, there’s one thing,” you said hesitantly, gripping onto the edge of your seat harder than you had realized.

Vic’s head popped up, her brows arching. “What’s up?”

You hesitated, twisting your fingers together nervously. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? Promise.”

She rolled her eyes, setting the tablet on her lap. “Who am I going to tell? Mr. Jones in 342? He’s not exactly a vault of secrets.”

“He’s a blabbermouth,” you deadpanned, earning a chuckle from her. Mr. Jones was in a coma. He wasn’t on this floor but everyone knew about him since he had been here a few years. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “Okay. So, uh… it happened again.”

Vic’s brow furrowed in confusion, her head tilting slightly. “What happened again?”

“Me and…” You lowered your voice to a whisper, glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot. “You know who.”

Vic stared at you, blinking once. Then twice. You could see the gears turning as she connected the dots. And then her jaw dropped. “You what? Say it again, because I need to make sure I’m not hallucinating.”

“Jungkook and I…” You swallowed hard. “…again.”

For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. And then she erupted into laughter—loud, unabashed laughter that had several people glancing your way.

Vic tried to stifle her laughter, but it bubbled out anyway, her shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry, but this is gold. What happened to ‘it didn’t fix anything, and you still hate him’? Is he just that good?” she teased, her grin positively wicked.

“Vic!” you whined, swatting at her arm, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed your embarrassment.

“Okay, okay,” she said, raising her hands in surrender, though the smirk on her face didn’t budge. “But seriously, what are you going to do now?”

You let out a long, drawn-out sigh, slumping back into your chair like the weight of the world was pressing down on you. “Avoid him. Forever, if I can manage it.”

Vic tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “Yeah, because that worked so well the first time.” She shook her head, laughing softly as she turned back to her tablet. “You’re a mess. But I love you for it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms defensively. “I am not a mess. I’d like to think I’m actually very well composed.”

Vic snorted, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. “Right, right. Say that again when you’re not—”

“Victoria.” You interrupted sharply, cutting her off with a pointed look.

“Damn, alright. No need to use my full name like I’m in trouble. Anyway... how did it happen?” Her teasing tone softened slightly as she leaned forward, genuinely curious now. “Walk me through it. Start to... unfortunate finish.”

You groaned again, rubbing your temples. “Do we have to?”

“Oh, absolutely. This is the best thing that’s happened all week.” She said, propping her chin on her hand as if settling in for storytime.

With another sigh, you gave in, recounting the night in as much detail as you could bear—the tizzy outside, then the bathroom and then how you two made it to the unthinkable end. Your shift had ended in the time it took you to explain everything and Vic had followed you to the locker room while you got your stuff. 

Unthinkable maybe a few months ago. 

“I’m jealous. I wish I had something this entertaining happening in my life. The most interesting gossip I have is about Dr. Kim’s surgery this morning.” She leaned against a locker next to you as you had gotten your stuff. 

“Be glad because it’s a pain in reality.” You sigh, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Now I need to go home and wash this extremely long day off of me.” 

“Well don’t stumble into Jungkook's bed on your way there.” 

Just before you leave the locker room, You turn back to her. “I hate you.” 

“Love you too baby. Get home safe.” She waves for you to get out of here. Escape while you still could. 

You exhaled deeply as you exited the locker room, the weight of the day pulling at your shoulders. Every muscle in your body ached, and the thought of a hot shower and your bed felt like a distant dream. As you reached the elevator, you spotted Ji-eun shuffling slowly down the hallway, her IV bag trailing behind her like a stubborn shadow.

“Goodnight, Ji-eun,” you called out, giving her a small wave as you pressed the elevator button.

“Leaving so early?” she teased, her voice light but tired as she made her way over to you. You could tell from her slower steps and the way she leaned slightly to one side that today hadn’t been a good day for her.

“Short shift today,” you replied with a warm smile, masking your concern. “You should be off that leg if it’s bothering you.”

“Never,” she quipped, standing up straighter and puffing out her chest in defiance. “Can’t you see? I’ve got all the energy in the world!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “All right. Come on, let me walk you back to your room.”

Ji-eun beamed, looping her arm through yours as if you’d just made her day. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Someone has to keep you in check.” You teased, giving her a gentle nudge as the two of you started down the hallway.

“So,” She began, her tone shifting to one of playful curiosity. “You haven’t updated me on your annoying boy this week. Still giving you trouble?”

You groaned inwardly but couldn’t help smiling at her persistence. “Just a little, but nothing I can’t handle,” you said lightly, hoping to steer the conversation away.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Ji-eun said, narrowing her eyes at you. “What happened this time?”

You hesitated but gave in under her expectant gaze. “I ran into him again. It... wasn’t great. We fought again.”

She gasped dramatically, clutching your arm like you’d just revealed a scandal. “How thrilling! And here I was thinking my life was dramatic with all these needles and IV bags.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No more run-ins this week, though, so that’s a win.”

Ji-eun gave your arm a comforting squeeze. “Progress. Honestly, I wish my boys would talk about things like this. All they ever discuss these days is what’s happening at work.”

“Either of them coming by tonight?”

Ji-eun shakes her head, “No they both are so busy. My youngest especially these days. My husband will be here after too long though.”

“Good, and trust me, you’re not missing much. I would accept work gossip over boy drama any day.” You said, though your smile wavered slightly as the truth of your own words settled over you.

When you reached her room, you helped her ease into bed, adjusting her blankets and making sure she was comfortable. You still hadn’t gotten the chance to meet any of her family yet but her hospital room had been filling up more and more with things from home and things to keep her entertained. It was nice to see what she elected to have around her here. 

“You’re a saint,” Ji-eun murmured, her voice softer now, the day’s fatigue catching up to her.

“I’m just doing my job,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “You need to take it easier since your treatments are going to just make everyday tasks even harder.”

“I’ll try. Goodnight, Y/N.” She points for you to leave dramatically and you comply.

“Goodnight,” Leaving with the weight of your shoulder now really barring down on you now. 

You got onto the elevator and heading down to the garage. Your phone buzzing in your pocket. 

MEL:  ME YOU ASH. SATURDAY NIGHT. IN OR OUT.

You laugh, thank god Melanie was back in town. You really needed a good night in with her and Ash so this text couldn’t come at a better time. 

:IM IN

MEL: AMAZING

MEL: small detail I may have let out 

MEL: It will also include the boys too..

MEL: BUT YOU ALREADY AGREED SO YOU CANT BACK OUT NOW

Which you knew meant Jungkook. Great. 

:that’s fine It'll be fun no matter what

You could very well keep it together. Just stay one arm attached to Melanie and nothing could go wrong. You missed her dearly and of course Namjoon. Although he probably didn’t miss the sleepovers you, Ash and Melanie would have where he ended up getting kicked out of his own bed. 

Which very well may happen again this weekend. 

You continued about your week normally and so did Jungkook. Jungkook’s week had been consumed by the trial, which included long days in court, late nights reviewing documents, and the constant hum of pressure to perform. Yet, despite the chaos, things were looking up. His team was solid, their arguments tight, and with the trial on recess until Monday, Jungkook felt unusually optimistic. Optimistic enough, in fact, to accept Taehyung’s invite for a drink—a rarity for him during trial season.

Both Jungkook and Taehyung tried to rope Namjoon into coming out as well, and Namjoon was almost convinced. Then about forty five minutes ago he was texting something about having to prepare the house for the invasion, cryptically. They both were completely unsure what that was supposed to mean. 

Taehyung was already waiting in a booth when Jungkook arrived, beer in hand and a mischievous grin ready to pounce. As Jungkook slid into the seat across from him, Taehyung gave an exaggerated round of applause. “Mr. Responsible Lawyer Boy, gracing me with his presence. This is truly an honor.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile as he set his whiskey down on the table. “Don’t get used to it. I’ve still got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me tomorrow.”

“Of course you do,” Taehyung said, raising his beer. “But look at you now—drink in hand, no case files in sight. Dare I say, you’re almost acting human.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” Jungkook replied, taking a sip of his whiskey. “I’ve still got a trial to win. But things are going well enough that I figured I could afford one night off. Or at least an hour.”

“Rare footage of Jungkook actually relaxing,” Taehyung said, pulling out his phone and pretending to film him. “Better capture this before you start muttering about depositions and cross-examinations again.”

Jungkook smirked, setting his glass down. “I’d be careful if I were you. That phone footage might mysteriously disappear.”

Taehyung chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Alright, mystery man. So, what’s got you in such a good mood? Jimin’s been saying you’ve been acting... off this week.”

Jungkook sighed, he figured he would hear something about earlier this week. Jimin and Taehyung were already in Jungkook's business enough so any change in behavior does not escape them, “Of course he has. Between the wedding and this trial, I’ve had a lot on my plate. That’s all.”

“Sure, sure,” Taehyung said, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “You’ve barely had any time for me. Do you know how neglected I feel? My best friend, abandoning me in my time of need?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes again. “Poor you. You were one of the groomsmen if you remember. I saw you the entire time.”

“Poor me indeed! You were so busy trying to one up Y/N the whole time.” Taehyung exclaimed, throwing an arm over his eyes in mock despair. “I’ve had to survive on scraps of attention while you’ve been off doing... whatever it is you’ve been doing.”

“Work,” Jungkook said pointedly. “Once this trial is over, I’ll have plenty of time to make it up to you. My mind’s just been... all over the place lately.”

“Something bothering you?” Taehyung asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

Jungkook pushed him back with a laugh. “No. Nothing in particular.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung took a long sip of his beer, clearly not convinced. Jungkook could sense now Taehyung was dancing around something. He had something he wanted to ask. “Jimin said you’ve been quieter than usual. That’s weird, even for you, especially this close to a trial. Thought there might be something on your mind.”

“If this trial goes well, it’s a huge opportunity for me. Potential promotion. That’s all.” Jungkook shrugs, playing it cool. Still unsure where Taehyung is taking this.

Taehyung nodded slowly, as if considering this. “Makes sense. But, you know, I thought I might’ve had an idea why you’ve been acting so strange...”

“Tae,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

Taehyung grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Nothing, nothing. Forget I said anything.” He sat up straight, switching gears with a dramatic clap of his hands. “I do know how you can make it up to me for all the lost hang-out time, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook said, skeptical. “What’s that?”

“If you tell me what’s going on with you and Y/N.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

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Taglist!: @akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @vantelover1306 @jalexad @sadgirlroo @chimmisbae @smoljjks @miniesjams32 @daskewl @kookienooki

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

a/n: Maybe not the most exciting chapter but I have been very excited to show that college flashback. Although not the most important piece of their history - it is important none the less... because they were friends once?? hmmmmmm.

[tokkiwrites]

𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗. (5)

mom's fiancé! joel miller x f! reader • series masterlist.

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants. Tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, betrayal, talk about divorce, no one owning up to what they really do, main characters get their happy ending... OR DO THEY?! >:) /ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ im baaack !! last part baby!!! kind of. you'll see >:) until then enjoy this mumbled mess of 4.63k words bunnies! thank you for the immense support on this series. excuse any grammatical errors <//3

Her words hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping for air. You watched as she paced the room, trembling with the weight of her anger and heartbreak. “You don’t know what love is!” she snapped, her voice breaking. “Love isn’t sneaking around, tearing apart the people who trust you the most. Love isn’t ruining your family because you can’t control yourself.”

Your chest tightened, the sting of her words cutting deep. “I didn’t plan for this to happen,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It wasn’t like I set out to hurt you—”

“But you did,” she interrupted, her voice cracking. “You hurt me in the worst way possible. You betrayed me with the one person who was supposed to be on my side. How am I supposed to live with this? How am I supposed to look at you and not see… this?”

Her words crushed you, the weight of her disappointment pressing down like an anchor. You took a step toward her, desperate to bridge the chasm growing between you. “Mom, please—”

“Don’t,” she said, holding up a hand to stop you. Her tears shimmered in the dim light, her face a portrait of devastation. “I need you to leave. Just… go.”

You froze, your heart shattering at the finality in her tone. “Mom…”

“Go!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You turned and stumbled toward the door, the walls of the house you’d grown up in suddenly feeling foreign and cold. As you stepped outside, the chill of the night air bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache inside your chest.

The slam of the door still echoed in your ears as you trudged through the dark streets, clutching your jacket tight against the biting wind. Your mind was spinning, replaying the scene over and over again—the raised voice, the look of disgust on her face, the words that burned like acid.

"You’re a liar. I don’t even know who you are anymore."

Your mother had always been sharp, but you hadn’t expected her to be cruel. Not like that.

She hadn’t even let you explain. Not really. Once she figured it out—once you admitted you were in love with Joel—it was like she couldn’t even look at you. Not forever, maybe. But you knew that in this moment, there was no going back.

You wiped at your face, but it was no use. Tears streaked your cheeks, hot and endless, cutting through the cold. You barely noticed when you reached Joel’s building. Your feet carried you up the stairs, and your fists pounded on his door before you even thought about what you’d say.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open. Joel stood there, his face tight with worry that immediately shifted into something darker when he saw you. “You told her,” he said, his voice low and heavy. You froze, your breath catching. Of course, he already knew. “I had to,” you whispered, stepping inside uninvited. “She—she guessed. She cornered me, Joel, I couldn’t—” You decided to lie. You tried to protect him from all of this. Maybe it wasn't your job or your role to do so, but this was the way to show him that it's real. that you are real, and so are all the feelings you have for him.

“You could’ve,” Joel snapped, cutting you off. He shut the door with more force than necessary. “You could’ve waited. You could’ve called me. But instead, you decided to do this on your own.” His words hit like a punch, and you stumbled over your response. “I didn’t have time—”

“That’s bullshit,” he growled, his voice rising. He took a step closer, his eyes boring into yours. “You didn’t want to wait for me. You wanted to handle it yourself, like you always do.”

“That’s not fair,” you shot back, anger bubbling up to meet his. “I didn’t plan this, Joel! She came at me, and I panicked! What was I supposed to do? Lie to her?”

“Yes!” Joel shouted, throwing his hands up. “You should’ve lied, or stalled, or done anything other than blow this whole thing wide open without me. You think this is just about you? It’s not. This affects both of us.” Your stomach twisted at his words. “You think I don’t know that?” you said, your voice trembling. “Do you think I don’t feel sick about what this means for you? For us? Joel, she kicked me out!"

He froze, his jaw tightening. “She what?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. “She told me to leave. Said she doesn’t even recognize me anymore. I—” Your voice broke, and you covered your face with your hands. Joel’s anger seemed to deflate all at once, replaced by something softer, though no less pained. He reached for you hesitantly, his fingers brushing your arm.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his tone rough but gentler now. “C’mere.”

You let him pull you into his arms, and the floodgates opened. You sobbed into his chest, your fists clutching at his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. For a while, he just held you, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. "I got you, babygirl... 'm right here." But the tension in his body hadn’t gone away, and you could feel the weight of everything left unsaid hanging between you. When your sobs finally quieted, Joel pulled back just enough to look at you. His face was etched with exhaustion and something else—something almost like regret.

“This can’t keep happening,” he said softly. “You can’t just… go off and make decisions like this without me. We’re supposed to be in this together.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice raw. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know what else to do.” Joel sighed, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced. “We always do.”

But before you could respond, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You hesitated, then pulled it out, your heart sinking when you saw the name on the screen. Marjorie. Of course. Joel noticed your hesitation. “Who is it?”

“Marjorie,” you said quietly. He frowned, but said nothing as you swiped to open the message. "You should’ve thought this through", it read.

•Your mom’s already told half the town about what you’ve done. If you’d just shared a little, you wouldn’t be in this mess now. At least they'll know what a homewrecking whore you are.

The room seemed to spin, and you had to sit down before your legs gave out. Joel knelt beside you, his hand gripping yours tightly. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low and steady. You showed him the message, your hands shaking. His jaw tightened as he read it, a muscle in his cheek jumping.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “She’s trying to twist the knife.”

“She’s right, though,” you said, your voice barely audible. “I—I did this to myself. To us.”

“Hey,” Joel said firmly, cupping your face in his hands. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. You hear me, sweet girl? This isn’t on you. It’s on them. On her.” You wanted to believe him. But the weight of everything—the fallout with your mom, the shame, the fear of what came next—it was too much.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” you whispered, tears welling up again. "Maybe it don't need fixin'.." Joel’s expression softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure it out,” he said again. “One step at a time. But you’ve got to let me in. No more shutting me out.”

The road ahead felt impossibly long, the cracks in your relationship with Joel deep and jagged. But as he held you close, his arms steady and sure, you let yourself hope.

the nigh faded as your lids finally closed, the soft whispers of Joel a blanket over your tensed body. Finally, you fall asleep, escaping this day, hoping that when you wake up It'll all turn out to be a bad dream.

But as the night fell upon, you so did the day.

Joel stood on the doorstep, fists clenched at his sides. The brisk wind carried the faint scent of pine from the trees lining the street. He stared at the door in front of him, steeling himself for what he knew was coming. When your mother opened the door, her face immediately twisted into a scowl. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here,” she spat. Joel held her gaze, his jaw tight. “We need to talk.”

“Oh, we do?” she snapped, stepping onto the porch and crossing her arms. “You’ve said enough, Joel. Or maybe not—seems like you were too busy seducing my daughter to give me the full picture.” Joel winced, but he didn’t look away. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Then what do you want?” she shot back, her voice rising. “To explain yourself? To justify this—this shit?”

“I want to make things right,” Joel said, his tone measured. “For her. She doesn’t deserve this.”

“Don’t you dare pretend this is about her,” she snapped, her eyes narrowing. “This is about you. About your selfishness, your inability to think about anyone but yourself.” Joel’s hands curled into fists at his sides, but he forced himself to stay calm. “I know you’re angry—”

“Angry?” Her voice grew louder, trembling with indignation. “Angry doesn’t even begin to cover it! Do you have any idea what you’ve done, Joel? My daughter—your stepdaughter. Do you even hear yourself?” Joel’s shoulders sagged slightly, but his resolve didn’t falter. “It’s not what you think—”

“Oh, really?” she interrupted, her laugh sharp and bitter. “Then explain it to me, Joel. Enlighten me, because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve been fucking her this whole time.” His head snapped up, and his voice took on a dangerous edge. “That’s not what happened.”

“Then what?” she demanded, stepping closer. “You ‘accidentally’ fell for her? And so did your dick inside of her? Was this why you got so close to her? Why you were so ‘supportive’ all of a sudden? Because you wanted her?” Joel’s chest rose and fell heavily. “I didn’t plan this,” he said, his voice low but firm. “It just happened. She’s not a child, and this wasn’t some sick—”

“Don’t you dare try to justify this!” she hissed, cutting him off again. “You’re supposed to be her father. You were supposed to protect her—not—” Her voice cracked, and she had to look away, blinking rapidly. "Oh my god."

Joel stepped forward, his voice softening. “I never meant to hurt anyone.” She glared at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You think that makes it better? That it wasn’t ‘on purpose’? My God, Joel—this is why you married me, isn’t it?”

His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked genuinely taken aback. “What?” She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “It makes sense now. You didn’t want me. You wanted her. You saw an opportunity, and you—” Her voice broke again, and she turned away, her hand pressed to her mouth. “That’s not true,” Joel said firmly, his voice rising just slightly. “I loved you. I cared about this family. I—”

“You used this family,” she snapped, spinning back around to face him. “And don’t you dare pretend otherwise. You’ve destroyed everything, Joel. Do you understand that? Everything. And for what?”

Joel’s expression hardened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “For love,” he said, his voice rough. “I love her. And you can hate me for it all you want, but that’s the truth.” Her mouth fell open slightly, disbelief etched across her face. For a moment, the only sound was the wind rustling through the trees.

“You’re disgusting,” she finally said, her voice quiet but laced with venom. “Do you know what people are saying? What they’re going to say? You’ve ruined her, Joel. You’ve ruined her life, and you don't even understand."

Joel’s throat tightened, and his heart sank with every word that came from her mouth. “I never meant to hurt her,” he said again, his voice thick with emotion. He took a step forward, desperate to make her understand. “I never meant for any of this to happen. I love her, but I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I never wanted to destroy this family.” The words seemed to hit her like a slap. She blinked rapidly, as though trying to keep the tears at bay, but they came anyway—one by one, streaming down her face. “You already have, Joel,” she whispered.

There was a heavy silence between them. The weight of everything that had happened hung in the air like an oppressive cloud. Joel wanted to reach out, to comfort her somehow, but he knew he couldn’t. Not now.

Her eyes narrowed, and her voice was cold, almost venomous. “You’re not going to get away with this. I’ll make sure of it. I’m telling everyone. I’ve already told people, Joel. You don’t get to just pretend this didn’t happen, that it’s all okay. I will make sure everyone knows what you’ve done.”

His blood ran cold. “You can’t—”

“I will,” she spat. Joel stood there. He wanted to scream, to argue, but the truth hung there. He had screwed up. And he knew that.

“I didn’t want this to happen. You have to believe me,” he said hoarsely, voice cracking. “I was trying to be there for her. I—I never wanted to hurt her or you. It just—it just happened. And I don’t know what to do, but I swear, I never meant for it to go this far.” She crossed her arms tightly, her eyes flashing with anger and hurt. “You never meant it, Joel? Then why did you let it happen? Why didn’t you stop? You could’ve stopped. You could’ve walked away.

His throat felt tight, constricted with guilt, but he refused to back down. “Because I couldn’t.” Her lip trembled, but she quickly bit it, hiding the emotion that flickered there. She took a deep breath, then looked him square in the eyes. “I want you to leave. Now.”

The command was sharp, final. Joel hesitated, his gaze lingering on her, and then he nodded—slowly. He wasn’t sure what else to say. There were no more words that could fix this, not right now. He turned, heading for the door, the weight of everything pressing down on him with each step.

He felt sick.

With one final glance at the door he’d just walked away from, he turned and walked down the street, away from the house, away from everything. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but none of them made sense.

He had destroyed everything.

And now, there was no going back.

Joel had just come back from a supply run, the door clicking shut behind him. You glanced up from the couch, where you’d been sitting in silence, staring blankly at a book you weren’t really reading. He dropped the grocery bag on the counter, pausing before he looked at you.

“You’ve barely eaten,” he said, his voice rough but laced with concern. You shrugged, hugging your knees to your chest. “Not hungry.” He let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, baby. I know it’s hard, but we’re in this together. You know that, don’t you?”

You looked at him then, searching his face for something—reassurance, maybe, or a sense that he really believed what he was saying. “Together,” you echoed, the word feeling hollow. “We might be together, but everything else is ruined, Joel. My mom hates me. She hates you... And everyone else knows now too."

Running away now sounds about right.

Joel crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the couch. “Your mom’s angry. She’s hurt. But she’ll come around. And whatever others say... Fuck 'em.” You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. “She won’t, Joel. Not after what she said. Not after what we did.”

“She doesn’t get to judge us,” he said firmly, his voice low. “She can be angry all she wants, but we didn’t do this to hurt her. We didn’t plan for any of this.” You flinched at his words. “That doesn’t make it okay. We still—Joel, we still had an affair. We lied to her. I lied to her... and I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Joel reached out, his hand brushing against yours. “You’re the same person you’ve always been...My sweet 'n smart girl. And you’re not alone in this. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You looked at him, his eyes filled with determination and tears. He meant it—every word. But that didn’t erase the reality of what had happened. It didn’t change the fact that you’d hurt someone you both cared about, even if that love had long since soured.

“Do you regret it?” you asked suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Your voice trembled, barely audible. “Do you regret... us?” Joel froze, his hand tightening around yours. For a moment, you thought he might say yes—that he’d take it all back if he could. But then he shook his head, his voice resolute.

“No,” he said. “I don’t regret loving you. I can’t. But I hate how it happened. I hate what it’s done to you—to us.” Tears slipped down your cheeks, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You buried your face in his chest, letting yourself cry for everything you’d lost—for the family you’d broken and the love that had brought you here. “I’m scared, Joel,” you whispered. “What if it’s not enough? What if we’re not enough?” His arms tightened around you, his voice soft but unwavering. “We’ll figure it out. One day at a time, baby.”

You wait for the moon to rise and hug you.

Tonight, as the moonlight filtered through the thin curtains in his bedroom, you realized you couldn’t stay here anymore. Not in this town. Not surrounded by the memories of everything you’d lost.

Joel was beside you, his breathing steady but shallow. He’d fallen asleep sitting against the headboard, a book forgotten in his lap. His brow was furrowed, even in rest. You stared at him for a long moment before gently nudging his shoulder. “Joel,” you whispered. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. For a second, he looked confused, but then his gaze softened when he saw you. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded but didn’t answer right away. Instead, you sat up, crossing your legs and pulling the blanket over them. Joel straightened, too, setting the book aside and giving you his full attention.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about,” you started. Joel tilted his head slightly. “What’s that?”

You took a deep breath, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself. “Why don’t we leave? Just... pack up and go somewhere else. Start over. There’s nothing keeping me here, Joel. Not anymore. We could move, get away from all this, and just... be us. We could have a life, a family of our own. Isn’t that what we’ve always wanted?”

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, the way he was trying to process what you’d just said. “You want to leave?” he asked finally, his voice low.

You nodded. “I can’t stay here, Joel. Not after everything. Everyone knows. They’re all talking about us, judging us. I can’t go anywhere without feeling their eyes on me. And my mom... She’s made it clear I’m not welcome. But we don’t have to stay. We could go somewhere no one knows us. Start fresh.”

Joel rubbed a hand over his face, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know, darlin’. Moving... It’s a big decision. And what about you? Your work, your friends?”

“They’re not my friends anymore,” you said bitterly, the sting of betrayal still fresh. “If they ever were, they’re sure not now. And work... I can find something else. None of that matters, Joel. All that matters is us. If we stay here, this will follow us forever. But if we leave, we can leave all this behind.” His shoulders slumped slightly, and he looked at you; sadness and longing. “You really think running away’s the answer?”

“It’s not running away,” you argued gently. “It’s starting over. Joel, you said we’d figure this out together. This is how we do it! We can’t change what happened, but we can choose what happens next. And I choose you.”

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Joel’s gaze locked on yours, and you could see the battle raging inside him. He wanted what you were offering—a chance to leave this mess behind, to build a life with you. But he was also scared of the unknown and the risks that came with it.

Finally, he reached out, his hand covering yours. “If this is what you want,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “then we’ll do it. We’ll leave. Wherever you wanna go, I’ll follow.”

Relief flooded through you, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you threw your arms around him. “Thank you,” you murmured against his shoulder. “Thank you..." He held you tightly, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You’re all I’ve got, darlin’. I’d go anywhere for you.”

That was enough. It had to be.

The hum of the apartment felt suffocating, but there was a strange comfort in it, too. You’d been in the same place for so long, yet now, every little sound—the refrigerator humming, the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall—felt like a reminder of everything that had fallen apart. The town that had been home for so many years now felt like a prison, a place where the whispers never stopped, and the eyes of judgment followed you wherever you went.

But you weren’t staying here. You couldn’t stay here. You were both looking for a way out. Maybe you more than him.

Joel had been working overtime, pushing through his job, despite the whispers about him at work—the rumors that now tainted his every conversation. His job, the stares, the small-town gossip— it all got to him. to both of you.

As for you, you had quit yours. There wasn’t any point in pretending anymore. Your coworkers had given you that look— the one that said they knew but couldn’t talk about it openly. You didn’t need that anymore. You didn’t need to keep hiding in a job that felt more like a cage than an opportunity.

What you needed was space. You needed to leave. To escape. To start somewhere far away from here.

You stood by the counter, stirring a pot of vegetable soup as the familiar sounds of the apartment surrounded you. You were tired. Tired of hiding. Tired of fighting for something that had no resolve. It should’ve been an easy answer. You knew this would happen, how it would end up. And you could see it in Joel’s eyes, too. But every time you thought about leaving, about getting out of this town where everyone knew too much, there was a brief moment of hope. A spark. What if this was the first step toward something real? Toward a life that was just yours? Was it that horrible you wanted to he happy despite what you had done?

You let out a deep breath, your thoughts interrupted as Joel stepped into the kitchen, his tired eyes locking onto yours.

"Hi, baby." he murmured, his voice a little rough from the long day. You turned to him, a smile tugging at your lips despite the exhaustion that had been weighing on you. “Hi,” you said softly, and before you could say anything more, he closed the space between you. Joel’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then your temple. “Missed you,” he said, his lips brushing against your skin. “Every damn minute I was at work, all I could think about was gettin' home to you.”

You laughed quietly, resting your hands on his chest. “You’re such a sap,” you teased, but there was no bite in your words—just warmth, just the comfort of knowing he was here. “Only for you,” Joel replied, a smirk playing on his lips as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his expression softened. “You’re my whole world, baby. Don’t you know that by now?”

Your chest tightened, but in the best way. You nodded, leaning into his touch. “I think I do,” you whispered. Joel’s smile grew, and he leaned down to kiss you—slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that made the rest of the world falter away. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his hands stayed firm on your waist like he couldn’t bear to let go.

“We’re really doing this..?” you said. “We’re leaving. Packing up and going to a whole new place..."

“Damn right we are,” his voice was steady. “We got that apartment a few towns over...with the balcony and all that sunlight you love so much, could maybe get a puppy too, who knows? It’s ours now. We’re making this happen.”

"Or a kitty." you giggle. "Whatever you want, angel. anything you want." You nodded, a smile breaking across your face. Your future home. Yours and Joel's. For how unreal it sounded, it felt like a lifeline. It was small but perfect, tucked away in a quiet area where no one would know your names. It was far enough from here that the whispers, the judgment, and the past couldn’t follow. It was everything you both needed. “I still can’t believe they approved us,” you said, shaking your head with a quiet laugh. “It feels too good to be true.” Joel chuckled, pulling you tighter against him. “Believe it, baby. It’s happening. And I can’t wait to see you in it. Can’t wait to start a real life with you..." he trails off, palm settling on your lower belly and, oh, butterflies bloom into your stomach. His words made your chest ache. He leaned down to kiss you again, his hands moving up to cradle your face. The kiss was longer this time, deeper, like he was trying to pour everything he felt for you into it. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were shining. “We’ll start packing this weekend,” he said, his tone laced with excitement. “I’ve already started thinking about how to load the truck. Gonna make sure all your stuff’s safe, no scratches or anythin'.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re so practical.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta be,” he teased, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “But seriously, I want you to feel at home there. I want it to be everything you’ve ever wanted. Hell, I don’t care if we’re in a shoebox as long as it’s with you.” Your throat tightened at his words, and you buried your face in his chest, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. “I love you,” you said softly. Joel’s hand came up to tangle in your hair, and he pressed his lips to the top of your head. “I love you, baby. More than anything.” it seemed real enough for you.

For a while, the two of you just stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the warmth of the moment settle around you. You weren’t just running from something anymore, or someone. You were running toward something— together. And it was wrong, yes, and maybe karma will eventually make it's way to you, but until then this was your chance to be happy.

taglist ⭐️ ㅡ @eviispunk @joeldjarin @whimsiwitchy @guelyury @untamedheart81 @dollyxzy @mybvalentine @am-3-thyst @cuteanimalmama @corinnedollete @lovely-vamp-princess

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXIX)

Chapter 29: ‘My lover’s words were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses on these lips’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! It’s the poetry reading!!! Also, we’re getting some special guests in this chapter!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 5237

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Anne Hathaway

‘Item I gyve unto my wief my second best bed…’ (from Shakespeare’s will)

The bed we loved in was a spinning world of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas where he would dive for pearls. My lover’s words were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses on these lips; my body now a softer rhyme to his, now echo, assonance; his touch a verb dancing in the centre of a noun. Some nights, I dreamed he’s written me, the bed A page beneath his writer’s hands. Romance and drama played by touch, by scent, by taste. In the other bed, the best, our guests dozed on, dribbling their prose. My living laughing love- I hold him in the casket of my widow’s head as he held me upon that next best bed.

Carole Ann Duffy, The World’s Wife

It was raining in Dublin that afternoon.

Andrew was nervous, to say the least. As he hurried into the bookshop that was hosting his poetry reading, he was questioning all of his life’s choices. If he was proud of his work, if he had been on a stage before, if he was used to talking in front of crowds… he still had dreadful nerves right before any of these events.

He tried to calm down, opening the glass door of the bookshop in a hurry. He was suddenly very aware that the rain must have made his hair look like a bird’s nest, and as he bent to enter the shop, he could feel himself taking up too much space.

He put these thoughts aside, forcing himself to smile as he walked across the shop, recognising his agent instantly as she was talking with the bookshop owner.

“Andy! This is Niamh O’Brien, the owner of the bookshop,” said Caroline, as Andrew shook hands with the fifty-something woman in front of him.

“It’s very nice to meet you, thank you for organising this,” Andrew smiled, his voice sounding a little hoarse as the stress was making his throat tighten.

“Oh, it’s nothing! It’s a pleasure, indeed! Thank you for accepting to come here, I truly admire your work,” complimented O’Brien, making Andrew nod and blush.

“Thanks,” he answered automatically, pushing the compliment away instantly.

“Alright, let’s go to my office so we can run through today’s event, and then I’ll give you a little time to get ready if you need,” explained the owner of the bookshop while they walked across the shop and to a small door at the back, near the Shakespeare section. “As I was telling Caroline, we have a large room upstairs for these readings, for seminaries, lectures… all those things. The response to the advertisement was very encouraging, indeed! We’re expecting over two hundred people today.”

Andrew nervously chuckled.

“I thought this was a small event…”

“I thought it would be! Poetry readings are not always the most popular events, sadly. But we had underestimated the popularity of your work, clearly! We have about two hundred seats upstairs, and we’re expecting a full house!”

“Wow… that’s grand,” Andrew grinned, digging his hands into his pockets.

They walked inside O’Brien’s office, and discussed some details about the afternoon around a warm cup of coffee.

“We have planned some questions after the reading,” O’Brien went on, sipping on her beverage. “Anything that we should… avoid or that you are adamant to discuss?”

“Erm… like… I reckon it’s best if you decide what questions are more relevant. I’m not going to discuss anything too private, though.”

“Too private?”

“Like… my personal life is private, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Of course. I can understand that.”

“Thank you.”

“We gave Caroline a few titles that we would really like you to read, if that’s fine by you. But I’m curious to know what are the other poems you’ve decided to share today.”

“Erm… yeah, totally! Erm… I’ve noted the ones you asked for, I’ll read them obviously. Then, I’ve just picked a few that I felt fitted your selection. I’m also going to publish a few poems next month, so I thought I could read three of these.”

“Oh, that would be amazing! Maybe finish the reading with these new ones!”

“Yeah, I thought I could do that. Do you prefer to read them before hand?”

“Oh, no, no! You’re the author, you choose what you read and want to share today! On the contrary, I can’t wait to discover them when you read them aloud!”

She grinned excitedly.

“Oh, now I truly cannot wait! Right, we still have about forty-five minutes before the reading begins, I’m going to help welcome our visitors. You take some time to get ready, and ask us if you need anything, alright?”

“Totally… yeah. Thank you.”

As soon as O’Brien had left the room, Caroline heaved a sigh, relaxing in her chair while she turned to Andrew.

“You’re ready for today?”

“Of course, I am.”

“Good… are your parents coming? I mean… they always come when the readings are in Dublin, I don’t know why I’m asking,” she chuckled, and Andrew enthusiastically nodded.

“Yeah, they’ll be here! Jon is off to Cork for a project he’s working on, but both my parents are coming.”

“Anyone else you’ll know in the crowd? Alex?”

“No, Alex is busy working on a music project with his new band at the moment. I… I have another friend who’s coming, though.”

“Really? Who?”

“Erm… Her name’s Y/N. We work together, actually.”

As she studied his features, Caroline raised a teasing eyebrow, a grin slowly creeping over her lips.

“And… is this Y/N nice to look at, too?”

“Caroline!” Andrew chuckled, rubbing at his cheek. “She’s just a friend.”

“She is at the moment, perhaps… but is she meant to remain just that?”

Andrew didn’t say anything at first.

“I can’t see the future, you know? I didn’t pass the exams in divination back in College.”

“Are any of these new poems influenced by her?”

Andrew cleared his throat, reached for the thermos of tea and honey he had brought for his throat.

“I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled under his breath. “I should read these again, just to practice.”

“Yeah, I bet you should,” Caroline laughed, taking her phone out of her purse to check her emails.

Meanwhile, Andrew read some of his poems again, just to remind himself of the pauses, the stresses, the intentions he wanted to add when he would read them out loud. About ten minutes before the beginning of the reading session, he checked his phone. His father had sent him a couple of texts, one to notify him that they were ten minutes away from Dublin, and another later on once he and Andrew’s mother were already seated in the bookshop.

There was another text from you as well, and Andrew’s heart skipped a beat at the sight.

Waiting for the reading to begin! Just wanted to wish you good luck, although I have no doubts you’re gonna kill it!

He started typing while Caroline was checking a few last-minute details.

Hey! Thank you again for coming today, it means a lot to me. I’ll try not to make too much of a fool of myself out there.

 Your answer was almost instantaneous.

No need to thank me for that. I’m glad to be here.

You’ve got a full house btw! I was right to come here early, the room is packed. Some people are sitting on the floor, others are just standing. Apparently they’ve had to turn some people away, there was just no room left.

And I didn’t even know you wrote poetry, shame on me…

Andrew chuckled at that, not noticing that Caroline was talking to him. He was too busy answering.

Ha… thanks. Now, I’m going to die of stress before I can get up there and read.

Also, I hadn’t warned you, but all these people were hired. I’m only trying to impress you.

He realised there was a little bit of flirt in that last message, but he didn’t change it. Instead, he bit on his nail, eyes fixed on his screen while you typed a response.

Ha, that explains it then! You’re actually a rich egomaniac who is forging his success!

He chuckled.

Indeed, I am. You’ve read right through me.

Caroline frowned, but he didn’t notice either.

And I thought you were just a talented poet.

He blushed, tried to brush the compliment away.

Christ, I really am not, trust me.

“Andy!”

Andrew finally looked up, startled.

“Hmm?”

“It’s time to go, come on.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah…”

“You’ll do just fine. You always do great in these.”

Andrew nodded, typing quickly one last message before he would follow Caroline upstairs.

Time’s up. I’ll talk to you after the reading, if you want to stick around a little.

You sent him one last encouraging text that he didn’t have the time to read, but that would make him grin later that night, when he would discover it, hours later.

For now though, he was walking inside the large room, after O’Brien had quickly introduced him, and he waved shyly while the crowd clapped for him. He settled in front of the mic stand, readjusted its height to fit his tall body better.

When he looked up again, he easily spotted his parents, first row, as per usual. They grinned proudly at him, and the sight made him relax instantly. He took one more second to scan the room quickly, and it was indeed packed with people, more than he had anticipated for such an event, that was supposed to be a small gathering.

His eyes finally landed on you, fifth row, grinning at him with genuine excitement. You gave him a thumbs up, and it made him grin, almost laugh. You were wearing a green shirt that was revealing your cleavage a little more than usual, he noticed that right away. He noticed how you were smiling, how your eyes were shining, how you seemed happy to be here.

He blushed, before finally speaking.

You were beyond impressed, to be fair.

Andrew’s deep, soft voice was lulling you into another world, another plane of existence, while you listened to him reading his poems. There was something unbelievably magnetic in the way he spoke, in the way he stood there, alone in a single spotlight, a hand in the pocket of his brown corduroy trousers, the other holding his book. He looked so handsome like this too, curly hair partially tied back, the rest let loose over his shoulders. His brown jacket matched the colour of his trousers, the black of his turtleneck was the same shade as his leather shoes. His glasses perched on his nose caught the light from time to time, but you were obsessed by the eyes beyond them, irises seeming brownish in this light. You noticed that he often looked at you as he spoke, or while he talked a little in between poems, explaining something about the text before he would read it, or sipping on his thermos of hot tea. You spotted the two teabag tags hanging from the grey bottle, and couldn’t refrain a fond smile at the sight. He liked his tea so strong, just like his coffee…

Behind him, across the white wall, there were pictures projected while he read, matching the poems. Sometimes short, silent films. You were particularly struck by the LGBTQ+ meaning on the black and white extract for Take Me To Church, the roughness of the themes for Cherry Wine, the dancers that moved behind Andrew’s frame for Movement. You were more impressed by his work itself though, by the beauty in the images he summoned, the sincerity he seemed to inject into each word, the gentleness he used to speak about love, the complexity of the feeling, too, and the way he talked about sex as an act of worship instead of pure lust, as a sacred act of loving. You loved every second of it.

Finally, he closed his second book, but pulled from it a few loose sheets of paper, and smiled at the crowd.

“We have only a few minutes left, and… erm… I thought I could share with you a few new poems today. They will soon be published in a poetry journal, but this sounded like the perfect occasion to finally… erm… release them into the world and… and… erm… to just, let them loose, I guess. The first one is called Why Would You Be Loved, and it is about… the despair that comes with love. With sharing something so absolute, and wondering why it should even occur to you, and why you should let yourself be engulfed in this kind of… erm… like… this kind of overwhelmingly strong feelings, that will probably hurt you an awful lot, in the end. So… yeah, I definitely thought that I needed to lift up the mood a little for this last part, and thus chose the most pessimistic poem I could find for you all. I expect a lot of smiles and giggles for this one.”

Everyone chuckled at that, and you weren’t an exception.

Although, you were most definitely not laughing when Andrew started reading. He seemed a little more nervous with this poem, you noticed how he was fidgeting with this piece of paper, how his eyes were shining a little more now, how his voice sounded deeper than before.

You listened, not realising that you were tearing up. But you were, you noticed it at last when a tear rolled all the way across your neck, tickling your skin.

His words echoed into your own pain, and you read in them his heartbreak after Samantha’s betrayal.

Why would you play it all on somethin' as hollow as trust?

What if you gave it all, to find that it wasn't enough?

Damn, you brushed your cheeks to dry them on your sleeve. This was echoing in your soul a little too much, a little too desperately…

The woman next to you was crying as well, you noticed the man before you rubbing discreetly at his eyes.

And then Andrew was quiet again. The applause was so loud, he looked up in surprise.

“Erm… thank you,” he smiled, nodding his head. “I… I have a couple more poems. This next one is called NFWMB, you’ll find out pretty quickly what that stands for. And it’s just… I had fun with the theme of the world ending, and I was reading a lot of Yeats too at the time, so there’s a bit of that in there. I just played with the… erm… like, the idea of having your partner being absolutely terrifying, and actually almost… thriving in that chaos. So, yeah…”

He cleared his throat, caught your eyes as he took a deeper breath before starting reading. And there was something different in his gaze, something so intense, it made you unable to look away. When Andrew looked down at his paper to read, his body was still slightly turned in your direction.

Your breath caught in your throat when he spelled out the title, when you realised what this was truly about…

Nothing fucks with my baby

You thought back about that afternoon with him, that conversation. That joke you made about being tougher than you looked; the way he had replied with a serious gaze, a firm tone, that you were tougher than you thought you were.

He looked up right after that verse, caught your eyes with his, and you knew then, you knew without a doubt that this was about you.

If I was born as a blackthorn tree

I'd wanna be felled by you

Held by you

Fuel the pyre of your enemies

But these words, they couldn’t be aimed at you… how could they? Was that what he thought of you? Was that… was that what he was ready to be and do for you?

You were struggling to breathe by the end of the poem.

Did that mean that he wrote about you?! That Andrew wrote love poems about you?

And not just love poems, but poems that showed you as some badass independent woman?!

Was that how he saw you? Strong like that?

“This is our last poem for today. It’s more of a tongue-in-cheek kind of poem. I played with the idea of using language to seduce someone. Especially in poetry, we use words in an aesthetic way, like… erm… like, I wanted to play with that idea of using poetry to lure someone in, in a way… like, using metaphors and beautiful turns of phrase to hide the fact that you just… want to jump their bones, basically.”

He smiled humorously, while the audience laughed and chuckled.

But then his eyes were back on you, and you noticed the way he blushed before he began reading.

He stole a few glances at you throughout the poem, and you almost liquified on your chair when he looked at you right after reading a certain verse…

Imagine being loved by me

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you

You struggled to swallow when he kept eye contact with you while he repeated that verse, your heart pounding, head spinning a bit, and feeling your entire body react to his deep, suave voice speaking these words directly to you.

You could barely breathe by the end of it.

You didn’t pay attention while Andrew was sitting now with O’Brien, you merely clapped along, but couldn’t conjure up any logical thought.

You took a couple of deep breath, feeling your entire body on fire. And then, you were the one imagining things he could do to you as you stared at his hand while it reached the microphone O’Brien was handing him…

The questions offered an interesting insight on many of Andrew’s poems. He sounded passionate about them, about the political messages he wanted to carry, about the vision he had of love and sex and the honesty that he thought was necessary in poetry. You listened attentively, often agreeing with his views. When the interview was over, and the applause had quieted down again, O’Brien announced a short break, before Andrew would sign copies of his books. You weren’t sure if you ought to talk to him now, as people were walking out of the room, some to go home and some to wait outside to get their books signed. You had already bought both of his books, even though you had not read them, wanting to discover Andrew’s work while he would read it. So, you stood there awkwardly for a while, hesitating to walk up to Andrew even though he was now talking to a couple of people he seemed to know, or to walk out of the room.

You were about to listen to your anxious self and walk away to wait for him outside when he called for you.

He approached with a grin on his face, and you tried to ignore how everyone was staring at the two of you.

“Thank you for coming!” he grinned, and you offered him back the same happy smile.

“No need to thank me. On the contrary, thank you for inviting me! It was amazing.”

He looked nervous for a moment.

“You… you liked the poems, then?”

You chuckled.

“That… is the understatement of the century!” you joked, and Andrew seemed deeply relieved. “I loved it. You… your poems are so beautiful, and so deep and complex and insightful and just… amazing. Truly, absolutely stunning.”

He stared at you for a moment looking a little stunned by your words, blushing more and more. He nodded, burying his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you so much. I’m glad you liked my work.”

“I really loved all your poems.”

You saw him biting the inside of his cheek, and he was about to speak again when he was interrupted by the woman he had been talking to a moment before. Actually, she didn’t speak to him, but he must have felt her approaching, and he turned to her with a warm smile.

“Oh, erm… This is Y/N,” Andrew started introducing you while a man was joining them too. “We work together at Trinity, I told you about her. Erm… Y/N, this is my mom Raine, and my dad John.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow, hearing that Andrew had told his parents about you, but you quickly recovered and shook their hands, warmly greeting them.

“Of course! Andy has told us a lot about you, indeed!” Raine nodded, making Andrew blush. “We were thinking about going for a coffee while Andy is signing some autographs. Would you like to join us? We could all go for dinner after that!”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, and looked at you with a careful expression, that seemed to convene the message that you shouldn’t feel pressured to accept if you didn’t feel like it. But you merely grinned, nodding enthusiastically.

“I don’t want to bother you,” you politely declined a first time, but Raine insisted, and this time you accepted, excited at the thought of talking with Andrew’s family.

“Alright,” Andrew nodded, and he seemed a little uncomfortable but happy all the same. “This shouldn’t take too long, I’ll join you all when I’m done here.”

You ended up in a coffeeshop nearby, bought some cake and a coffee with Andrew’s parents. You were a little nervous, worried that they might dislike you, although you refused to dig into the reasons that made your heart quicken with dread. Your fears were unfounded though, the conversation went smoothly, and both of his parents were kind-hearted. His father was a little quieter than Raine, but you couldn’t help but notice how much Andrew and John were alike, both physically and in their behaviour. They made you laugh while telling you some funny stories from Andrew’s childhood, and you answered their questions about your life, your career. Andrew joined you about an hour later, and he offered for all of you to come to his flat for dinner. You didn’t want to intrude, but they all insisted, and so you ended up yielding.

Andrew was nervous, although he tried very hard to hide it.

The adrenaline from the afternoon had not waned yet, he was still a little high on it. The fact that his parents were now sharing some of his childhood stories with you wasn’t helping. It felt a little surreal, to have you talking with them, joking, laughing with his parents. You seemed to easily fit in though, and Andrew couldn’t help but draw the comparison with Sam, how she never quite felt at ease with his parents, especially his father, who was a little more reserved than Raine. But now John was deep in conversation with you, telling you about the days when he was a blues musician, the drummer of a band called Free Booze, and you laughed with him at his anecdotes.

“Of course, everybody was coming in with that written on the sign by the door of whatever pub we were playing at. And once they were inside they thought ‘might as well buy a beer’, and so we were often booked around town!”

You laughed at that.

“So cunning. Great marketing skills right there,” you joked, everybody laughing at the happy memories.

“Ha, these were back in the days,” John heaved a nostalgic sigh. “Then, we had Andrew, and… I had a choice to make. Being a gigging musician wasn’t paying all the bills every months, sometimes it was working well, but other times it was inconsistent. Having a second child, I had to give up on it. Besides, I didn’t feel like travelling around the country with my two lads at home.”

“Do you ever regret quitting music?” you asked, voice gentle.

“No, not really. It was not an easy choice to make, but music demands a lot of sacrifices. And I was certainly not ready to sacrifice my family for it.”

You nodded, humming in quiet agreement.

“So, that’s where your love for music comes from then?” you turned to Andrew, and he nodded with a smile.

“Yeah… grew up being fed a lot of blues, rock, soul music… stuff like that.”

You nodded, before Raine would draw the conversation to another topic. Andrew saw you sneaking a bit of food to Elwood, and he smiled fondly at the sight, his heart growing warm at the thought that you fitted so easily into his family, into his home. His parents seemed to genuinely like you, and you seemed to like them as well. By the end of the evening, you had learned a worrying number of silly anecdotes about Andrew’s childhood, you were planning to exchange recipes with Raine, and were setting a bet on the next win for the Irish Rugby team with John. It seemed easy for you to fit into the bubble of love that surrounded Andrew. Sam had never felt like that…

His parents were staying a little longer, planning on helping Andrew clean up, but they all shushed you when you offered to help. You seemed tired, Andrew could see it, and he knew you had classes early the next day. He offered to walk you back to your car, just so that he could steal a few minutes alone with you.

“Thank you for today, Andy! It was grood craic!” you grinned up at him as you both walked across the street towards your car.

“Thank you for coming. I hope my parents weren’t too obnoxious, especially while I wasn’t around.”

“No! Not at all! Your parents are lovely.”

“Yeah… yeah, they’re very nice people.”

“And now I have so much to work with to laugh at you… mister ‘I’m a bad boy because I climbed a rotten tree thinking it was a ladder, and now I have scar on my chest and I look like I was attacked by a bear!’”

You both exploded with laughter, Andrew shaking his head.

“Christ, don’t tell that to anyone, I’m begging you…”

“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.”

You reached your car, but lingered by the door, turning to him instead.

And God, you looked so beautiful like this, in your black jeans and green shirt… the lights of the lampposts shining in your hair. It wasn’t raining anymore, but the street was still damp, tainted with orange hues by the light.

He wanted to kiss you so badly…

“Andy… can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” he encouraged you, tilting his head to the side a little.

“I… I assume the poems you wrote in your collections are about Sam, as you were together at the time, but… the ones you added… the new poems you read at the end of the session… were they about her as well?”

Andrew’s heart started to quicken its pace until it was pounding. He nervously rubbed his palms together.

“Hmm… no. I wrote these after she left, so… they were not about her. They… they are about another woman.”

He intensely stared at you, silently trying to convey his feelings. That the poems were about you, about his desire for you, about how strong he thought you were…

He saw that you were struggling to swallow, heard that your breath was catching in your throat. He could have sworn that you were glimpsing at his lips…

But then you shook yourself, and looked away in a hurry.

“Well, good night, Andy! I’m gonna read the rest of your poems this weekend. I’d love to talk about it with you next week, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah! That would be grand, yeah. Sure… Totally!”

You exchanged a shy smile, before you would turn to your car.

And as he watched you drive away, Andrew wondered if you had understood him. If you knew that he had written NFWMB and Talk for you. And if you had, indeed, understood him… were you running away now? Had he made you uncomfortable? Perhaps he shouldn’t have chosen these poems after all, perhaps he should have kept them a secret, or at least, hidden their true meaning, hidden that they were about you.

He walked back to his home, helped his parents wash the dishes.

“Y/N is such a lovely woman!” Raine praised while Andrew was getting busy washing the plates.

“She is,” he nodded with a soft smile.

“Very smart, and with a lovely humour too,” John approved with a nod, putting the washed glasses back into the right cupboard.

“And she is very beautiful,” Raine added. “And single.”

Andy laughed, although he was blushing.

“Mom! Stop it! How do you even know she’s single?”

“I asked her!”

“You’re incorrigible…” Andrew laughed, shaking his head.

“All I’m saying is that… she’s beautiful, around the same age as you, that she… has a strong career, a stable situation. And as your father said, she has a lovely personality, she’s smart… and you seem to have a lot in common. And she seems to be so nice, Andy. So very nice…”

“She is,” Andrew nodded quietly.

Raine looked carefully at her son for a moment, before speaking again.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Andrew said nothing, merely pressed the sponge against a plate.

“You know, we’ve never told you about it but… your father and I… we’ve never really liked Samantha very much.”

Andrew chuckled.

“I know, mom. It was pretty obvious.”

“She was… I don’t know. There was something off with her. I’ve never felt like she fitted into your world very well. Not that a couple should share everything! It’s very important that you both have hobbies of your own, some things that belong to you. But it’s something else entirely to show no interest in your partner’s life.”

“She made efforts,” Andrew answered, growing defensive out of habit more than conviction.

“She never came to your readings. She never read your poetry…”

“She doesn’t like poetry…”

“And I don’t know anything about music. I still listen to your father when he talks about it, still try to support him in the things he loves, even though I don’t understand it on the same level as he does. Just like your father supported me with my art, with me going back to university for a degree…”

Slowly, Andrew nodded.

“You’re right. She wasn’t like that with me.”

Slowly, Raine nodded.

“It’s good that you can see that now, son,” John patted Andrew’s shoulder.

“Hmm…”

“We really want to see you happy, you know?” Raine added, and Andrew nodded with a tender smile. “So… Y/N… for how long have you been writing poems about her?”

Andrew laughed, clearly uncomfortable now.

“Who said I am?”

“Come on now, I’m not blind. The way you look at her…”

Andrew blushed all the way up to his ears.

“Have you asked her out yet?” John asked, but Andrew shook his head.

“We’re both getting out of difficult break-ups… I don’t think this is the right time. I don’t think I feel ready for that. I… I like her a lot. I don’t want to mess it up because I’m trying to move on too soon.”

He didn’t tell them that he was in love with you. That he had fallen in love with you a little bit more every day for months now… that he kept on falling every time he looked at you, with every conversation and every new detail he learnt about you.

No, he didn’t tell them that. Instead, he merely cleared his throat.

“Anyway… I don’t think she sees me like that at all,” he added, but both his parents exchanged a look, and then chuckled fondly at their son.

“You can be so blind sometimes, Andy…” John shook his head.

“What?”

“She likes you. A lot,” Raine stated as if it was the most obvious truth on Earth.

Andrew blinked at her, his hands still in soapy water.

Did you? Did you like him? Really?

[justmeinadaze]

Nothings Gonna Change My World (Steddie X You)(Serial Killers Universe)

Warnings: Experimentees Steddie & Y/N, In alternate Universe ( Serial Killers Steddie & Victim Stalked Fem Y/N), SMUT, roleplay (CNC I guess?), knife play (light, no cutting), sub/dom dynamics, bondage, degrading (whore, little girl, "you wanted this."), slapping, choking, hair pulling, semi public (in the woods), mentions of after care afterwards (of course).

ANGST (obviously), in the current universe Y/N is still struggling with her feelings of the last chapter, the doctor does find out the truth they've been hiding.

In the alternative universe, Steddie are killers, there's no details of them killing anyone but blood is mentioned, they do tie her to a chair and degrade her, they let her go to chase her, mentions of her feelings afraid and talking about the glimpses on instability in their eyes. Mentions of murders and the towns general fear. Readers alcoholism is mentioned. In this universe it's mentioned that the reader was in jail at one point.

Word Count: 5230

Series here/Donate

“Why didn’t you say anything?”, the doctor growls in frustration as he leans against his desk in front of you and the guys with his arms folded. 

“We were afraid of getting removed from the experiment.”, Steve answered as your head continued to hang. 

It had been a week since you saw Kallie in the other universe and the doctor had you three monitored on bed rest the entire time. You had nightmares of what happened, waking up screaming with either Eddie or Steve there to comfort you. 

You were mentally exhausted and the one person you wanted to talk to was no longer available in your current universe. 

“Why would you think that? If anything, I’m even more curious now.”, the doctor sighs. “You said you three have never met each other until the start of this?”

“Um, Steve and I went to school together but we never really spoke or spent time together. He was an asshole.”

At Eddie’s words, the other man’s lips pursed as his jaw clenched knowing it was true. 

“But not you, Y/N? You don’t know either of these men outside of here?”

“No, she didn’t.”, Steve answer for you when you didn’t respond. 

“Hm. I’d like to test something if you’re three up for it? Last week, the group went to a universe that frightened the bulk of our experimenters. In this particular universe, they mentioned the world being terrified over a couple of serial killers. I’d like you three to try it and see where you land.”

“Why?”, Eddie asks. 

“Because…some people mentioned broadcasts on the tv in the background whatever was happening while they were there. Suspects were two men…

“I still don’t understand why you want us to experience that if it was traumatizing for the others.”, Steve replied to the doctor.

“If you three run into each other in every universe…selfishly…I’m kind of curious how Y/N plays a part in a dynamic like that.”

“Well, fuck that. We aren’t you living dolls that you can fuck around with—”

“Technically Mr. Harrington, you are since you signed up for this experiment. Now, you don’t have to do this. I was just suggesting as a scientist—”

“I’ll do it.”, you interrupt causing all heads to turn your way. “When do we start?”

“Um, we can hook you up in 30min, if you’re sure—”

“I’m sure.”

And with that, you get up from your seat and exit the office. 

***

“Y/N, wait. Hang on, God damn it!”, Steve grunts in frustration as he runs after you and grabs your arm that you angrily pull away. “Why are you so eager to do this?”

“Because I want to feel something other than what I’m feeling right now.”

“So you want to feel like a victim?” At Eddie’s comment, you glare his way. “If we are what he believes in this universe and we always run into you in every universe than we’re most likely going to be trying to kill you if we haven’t already.”

“Hm, I can’t wait.”, you sass before the other boy tugs on your bicep. “Jesus Christ! You are not my father or my fucking boyfriend. Boyfriendsssss.”, you growl as you shove them way from you. “I don’t need you to take care of me or tell me what to fucking do. Now stay the hell away from me!”

“You’re so fucking stubborn you know that!”, Steve shouts as he fully lets you go. “Even in this universe you tell us that you love us but then pull shit like this! It’s fucking exhausting, Y/N!”

“Good! Then maybe you’ll fucking listen to me this time and stay away!”

***

As the nurse guides you into this new room, you can’t help but be a little intimidated at the new placement of the pods and machines in the middle of the room. 

Three vessels were placed in a circle with all of your heads facing in the same direction with a camera dangling from the ceiling above. Unlike previously, it seems the doctor was pulling out all the extra stops to gather as much information as he could with what he had available. 

With how they reacted before you were under the impression, you would be doing this session by yourself so when both men stomped in and sat in their respective places you were surprised. 

“Ok guys, everything is still the same. Four hours under and you can’t interact, just observe.”, the doctor relayed as he glanced over you nervously. “We’re monitoring your vitals so if it gets too intense and you react like last time—”

“This won’t be like last time.”, you interject before he nods at the nurses standing off to the side to take over.

“I love you, Y/N.”, Eddie mumbles as the three of you lay back in your pod. “I’m not sure if we’ve said it back to you but I do. I don’t know what’s going to happen when we go under but no matter what…in this universe, sweetheart…I love you.”

“I love you to.”, Steve adds. “Your right…we may not know much about you here but we do know that you are a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. We may not be the best men but…”

“We’re the best men for you.”, the metalhead finishes when he pauses.

“Yeah…”

Before you can reply, the nurses split up between you three to place the goggles over your head and administer your calming agent.

“Alright, sweetie, here we go. Dropping in, in 3, 2, 1…”

###############

“Everything’s going to be alright, babe. Fuck our father.”

You smile as your thumb grazes over your phone as you reread the text your sister sent. Today was supposed to be a big day for you. You had worked so hard to get the promotion at your firm but with one phone call from your dad it was all taken away. 

“Whisky. Neat.”

If it wasn’t for the incredibly strong smell of cologne you probably wouldn’t have even noticed the gorgeous man beside you as he absently dug into his suit pocket and threw some bills on the counter. 

When his eyes met yours, he smiled wide as your own eyes nervously looked away. 

“If I may, ma’am, you are extremely beautiful.”, he complimented making you blush as you ducked your head. “Oh, come on, honey, I don’t bite. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”, you mumble shyly as you extend your hand that he promptly takes into his own. 

“Well, Y/N, it’s nice to meet you. May I ask why you’re sitting here all by yourself staring at a shot glass?”

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”

“Hm…and your boyfriend lets you drink alone on Friday nights?”

“I’m not…not drinking…just…” Again, your gaze shifts and this time he follows it as he takes a seat beside you. 

“Just what, Y/N?”, he asks softly but you detect a hint of annoyance.

“I had a bad day.”, you whisper. “My boss, Angelique Dyer—”

“Pfft, I know that bitch.”, the man sighs as he takes a sip of the drink he was given. “I’m sorry, baby, please continue.”

“She skipped over me for a promotion and I worked so hard for it to. I worked so many late nights and did everything she asked.”

“But…”

“She did a background check on me and called my father. I, um, I was in jail a few years ago. Not for long but…”

“For?”

You sighed knowing the information would most likely scare him away; it always did with people you met. Your boyfriend was the only person to ever really see you as you and not judge you for your past. 

“Y/N.”, the man coos softly as his thumb caresses your hand that you didn’t realize was still in his grasp. “You can tell me anything. It’s not my place to judge. I would know; I’m a lawyer.”

While you giggle at his joke, with his free hand he reaches into his pocket and hands you his card. 

Steven Harrington

“Steven…”, you grin making him softly smile back. 

“You can call me Steve.”

Blinking up at his kind features, you exhale your nerves as you tell him the truth. 

“I was arrested for public intoxication and assault. My sister and I were having a bit too much fun and she took away my keys so I wouldn’t drive. Her boyfriend got mad saying she was ‘babying’ me and grabbed her arm so…I punched him.”

“Sounds like a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah… Anyway, I had been in trouble before and my father wanted to teach me a lesson so…”, you shrug. 

“How did you get hired if that was on your record? I mean I would figure if it’s enough to not promote you than why bother right?”

“I, uh, I probably shouldn’t tell you.”, you giggle as you reach for the shot glass and bring it to your lips. 

Before you can taste anything however he places his large palm over the top and guides it away from your mouth. 

“You can tell me anything, pretty girl.”, he replies in a sultry voice that has you blushing again.

“My boyfriend works for IT and he’s so smart with computers but people never take him seriously. He, um, did a thing that hid my record.”

“I see.”, Steve retorts as his lips form into a thin line as he grabs the shot from your fingers and chugs it back. “My friend and I may be able to help you. He works at my firm with me doing research and stuff so he’s really good with technology himself. At most maybe we can help find you a loophole or something.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you finally gather your faculties enough to pull your hand from his grasp. 

“Why? Why would you want to help me?”

The lawyer’s head tilts to the side while his beautiful eyes glisten as they scan you over from head to toe. 

“Because nice, pretty girls like you deserve to be happy.”

Absorbing his words, your own irises take him in before fleeting to the tv above the bar behind him begging people to take extra caution while out especially at night. Another body had been found in the lake nearby in the same manner as the other victims believing it to be committed by the two serial killers at large. 

As your eyes meet his again, you can’t help but feel safe with this man you had just met. 

“Ok.”, you squeak eliciting an enormous grin to twitch across his face that would make the devil himself blush. 

“Good. My car is out back here. I couldn’t get a parking spot near the bar.”

After paying for your beverage, Steve takes your hand in his and you allow him to guide you down the street to a parking lot that seemed completely abandoned. 

“Steve, you should be careful parking in a lot like this. Someone could hurt you and no one would know.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Before you could respond, arms roughly grabbed you from behind and covered your mouth as you were aggressively pulled into the backseat of his car. 

***

Your wide eyes watched Steve as he casually sauntered past you as if you weren’t even there. 

His friend, who had just spent the last thirty minutes dragging you into their house and bound you to the chair you were currently in, kept his intense chocolate eyes zeroed in on you. A small smirk painted on his lips while he absently twirled the handle of a knife against the counter. You noticed immediately that his clothes and parts of his hands were stained red frightening you even more as you pulled at your restraints. 

“How did it go?”

“Smooth. She was shocked to say the least but definitely didn’t see me comin’.”, the long-haired man answered. “She didn’t scream or make any noise. Hopefully this one is different.”

The wink he tossed your way made you shutter but you didn’t want them to think you were weak. You had fought so many people in your lifetime in every sense of the word and if tonight was your last night, you were going to go down swinging.

“Where is she now?”

“Trunk. I thought maybe after we could go to the lake on the opposite side of town. Kill two birds with one stone so to speak.”

Steve’s amber eyes flicked your way before shifting to the floor and nodding as he slid off his suit jacket, throwing it aside. 

“I genuinely am sorry for this, Y/N.”, he sighs as he walks towards you, bringing one of the table chairs with him, and placing it in front of you, crossing his legs as he rolls up his sleeves. “I know you had a bad day but you chose this.”

His friend behind him snickered when your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

“You were at that bar all alone even though there’s a killer out there.”

“KillerSSSS.”

“Dressed in that short skirt that shows off those beautiful legs practically begging to be touched.”, he sighed, licking his lips as he watched you squirm in your seat. “You said you had a boyfriend yet you engaged in conversation AND left with me. Were you even going to tell him you were with me? Did he even know you were there?”

Gradually leaning forward, Steve removed the tape from your mouth and waited for an answer. 

“You said you were going to help me… I-I trusted you.”

Blinking, his lips pouted out as his jaw clenched before tilting his head towards the other man and gesturing towards you.

“I don’t think I’ve introduced you to my friend here. This is Eddie.”

While being introduced, the metalhead casually stalks your way, giving you a small wave with his fingers before blindsiding you with a rough smack to your face.

“Every time you don’t answer one of my questions, Y/N, Eddie here is going to hurt you. Am I being clear? Say ‘Yes, Sir.’”

Taking too long for his liking, Steve curtly nods and the other man hits you again. 

“YES, SIR!”

The knife Eddie had been fiddling with clinks through the air as it lightly taps the chair and the sharpness of the end grazes your cheek threateningly. 

“This will go a lot smoother for everyone if you get rid of the attitude, sweetheart. Or, if you prefer, we can end it all right here right now.”, he whispers menacingly into your ear sending goosebumps down your spine. 

“Yes, Sir.”, you respond again with less force, seemingly satisfying them both. 

Steve leans forward, balancing his knees on his elbows while his friend smirks and positions himself behind you to play with your hair; the action oddly calming considering the circumstance. 

“Were you going to tell your boyfriend where you were going?”

“N-No, Sir.”

“Why?”

“He…he wouldn’t like it. M-M-Me—”

“Leaving a bar with another man. Hm. Most men wouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”, you murmur as your head hangs. 

“Are you?”, Steve asks causing your head to snap back up so your eyes could glare at him. “Even though you know it was wrong, you still left with me…still talked to me…still let me hold your hand. The entire time you’ve been tied to this chair, I’ve watched you rub your thighs together anytime me or my friend are near you. You like this don’t you?”

After a rough tug of your hair, you answer. 

“Y-Yes, Sir.”

The lawyer smirks as he slides to the floor, his dark, gorgeous eyes locked on yours as his palms grip your knees and opens your legs wide to reveal your silky panties under your skirt. 

“You like being a bad girl, don’t you, Y/N?”

This time, when you take too long to answer, Steve’s palm wraps around your throat and touches his nose to yours. 

“Don’t deny or try to hide it. I can fucking smell how wet you are. Answer my fucking question.”

You heard it in his tone; the desperation slipping out under the darkness. Now was your chance to try and get the upper hand.

“Is this what you need, Mr. Harrington? Is this how you get girls to submit? Fucking pathetic.” You’re barely able to let out your sarcastic laugh before Eddie yanks on your hair again and holds the knife to your throat just above his friend’s hand. 

“You show us fucking respect, little girl.”

“Respect for what?! The fact that you can’t get a woman in your house without taking her and tying her to a chair? You’re weak!”

The annoyance in his eyes change to amused as he rises to his feet and pushes Eddie to the side as he takes the knife to free you from your binds. 

“You’re absolutely right, honey, and quite frankly, my friend and I DO enjoy the chase. It’s been a while since a woman didn’t just willingly succumb to my charms.”

“Ok, calm down, Steven.”, Eddie teases as he grabs your bicep and aggressively lifts you from your chair, shoving you away from them. 

“We’ll give you a thirty second head start. The front door behind us is locked and we aren’t opening it. You could hide in the house and call for help but you don’t have a phone and we don’t have a landline so I don’t see how much helpful that would be. Out back there past the forest is a couple of our neighbors but the closest one is about a three-mile walk so you’d have be quick.”

“A-Are you serious?”, you ask as you begin to slowly back away from them. 

“If you succeed in escaping, then I promise we’ll leave you be. If we catch you…”

“You’re ours.”, the metalhead grins wide displaying all of his teeth. “Better run fast.”

Tilting his watch, Steve’s eyes never leave the gold around his wrist. 

“Go.”

Your terrified eyes flick between them trying to figure out if this is a trick but you barely have time to think as Eddie stomps his boot forward as if he’s about to give chase causing you to run out the back door past the pool and into the woods. 

After exactly thirty seconds, Steve taps his friend’s shoulder causing him to sprint towards the direction they saw you disappear in while the man himself slowly followed behind. 

***

You figured if you were going to survive this, the woods would be your best bet. An open space that you could run around should they stumble upon you as well as being able to hide behind a tree with the darkness of night to cloak you. 

You half expected them to taunt you in some way, calling your name or mocking you. A part of you hoped for it so you knew exactly where they were. Every little sound caused you to jump and hide before realizing it was your own shoes. 

“Not fast enough, princess.”, Eddie singed, suddenly appearing beside you and wrapping his strong arms around you. 

“Let me go!”, you shout as try to elbow him in the stomach to no avail. 

“Didn’t get very far, did you?”, he growled as his grip never faltered. “We could have done this inside but you wanted to do this the hard way.”

As he held you to him, your body folded into his and you could feel the large bulge in his jeans pressing against your ass. 

“You feel that, sweetheart? My cock is so hard just from hunting for you. I kept thinking about what we were going to do after we caught you.” With one arm firmly holding you in place, he utilized his other to lift your skirt and sloppily pull down your panties just enough to spank your behind before sliding his long, thick fingers into your pussy. “Fuck, baby, you were thinking about it to, weren’t you, dirty girl?”

You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your lips as he pumped his digits deep inside of you hitting that spongy spot inside of you no one else had reached. 

“I told you, honey, you like this.”, Steve chuckled as he appeared out of the dark and sauntered towards you. “You like being a bad girl and being used by us.”

“Fuck, Steve, I can’t wait any longer.”, Eddie whined as you listened to him fumble with his belt. “Bend. I said fucking bend!”, he scolded as his palm pushed on your upper back, bending you in half. He wasn’t gentle by any means as he guided himself inside you, bottoming out quickly and eliciting a loud gasp as he stretched you out. 

“Say it.”, the lawyer commanded calmly as he watched your face contort in pleasure while his friend thrust his hips at a vigorous pace. “You know what I want to hear.”

“I…I’m a bad girl…fuck…”

Ring laced fingers took hold of your shirt, tearing it enough to expose your bra before Eddie moved it to grasp your breast and pull your hair with his other hand. 

“And?”

“I…please…”

Folding over you, the long-haired man’s breath warmed your ear as he growled, “You want to cum, you answer him.”

“I like being used by you!”, you rushed out verbally. “Please, Sir. Pleeeeease.”

Panting against your shoulder, Eddie pumped and rolled his hips till you felt the ball drop in your belly. Hastily covering your mouth to muffle your screams, he chased his high till he grunted and pounded his release into your cunt. 

“That’s it, you little whore. You take my cum and say thank you.”

“T-Thank…Thank you—nah!”, you whimper as he pulls out and pushes you to the dirt. 

Steve sinks to his knees and you immediately sit up but before you can adjust yourself, his stern eyes give you pause.

“Come here.”, he beckons. Doing as he commands, you place yourself in front of him looking up at him with those big, innocent eyes he loves. “Take my cock out.”

Without breaking eye contact, you reach forward and undo his belt, relishing in the slight increase of his breathing when your hand takes hold of his length to remove it from its confinement. 

“That’s it. Keep your eyes on me while you stroke it.” Utilize the beads of precum leaking from his slit, you ran your palm up and down as he licked his lips followed by a pleasure filled sigh. “Tell me you want me.”, he whispered, almost sounding vulnerable as you felt your heart break. 

“I want you.”, you murmur as your hand moves at a faster pace. 

The look in his eyes shifted like it had before to that desperation that seemed more frightening than the darkness that had been on display. Placing his palms beside you, he walked you back till you were pressed against the dirt with him hovering over you. 

“You want me? Put my cock inside that tight little pussy.” Steve’s tone was now rough, no longer carrying the light but sinister charm he showed you before. “I’m tired of fucking repeating myself, little girl. If you want to make it through tonight you better fucking listen.”

To emphasis his point, Eddie balanced on his heels beside your head and ran the dull side of the blade along your chest. 

The lawyer’s eye lids fluttered when you guided him inside you, your hips slightly rolling to take him as far as you could. Pinning your wrists above your head, he took over and delivered a hard thrust that punched the air from your lungs. 

“Ah!”, you moan, biting your lip when he does it again. “Fuck.”

“You love the way my dick feels, don’t you?”

“Mmm—Yes, Sir.”

“You love being fucked like this don’t you, dirty girl?”

“Na—ah! Yes!”, you whimper as he slams into you again, now finding a steady rhythm as his cock repeatedly and violently hits your g-spot. 

“I’ll send you back to your fucking boyfriend throbbing and sore. Shit. Fucking filled to the brim with our cum leaking out of you.”

 One of Steve’s massive hands released you to squeeze your breast and as his open mouth hovered above yours you couldn’t help but kiss them. Panting, his forehead fell against your neck as he held your lower back closer to him, thrusting into you deeply as he searched for your highs. 

Yours hit you like a freight train as your back arched and like his friend he covered your mouth to muffle the loud scream that rippled through you. Collapsing on top of you, the man pumped his length into you with rough abandon till you felt his rhythm falter and he exhaled a strained grunt as he coated your walls with his release. 

After a few moments, your giggle filled his ears and Steve pushed up on his elbows to look down at your smiling, blissed out features. 

“What are you laughin’ at?”, he asks in a more lighthearted tone. 

“You.”, you beam as you poke his nose with your index. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”, Eddie asks as his fingers pet your hair from his place above you as he looks down at you with concerned eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m ok, baby.”

“Good.”, he grins as his friend gradually pulls out and rises to his feet while the metalhead helps you to yours. Taking in your demeanor, he gently pulls up your panties and places his jacket around your shoulders. “You did really good, pretty girl.”

“How far did I get?”

“Um, in thirty seconds? A few yards.”, Steve guess as he gestures towards the house where you can vaguely see the lights still illuminating from the windows. “To be fair, I think with the adrenaline of the night and everything, Eddie practically flew after you so…”

The three of you laugh as the long-haired boy lifts you into his arms and carries you the rest of the way to your shared home. 

***

After a long bath and some good careful aftercare, you watch the men you love with smitten eyes even as they push your boss’s body off the boat and into the water below. 

“Done and done. You said a lot of people saw her at the bar, right?”

“Yeah, they did and definitely the bartender which speaking of.” Steve pauses as both men turn to face you. “Why did you have a shot in front of you when I got there?”

Blinking, you shrug as you take a seat on the edge of the bow with Eddie sitting beside you as he wraps his arm around you 

“Y/N, honey, you promised me the day I took on your case that you were never going to drink again and remain sober.”

“I know. I know, Steve. I swear I didn’t drink anything either.”

“You were about to—”

“Today was rough.”

“That’s no excuse—”

“Steven, get off her back, yeah?”, the metalhead cut in before resting his chin on your shoulder. “I feel like this is partially my fault. I should have expected them to upgrade their system after I hacked in there the last time. I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, no.”, you reply as you turn to cup his cheeks. “None of this is your fault. Either of yours… I appreciate you trying and doing all this for me.”, you gesture absently around you. “I know you both like to take your time when it comes to the people you kill.”

“Yeah but this was for you, sweetheart. Everything’s easy with you.”, Eddie murmurs as he kisses your cheek. “If you wanted us to take care of your dad we would.”

“No…plus that would be too risky. You guys could get caught or Kallie could get in trouble since she works for him.” Your gaze shifts from his to Steve’s whose eyes are scanning you over intensely. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you three.”

Kneeling in front of you, the lawyer takes your hands in his and kisses the back of them. 

“Nothing’s ever going to happen to us, honey, I promise.”

Tilting down, you take hold of his chin and kiss his lips before doing the same with Eddie. 

“I want you. I want you so bad.”, the metalhead lightly sings making you and his friend laugh as the memory of the night you were first intimate with them while that song played in the background flashed through your head. 

“I want you so bad, it’s driving me mad. It’s driving me…”, you sing back as your forehead presses to his, continuing to giggle as he pretends to play the guitar. 

Extending his hand towards you, you take it and allow Steve to lead you inside the boat with Eddie close behind as you gasp at the table set with roses, candles, and your favorite meal. 

“We know that playing the way we do helps clear your mind after a bad day but we also wanted to show you how much we appreciate and love you like normal men do.”

“Mr. Harrington, when have we ever been normal?”, you tease.

The three of you smile as Eddie lifts you off your feet, wrapping his arms around you to guide you to a chair so you could eat.

#####################

“There we are, sweetie. Please don’t run off.”, the nurse coos, slightly surprised when you do what she asks. “How are you feeling?”

You don’t know why but you suddenly feel the need to laugh.

Your cackle ripples through you and after a few seconds it’s followed by both boy’s deep chuckles as well. 

“Huh. Fascinating.”, the doctor muses as he watches the display. “What happened?”

“Can we talk about it later?”

Without even waiting for an answer, you remove all the devices attached to you and head down the hallway to your room where both men trail after. 

“You protect me…in every universe…and that scares me but…”, you pause as your eyes shift through the air searching for the right words. “I just realized that you both put so much faith in me…even after everything you went through. Even in that universe I felt how that Steve needed to feel wanted because of everyone that abandoned him and how that Eddie desperately needed to feel in control especially with death because of the people you lost.

I think the reason you do that so willingly is because in every universe, you have each other. You…help make my life better…you make me happy. It’s been so long since I’ve been happy…even before Kallie died.”

“What are you trying to say, sweetheart?”

Silently, you stride Eddie’s way, cupping his cheeks as you jump into his arms and passionately kiss his lips. His limbs circle tightly around you as he lifts you off your feet for a brief moment before placing you back down. 

“I’m saying I want to try being more open with you two if you’ll let me.”

The metalhead lets you go and Steve lifts you up again, wrapping your legs around his waist as he softly kisses you. 

“Of course. We can take things slow, baby.”

You allow him to carry you to the bed behind you where both men lay on either side of you, tenderly kissing any part of your body they can reach as your arms and legs tangle together. 

################

@baileebear @jasminelafleur @twirls827 @dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @starboygf @alba8688 @crybabyddl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @utterlyinsanity @hardladyheart @yesimabratandwhataboutot @chelebelletx @season4steve @fic-lover-29 @micheledawn1975 @dreamerjj @cherryc1nnam0n

[munsooooon]

"Oh hi, Steve!" says a young girl who seems very nice, Steve is sure he has seen her in the building, but they have never spoken.

"Hello?" Steve utters in confusion.

"This is Alice, your downstairs neighbor"

"Oh, nice to meet you"

Alice smiles sweetly.

"I don't mean to be obnoxious, I say this with sincere kindness, but would you consider turning down the noise in your apartment a little? Please, " Alice said with a slight blush and a chagrined expression on her face.

"Oh yeah, sorry, my roomie loves loud music, but he is a good boy I swear" said Steve with a smile.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about your roomie. I was talking about you and your girlfriend, I can hear you from my apartment, and I don't think the old people on the second floor would be too happy"

"Oh," Steve is experiencing different colours on his face. He didn't know he could experience embarrassment in so many ways.

Because the girlfriend Alice assumes is actually Robin. Ewwww.

And my god, everyone hears when he's having sex with Eddie.

He can't coordinate his brain to respond to Alice.

OH MY GOD! That's why Alice knows his name because he's pretty sure he's never told her his name before.

"Don't worry, Steve," Alice says softly. "There's nothing wrong with it, just keep making your girlfriend happy in silence"

Steve smiles apologetically, Alice waves goodbye.

"If I didn't know what your roomie looked like, I'd think it was him" Alice says jokingly "but obviously it's not him because he's an super badass metalhead, he couldn't sound that incredibly cute, right?"

Steve smiles and runs to his apartment, where he tells Eddie, who laughs out loud until he has to hold his stomach. Steve loves him.

"Eddie! The whole building knows we're having sex."

"Steve, you've had that reputation since you were 15."

True.

"What can I say? My man takes good care of me." Eddie says proudly.

Steve kisses him. He is so in love.

"You have to be quiet next time"

"Yeah? Make me be quiet."

[lovelyshu]

han jisung and yn being absolutely in love with each other for 5 minutes — [1.3m views]

description. Cute moments caught on camera between han and yn

tags. f!reader, gidle!reader, maknae!reader, use of yn, gidle has a video with skz of competition, reader calls him oppa like once

comments. I have nothing to say, these are just some random scenarios I thought about and wrote. Please enjoy! <3

✰ first clip

During an award event, yn was yet again lost in the crowd. And the other members were trying to find her, even if discreetly.

But then, one of the cameras caught yn bumping into someone. Well, that someone being han jisung.

It was clear even from a distant that both of them got embarrassed by it, quickly bowing and apologizing.

Both of them stayed there awkwardly smiling, until han grabbed his phone to show yn something. To which she excitedly typed something in, before seeing Shuhua running in her direction.

Saying a quick goodbye, she ran off to shuhua's arms, having to listen to a scold and a teasing about always being lost.

What the camera did not caught was their conversation.

“You got his number?!”

“Yess!! I'm literally dying right now!”

“If he says anything bad to you I'm hunting him down all over Korea!”

✰ second clip

As the chk chk boom challenge went viral, a lot of idols were quick to do them. That meant that yn was also doing it.

In the clip, yn is seen trying to hold back her laughter, standing right next to han who was with the same expression waiting for the chorus to begin.

Yn did the challenge with han smoothly, until she messed up at the very end, making both of them burst out in laugh.

Laughing, yn lost the strength to keep standing on her legs, now almost falling to the floor.

Well, until han almost ran (even if they were already pretty close) to her and caught yn on his arms, still laughing.

It's very hard to see due to the camera, but if you squint your eyes hard enough you'll notice a tint of blush on jisung's face, and yn slowly getting more flustered if not for the video ending.

✰ third clip

During han's one kid's room, one of the topics were about people he really cared about.

As the conversation went on with mentioning all of the members and his family as well, until jeongin remembered of someone.

“Isn't there yn too? He's always talking about her.”

“Oh yeah you're right, han never shut ups about her.” - Hyunjin continued, all of them now laughing at some inside joke.

When it was jisung's turn to talk, he said almost the same thing, until he looked down for a moment smiling, suddenly feeling shy.

“There's also yn. We talk a lot and she's probably the closest person I have outside the group and my family. She's very special.”

✰ fourth clip

Gidle was in an interview, answering fans questions about their songs, life, future comebacks and the usual.

Some of the questions were directed to specific members. And one of them being "Does yn have someone she really loves apart from her group?"

Thinking for a moment, yn smiled without even noticing, excited to answer the question.

“Yeah! I really love han from stray kids. His very friendly and kind, I enjoy his company a lot.”

The other members looked at her with widen eyes, a surprised smiled on all of their faces, making yn confused. Until she understood what it might have sounded like.

“I-I mean that in a friend way! I love him as my friend!”

And that was all it took for them to start laughing at her, soyeon even holding on her shoulder lightly.

✰ fifth clip

Felix was recording a vlog, filming the backstage before one of their shows. Everything was chaotic as usual, as he talked about the show.

Suddenly, han came out of a room, not noticing the camera. Felix went silent as he pointed the camera to the man, now hearing what he was talking about.

“Have yn called to any of you? My phone is almost dead so turned it off. She said she would call me before the show begun.”

He continued to talk about the idol, until noticing the camera, making him freeze for a moment before slowly waving at it, an awkward and shy smile on his face.

Jisung was already walking away, regretting his life decisions, and wanting to disappear even more as Minho shouted to him.

“No, she haven't called yet!”

✰ sixth clip

Miyeon was filming a vlog of how their day was going. Yuqi and shuhua were talking on the couch, while soyeon and yn were no where to be seen.

Searching for them, miyeon caught the sight of yn sitting on the corner of the room, hugging a little quokka plushie, a photocard and cellphone in hands.

Giggling to herself, she approached the girl, who quickly noticed the camera and was desperately trying to hide the objects.

“Hi miyeon unnie! Do you need anything?”

“I'm just filming our daily life. What are you doing?”

Yn stared at her with a dumbfounded smile, pressing a few times on the screen before showing it to her unnie.

“I'm listening to our songs.”

Miyeon knew she wasn't, but not wanting to make the poor maknae die on camera, she just nods, walking away to continue the filming.

✰ seventh clip

The first time gidle had managed to record something with stray kids, it was a competition between the members.

They formed seven teams with two people, han and yn being paired up together.

After some games and a lot of chaos, the next game they had to play was one in which, two teams will compete, trying to pull the tail from one of the members.

The one who manages to pull the tail out of their clothes first wins. And the final teams to play were han + yn and shuhua + jeongin.

It was the final round, and yn was the one with the tail, while han was mostly trying to protect her and avoid the other two to get too close.

After around thirty seconds in running around, yn managed to pull the tail from jeongin, making both of them cheer in excitement.

Without thinking twice, jisung and yn ran to each other for a hug, staying there for a long moment before pulling away, a slightly timid expression on both of their faces.

✰ eighth clip

At the music bank program, yn had the opportunity to be one of the mcs for a short period of time.

During this time, stray kids went to the program. Yn was doing an amazing job at being the mc, to which jisung complimented.

Feeling shy from his compliment, yn thanked him, clapping her hands together to avoid looking too timid as she smiled.

“Thank you jisung oppa!”

He mirrored her smile, as the other members laughed a bit.

After a few seconds of talking, seungmin bumped into han's shoulder, not saying anything, but a smirk forming on his face.

Han only looked away, embarrassed by the tease, without saying anything as well to not get the attention of anyone else.

[rsventhesecondd]

headcannons , ┓

• →  Featuring . Hiragi Toma as your FUBU  !

☁️┆ ⤿ request by  @anon :3 ༺  ╰ ღ WBK :  requests open  ╯🦢

• HIRAGI TOMA as your fubu — headcannons ! •

warnings . contains nsfw , degrading , pet names , semi-public sex , fluff , all characters used are aged up to 18 , f!reader + not proof read yet . note . some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes.  ๑❛ᴗ❛๑ authors note . this is slightly rushed since I'm in the midst of my exams , and I feel bad for making you wait for too long :( so I decided to work on this !! And I wasn't really sure about the layout, but nevertheless— please enjoy reading !

fubu!hiragi , who always has a mouthful about being punctual— and when you do show up just a few minutes late than your 'scheduled' time, get ready to have your ears ringing from his 'you're late' , 'how many times have we talked about this' – causing you to roll your eyes. He's never really gonna let this go, isn't he? Not atleast without a kiss.

"You're 4 MINUTES late!" Hiragi said, looking at his watch. "Damn, 'm sorry? Kotoha needed help" You said, panting from the running you did to get there as fast as you can. He deadpans, his gaze now lingering at you; eyes softening up ever-so-slightly at your state. Ah, he just realized. He never really cared or asked about the situations or reasons about people being late before giving them a mouthful. But somehow, during the times he's spent with you— he finds himself being more understanding. "You really-" he says, slightly pausing. "Just.. try to be more punctual next time." "And—" mwa , you pull away with a subtle smile of victory. Well, too bad now you're getting pulled in for more.

fubu!hiragi , whos health issues suddenly fade away when he's doing it with you. His stomach hurting? That's the least of his worries. He'll just devour a whole pack of gaskun 10's ; but right after he devours you.

"Huh? What're you worried about?" He says with a somewhat offended tone as you asked him if he took his daily dose of medication. You wouldn't want him in pain just for your needs. But who do you think you're talking to? "I'm taking my most effective medicine over here." He added, teething on your nipples.

fubu!hiragi , who can and WILL use you as a stress reliever. He'll complain about how those 'little rascals' won't listen to him, he'll complain about Umemiya being a pain in the ass, he'll complain about this, about that; his pace growing rough with every complain he cusses out— with you only spitting out moans in response, you can't even understand half of what he's saying. But who cares?

"S' fucking annoying." He said, his hips slightly moving up an angle that hits just the right spot. "F-Fuck! Hiragi-" You moan out, saliva dripping down your bruised lips. "Can't even begin about that little brat Sakura is. " — he pulls out mid sentence , then going all in with a rough thrust. Those small attempts of your protests mean nothing; not when you're both feeling this good.

fubu!hiragi , who says that you'll need 'extra training' as punishment because you kept getting late during his time. Not on purpose obviously, I mean– who would want to get punished by someone like him?

"Hah.. look at you, you're getting turned on by this, aren't you?" He mocked , roughly pounding you against one of furins graffitied walls. "So desperate for my dick that much? You wanna get punished that badly, huh?" Hiragi added , pressing his index finger against your clit. "Answer my question" You nod furiously as your head lies against the cold concrete. "Need to be punished. S'badly please.."

fubu!hiragi , who has girth— 8 inches long , 8.57 when hard . 4.21 inches wide, cleanly shaved , circumcised , and has a real veiny cock; going over from his balls to his tip, and when you flatten your tongue against it– he just cums. But no way he's ever gonna admit that.

"Fuck." He muttered out, biting his lips unconsciously as he tried to silent his groans out. Can't have people knowing that one of furins strongest kings get humbled over something like this.

fubu!hiragi , who just gets so turned on when he sees you gagging on his cock. He just might go off with the state you're on.

"Shit, you feel so good" He says, his hands roughly tugging on your hair– gagging you as he went off with his bitter load. He better remind himself to throat fuck you every now and then; he thought to himself

fubu!hiragi , whos eyes widened when he got caught making out with you by Umemiya. Quickly blabbering a bunch of unreasonable excuses, but of course Umemiya wasn't hearing any of it.

Well, this leads him to blame you. Because why the hell would you press on to him that nobody would go there when it's literally where most of the higher ranks go. THE ROOFTOP. You better get ready, because he's mad.

"Is this what you want, huh?" He said, roughly pounding at you with a fast pace. "You want to get fucked hard?" — he added before giving you a mark on your neck. "Think it's so funny that I got embarrassed?" Well, goodluck with that.

sincerely , raven ! requested by— anon :3

[resident-idiot-simp]

You can write something where someone makes a sarcastic comment about Wade's appearance, and Logan defends him. with a lot of angst/comfort

(Sorry if my message is not very understandable I am French and use google trad 😭)

(your good my friend Google translate is probably better than my grammar anyways)

Wade was used to the weird looks and whispered comments that came with his appearance. He was used to it but that doesn't mean he enjoyed it

Logan had been shocked the first time he saw his face he hit it well but it was still obvious. Logan however had gotten used to it he had lived with all kinds of mutants with different appearances It wasn't any different.

He was also familiar with how others looked at those who were different and he had always hated it. He hated it every more because this was Wade. Wade who he loved who had saved him.

It was a normal day when it happened they were in the park with Mary and Laura who was actively trying to climb a tree a little way away.

The two of them were talking minding their own business when a comment caught their attention.

"Jesus Christ what happened to that freak?"

Wade froze and shrunk in on himself as Logan held back a snarl. Laura was the closest to the man who made time comment and had hopped out of the tree. She was glaring the man down lips pulled into a sneer.

Logan made his way over as Laura had started cursing the man out in Spanish. "Kit back off." Logan called to her. She turned and responded in clipped Spanish, 'WHY HE WAS INSULTING POP!?'

Logan too switched to Spanish responding, 'I know but I'd rather get in trouble then you.'

Laura scoffed but didn't continue her tirade. Logan turned back to the man scowl obvious. "The hell is your problem man?"

"MY PROBLEM?! First of all what the hell is wrong with her!?" The man said gesturing to a pissed Laura.

That's didn't help Logan's anger, "Sorry if the kit is protective of her pop. Lord forbid she gets pissy because you can't watch your mouth."

The man puffed up indignantly, "What's so offensive I'm just asking questions ."

Logan wasn't an animal he wasn't an animal he was better then his base instincts he was. Laura was growling now and Logan had to get ahold of this before blood was drawn.

"Look it's not my fault you are being an insensitive prick with no tact." Logan shot back and the man just rolled his eyes, "Oh I'm sorry for pointing out the obvious how dare I."

"Is that how you treat all vets?" Logan drawled and that stunned the man silent. Logan didn't allow that, "No keep going if that how you treat people who were tricked and tortured?"

More silence

"What nothing to say? Thought you were just stating facts?" Logan needled and again nothing. Logan leaned in this time to where only Laura and the guy would be able to hear him.

"I've killed people for less then what you've just done. So go before I decided I'm doing a community service." Logan pulled back and flashed abnormally sharp fangs.

The man ran off and Logan just scoffed.

Wade was still shrunken in on himself and Logan hated it. He shared a look with Laura before walking back over. "How about we go harass Weasel? We might even be able to get a job out of it."

Wade's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Only if I can start a bar fight." He bargained. Logan rolled his eyes, "You were going to do that anyway bub."