#I am writing a draft on this au right now

[somepsychopomp]

A Fair Contest

So a little bit ago I drafted an idea for an AU where, instead of the golden apple saying 'to the fairest' it says 'to the most amorous king'

And instead of the ladies fighting over the apple, it's Zeus & Poseidon. In order to determine who exactly is the superior lover (and king + who gets bragging rights), the two brothers select one (un)fortunate mortal that both of them shall take to bed...

and the judge they select for their little contest is none other than Odysseus.

(Takes place pre-Trojan War. In fact there's basically no Trojan War to begin with. Also Odysseus is betrothed but not yet married to Penelope)

Consider this chapter 1 of this fic. I really hope I can finish it because I stayed up to almost 4 am writing this, which is amazing because I've been dealing with a major cold and writers block for a while now

Word Count: approx. 4400

There's no smut yet but I do confess to giving Ody a bubble butt. Also in a world where Ruthlessness never happened/is yet to happen... Poseidon has a thing for strong thighs & is absolutely smitten with Odysseus

Also in my head, I'm imagining Neal's character designs but I think I've kept it vague enough for now that you can imagine whatever designs you like

+++

The wedding had been a most splendid sight, with revelry among both men and gods. The small mortal king, Peleus, was of course honored to host such a wide variety of the gods and have them witness his union with the divine Thetis. Zeus gave the couple his own blessing and permitted Dionysus to pour out his strongest wine for the occasion. 

Well into the night, the attendees danced to a tireless band and feasted upon the finest foods available. Gods mingled with mortals, some sneaking off with a young maiden or cupbearer for some more illicit fun. 

All was going well until the first beam of daylight shone upon a pedestal that no guest noticed before, where a golden apple awaited. 

Curious onlookers clustered around it, wondering where it could have come from. The mortals believed the apple to be made of real gold, thinking it was a lavish wedding gift. The gods were equally mystified, knowing that something so perfect and beautiful could only be given by one of their own. Hera pursed her lips at the sight of it. 

The king of the gods made his way to the center of the crowd, the other guests parting for him with their eyes averted in deference. He regarded the apple with mild curiosity, having a treasury greater than all of Greece’s wealth upon Olympus. A ribbon was tied neatly to the apple’s stem with a message embroidered upon it. 

“To the most amorous king.”

Zeus chuckled at the oddity of this little present and moved to take the apple. 

Only for another hand to grab it at the very same moment. 

The two gods stared at each other. 

“What do you think you’re doing, dear brother?” Zeus asked, the smile falling from his face. 

Poseidon rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Taking my prize.”

“You?” Zeus said, his voice dripping with outrage, “You dare defy your king like this?”

Poseidon’s voice turned sharp and cold. “I am lord of the seas! The gift doesn’t say ‘to the king of the skies’, now does it? No, you read it yourself.”

The mortal guests, including King Peleus, began to make their quick exit from the venue. Some of the lesser gods were also making their sneaky escape, fearing the worst was about to come. 

Hera approached her husband and wrapped her arms around his own, “Darling, it’s just an apple. If you want one, I’ve got a whole orchard full.”

It was true that Gaea, the very earth itself, gave Hera a grove of enchanted apple trees as her wedding gift. The trees were immune to all illnesses and sprouted fruit of pure gold all year round. In all likelihood, this very apple was stolen from the Queen’s orchard.

The god-king’s most favorite child appeared at his other side in an attempt to soothe his growing rage, “Father, listen to Queen Hera. This is a trick meant to sew discord, nothing more.”

Zeus ignored his daughter Athena as if she weren’t there. 

“Let it go, my love.” Hera said, “After all, why have one apple when you could have hundreds?”

Zeus gave her a sharp look, his golden eyes burning with a harsh, radiant glow. The queen of the gods was so taken aback that she shrunk away under the weight of his glare. Zeus said, “I am the god of judgement! No matter how trivial of a token it is, I will not let my brother take what does not rightfully belong to him!” 

Poseidon threw his head back and laughed, not one to be daunted, “Oh, is that so? And how will you prove that it doesn’t belong to me, hm?”

He tossed the golden apple into the air, catching it in his other hand. Zeus bared his teeth and snatched Poseidon’s wrist, unwilling to let elder brother even hold the thing. 

It was now apparent to all the remaining gods what this was really about. 

Neither king would secede when their pride and egos were in jeopardy. For either of them, letting the other take the apple now, after they’ve already started bickering, would mean admitting they were the more feeble lord, a less competent lover. And such a slight against their reputations would never stand. 

“Ahem,” a voice said. 

A lovely woman with flawless bare skin for all the world to admire, a translucent shawl draped around her arms and roses in her pale tresses, stepped forward. 

Zeus barely spared her a glance. “What is it, Aphrodite?”

She smiled, though not without a hint of mischief in her eyes, “I think I have the solution to this little conflict of ours, one that will minimize any substantial damage to our family… or the known world.”

Zeus inclined his head in interest. Poseidon gave the goddess his ear, as well. Zeus let go of his brother and the sea god set the apple down. 

Athena bit her lower lip, knowing that Aphrodite’s schemes were almost never more than just that: schemes. Games to amuse herself with. She had something else in mind. 

Aphrodite snapped her fingers. A large, circular mirror gilded in silver and gold appeared in the air behind her. The surface rippled the same way a pond did when met with rainfall. 

A beautiful young maiden with a long braid of black hair tended to her garden. The image rippled and was replaced with what was clearly a princess being dressed for the day by her servants. Again, the image shifted and showed a handsome young man in a short chiton as he shepherded his flock of sheep. 

Aphrodite said, “Now, I’m sure you two could spend eternity bickering back and forth, boasting of your skills and past conquests, but as the goddess of love myself… why not have more of a practical examination?”

The two brothers exchanged a look, coming to the same conclusion. 

“You want us to share a lover?” Poseidon asked. 

Zeus added, “And have them decide?”

Aphrodite winked and gave them a cheerful smile. “Well, what do you say? There’s no shortage of pretty boys or girls across the land. Come, take your pick!”

Zeus stroked his beard, a few sparks crackling across his fingertips. Poseidon crossed his arms in contemplation. 

“Father, Uncle!” Athena said, trying to catch their attention, “This is madness, can you not see?”

But neither god answered her. Athena was in disbelief. 

All this over a golden apple that neither needed or really wanted. This was all about their reputations as accomplished lovers, which they shouldn’t even have considering they were both married men. 

And Aphrodite, it was clear she was only doing this to make a story out of it, the way she and her son Eros loved to couple mortals together, only to break them apart. No doubt some terrible fate will befall the chosen victim, no matter who they named the superior lover. 

In Athena’s mind, she could only imagine the loser of this game casting some bitter curse upon the poor mortal as revenge. But that was the fun of it for some gods, to see the doomed fate of some poor soul after getting mixed up with the divine. 

Behind Zeus’ back, Hera threw her hands into the air before storming off, summoning her chariot pulled by winged horses to return her to Olympus. 

Athena threw a disappointed look at Aphrodite before leaving as well, deciding to go where her counsel would be appreciated. 

+++

By mid-morning, Odysseus’ back and brow were already covered in sweat as he endeavored to finish the roof over his wedding bed before an unfortunate rain could sully his hard work below. 

The house he was raised in was perfectly fine, but with all the servants and guards on top of his family, it was not the largest of castles. It was also an old thing in constant need of repairs. Odysseus always envisioned a proper palace atop Ithaca’s mountains, one where his own family could grow large and have plenty of space to themselves. 

So, before the eve of his wedding, he endeavored to complete the house of his dreams for his new wife to enjoy. He started with their olive tree, a living symbol of his devotion to his betrothed. Odysseus labored day and night to carve part of it into one of the four posts for his wedding bed, taking extreme caution to not cut away so much that the tree would die. 

The largest bough of the olive tree would overlook one of their windows, with a perfect view of the vast ocean beyond it. Odysseus already carved the other three bed posts and constructed the frame, but there was always more work to do. As the common larborers constructed the foundation and walls for the other rooms in the palace, Odysseus went to work constructing the roof for his bedroom. 

With a sizable living tree in such close proximity to his quarters, he trusted no one but himself to complete the project without damaging it. 

Taking up hammer and nails, hauling wood and stone, and fitting everything into place almost entirely on his own was unusual for a king. Odysseus knew this, but the labor brought him joy like no other. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, imagining opening the door for the very first time as a married man. He would carry Penelope to their wedding bed, built entirely by his hand, and spend the rest of his life with her. 

Focus, he told himself. 

For now, Penelope still dwelled in her natal homeland of Sparta. As soon as her new home was completed, she would set sail for Ithaca.  

Odysseus wiped the sweat from his brow as the sun beat its rays upon his back. Maybe it was foolish to fear the coming rainfall, but he could see the grayish clouds on the horizon.

By midday, he was hopeful he could have the roof finished by nightfall. As Odysseus dropped from one of the wooden rafters into his nearly-complete bedroom, his tunic must have caught on a nail or perhaps a large splinter. He heard the sharp tearing of fabric and grumbled at the gash across his front. One of the room’s alcoves had some of his clothes, since he didn’t have time yet to build the chests or wardrobe. 

Thinking better of a tunic, Odysseus merely replaced it with a rectangular length of cloth fastened at the waist. It was something his mother wove, a lovely shade of blue to match the sea, embroidered with red and white thread. 

From somewhere nearby, he heard the familiar clicking of an owl’s beak coming to greet him. He smiled and turned around, draping his tunic over his arm as his mentor approached him in the form of a brown and white speckled owl. She sank her talons into his arm and flapped her wings as if in outrage. 

He let her perch on the alcove’s lip as he fasted a leather pauldron to his left shoulder. She hopped back on and Odysseus could feel her talons clench and unclench even through the tough leather. 

“What troubles you, Athena?” Odysseus asked. 

He set out through the bedroom’s heavy oak doors, finding himself in a long hallway that was finished, but not yet furnished or cleaned. 

She spoke into his mind, Sometimes, I wish I could belong to any other family but my own. 

Odysseus chuckled. “I’m sorry to hear.”

While he loved his parents and sister dearly, he knew that Athena often butted heads with her siblings and uncle. 

Odysseus counted the windows that still needed shutters and curtains, along with the patches in the roof that had yet to be filled in. Farther along, the great hall where they would entertain guests was still only a skeleton. Only half of the supporting beams and columns were installed and the whole place reeked of sweating men. 

Athena paid the laborers no mind as the citizens of Ithaca bowed for their king as he walked by. 

You know I’m not one for gossip, but I fear something terrible is about to strike the land. 

“Is that so?” Odysseus asked, his smile dropping. 

Yes, a terrible tragedy yet to come in the form of my Uncle Poseidon and my father. 

A servant approached Odysseus with a serving platter. He took a cup of water and drank deeply, and snatched a small bowl of olives before going on his way. 

“They’re angry with us?” Odysseus asked, fearing what this might mean for his people.

No, Athena said, accepting an olive and biting into the tender flesh with her sharp beak, Not quite, but their egos are yet again showing themselves. If you find unusual weather patterns in the next few days, pay them no mind. 

“Ah, I see.”

In truth, he didn’t understand Athena at all. But she seemed in the mood to vent about her personal feelings and seeing as she didn’t do so often, Odysseus was careful to listen. 

Athena clacked her beak in irritation. Odysseus bit into his own olive as he felt a sharp nibble on his ear before she started combing through his damp hair. She must’ve found something in his hair, a bit of dust or a wood chip, because he could feel her tugging at him. 

How goes construction on the new palace?

“Every day, I can see the way it’s growing.”

Odysseus passed by a group of men sitting in a loose circle, taking swigs from a water skin as they fanned themselves. One caught sight of Odysseus and they all scrambled to their feet. 

Odysseus held out a hand to put them at ease, “Catch your breath if you must. A tired man is more prone to making mistakes, and I will not have any in my new house.”

The men all sighed in relief and went back to their break, waving goodbye as he continued onward. Athena cooed to show her approval in his decision. He thought her mood was improving, but not a moment later, she said, I just can’t believe them sometimes. 

“Oh?”

Odysseus thought Athena said her piece already. She clicked his beak right in his ear. 

You would think that the god of law and order would have some sense in his head. But no! Apparently my mother Metis still possesses it. If only Father would listen to her, if not me.

Odysseus said nothing, having never heard Athena speak like this before, especially about her father. He thought it best to remain silent; perhaps Athena could complain about Zeus without punishment, but he knew far better. 

Athena clicked her beak with a different sense of urgency and Odysseus gave her another olive. She held it in one foot while balancing on the other, dropping the pit when she was finished devouring the flesh. 

“You seem awfully worked up,” Odysseus said, “Anything I can do to lift your burdens?”

Athena shook her head. No, I’m afraid this is something that no one man can solve, as frustrating as it might sound. 

He crossed the central courtyard and approached the war room, one of the few nearly-complete parts of the palace, where his chief architects and advisors were waiting to update him on their progress. 

Though Odysseus was primarily trained in the art of war, he was also well-versed in song and poetry, history, oratory, and arithmetic, all courtesy of Athena. He wasn’t an expert in architecture yet, but he had his own hand in designing the layout of the palace. 

“Good day, my friends.” Odysseus said, parting the curtains that served as a makeshift door until the palace was fitted with proper ones. 

One of his elder advisors squinted at Athena upon his shoulder. “My liege?”

Before they could go over any potential issues in the construction or their budgetary concerns, Odysseus wandered over to the window and let Athena take off. She disappeared through the trees, though he knew he’d see her again soon.

+++

Despite the fact the sun was about to set and the two godly kings had been bickering all day long, Aphrodite hadn’t lost her patience yet. In fact, she was even reveling in her task at hand. 

They moved their business to her abode on Olympus, where her many mirrors were put to good use. Zeus and Poseidon scoured the lands for a suitable judge to measure their sexual prowess, each of them interested in different aspects of what made up a potential lover. 

Zeus was pleased with just about any pretty face that breathed, but Poseidon was a bit pickier with appearances. He didn’t want his maidens or young men to be too skinny, and he seemed to have a preference for those with strong legs. Aphrodite could certainly work within those bounds. 

At the same time, Poseidon was more open to sharing a lover with some previous sexual experience, thinking it’d make the whole process easier. Zeus wrinkled his nose at the idea and insisted he wanted someone “new”, not wanting to muck about after some vastly lesser mortal man had his way with their chosen judge. 

Aphrodite agreed that was a good point, so instead of letting the two kings squabble, she put her talents as a matchmaker to good use. After a brief consultation, she put together a list of minimum requirements that satisfied both gods. 

One, their shared lover had to be attractive, preferably with appealing legs. 

Two, they had to be virginal. 

Three, they all agreed that the mortal should come from high standards, so some form of royalty. They could be a princess or a prince, or even someone lesser than that, but anyone of a noble bloodline would be preferable to a random maiden. Of course, both kings had their fair share of peasant-girl chasing, but for such an important competition, Aphrodite understood their concerns well. 

And lastly, the judge should be someone intelligent. Someone who wouldn’t buckle under the pressure of their assigned task and would be able to use not just their body, but logic to determine the true and indisputable winner. 

No doubt each god had their plans to bribe the judge, but who wouldn’t?

If it was Aphrodite competing for the apple, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull out a few tricks of her own. An idiot might be easy to bribe, but that also meant they’d be easy for the competition to bribe as well. To each of the male gods, an intelligent lover would certainly be able to recognize a superior bribe.

“Sadly, your stipulations exclude Helen of Sparta,” Aphrodite said, waving away the image of Helen in her largest mirror, “She’s had children by now, though she’s still quite lovely.”

Poseidon made a noncommittal sound, as if he might reconsider, but Zeus urged Aphrodite to move onto the next candidate with a flick of his wrist. The two of them sat before her best mirror, looking almost comical in her rose-colored, dove-ingrained armchairs. 

They went through a few more potential candidates, including Penelope of Sparta and Ctimene of Ithaca. Neither god was very impressed by her choices, but just as Aphrodite was about to move onto the next candidate, Poseidon held out a hand. 

“Wait a moment,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “Who is that in the back?”

“Oh?” Aphrodite asked. She returned to the image of Ctimene. She was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, her veil fluttering in her wake as her handmaidens walked with her. They seemed to be exiting some great ruin, but on closer inspection, the gods could see men at work. They were building a great palace, it seemed. 

Well, great by the standards of mortals. 

Behind Ctimene, a bare-chested young man held out a hand and seemed to be directing a group of others. Aphrodite’s mirror rippled and showed them the young man in greater detail, leaving young Ctimene out entirely. 

“Oh,” Zeus said. 

Aphrodite concealed her eager smile, more thrilled than ever at this sudden twist. She examined the young man’s features, including the sharp angles of his nose, his dense locks of dark brown hair, and his high cheekbones. He bore a striking resemblance to Ctimene. As the goddess of love, there were a few other details Aphrodite could parse out just by looking at him, but she would conceal her thoughts for now. 

She said, “Why, that would be none other than King Odysseus of Ithaca!” 

Though the young ruler was about the same height as his sister, he was no slight-of-frame weakling. His broad shoulders complimented his strong chest and arms, certainly the build of a warrior. His stomach was a flat plain and below his garments, well muscled thighs teased them almost playfully. 

A pale scar ran along the inside of one of his thighs, but it only added to his character. Though Poseidon maintained his interest, Zeus scoffed. 

“King, you say?” Zeus nudged his brother, “You know what that means.”

Poseidon was still appraising Odysseus’ thighs, “Plenty of whores in and out of his bed?”

“Actually!” Aphrodite said, clapping her hands, “You’ll be beyond pleased to know that young Odysseus here… is virginal.”

Now that had both gods’ attention. The King of the Gods seemed incredulous.

“How old is he?” Zeus asked. 

“Twenty years, my dearest king.”

“And he’s still a virgin?” Poseidon asked, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. “Why? Is he stupid?”

Aphrodite giggled behind her hand, “He’s determined to save himself for marriage, like a maiden! But it can’t be helped. I do believe he’s Athena’s pupil, after all. And I’m sure she holds him to what she perceives as a high standard.”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, “Whatever the case may be, he’s remained celibate thus far. Perfectly ripe and ready to be plucked, if you would.”

The gods of the sea and sky shared a look. 

Zeus said, “Show us more.”

Aphrodite was more than happy to do exactly that. She waved her hand and the stationary image of Odysseus began to move. There was no sound to accompany the vision, but all three of them remained silent as they watched Odysseus work. 

He carried multiple rucksacks full of supplies up the spiral staircases of his house while other laborers stopped to eat their dinner. He seemed more than intent to get somewhere, not stopping until he came across a large bedroom with the roof still letting in sunlight in a few patches. Interestingly, while the bed was large and well made, it lacked a mattress or rug thrown over the rungs. Perhaps that would come later. 

Odysseus hopped out the window, seemingly ignorant to the fact there was a steep drop right below him, as he grabbed hold of a tree bough and climbed into the roof. It looked like he was intent on using every last bit of sunlight to his advantage as he finished laying out the clay shingles. 

The sweat across his body glistened like stardust as the sky above him glowed with the most beautiful shades of red and gold. He put his strong body to use by covering the few bare patches of his rooftop, stopping only to retrieve a shallow clay bowl from his pack, filling it with oil and floating a wick on top before igniting his lamp to give him a bit more light. 

Zeus snapped his fingers. In an instant, Hermes was fluttering at his side. 

“Yes, Father?”

Without taking his eyes off of Odysseus, Zeus said, “Contact Helios. Tell him to wait a while longer before dusk arrives.”

Hermes spared Odysseus a brief glance before nodding and flying off. Though the mortal didn’t seem to notice, the sun did indeed stop setting. 

Odysseus set down his hammer to dab his sweat-soaked face with a rag. He was tiring now, but intent on finishing his job if the determined look in his eyes was any indication. 

Poseidon held up one hand and curled a finger toward himself. 

The hammer that Odysseus just set down began sliding toward the edge of the roof. 

“Brother…” Zeus warned. 

Poseidon said, “Trust me.”

Odysseus snatched the hammer before it could fall, but found himself quite close to the edge now. 

Poseidon cupped his hands around his mouth and blew softly. A wind coming off Ithaca’s coast kicked up, carrying the salty scent of the ocean with it. As Odysseus stood with his hammer, he raised his other hand to shield his eyes from the sudden gust of wind that ruffled his hair and clothing. 

Aphrodite’s eyes widened, instantly recognizing the game Poseidon was playing. She added her own flare as well, using just the slightest twirl of her finger to undo the belt holding young Odysseus’ garments in place. 

The poor young king seemed baffled by his sudden misfortune, moving swiftly to capture his garment before the wind could steal it away. Aphrodite froze the image without being told to do so, but she was quite proud of her timing. 

Odysseus stood in all his mortal splendor, revealing his tan skin scarred by past adventures. He was healthy, with the body of an athlete and his arm outstretched to better display the toned muscles under his skin.  

“What a surprise!” Aphrodite said with mirth, tracing her finger along the surface of the mirror, “Look at his little dimples!” 

Indeed, a twin set of dimples rested over his lower back, no longer concealed by his clothing. But that was not all. Some men were cursed to be rather flat in their rear, leaving them looking awkward or incomplete at times, but Aphrodite was equally pleased that Odysseus had something worth looking at below his dimples. In addition to the well-defined muscles in his shoulders and back, he sported the most grabbable bottom. 

If Odysseus was not doomed to be the plaything between kings, Aphrodite might have been tempted to take him for herself. 

She held out her hands as if Odysseus was nothing more than an exotic animal on display. Poseidon was leaning forward in his chair, his head tilted with interest. Zeus, too, seemed sold at last. His golden eyes sparkled more brightly than usual as he traced over the little king’s backside. He ran his tongue over his teeth. 

Aphrodite smiled, “So, my dears… what do you say? Is Odysseus of Ithaca to be your judge?”

[rae-irien-kimura]

Oto!Naruto and Oto!Anko live in my head rent-free.

[maulfucker]

I am a very serious and good writer

[destiny-in-the-universe]

I'm blaming @drawnfamiliarfaces (/aff /lh) for this, but guess what-

I may be working on a fanfic for Chase Young and First Ninja, and it is absolutely insane; I am going feral because somehow, it's turned into a non-traditional soulmate au for whumptober. That's all you're getting for now. I am unstoppable.

I am a threat.

[crossbackpoke-check]

nosy anon again making a return because i think what my brain did was read that i helped find some kind of writing and then did not fully process what the writing was?? but upon rereading i am very intrigued if you ever get the urge to share i will be all eyes/ears/senses required to enjoy things!!

I GET TO DO WIP WEDNESDAYYYYYY!!! the writing exists mostly in the form of a tag (fantastic! 'verse) and also a thirty-two page doc of snippets and planning, so the sense you will be using most is imagination:

don't think i have ever actually formally written out anything about fantastic! 'verse but! the tl;dr of it is that it's a semi-college au: joel is still a hockey player for the lv phantoms, but morgan is a college student-athlete. it's incredibly relevant to the plot that joel falls in love with morgan in the check-out line of a wegman's, lies a little bit, and ends up going back to get his degree.

most of it is just good fun about college kids growing up, but i think there's a lot of parallels between making your way through a development system where traditional "success" isn't always guaranteed (ahl -> nhl, completion of higher education -> pursuit of a career) because that development system isn't always designed for you to "succeed" or have opportunities. heavy quotation marks around success because part of that struggle is learning what you want in life and how you define success. are your dreams achievable? are they still the same dreams you always used to have? it's infinite branching universes of would you still love me if i was a worm (ahl player forever) (a college dropout) (a college graduate) (older) (realizing the fallibility of your body) (uncertain of the future) (human).

silly little snippet:

[jupiter-reimagined]

My writer brain also isn't working. But when it is... I'ma put Kali through the meat grinder, trust.

hehehe;;; looking forward to it >:)))

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[slightlymore]

deadly kiss

chief architect jaehyun x chief engineer fem reader

genre: office au, enemies? to lovers, dom x dom and trying to force each other to sub, romance, smut, fluff

warnings: +18, alcohol, language, explicit sexual content, oral fem receiving, fingering, random sir kink because i was horny like that, use of pet name baby for her during sex, gagging on fingers and sucking, light choking, raw, sex in office, creampie. 

words: 12k+

have this little something as I warm up back into writing. it was supposed to be longer and with some angst but it has been in my drafts for monthssss and I was sick of it ehaheah enjoy. if some of these things happened to me irl no they didnt :) 

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Present, Monday 2 after the Kiss

That morning you woke up feeling the best you have felt in a hot minute. The sun was shining, the outfit you prepared looked good, you had no trouble putting on makeup that day and your hair looked great. Nothing could have disrupted such a holy morning.

Well, besides a pile of A3 papers on your desk. 

The sigh that escaped your chest as you stepped into your office sounded so defeated that your colleagues turned around in their wheeled chairs to check if you were okay. 

It’s not like you hated to have piles of paper on your desk. That was your job after all. 

It was the owner of those papers that made you roll your eyes so far back in your head that you saw green stars. 

“Can you kindly check these and confirm they’re okay? JJ :)” 

You stared at that yellow Post-it on top of the pile and the smiley face as if they committed a crime.  

“I don’t think you architects have any conception of math or physics,” you said, placing the papers on Jaehyun's desk maybe a bit too harshly. 

The man looked down at them with open palms then he prepared his cocky smile before lifting his eyes to look at you. 

He took his time with that: starting from the waist, going up slowly, shamelessly going over your breasts and finally face. 

"Hi," he tilted his head to one side and rested two fingers on his cheek. 

You rolled your eyes. 

"That project is halfway fucked," you explained, indicating the papers with your chin. 

Jaehyun's expression changed to a fake frown, going as far as giving you a little pout. "Oh, we can't allow that. Projects deserve to be fucked until the end. Just like yo-" 

You interrupted. "I swear if you continue that phrase, Jeong-" 

"Then what?" he interrupted you as well.

His eyes were dark. Eyelids low. But they were sparkling. 

You wouldn’t get intimidated. "I'll get you fired,” you said.

He chuckled. “That’s not what you said last weekend.” 

That’s right. It was all your fault. You’ve been bearing the heaviness of that fault for a few days now, in silence, and Jaehyun was just trying to make it even more difficult.

You leaned down slowly, looking around with circumscription but none of his crazy architect colleagues were paying attention to you two. If usually they’d be drinking champagne at 11 am discussing a building that breaks every law of gravity, they were weirdly dead inside that day. The project was probably kicking their ass too. 

Jaehyun stared at your cleavage underneath the dangling necklace you had around your neck before looking back up into your furious eyes. 

“Only because we made the mistake of kissing while drunk that Friday night, it doesn’t mean you can be unprofessional. Do you understand me?” 

The man’s eyes flickered and his cocky expression didn’t leave his pretty features. But he nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.” 

You straightened your back and cleared your voice, ignoring how that reply made your stomach churn. You blamed it on rage. Hearing his deep voice so up close made you irrationally mad. 

“Look again at that proposal of yours and the adjustments I made. I can give you a physics crash course if you need it.” 

“Really? Would you?” 

“I was being sarcastic. Do you think engineers in this place have time to babysit you little artsy people?” 

“Maybe I can give you something back for the effort?” 

You scoffed and crossed your arms, expecting some usual Jeong Jaehyun bullshit, like ‘a kiss’, ‘a date’, ‘my cock’. But he stood up and pulled down his dress pants on the thighs before getting the papers you gave him back and stacking them well together. 

“Like some artistic eye since you clearly lack that,” he said. 

You felt your jaw tighten at the insinuation. 

He got closer, his lips almost touching your ear. “There’s no need to be rude to me only because you think I’m attractive,” he lowered his voice, the little smirk never leaving his face. “I can play this game too.” 

You opened your mouth to reply but the swoosh he created by walking away made your hair get into it. 

“Thank you for the review,” he added already a few meters away. 

────────────

“It’s a theme park.” 

You licked your lips with furrowed eyes, your tongue still faintly tasting the hair conditioner. The meeting of the day was to announce the new project the firm was about to take on. One of the many you've been going crazy over lately. Of course, you had to be the one to take notes that day. You enjoyed the fair share of responsibilities your company had, but sometimes you really missed having a little secretary to do the little jobs for you. 

You sighed as your nails tapping on the keyboards accompanied the voice of the speaker. 

“There will be a few main rides we’ll be responsible for. Our engineers are great and I have huge trust in you all. For this task, you’ll have to work with the architecture team though.” 

Your typing stopped. A few of your colleagues murmured. Engineers were usually complete individuals. They could build rides for a theme park themselves with no need from the weirdos of the other office. They usually needed the engineers, never the opposite. 

“I think we’re capable of working on this on our own, sir,” you said.

The man sighed as if he expected the resistance. 

“This is just to ensure the theme park will also be-” he hesitated, “pretty.” 

The murmurs got louder. 

“Sir, you’ve seen my portfolio,” someone argued. 

“I designed a theme park on my own for my final university project and last year I-” somebody else added. 

The man lifted his palms like a tired father. “I know, I know. And your work is ideal. It is, however, very boring. Ugly colours. Mechanical innovation, yes. Is it interesting to look at? No. You’ll work with the architects. Meeting closed.” 

────────────

Jaehyun didn’t have to ask anyone why you all were mad as fuck after exiting the meeting hall. The rumour of the firm taking onto the project of a theme park has been whispered around in the CEO’s office for a few days now and he was lucky to have a charming personality and become friends with him. From the look on your face, you didn’t know and Jaehyun would have wanted to stop you and ask if you also wanted a coffee, maybe clown you a bit, but he didn’t manage to. He brought the white cup to his lips instead and blew the steam, going back with his mind to the Friday night, when you were doing the same. 

────────────

Past, 2 weeks ago, the Kiss day

“Coffee so late at night?” Jaehyun asked, getting closer to the drinks table. You were resting your red-wrapped hips on it, looking bored. 

“I had too much to drink already. Trying to sober up,” you replied and your voice came so muffled that Jaehyun had to stop and look at your face. 

You weren’t bored. 

You were completely drunk. Absolutely shit-faced. 

That wasn’t the most surprising part though. Everyone was drunk at that office party. Jaehyun himself was feeling too lightheaded for his liking. It was something else. 

“Are you acting cute right now?” he asked with a mix of shock and amusement. 

Your lips were pouty on the brim of the cup you were holding. You shook your head. 

Then you tried to take another sip from the steamy coffee but your wavering hand missed your mouth and the dark liquid slowly descended from your chin towards your chest instead. 

“Shit,” you looked down at your dress.

“God, are you okay?” Jaehyun was quick to grab a napkin. “Did you burn yourself?” 

He took the cup from your hands and put it on the table behind you before gently tapping away at your neck. 

“No, it was just warm,” you assured him. “It’s very sticky though. Poured too much sugar. I’ll go wash up,” you announced and placed your palms on his chest to gently push him away from your path. Jaehyun watched your back as you tried to walk towards the corridor but the way you were dangling to one side and then the other in your high heels made his anxiety go through the roof. 

“Wait, I’ll help you,” he wrapped your shoulders with one arm. 

You hummed as if appreciative and Jaehyun blinked a few times, squinting then relaxing his eyes to try and read all the signboards and see where the hell the bathroom was on that floor. He was also almost shitfaced from the suspicious wine the office brought, but also, he forgot his glasses home that day. 

What a couple of losers you two were. 

“Listen, I think we need to go down a few floors. I have no idea where the hell the bathroom is here.” 

You hummed again and leaned with all of your weight against Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes were closed as if about to fall asleep. 

Jaehyun sighed, a little sarcastic “great” huffing from his chest. He let his arm fall from your shoulders to your waist for better support and he hit the lift button with his knuckles. It was fortunately already there and Jaehyun had to half drag you and half push you inside of it. For a moment he felt relieved, but then your weight pushed him against the wall and he had to wrap his arms around you again to not make you slide down. 

“Can you just hold yourself up for a second?” he felt irritated. 

But his expression relaxed as you lifted your face. Your half-closed eyes and open lips made him gulp.

“Can you smile for once? I really like your dimples,” you replied and poked one of his cheeks. 

Jaehyun was flabbergasted. The stuck-up, boring, and work-obsessed chief engineer was poking his cheek while her coffee-shined tits were pressed against his tie?  He felt like seeing you for the first time. 

“Ah, come on!” you added, grabbing his face with your hands and making him pout. “You never smile.” 

“I smile a lot, you just never look at me,” he tried to speak while your thumb was digging into his cheek. Unfortunately, he thought, but he kept that to himself. 

You tried to say something else but the ding of the elevator made Jaehyun look towards the opening doors towards a dark corridor. You turned his face towards you again and leaning in, you pressed a chaste kiss on his plump pink lips. 

Jaehyun���s eyes widened and although drunk, you looked surprised as well. “Shit, sorry,” you tried to take a step back but Jaehyun’s palms on your waist didn’t let you go. 

He slid one hand on your neck, right below the ear and pulled your face back to meet his lips again. You hummed, closing your eyes and firstly grabbed at his jacket before you finally decided to wrap his neck with your arms and abandon yourself in the kiss. Your lips tasted like sweet coffee and Jaehyun hoped it could sober him up as well because he felt suddenly very dizzy. And when you slid your tongue inside his mouth he almost moaned, letting his palms caress your spine before groping at your soft ass. Your body got even closer to his and he had to move just once to pin you against the elevator wall. You grunted and Jaehyun wondered if he pushed into you too harshly, but then you kissed him again as if you could not get enough and he relaxed, welcoming the leg you lifted on his hip. Your skin felt soft under his fingertips and it felt even softer under his lips as he started to kiss your jaw, going down your neck following the coffee trail and cleaning it up with his tongue until it reached the chest. Your eyes were closed and your hands in his hair were making his half-hard cock throb too much. With an enormous almost inhuman force he stopped, hands resting on both sides of your head, chest lifting and falling quickly. Your sensual gaze made him gulp and when you talked, he could barely hear it. 

“What?” 

“I said, what department are you from? Sales?” 

“I’m an architect. Jeong Jaehyun?” 

Your face fell so fast that Jaehyun had to take a small step back. 

“God,” you furrowed your eyebrows, “not an architect.” 

Jaehyun had to remain still for a few minutes after you left to process the whole situation. 

────────────

Past, Monday 1 after the Kiss

Monday morning came quicker than you expected and with it the memories of Jeong Jaehyun the architect’s tongue inside your mouth. The elevator you were taking was the same and with the corner of your eye, you could exactly pinpoint where he pushed you against the wall to give you the best make-out session of your whole life. You shuddered and looked away. You psyched yourself to forget everything the whole weekend, or at least, to stop worrying about it, but it was very hard when you knew you would end up seeing him at work. You tried to drink from the cup you were holding but the taste of coffee made your brain buzz with the memory of Jaehyun licking up the sweet and bitter liquid from the swell of your breasts as if he was doing it at that moment too. 

You really drunkenly kissed a coworker? An architect? Your university friends would probably laugh at you for the rest of their lives. 

You didn’t know much about him so you hoped that by not seeing him often every embarrassment would soon die out. 

But apparently, he knew a lot about you. 

The shoes you chose that day were flat and comfortable and you were quick to reach your desk and sit down, avoiding everyone that might have seen something. 

Clearing your throat you turned on your computer right before a shadow in the shape of a man could obscure the keyboard. 

You looked up and Jaehyun smiled politely, the head to the side like a little bird. 

“Good morning,” his voice was deep. 

You opened your mouth and you felt your glasses slide down your nose. “Good morning?” 

The man blinked at you for a moment as if waiting for something. “Well?” 

You slowly looked around, darting your gaze across the room to understand what the hell was going on. Was he there to talk about the kiss? Was he a little boy who thought you were dating? Did you promise something? Did you offend him and he was waiting for an apology?

“Do you need something?” you pushed your glasses back and gulped at his sudden chuckle. 

“Yes. The projects for today,” he replied with both hands politely extended towards you. 

“Huh?” 

You took in the view of the man talking to you. Wasn’t Jeong Jaehyun the architect dude with sick tongue skills, and that’s it? Why was he talking to you as if he knew you? 

Then you felt as if the gods themselves hit you in the back of your head. 

“You’re-” you covered your mouth with the fingers, “you’re Jisung?” 

The man’s smile disappeared to make space for confusion. He furrowed his eyebrows while thinking about what he could reply to that. 

“You do call me a different J name every time so, I guess that’s technically true for you.” 

You took off your glasses because you were afraid the sudden heat wave to your cheeks and chest could melt them off. 

“I thought you were-,” you started, “I thought you were some assistant. You’re the Architect team chief Jeong Jaehyun? The man that I kis-”, you stopped yourself. 

Jaehyun couldn’t conceal a sudden chuckle but you also saw the shadow of annoyance in his dark eyes. 

“You had no idea who I was all of this time we worked together? We talk all mornings and you hand me the projects.” 

You were too stunned to speak. 

“We’ve been doing this for months now,” he added. 

You felt your mouth dry. 

Jaehyun scoffed and placed his hands on your desk, leaning down as if having a secret to share. 

You gulped and looked around but no one paid you any mind. 

“You need Architects to make out with you for you to remember their name and face?” 

His whisper made your skin shiver and while you were previously looking at his eyes, you had to stare at his necktie instead after that phrase. 

“Why do you keep coming to my office? You have nothing else to do? Send some assistant over from now on,” you blabbed. 

Jaehyun straightened his back. 

“Okay.” 

You nodded as if you just somehow resolved that embarrassing issue. 

“You’ll come to my office starting tomorrow and hand me the projects instead.” 

“What?” your voice was louder than you expected and a few heads turned around. 

Jaehyun’s lips stretched in a lazy and cocky smile. “I’ll get them. For today,” he grabbed the pile of papers from your desk. “Thank you.” 

His back looked huge as he turned around and exited the office. 

────────────

Jaehyun was fuming. 

He threw the papers on his desk with such violence that two poor interns jumped in place with their little coffees. 

“Everything is under control. Go back to work and mind your business,” he barked at them. 

He forgot he styled his hair that morning and when he tried to pass one hand through the fringe his fingers got stuck in the wax. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he sat down and unbuttoned his sleeves instead, rolling them up. 

You really had no idea who he was. 

He was shocked, embarrassed, and so fucking offended. 

No, he felt humiliated. 

All of those mornings of him longing- no. He would not admit that to himself. All of those mornings of him working with you and you couldn’t even remember his name, let alone his face. 

Was everyone just a nameless and faceless pawn around you? He has never seen a more arrogant and rude person in his whole life. 

And the fact he was still burning with desire for such a conceited woman was driving him insane with rage. 

────────────

Your fingers were a bit trembling after Jaehyun left. That was possibly the most embarrassing experience of your entire existence. 

You rested your forehead on your palms and waited for a few minutes to see if you could get your shit together and start working. 

And you kissed. For fuck’s sake. 

The mewl that escaped your lips caught the attention of some fellow engineers who were kind enough to stop and ask if you had some sort of stomach ache. 

You lifted your head to look at them in the eyes and you realized you had no idea who these people were. 

Your parents have always told you to stop overworking yourself and start having a bit of fun too, especially in school. It shouldn’t have been such a huge issue, but realizing you made zero close friends or even acquaintances because you’ve been staring at your desk and computer for all of that time was a shocking realization. 

You cleared your throat and gave your coworkers the kindest smile you could pull off. 

“I am fine. Thank you very much.” 

The people whispered something between themselves and walked away with awkward nods. 

“She’s definitely sick. She smiled.” 

“You know when people are about to die and they change personality all of a sudden?”

“She never looked me in the eyes before. I felt like getting turned to stone after seeing Medusa.” 

You felt your glasses slide down your nose again at the gossip and you exhaled deeply. 

Jeong Jaehyun - and his tongue - made you realize people considered you the worst bitch in the universe. 

────────────

The HR secretary furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What do you mean, all profiles?” 

You were tapping your thigh with one fingertip in front of his desk. 

“I need all profiles of all workers in the company to choose the- uh- the best team for this huge important project, yeah.”

The young man wasn’t impressed but he wasn’t going to deny the desires of the notorious Chief Engineer. 

“I will send you the credentials to access the files, ma’am. Anything else I can do for you?” 

“Thank you. That’s all,” you gave him a small nod and turned around. “Actually,” you stopped in place and hesitated. “I know this is not your job but could you talk to someone and bring coffee to the Architets’ office?” 

The secretary blinked. “Coffee, ma’am?” 

You gulped down the irritation. “Yes, please. Don’t say it’s from me. Please.” 

────────────

“This coffee is a gift from Chief Engineer Y/N,” the HR secretary announced as he accompanied the interns carrying a tray. 

Jaehyun was groaning and extending his arms above his head when he suddenly heard the commotion. 

“I think she’s punishing us for something we did,” one person said, grabbing a cup of coffee and looking at it suspiciously. “This is also so expensive.”

“Well, even if she spit in it, I will drink it, you know what I mean,” another winked and got shoulder hit by his cackling friends. “What? She’s scary but she’s hot.” 

“She’d probably bite your dick off.”

Jaehyun got closer and stared down the iron tray. 

“You said Y/N sent this?” he asked the secretary who seemed just as baffled, Jaehyun realized. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Did she say why?” Jaehyun grabbed a cup and smelled it. Normal coffee. 

“No clue sir. She instructed me to not tell you she sent it but-,” he interrupted himself and got closer. Jaehyun leaned towards him to hear. “-we need to track who’s giving what food to whom, you know. It’s right for you to know if perhaps something bad happens to all of you.” 

Jaehyun winced. The jokes about you being evil were funny only when he made them. 

“You don’t think she would actually do something to this coffee, right?” Jaehyun asked. 

The secretary straightened his back and although Jaehyun had no idea what expression he had on, the other man felt somehow intimidated because he stuttered a tiny “no, sir.” 

“Good. Why did she ask you to do this?” 

“Oh that, she came over to ask the profiles of all the people working at our company.” 

Jaehyun’s head was hurting. You were so convoluted. 

“Why?” 

“No clue, sir. She said something about making up a team.” 

You had no business reading the info of all of your coworkers for that. The idea of you wanting to learn more about him after the terrible interaction you had that morning made him roll his eyes in annoyance at how good it felt for a second. 

────────────

You felt like a thief although you got the info of everyone legally. You cleared your throat and started to scroll through all the profiles, mildly interested. You opened the first one and tried to read but then you puffed your cheeks and closed it. 

The J was in the middle and you pretended to have accidentally stumbled upon Jeong Jaehyun’s profile instead. 

Alright alright, you yelled at yourself in your mind. You were interested. God, his kiss was so good and his face, wow. You couldn’t forgive yourself for not looking at him once in all of those months. 

And you’ve been so rude to him. You shivered. 

Jeong Jaehyun 14 February 1997. 

You rolled your eyes. That birthday must have been made up. It’s impossible for a man like him to be a Valentine Boy. 

You tried to remember what you knew about Aquarius but your astrology knowledge was too limited so you hoped that would be compatible with your sign. 

Pause no. Why were you thinking about astrology compatibility? Maybe you were actually dying?

Tsk, graduated cum laude, the rascal. He wasn’t just pretty but also smart. 

Your eyes slowly darted across the page, eating up all the info the company could legally allow you to read and you had to admit that his projects had been insane even before coming to your company. 

And the ones he had under his belt afterwards? Well, they were all projects you also worked on. You felt sick. 

Were you really such a bad person?  

You sighed and closed his profile, starting to read the others. 

────────────

Jaehyun’s day has never felt longer. He thought he should probably go to the gym because the pain in his back was only getting worse and he should probably extend those muscles somehow. 

His brain was going over the menu for the dinner as well when he heard your voice in the main hall. He exited the lift and saw your smiling face greeting some of your fellow engineer colleagues. 

“Good work today, Minnie.” 

Poor Minnie smiled back as if the queen herself greeted her and almost tripped against the poor man who got blinded by your sudden kindness. 

Jaehyun stopped in place and sighed, trying to suppress the cackle. 

“See you tomorrow, ma’am,” the man added. 

“Have a nice evening, Yeonjun.” 

Jaehyun lifted one eyebrow at Yeonjun’s glossy eyes and walked over. 

He saw you sigh and turn around right into his chest. 

“I see you’ve done your homework.” 

You gasped and took a step back to be able to see him in the face.

“Do you remember my name too?” Jaehyun added with a cocky smile and you exhaled, crossing your arms on your chest. 

“Of course, I do.” 

Jaehyun buttoned up his jacket with a smile. “Good. Don’t forget to come to my office with the projects tomorrow.” 

“Listen,” you stopped him as he tried to walk around you. “I am- sorry for what happened this morning. I am very embarrassed about it.” 

You couldn’t look him in the eyes and Jaehyun had to tighten his fist inside his pants pocket at how cute you looked. 

“But-” you lifted your gaze on him. It was piercing. “-you have no right to treat me like this.” 

“Like this how?” 

“You’re punishing me.” 

Jaehyun opened his mouth then closed it at the accusation. It was true but he didn’t like for you to know about it. 

“I am not.” 

“You are.” 

“Coming to my office and seeing my pretty face is a punishment in your opinion?”

You put your tongue in the cheek with a scoff. “This. You’re- so cocky. You’re annoying.” 

Jaehyun’s dimples made an appearance. “You think I’m annoying? You didn’t know who I was after months of working together. That’s annoying.” 

“I apologized.” 

“Very insincerely so.” 

“I learned everything about you.” 

“Stalker.” 

You scoffed again, putting your hands on your hips. His everlasting smile was driving you nuts. 

“Alright. See you tomorrow, then. In your office. I’ll gladly hand you your work as you clearly burn with desire for me to do.” 

────────────

Back to Present, 2 weeks after the Kiss

The following days rolled on fairly easily. The annoyance and anxiety about going to Jaehyun’s office died slowly as you realized you only had to walk over, say hi, and place papers on his desk. 

If he thought you were rude by not small talking it wasn’t worse than not remembering his name and face after months of working together. 

Everything went back to normal and you started to be also decently popular in your office. Shocker, but if the chief is in a good mood and treats everyone with kindness, everyone works more efficiently. That’s the only good thing Jaehyun brought into your life. 

Well, that was until that day and the stupid yellow Post-it sticker on your desk. 

“Can you kindly check these and confirm they’re okay? JJ :)”  was still in front of you on your desk after the meeting about the Theme Park. 

There’s no need to be rude to me only because you think I’m attractive, was also still rolling in your brain and you wanted to go back to his office and yell that he was not attractive at all. He was just an annoying prick who had the upper hand because you embarrassed yourself in front of him once. 

But there were limits to all and he was starting to be too much. 

────────────

Jaehyun expected an Engineers and Architects meeting to happen at a certain point but he didn’t expect for it to be only the two of you. 

“So, I guess you’ve heard but we’re tasked to work together on a theme park.” 

You were alone in the huge meeting hall, one in front of the other, the large shiny desk separating you. Jaehyun looked at your white button down snuggly covering your breasts and the tiny bit of lace adorning your bra pocking out made him swallow dryly for the fourth time in one minute. 

“Yes,” he simply said. You moved and the shirt covered the lace. He sighed. “We can finally have a pretty theme park.” 

You rolled your eyes and Jaehyun wondered if you’d roll them the same way while he’d pound you into the mattress. 

His crush on you has been annoying him for a while now, but the recent development and the fact you didn’t even know who he was for a long time while he was under the impression that you might fuck soon has been a very low blow to his self-esteem. 

Now, he was trying to fight the attraction so badly but his cock had a brain of his own apparently because even if he found you arrogant and annoying, he really liked the soft side you showed him multiple times and that turned him on too much to ignore. 

“Engineers also have taste.” 

“Well you kissed me so I guess you do have a bit of taste, I’ll give you that.” 

You let the pen go and crossed your arms on your chest. “Can’t you keep it in your pants for one second so we can discuss this like normal adult coworkers?” 

“It is in my pants.” 

“You’re being inappropriate.” 

“You brought up cock talk.” 

“You brought up kiss talk.” 

“You kissed me first.” 

Jaehyun smiled at the victory and you leaned back in the chair. 

“Can we please stop talking about that and pretend it never happened?” 

“Actually you owe me another apology.” 

You waited with a lifted eyebrow. 

“You basically said ew architects after kissing me that night.” 

You scoffed. “And I stand by that. I’m not apologizing. Are baby architect’s feelings hurt?” 

Jaehyun licked his lower lip in annoyance. “Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why do you hate architects so much?” 

“Why do you hate engineers?” you resorted. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“You do.” 

He lowered his voice. “I don’t. You want me to hate you, maybe.” 

“Why would I want that?” 

“That’s your homework for the day. Think about it.” 

“If you’re under the impression that I pretend to hate you because I secretly like you so I secretly would like for that to be the case from your part too, well, you’re wrong,” you smiled although you started to feel the muscles of your thighs shake ever so slightly under the desk. The building was almost empty and the lights were getting turned off one by one leaving you and Jaehyun alone in the huge room, faces illuminated by the blue screens of the computers and the constellation of lights of the skyline. 

“That’s a very convoluted thought. Of course, you don’t like me. You don’t even know me.” 

“You can stop rubbing that in. I know you now.” 

“Well, then it’s a matter of time before you start liking me.” 

“You’re so arrogant.” 

“I am arrogant?” 

“Well, I don’t have the presumption that everyone in the building is onto me.” 

“How do you even know I’m like that? You don’t know me.” 

“You walk around like you have a 9 inches cock.” 

Jaehyun widened his eyes for a second then leaned forward to laugh. His eyes closed and his perfect teeth shone on display. You realized he got whiskers when laughing hard. It pissed you off. 

“And if I do?” he tried. 

You scoffed with a smile. “That’s not human.” 

“9 is a lot, I’ll give you that, but it's not inhuman.”

“Well, I hope you don’t have 9 because I’d be worried about your lower back carrying that around.” 

“Holy shit, I do have back problems. You think it’s that?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Jeong Jaehyun. Please let’s get back to work.” 

Jaehyun stopped talking and you started to actually explain the new project. You both liked the little smile that remained on each other’s lips. 

────────────

Jaehyun was not at his desk that morning so you bit your lower lip, slowly putting down the files for the day. You had no reason to see each other or talk about anything else since both teams had to work on their share of tasks before meeting again but you just wanted to- you had no idea what.

You looked around and touched a few of his desk items before noticing his phone silently blowing up. You looked around the office to see if he was coming but he was nowhere to be seen. The walk around the desk felt natural but also stealthy and you hoped no one was looking at you. You sat in his chair and the jacket he kept on it smelled like him. 

You sighed. Ew men and their hot cologne, right? 

The phone’s screen had no time to turn off as text notifications rolled on the screen again and again underneath your gaze. You wondered if he was part of many active groupchats before realizing they were all private messages both from registered numbers and numbers with no name. 

You felt your throat itchy upon realizing they were mostly from women trying to chit-chat. You scoffed, staring the phone down. He was that popular huh? And he wasn’t replying to any of them? He was so arrogant-

“Fuck!” you whimpered, bringing one hand to the back of your neck and finding someone’s cold knuckles. “What do you think you’re-” you grabbed the hand and turned around. Jaehyun’s perfect eyebrow was lifted. 

“What are you doing at my desk?” he asked, interrupting your question. 

“I came to give you the files,” you stood up and looked at your hand still holding his fingers. You let them go in the same instant. 

He hummed and sat down before realizing you were still there. “Is there something I can do for you?” he turned towards you in his chair. 

You cleared your throat. “I need your phone number.” 

You had no idea why you said that but it was too late. You tried to maintain a neutral face.

Jaehyun’s expression didn’t tell you anything about what he thought. 

“You have it. It’s written on the file all workers have-” 

“Your personal cellphone number,” you interrupted him. 

The man’s eyes were piercing but you didn’t want to look away. Your brain was running quickly to make up some excuse about why you wanted it but he didn’t ask. 

He extended one arm to reach the pen holder and got one, clicking it. When he turned around he searched for your hand, the same holding his fingers before, and grabbed it gently, palm towards his face. 

“Why are your hands so cold?” you mumbled as he started to scribble on your skin. 

“Because my heart is warm,” he replied without missing a beat. “Also, I just washed them.” 

You rolled your eyes, watching him write his number slowly. His fingers were on your pulse and you hoped he could not feel how quick it was starting to get. Why was he writing on your hand instead of a piece of paper? And why didn’t you just take your hand away? Being around him made you feel and act stupid.

One strand of hair fell from his hairdo, obscuring his eyes from your gaze, but then he finished and looked up at you, the neck extended showing a single vein popping out from his tight collar. 

“There you go,” he added. 

You slid your hand from his hold and fought the urge to tighten it in a fist as if to hide something shameful. 

“Thank you,” you replied and exited the office. 

────────────

That night you were at your home desk, head in hands, trying to come up with a problem about the project you could text Jaehyun about. 

Everything could be an email and bothering coworkers outside of working hours was abhorrent, but he was Jaehyun and you didn’t care if he got mad at you. 

No. You wanted him to get mad at you. But why?

You couldn’t think of anything at all so you let your phone go and walked towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. 

Last time you got drunk you kissed him, you remembered. The glass was cold and the wine fresh and you tried to drown the memories of his lips on yours because they made you shiver in embarrassment. Or desire? 

Your growling stomach communicated the need for a snack too but the only thing you could think of making were chicken nuggets so you threw them on an oven tray and hoped for the best. 

When Jaehyun heard his phone ring he was about to jump on the bed, kicking his feet and giggling before realizing he was a grown man with cock and balls. 

“Hello?” he talked into it calmly, after clearing his voice. He knew you'd call after that awkward encounter in his office and he paced the apartment the whole evening.

“Hey,” your voice on the other line sounded muffled. “You answer surprisingly well for someone that gets calls and texts from women 24/7.” 

Jaehyun smiled and sat on the bed. “So this is what it was about, huh.” 

You didn’t reply for a moment and he desperately wanted to know what expression you had on. 

“I’m calling because of an issue with the project,” you mumbled after a bit. 

“Y/N,” Jaehyun called calmly. 

“Yes.”

“Are you drunk?” 

“I am not drunk. I am working right now!” 

“Every time you’re drunk you think of me?” 

“I said I am not drunk.” 

Jaehyun kept ignoring you. “Well, you can’t deny it’s a weird coincidence.” 

“Fuck-” you suddenly said and Jaehyun stopped talking. 

“Oh, shit-” you repeated and dropped your phone, probably on the ground. 

“Y/N, what’s happening?” 

Jaehyun could not make sense of any of the sounds on the other side but it didn’t seem anything good. 

“Y/N, everything is fine?” he spoke again but you probably couldn’t hear him. 

“My fucking nuggets-” he heard your whimper as if far away and the moment the smoke detector went off and you mumbled something about a fire extinguisher Jaehyun got his shoes and ran outside his apartment. 

────────────

Your voice got cut off as soon as you opened the door after the endless incessant doorbell rings from someone clearly very panicked. You opened and his arms were so strong that your breath went missing and you were forced to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck by the sheer force of his embrace. You’ve never seen him with soft unstyled hair and the worried expression underneath his fringe just made him even cuter. 

“You’re just-,” you heard Jaehyun’s deep voice on the crown of your head, “-so fucking stupid.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows but he went on. 

“So irresponsible. I am shocked at how you could have let your fucking oven burn when you have the brains to build a whole city.” 

“I was distracted,” you spoke softly into his shirt. It smelled like laundry detergent. His mix of insults and compliments weirdly made you giggle.

Jaehyun let you go and grabbed your face with both hands, finally looking at you frantically and squishing your cheeks. 

“I am okay,” you assured him. “Everything is under control.” 

The man sighed deeply as if slightly placated but the line between his eyebrows didn’t get smoothed out. And when he finally looked behind you and assessed the tragic situation of your burned-out oven covered in white foam he had to close his eyes for a moment to gather his shit. 

“It’s okay! It was an old oven anyway,” you turned around, trying to ignore that he was still holding your hand. 

“Your house could have burned down with you in it.”

“How do you even know where I live? And you called me the stalker?” you confronted him. 

“It’s written in your profile.” 

He let go of your hand and got closer to the kitchen, looking at the mess with hands on the hips like the embodiment of a dad. It made your guts tingle. 

“Sure. And you know all the addresses of all of your coworkers,” you followed him, resting your elbows on the island. 

“Of course, I don’t. I don’t like them. Stop talking nonsense and let’s clean this out.” 

You had no idea in what capacity you helped because at a certain point Jaehyun just gave you a glass of water and told you to sit down. 

You didn’t feel that well. 

Both because you were kinda tipsy and you went through all stages of grief putting out a fire, but also because he was there, and he said he liked you. Right? Jung Jaehyun said he liked you. 

And not only. 

"I know you're capable of dealing with this alone. You don't need my help but I'd like to help," he said as you tried to push him to the side and clean the mess yourself. No one talked like that before and a weird fuzzy sensation softened the muscles in your legs making you sit down. 

You sipped on the water without talking back, staring at the way his forearms were flexing while cleaning out your oven and the surroundings.

“No need to be meticulous. They’re coming tomorrow to change it anyway,” you tried, feeling awkward as no one did you any favours before. 

Jaehyun didn’t reply and you realized he looked very handsome when focused. Well, not that he was ugly when unfocused, but the way his jaw looked sharper and his gaze darker made you sigh and take another sip of water. 

“Is your hair bothering you? I can give you a headband,” you tried again. 

“You are bothering me.” 

You scoffed. “I am trying to be nice right now. Your hair is pretty long. Doesn’t it go in your eyes?” 

You were expecting some witty flirty reply back, along the lines of you pushing it back for him, but Jaehyun didn’t look in the mood. 

The truth was that you felt very embarrassed about the situation; as if you failed at something and Jaehyun was scolding you. That was new for you. 

“Fuck, this could have been a tragedy,” he mumbled, as if almost on cue. 

“I am sorry to have worried you.” 

Jaehyun stopped to look at you. “Why are you apologising to me? You’re the one surviving a fire.” 

“But I am okay. You seem much more shaken than me.” 

Jaehyun kept silent and when he stood up you realized he finished cleaning up the foam and the dark burning spots. You stared at the back of his head as he washed his hands in the sink. 

“Also thank you for being here,” you added. You didn’t know what else to do so you got up and walked towards him. Was a hug weird? Should you just shake his hand and call him a pal? 

His body stiffened a bit feeling your timid arms around his waist. “You’re still drunk?” he simply said, patting his hands dry with your kitchen towel.  You stopped and slid them away. 

“You said you like me,” you mumbled against his back. 

“Yep, still very drunk.” 

He grabbed your hands to be able to turn around and face you, resting his hips against the kitchen cabinet. 

“You said there were issues about the project when you called,” he added. 

You blinked at him. “You really want to talk about work right now?” 

Maybe he did. He was your coworker after all. And he certainly didn’t come over to “save” your sorry ass if you didn’t call him about it. 

Suddenly you felt very embarrassed. 

You kissed the man in an elevator after not even remembering his name and then asked for his number and now you wanted to make out with him in front of your destroyed oven? 

You gulped and took a small step back but your breath stopped as his hands holding yours grabbed your waist instead and didn’t let you move away too much. 

“I am buying some time,” he explained. 

Your voices got so low that you barely could hear him, but your gaze on his lips helped you understand what he was talking about. 

“Are you scared to kiss me again?” you asked. 

“Are you going to ask me to forget it happened Monday morning again?” 

His fingers were delicate on your skin for a moment you remembered you were wearing your pajamas. The thin top definitely didn’t hide anything from his gaze and the midriff being exposed to his knuckles made you shiver. 

“I won’t ask to do that if you don’t make it awkward.” 

“Fucking your coworker is always awkward.” 

You blinked at him as if suddenly realizing you were standing half naked between your hot coworker’s thighs (who was an architect!!) “I didn’t say I was planning to fuck. Just-uhm kiss.” 

Jaehyun smiled and your eyes darted to his dimples then back to the white flash of his teeth. 

“You think you’ll be able to stop after one single kiss?” 

You stepped back and crossed your arms on your chest to feign confidence but mostly to hide the tremor in your arms. "Try me."

Jaehyun took a moment to let his gaze slide on your features. “You get very cute when you’re drunk, you know that?” 

“Well, to quote someone, I guess the stick I have up my ass disappears.” 

“I can put it ba-”

You put your fingers on his lips. “You will not continue that disgusting phrase,” you warned. 

Jaehyun smiled wider and his lips rubbed on your skin. He kissed the spot then he kissed one of the fingertips. You inhaled, eyes trained on his gaze, unable to move away anymore as the room suddenly got sucked of any sound besides your own breath. 

He grabbed that hand and kissed your wrist, this time closing his eyes for a moment as if savouring it. You gulped. And when he locked eyes with you the shiver that went down your spine manifested in a little exhale. Jaehyun smiled again, a little curve on his plump lips you felt on the softness of your fingers. 

The kiss felt the same as the first one you exchanged in the elevator after he pulled you closer towards himself. But this time you took your sweet time, letting your palms feel his chest, the skin on his neck, the thick hair on his nape. He did the same, caressing your back with his knuckles, rubbing your thighs with his blunt nails, and grabbing your ass in your flimsy shorts. 

You whimpered in his mouth at the feeling and he hummed back, a low sound, almost a growl, your lips apart but tongues still swirling until you dove back in. 

“Can’t you be like this in the office too?” his murmur made your eyes open. He was licking his lips while his fingers intertwined with yours in a slow dance of pushing you back towards the couch. 

“You want me to get called by HR?” 

He flashed you a small chuckle. “That secretary is so scared of you by the way. He thought you poisoned the coffee.” 

The couch’s arm dug into your thighs and you sat on it, pulling Jaehyun closed by the waistband of his sweats. His eyelashes fluttered as you looked up at him, then again as you dragged your palm upwards underneath his shirt. 

“And you think I didn’t?” you tilted your head to the side. 

“I am still alive.” 

“Not for too long. I might suck the life out of you," you placed a single wet kiss on his hip bone making him hiss. “Take this off,” you tugged at the shirt. 

Jaehyun’s hum was low. “Shit. Ordering me around?”

You looked up. “Please take this off?” you changed your tone but you couldn’t hide the mockery. 

He exhaled amused and did it in a second, pulling it by the collar and throwing it on the ground. But you didn’t have time to do what you intended to because the torso you so desperately wanted to see disappeared from your sight - Jung Jaehyun Chief of the Architect Department fell on his knees, savouring the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 

You gasped at the sensation and the anticipation of what was actually going to happen made you suddenly dizzy. 

You wanted to grab his hair to support yourself, physically or morally, but his head jerked back and with the most angelic and devilish smile, he pushed you back on the couch. 

“You should be respectful,” you chuckled at the manhandling. "I'm a senior." 

Jaehyun grabbed your ankles with one hand as a reply while the other swiftly slid your garments off your body. “I will be respectful after I am done,” he murmured. “For now you will have to take the disrespect, I’m afraid.”

You tried to think of a witty phrase but your legs were being directed on his shoulders, his knees were on the carpet in front of you now and his voice came from between your thighs. Oh, and you were naked. 

Too much work for your brain. 

“Thought you were a gentleman.” You didn't like your shaky voice. You didn’t like any of this. Didn’t you make some kind of bet just moments before? You forgot anything you two said to each other already. 

“I am a gentleman who knows when to not be gentle.”

And you soon realized what that meant. 

You had no idea if other men's tongues have felt that velvety before or if you were just developing the fattest crush on Jeong Jaehyun the Architect as he was devouring you and making you biased. But fuck he knew how to eat pussy. And you made sure he knew that. 

Jaehyun hummed appreciatively at the praise, his deep eyes covered by his long eyelashes making you unable to look away. So you slid your hand in his luscious hair, pushing it away from his face and pulled a bit. His arms and back muscles flinched and he visibly enjoyed your breathy moans when he increased the pace of his tongue's movement. 

"Shit, Jaehyun-" you curled your toes against the smooth skin of his spine then gasped, feeling his long fingers rub your slick before swiftly sliding inside of you. It was wet and messy and loud and the moment he let go of your clit with a dirty plop to start kissing your stomach instead you knew that night wasn't going to end with just that. Should you stop him? Should you continue? Would you be okay tomorrow? 

"Where are you?" Jaehyun curled his fingers and you bit your lower lip. 

"I'm here," you replied against his wet lips, body rocking back and forth on the couch as he fingerfucked you, the veins popping on his bicep making you swallow dryly. 

"I need you to focus on me. What are you thinking about?" he leaned down to rub his nose against your ear before outlining it with his tongue. 

You shivered underneath him and your nails probably left some indents in his pristine skin. 

"About how much I want your cock inside of me," you exhaled. That was the truth. 

Jaehyun hummed deeply and his breath became more shallow. 

"And?" he kissed your neck slowly, so different from the pace of his wrist to make you dizzy. 

"And I'm thinking of the consequences," you curved your spine, raising the tone of your voice on the last syllables. "Fuck, Jeong, this is-"

"Yeah?" he came back to your mouth, letting you whimper your moans against his lips. "You want me to stop then? No orgasm, no consequences."

"If you stop-"

"Then what?" 

You shuddered, frantically palming his hard chest then going down to loosely grab his moving wrist. 

"Are you going to beg for it? I'm kinda curious to see you like that," he added. The roughness in his already deep voice sealed the deal and you couldn't do anything but let your head fall back and bite down a scream as you came around Jaehyun's fingers. It was too late. It was already too late the moment you pushed him against the damn elevator wall. 

He let you decide when he should stop moving his fingers and you felt yourself clench rhythmically around them as you desperately tried to calm down. His lips were on your throat and you realized that he was talking, murmuring something so sweetly that for a moment you wished for him to just hold you until you fell asleep. 

"Good girl," he placed a kiss on the tender skin, then on the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes to look at his gorgeous face. His cheeks and ears were dusty pink and it made your heart skip a beat. 

You pulled him down and kissed him again, slowly and deeply. Then he smiled, stopping your hand from reaching underneath his sweatpants. 

"Tonight is all about you," he whispered. 

You furrowed your eyebrows but the mind-blowing orgasm blew your mind so well that you had no reply. 

"Why?" Your voice was a quiet waver. 

"I don't want you to regret anything," he replied. "And I don't want you to think about the consequences." 

Somehow it made sense. Waking up tomorrow and realizing you let him fuck you with his tongue felt better than realizing he came down your throat. 

Were you really that proud? Maybe you did have a stick up your ass. 

"Don't argue with me," he gave you a crooked smile as he got up on his knees. 

"I'm not arguing with you."

"You have a specific look in your eyes when you're about to debate me." 

You crossed your arms on your chest mostly to cover up given the sudden disappearance of his body from on top of you. Then you sat up and closed your legs. 

"That's not true. You're making things up." 

Jaehyun collected his shirt with another smile and you stared at his long back and the way his sweatpants sat low on his hips. 

The fucking consequences. 

"I really need you though," you whispered. 

Jaehyun wore his top. "How do you want me?"

"Riding," you replied. 

He chuckled. "Of course you do. You can't possibly let an architect force you to your knees, can you?."

You curled your toes at his words. "No, sir." 

Yes, he fucking could. 

Jaehyun leaned down again to slide his hand on your jaw and almost kiss you. But he whispered instead. 

"I'll let you ride me if you keep calling me sir." 

────────────

You didn't notice when Jaehyun left your apartment that night. You thought that the way he took you to your bed bridal style and let you nuzzle into his chest would roam your brain the whole night and would prevent you from falling asleep yet you had the best night's sleep in months.

And you hated to admit it but waking up that morning you felt embarrassed out of your mind but you'd probably have crawled out of your skin if you actually fucked him until the end.

"Hope you got home well," you texted him. Maybe that was how adults did stuff. Maybe that’s what he wanted from you in the first place. Just fucking. Yet why was he so considerate? 

"Yes :)", he replied with his stupid smiley face a second after. Was he not busy? How did he even see your texts in the middle of the hundred he was getting? That made you almost kick your feet and you realized you were slowly descending into madness. 

"And I slept as well as you did after taking care of your gift," he added. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What gift?"

"My boner" 

You sighed so much that you thought you had turned into a horse. Then you had to pass one hand on your face as flashes of Jaehyun's hand fucking his cock while thinking of you entered your brain. 

"It was you who stopped me from taking care of it myself." He was driving you insane. Your coworker - an architect (!!!). 

"I wasn't blaming you :)" 

"You're a bit of a masochist"

"I'm everything when I'm with you" 

"Barf"

"Honestly I thought you wouldn't even want to talk to me today" 

"Well we both know that you have poor judgement" 

"Maybe I should have let you ride after all :)" 

"Okay byee I'm turning off my phone" 

"Or suck me well"

"I'm blocking this number" 

"Or let me blow your back" 

"Sending this to HR" 

"Andy, if you're reading this, the Chief Engineer let me fuck her with my tongue and she liked it"

────────────

Texting and fooling around was one thing, but seeing his polished figure while sober and in the middle of the workplace made you almost have a panic attack.

"Good morning," you trilled, hands already pushing the files on his desk. 

"Hey," he lifted his face and gave you a warm but professional smile. 

"See you around," you nodded once and turned towards the exit hoping not to hit the glass door with your face. 

He let you go.

Then you came back the day after. And again. And again. No further exchange. Give papers. Take papers. See his face. Lose your mind at night with your hand between your legs and his name on your lips.

Then your name, pronounced by those lips you’ve been staring at as he pretended to sleep the previous weekend, made you stop in place and close your eyes. You swallowed and got ready to turn around. 

He was already there, standing right behind you and you inhaled his cologne as you took a step back. 

His shirt was open enough for his collarbone to peek through and the way his half-exposed arms looked, crossed on his chest, made you almost angry. 

“Would you like to have lunch together?” he asked. 

You lifted your gaze to meet his eyes the looked around his figure. Jaehyun smiled, tilting his head to the side to get in the middle of your gaze. 

“Don’t look at them. Look at me,” he added. 

“It’s easy for rumours to start forming,” you murmured, imitating his pose. Your fingers grabbed your arms perhaps a bit too hard. 

“It’s just a normal lunch.” 

“I don’t do normal lunches. It would look weird.” 

“At least you’re self-aware.” 

You snorted and turned around. “The last floor is always empty,” you only said as you walked away. 

────────────

Jaehyun didn’t actually expect you to be there. Somehow he thought the way your voice would waver when he was around, or the way you melted under his touch back in your apartment, the noises that you made because of him, all because of him, was just some incredibly orchestrated big joke. You didn’t try to speak to him after that weekend and you didn’t linger around his desk anymore. Hell, you didn’t even text him. 

He had to do something or he would go insane. 

Yet you were in the last room of the upper floor, sitting down on the only couch inside of it, staring at your little plastic container with your lunch and waiting for him. 

You were adorable. 

He had to stop in place before entering to gather his shit. 

Then he knocked two times on the glass frosted door and your head snapped. Your eyes looked so pretty that he felt his fingertips tickle. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you replied. 

Jaehyun closed the door behind him and he could sense the way your spine tensioned. He wanted to pass his palm on it, he wanted you to curve it as he’d grab your neck to pull you up against his chest as he’d pound into you from behind again and again until you’d break. 

“What have you got?” he walked slowly and sat down. The couch was sturdy enough. He made a mental note. 

You looked down at your container as if seeing it for the first time. “Cold pasta. What about you?” 

Jaehyun licked his lips. There you were, looking at him as if hoping for him to devour you. 

"Don't look at me like that."

You closed your mouth. “Like what?” you smirked.

He exhaled. 

"Should I close my eyes then?" you giggled. 

Jaehyun opened his lips to breathe and your gaze fell on them.

"Do you know what would keep my eyes closed?" you asked with a lower voice.

The man's eyes darkened and a whiff of air dilated his nostrils as he leaned in and knocked the air out of your lungs. The kiss was rough and its rhythm erratic. His palms were on your jaw and cupping your head. Yours were on his chest, grabbing at his shirt. You had no idea where your food containers disappeared because suddenly your hands were full of him and your legs straddling his body as he plopped you on his lap. 

You opened your eyes a little when you felt him pull away to let you breathe, the air flowing between your lips still brushing against each other. You looked at them, they were flushed and plump and you desperately needed to taste them again. His gaze was on your eyes and his deep voice surprised you.

"You opened them again." His voice was so deep that you felt it vibrating in your chest. 

You met his eyes.

"I guess you'll have to keep kissing me, then."

His palms on your waist felt wide and so warm that when he slid them on your ass to pull you closer you felt like mewling. Close so close it was so close and you were at work. You were kissing at work. You were sitting on his lap, on his sexy black dress pants, fingers sliding in the slit of his shirt, feeling his chest, his neck, his jaw, his hair. Fuck. 

“We need to slow down,” you exhaled, pulling yourself away from him.

“Why? You’re afraid you’re going to cum too quickly?”

His arms wrapped around you even tighter and his amused and warm mouth attached to your throat instead. You felt your eyes roll back in your head as he nibbled on your skin, peppering wet kisses all over it. And when he scooted his hips forward, his palms on your ass pulling you closer until your chest hit his face, you inhaled feeling his hard cock underneath you. Jaehyun looked up, drinking in your reaction. 

“Show me how much you want this. Show me that you don’t care about the damn consequences.”

Like a spell, your hips started to move on their own, rubbing yourself on him. You were desperate, humping him like a mad woman and his choked moan as he let his head fall back on the couch, extending his throat, was the final thing about his maddening presence to fully break your mind.

"Does it feel good, sir?" you didn't hide the mockery in your tone, feeling your control sliding back in your hands. 

But then Jaehyun shattered it again.

"Ride me."

His eyes were two dark cuts under his scrunched eyebrows and his command made your whole center boil. You stopped your movements and you shuddered on top of him. 

His chest was expanding and shrinking under your palms and when you pushed into it to be able to stand his Adam apple shifted in his throat as he swallowed. 

"Undress me."

Your order made his tongue poke his inner cheek and you smirked, mirroring his expression.

Jaehyun sat closer to the edge of the couch to reach your body and your skin shivered with goosebumps the moment his long fingers unbuttoned your pants. His gaze never shifted away from your face and it made you boil with need. 

The fabric hit the floor and you scooted it to the side, the pant legs so wide your heels just passing through, leaving you and your naked and elongated legs for Jaehyun to touch with his wide palms. They were warm as they slid up your thighs, your breath hitching as you looked at his open lips, his own breath stuck in his lungs and released only when he pulled you towards him. 

You bit your lower lip, feeling his mouth on your stomach, and then you let your head fall back as his fingers trailed your sides, lifting your top until reaching your breasts. You lifted your arms and Jaehyun stood for a moment to help the fabric away from your limbs and before you could kiss him, he sat down, with your between his knees, and unclipped your bra. You gulped, helping yourself stand by placing your hands on his wide and firm shoulders. 

“This is so inappropriate,” you whispered, muffling a whine as Jaehyun kneaded your soft breasts, looking at the skin fill the gaps between his fingers. 

“Yeah? Is being naked like this in front of me making your sweet pussy achy and wet?” Jaehyun’s deep voice made your stomach shiver as he spoke on your skin, trailing open wet kisses down your navel.

You were about to reply, your hazy brain still able to formulate some snarky comment, but when his hands cupped your ass, and one slid to your thigh to lift it on his shoulder, your hearing flatlined. You felt your underwear being pushed to the side and his luscious tongue making you gasp. 

“Jaehyun-” you felt your legs suddenly wobbly and his grip on your body tightened, his mouth licking and sucking at your clit making you grab his perfectly coiffed hair and pull. 

His groan travelled inside of you and his blunt nails dug into your soft skin before he let you go, sporting shining lips and heavy breath. 

He didn’t speak, and he only grinned as he sat back on the couch, his arrogant face making you quiver almost as much as his tongue inside of you. He patted his lap. 

You scoffed trying to hide a laugh but before you could roll your eyes at him, his hands were on your waist, making you sit flush against him. 

“If you dare to roll your eyes at me, I’ll give you a real reason to do that,” he murmured against your lips. 

You kissed him, deeply and messily, grabbing the short hairs at his nape with one hands, and cupping his balls with the other, making him hiss. 

“Oh yeah?” you whispered back, massaging him through the tight dress pants he was wearing. 

His adam apple bobbed in his throat but his eyes shone with mischief. He nodded, not for one second intimidated. It infuriated you. 

So you undid his button and slid his zip down, feeling the wetness of his precum adorning his expensive boxers. 

“And yet, look who made a mess,” you cooed, sliding your hand underneath the elastic band and making him close his eyes and extend his neck back. 

“God,” he groaned. 

He was long and thick, his skin velvety and soft, hot with need. You jerked him with your hand slowly, swallowing at the thought of having him inside of you, splitting you apart. 

Maybe you made a sound, or maybe he saw your expression as you opened his eyes but he smiled faintly. 

“Come on, end this torture. You want me as badly as I want you, chief engineer,” he said. And you would have had another ounce of brat in you if only he didn’t say the following things. Just one word, and it made you dizzy with desire.

“Please,” he murmured. 

Your hand shook as you felt his bigger one on top of yours, directing his pretty cock towards your aching core. You let it go and Jaehyun aligned himself, lifting his gaze with a heavy breath to see your lustful expression as you sat on it slowly. 

You both exhaled, his deep growl and your higher pitched breathy sound, until you reached the base, his girth making you see stars. 

“Good girl, take it all,” he breathed out, letting you adjust. 

“Fuck, Jaehyun-” you gulped, feeling your skin hot, as you lifted yourself once before sinking deep down again. 

He hissed, “I know, baby, I know.”

The petname worked as a spell, throwing you into a fast haze, riding his cock as deep as you could. Jaehyun wrapped one arm around your waist, while the other hand raised to shove his fingers inside your mouth. 

“I’d love for the whole company to hear how good my cock makes you feel, pretty girl, but we don’t want a call from HR, do we?” 

You gagged on them at first, then sucked, trying to turn down the noises you didn’t even realize you were making. 

And when your movements became sloppy and you felt on the verge of losing your mind, Jaehyun’s hips snapped, thrusting up inside of you and making you fist his pristine shirt. 

“That’s it, baby, take it like a good girl.” 

You let go of Jaehyun’s fingers to whine, but then you choked again as his wet hand warmly grabbed your throat instead, making you steady yourself on his wrist instead. 

“Fuck, just like that,” he pulled your body even closer to himself, squeezing your breasts against his expensive wristwatch. It would probably leave a bruise and for some reason the thought of being marked by Jaehyun made you quiver on his cock so hard that with a few deep thrusts you came undone, shaking in his arms and calling his name again and again and again. 

Jaehyun’s warm breath tickled your face and his muscles were pumped with tension as he forced his hips to still, feeling your clenching walls tighten around him rhythmically. 

“Baby, I need to cum or I’ll pop a fucking vein,” he chuckled breathlessly, the hand previously on your throat cupping your face instead. 

“Then cum inside of me,” you replied, ears still ringing from the raging orgasm. 

Jaehyun groaned and snapped, drilling into you so fast that you didn’t have enough force to fully oxygenize your lungs, his arms tightly around your soft body and his face buried in the crook of your neck. 

The sounds were dirty, the tall windows of the small office were getting foggy, and you wondered how long you’ve been fucking like rabbits over your lunch break when Jaehyun’s hips stilled, lifted ever so slightly from the couch, deep inside of you, and you felt on the verge of another orgasm seeing him dig his fingers into your flesh. 

“Fuck-” he exhaled, and you bit your lower lip, whimpering as you felt his spurts of cum coating your insides. Then his hips moved again, prolonging his high as much as he could, the vein on his forehead showing you just how much blood was pumping inside of him. 

You’ve never felt like that and you’ve never seen him lose control just as much as you did. 

“Jaehyun- I think I’ll-” you pressed your palms into his hard chest and he rested back on the couch, looking at your with dark eyes and plump lips. 

“Give me another one, beautiful,” he murmured, his cock sliding out of your and his fingers collecting the cum before shoving it back inside. 

“Shit-” you closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you and your spine curved making you bite your lower lip until almost tasting blood when he added his other hand, rubbing your sensitive clit. 

“I can’t-” you mumbled, “I can’t- please-”

“Yes, baby, cum all over my hands,” he urged, his gaze never leaving your face as if bewitched. 

And you did. 

────────────

You were grateful for Jaehyun not abandoning you in the office’s bathroom alone to clean up the mess you asked for but the one he did. 

“You know I can technically use my cock to take the cum out,” he tried again outside the door. 

You rolled your eyes amused. “I said, no thanks, I got it.”

“The tip is anatomically made so that a man is able to take out the cum a previous man-” he started to ramble but his words were cut off when you opened the door. He blinked staring at you and you noticed his ears were a dusty pink. 

“Do you always share fizzy drinks bottle cups facts when embarrassed?” you finished adjusting your clothes. 

He cleared his voice. “Do you think there would be sex facts on the cups of fizzy drinks? Also, why would I be embarrassed?” 

You crossed your arms on your chest for a moment, taking him in. 

“Do you perhaps have a little crush on me, Jung Jaehyun?” 

He scoffed, putting his hands in his pockets. “No.” 

You expected him to say that but the sudden confidence threw you off. 

He leaned in. “It’s not a small crush. I thought it was obvious.” 

He then straightened his back and opened the office door. “Come on, chief, I think we might get a call from HR anyway because we had a 3 hour long lunch.” 

You shook your head, trying to conceal the little giggle your body apparently wanted to let out. 

“You have too much faith in your skills. We went at it for like 15 minutes at best.” 

Jaehyun stopped in place and turned around slowly. 

You stopped too. 

And when he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a good spank, the yell and laugh that escaped you was probably heard in the whole company. 

[swe3tte4rs]

Batifamily headcanons feeling jealous about their siblings spending more time with Batmom? Or something like that, however you like to write it 🙊

" Jealousy jealousy " - Batmom!Reader x Batkids

Author's note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR (late)!!! Love this 🫶. And I feel like this request is VERY my AU!!! Dah, who wouldn't compete for the love of their sweet and loving mother!? (The hatred between them began when Bruce had to set schedules for each one so they wouldn't fight for Batmom's attention... joke)

Also I am very sad, because when I was responding to this kind of request and I saved it as a draft, it was deleted 😭!!! CRYING 💔💔!!! On top of that, I loved the request, it was beautiful 😭! It was about Batmom as Bruce's couple and Bruce introduces Batmom to the batkids... And if it was you who sent it 🫵, let me tell you that I loved it and it will take me a while to upload it 💓!! Lov you all

And (I almost forgot to mention this), This AU of the batfamily is a mix of comics, series, headcanons (I LOVE headcanons of batfamily 💗), video games, movies and webtoon! + My main language is not English, so if you find any spelling mistakes, tell me in a comment!

Request opens 💗💗!!! BUT, before you request anything check my rules.

Dick Grayson / Nightwing

Honestly, I don't see him being jealous of his brothers at all! But since I haven't read all of his comics and in this AU he is a mix, I don't have an opinion. 👀

Let us begin.

I feel like Dick is a real mama's boy, he love his mom and he will prove it.

Dick is very used to having all of Batmom's attention to himself.

But he hides his jealousy very well, or so he thinks…

Jealousy began when Dick started having siblings. DON'T DENY ME GIRL 🤝🤝!!!

When he gets jealous that you spend more time with, I don't know, he'll go to sleep with you and Bruce, but leaving Bruce aside and enjoying your caresses in his hair while he listens to his siblings complain from outside the bedroom. (Bruce hate this, but I feel that at the same time he love it just a little bit. Very little.)

Possibly he will also rub things you did with him that you didn't do with your other children in his siblings' faces.

I think he is the only one (along with Jason) who has a complete album with photos of him as a child. So he'll show it off to others by saying that you loved him so much that you made an entire photo album of him.

He would do the same with Jason, telling him that his album has more photos and with more photos of you and Dick.

I feel like he would start a whole fight against one of his brothers just to carry all the shopping bags by himself so you don't do it. (This idea is similar to "Jason Todd is a total mama's boy" because I was inspired by it, so credit to its respective author 💓)

"Mommy, did you just call me Damian? Oh my god... my heart..." #atotaldramaqueenbaby💋💋👊👊

Jason Todd / Red Hood

Another drama queen...

A mama's boy from head to toe. (My poor baby just needed a fucking mother figure 😭💔)

He is first in everything. Do you need help opening a jar? He already opened it for you and said I love you and then left and returned to a mission.

But that's not what we're talking about right now... Nonono, we're talking about jealousy, guys...

I bet he's the most sensitive of all.

He makes sure you don't show favoritism to anyone, unless it's him, if so he lets it go.

Did you spend an extra minute with one of your other children because you didn't see the time? He is already burning in a pit of jealousy.

I feel like he would start fighting with his sibling and then he would apply the law of silence to you. But it doesn't last long because he can't resist your cute nicknames and your "you're my favorite" (you say that to each of your babies)

"Why do you call him "son"? He isn't even your son!" And he gives you a whole long speech when you were just trying to be nice to Roy.

He even gets jealous of Bruce.

He doesn't care if it's one of his sisters or a good friend of his, you can't call them cute nicknames! And even less if they are the ones you use with him!

He has good hearing, he makes sure that you call him by his nicknames and not by one of his siblings' nicknames.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MA?! Why are you washing Tim's hair with the shampoo you use with me!?!?" You broke him...

Tim Drake / Red Robin

( I haven't read almost anything by Tim, so forgive me if something doesn't add up, but I promise you that I already have more or less what his personality is like.)

Tim does not admit his jealousy, he is calmer compared to his brothers.

He might start scheduling his patrols to coincide with Batmom’s free time, ensuring that he gets to spend some time with her.

I feel like he would feel more insecurity than jealousy

But I also think he would try to take Batmom's attention away from his sibling by calling Batmom to help him do something he can easily do alone.

He wouldn't care if you treated his friends like your children. I think he would be happy.

Umh Well… I think there's not much to jealousy about this one...

Damian Wayne / Robin

Yes, I headcanon that Damian is one of the most jealous once he realizes that Batmom can give him the love that Talia didn't give him.

He is the same as Jason, he has the same percentage of jealousy.

The only thing is that he would start making arguments about why Batmom would have to spend the whole week with him and not with her brothers.

Oh, and he doesn't care what Bruce does with Batmom. Although he is disgusted by the slightest affection they have.

At galas, I feel like he would be glued to you, hugging your waist and making sure there is no threat.

If you're not patrolling, he'd be with you watching some movie. (I DON'T KNOW WHY I IMAGINED HIM WATCHING MEAN GIRLS)

"I say mom Is going to go with me first because I'm the best-" And then he was interrupted by his siblings.

There is a relationship of hate and equality between him and Jason…

"Don't you see that my mother has an engagement ring and I'm next to her, son of a- *you interrupt him*" I feel like he would say this to anyone who flirts with you.

He is not understanding why his siblings get to spend more time with her.

Mama's boy

I would continue writing, but I have no more inspiration and ideas, sorry...

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

WHY DID SHE PUT THAT NAME BRO???

Cassandra, being the quiet and observant one, might internalize her feelings of jealousy.

Cass is the last one to get jealous, honestly.

She understands that Batmom loves them all equally and there is no favoritism.

Although sometimes she doubts…

She would feel excluded every time she sees you spend more time with one of her siblings.

But putting that behind, she would know that you love them all equally and would let it go by speaking with you how she feels.

0,1% jealous.

Stephanie Brown / Spoiler

Depends…

I think she would feel jealous if Batmom shows favoritism towards others.

In itself, I don't think Steph is VERY jealous. Just... a little bit.

Duke Thomas / The Signal

I need to read more about this man 😭

He's the newest one in the batfam, but he was still able to connect with Batmom very well.

Duke is not one to be jealous, he just doesn't care what batmom does.

Although he is a similar case to Cass.

He would feel a little "insecure" seeing the ties Batmom has with his siblings.

But it always ends well with Batmom watching a movie with him.

[You can put more headcanons in a comment if you like!! And suggestions are always welcome <3]

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 8

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7

“I can’t believe you let me fall asleep!” Chrissy complains, crowding into Steve’s space to desperately try to fix her hair in the mirror.

Steve snorts, unbelievably fond at the way her bangs are going every direction but down. “What am I, your mother?” he asks, fixing his own hair by standing on his tippy toes and looking over her head.

“No, but she will be killing me for this!” Chrissy cries, finally giving up on finger-combing her bangs to dunk the strands into the sink and get them wet. “Thanks for reminding me!”

“You’re bitchy in the morning,” he mutters, grimacing when she pulls her head out of the sink abruptly enough that water droplets fling from her head and onto his shirt. “Now, hurry up, we’re already late.”

She flips him off, ignoring him entirely to continue fixing her hair.

They’re both late; Chrissy doesn’t let him forget it for the rest of the day, as if it’s his fault.

“I remember when I thought you were nice,” Steve mutters, laughing helplessly when she elbows him in the side.

“You love it,” she says, smiling as they sit across from each other in their usual spot in the library, feet settling together beneath the table.

The thing is, he does. He’s always liked Chrissy, even back when she was all sunshine and rainbows, but even more so now that there’s some grit to her.

“Shut up.”

Chrissy beams, all sunshine again as she plunks her stack of books onto the table and shuffles her letter-drafting notebook to the top. Only once she’s opened to a blank page does she bite her lip, looking up at Steve through her lashes.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” she asks, voice hesitant.

“What do you mean?”

She breaks eye contact, fiddling with her pen anxiously. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Steve doesn’t tell her that he already is, that a part of him, the small, squirming part he keeps hidden in his heart, wishes he’d never done this. That watching Eddie kiss Chrissy’s hand and knowing without being told that she’s the kind of girl Eddie might want had broken something inside him. That Steve knows he could never be Eddie’s choice, and knowing that burns.

But, since the flirting started, Steve hasn’t written a word, and that’s worse, somehow. He only has the one tether to Eddie, and he wants to keep it, even if it’s through Chrissy’s handwriting, and Chrissy’s words, and Chrissy’s face.

He just wants.

Instead of saying all that, he reaches out, putting his hand gently on Chrissy’s hand and replies, “I’m sure,” even as the fluttering of his heart makes a liar of him.

Chrissy’s still biting her lip, not looking reassured at all. Steve’s gut churns with worry. ”Are you, though? You didn’t sign up for this, and if you don’t want to do it anymore, that’s okay.”

She smiles, her bottom lip blanched white from her teeth, as she replies, “We’re in this together, right?”

Even with the smile, she still looks worried, but Chissy puts her pen to paper and dutifully writes out the words Steve speaks, editing and revising each thought until it’s something someone might want to hear.

They keep their voices quiet because there are more people sitting in the library than usual today: a big group working on a project, a couple of freshman scowling down at what looks like a Geometry textbook, and closest of all, a girl he recognizes as a band nerd, flipping through a magazine too fast to really be reading it.

It doesn’t take them long—they’ve done this enough times that it’s become almost an art form. Chrissy pushes the completed letter across the table for his final review before it’s signed and sealed.

“It’s good,” Steve says, pushing the letter back across to her to be dropped off in Eddie’s locker.

His heart aches; Steve wants to slap himself.

Instead, he parts ways with Chrissy at their cars, Jeff already waiting beside hers to be driven home, and goes back to his house, bereft of the noise Chrissy had brought only that morning.

*** 

Eddie had worried when there wasn’t another letter after he’d started talking to Chrissy. Did she not like him anymore? Was she done writing them entirely now that she can talk to him face to face?

He worries incessantly for days about it, even as Chrissy keeps saying hi to him in the halls, keeps smiling back when they catch eyes across the cafeteria, keeps being her usual, friendly self.

It’s just, the letters are different. They’re more raw, somehow, more real. And, no matter how this thing goes with Chrissy, if they stop coming, he’ll miss them.

So, it’s a relief when he opens his locker the Monday after Chrissy’s eventful Hellfire induction to find a letter. He can’t wait to read it, the anticipation has built up over too many days of not receiving any. So, he rushes to the same, familiar bathroom and opens it in the stall he’s starting to think of as his.

       Eddie —

       How did your show go? I bet you’ve got a couple groupies already, you’ve already got the look for it. Did you figure out the riff for the song you were working on?

       I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty, but it’s like riding a bike, you know? (Do you know how to ride a bike?) It’s nice, playing music, even if it’s all songs someone else has written, and they’re still not coming out right.

       I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter. I just didn’t know what to say. You’re so patient, and nice, and I got caught up in my head you know? But I missed you.

       I slept with your letter beneath my pillow last night, hoping for dreams of you.

       Yours, Always

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. I haven’t read it, but maybe I will. Just to keep with the theme, put this letter in The Lord of the Rings.

He devours the words, slumping onto the toilet seat the longer he reads. It’s perfect—just what he was missing. He reads it once, twice, thrice, the same way he had when he’d received the first two, disbelieving that such lovely words were meant for him.

Eddie skips his second period, first already long gone by the time he’d trundled into the school’s parking lot, and pens a response, then and there.

He goes to the library immediately, nervous that if he doesn’t drop it off right away, she’ll assume Eddie isn’t going to write back at all. 

He waffles over which book to put it in before finally tucking it into The Fellowship of the ring–it’s the first in the trilogy, and Chrissy’s probably too cool to even know it’s a trilogy. 

There’s no response in his locker before Hellfire on Thursday, but that’s okay because true to her word, Chrissy shows up again. She’s smiling as she bounces through the doorway, all springy curls and happy cheer.

“Hi!” Chrissy says, waving as she beams her blinding smile around the room,  all that cheerleader enthusiasm on display.

Doug looks struck dumb, staring at her with his mouth open. Gareth’s gaze is darting back and forth from the door to Eddie, eyes growing wider and wider with each pass. Only Jeff smiles and waves back.

“I hope we’re not intruding,” Chrissy says, elbowing Harrington in the side until he finally looks up and gives his own half-hearted wave.

Because Harrington is slumped in the doorway behind her, looking like he’s trying to hide the entire bulk of his body behind Chrissy’s petite frame.

“Uh, hey,” he says, ears strangely pink as his eyes dart around the room.

He never looks Eddie’s way at all.

“Hey, man,” Jeff replies, the only person aside from Chrissy that is currently functioning.

“Steve, can come, right?” Chrissy asks, like he’s not already in the doorway behind her.

Eddie’s gut sinks then swoops. Harrington’s a jock—what will he do locked in a room with a bunch of nerds? But, the chipped nail polish.

Eddie’s mind is full of screaming, thoughts flip flopping over each other as he tries to articulate all the things wrong with Harrington coming to Hellfire, but all that comes out of his mouth is a chipper, “sure!”

Chrissy’s smile grows teeth—is she going to bite him?

Eddie resists the urge to take a step back.

Jeff pulls out the vacant seat beside him, still looking cool as a cucumber while the rest of them scramble. “Come sit down.”

And that’s how he finds himself with a jock in Hellfire. Should they call an exterminator?

It’s Chrissy who takes the seat beside Jeff which leaves the only other empty chair next to Eddie’s throne. Eddie glares at Gareth, gesturing wildly for his friend to move up a seat, but Gareth’s too busy staring at Harrington like he’s a cobra about to strike.

Harrington is looking at the only empty seat with the exact same expression.

“Steve,” Chrissy hisses, and Harrington jumps. “Go sit down.

The pink on his ears travels down to his cheeks—it’s unfair, really, how pretty and even his blush is. When Eddie blushes, he blotches bright red from forehead to chest.

Steve’s embarrassment suits him.

Eddie waits until he’s seated before clapping loud enough that everyone startles as they turn to him. “Now!” he starts in the grand voice he uses when he’s performing his Dungeon Master duties. “Are you two playing?”

“No,” Harrington rushes out, the pink of his blush deepening to a red as he finally meets Eddie’s eyes. “I mean, Chrissy said she just watched last time?”

“We didn’t want to slow you down,” Chrissy cuts in.

Eddie nods, looking between the couple as awkwardness stews in the stilted silence.

“Alright,” he replies. “Gird your loins, lords and lady.”

Knowing a cue when they hear one, the Hellfire boys scramble to pull out character sheets and dice.

And they’re off!

It takes a minute to fall into the familiar minutiae of telling a story with not one but two interlopers, but Eddie manages it. This is where he thrives: a captive audience and all the power to fuck with them in the palm of his hand.

He only stumbles once, words jumbling together when he looks up and catches Harrington staring at him, eyes wide, cheeks still flushed from his earlier embarrassment as he bites his lip, ass literally on the edge of his seat as Eddie cobbles together the climactic finish to their latest encounter.

Harrington looks away quickly, but Eddie knows what he saw: Harrington is into this nerd shit. He’d tease him if he wasn’t worried that it would end in a swirlie.

Still, Eddie can feel his head puffing up like an overfilled balloon. He’s on the top of his game, painting grand adventures with grander words, all gestures and enthusiasm. He feels electric, the way he always does when there’s a new sheep in his flock to impress. His skin’s almost buzzing with it.

After all, even if his audience member is a jock, Eddie’s always been great at putting on a show. 

Neither of the interlopers say anything until they’re busy packing up. Eddie lounges back in his throne, watching Chrissy help Jeff with his dice. She’s smiling up at him, clearly just as interested in their nerd shit as Harrington.

Eddie turns his eyes back to Harrington to see how he’s taking his girl talking to a guy that isn’t him only to find Harrington staring at him again.  When Eddie meets his eyes, he ducks his head, cheeks tinting that familiar pink.

Is Steve Harrington fucking awkward?

“You’re good at that,” Harrington says quietly.

Eddie hums, confused. He’s shuffling his papers back together, not looking down at what he’s doing. What’s happening in front of him is far more interesting.

“At what, big boy?”

“Uh,” Harrington starts, darting his eyes back up to Eddie’s for a second before looking back down at his fiddling hands. “Telling a story.”

Eddie smiles, something warm and amorphous filling his stomach. “Thanks,” he says, lightly kicking Harrington’s ankle.

Harrington twitches, lets out a quick, “mmhmm,” and then turns away from Eddie to go find his girlfriend, dismissing Eddie without another word.

“Ready to go, babe?” Steve asks, settling his arm around her waist and damn-near frog marching her out of the room.

“Bye, Jeff! Bye, Eddie!” Chrissy calls, still cheerful even as her boyfriend controls her every move. Maybe she’s used to it—first Carver and now Harrington. “See you next week?”

Neither of them wait for a reply.

The silence is stifling in their wake. Only Jeff seems unbothered as he stuffs all of his supplies into his backpack. Doug hasn’t even touched his dice.

“What the hell was that?” Gareth asks, whipping around to Eddie.

“How the hell should I know?”

Jeff snorts. “You invited them,” he says.

“I invited Chrissy,” Eddie whines. “She invited Harrington.”

That catches Jeff’s attention. He glares at Eddie like he’s the one that had invaded their sacred space. “You’re not this stupid,” he says, swinging his backpack onto his back and striding toward the door. “I’ve got a ride home, don’t wait for me.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie demands.

The only answer is the door swinging shut.

*** 

Once he’s walked Chrissy to her car and watched her pull out of the parking lot safe from Carver’s creepy hands, Steve collapses into his own car. He presses his face into the steering wheel and groans, long and loud, assured in his safe isolation. 

When the passenger door opens, he jumps, neck cracking with the speed at which he turns his head, ready to fight off the trespasser.

“Oh, it’s you,” Steve says, dropping his head back to the steering wheel.

“He knows,” Jeff says, voice serious enough that Steve raises his head back up immediately, heartbeat ratcheting up.

It takes a second for the words to connect, and when they do, his heartbeat quickens further, sweat pooling on the back of his neck, hands clenched hard enough on the steering wheel to hurt as fight or flight hits him.

“What?” he asks, the word cracking around his suddenly parched throat.

“Shit,” Jeff mutters, reaching out to pat Steve’s shoulder. “Not about you!”

Steve’s shoulders slump, breath shuddering out of him as Jeff continues to pat his shoulder, too awkward to be all that comforting. “Then, what—”

“He knows Chrissy is putting the notes in his locker.”

Steve sighs, slumping into his seat, uncaring of the way it crushes Jeff’s hand against the backrest. “Yeah, we figured,” he says, suddenly exhausted. “Do you know how?”

Jeff’s biting his lip when Steve looks his way. “He didn’t tell me,” he mutters. “But I know my best friend.”

It’s Steve’s turn to reach across the car and clasp Jeff’s shoulder. “I’m sure he has a reason for not telling you,” Steve replies, trying to smile past all that exhaustion.

Jeff snorts. “A stupid one, maybe.”

Steve hums, squeezing once more before dropping his hold on Jeff, suddenly realizing how stupid they must look, leaning toward each other, hands on each other’s shoulders like they’re having some sort of bro moment.

Steve turns back to the front of his car, cranks the engine, and smiles across at Jeff as the other boy takes the hint and drops his own hold. “Want a ride home?”

Instead of answering, Jeff puts on his seatbelt.

Jeff’s house is surprisingly close to Steve’s own. It’s a bit smaller than his, but there’s already a car in the driveway, and the shadows of silhouettes moving behind the pulled curtains, warm yellow light filtering through the fabric and onto the street.

Steve wishes he could go in with a fierce sort of longing that surprises him.

Jeff’s already got his seatbelt off and the passenger door open when he sighs, turning back around and settling back in his seat.

“You should come next week,” he says, all earnest in that way that seems to come so naturally to him and must have gotten him eaten alive in middle school.

“You can’t be serious,” Steve replies. There’s a tension headache growing, exasperated by the incredulous scrunching of his eyebrows. “That was a disaster.”

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad,” Jeff says, but he’s grinning like he’s remembering something funny. Steve’s got a few guesses what.

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious, man.” Jeff clasps his shoulder again—maybe that’s just something he does?

Steve scoffs, the roll of his eyes making his head pound. He opens his mouth to retort, something about Eddie’s reaction to Steve sitting beside him, but Jeff beats him to the punch.

“I know Eddie. And that in there?” He points back the way they’d come, like if Steve just strains his eyes, he’ll be able to catch sight of Eddie’s stupid fancy chair, and the stupid musty drama room, and the stupid look on Eddie’s face. “—is him interested.”

Steve closes his mouth, swallowing all the spit in his mouth, hoping it’s not audible to Jeff no matter how quiet the car is. “In me?” he asks, voice cracking embarrassingly.

Jeff doesn’t break eye contact, but his mouth twists uncomfortably. “Like you’re interested in him?” Jeff asks, continuing before Steve can reply. “I don’t know, man.”

Steve droops, the hope blooming in his chest curdling and sinking down into his stomach like old milk. He wants, desperately, to go home, turn out all the lights, and curl up alone in his bed to sleep away the rest of the day. But, Jeff’s still in his car, so he clenches the wheel between his fingers and says, “okay.”

“But, he doesn’t get you,” Jeff continues, voice gentling further. “And that intrigues him.”

Jeff’s still smiling like that should be some sort of boon to Steve’s ego, but it’s not. It lands like a brick. No one ever gets him, and whether he intrigues them or not, it always ends the same: him, alone in his big, empty house, waiting for a phone call that will never come, a doorbell that will never ring, a window that will never be snuck through.

He’d been through it before, with Donna in sixth grade, Nancy in tenth, hell, even Carol and Tommy for more years than he can count.

Intrigue has never gotten him anywhere. But, Jeff’s smiling, small and real, so Steve replies, “thanks, man,” smiling back until the other boy gets out of the car and he can safely drive away.

He’s got a dark house and a chilled bed waiting for him.

For the first time since this whole thing started, Steve writes the first draft of one of his secret admirer letters alone.

PART 9

[elikajinnie]

Hiii I love your fanfics!!😭🩷

Can u write something on sunoo like horror au or thriller au?

Fallen Angel - K.S

THANK YOUUUU!!<333 Omg i have so many horror au drafts right now. It`s really giving me motivation.

P: Devil!Sunoo X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Blood/Injury, Rituals & Cult-like Activity, Obsessive Love, Body Worship, Murder, Corruption, Falling In Love, Stalking?

Synopsis: A seemingly innocent walk through the forest turns into a chilling nightmare, and your soul becomes the ultimate prize for the devil himself. With a captivating presence and an insatiable desire for you, he reveals that your fate is now intertwined with his. And he will keep you by his side.

a/n: I am a sucker for paranormal movies :p the start is inspired by Jennifer`s body :) HAPPY HELL WEEK!! (iykyk)

"The Devil is real and he's not some little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful because he's a fallen angel and he used to be God's favourite."

ـــــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

You come downstairs after slipping into more comfortable clothes, ready for a walk. The house is quiet, your steps light on the wooden floor as you head toward the door. Living on the outskirts of town has its perks, and your favorite one is the forest. It's a place of solace, a space where you can let your thoughts wander freely as you walk beneath the trees.

You pull on your shoes, grab your jacket from the hook by the door, and fish your phone out of your pocket. A playlist hums to life in your ears, setting the mood. With your keys in hand, you lock the door behind you, the soft click signaling the start of your escape into the wild.

The gravel crunches beneath your feet, the small stones and twigs snapping with every step. There’s something rhythmic in the way the sound mixes with the music, creating its own sort of tune. You follow the familiar path, the forest looming ahead, inviting you in. As the trees grow taller around you, the ground changes, becoming softer, more forgiving underfoot. The scent of pine and earth fills the air, fresh and damp. Sunlight filters through in thin beams, casting long, golden shadows on the forest floor.

Your breathing syncs with the rhythm of your steps, steady and calm. The music playing in your ears becomes a backdrop to the symphony of nature—birds chirping somewhere above, the distant rustle of small animals moving through the underbrush. You can feel the world quieting around you, like the forest itself is protecting you from the noise and chaos of everyday life.

The deeper you go, the more peaceful it becomes. The path you walk is familiar, worn by countless footsteps over the years, but every time it feels new, like the forest shifts and breathes with the seasons. You pause for a moment, standing still, letting the quiet wash over you. There’s a comfort in this silence, a stillness that fills you.

But as you take a breath, something in the air changes. It’s subtle at first—like the shift in a breeze before a storm. The trees, once inviting, now seem to lean in closer. The shadows deepen, stretching out in unfamiliar shapes. The music in your ears feels distant now, as if it’s being drowned out by the weight of the silence.

Your steps slow, and the crackle of a twig behind you makes you stop altogether. You turn, scanning the trees, expecting to see nothing but the familiar outline of trunks and branches. But for a moment, just a brief flicker, you think you see movement—something or someone slipping between the trees, too fast to catch.

The forest, once a place of peace, now feels different.

Your heart quickens, instinctively telling you something is wrong. The peaceful stillness of the forest now feels like a trap. Slowly, you turn around, careful not to make any sudden movements, your instincts screaming at you to leave. The music in your ears lowers into the background, drowned out by the rushing pulse of your own heartbeat. You try to stay calm, taking slow steps back in the direction of home, eyes scanning the forest around you.

But the feeling doesn’t go away. Every shadow seems to shift, every tree leaning just a little too close. The forest, once familiar, now feels foreign, hostile even. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and your steps quicken. You need to get out of here.

Just as you pick up the pace, something moves at the corner of your vision. You freeze. Slowly, you glance around, and that’s when you see them—figures, barely visible at first, blending into the dark shadows of the trees. Cloaked in black, their faces hidden, they move with eerie silence. One, then two, then more of them, appearing from the forest as if they’ve always been there, watching.

Panic surges through you. You turn fully now, ready to run, but it’s too late. The forest around you is no longer empty. They’ve surrounded you, their dark forms closing in like a tightening net. Your breath catches in your throat as you search for a way out, but there’s none.

Before you can even react, something hard strikes the side of your head. Pain explodes in your skull, and the world around you spins wildly. The ground seems to rush up to meet you as your vision blurs, darkening around the edges. The last thing you feel is the cold, unforgiving earth beneath you as consciousness slips away, pulling you into a deep, heavy darkness.

When you finally come to, your head throbs with pain. Your eyelids flutter open, and the first thing you notice is that you’re propped up against a large, moss-covered stone, the dampness of it seeping through your clothes.

Panic sets in as you realize you’re bound—your wrists and ankles tied tightly with coarse rope, the roughness biting into your skin. There’s a gag in your mouth, muffling your shallow breaths. Your heart races as you struggle to move, but the ropes hold firm.

Looking around, your eyes adjust to the flickering light of candles surrounding you, casting eerie shadows on the trees. There are seven figures, cloaked in black, standing silently around you. They are still, their faces hidden under the hoods.

You hear it then—the low, rhythmic sound of chanting. The voice is monotone, steady, like it’s reciting something ancient and powerful. You don’t understand the words, but you guess it’s Latin. You begin to struggle, trying to loosen the ropes, heart pounding as your fingers strain against the bindings. But the more you move, the tighter they seem to become. Panic rises in your chest.

Suddenly, one of the figures steps forward, and in their hand, you see a dagger glint in the candlelight. Your stomach twists in fear. You freeze, eyes wide, unable to tear your gaze away as they approach you. The chanting continues, unwavering.

Without warning, the figure kneels beside you. The dagger’s cold blade presses against your cheek, and then—pain. You flinch as the sharp steel slices into your skin, a thin line of blood trickling down your face. A muffled whimper escapes your throat. The figure collects the blood, careful and deliberate, smearing it onto an ancient, crumbling scroll that looks like it’s been carried through time itself.

Terror takes over as you watch, helpless, as the figure lights the scroll with a simple flick of a lighter. The flames catch quickly, consuming the scroll in moments. As the last of it turns to ash, the chanting stops.

A deafening silence follows.

No birds. No wind. The entire forest seems to be holding its breath, as if the world itself is waiting for something terrible to happen.

Then, all at once, the candles surrounding you flicker out, plunging you into darkness. But just as quickly, they flare back to life—only this time, the flames are blood red, casting an ominous, fiery glow over the ritual circle. The figures stand unmoving, their faces still hidden, but you can feel the shift in the air. Something has changed.

Something is coming.

The air around you feels thick, oppressive, as if the very forest is suffocating under some unseen weight. Then, suddenly, a voice cuts through the silence. It’s sultry yet booming, rich with mockery and power. It doesn’t come from any one direction—it comes from everywhere at once, as though the trees themselves are speaking.

“Well, well, well,” the voice purrs, dripping with amusement. “How desperate you all must be, fumbling with your little rituals and chants. Meddling with powers far beyond your reach.” It chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating through the forest, making the ground beneath you tremble. “Did you really think you could summon me so easily? That I would come at the beck and call of your pathetic incantations?”

The cloaked figures stiffen at the voice’s words, shifting nervously in their places. They remain silent, but you can feel their fear in the way they hesitate, as if they didn’t anticipate this response. The voice continues, teasing and condescending. “You should’ve known better. But here you are, scrambling in the darkness, begging for something you cannot possibly understand.”

Just then, one of the figures dares to speak. Their voice is trembling, but steady enough to say, “But we brought you a sacrifice.”

The forest falls deathly still. The voice, which had been mocking moments before, quiets suddenly. The shift in its tone is palpable, as though whoever or whatever it is has just taken a keen interest in something—or rather, in someone. You feel a chill creep up your spine.

There’s a long pause, and then the voice speaks again, but this time it’s softer, quieter, as though it's enthralled. “A sacrifice…?” The amusement fades, replaced by something else—curiosity. Desire. “And what a beautiful offering you’ve brought me…”

Your blood runs cold as the voice seems to focus entirely on you now, its words lingering in the air. You can feel its attention like a weight pressing down on you, though there is no form, no figure to see—just the voice, enveloping you in the darkness.

“I must say, you’ve outdone yourselves,” it murmurs, almost appreciatively. “Such beauty… such fragility. A rare find indeed.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can’t tell if this attention is a blessing or a curse. Every muscle in your body screams to run, but the ropes still hold you tight, and the darkness closes in.

The figures, emboldened by the voice’s attention, begin to speak. One by one, they make their demands, their voices eager and trembling with greed.

“We ask for money,” one says, stepping forward.

“Power,” another adds, almost hungrily.

“We offer our loyalty in return for wealth, for control. We will serve you without question,” one of them declares, their voice dripping with desperation.

For a moment, there is silence. Then, the voice returns, and this time it’s filled with cold, biting laughter. “Money? Power?” it repeats, the words laced with disdain. “How pitiful. Is that what you’ve gathered here for? How small your desires are. You dare summon me, meddle in forces far beyond your comprehension, and for what? Gold? Influence?”

The voice’s laughter grows, mocking them all, cutting through the air like a knife. “You offer loyalty as if it means something to me, as if you’re anything more than fleeting, mortal specks. You want power? You want riches? You have no idea what true power is, nor the price it demands.”

The figures hesitate, doubt creeping into their postures as the voice continues to belittle their wishes. And then, just as your heart beats faster with terror, you feel a breath against your ear—soft, like a gentle wind. A whisper, barely audible, brushes against your skin.

“Close your eyes.”

You freeze. Slowly, you turn your head, expecting to see someone beside you, but there’s no one. Just the oppressive darkness and the flickering red flames of the candles. Your pulse quickens, but something deep inside you urges you to trust the voice. Against the rising panic in your chest, you clench your eyes shut tightly, your body trembling as the atmosphere around you shifts.

Suddenly, the stillness of the forest is shattered by the sound of screams. Blood-curdling, desperate cries fill the air, piercing through the night as the figures around you shout and wail in terror. You hear the snap of branches, the thud of bodies hitting the ground, and the crackling of something far more sinister. But you don’t dare open your eyes. You’re frozen in place, paralyzed with fear, every muscle locked in place as chaos erupts around you.

The screams continue, a cacophony of horror, but you keep your eyes shut, holding onto the whisper’s command. Your breath is ragged, your chest heaving as you try to control the overwhelming panic that’s rising inside you. Time stretches, seconds feeling like hours.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the forest goes quiet. The screams fade into nothing, leaving only an eerie silence. Your heart races in the deafening stillness, and though you can no longer hear the carnage, you can feel its lingering presence.

You breathe in and out, fast and shallow, terrified to open your eyes, terrified of what you might see. The forest is so quiet now, as if it’s holding its breath once more. You start to wonder if it’s truly over, if the nightmare has passed.

Then, the whisper returns, soft and chilling, right by your ear. “Sleep…”

Before you can even react, your mind becomes heavy, your body limp. It feels like a spell, something irresistible pulling you into darkness. Your eyes, still shut, flutter briefly before you fall into an all-consuming sleep, leaving the horrors of the forest behind.

You drift through the most peaceful sleep you’ve ever had, your body weightless, like it’s floating down a calm, serene river. The usual tension in your muscles is gone, replaced by a deep, soothing calm. It’s as if you’re cradled by warmth, gently rocked by invisible hands. There’s no sense of time, only pure restfulness, the kind that reaches into your soul and makes you feel whole.

In the distance, you hear a voice—soft, affectionate, and full of admiration. It whispers sweetly, its tone rich and tender, complimenting everything about you. It praises the softness of your hair, the elegance of your face, the beauty of your body, and even your very presence, as though every part of you is perfect. The words wash over you like a lullaby, pulling you deeper into that blissful rest.

When you finally wake up, you’re in your bed. The familiar comfort of your own room surrounds you, but something doesn’t feel right. You blink groggily, sitting up, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep. Confused, you glance around, and your heart races as you remember the events —the forest, the figures, the voice. Instinctively, your hand goes to your cheek, expecting to feel the sting of the cut, but there’s nothing. Your skin is smooth, untouched. There’s no sign of what happened.

You throw off the covers and hurry to the mirror, your pulse quickening. You search your reflection, half-expecting to see some trace of the terror from the forest, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Your hair is the same, your face unmarked. It’s like nothing happened at all, and yet… you know it wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t have been. The memory is too vivid, too real. The voice, the blood, the chanting—all of it remains sharp in your mind.

You turn away from the mirror, trying to make sense of it, when something catches your eye. Your breath hitches in your throat. On your bedside table, there’s a candle—lit and burning softly. Next to it, a single rose, its petals dark and velvety, resting elegantly beside the flame.

You freeze, your heart pounding as you approach it. Slowly, you pick up the rose, your fingers brushing against its delicate petals. The candle flickers slightly, casting a warm glow across the room. You stare at it, the confusion settling deep in your chest.

“Oh…” you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. The soft voice from your dream, the one that praised you, seems to echo in your ear again, gentle and intimate. Startled, you whip around, expecting to see someone behind you, but there’s no one. Just the empty room.

“Weird…” you mutter under your breath, glancing around once more. Still, there’s no explanation, no figure emerging from the shadows. You place the rose back down on the table and blow out the candle, watching the smoke spiral up into the air before it disappears. The room feels normal again, but the unease remains.

You climb back into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. Despite everything, the warmth of sleep begins to pull at you again, as if beckoning you back into its embrace. And though the forest may be far behind, you can’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—is still watching.

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In the days that follow, you can’t shake the unsettling feeling of being watched. It’s always there, just out of sight—a presence hovering behind you, lingering at the edge of your senses. Every time you glance over your shoulder, expecting to see someone or something, there’s nothing. Just empty air. But the feeling never fades. It clings to you like a shadow, haunting your every move.

You become more cautious, always looking around, watching for signs of movement, but there’s no panic, no alarm. It’s almost as if your body has accepted the presence, even as your mind refuses to make sense of it. You should feel fear, but instead, there’s a strange calm, an eerie quiet that lingers no matter how close the feeling gets.

The day after the incident, you return to the forest, hoping for some kind of clue, some proof that it wasn’t a dream. But the forest is peaceful, untouched. There’s no sign of the ritual, no remnants of the candles, no trace of the figures. It’s as though the whole thing never happened, swallowed up by the woods themselves. The silence feels wrong, and as you walk the same path, the memory of that night burns vividly in your mind, but there’s nothing here to confirm it.

You try to move on, but even your friends start noticing the change in you. Rei, Jeongin, and Yujin glance at you with worried eyes, asking if everything’s okay. You brush them off, telling them it’s just stress, maybe some restless nights. But deep down, you know it’s more than that. There’s no rest anymore, only the constant feeling that you’re being watched, even when no one is around.

And then there’s the candle and rose. Every night, without fail, when you go to bed, they’re there. The candle always lit, casting a soft glow across your room. The rose—perfect, fresh, never wilting—sits beside it. It weirds you out, gnawing at your sanity, especially when you know you lock the windows and draw the curtains every night. There’s no way someone could be getting in. After the third night, you even called the police, desperate for answers. But they found nothing—no signs of forced entry, no signs of any entry at all. The officer told you everything seemed normal, but nothing about this felt normal to you.

The hopelessness sinks in. There’s no explanation, no rational way to understand what’s happening. And it doesn’t help that at night, when the world is quiet, you can hear it again—that soft voice. It’s always there, whispering just at the edge of your consciousness. Close, yet distant. Its words are impossible to grasp, like a lullaby just out of reach, tugging at your mind as you drift into sleep, feeling the weight of something you can’t explain pressing down on you.

You want to scream, to fight it, but there’s no fear. Only that strange, unsettling calm, like a storm waiting to break. And you can’t tell if you’re more terrified of what’s happening—or of how much you’ve come to expect it.

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One day, in the midst of your growing paranoia and frustration, you find yourself mindlessly scrolling on your computer when a strange ad catches your attention: a website for a fortune teller. The colorful banner flickers, promising answers to those who seek them, and normally you’d scoff at something like this. But with everything going on, you find yourself clicking the link. Desperation tugs at your thoughts. Maybe she could explain what’s happening, or at least help make sense of the strange calm that now follows you like a shadow.

The next day, you go. The fortune teller’s shop is tucked away in a quiet part of town, the kind of place you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it. Inside, the scent of incense hangs thick in the air, and the room is dimly lit by candles that flicker with every movement. She sits across from you, an older woman with knowing eyes that seem to see right through you.

As you settle into the chair, she doesn’t need much prompting. After a brief introduction, she tells you that she feels something around you, something that clings to you. “There’s a presence,” she says, her voice low and thoughtful. “Usually, a presence like this would be malevolent, something dark and dangerous… but right now, it’s calm. It feels content, almost protective.”

Her words send a chill down your spine. You’ve never bought into this kind of thing before, but something inside you tells you to listen. You can’t deny the truth in her words. That presence, the one you’ve felt trailing you day and night—it’s always there, but never threatening.

She pulls out her tarot deck, shuffling the cards with practiced ease, her fingers nimble as she lays them out on the table. One card catches your eye immediately—the Devil. When she spots it, her breath catches. “The Devil,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. “It represents temptation, control, and obsession. But it’s also a card of power, of something… primal. Something that binds itself to you, and once it has, it rarely lets go.”

You sit there, frozen, as she explains the meaning of the card. It’s about being tethered to something you can’t escape from, something that might seduce you with its calm but still holds an underlying danger. You barely hear her as she continues, your thoughts racing.

When you finally leave the fortune teller’s shop, you step out into the street, dazed and conflicted. The cold air bites at your skin, but your mind feels numb. You stand there for a long time, thinking over everything she said, the Devil card burned into your thoughts. The idea that this presence, this voice, is somehow tied to you—content now, but still something to be wary of—it sends your head spinning.

Eventually, you walk to the bus stop, lost in your thoughts. When the bus arrives, you get on, finding an empty seat by the window. As you sit, staring out into the city, you can’t shake the strange feeling again—that presence lingering close, too close. You glance out the window, and for a moment, you swear you see something sitting beside you in the reflection. A shadow, just out of the corner of your eye.

Your heart skips a beat, and you turn to look—but there’s nothing. No one. Just the empty seat beside you, like always. You squint, trying to shake the feeling, and look back at the window. The reflection shows nothing.

You huff in frustration, shaking off the moment, and pull out your phone, trying to distract yourself. But as the bus rolls forward, you can’t help but feel that presence still, hovering just beyond your senses, patient and ever-present.

You step off the bus at the stop you wanted, your mind still racing from the strange encounter on the ride. The air is cool as you walk, your footsteps almost mindless, leading you down familiar streets until you reach the church. Its tall steeple rises against the sky, and you pause for a moment, staring at it. A sigh escapes your lips as you shrug, figuring there’s no harm in trying. Maybe this place, of all places, could offer you some sort of clarity—or peace.

Pushing open the heavy doors, you step into the threshold. The moment you cross over, something shifts. The constant feeling of being watched, that heavy, unshakeable presence, vanishes. It should bring you relief, but instead, a hollow emptiness fills the space where that presence once lingered. You stop in your tracks, feeling strangely vulnerable, exposed in a way you hadn’t expected.

Every cell in your body screams at you to turn back, to leave the church and return to where you felt… safer. But you swallow the feeling, pushing it down as you make your way past the countless rows of benches, your eyes fixed on the altar.

“Hello,” you call out, your voice echoing through the empty space, bouncing off the high ceilings.

“Hello, my child,” a voice responds. You turn to see a priest walking towards you, his face kind, his eyes full of concern. “How may I help you?”

You hesitate for a moment, wondering how to even begin explaining what you’ve been feeling, but something about the priest’s calm demeanor makes it easier. You tell him everything—about the ritual and the feeling of being watched that never left you. He listens carefully, nodding as you speak, never interrupting. When you finish, he places a hand on your shoulder, his expression grave but understanding.

“I think you may benefit from a cleansing,” he suggests gently. “It could help you find peace.”

You’re not sure what peace would even feel like anymore, but you nod anyway, agreeing to the cleansing. He leads you to a small side chapel, where he begins to recite verses, his voice steady and reassuring as he works through the ritual. You stand still, feeling the weight of his words settle around you, like a protective barrier forming between you and whatever it is that’s been haunting you.

When he finishes, you feel lighter—but not in the way you expected. You thank him quietly, offering a small smile before heading back toward the exit. But as you reach the door, you stop, standing just before the threshold. There’s an odd feeling gnawing at you, something that makes you hesitate before stepping outside. You take a deep breath, as if bracing yourself for whatever might come next.

Finally, you step out. You wait for the familiar sensation to return—the feeling of being watched, the strange calm that’s followed you for days. But nothing happens. The air is still. The presence is gone.

You exhale slowly, the tension in your chest loosening, and for the first time in a while, you feel a flicker of relief. Maybe this is what peace feels like. Maybe you’ve finally managed to shake whatever it was that had been clinging to you. You walk down the church steps and start making your way home, your steps lighter, as if the weight of the last few days has lifted.

But as the quiet of the evening settles around you, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder, just to be sure.

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That night, when you finally make your way to bed, something feels off the moment you step into your room. It’s quiet, almost too quiet, and when you glance at your bedside table, the absence hits you immediately. There’s no candle softly flickering, no rose resting beside it. For days, those strange, inexplicable objects had become part of your nighttime routine, and now, without them, your room feels… empty.

You stand there for a moment, staring at the bare space, unsure how to feel. Part of you should be relieved, right? The presence is gone, the priest’s cleansing worked, and now, everything is back to normal. But as you sit on the edge of the bed, you can’t shake the odd sense of unease gnawing at you. That eerie calm you’d come to expect—no matter how unsettling—had become familiar. And now that it’s gone, it feels like something important has been ripped away.

You lie down, pulling the covers up, trying to convince yourself that this is what you wanted. Peace. Quiet. But as the night wears on, you toss and turn, the silence pressing in on you from all sides. Sleep doesn’t come easily. Every time you close your eyes, you expect to hear that soft, whispering voice, or to catch the faint scent of roses in the air. But there’s nothing. Just the cold, stark quiet.

Hours pass, and despite the exhaustion, you can’t seem to find any comfort. The night drags on, restless and heavy, and when you do manage to drift off, it’s into a light, uneasy slumber. The dreams that come are disjointed, dark, and full of shadows that shift and twist just beyond your reach.

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As the days turn into a blur of mundane routines, you find yourself increasingly aware of an emptiness that settles in your chest. It starts subtly, creeping in like the morning fog, but soon it becomes a heavy weight you can’t ignore. You catch yourself glancing around your room, searching for something, but you can’t quite put your finger on what’s missing.

You dismiss it at first. Tell yourself it’s just a phase, a product of the unsettling experience you had in the forest and the church. But deep down, you know what it is.

Each night, when you lay in bed, the absence gnaws at you, louder than your rational thoughts. You try to convince yourself that you don’t need any strange tokens, that their disappearance signifies freedom. But the truth is, you miss the ritual, the soothing presence they offered, even if it was unsettling. They were reminders that you weren’t entirely alone, even if the presence felt like a shadow lurking in the corners of your mind.

You begin to notice it more and more during the day. At work, when the sunlight streams through the window, illuminating everything around you, your thoughts drift to that flickering candlelight. You find yourself distracted, unable to concentrate, imagining the scent of roses filling your room, their petals vibrant and alive. In moments of quiet, when you should feel at peace, your mind wanders back to the eerie calm that came with those objects.

You even catch yourself thinking about the fortune teller’s words, the way she spoke of the Devil card and its implications. Was it truly gone? Or was it simply biding its time, waiting for you to acknowledge its presence again? The uncertainty hangs over you like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive.

Every night, as you prepare for bed, you look at that empty space on your bedside table, and a familiar ache settles in. You want to deny it, want to convince yourself that you’re better off without the strange gifts. But as you drift into an uneasy sleep, the truth lingers just beneath the surface—you miss what once was, even if it was chaotic and frightening.

And the more you deny it, the stronger that longing becomes, until it feels like a part of you is reaching out, desperate to reclaim the connection you once had.

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One night, as the hours dragged on, you found yourself tossing and turning, your mind racing with thoughts that wouldn’t settle. Eventually, you groaned in frustration and opened your eyes, confronting the reality that sleep was eluding you. With a resigned sigh, you sat up, pulling the covers off your body. You felt restless, as if your own skin was too tight.

Navigating through the dark, you made your way to the kitchen, each step a little more deliberate than the last. The house was silent, the only sound the soft padding of your feet on the cool floor. You reached the fridge and pulled out a water bottle, opening it with a quick twist before taking a few long gulps. The cool water felt refreshing, but as you set the bottle down, a familiar shiver raced up your spine.

You froze, instinctively turning slowly around, scanning the dimly lit kitchen. “Hello?” you called out, your voice a soft echo in the stillness. But there was no response, only the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of the wind outside.

Turning back around, you tried to shake off the chill that lingered, but then something shifted in the air. It wasn’t stifling, but it felt heavy, pressing down on you like a weight. A sudden awareness prickled at the back of your neck, and you froze again, feeling a breath whisper past your ear.

It was warm and sweet, mixed with an intoxicating scent of roses and something burning, like incense.

“Hello, little angel,” a sultry voice whispered, sending chills through your body. “Miss me?”

You turned your head slowly, dread pooling in your stomach, and there it was—a black shadow, dark and formless, hovering just inches from your face. Two crimson eyes glinted in the darkness, locking onto yours with an intensity that paralyzed you. You wanted to scream, to run, but your tongue felt heavy and your limbs refused to move. All you could do was stare in terror, heart pounding in your chest as the shadow loomed closer.

In that moment, you understood with horrifying clarity: you weren’t alone anymore.

You could only watch as the shadow moved to stand directly in front of you, your gaze locked onto its form, mouth slightly open in disbelief. The presence was back, and you felt a strange mix of fear and longing bubbling within you. You hadn’t realized how much you missed that voice, that intimate whisper, until it echoed in the stillness of your kitchen once more.

“Excuse my sudden disappearance,” the shadow spoke, its tone smooth and rich, wrapping around you like silk. “The cleansing you underwent caused me to step back. I could only return to you when your soul desired me again.”

Your heart raced as his words registered, the surreal nature of the moment crashing down around you. You found your voice again after the shock wore off, forcing the question out of your throat. “What… are you?”

The shadow paused, then gave a graceful nod as if remembering something important. “Excuse my manners,” he said smoothly, his voice dripping with dark elegance. And then, right before your eyes, the inky figure began to shift. The darkness gave way to a striking form, his transformation almost too breathtaking to believe.

He stood there now, a tall, beautiful man, whose very presence stole the breath from your lungs. His skin with pale, flawless that seemed to glow in the dim light. His black attire was tailored perfectly, hugging his body and adding to the aura of power he exuded. But it was his eyes that drew you in —those deep, red orbs that gleamed with a playful yet dangerous light, and his blond hair fell effortlessly around his soft features. But it was more than just his face that left you spellbound—two long, black horns curved proudly from his head, and behind him, a sleek, horned tail swished lazily through the air. In his hand, he casually twirled a pitchfork, as if it were an extension of himself.

“I am the Devil,” he said with a charming smile, his gaze locked onto yours, “but you may call me Sunoo.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. You stared at him, a whirlwind of emotions crashing through you—fear, intrigue, and an unsettling familiarity. The realization of what he was settled deep within you, mingling with the longing you had tried so hard to suppress. Despite the warnings that echoed in your mind, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, to the chaos and the darkness he represented.

The kitchen felt smaller now, the shadows thicker as he took a step closer. “And I have come back for you,” he said, his voice low and enticing, making your heart race faster. His red eyes locked onto yours, and with each word he spoke, the weight of his gaze felt as though it was peeling back your very soul.

“I watched you,” he began, his voice a low rumble, rich with emotion. “The moment I laid eyes on you, I craved you. You ignited a hunger within me that I had thought long extinguished. A mortal like you,” he said, his tone reverent, “looked like an angel in my eyes. Your innocence, your strength, your beauty—each facet drew me closer, wrapping around my heart like a vine.”

As he reached out, his fingers brushed against your cheek, a caress that sent a shiver of warmth through your body. His touch was electric, igniting a spark deep inside you that resonated with every heartbeat. “But then,” he continued, the softness of his voice darkening, “I saw you on that forest floor, hurt and scared for your life. It filled me with fury, a rage that pulsed through my veins. How dare they threaten you?”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he continued, “I sought you out. I stood by you, watching over you as you went about your days, waiting for the moment when you would long for me as I longed for you. I protected you from the darkness that surrounded you, even as I stood in the shadows. I knew this night would come—the time when you would feel my presence and accept me as your own.”

Your heart raced, his words weaving a web of desire and belonging that tightened around your chest. “Your soul now belongs to me,” he whispered, and as the words left his lips, you felt his hand press against your chest, right over your heart. The moment his palm made contact, your heartbeat quickened, a rapid rhythm drumming beneath his touch, as if responding to him alone.

You were so close to him now, his presence overwhelming, the warmth of his body radiating against your own. His gaze never wavered, locking onto you with a hunger that made your skin flush. Without warning, he moved swiftly, twisting you in a fluid motion until your back was pressed firmly against the counter. The cool surface was a stark contrast to the heat that coursed through your body.

Before you could react, his strong hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he hoisted you up and set you on the counter. The sensation of his touch lingered, your body humming with warmth as his gaze roamed over you, a possessive fire burning in his eyes.

He took a moment to admire you, his gaze roaming from your head to your toes, as if memorizing every detail. “You complete me,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “I have waited countless millennia for my Queen. And here you are, the one I have searched for. When you were sacrificed to me, I knew your soul would be mine forever.”

As he spoke, you felt a rush of warmth flood through you, like molten gold coursing through your veins. His presence enveloped you, making you feel alive in a way you hadn’t thought possible.

“You are perfect,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “Every inch of you is a work of art, crafted for my eyes alone.” Then, without warning, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that ignited every nerve ending in your body. It was passionate, a collision of heat and longing that left you breathless.

Suddenly, you felt whole, as if the missing pieces of your soul had been returned to you. A wave of warmth washed over you, burning deliciously from the inside out. You melted into him, feeling safe and cherished as he held you close. His kiss deepened, a dance of desire that left you wanting more, while his hands roamed your body, caressing your curves with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his longing.

You lost yourself in him, wrapped in the intoxicating blend of warmth and desire. Every kiss, every gentle caress, felt like a promise—an assurance that you were meant to be together, that you had finally found the place where you belonged. In his embrace, you felt invincible, as if nothing in the world could ever harm you again.

When you pulled back, breathless and dazed, he dove back in, capturing your lips with a fervor that left you reeling. “My angel,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with longing, “you don’t understand how much I need you. You are everything to me.” Each word tumbled from his lips like a sacred incantation, wrapping around you and pulling you deeper into his world.

You gasped as he kissed you again, his mouth moving against yours with a hungry urgency that sent shivers down your spine. The warmth of his body pressed against you, and you felt as though you were melting into him, losing all sense of time and space. He was insatiable, a force of nature, and you struggled to keep up with the intensity of his desire.

“I will keep you for myself,” he vowed, his voice so soft that it sent a thrill of excitement through you. “No one will take you from me. I will protect you for all eternity.”

With every kiss, he expressed a need that felt primal, as if he were staking his claim on your soul. You gasped again, trying to keep pace with the whirlwind of emotion that engulfed you both. He pressed against you, the world outside fading into a blur as his presence consumed you. You could feel his heart racing, a rhythm that matched your own, each thump a testament to the bond that was forming between you.

“Please,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his red gaze filled with a fierce intensity. “Let me show you what it means to be loved by the Devil. Let me drown you in my devotion.”

As he pulled back slightly, his red eyes shimmering with intensity, he asked, “Will you come with me? Will you rule beside me as my Queen?” The weight of his question hung in the air, and you felt your heart race at the thought of a life intertwined with his—a life where you would stand by his side, embracing the darkness and light together.

Looking into those mesmerizing, molten eyes, a wave of certainty washed over you. You found yourself nodding, breathless as the words tumbled from your lips. “Yes, I’ll come with you.”

A wide grin spread across his face, a radiant joy that illuminated his features. The sight sent a rush of warmth through you, igniting a fire that burned hotter than ever before. He leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a passionate kiss that left you dizzy. The heat between you surged, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth that made you feel like you were burning from the inside out.

In the blink of an eye, the world around you shifted. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself in a magnificent room bathed in rich, lavish reds. The walls pulsed with a warm glow, and golden accents shimmered in the ambient light, highlighting the opulence that surrounded you. You were nestled on a grand bed, the silken sheets beneath you soft and cool, cradling you like clouds.

Turning your head, you saw him standing a few feet away, his red eyes locked onto you, radiating affection and adoration. His presence was comforting, that it made your chest swell with joy. You belonged here—with him.

As if reading your thoughts, he climbed into bed beside you, pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you, strong yet gentle, holding you with a protective warmth that made you feel safe. A wide grin spread across his face, and you noticed how his eyes almost disappeared when he smiled, his soft cheeks lifting in a way that made him look so much more human, so endearing.

It almost made you want to reach out and squish his cheeks—this unexpected softness he showed you. His red eyes glimmered with love, as if you were the center of his universe. “My Queen,” he said, his voice filled with pride and affection.

You smiled back at him, feeling the weight of the bond that now intertwined your souls. “My King,” you whispered in return.

His grin widened as he hugged you even closer, his hold warm and reassuring. The titles felt right, as if they’d always been meant for the two of you.

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 

 I won.

 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 

 But fighting is all I know. 

 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 

 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 

 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 

 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 

 Shit, me too. 

 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 

 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

 Great.

 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 

 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 

 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 

 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 

 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 

 Me. But that’s besides the point.

 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 

 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 

 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 

 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 

 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 

 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

 I’m getting hard.

 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 

 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 

 Either way, I’ll act on it.

 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 

 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

 “Why are you still mad at me?” 

 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 

 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 

 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

 “Probably because you love me.”

 “Probably not.”

  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 

 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  

 And she knows it. 

 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 

 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 

 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 

 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 

 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

 So—I take advantage of it. 

 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 

 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 

 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 

 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 

 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 

 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

 “Shit, angel. I will.”

 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 

 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 

 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 

 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 

 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 

 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 

 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

 “Please.”

 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 

 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 

 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 

 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 

 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 

 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 

 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 

 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

 I’m about to come. Hard.

 But I need her to come first.

 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 

 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 

 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 

 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 

 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 

 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE WORDSMITH.

fandom. formula one

pairing. charles leclerc x author fem!reader (fc: none)

about. bestseller author genevieve dedicates her newest book to a special person. the internet tries to find out who it is

content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread

notes. who doesn't dream about being a world famous author?

GENEVIEVE_UPDATES

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 10'883 others

genevieve_updates The dedication in the newest Bestseller 'When We Were Wallflowers', by @/genevieve. For the first time in her career she mentiones a partner, calling him 'my love' and surprisingly also 'mon coeur'. Who could her beau be?

user NO MOTHER IS NO LONGER SINGLE

⤷ user my life is officially over...

user HE'S THE REASON WHY WE HAVE THE BEST ROMANCE BOOK OF THE DECADE THANK YOU DAD

⤷ user parents fr 🙏🙏🙏

user "our story now forever immortal and never forgotten" AND WHAT IF I CRY

user don't know if i should cry tears from sadness that mom is taken or happiness that mom is taken

⤷ user at least he makes her happy (delulu)

⤷ user you're so right, tears of happiness then

user THE F1 X GENEVIEVE CROSSOVER IS HAPPENING??

⤷ user SO I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICED PIERRE IN THE LIKES

⤷ user charles as well???

⤷ user hello wtf is happening SINCE WHEN DO THEY READ??

user "YOUR WORDSMITH"???? am i the only one loosing my mind over this

⤷ user no. i just haven't recovered yet

GENEVIEVE

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, haileybieber and 503'002 others

genevieve My summer was filled with flowers and love, so much love. It has given me enough inspiration to write yet another romance book, even if I promised to return to my beloved fantasy. Yet when the heart calls... who am I to refuse? 'Reverie, Lost in your Love' will be published in November '24!

user HOLY SHIT WE'RE GETTING FED FR

user SHE NAMED HER NEW BOOK REVERIE I CAN NOT

⤷ user reverie: a state of being pleasantly lost in your thoughts, almost dreaming

⤷ user mom is big brained fr "lost in your love"? yes, yes i will be

haileybieber I will be (im)patiently waiting, as always 💗

⤷ genevieve And I will be sending you the first draft, as always

⤷ user their friendship is so dear to me 🥹🥹

⤷ user icons supporting icons i fear

⤷ user auntie hailey better drop some spoilers!!!

zendaya We're getting another romance by our queen! Rejoice!!

⤷ user DAYA IS LIKE US FR

⤷ user WEWOOO SHE READS GENEVIEVE

user i just know the cover will be serving cunt (in the most beautiful flowers)

user REVERIE REVERIE REVERIE

user only four months left... only four months left......

pierregasly super liked by pierre gasly

⤷ user why is he so unserious 😭

⤷ user "super liked" goddamn we're finally reaching the part where he will rate posts he likes

CHARLES_LECLERC

liked by pierregasly, andferrari007, arthur_leclerc and 1'032'883 others

charles_leclerc Nothing better than summer, sun, beach and a good book in my hands. And of course good company 😉

user the tan 🫠🫠

user IS THAT A GENEVIEVE BOOK??

⤷ user oh my god you're right

⤷ user and it's one of her fantasy ones, from her fae series 👀

⤷ user charles has taste

user first he's in her likes and now he's reading her books... how do we tell him

⤷ user hear me out, genevieve and charles *gets shot*

⤷ user KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, MOM DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN HIM

⤷ user i trust in mom and i trust that she wouldn't fall for a vroom vroom man

pierregasly you already finished the other books?

⤷ charles_leclerc Breezed through them 😆

⤷ arthur_leclerc He's waiting for November

⤷ pierregasly aren't we all?

user the filter is back..

⤷ user the filter never left

GENEVIEVE

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, gigihadid and 3'029'746 others

genevieve "J'adore ton sourire, ma belle." I remember hearing these words for the first time, I remember his own smile he gave me back then, and I just knew, I love him. Thank you, Charlie, mon coeur, for standing by my side, for being my inspiration, my defender against the cursed writer's block. Your passion inspires me to write even more, so I'm proud to announce once again, another romance book. 'Winterbliss and Midnightkiss' will be available in March '25.

charles_leclerc Tu es incroyable, ma belle ❤️

⤷ genevieve Right back at you, my champion

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ARKHAM MAID 2024

[writingstoraes]

you're losing me 🎤

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!singer!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: randomly got this idea yesterday so i started working on it before i forgot lolol i missed writing here hehe lmk what u guys think!

about: just when everyone suspects you and charles have called it quits, you release a single entitled "you're losing me".

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, selenagomez, and 14,892,001 others

yourusername Stop, you're losing me. I can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore.

Been debating on whether to release this track or not for 2 weeks now. This is a song close to my heart and recently wrote.

You're Losing Me. Out tomorrow, 12 AM ET.

zendaya Cannot wait to hear it! ❤

popgirls THATS MOTHER!!!

yncore ma'am are those the lyrics... oh this song depressing as fuck

midnights16 not her releasing this the day she goes trending for apparently having broken up with charles too 😭

lecsainzz Pls dont let this be the confirmation I AM THIS CLOSE TO CRYING

hamiltonhero OH THIS IS SICKKK RIGHT WHEN THE BREAK UP RUMORS ARE AT ITS PEAK

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen, isahernaez, and 2,349,881 others

charles_leclerc You're never gonna lose me ❤️

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo Blew all the breakup rumors right out of the water 🤣

landonorris I'm gonna tell my engineer to play the song while I'm driving hahaha

yourusername Friday dethroned? I'm shocked

landonorris Anything for my favorite pop star ☺️

charles_leclerc I am literally sitting beside you

landonorris ?? I am literally her #1 fan get out of here please

yourusername Last I heard, we broke up 🤔

charles_leclerc No plans of letting you go, amour 😘

yourusername

liked by kendalljenner, zendaya, taylorswift, and 10,992,229 others

yourusername Apparently you're single now, mind if I take you out to dinner?

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc You can keep me forever and I wouldn't mind :)

yukitsunoda0511 Mom? Dad???

arthurleclerc This is how you won her over? 🤣

carlossainz55 3 years later and he still smiles at your pick up lines, Y/N 😆

yourusername Take a pic for me next time, Chili!

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tagging: @slytherheign i know you love angst but this is what the emoji u chose meant 🤣

notes: this took so much time LMAOOO anyways i really missed writing here hehe lmk what u guys think! (still have so many drafts i have yet to finish) thank u for reading ♡

[cyberkinks]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑︙ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐄 {M}・♡ [old draft]

⤷︎︎ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬, wom!reader, boyfriend!marklee, angry yet calm mark, confrontation, dominant mark, kissing, sexual intercourse, him pleasing you in the best way, him being gentle, aftercare.

⤷︎︎ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, use of foul language, use of pet names (maybe), misspellings (maybe).

⤷︎︎ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞, angst, smut, fluff, non-idol au.

⤷︎︎ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲, you told mark you were staying at a friends house which he didn’t mind but he later finds something out and confronts you about it the moment you came home.

⤷︎︎ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫!, this is for entertainment purposes only!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ❛ hello everyone! i know it’s been a minute and i apologize but i hope you enjoy this oneshot as much as i enjoyed writing it especially since mark has been bias wrecking me a lot recently hehe but love you all, muwah. ♡ ❜

𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐨𝐧: i thought about him with his blonde hair while writing this. 🤭

⤷︎︎ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝?: no. unedited.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 opened the front door to the apartment you shared with your lovely boyfriend, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 and closed it back silently. as you were about to walk off towards the bedroom, you heard the lamp light that was on a table by the couch being clicked on which startled you and made you turn around, only seeing that it was mark.

you placed your hand on your chest, taking a deep breath “you scared me, babe.” you chuckled before walking over to him. he took a sip of his water from his glass cup before sitting it down on the coffee table “where were you tonight, y/n?” his voice was soft yet stern “I told you I was at 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬, don’t you remember?” you tried to walk off but he stood in front of you “y/n, don’t lie to me.”

you frown at him “I’m not lying babe, I was at “ “I called her and she said she hasn’t seen you since last week.” he says interrupting your sentence and you gulp at his statement. “so, I’m gonna ask you again…..where were you tonight?”

his eyes stare into yours waiting on the truth from you as his arms fold “I was at a bar with 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞, now can I go?-“ “Why were you at a bar, y/n?” “I just wanted to go out and have some fun is all, is there a problem with that?” you were kinda annoyed at his behavior “No but what I’m not understanding is why you lied.”

you sigh “maybe it’s because I know you’d act like this, ever thought of that?” he steps closer “I need to know where you are at all times in case something happens to you, y/n. I’m trying to protect you.”

“Mark, I’m not a little girl, I can handle myself” “I’m aware but what if one day you can’t? what if something serious happens? huh?”

he has a point. it’s getting more dangerous out there and lying to him isn’t the best idea. he gets so protective that it annoys you but you also understand why.

“you’re right, I’m sorry for lying.” you fiddle with the promise ring he gave you. mark sighs before apologizing “I'm sorry too, I just…get paranoid.” you cup his cheek, smiling at him softly “I understand and I won’t lie about where I am anymore, okay?” he nods as his hand goes up to yours that was on his cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours.

his eyes glistens as he continues to stare into yours before leaning down and pressing his lips softly against yours, kissing you gently.

his hands went down to your hips, pulling you closer as you held his face kissing him back with the same passion. your lips melt into each other, deepening it a little more as he tilts his head to the side.

your hands went to his neck as he moaned out little noises along with you.

the kiss lasts for a good 20 seconds before you both pull away staring into each other’s eyes. he removes his hands from your hips and grabs your hand, leading you towards the bedroom. you watch him admiring his back frame, tugging on your bottom lip.

he opens the bedroom door and lets you walk in first before closing it behind him. he then grabs your face and kisses you once more, mumbling how much he loves you between kisses.

the way he treats you was more than enough. he truly loves you unlike any other guy you were with and you start to notice that in this moment. he’s never gotten mad about the smallest things, he just wants to make sure that you’re okay and happy, he was the person you've been searching for, you’re just happy that you never took his love for granted.

you smile into the kiss as your hands rest on his shoulders “I love you too.” you mumble against his lips before kissing him again. you felt his hands travel down to your jacket, taking it off your body and throwing it on the floor.

your hands trail up his arms and onto his shoulders, deepening the kiss. your body starts to burn with passion and desire as your tongues dance with each other.

he soon pulls away gently and gazes into your eyes before softly pushing you onto the bed. his eyes never left yours until his hands slid underneath your dress and tugged at your underwear and he looked up at you for approval to slip them off and you nodded.

with one swift motion, he pulls them off and drops them on the floor before pulling your dress back and dipping his head between your legs. he opens your legs wider and carefully licks at your wet slit which makes you gasp in response. your hand goes to his hair as he starts to fully pleasure your folds, humming against you at how good you taste to him.

his lips wrap around your sensitive clit, sucking on it gently. one of his hands left your thighs and two fingers were now inside of you, thrusting slowly as his tongue laps at you clit, sucking it from time to time.

“mark..” you moan out softly which was like music to his ears. he loves hearing how good he’s making you feel, it does something unspeakable to him. his eyes open and looks up at you who was watching him. your hand grips onto his hair harder pushing his head deeper and he lets you.

mark pace increases and starts to pump his fingers into you quicker and his tongue laps faster at your clit. soon. his fingers replace with his tongue again, eating you as if this was his last meal.

your back arches off the bed as he pulls you closer. he grunts lowly against your folds, deepening his head on his own this time. “m-mark!” your moans start to louden while your other hand grips onto the bedsheets. gasps and pants leaves your mouth. he tongue felt like heaven.

you close off your eyes but open them again to watch as he finishes you off. your legs were shaking on his shoulders. his pace quickens more as he grinds against the bed, eager for you to finish on his tongue and you do.

your body shakes from the orgasm, breathing heavy as you lay back down on the bed. he continues to lap at your clit helping you with your orgasm until your body cringes from it. he then climbs between your legs and softly presses his lips against yours, kissing you with passion.

he grinds himself against you teasingly as his lips trails down to your neck. your hands tugs at his shirt before slipping it off of him. his hands went down and pulls his sweats down, revealing his hard and thick cock.

“Are you ready for me?” he asks to make sure that you’re comfortable and you nod.

he places himself at your wet core and carefully slides himself inside you and you both gasped. you felt so full. he leaned down and started to kiss on your neck, letting you adjust to his size before starting to move his hips against yours at a slow and steady pace. the way he stretched you made your mouth fall open.

a soft moan escapes your lips as you grip onto his shoulders, closing your eyes enjoying this moment. his hands pins down your legs against the the mattress, continuing to roll his hips into you.

mark looked at you. “ready for more?” his voice was soft. I nodded but he didn’t take it as an answer. “use your words for me.” you closed your eyes at the feeling of him, slowly rubbing against your folds. “yes.” you whispered softly.

his thrusts became sharp and quick. his hands gripped your hips tightly, biting down on his bottom lip. you gripped his shoulders harder, gasping at his change of pace. he pulled your body closer to his, nuzzling his face in your neck. his lips were leaving soft kisses all over your throat and collarbone.

the way your tight cunt was vibrating around him made him grunt against your neck. the sounds you were making ignited the fire inside him. mark wanted to make you scream and cry out his name. he removed his lips from your skin and tightened his grip on your hips. his pace changed again and you felt him pounding into you, groaning. "Fuck, you feel s'good, princess," he whispered and his head went back.

"Can't get enough of you." he groans. "Mark." your hand went to his biceps, gripping him firmly. you were dripping wet for him. "Mmph, it's all yours," you whined softly. "All mine." his speed quickens. your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, your boobs were moving in sync with his pace and your hair was spread out on the pillow underneath you. that was his view and he loved it. he loved watching you. he loved watching you take him. it was breathtaking.

he grabbed your legs and gently lifts them on his shoulders before pinning your legs down against the mattress.

his hands squeezed your legs tighter, rutting more and more into you until you came onto him. your body trembles and shakes as he slows down his pace.

your eyes rolled back as your back arched from the bed. “fuck!” you cry out, throwing your head back on the pillow as your mouth flew open.

he panted heavy as he leaned down, gently kissing you. you kissed him back while gently moving your hips. he slowly moved his hips into yours, making sure not to hurt you.

mark presses kisses along your collarbone and jawline before trailing back up to your lips. “I love you.” he whispers against your skin. “i love you too mark.” you pant.

“now, let me make you cum.” you said before switching positions with him. you were now on top and he was on the bottom.

“you’re so naughty.” he says as you lift your hips. “you know that right?” you giggled before replying. “of course, i know.” you gently sunk yourself onto his cock, whining out as you place your hands on his chest. “You’re so big!” the stretch is always amazing.

“All for you.” he whispers.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬.

[dixons-sunshine]

Soooo headcannons would be absolutely amazing (tbh i'm obsessed with this story-)

Only if your up for it of course, just letting you know that I am interested (and I'm sure i'm not alone) bc you asked :)

Thank you for writing! Your work is amazing!

(I've also lost many drafts that didn't save and it's always so so sad)

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons |Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Word count: 840.

A/n: Ask and you shall receive! I have so many personal headcannons and I'm so excited to share it with you all. Maybe I'll incorporate some of these into oneshots one day. Who knows? But I'm really in the mood for Young!Daryl these days, so send in some requests for him if y'all wanna see more!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

★ Your ages aren't specified, but I headcannon that y'all are 17-almost 18 in this au.

★ As mentioned in Through The Good Times And The Bad, you moved to the trailer park when you were twelve. However, Daryl definitely didn't approach you first. You had to go up to him and start talking to him.

★ You were exploring the woods behind the trailer park when you stumbled upon a river. There you met Daryl, and since he was the only kid there who was your age, you wanted to strike up a friendship, although it was difficult.

★ I also feel like Daryl definitely didn't talk during the first few weeks when you went up to him. With Merle and his father constantly ruining his self-esteem, he was sure that you would recognise what a screw up he was and head for the hills.

★ However, when a month passed with you showing up at the river and keeping him company, he found himself looking forward to seeing you, and with that knowledge, he slowly started warming up to you.

★ The first time he ever spoke a word to you was when you accidentally slipped on a wet rock and fell into the river. He snorted a laugh at your predicament, and couldn't resist the urge to tease you.

★ “Careful. Heard the rocks in the river ain't exactly dry.”

★ You had laughed at him and splashed some water at him, and that was the start of your friendship.

★ Although you quickly became close friends, it took almost two years for him to start opening up about his father.

★ His father's beatings had started to become way worse and he started leaving more visible marks, resulting in questioning glances from you, though you never pressed for answers. That made him feel comfortable enough to gradually start opening up to you.

★ By the time you were both 15, you knew all about his father, Daryl's past with his mother committing suicide and his asshole of a brother.

★ This is definitely the "she fell first, he fell harder" trope.

★ You had started crushing on him when you were 14. However, Daryl only started acknowledging his own feelings for you when he was 16 and you had saved up to get him a gift for his birthday.

★ His feelings had smacked him right in the face, and the rest is history.

★ Moving away from you and Daryl for now, it's pretty clear that your mom is yours and Daryl's number one shipper.

★ She knows about Daryl's abuse, but not to the extent that you do. She only knows the "basics", so to speak.

★ She's offered to talk to social services for him, but Daryl had refused, so she offered for him to stay over whenever he needed to.

★ She totally already sees Daryl as her son-in-law. She knows for a fact that you and Daryl are meant to be together, even if you're only teenagers.

★ This might only be me, but I headcannon that your mom in this was a teen mom—she got pregnant during her senior year in highschool.

★ She's implied to be a single mom, so the dad split when he found out she was pregnant.

★ She lived with her parents to raise you until you were 6. Her parents eventually kicked the two of you out and you've been in and out of multiple crappy apartments before settling on the trailer park.

★ She's the type of mom who tries to give you the freedom you desire while still being strict. Hence the "if anything happens, be sure to use protection" jokes. She knows she can't stop you from doing that, but she can ensure that you don't make her mistakes.

★ She definitely "secretly" buys condoms for you and Daryl.

★ During the first few months of your relationship, she noticed that the box remained untouched. Knowing Daryl's shyness, she knew that it wasn't because you and him were having unprotected sex. The two of you weren't like that.

★ When she noticed after a couple of months that there was finally one gone, she couldn't help the teasing she bestowed on you when Daryl went home.

★ She has met his father a number of times. The man has hit on her more times than one, completely unaware that she knew his son. However, since she was aware of the abuse, she's told him to "fuck off" every time.

—

I have so many more! If y'all want a part two, let me know!

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.