#I don’t get the news about my results yet

[jeon-s-sins]

Fighter — Four

Synopsis: YN, a young student in her final year of a master’s degree in international business, is forced to move. She is in a “bad” part of Seoul, without much income. Prostitution, drugs, and violence are commonplace, and the police think twice before setting foot in the area. Jungkook, a young student living alone in this cruel world, is forced to fight underground to earn money to pay for his rent and expensive studies. Unfortunately, the two young people meet in a very inconvenient situation and will see their lives change overnight.

Warning: Mention of alcohol, violence (fight), bad words. You will discover the rest as you read, and there will be no spoilers. 😉

Word count: 7.1 k

Chapter song: Bumpy Ride by Mohombi 

n/a: English is not my first language, so I may have missed some mistakes while proofreading. It took a long time, but it’s finally here! I had a lot of fun writing this part, and I hope you enjoy it. Enjoy reading, and please don’t forget to vote, comment, and ask questions if there are any. 😁.

Translations, republications, and rewritings of my stories are not allowed. Failure to comply with this request will result in legal action.

©Jeon_s_Sins

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Spring was timidly announcing its return, gradually erasing the traces of winter. The days were slowly getting longer, and the golden twilight light warmed the still-chilly streets. The trees, which had lost their leaves months ago, were now adorned with delicate young buds, promising new blooms. Outside your home, the cherry trees, though not bearing fruit, blossomed majestically, spreading a soft fragrance in the fresh air. Under the gentle breeze, the subtle scent of the flowers filled the atmosphere, creating an almost idyllic, soothing scene, as if nature itself was whispering that everything would be alright.

Since moving into this new neighborhood, you had established a little routine. Every evening, you would climb up to the roof of your building, which you had carefully set up as a real sanctuary. A place where you would retreat with your beer cans, your music, your phone, and of course, your journal. It was your space of peace, a place where you could jot down your thoughts on paper without worrying about the rest of the world. Yet lately, one name kept appearing in your writings: Jungkook.

Ever since your kiss two weeks ago, you hadn’t been able to forget him. His lips against yours, that burning and fleeting contact, that moment suspended in time. But after that gesture, there had been nothing. No call, no message, nothing. Why did he kiss you that night? And why the silence since? These questions kept swirling in your mind. Every day, you secretly hoped he would show up at your door, unexpectedly, like in those silly romantic movies where the hero comes to confess his feelings. But things like that never happen in real life, do they?

A sigh escaped your lips. You were surprised at yourself for being so frustrated by his silence. After all, he was nothing to you, just a stranger you had met under unexpected circumstances. Yet the thought that he might be ignoring that shared moment drove you crazy. He could have at least been mature and clarified things. But no. He had chosen to disappear into the shadows, leaving you with doubts and questions.

“If he prefers to play childish games and avoid reality, that’s his problem,” you told yourself, scribbling mindlessly in your journal. After all, you had no intention of chasing after him. You had your pride, and if he couldn’t see the value in what you had shared, then too bad for him.

The evening seemed to be following the same course as the previous ones. You, on the roof, pen in hand, lost in your thoughts, letting the music soothe you. Then something caught your attention. Down below, a familiar car pulled up: Jungkook’s black Mercedes Benz. Normally, that kind of detail wouldn’t have stood out to you. But tonight, he wasn’t alone.

A woman got out of the passenger side. You couldn’t immediately make out her face, but her fiery red hair immediately caught your eye. It framed a delicate face that you could only partially see from this distance. She was tall, slender, almost as tall as Jungkook, whereas you were much smaller in comparison. Her graceful silhouette and elegant clothes set her apart from the other women in the neighborhood. She had that sophisticated look, almost out of place in this modest part of the city, like a bright star in a sky too dull for her.

Your heart clenched slightly. Who was she? You got lost in endless speculations. Had they been together for a long time? Why had you never seen her before? As you watched them, they quickly passed through Jungkook’s apartment door, out of your direct line of sight. But you could see them through the windows, in the living room. As soon as they entered, the redhead threw herself on him, her actions leaving no room for doubt. It was clear they hadn’t met up to talk over coffee.

Meanwhile, Jungkook felt trapped. He didn’t really know this girl, Sony. They had met during a university outing organized by their graphic design professor just a week ago. Although he found her attractive, she was nothing more than a distraction. A distraction from you.

Ever since that kiss you shared, you had haunted him. Day and night. Whether he was in class, training, or even during his morning jogs, you were always there, present in his mind. That simple thought drove him insane. He tried to escape you, to erase you from his memory, but nothing worked. Every memory of your time together replayed over and over, like a poison he couldn’t expel. Even in his dreams, you were there. He dreamed of that kiss, of that unfinished passion, but in his dreams, things went much further. What you hadn’t completed that night, his mind kept prolonging, imagining you in embraces neither of you had dared to share. And every morning, the frustration only grew.

He had promised himself not to give in, not to succumb to the insidious desire to see you again. But he failed, a little more every day. That night, when he came home after your kiss, he cursed himself for ending that magical moment. But deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do. You weren’t in a clear state of mind, and he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. Still, that rational decision only fueled the fire burning inside him. He wanted you. You were the only remedy for his unease, the only person who could soothe him. But that was precisely why he forbade himself from giving in to you.

Sony was just an escape. A desperate attempt to flee from the obsession he had for you. But as she pressed against him, her lips seeking his, his mind kept drifting back to you. It was you he wanted. Not her. You, with your smiles, your strength, and your vulnerabilities. And he couldn’t do anything about it.

Meanwhile, from your perch, you watched the scene, helpless. A dull pain filled your heart as you observed Jungkook with this other woman. Every gesture, every caress exchanged between them felt like a dagger. Why did it affect you so much? You were nothing to each other, and yet, you felt betrayed, as if something precious had been taken from you.

But soon, you found yourself feeling a certain smug satisfaction. When the redhead, visibly frustrated, slapped Jungkook, you couldn’t help but laugh. Whatever he had done, he deserved it. And in a way, it eased your pain. Seeing him in this situation gave you a strange sense of revenge, even if you had no right to feel that way.

The door to Jungkook’s apartment slammed shut behind Sony, echoing through the quiet street. She stormed out, visibly furious. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she quickly walked away, head held high, but her movements betrayed a palpable frustration. Her lips were tightly pressed, her piercing gaze fixed straight ahead—everything about her screamed that she considered the evening a waste of time. A ruined night, no doubt.

You, still perched on the rooftop of your building, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene. Your eyes followed Sony until she disappeared around the corner. Something inside you burned with curiosity. Why had she slapped him so hard? What could have possibly happened between them to trigger such a reaction? But you knew all too well that it was a question without an answer, a mystery you would probably never solve.

Your gaze then shifted back to Jungkook, still visibly stunned. He was quickly getting dressed, as if trying to erase any trace of what had just happened. His movements were swift, almost mechanical, but his face displayed a confused expression. Seeing him like this evoked contradictory feelings in you. You were amused, but also troubled by not understanding what had really taken place.

You watched him closely as he opened the window, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. A familiar gesture, almost routine. He took one out, lit it with a sharp flick, and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs. The cigarette, despite its obvious dangers, seemed to be his refuge, his way of releasing the pressure, especially after days like this. You could almost see the tension leaving his body with every puff.

Then, just like every evening, his gaze fell on you. He wasn’t really surprised to see you there, in your usual spot, sitting on the rooftop railing, headphones in your ears, one hand holding your phone to capture the sunset. It had become a sort of ritual between the two of you, even if neither of you acknowledged it. Every evening, you were there, faithful to your routine, immortalizing the same moment, at the same time, as if that precise moment held a significance only you could understand.

Every time he saw you like that, a wave of questions washed over him. Why this obsession with sunsets? What are you trying to capture with such devotion? And most of all, what do you write in that notebook that you never leave behind? But tonight, he noticed something different. Unlike usual, your focus wasn’t on the scenery or your journal. Your eyes were locked on him.

You had seen him notice you, but instead of looking away, you burst out laughing. An uncontrollable, almost hysterical laugh that echoed in the stillness of the evening. The scene you had just witnessed—Sony slapping him and storming out of his apartment—kept replaying in your mind, making you laugh again. Every attempt to catch your breath failed, and your laughter started up once more. And now that he was watching you from his window, it only made the situation even more hilarious.

Jungkook, a bit perplexed by your reaction, pulled his phone from the back pocket of his pants. Without thinking, he searched for your name in his contacts and pressed “Call.” When you saw the name “Quasimodo” flash on your screen—a nickname you had given him in a moment of mockery—you couldn’t help but smile even wider.

You answered the call, your laughter barely subsiding.

“So, you’re spying on me now, princess?” Jungkook teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his voice laced with mischief.

“So, you’re a bad lay?” you shot back, playing along, bursting into laughter.

Jungkook grinned, trying to defend his ego. “More like I was too good for her.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep tonight, champ,” you retorted, laughing again, the image of the slap playing on repeat in your mind.

He didn’t reply right away, just watching you with an amused glint in his eyes, listening to the sound of your laughter—a melody that, despite himself, got to him. That laugh, he thought, made you even more beautiful. The more he watched you, the more captivated he felt by your charm, a feeling he would have preferred to avoid. But soon, your laughter faded, leaving a more serious expression on your face, a veil of irony making you furrow your brows.

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your phone or my number,” you quipped, catching your breath.

“What, you’re saying you missed me?” he replied, his mocking tone poorly masking a deeper interest.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Quasimodo, but that’s not the case.” A lie, of course. You simply couldn’t afford to tell him the truth. Not to him, not now. That would be insane.

In your mind, Jungkook was still just like any other man. He probably saw women as fleeting distractions, temporary conquests to satisfy his desires. His date with the redhead earlier in the evening only confirmed that theory. You were determined not to become just another passing chapter in his life. You refused to be just another girl he’d use and then forget as soon as she was gone.

Anger bubbled inside you, a burning fire behind your calm exterior. You clenched your fists, rekindling an inner resolve. There was no way you’d let yourself be trapped by his devastating charm, as tempting as it was. You were worth more than that. You kept repeating it to yourself, as if trying to convince yourself. No matter the temptation or confusion, you refused to lose control. Your heart was at stake, and you weren’t ready to let it fall into his hands.

“You’re the one lying to yourself, gorgeous,” he said teasingly. “I’m sure you can’t stop thinking about our kiss.” His words were like a blade, stirring up a truth you weren’t ready to face.

“Don’t worry, babe, I have that effect on women all the time.” His tone was arrogant, almost proud of that confession. Bastard. He was proud of it?

Your blood boiled. His words were enough to make you lose your cool. You slammed your journal and printer onto the railing with a sharp motion, standing up to your full height. He knew exactly how to push your buttons and get under your skin.

“I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time with you,” you spat before hanging up on him.

In ten minutes, Jungkook had just been rejected by two women.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered under his breath, still holding the phone in his hand. A part of him wanted to dial your number again, to call you back and try to clear things up. But he knew you wouldn’t pick up. Making excuses wouldn’t fix anything, and deep down, he knew that.

After all, what was the point? He didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Certainly not to you. Yet, despite himself, you occupied his thoughts in an obsessive way. Even from a distance, without realizing it, you were taking over his mind. He had to get you out of there. It wasn’t an option anymore—it was a necessity. Jungkook had never imagined that the only way to forget you would be to lose himself in the arms of other women. It was a path he hadn’t thought he’d explore so easily.

Despite his bad-boy image, Jungkook wasn’t really that kind of guy. The idea of spending every night with one-night stands didn’t appeal to him, but these past few days, he couldn’t see any other solution. Where else could he find what he was looking for if not at the Den? A place where emotions drowned in alcohol, sweat, and fleeting pleasures.

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to let the night get to him. Without wasting any more time, Jungkook headed for the shower. Cold water slid over his skin, washing away the heat of his accumulated frustration. Once ready, he threw on dark jeans and an open shirt over a t-shirt before leaving his apartment.

Tonight, he’d go back to where everything seemed simpler. Where he could lose himself and, with a bit of luck, forget you for a few hours. He headed for the Den, the only place in the neighborhood that mixed illegality with a brutal, almost liberating freedom. And at this hour, he knew you probably wouldn’t be there, which made things easier.

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A few hours had passed, and it seemed you had the same idea as your neighbor across the street: to clear your mind. It had been about thirty minutes since you arrived at the Den’s bar, a drink in hand, as if holding onto that glass could help you push away the turmoil stirring inside you.

You had come here with one goal in mind: to erase from your memory the scene that kept playing over and over, consuming you from the inside. The only way to do that was to bury it under layers of forgetfulness, even if only temporary. The noisy atmosphere of the bar was perhaps exactly what you needed.

During your work hours at the Den, you had noticed that, on nights without fights, the place turned into a sort of makeshift nightclub. The fighting cage was disassembled and stored away, leaving more room for dancers, and the bar quickly filled up. Tonight was one of those nights.

You weren’t working tonight. You had earned two well-deserved days off, but that didn’t stop you from lending a hand to your coworkers when the bar got overcrowded. It wasn’t a chore for you; in fact, you could take advantage of it to refill your own drink.

Besides Minjun, Sohan, and Jungkook, you didn’t know anyone else in this neighborhood. Yet, despite your short time at this place, Minjun and Sohan had become protective of you. It was reassuring, almost comforting, as if you had finally found the big brothers you never had. For the first time, you were experiencing what it felt like to have people who genuinely cared about you.

“Don’t wander off too far,” Sohan called out as you left the bar to blend into the crowd of dancers.

“We want to keep an eye on you. There are plenty of crazies here,” Minjun added. “And always watch your drink!” he shouted over the noise of the music.

In response, you flashed them a smile and gave them a thumbs-up. Then, the melody of “Bumpy Ride” by Mohombi filled the room, taking you back to a time when everything was simpler, lighter.

You remembered those afternoons in high school when, even though you didn’t like sports, you found refuge in dance, a passion that had been born during your stay at the orphanage. Dancing had always set you free, and tonight, you let yourself be carried away by the music.

Ignoring your coworkers’ advice, you made your way to the speakers, letting the bass thrum through your body. Nostalgia mixed with excitement as memories of a school dance competition, won to the sound of this very song, resurfaced.

Meanwhile, Minjun was watching the crowd intently, looking for you. Unsurprisingly, you hadn’t followed his recommendations. He wasn’t even surprised.

“Jungkook, man. What are you doing here?” Sohan was the first to notice your neighbor, sitting at his usual spot at the bar.

“I need to clear my head,” Jungkook replied, not inclined to give details.

“Tough day?” Minjun asked, joining the conversation now that the line had thinned out.

“You could say that,” Jungkook answered in a weary tone.

“So, what’ll it be?” Sohan asked, ready to serve his regular customer.

“The usual.” Jungkook was counting on a glass of whiskey to try and push you out of his mind, or at least to gather the courage to face a night that wouldn’t end alone.

“Coming right up.” Sohan started preparing Jungkook’s drink while Minjun scanned the crowd, searching for you.

“You good, man?” Jungkook asked, noticing Minjun’s concern.

“No, she’s acting up again,” Minjun muttered, more to himself than to his friend, but nothing escaped Jungkook.

“Who are you talking about?” Sohan inquired, setting Jungkook’s drink in front of him.

“She didn’t listen to us, man. As usual, she’s doing whatever she wants,” Minjun sighed.

Jungkook frowned, confused. Who were they talking about? Minjun would never let his sisters come to a place like the Den, and as far as Jungkook knew, there was no other woman in his life. So who could it be?

Sohan spotted something in the crowd and muttered, “Damn it… Don’t move, I’ll go get her.” Then he disappeared into the crowd.

Jungkook, still curious, didn’t wait any longer. “Who are you talking about?” he finally asked Minjun.

He wasn’t expecting the answer he received: your name. The very person he had hoped to forget for the night had reappeared, inevitably.

You were everywhere, even in the place where he had hoped to escape you.

You kept dancing, letting the music pulse through your entire body. The DJ that night was doing an incredible job, mixing recent hits with 2000s classics that got everyone moving. Rihanna, Beyoncé, Cascada, The Black Eyed Peas, The Pussycat Dolls… each track seemed better than the last, and you let yourself completely lose yourself in the rhythm.

You had even found a dance partner. Not that it was a particularly enlightened or well-thought-out decision, but you only knew him from the fights. After all, you came here to clear your head, and if the night ended in a one-night stand, why not with him? Maybe that would finally help you get Jungkook out of your thoughts.

Your dance partner was none other than Shin Jung-Ho, aka “Bazooka,” Jungkook’s sworn rival, aka “Bullet Fists.” And honestly, the guy wasn’t unpleasant to look at. Jung-Ho stood at 1.78 meters, and his imposing build immediately drew attention. His body, sculpted by years of physical training, spoke of his strength and toughness. His pale skin contrasted with his jet-black hair, cut short, and his dark eyes, almost hypnotic. But what caught your eye the most was the linear scar running across his left eye, a remnant of a past battle… and not just any battle. It came from a fight against Jungkook. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

“So, how about we get out of here? My place is just around the corner,” Jung-Ho murmured, his face dangerously close to yours. His lips were on the verge of finding yours, and you were ready to let the kiss happen, maybe just to defy yourself.

You nodded, ready to follow his invitation, but the moment was short-lived. Out of nowhere, Sohan appeared through the crowd, visibly furious. He shoved Jung-Ho away from you before grabbing your hand tightly, positioning himself between the two of you like a shield.

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” he growled, his dark gaze locked on Jung-Ho. You had never seen Sohan in such a state, not even with the worst customers at the bar.

Jung-Ho smirked, taunting. “That’s not for you to decide, buddy. She seemed pretty on board with me, right, babe?” He looked at you, waiting for your confirmation.

“Yeah,” you replied almost mechanically, which only made Jung-Ho smile wider.

Sohan’s grip on your hand tightened, almost to the point of hurting. “Shut up, YN,” he said coldly, his voice barely restrained.

You were on the verge of protesting, shocked by the way he spoke to you, but he cut you off with a look so intense it immediately dissuaded you from arguing. Then he turned his attention back to Jung-Ho.

“Listen to me, man,” Sohan said, emphasizing each word. “You’re not getting near her again, got it?”

Without waiting for a response, Sohan turned around, dragging you behind him through the crowd, his hand still firmly gripping yours, leaving you no chance to protest or look back.

You were furious, perplexed, and slightly amused by how things had unfolded. Sohan, usually so calm and protective, had just shown a side of himself you had never seen before. The walk back to the bar felt endless, and while your hand remained firmly held in his, you couldn’t help but wonder what had triggered such a reaction in him.

Sohan dragged you firmly to the bar, where Minjun and Jungkook were deep in conversation, Jungkook’s gaze dark and intense. You hadn’t even noticed Jungkook’s presence, too focused on Sohan’s grip and your own frustration at being pulled along like a misbehaving child.

Once at the counter, Sohan practically forced you to sit on one of the tall chairs, right next to Jungkook. The cold touch of the wood against your bare skin made you shiver, and it was only then that you noticed your neighbor, sitting right beside you. His gaze was intense, fixed on you, but he said nothing. Yet, you could feel the palpable tension in the air.

Before you could protest, Sohan stood in front of you, arms crossed, looking furious.

“What the hell were you thinking, YN?” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Dancing with Jung-Ho? And worse, you were ready to leave with him! Have you lost your mind?”

Minjun, who had turned toward you after hearing those words, also frowned. “Wait, what?” Minjun was shocked to hear what his friend just said. And like him, he wasn’t pleased at all. He knew very well that, like the rest of them, you were aware of the type of man Jung-Ho was. Since you’d been working at the Den, you had witnessed firsthand the harm he caused with women on numerous occasions.

“Sohan’s right, YN. Jung-Ho is not someone you should be hanging out with, let alone going anywhere with. You know exactly what kind of guy he is. That was stupid, really.”

Minjun’s scolding tone, combined with Sohan’s exasperation, made you feel like a child being chastised. Shame washed over you for a moment, but it didn’t seem fair. You were perfectly capable of making your own decisions, whether good or bad.

But what surprised you the most was Jungkook’s reaction. He remained silent, but you could almost see his fists clenching, his jaw tightening. Something in his demeanor had shifted. He said nothing, but his silence was deafening, and his gaze, more piercing than ever, seemed to betray something deeper: jealousy.

Before you could respond, a deep, arrogant voice sounded behind you.

“Oh, I see you’re getting scolded like a little kid, YN,” Jung-Ho said as he approached the bar, a smug grin on his lips. He spoke directly to you, ignoring the others. “You’re really going to let them control you like that? It’s your life, right? If you wanted to leave with me, that was your choice. No need for a bunch of wannabe big brothers to tell you what to do.”

Jung-Ho’s provocative tone instantly put everyone on edge. Sohan stood up straighter, ready to respond, but before he could open his mouth, it was Jungkook who suddenly rose from his seat, his dark eyes burning with cold anger.

“I think you’ve misunderstood something, Jung-Ho,” Jungkook said in a dangerously low voice. “YN doesn’t need your advice. She knows exactly what’s good for her, and leaving with a jerk like you isn’t part of it.”

Jung-Ho chuckled, unphased by the threat. He took a step closer, locking eyes with Jungkook.

“Oh really, Jungkook? Because all I see is a guy who can’t even admit he’s dying of jealousy. Stop pretending—it’s not about her, it’s about you.”

That was the last straw for Jungkook. In a split second, his fist flew toward Jung-Ho, landing a controlled but violent punch to his jaw. The room seemed to freeze for a moment before Jung-Ho retaliated, shoving Jungkook backward and throwing a punch of his own.

The fight erupted in brutal force. The two men exchanged blows with palpable precision and rage, forcing the customers around them to step back. The bar quickly turned into a battleground.

Sohan and Minjun tried to intervene, but the strength and speed of both fighters made it difficult to break up the fight. Jung-Ho, clearly drunk on rage, wasn’t ready to back down. But Jungkook, fueled by a jealousy he refused to admit, fought with cold determination, his entire body tense with every movement.

“Stop!” you screamed, your voice lost in the chaos of the brawl. But neither Jungkook nor Jung-Ho seemed to hear you, too focused on their relentless struggle.

As Jung-Ho tried to pin Jungkook against the counter, Jungkook broke free with surprising agility, delivering a powerful punch to Jung-Ho’s gut. Jung-Ho collapsed momentarily from the blow, struggling to catch his breath.

Before things could escalate further, Sohan and Minjun managed to separate the two men, holding Jungkook back while Jung-Ho, still winded, tried to regain his composure.

Silence finally fell over the bar, and all eyes turned to you. Jungkook, breathing heavily, looked at you, his eyes still blazing with anger. A silent question seemed to hang in the air: “Why him?”

As for Jung-Ho, his smug smile had vanished, replaced by a grimace of pain and frustration.

The tension was thick, and you knew what had just happened would have consequences.

The Den’s security guards, alerted by the growing noise of the fight, quickly approached. Two of them grabbed Jung-Ho, still groggy from Jungkook’s last punch, and dragged him roughly out of the bar. Jung-Ho, though clearly still in shock, tried to struggle, throwing one last dark glance in Jungkook’s direction before disappearing into the agitated crowd.

“Alright, calm down now,” Sohan growled, stepping between you and Jungkook, while Minjun approached, trying to contain the palpable tension in the air. “YN, we agreed you’d keep a low profile tonight. What the hell were you thinking, dancing with that idiot?”

You threw your hands up in frustration, nerves on edge. “Stop telling me what to do, Sohan! I don’t need to be treated like a kid. If I want to dance with whoever I want, it’s my choice.”

Sohan frowned, but before he could reply, it was Jungkook who cut in, his voice sharp.

“Dancing with him?” he spat. “You were this close to leaving with that guy, YN. Do you even realize how stupid that was? Or are you just blind?”

You turned toward him, your eyes blazing. “So what? Why do you even care, Jungkook? Since when do you give a damn about what I do or who I leave with?”

“Since you can’t seem to see the real assholes in front of you,” Jungkook shot back, raising his voice, stepping closer to you, his fists still clenched. “Jung-Ho is trash. He doesn’t respect you. You’re just a game to him, YN. And it makes me sick that you don’t even see it.”

Jungkook’s words were filled with jealousy, and something inside you flared even hotter.

“Oh, and you’re any better?” you retorted, your voice vibrating with anger. “You show up here after bringing that redhead to your place, and now you come here to lecture me?”

Jungkook flinched at the mention of the previous night, but he didn’t respond right away. You continued, your eyes glistening with rage.

“You’re no different from Jung-Ho. You both play with women, treat them like toys. So stop being a hypocrite—it’s pathetic!”

Minjun tried to step between you, raising his hands to de-escalate the situation. “Okay, enough, stop. We don’t need this here. Let’s all take a step back, calm down…”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off sharply, his gaze still locked on you. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks I’m like them? She thinks all of this is just a game for me?”

“Maybe because you never show anything!” you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion. “You kiss me, leave me with all these questions, and then nothing! Nothing! And now you come here and tell me what to do? Are you kidding me?”

Sohan, sensing the situation spiraling out of control, placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Bro, let it go, this is gonna get ugly…”

But it was too late. Jungkook’s frustration was overflowing, his eyes burning with something deeper than simple anger.

“You want to know why I’m like this, YN?” he ground out through clenched teeth, his voice low, almost a growl. “You really want to know? Because you drive me insane.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say another word, Jungkook closed the distance between you in a split second. His hands gripped your face tightly, and before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed into yours in a brutal kiss, filled with passion, frustration, and a kind of desperate intensity.

The shock left you frozen for a moment, but soon, you felt that familiar warmth, that fire that consumed you both. His lips were hard against yours, his hands still firmly on your face, as if he feared you’d slip away. Every movement of his mouth against yours was laced with urgency, anger, and an uncontrollable desire.

Minjun and Sohan exchanged bewildered glances, but neither of them dared intervene this time. The tension between you and Jungkook had reached a breaking point.

When Jungkook finally pulled his lips from yours, he stayed just inches away, his breath ragged, his eyes still blazing with that intensity you had never seen in him before.

Stunned by the sudden kiss, you remained motionless, your thoughts swirling in a silent chaos. The world around you seemed to have stopped, the intensity of the moment rooting you in place. You could still feel the pressure of his lips on yours—brutal and desperate. But it was the shocked looks of Sohan and Minjun, frozen in surprise, that brought you back to reality. The burn of embarrassment rose within you, mixing with a fury that made your heart pound in your chest.

Without thinking, your hand flew up and slapped Jungkook across the face in an instinctive reaction. The sound of the slap echoed in the tense air of the Den.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, Jungkook!” you shouted, your voice trembling with anger and confusion. Without giving him a chance to respond, you spun around and stormed toward the exit, your footsteps pounding the floor as you fled the scene.

The cool night air wrapped around you immediately, but it did little to extinguish the fire burning inside you. Breathing hard, you walked quickly, your mind swirling with humiliation, confusion, and the strange feeling left behind by that stolen kiss.

“YN, wait!” Jungkook’s voice chased after you in the night, his hurried footsteps echoing behind you.

You quickened your pace, but he caught up to you quickly, grabbing your arm to stop you. You yanked your arm free from his grip, your eyes blazing with anger as they met his.

“Let go of me, Jungkook!” you hissed, breathless. “You think you can just get away with that? After everything that happened tonight?”

Jungkook, still panting from the chase, shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and regret. “YN, that’s not… I didn’t think… but you don’t understand! You drive me crazy!”

“Crazy? I drive you crazy?” you shot back, your anger flaring up again. “And that gives you the right to kiss me like you own me? Who do you think you are?”

The empty street was the silent witness to this confrontation, the night wind gently rustling the leaves of the trees as your voices echoed in the air.

“No, it’s not that,” he tried to explain, his eyes searching yours. “You don’t understand, YN. I’m on the verge of losing it. Knowing you danced with Jung-Ho, knowing you even considered leaving with him… You have no idea what that does to me.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about now?” you spat bitterly. “You think you have some claim over me? You think you can tell me who I can or can’t dance with? Look at yourself! You bring girls home and then come here to tell me what I should do? What a joke, Jungkook. You’re pathetic.”

His jaw clenched at the provocation, but he remained silent for a moment, clearly trying to control the storm raging inside him. “Okay, correction, it wasn’t ‘girls,’ just the redhead,” he tried to justify, but for you, it was just a detail. Deep down, it didn’t change anything. “And it’s not the same, YN. I know I screwed up, but what I feel for you… what I feel is real.”

Your gaze hardened. “Oh yeah? Because what you feel is ‘real,’ I should forgive you, is that it? Jungkook, you have no idea what you want. One minute you kiss me, the next you ignore me. You leave me hanging, trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do or feel. You’re playing with me, and I’ve had enough.”

Silence fell between you, broken only by your quickened breaths. Jungkook seemed like he wanted to say something, but his words got lost in the flood of emotions boiling inside him.

“YN, I… I know I’ve complicated everything. But I… I don’t want to lose you, without ever even having had you,” he finally murmured, his voice broken.

You shook your head, your heart heavy with confusion. “And yet, that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Turning on your heel, you started walking toward your apartments, Jungkook trailing behind you. The dark night felt oppressive, and despite the calm outside, the emotional storm raging within you was overwhelming.

“What do you want me to do, YN? Let you leave with a guy like Jung-Ho? Pretend I don’t care about you, despite myself and all my efforts?” he exclaimed, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“What I want, Jungkook, is for you to stop playing this back-and-forth game. If you want something, be clear. But don’t do this to me. Don’t kiss me just to prove something to yourself, and don’t act like I’m just another option in your life.”

He stopped, realizing the gravity of your words, the weight of what you were saying. And suddenly, in the silence of the street, it was as if the world around you both was collapsing.

You gave him one last look, your heart heavy. “You can’t do this to me, Jungkook. Not again.”

Then, without another word, you turned the corner and walked away, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts, his gaze lost in the starry night.

Jungkook stands frozen, rooted to the spot as you turn the corner, disappearing into the night. His fists clench, and his mind races, battling both the frustration and the weight of his own mistakes. He wanted to run after you, to catch up with you, but he felt like his words would only make things worse.

He remains there, silent, while the echo of your last words still rings in his head. “You can’t do this to me, Jungkook. Not again.” A wave of guilt washes over him. He finally realizes just how much he’s been playing with your emotions without truly understanding it.

Despite his urge to follow you once more, he takes a deep breath, replaying every detail of the night. His thoughts are loud, confused, but one thing is clear: he never wanted to hurt you like this. Not you. Not the only person who seems capable of making him feel this way.

Meanwhile, you keep walking, tears silently streaming down your cheeks. The weight of everything you’ve just experienced overwhelms you, and you try to convince yourself that walking away is the best thing to do. Your footsteps echo in the empty street, and even though you’re walking quickly, each step feels like it’s bringing you closer to the edge of breaking down.

You can’t stop thinking about what just happened. That kiss, as brutal and passionate as it was, caught you off guard. You had felt that same fire between you two, but this time, it was different. This time, there was something deeper behind that gesture. Frustration, jealousy, but also… love, or at least something close to it.

Suddenly, you stop dead in your tracks in the middle of the street. Part of you wants to run, but the other part begs you not to give up hope. You turn around, scanning the street behind you. Jungkook is no longer there. Your heart sinks at the realization, but a part of you feels relieved.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your frantic heartbeat. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe you’re just too different, that this burning desire that consumes you both will end up destroying everything.

As you slowly head toward home, the sound of hurried footsteps behind you makes you jump. You turn around, and there he is. Jungkook. He’s standing there, breathless, as if he ran to catch up with you. His hair is disheveled, his clothes wrinkled, but that same intensity still burns in his eyes.

“YN…” he begins, his voice hoarse with fatigue and emotion. “I… I can’t let you go like this. Not again.”

You remain still, torn between wanting to scream at him and wanting to listen, to understand what he truly feels. But your lips stay sealed, your heart pounding harder with every word he speaks.

For a moment, you saw him running toward you, as if the devil himself were chasing him. And the next, you were hit full force by his gesture, even more confused than you already were. Before you could react, you found yourself in his arms again, his mouth pressed against yours, desperately trying to draw a response from you. For a moment, you stood frozen, in shock. Then, despite yourself, you responded. A brief instant where everything around you collapsed, and you finally understood the true meaning of the phrase “The flesh is weak.” Yours was no exception.

It had been two weeks since you last heard from him. Two weeks of growing frustration, of pent-up desire. And in the span of a few minutes, your lips found each other again, in a kiss that was both passionate and desperate. But beneath that passion, there was a simmering anger, a palpable tension between the two of you.

Your emotions, though distinct, reflected each other strangely. Jungkook was furious. Furious with you, for your lack of judgment, for your lack of self-respect. How could you even consider leaving with someone like Jung-Ho? Anyone with half a brain could see how toxic that man was. And you knew that. You weren’t stupid. So why had you even entertained the idea of sleeping with him? But his frustration was also aimed at himself. He had sworn to stay away from you, not to get caught up in this whirlwind of emotions. And yet, here he was, chasing after you again, unable to let you go.

As for you, your anger was boiling over. How dare he, after ignoring you for days, act like some jealous, possessive man? How could he treat you like that, in front of your friends, at your workplace, when he had been avoiding you like the plague just days earlier? He had no right over you, over your actions, over your choices. Yes, you had made a mistake in choosing Jung-Ho as a distraction, but you just wanted to free yourself from the hold Jungkook had on you. And you were willing to do anything to make that happen.

But what was eating away at you even more was yourself. How could you be so weak? How could you give in to his kiss, not once, but twice, after everything he had put you through? You had promised yourself you wouldn’t become just another conquest in his long list. And yet, here you were, doing exactly what you swore you’d never do. Were you a masochist, or just desperate?

Finally, in a moment of clarity, you did the only thing that seemed logical. You abruptly broke the kiss. Without a word, you raised your hand and slapped him hard, feeling the heat of the impact on your palm. Then, without looking back, you turned on your heel and fled. Fled straight to your home, where you hoped to escape the emotional storm threatening to engulf you. ​

Next ⇢

n/a: I hope you enjoy this short story as much as I do. To ensure you don’t miss the progress of the chapters and their release, don’t forget to check out the Working on and Updates section. There, you’ll find updates on “Fighter” and other stories and “One Shot” that you’ll probably enjoy. Also, don’t forget to check out the Masterlist. You’ll probably find something for you among my other stories in progress and those to come.

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Taglist : @variety-is-the-joy-of-life ; @ttanniett

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© Jeon_s_Sins

[doctorsiren]

OBJECTION! - Ace Attorney, but in Legos that I 3D modeled myself

[kavehater]

The blame is on me for being sappy to her and she doesn’t even acknowledge me anymore

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [one]

the one in which you get a sex dream about the grouchy hockey player you work for.

genre : childhood best friends to frenemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.2k

chapter warnings : strong language, mature, slight smut (because im a tease), reader’s name is Destiny, jungkook is a bit grumpy towards her (she makes him nervous leave my boy alone), fat shaming (not by any of the main characters), oc had daddy issues, mentions of allergy. that’s about it, please let me know if i missed something.

a/n : here it isssssss drumrolls please because im so excited for this. jungkook as a hockey player??? *deep breaths* enjoy my lovely people. you’re so so loved. asks, reblogs and likes are much appreciated. kisses <3

read part two here

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“Babe, you know you're not going to win right? Don't be wasting your breath.” Bella challenges.

You’re sitting on the chair in your office going through the personnel file of the players. Verifying their names with their contact numbers and photographs which, you’re not going to lie, look like mugshots. Jeez, does smiling a little bit cost them? Anyways, once you’re done you close the file and look up at your assistant bickering with her boyfriend. Phone pressed against her ear. 

You mime hanging up the call and she lifts her index finger, indicating for you to wait. She throws in words like hmmm, yeah, you don’t know what you’re saying, yeah i love you too. Once she’s done, she drops the phone on the glass table in front of you and leans back in her chair. 

“He thinks I will let him get away with anything just because I love him”  

You chuckle, “What’s going on?” 

“You know, I’ve been wanting a cat for so long I even made a pinterest board for that. Last Sunday he surprised me with one and when I told him that I lowkey manifested it, he was not having it. I even showed him the mood board and I NEVER show it to anyone. Evil eye is real.” she all but cries out. 

That’s Bella for you. Highly spiritual and a firm believer of the universe. She claims that everything happens for a reason. She’s like a little ball of sunshine. Ever since you joined the Ice Dominators’ hockey team as a physical therapist, she’s been assisting you and you couldn’t be more thankful seeing the lack of female workers here. Seriously, there's no other female worker here except yourself and Bella which is so diabolical to you.

And it’s not like the men on the hockey team are a bunch of misogynist jerks. On the contrary, they act like they’ve known you for years. It didn't take you long to feel like home here. They are obedient, friendly and pretty nice. Few of them are married with kids while the rest of them remain single. They’re not like a bunch of teenagers, they know what they’re doing.

Except one, what’s his name? Jeon Jungkook. You would describe that man as crude and closed off to a pathological degree. You still remember when you asked him to come to your office so you can look at any possible previous injuries, he lied to your fucking face. Claiming he doesn’t have any when you could clearly see him hobbling sometimes just a tiny bit when he walked away. Years and years of dedication towards your studies have made you capable enough to catch that it is an old injury.

Despite your better judgment, you blamed it on the fact that his team lost the game that day. Poor guy was having a bad day and took it out on you. Big deal. 

“Earth to Destiny” Bella waves a hand close to your face and you shake your head as you look at her.

“Leave the poor man alone” You plead and then ask, “Any details about the new player? I’ll have to add it in the file” 

“Not yet, as far as I know they’re still contemplating the guy named Park Jimin or something”

That gets you real quick. Park Jimin. The name feels like acid on your tongue .The last game being unsatisfactorily resulted in the federation trading one of the players. It was cruel but was done for the better. Bound to happen sooner or later. You had expected it but what you had not expected was you both sharing a same room, sharing the same air.

“Alright then. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s—”

Knock, knock

“Miss Kim, sorry to interrupt but the manager is asking for you” Taehyung’s head pokes through the door.

You stand, picking up the file and sliding it into the tableside drawer, running a free hand over your scrubs. Bella does the same as she plucks her phone from the table and puts it inside her back pocket.

You look at him. “Sure Tae, thank you for informing”

He flashes you a quick, pretty smile before leaving. Bella turns to you with a worried look on her face.

“What do you think it is for?”

You bite your lip. “I have no idea. I wanna say it's about the new player but who knows?”

You hope it is and as unfortunate as it is for you to discuss him, you will have to hold your own. You know better than to be invited into the manager’s office. Though, judging by the temperament of him you would not predict anything. Last time when he called you, it was about Jeon Jerk, asking you to be more serious about your job as if it was your fault the man spared you the necessary details.

The asshole asked YOU to do your job better by virtue of HIS player not being sweet enough to listen. Maybe, there is indeed a misogynistic asshole going around and it’s the manager. No wonder women don’t volunteer to work for him.

Since, You love your job —god knows you wanna keep doing it— you kept quiet and took every jab he threw at you.

“Wait, Do I have time to pray? Should I pray?” she’s clearly panicking and you pat her on the shoulder.

“Just hope my job is still intact” you say, warily reaching for your purse. You both head out.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“Miss Kim, have a seat” James nods at the chair before him.

Once you’re settled, he continues, “I asked for you to join me here regarding the upcoming game. Care to fill in about the status of injury assessment?"

You clear your throat, “Absolutely, I was planning on getting on that today” 

“Well, I would love for you to do it soon as you know we have a new player in the team with us now”

You jerk, leaning forward. “We do?”

“Yes, and if you can please hurry with the assessment I would be grateful. You can do that right? Not too much of a work for you, eh?” 

Someone give him a medal from the way he's trying to hide the venom in his voice.

“Sure I can” you give him a firm nod. 

James Adams is an entitled, self centered asshole who thinks he’s above everyone else just because of his position. You reckon he does anything for the team besides talking bullshit. He kind of reminds you of your dad who also has the nasty habit of thinking the world of himself.

You’re all about self love but when that self love turns into chronically demeaning everybody in their close proximity, it boils your blood. This man in front of you is no better than your father. What's that saying? Out of the frying pan into the fire.

So you say nothing further and excuse yourself. You would have barfed in his face if you stayed there a second longer. Actually that's not a very bad idea. Bella is standing outside waiting for you as you close the door behind yourself.

“What did he say?” 

You bark, “Bunch of horseshit” 

“Typical” 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook 

There is a buzzing noise somewhere around Jungkook. Fuck, his head hurts. He frantically searches for his phone, still not opening his eyes. When he finds it, he slides his thumb on the screen and picks up the call. 

“Dude, how big do you want your coffin to be?” He loves his best friend but right now he would rather be sleeping than listen to him bark in his own ear. 

He finally squints his eyes open, “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Have you looked at the time?” says Taehyung.

“What time- FUCK!!!” he shrieks as he looks at the clock.

Somebody kill him right now. No wait, he’s gonna die either way so why bother. If he didn’t scream loud enough before, he does now. He all but jumps off the bed when he sees the blondie on the other side sleeping like she fucking owns it, wearing nothing but a thong. She must have heard him malfunctioning because soon she stirs, groaning as she slowly wakes up like a Disney princess. Who the heck is she and how did she get in here? Then it comes to him.

“Please Jungkook just take me to your room and fuck me. Show me what those hockey hands are capable of.” 

He wants to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Speaking straight from his shoulders, he has made plenty of bad decisions throughout his career and this is not his first time bringing a puck bunny up to his room but it has never come to this. Missing his hockey practice because he was too exhausted to get his sweet ass up and run to the academy. 

Taehyung screams from the other side of the line, “Are you there? Hello?” 

Shit, he forgot he was on a call. 

“I’ll be there soon. Cover for me until then.” With that he presses the red circular button and ends the call with him muttering some curses.

He glances back at the blondie, “Why are you not gone yet?” 

She’s looking at him with those fuck me eyes she had last night but right now when he’s well aware of the fact that he’s in hot water, they don’t do shit to him. Coach will have his head on a platter today for sure. Honestly, they wouldn’t have done shit to him if it was not for the great deal of alcohol last night.

“I thought of you as a morning sex person” she twirls a strand of hair with her finger, sitting up now. Her tits hang free and he can see his hickeys decorating her chest.

He wants to laugh. She’s not even close to his type. His type is the woman in blue scrubs with her brunette hair slicked back in a ponytail. His type is the woman who looks like she could be watching grass grow rather than to look at him. His type is the woman who walks into a room and lights it up. His type is the woman who is too bright for him and his mundane personality, who has a face worth millions. His type is Kim Destiny. 

“No need to waste your precious time thinking about me. You can go” 

He places his phone back on the table and saunters over to the bathroom, not bothering looking back at her. He has boundaries and he intends to keep it that way.

He quickly goes through his routine of taking a shower, making a cup of coffee, sliding into a pair of sweatpants and the Ice Dominator’s jersey with his name on the back. Not in that order, of course.

The girl is thankfully gone by the time he finishes. Once he’s done with his coffee he picks up the car keys and a protein bar from the kitchen counter and heads to the academy hoping his limbs remain intact by the time he’s home.

The Academy is bustling as usual with players keeping themselves busy with hockey and their gym sessions. He heads straight for the rink not even bothering to change into the uniform. He needs to see for himself that everybody is still on the ice. Everything comes after that.

Surprisingly, he sees not a single guy when he reaches there. His heartbeat stops.

“Hey Pixie, where are the boys? Did they already leave?” he asks the brunette kid who looks like he just saw a ghost. Or it’s just Jungkook who he saw.

He shakes his head, “They’re all in the gym. The doc called them earlier, said she had something important to get done with them” 

Jungkook gives him a quick thanks and walks towards the gym. What could be so important that she had to call the boys mid practice? Is someone hurt? Is she hurt? His heart leaps in hid throat as he runs. Fuck, please let him be wrong.

The first thing that he sees as he enters the room full of equipment are his teammates. Taehyung and Yoongi are in the corner lifting weights, Namjoon is using the treadmill as he runs on it. The rest of the boys are all scattered around doing their own thing. He still can’t find Destiny anywhere but her assistant, Bella, is talking to Namjoon while holding a file so he lets out a sigh, relieved that nobody is in fact hurt and in need of help. 

“Do you wanna get a tattoo on the peni— oh look who’s here. Jeon Jungkook as I live and breathe.”

Taehyung drops the weight on the ground before walking up to him. He’s dressed in a black tee and sports shorts. The man looks good in everything. Bet he’d look in a sack too. 

“Whoa!! Why do you look like you wanna kill somebody or wanna get killed? Is everything okay?” 

Jungkook lets his face relax, focusing more on the eyebrows which had gone tensed due to his unnecessary anxiety. “Yeah, all’s good. The practice ended early?” 

“The practice ended just on time. It’s you who’s late” he pats my shoulder. 

He runs his fingers through his hair and walks towards the bench, dropping his bag on it. Taehyung follows him ignoring Yoongi who’s calling him back for the weightlifting. 

“Doc wanted to assess our injuries for the last time before our game if you’re curious which, I know you are. You’re always curious about her” 

He winks at Jungkook and he punches him on the chest. Taehyung laughs as he rubs the spot.

“Keep your voice down, will you?” 

Bella’s voice echoes across the room, “Jeon, you’re up next” 

He takes out his water bottle, takes a swig and stands. A wince leaves him as he gets a flashback of the last time he had to face her. It didn’t go very well and he’s sure she hates him now. He would too. After all, he not only talked to her rudely but also lied through his teeth about his injury. It’s pretty old so he had not felt the need to mention it. 

He sees a guy coming out of the office just before he’s about to enter. He has brown hair long enough to reach the nape of his neck. Even from where Jungkook’s standing, he can say the man doesn’t reach above his shoulders. Who the fuck is he? Oh wait, he must be the new player that got traded down here. The guy must have sensed him making a hole through his head by the way he’s staring because he’s begins walking towards him with a bright grin.

“Hey man, you must be Jeon Jungkook? Heard a lot about you. I’m Park Jimin” He holds out his hand, asking Jungkook to shake it and he gives it a firm handshake. Word to the wise : never give someone a weak handshake. His grandfather has been asking him to do that ever since he was 15, said it doesn’t leave a strong impression and he’s be lying if he says he was wrong.

He offers Jimin a nod, “Nice to meet you. Excited to get on the rink with you.” 

He takes his hand back. “Oh the feeling is mutual but—”

“Jungkook, please join me inside” 

Destiny’s voice cuts him off as she looks over to both of them with an eerie expression on her face. Her eyes bounce between them, resting a second longer on Jimin. Does she know him? Do they have a history? Wait, are they a thing? Even if they are, why does it bother him? Jungkook couldn’t care less about the pretty physical therapist who wears her blue scrubs like armor and white crocs with strawberries on them.

He gives Jimin another nod and follows her into the office. Although, he’s not sure if a massage table and a stool resting beside it counts as an office. The room which she works in is much better. This one is just for examinations and massage therapy so he guesses it doesn’t need that much of an upgrade.

She gestures towards the table, “Please sit”

He says nothing and settles himself up, clearing his throat.

“Look I know we got off on the wrong foot last time and it could have gone so much better, but we can still start over right?”

Destiny takes a deep breath, filling her chest with air. She’s wearing her hair in a bun today. It sits at the top of her head and some strands are set loose cascading down her face. God, she’s pretty.

He looks down and back up at her. “Sure”

Her face shows her annoyance with the one word response. He doesn't blame her. He'd be pissed too.

She’s quiet for a moment, “Why don’t you tell me about your knee injury to start with?”

“What are you talking about?”

She sighs, “You know what I’m talking about Jungkook. Please don’t make me work for it. It’s my job to know about your past and present injuries, if any. The manager has already given me crap about it”

He freezes. His hackles rising and his relaxed face long gone.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing”

He levels her with a stern face, “What.did.he.say?”

She’s not obligated to answer him. Hell, she could just slap him in the face and leave but he needs to know what went down with that son of a bitch. When and if she decides to let him in the details and it turns out something wicked, he’s gonna hunt that man down and make his life miserable.

Much to his surprise, she takes a step back and starts talking. "He called me in his office today and," she halts,

"Well let's just say there were some words thrown around which clearly meant he thinks of me as a feather brained bitch"

He might look unbothered from outside but the indignation inside him could just about burn the whole city down. He tries to keep calm and pries some more.

His jaw clenches. "What else?"

Destiny shakes her head, shuffling on her feet. “Jungkook it’s really not that seriou—”

“It is serious. You work for us, you tolerate our asses and in return if we fail to give you the respect which, you deserve by the way cause it’s the bare minimum, we might as well save everyone’s time and money by giving all of this up.”

“Why do you care?” she shakes her head.

He takes a step forward, “Because you— Because you work for us, Destiny. You look out for our bodies, our injuries, our fuckups. Is that not enough?”

She barely reaches his shoulders. It’s cute how she has to crane her neck up in order to look him in the eye. She keeps looking at him for a long minute, searching his face.

“You think I don’t know that? Do you really think I don’t have what it takes to ask for my own dignity?”

He takes a long step back. This conversation was as unforeseen as they come. The room gets filled with heavy silence and he can hear Destiny’s heavy breath. He can tell she’s trying to calm herself as if his words have blindsided her.

Needless to say she’s a tad bit taken aback. Jungkook would be too if someone who never bothered to speak a word to him and when he did, there was nothing pleasant about his tone suddenly started to care.

But that’s where she’s wrong, nothing about his care or concern for her is sudden. He still remembers the day she accidentally drank the almond smoothie Bella brought not knowing the fact that she’s allergic to it. She’d started choking the second it went down her throat. He also remembers how Yoongi injected the epipen against her thigh as she came back to life.

Meanwhile, he stood behind shaking in his goddamn boots. Too scared to let her out of his sight and too pathetic to hold her close. Yeah, he’s not proud of that.

He sighs, “You know that’s not what I meant—”

Namjoon walks inside with a hand towel around his neck “Doc, you about done? The boys are being incorrigible over there. If you don’t hurry, one of them is gonna call a tattoo artist and get their dick tattooed. Right here”

The room falls silent.

“Jesus” she looks over to where the guys are bickering about something, propping her hands on her hips. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

“Sure” and with that he walks away.

She picks up a blue file from the stool, not looking at him. Why is she not looking at him?

“If you don’t want to tell me about your injury right now, that’s fine. Since, I know it’s pretty old and It’s unlikely that you’re gonna get affected by it in the upcoming games, there’s no need to worry. However, I would still suggest you be careful. Anything can happen out there and your knee is in a vulnerable position. Don’t pick unnecessary fights, don’t let the opponent know your weak link.”

She glances at him, dropping the file back to where it was.

“You can go”

Without a preamble, he heads outside, passing Taehyung. He hears him cracking a joke about penis tattoos and piercings with his girlfriend’s name on it. Destiny cracks up and Jungkook wonders if she would have done the same, had he been the one cracking the joke. Only, he doesn’t crack jokes. Not around her at least. It’s not like he's some grumpy bastard who wants nothing to do with anybody around him and thinks of him as omniscient.

There’s just something about Destiny which puts him at loss of words. Knotting his tongue it in such a way where he can’t get an expression out. Only look at her and god, does he look at her. He's not stupid. He knows it’s a crush but she’s like a mirage to him. She’s unreachable, forbidden and so fucking beautiful.

Does he want to make her his? Yes, Is he going to risk his career and hers over it? Absolutely not. So, he makes use of the only right nobody can take away from him. Not even her. Admire her from afar. Fantasize more about tasting her, licking her slender neck and worshipping the ground that she walks on and one day if she lets him, Jungkook will do anything to turn all of that into reality.

He finds Yoongi seated on of the benches, scrolling on his phone.

Facing him, Jungkook speaks in a low voice. "Do you have any idea where James is?"

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Destiny

Never have you ever wanted to run away as much as you did when you saw Jimin in front of yourself, standing all tall and proud. You had wished it to be a dream, wished you just had a nightmare about him joining the same team you happen to work with but reality is a goddamn bitch and it bites hard when it does. He had grown out his hair longer but he still has the same smile, same eyes and the same charm he used on you back then. Park Jimin is a man people don’t ever forget once they see him. He has an aura which traps everyone so hard they can never escape. How do you know? You have been a victim yourself.

You meticulously go through the consequences and eventualities of being in the same room as him again. You seeing him everyday and him reminding you of every single detail you have tried so hard forgetting about, the boys finding out about you both and putting you through the wringer or worse, him. The possibilities are endless and you feel the sudden urge to square everything with him.

Contrary to what you had thought, he reacted pretty normally when he saw you as if somebody had already told him about you. You had expected him to get shocked or at the very least pretend to be shocked.

Having said that, he just gave you a single nod as if you're someone he passes by every morning at the park. Are you this forgettable? Are you someone people just brush aside like that? Your father’s words echo in your ears like loud drums,

“You know, nobody will love you if you keep looking like this. Eat less”

“Girl, do you ever stop eating? Every time I see you, you're stuffing something in that mouth of yours!!”

“Don’t come running back at me when no guy gives a shit about you”

You were 10 and he was an asshole. He still is.

Thanks to him, you now have a tendency to cook when you're stressed over anything. It brings you comfort and diverts your mind from the excessive overthinking. You would go bald if it puts the voices into silent mode.

After already wasting half of your life speculating what to eat, counting calories and whatnot, you came to the terms that you can’t actually operate that way and began eating whatever the fuck you wanted. Yet still, you need to go a long way in order to fully love yourself and your body. It's a journey and you're moving ahead step by step. One day at a time.

One would even say you're hot. You have received compliments from several people over the course of time except you don’t have a thigh gap, your arms jiggle and you also happen to have a love handle. You would have adored them if it wasn’t for your dad making you feel shitty about having them.

A knock on your door stops you midway as you're kneading the dough. Biscuit runs over to you, jumping on the counter.

“Coming”

The knock comes back again, this time slightly louder.

“Oh my god wait I’m coming”

The door swings open and you gasp. “Mina?”

She passes by you, dragging her suitcase along with her.

“Hey bestie”

You close the door and follow her further into the hall. “What’s going on? What’s with the suitcase?”

Your best friend’s sudden arrival must have caught you by slight surprise but your cat is rather pleased to see her. Traitor. She starts clawing at her feet excitedly.

“What a good girl you are? Yes, you are” Mina coos at her and then glances up at you from where she has biscuit nestled in her lap,

“I need a place to live for a few days because my shitty boss kept rejecting all my articles and I really wanna bring her something worth the front page. Apparently, writing about the famous coffee shop around the corner and their secret ingredient being maple syrup wasn’t good enough.”

You round the counter and continue kneading the dough for your strawberry pie. It’s not unlikely for Mina to show up unannounced. In fact, she has done that plenty of times but the suitcase was never involved. This one is new.

“So you decided to barge in here without even asking?” You tease.

She flashes you a dramatic look. “Look at us, Destiny. Aren’t we the same girls who giggled about living together after college? With matching slippers and movie marathons?”

“Okay okay you dramatic bitch. How long are you here for?”

Biscuit runs to do her business and she gets up, setting her suitcase to the side.

She sighs, “Not sure. As long as it takes me to come up with a new topic to write about–HEY— why don’t I just write on the hockey team you work with? What are they called? Ice…ice”

“Ice Dominators” you fill in for her.

She slaps her thigh. “That’s the one”

You shrug, “I mean you can, but you’ll have to call in on the coach first. He operates everything inside and outside the team”

Coach Ian is too nice to turn her request down. He’s one of the most genuine people in the federation. Maybe this is why the team is so strong and united. He respects every single boy and receives it tenfold. It's a mutual thing.

“Shit, How come I didn’t think about that” she bites her lip, her enthusiasm replaced by nervousness.

“Don’t worry. He won’t make you work for it. Ian is as nice as they come” you assure.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out. As you watch, she opens your fridge, taking out the box of frozen blueberries and pops one into her mouth.

“Do you want me to give you a hand?” she mumbles while chewing.

You point towards the bathroom, “Go and take a shower, right now. You stinky”

You duck the blueberry she throws your way, laughing as you do. Giving your cheek one last kiss, she excuses herself.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Warm hands roam over your thigh, squeezing them. You muffle your moan with your palm and take every thrust. 

“Yeah, you like that? You like how I’m pounding into this ass right now?” 

You gasp. 

“Such a good girl” he praises.

The man behind you presses a kiss to your naked shoulder as he rasps in your ears, “Were you walking around all day dripping for me?” 

He pulls his cock out and thrusts again. You meet him with equal passion and hunger. 

“Tell me” 

You nod. 

“I need your words, Destiny” 

You cry out, “Yes Oh god, Yes. I wanted you in me so bad” 

He cups your pussy and rubs your clit with his palm until you're rolling your eyes to the back of your head and squirming. Thrust after thrust he brings you to your sweet release while talking dirty things in your ear. You're about to melt into a puddle of goo. He’s got you totally at his mercy. 

“So beautiful like this. Taking my cock so well huh?” 

“Ahh it feels so good, right there. Just right there, don’t stop” 

He bites down your shoulder, “Come for me and let everyone outside hear the name you’re screaming, you dirty whore” 

Your heartbeat picks up as you squeeze him with the tight ring of muscle, orgasm crashing over. 

“FUCK. Oh my god Jungkook!!”

Your eyes fling open and you sit up so fast your head starts spinning. Everything around you is pitch black. Wait, where am you? 

Mina is at your side in an instant, “Destiny, are you okay babe?”

You look around and release a sigh of relief. You run your fingers through your hair, ruffling them. 

“Yeah um… I’m fine. It was just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” 

Except it wasn’t. It was one hell of a dream where you were getting fucked into oblivion by your player. You're not even going to lie and say that you didn’t like it. C’mon you're a woman of needs, it’s just that, him fulfilling those needs was not on the cards for you even if it wasn't real.

You check the time on your phone and wince at the bright light flashing up at you. It’s 2:45 am and you just had a back breaking sex dream about a man who you want nothing to do with. Who, as beautiful as he is, annoys the hell out of you with those one word replies and grumpy face. An edgy feeling threatens to rise.

Oh god it’s going to be awkward now. It’s only normal to walk on eggshells around someone people have these sort of dreams about. You have read your fair share of books where the female character gets a sex dream about a man and then they don’t talk to each other for the rest of their lives. Okay, that's a bit of a stretch but it might as well not be.

Yeah, you admit you guys don’t talk to each other a lot as it is, or are longtime best friends tiptoeing around their feelings, but you're afraid you're gonna have to ignore him forever for the sake of your own sanity. 

I’m so fucked. You think.

tags - @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw

[zillychu]

I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!

I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol

Summary:

The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 

Setup:

In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 

While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 

Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 

Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 

And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 

Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 

What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?

About Danny:

He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.

His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 

He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.

The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.

Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 

Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.

He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 

He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 

Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.

His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 

He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 

Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 

He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 

Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 

(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)

Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.

Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐧 || 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡

【Synopsis】 : a new book shop had opened on the block, and a certain marfia leader was interested in the sweet little owner.

『Word count』 : 9.01k

-> Genre: Mafia. Smut. Romance.

Pairing: Perv!MobBoss!Yunho! X Librarian!Reader

[Warnings] : Pervy Yunho. Like I mean this man is so horny for the reader it's crazy. Really shameless flirting and a lot of flustered most likely cringe moments but it's fine… I promise. Mention of criminal activity. Yunho is a classy criminal, what can I say. Swearing. Tension. Inappropriate thoughts. Strangers to Lovers?? Domestic play. These two already act like an old married couple, confirmed. Making out, oral(f). Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex.

Author note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DARLING YAYA!! I hope you enjoy this little treat. This is plot heavy. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I had such bad word vomit. May or may not end up writing another part, we’ll see ahh. Ah, i love you ♡ @skteezcursed ♡

Also this is not beta read so please be mindful of any mistakes ♡

Networks: @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet

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“I’m just saying why can’t you get one of the field boys to do it. You got a meeting in thirty, and I don’t see how explaining to them you were ‘out for an errand’ will solve your tardiness.” The driver scoffed yet again as he took the next right towards the new shop that had just opened a few weeks ago in town. A little book shop. There hadn’t been a proper book shop in this part of the city in years, and Yunho was immediately interested in it.

“Like I said, I want to see this place for myself. I don’t need one of those knuckleheads barging in like they own the place. And none of those bozos will ever say a word. I could be a day late, and they’ll all pretend they were just early.” Yunho rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his whiskey. He felt tired just thinking about that meeting. The one he’s been putting off for months. “Stop here.”

San sighed in defeat before taking a spot on the busy road. No one seemed to bat an eye as a black Chevy Suburban rolled up, but then again, most people on this side of town knew exactly who the car belonged to. “Meet me back here in twenty. Go grab us a coffee or something.”

“Wait but, Sir. You can't just—” Yunho slammed the door to the car. “Leave…”

-

The little bell on the top of the door rang cutely as Yunho entered the quiet establishment. There was barely anyone in here, if not no one at all. Perfect. He thought, given he wanted to be able to meet you in peace. And there you were, casually placing books in their rightful places on the shelves. You are wearing a cute sundress with an apron over it. There’s a little sun pattern all over the fabric, making it match with the pastel yellow ribbon in your hair. You were the most beautiful thing Yunho had ever laid eyes on. And the first time he noticed you were in the cafe, a few shops down. You bought a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin. He still remembers the smile on your face when you took that first sip, getting a little foam moustache as a result.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss your sweet face then and there. So naturally, he looked you up. Finding out you had opened up this vintage-urban store. You had moved from outta town, but no one knew where, and your family and history was a mystery. Even to him and his beast detectives. You were no one. And that made you even more interesting. “Come on..just..g-go.”

You were on your tip toes trying to reach the top shelf to put a book back but you being forgetful, left the stool in the back closet and you had decided it was too much of an effort to go back and get it now. You jumping was what you resorted to. You looked like a rabbit in Yunho’s eyes. A sweet little rabbit that’s breast bounced perfectly with every hop. The scrunch in your nose and little tongue poking made him wonder what your face would look like if when you were fucked just right.

His feet moved swiftly until he was flush behind up. You felt his broad chest before you heard him as he softly grabbed the book from your delicate fingers and placed it where it needed to be on the shelf. But what ultimately caught your attention was his smooth voice. “Looked like you needed some help, doll.”

Oh right then and there you felt your life was about to change very dramatically and oh, how it did excite you. “T-thanks.”

“Anytime.” His deep voice spilled in your ears like butter, and his cologne danced around you making the outside world cease to exist. He was walking sex on legs, something out of a dark romance novel and you knew exactly who he was. “So, have you got any book suggestions?”

Your smile grew when he asked the question but Yunho was cringing inside. That was really the best he could do. He’s been watching you for weeks and that was all he could mutter up. You on the other hand, chirped, plodding off deeper into the store. Yunho followed as he watched you scanning the shelves, your fingers tracing the spines of multiple books as you passed them, your mouth quivering out the titles of each one. “Here we go!” You grabbed a black book off the shelf. It had a red misty design all around it with bold white lettering in the centre. It looks magical, like you. “This is one of my favourites. But be warned, it’s a lot of info dumping at the start. But the ending is worth it.”

“Thanks doll. What is it about?” Yunho’s smile makes your heart shake, your fingers grazing his as you hand him the book. Your throat became dry, unable to think of the right words to describe the novel…”Oh it's fantasy…”

You snapped out of your brain as you see the man scanning the blurb on the back, his smile growing into a sly smirk as he read some of the words, Romantic, erudite and suspenseful. You put your jittering hands in the pockets of your apron as you tried your best not to blush. “Y-yeah.. yes. I. It's really good. It’s got witches and vampires, all sorts of creatures.”

Your little ramble caused Yunho to smile ear to ear. The way your face slowly lit up the more you spoke about it, the dramatic movements of your hands as you used them to further express your emotion. He had come to the conclusion you were the cutest thing on the planet. And he would do anything to protect that. “Well I’ll definitely give it a read, sunshine.”

Your like deepened the shade of pink upon hearing the cute nickname that slipped from the tall man. You felt like your legs were slowly turning to jelly at the thought not only was he hot as all fuck, but he was in fact a reader, like you. “T-Tell me what you think when you finish it.”

“I shall.” His remark was quick, the smirk making your heart race. When was he this close to you? Was he always this close to the point you can smell his cologne mixing with the whiskey on his breath. You gulped, watching his eyes scan from your eyes to your lips, before letting his own by swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. “I needed to speak with you about something as well.”

His deep authorial voice rattled in your mind, suddenly shaking you from your fantasy, making you remind yourself who exactly was standing in front of you. You nodded with a small ‘of course’ before walking towards the front counter. Yunho followed you as he spoke, “I’m assuming you know who I am…” his throat felt dry at his own words.

“Everybody knows who you are, Mr Jeong.” Your words seemed flattened, almost worried. In truth you were scared, but the murmurs that circled when you first entered the city was not something you took lightly. The cruelness people spoke off. The ruthless man known as the Viper. Mr Jeong Yunho. Too young to be a mafia lord, yet here he stood, powerful, feared and wealthy. “I suppose you were here originally for business then...”

Yunho watched as you took out the logs of the shop, no longer making eye contact with him. Of course you knew who he was, why was he so stupid in thinking he could pretend for one single moment to be someone else. To be a normal guy that could sway the sweet sunflower that owns the book shop. A fantasy, he thought, one that won't come true. “I protect these shops on this street. And I was wondering if you would be interested in getting into the same agreement.” he bit his tongue, trying his best to be professional.

“And what do I have to do to get this sort of treatment…” Your hands were shaking more than you’d like them too, not wishing to look into his cold eyes. But his eyes weren't cold, in fact they were swimming in conflict. He didn’t need anything from you, just like the other shops. No, he protected people that needed it and in return he asked for their favour. Nothing more nothing less. But he didn’t want a favour from you. No he just wanted…

“A smile.” Yunho said sternly.

“W-what?” You finally looked up at him to see a soft smirk on his shaded pink features and then he replied again..

“I want you to smile.”

-

You couldn’t help but yearn for Yunho every time you opened your shop. Waiting for him to walk in through those doors like he did almost two weeks ago now. you still remember the butterflies in your tummy as he said his goodbye…

“Like that.” Your smile grew bigger as he stepped closer to the counter. “It suits you so much.” He picked up your hand gently before placing the softest kiss on your knuckles. You swore your heart stopped at that moment. “I’ll be seeing you, sunshine.”

And with that he left, leaving your blood rushing to your ears and a hefty tip on your counter.

“Hey, so do I sort the biographies by title or by author.” The young worker so reluctantly hired comes rushing in from the store room, his shirt on the wrong way and his laces barely tied… his mother had practically begged you to give him work since he was almost twenty-three and still without job experience. And now you can see why no one wanted to hire the poor thing. He wasn’t the brightest.

“Uh yeah. By author and make sure they are put in the end row by the nonfiction section, please.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you watched him stumble away to the back of the shop, his laces making him side step.

And then you heard a crash. Followed by a quick, “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” You felt like you needed to ask.

The young boy rounded the shelf, looking back at you with a face as bright of a pink as the poor flowers he was holding. He had broken another vase... perfect.

“Just put it in the back.” You scratched your chin sighing as he repeated over and over ‘I’m sorry’ while cleaning up the what you’d count as the fourth vase filled with flowers. You shook your head, looking back at the receipt logbook again, going over all the money you’d have made since opening. It was surprising, to say the least, the amount of people that have purchased or borrowed books in such little time made you giddy. You felt a sense of accomplishment at the idea people were reading. The sound of the doorbell chimed, shifting your attention to a possible new customer. “Hello, how can I help…”

“Hey Sunshine.” Yunho’s face beamed with happiness upon seeing you. His casual wear catches you off guard. He almost looked normal and not some big bad mob boss who could get away with your murder. “I’ve read your book.”

“Y-yunho.” You perked, closing the logs before quickly rounding the front desk until you were almost inches from him. Close enough to smell his gorgeous cologne. “That didn’t take you long…”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, reminding himself he had spent hours reading the book when he should have been working. But who was going to yell at him for it anyway? No, he needed to finish the book quickly so he could have something to talk about. “No, I fell in love with it on page one. And besides, the quicker I read it. The quicker I could come back here and ask you for another.”

Your face blushed as he took a step closer. You gulp at the proximity, practically feeling his body heat. His on hand leaning on the counter behind you, closing the distance. "D-do, you have any in mind..."

Yunho watched your eyes flutter close, taking in his aura. He couldn't help but smirk at how much he affected you. Infecting your perfect little innocent act, because from what he read in that novel, he knew you were the sunshine he depicted you as, no, there was a dark streak inside you, and he wanted desperately to draw it out. "I was curious if you got something more spicy. Hmm."

"S-spicy!?" You gasp, opening your eyes to gaze into Yunho deep ones, his pupils blown out, almost consuming all the chocolate in his eyes. His smile only grew, placing his other hand on the other side of your body, now trapping you between his large body and the counter.

"Oh, I know you've got ideas, baby. That book wasn't as innocent as you remember, hm." The tilt in his head made you dizzy. His face inches from yours. If you wanted, you would only need to move an inch to close the gap. To finally feel those lips you'd been dreaming about for the past couple of weeks.

"I could give you some suggestions..." You whispered your breath, mixing with his. Yunho bit his bottom lip, inching closer and closer until his lips graze yours and just enough to—

"I think I lost the log book again in the...." The young boy, frozen, almost dropping some of the books that he held tightly in his hand. Yunho sighs, reluctantly pulling away slowly. You looked down at your feet, feeling like your heart was going to jump right out of your chest. "S-sorry."

"It's okay, George. Just.. Did you leave it on the desk in the back again?" You answered the poor boys' question, making his face light up with cringe. He muttered to himself before scurrying off towards the back room. You look back at the man still caging you against the counter, but his gaze was elsewhere. On the young boy, in fact. Yunho could explain it, but he knows that kid. He's seen him somewhere. His face is so familiar yet lost. "Are you okay?"

Your little murmur caught the mob boss's attention, turning his attention to you once again. He cleared his throat before standing up straight, almost making himself bigger than normal. His gaze still flickered to where the back room was. His gut told him something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. "Yeah, don't worry, sunshine." He finally looked back at you, gifting you one of his award winning smiles, "I'm good."

"Well. I should be getting back to work." You felt a slight twinge of embarrassment circle in your tummy. Getting caught in the arms of a man like Yunho but being caught almost kissing him. That was a scandal and a half. Argh, you can practically hear all the old bettys in the street gossiping already. You go to turn away from him, but his hand grips your upper arm, swinging you into his chest. His free hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Let me take you out." He smirked.

"A date?" You questioned.

"Yes. I like you, sunshine. If that wasn't obvious enough." He could see your ears start to turn pink as you tried to look everywhere else. Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears, feeling an overwhelming sense of every emotion under the sun. He leaned closer until his lips grazed your ear, whispering, "Think about it. I'll come back Friday afternoon before you close, and you can tell me your answer."

He lightly kissed your cheek before letting you go, walking out another thought. You just stood there, shocked, thrilled and absolutely terrified.

"You can't go."

"What?" You knitted your brow as you turned to George standing in one of the aisles. He jumped, changing his expression from a plan and cold expression to one of bewilderment.

"Uh, what I mean is you shouldn't. He's not a good man." You can see his grip on the books tighten as he grits his teeth. Your expression stayed the same as you turned your back to him, opening the logbook to where you were before.

"I know who he is." Your words were cold, blunt, almost shocking the young man. He was taken aback, to say the least, but then again, he expected your response. In fact, he hoped for it.

-

Through the following days, you found yourself staring at the clock, waiting, begging for the day to end. You wished desperately for it to be Friday every time you woke up. It was finally Thursday when your craving died a little. An old lady had come in to return a few books, and she had said a fine looking man had asked her to give you a piece of paper. A letter. To say your heart nearly jumped through your throat would have been an understatement. "Hey, George. I need to do some paperwork, watch the store."

"You've never let me work the regis—." You didn't even let the poor boy finish his statement as you sped off towards the back room. Your shaky fingers locked the door as quickly as possible before you practically jumped into the swivel chair. ‘Open it’ you told yourself ‘it has to be from Yunho’. Your smile only grew bigger at the voice singing in your head. You open the paper and see it's written in the most beautiful hand writing you've ever seen. It read;

To my sunshine,

Even though our interactions have been brief, I have to confess that crossing paths in your bookshop was not the first time I've noticed your beautiful presence. I first saw you in the cafe, three shops down. The way you were lost in your book while sipping on your hot chocolate made me want to dive into your mind and see its wonders. Curious what could be lying within… You’ve been on my mind ever since. I have found I am unable to sleep at night without the thought of you. Call me old-fashioned with this letter, but I needed to get this off my chest without blabbering like a fool in front of you. I can't wait for our date tomorrow that I know you’ll say yes to. But until then. A gift…

You look at the bottom of the page and note there is a phone number. If the confession of love wasn't enough, him giving you his number was certainly going to kill you. You had already planned to say yes to his date but now an idea sparked in your mind. In truth, you have found feelings towards Yunho, like you had been made for one another. No amount of time, whether little or long it was, you know your feeling would stay the same. So you wanted to take the reins for once, even if deep down you knew you wouldn't be able to hold them for long.

Sunshine// I got your letter. I want you here out the front by 6 pm, wear something casual.

You left no room for argument as you shut your phone off and held your head high. George’s expression of unpleasantness couldnt… wouldnt, stop you from the growing butterflies in your gut. You were finally going to be happy, and Yunho was the one going to give it to you.

-

You swore it wasn’t this cold yesterday afternoon, the keys almost sticking to your ice cold fingers. You checked the locks to the doors one final time before letting out a sigh of relief and nerves, ready to call it a night. “Well hello, Sunshine.”

You turned with a smile, seeing the man of the hour. He was wearing a less-fancy dress suit. No tie, or cuff links. You couldn't help but giggle. “I said casual wear Yun…”

“What do you mean love? This is casual.” He chuckled, taking two large steps to you, closing the gap. His hand snuck around your waist, squeezing the flesh on your hips. “Where are we off to tonight?”

“A surprise. So you’ll just have to trust me.” You giggle, your palm resting on his chest. You could feel his heart racing a million miles, yet he looked so composed. But then again in his field of ‘work’ he needed to show almost no signs of emotion.

“I’d trust you with my life.” Yunho had never used those words so lightly, but it was the truth. He couldn't explain it but he could easily lay his life down for you. You could crush it if you wished and he wouldn't say a thing. You blushed at his confession, reaching on your tiptoes you kiss the rugged man's cheek, before pulling away towards the street.

“I loved your letter by the way.” And with that you turned to start walking, letting Yunho trail after you like a love sick puppy.

“Just this way…” Yunho followed you curiously as you weaved through the streets. There were no restaurants or diners around in this area he knew of and given he owned half the city he should be aware of almost everything. So where on earth were you taking him? You turned your head over your shoulders spotting the confusion on his face, you couldn't help but giggle at his wide boba-like eyes. You outstretched your hand, waiting for him to take it. Yunho swore he felt his heart stop when he locked his fingers with yours. Yunho has never put this much trust in a person before and yet he has found himself being led by you through the front door of an apartment complex and up three flights of stairs before coming to a stop at a door that read 117. “I..”

All the words you had prepared to say had suddenly flown out the window as you slotted the key into the lock. Yunho’s smirk grew as he watched your brain scramble, finding enjoyment in watching you squirm. “And here I thought you had an innocent date planned. But my cheeky little sunshine just wanted me all to herself, hmm?”

“N-no!!” you whipped your head to his direction, leaning against the door with blush riddled on your cheeks. “I-i just wanted to make you a home cooked meal. I-i prefer cooking over going out.” You dipped your head to the ground feeling a little ashamed of your introvertedness. Bringing such a dangerous man home wasn't exactly the thought that crossed your brain when you thought of this evening. In truth you were only thinking about treating him to your cooking, something you took pride in. “I’m not very good with other people.”

He brought his hand to your chin, lifting your face up so he could look at you in the eyes. There was no judgement in his soft gaze, heck even his killer smirk was now only a small simple smile. “As long as I'm with you, we could be doing anything, besides…” He leaned down to give the side of your face a kiss before whispering, “I’m not one for crowds either.”

You gulped, nodding slightly as you turned back to open the door. Yunho’s gaze shifted from yours as soon as he heard the creek of the wood, finally getting a peek inside your little place you call home. Your place was riddled with a vintage, cottagey-like aesthetic. It was like Yunho had stumbled into a fairies hut that was hidden away in the woods.the smell of your salt lamp was strong but not as strong as the calming lavender. He felt like the air around him was giving him the warmest hug. Everything was soft, cute, and dainty… just like you. You lead him deeper into the apartment, letting him take the lead once you get to an archway. It led into the lounge room he found, spotting the emerald couch and various bookshelves encasing a tv cabinet. “Uh..I… make yourself at home, i just got to put away some things and i’ll start to prepare dinner.”

You scurried off before he had the chance to protest, not that he would have that is. He was almost scared to take a seat, his black on black attire completely stuck out to the surroundings. Slicked back hair, expensive accessories, shoes worth more than most of your furniture… He was so out of place. Taking a seat he felt himself sink into the cushions. He was being bombarded by plushies falling onto him as he shifted to get comfortable. Everything smelled like you, sweet, sugary, a hint of freshly baked goods and old books. He couldn’t help him, leaning down he brought his face to a blanket you use regularly when lounging on the couch. He took a deep inhale. ‘God help me’ he'd think to himself as his fingers tangled in the soft fabric, feeling his hips twitch at the thought of your scent round him. Paint him as a pervert, he didn't care, all he cared about in this moment was the feeling of you. Craving, begging to see if he could have you as more.

A loud clunk caught his attention, making him snap out of the haze clogging his mind. He’s never sat up quicker, swiftly moving towards the kitchen to only find you with a pot on the ground and the lid firmly in your hand as if you were using it as a shield. “Whoops…” was all you could mutter, feeling like your nerves had been shot from the loud noise. Yunho scooped up the pot, trying to see if you were okay only to see your face completely red. The same red as the tomatoes on the counter. “I can't stop my hands shaking,”

You tried to laugh it off lightly at how nervous you were with such a man like Yunho being in your house. You were starting to regret bringing him here and wishing you just sucked it up and took him to a restaurant instead. Yunho's free hand placed itself on your upper arm, gently rubbing up and down on your soft skin before giving the flesh a squeeze. He hadn't even realised you were dressed in something different, another sundress, but this one was black with lace accents on the hems. the ribbon holding up your hair matched it accordingly. “Hey It's okay. Just take a deep breath, baby.”

Him calling you all these pet names weren't helping but you obeyed him as best as you could nonetheless. “I just feel a little silly bringing you here. You know since we barely know one another and I don't want you to get the wrong impression…”

“And what kind of impression would you be giving me, hmm?” He didn't mean to come off as teasing but his deep tone caused him to always sound alluring.

“I..uh. That I wanted to just get you to my place to sleep with you. Cause that's not the reason i just really dont l-like—” you stopped rambling as soon as your eyes met Yunho’s. His dark blown out gaze causes your words to get caught in your throat.Yunho had put the pot down a while ago, his spine straight as he stepped closer. You instinctively took a step back and then another before your hips made contact with the counter. Yunho placed a foot on either side of yours and his hands on the marble behind you. You were caged.

"And what if that was the reason? Would it be so bad?" It was like his voice got deeper, more sultry as he took a deep grumbling breath, taking in the scent of your perfume and shampoo.

"I j-just don't want to ruin anything we could have." You whispered, your eyes fluttering close. But Yunho simply stared holes into your flesh, like he could see straight to your soul. This cute little thing in front of him wants more than a hookup? Wants to actually get to know him? He doesn't know if he had just won the jackpot, or this was, in fact, a cruel dream he hadn't woken up to yet.

"Trust me, darling. Nothing you can do will ruin anything between us..." he leaned down to your ear, "Even if it's sex."

You choked when you heard him groan that unruly word. Your hand clapping over your mouth to hide your gasp. Never in your life have you been put into a situation quite sultry as this one. The men you’ve dated were only stereotypical, self-centered or mama’s boys. Worse if they were all three. But Yunho was different. He is no gentleman but yet, if you asked for the moon he would do anything to give it to you. He is not a nice man but if someone were to hurt the old lady that runs the little shoe shop down the street he would not be afraid to kill the fucker who did her wrong. He is not a lover but he’d be damned if he didnt wife you up the moment he could. Yunho was different and that's why you had quickly fallen for the man even if those around you did not approve. “W-what if I were to ask for more tonight. Not just dinner…”

Yunho’s heart stopped, he was sure of it. His body moving closer his lips inches from your own, “I would give anything your pretty little heart desires… all you gotta say is, please.”

You opened your eyes to see his dark ones locked on you. Moving your hand slowly, you snaked them gently around his neck, feeling his soft locks tangle between your fingers. “Please…” His lips locked onto yours, stealing the yelp from your throat. His hands that were gripping firmly on the counter now tugged at your hips, bringing you flushed against him. You could feel his body heat pool where you needed him most. You’ve never been kissed like this before. The softness with pure desperation lingering. It was as if your nerves exploded with little fireworks across your spine as you shiver under him. “Y-yu..y..” He was quick to swallow your cries, using his leg to spread your thighs more so he could easily slip between them.

“If we keep going, We aren't having dinner.” Yunho groaned against your tongue, pulling away with a tug on your bottom lip. He could hear a slight ring in his blushed ears, feeling his whole body shaking, craving to keep going. But he needed you to take the lead. Tell him what you wanted… for now.

“My bedroom is the first door on the left.” Your smile seemed to be contagious as Yunho couldn't help but give you a cheeky little smirk in return. He wasted no time in taking a hold of your lips again, but this time he took a step back, letting you both shuffle ungracefully towards the hallway. You huffed as you almost tripped, giving up with the kiss. You grabbed a hold of his hand that was still tightly against your hip, intertwining your fingers withs his. You both stood there for a moment. Nothing but battered breath and racing heart beats could be heard. It was like the world had ceased to exist around this very moment. His hazy gaze travelled from where you were both connected, up your soft arms, until he reached your lips. They were swollen, puffy and pink. Beautiful… Yunho thought. Everything about you was simply beautiful.

You gave him a soft smile, one he has never seen ever pointed in his direction, and with your hands tightly interlocked, you lead him slowly into your bedroom. A shy grin decorated your features. Something that Yunho's dark stare didn't linger from, as if he needed to map out every curve and twist to keep it perfectly accurate in his mind for years to come. From the intense gaze, you look away and towards your bed.

As soon as you opened the door, Yunho was met with the sweetest scent. It was so much stronger than the one that painted your apartment. Strawberries, vanilla, and brown sugar. The room wasn't much different from the rest of your place. It was neat, tidy. But there were blankets and plushies galore on your bed. Like a little nest to keep you safe from the outside world. The bedding was a forest green that matched the similar greens on your desk that sat in the corner. You, of course, had a bookshelf in here, too, filled with a number of different kinds of novels. Yunho reminded himself to bring up the one you recommended to him when you first met.

"Cute..." Was all he spoke, making your red face become even more hotter. You turned back to him, seeing his gaze glued to you, eyeing you with a devilish smirk. "...Just like you.”

Yunho lowered himself to place his lips on yours in another heated kiss. His hands wandered lower and lower, making your own fly to grab his shoulders. He backs you up slowly, step by step. Your hazy mind was too focused on the deepening kiss to notice any movement. It wasn't until you were suddenly startled by the edge of the bed hitting your thighs that you pulled away from the man in front of you. Yunho didn't hesitate to push you back gently. The little yelp that escaped your throat would have sounded pathetic if in a different scenario, but Yunho couldn't help but groan in response to the sound. Before you could protest anything, Yunho quickly stifled any noise as he followed you to capture your lips once more in a fierce kiss.

Teeth clashed against each other, and tongues danced like there was no tomorrow. It was like Yunho couldn't get enough of you. He needed to taste you in every way possible. The whimper that slipped from him as his mouth ventures lower to your jaw, biting and lapping at your skin. Then the same is done to your neck, your collarbone, all the way to the part of your breasts that was exposed by your sundress. You gasp, tipping your head back onto the plushies behind you while your hands loosen from the fabric on his shoulders.

Yunho suddenly stopped, his dark gaze looking up at your flushed expression. You're as red as a tomato with glossed over eyes, and God is it a delicious look on you.

"Such a pretty little thing." He groans, his voice all but a hushed whisper, slowly snaking his hands to your knees, playing with the lacy hem of your dress. "May I, Sunshine?" You nodded while biting your lip, a little too enthusiastically, shifting a little side to side. You tried to ease some of the ache between your legs.

“Use your words, Darling,” He grins, his touch unmoving.

“Please Yunho,” you finally squeak out. He shifts his body lower until he is snuggly between your legs. The sight of him looking at you through his lashes while his tongue coaks a thin layer of spit on his lips was enough to make you wet. You shiver as his large hands run from your knee, up your thigh, under your dress before returning back to your knee, tantalisingly. As if marvelling at what was before him. What you were gifting him. He does it again, this time letting his finger tips linger a little bit longer on your inner thigh before pulling away completely, leaving a thrilling chill to run down your spin. “I need you…”

His ghosting hand places itself back on the soft parts of your thighs, squeezing as he heard those three words slip from your pretty mouth. “You need me, sunshine? Need me to take the ache away? Tell me what you need, baby.”

“I want you to taste me…” You felt shy whispering such filth but Yunho on the other hand, simply raised an eyebrow at your daring comment. It was something so daring it brought a smile to his older features. His little sunshine wasn’t innocent and he was slowly drawing the darkness out. His thumbs hooked on the edge of the dress hesitating before pulling the fabric up, agonisingly slow.

“Hmm, I knew my girl had a dark side.” He spoke with a lightly chuckle escaping his reddened lips from him biting them in anticipation. My girl…those words played in your head on loop, like your new favourite song. My girl. Argh you would never get over him saying that. He hikes your dress up higher to reveal your cute purple panties with a deep wet patch on them. You’re soaked right through. It was like he couldn't help himself, taking his pointer finger he pressed firmly on the patch watching the fabric stick to your core. He couldn't help but groan, “All this talk and here you are…dripping.”

Yunho dragged you underwear down your thighs. The cool air that crept from your bedroom window immediately hits the warmth of your core below. His fingers snatch the fabric clean off your legs, flicking them off to the side somewhere before his lustful gaze finally sets on the prize he had been yearning for ever since he first met you.

He swipes his thumb over your aching cunt, collecting some slick with his finger. It sent a jolt through you, your thighs twitching without your control. He coated his fingers more, watching your juices spill down his digit onto his knuckles. He does it once more for good measure, this time rubbing over your clit to earn himself a delicious whine from you. You grip at the bedsheets, widening your legs further for him unconsciously as he continues to play and rub at your clit just right. "Fuck...Yun."

"That's it sunshine, feeling good?" He chuckled watching you flinch as he pressed harshly on your clit. He snaked closer before his face was inches from you. He blew onto your wet lips, causing a gasp to leave you, but the gasp quickly turned into a high-pitched whine as you suddenly felt the warmth of his mouth upon you. He begins to lap up your pussy all the while still harshly circling your clit, moans escaping your parted lips. The noises turned into something desperate when the thumb was replaced by his firm tongue, pressing down and licking at your swollen bud, again and again. Yunho groaned against you, bucking his hips into the mattress at a stuttering pace. You took notice of his whine, feeling another one while he ground his hips just right against the sheets.

"Please, yuyu, t-that. I..ah."

You've never had any man pay this much attention to you before, let alone find enjoyment in eating you out. You can feel yourself becoming absolutely soaked just under the sensation of his mouth. Your legs quiver and shake, unable to control your movements as you feel yourself tip closer to the edge.

You try to take a deep breath. Feeling yourself already so close has made you feel slightly embarrassed. But as he sunk his long finger inside of your cunt, all the nerves seemingly washed away. Another one slid in easily and "Nh-ah YUNHO!" He curls them upwards, right to the spot that sends a spark of electricity crackling through your core.

He begins a steady rhythm along with his tongue continuously lapping your clit like he was a starved man taking his fill of a goddesses nectar and you're unable to control the noises and pants that fall from your throat. You grip one hand into the sheets as flies to grab the back of your thigh. lifting your leg up further to give him more access. You need more. You craved more. You've never felt this good before, and your being was demanding to be selfish for once.

He added a third finger as if he knew you needed something more. It made your head slam into the pillow behind you, turning to almost shout into the soft cushioning, muffling yourself for your poor neighbours. He works up a good rhythm, finding what buttons to push, succeeding in getting to know what your body wants. Groans from him and other lustfulled sniffles fill the room, as your thighs clamp down around the mob boss's head, keeping him where he is.

He could barely breath as your hips buck against his soaked face. But he couldn't care less. In fact, he would be happy if he died like this. In between the legs of his best girl, his pretty little sunshine. You felt like you were about to explode but the euphoria didn't last long as Yunho used his free hand that had been holding onto your outer thigh to pull your legs apart, holding them in place so he could sit up slightly. "You close, baby? Do you need to cum?"

"Yes!" You answered in a choked whine needing to feel his mouth on you once again.

"Yes, what sunshine?" Normally, he would be one for punishment, and given you kept breaking rules, he was most certainly craving to punish you. But it decided to let it slide this one. He has more than enough time to mould you and shape you into his perfect angel later. But for now, he'll see what type of filth he can draw from you.

"Yes, please, Yunho." Your glossed eyes finally opened for the first time in what felt like years, your tears clouding most of your vision but you could still see the darkness in Yunho's gaze and how his chin was dripping with slick. Your slick.

He drove his fingers deeper, his knuckles brushing your walls as he slammed his digits in a calculated thrusts. Harsh, slow, and powerful. You become louder, needier, and you can’t get your breathing under control. You’re teetering right on the edge. Ready. Right there and then...

He stops.

His glistening face had the cheekiest, wet grin across it like he felt proud of edging you. You on the other hand looked almost shocked panting louding, heart beating in your ears with flush brilliant red cheeks. You lick your lips as you run your hand over your mouth before raking it through your slightly dishevelled hair. Your eyes grew narrow as you stared at the man between your shaking legs. He holds your thighs apart so you can’t clamp them shut to try and stop the intense tingling between, causing you to huff in frustration.

“Don’t need to ruin the fun now, princess,” he inquired as he stood up off the bed, towering over your weak looking frame. The moon light that was pooling in the room caused his shadow to engulf you, covering your body in his darkness. He looked powerful. He looked dangerous. Like the man everyone warned you about. The feared mafia leader of the Destiny clan. He pulls you by your ankles, yanking you until you were sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand gripped the back of your neck gently bringing your face to his so he could kiss you. But you kept your hand over your mouth, your other hand coming to place on his chest, holding him firmly in face with a hidden smirk.

“You are a cruel man.” You gestured to him not letting you finish, but in truth, the word cruel hung in the air like thick tension. Cruel. A word he was sadly used to. But not in this kind of way. It almost delighted him. You felt your heart jump as he raised his brow, coming closer so that he’s only a hair’s breadth away from the back of your hand. His dark eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail.

“Hmm why? You taste so sweet,” He bit his lip, “I want you to have a taste?” He mimics what you asked prior. You swallowed thickly with wide eyes nodding shyly. Slowly, you moved your hand away as he paused for a moment, just to see your flustered face once more. “Cute…”

He dives in, kissing you, lapping at your lips. His teeth nibbling, and his teeth clashing against yours. You could taste the muskiness of yourself on his tongue, the sweetness that lingered. You deepen the kiss, allowing his hand on the back of your neck to hold it still in place, giving up any power to give him everything of your being. Your hands shift to his shirt, catching the hem between your finger tips before tugging at the fabric. He seemed to get the gist as he pulled away for only a mere couple of seconds to pull his shirt off, snatching your lips against his once more.

Your fingers trace his body with your sight, feeling all the bumps of scar tissue and muscle. More proof of his status, of who he really was. But yet you still couldn’t pull yourself away. You’re not sure if you ever will. “Yu..” You huffed against his lips, “Yun I..”

He pulls away, letting his nose rub against yours while his eyes stay tightly sealed, taking in the moment like he was never going to be able to get it again. “What is it, my sunshine.”

“I need you… please.” You voice was barely above a whisper, only you and him being able to ever hear your little plea. His smile. His addicting smile made the butterflies in your tummy swoon. His hand that was firmly on your neck slid down until it found the zipper to your dress, playing with the metal between his digits.

“Can you stand?” He gently asked, waiting for you to nod a small ‘yes’. He helped you stand, the backs of your thighs still tightly against the edge of the bed, as if they were helping you stand. He finally pulled away, letting your eyes wander down his toned, damaged chest. He had tattoos up both arms, one of his right peck and one faintly sticking out on the top of his low slacks. You licked your swollen lips unconsciously as you gawked at him. Yunho on the other hand couldn't help but grin sinisterly at your reaction, delicately grabbing the zipper on your dress, he unzipped it until the straps of your dress loosened and fell from your shoulders.

The fabric pooled at your chest, your arms tightly holding it in place. “I…”

“Are you okay, love?” Your eyes snapped to his deep chocolate ones when he called you ‘love’, feeling your nerves crackling like fireworks. He tilted his head to the slide marginally, his smirk fading to a simple smile but his eyes never dimming their darkness. His hands gripped tightly onto his belt, unlooping it before throwing it somewhere in the room. He had made you watch his every move as he unzipped his slack unhurriedly. He could see the darkness begin to cloud your colourful eyes, your pupils growing large as the fabric fell to the floor, leaving him in his boxers. “Your turn.”

His voice somehow got deeper. His fingers gliding along your goosebumped skin. You took a deep inhale through your nose before letting your dress drop, pooling at your ankles. "Fuck..."

"Yun..." You dont even know why you called his name, but he was immediately on you, his one hand resting on your bare hip while the other effortlessly unhooked your bra in one quick snap, watching your plump breast spring free. He almost bent you in half when he brought his face to your tits, taking a deep breath, smelling your perfume on your sweaty skin. His tongue licked along the valley, groaning as he latched his mouth to your left nipple. "Fuck yuyu, nargh."

Your hands tangled in his hair as you feel back, dragging him with you as you fell on the bed with an 'oof'. He used his strong arms to throw your body upwards until your head hit the pillows, not leaving your breasts alone. He painted every part of skin he could with beautiful purple marks. Neading your chest, tugging on your nipples and wetting every surface. You could lay here and suck your tits for hours if you let him. But he knew you needed more. He needed more. Feel what it's like to be inside you.

"Such perfect tits. A pretty body. Everything about you is perfect sunshine. Hmm. My perfect girl." His praise made you whimper, a tear creeping out the corner of your eyes. You've never had someone say such kind things to you, praised you the way Yunho has been. For a cruel man, he was the kindest person you've ever met.

"Yu..yunho, please. I need you inside me." You whispered, tugging his head up by his hair so his lips were inches from your own. He gave you a small peck before sitting up slightly so he could wrap his legs around his waist, sliding the tip of his cock along your folds.

“Whatever my girl wants, she’ll get.” He sunk inside your soaked cunt inch by inch, bit by bit, until he bottomed you out. He shivered at the feling of your warm walls clenching tightly around him. His eyes squeezing shut and face burring in your neck. He could feel the coil in his gut already tug. he was going to cum any second and he felt embarrassed how quick you’ve made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven. “Fuck sunshine, you feel so nice. You’re pussy is sucking me in ngah.”

“Yunho please move.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, grinding upwards onto his public bone, feeling the friction ease the ache only just. It was like a switch went off when Yunho heard your little plea, snapping his hips into yours are such a pace it caused the air to be snatched out of your lungs. If you werent being fucked by the inch of your life you would of felt sorry towards your neightbours as a string of cries, swears and pet names bounced off the thin walls of your bedroom. Yunho drug his nails in the soft flesh of your waist, surely creating deep indents that you’d been flaunting for days to come.

You’ve never felt such a connection to another person before let alone a man. You were brought up with the idea that love didn’t exsit. That it was only a dream that settled in the books you’ve read. But the way Yunho made you feel, the way he made you want to feel. It was like you were in those books you’ve read.. “Yu..Yu I—”

“It okay baby. Let go. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” He sat up just slightly grabbing both of your wrists he held your hands above your head, lacing his fingers harshly around your appendage. Bending one of your legs over his shoulder, he jackhammered into you at a sped that was just what you needed, feeling his waist grind on your clit, giving you the right amount of simulation to let go. “That’s it, darling.”

Your foggy eyes, riddled with tears, stared up at Yunho’s never leaving his gaze. He watch every detail your face made as you came crashing down from your high. The way you brows cross, you mouth hung only ajar and savlia dripping down your chin. You were the hottest thing he had ever laid eyes on, he was certain. “Fuck, sunshine, can I come inside you. Can I feel this pretty pussy up?”

His eyes begun to flutter closed as he felt a rush of need spill down his spine. You whimpered out a daring ‘yes please’ making him bust his load deep inside you, coaking your walls before some of his cum leaked out around his cock that stilled in you. Clouds daced around you, the softness of air tickling your sweaty flesh. Every nerve in your body was on an all time high and it was all thanks to the dangerous man above you. Yunho had let go of your wrist, kissing each one tendly. You simply lazily watched him, basking in the moment, never wanting it to end.

-♡

[ozzgin]

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.

In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

[pucksandpower]

Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader - Social Media AU

y/nhorner

Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 273,816 others

y/horner waiting to get my wings

View all 529 comments

y/nbiggestfan come on red bull, give our girl her wings already!

y/nhornersupremacy i hate that the talent is right in front of them but they keep overlooking you! totally their loss

y/nhornersupremacy manifesting those wings for you soon! the grid is missing your fierceness

purplesector red bull or alphatauri would be crazy not to lock you down

womeninmotorsport the world needs more phenomenal female drivers like you ❤️

y/n4wdc the day is coming for those wings, i just know it

y/nhorner

Liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 1,395,627 others

y/nhorner i don’t care, i paint the town red

View all 2,894 comments

scuderiaferrari red is your color ❤️

charles_leclerc looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other 😉 welcome to the team!

y/nhorner can’t wait 🫶

gridgossip oh it’s about to go down! competing against daddy horner 👀

formulanone never call him daddy again 🥴

womeninmotorsport you go girl! time to show red bull what they missed out on

y/nbiggestfan so excited for you!

lewishamilton onwards and upwards 🙌🏾

y/nhorner thank you, lew!

formulanews red bull must be punching the air right now! y/n and ferrari are going to be a force to be reckoned with together

La Vendicata Revitalizes Ferrari

Maranello, Italy (15 July 2024) - Scuderia Ferrari is reinvigorated in 2024 thanks largely to the arrival of young British driver Y/N Horner. Dubbed “La Vendicata” (The Avenged) by the loyal Tifosi, Horner has made an immediate impact in her first season with the team and rookie season in F1.

Her commanding victories at the Austrian and British Grands Prix added to a consistent streak of podium finishes, establishing Horner as a rising star. Beating Red Bull, her father’s team, on their home soil was sweet revenge after being passed over for a seat.

But Horner’s influence extends beyond her own results. She convinced renowned race strategist Hannah Schmitz to make the jump from Red Bull and breathe new life into the famously questionable Ferrari strategy. Schmitz’s shrewd calls have helped optimize both Leclerc and Horner’s aggressive driving styles.

Additionally, Horner brought along several top designers and engineers from Milton Keynes to strengthen Maranello’s technical team. Her rapport with teammate Charles Leclerc has Ferrari targeting its first Constructors’ Championship and Drivers’ Championship in nearly two decades.

Team Principal Fred Vasseur praised Horner’s technical acumen and work ethic. “Her talent and confidence are matched only by her preparation and diligence. Y/N understands the car and motivates the team.”

The Tifosi have quickly embraced La Vendicata’s bold charisma and flair for the dramatic. With a title challenge in sight, she has brought fresh belief and energy to Ferrari. Still very much early in her career, her potential seems limitless.

Y/N Horner is out to show Red Bull what they lost by revitalizing the Prancing Horse. With La Vendicata and Il Predestinato leading the charge, Ferrari’s glory days may soon return.

y/nhorner

Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 784,695 others

y/nhorner i still want your hands up on my body. you still make my heart beat fast, ferrari

View all 631 comments

leclerclover it’s definitely charles! i would know those arms and legs anywhere

trulytifosi i think her boyfriend is just being supportive and wearing ferrari merch

leclerclover no way, the body language is all there. it’s definitely charles!

f1wagupdates charles and y/n would be the dream team on and off the track

lightsoutferrari let’s not jump to conclusions, it could just be a random boyfriend. charles doesn’t have a monopoly on wearing ferrari branded clothing

scuderiay/n i know that nothing’s been confirmed yet but imagine if it is charles 👀 they would have so much chemistry together

monzamash i’m manifesting them so much

scuderiaferrari

Liked by y/nhorner, charles_leclerc, and 2,175,834 others

scuderiaferrari when your drivers take team bonding a bit too seriously

View all 2,906 comments

y/nhorner you told us that we should get close to each other so we did

scuderiaferrari as teammates, maybe friends. not close enough for the admin to be traumatized by finding you with each other’s tongue down your throats while i was just trying to get an espresso

charles_leclerc what can we say? we’re overachievers like that

maxverstappen1 so it’s okay when they do it but when i tried to kiss daniel for team bonding i got in trouble? make it make sense!

redbullracing it’s been seven years, let it go

maxverstappen1 no

ferraricentral clearly whatever they’re doing is working so no complaints here

[illusioninfnty]

day 21 ; spitroasting

↠ roronoa zoro x reader x vinsmoke sanji

fandom: one piece word count: 2.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, caught in the act, jealous!zoro, possessiveness, spanking, praise, blowjob, face fucking, gagging, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation, cum marking, cum eating, creampie, aftercare, some unintentional homoerotic subtext if you squint

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

Grunts and skin slapping together are the only sounds in the room as Zoro fucks into you from behind.

Your arrangement with him was as simple as it could be, whenever the two of you were stressed, and whenever the other crew members were occupied, you would fuck. It was a lot easier than trying to pick up strangers from whatever bar you could find everytime you guys docked at a new town. The last time that happened, you may or may not have brought back someone that had a hidden vendetta against Luffy, and it resulted in yet another fight aboard the Going Merry.

Oh well. Mistakes happen.

You moan into the pillow beneath you, doing your best to conceal your sounds of pleasure. You were in Zoro’s bed, as all of the crew were out exploring the newest town

Despite that fact, it never hurts to be too careful. 

And indeed, you were right. Because not even a minute later, you hear the door to the men’s quarters open and you gasp in surprise. You involuntarily clench around Zoro, making him hiss as you both turn to see who walked in.

Sanji stands in the doorway, jaw dropped and suit jacket halfway off his body.

Zoro turns to maneuver the bed sheets in a way that covers your body from Sanji’s eyes. You could tell that the cook was staring at you, just by the way his eyes completely avoid your gaze and he looks upward as a blush rises to his cheeks. He looks cuter than ever in that moment, and maybe it's because you have a dick inside of you at that very moment, but you desperately want to fuck him to see what other reactions you can get out of him.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Zoro growls out. The hand that was splayed across your hip tightens in anger the longer Sanji stands there. “Fucking scram.”

You could tell by his initial embarrassment that Sanji was planning on leaving, but Zoro’s reaction has him heated up, and you know that neither of them will let the other have the last word.

You roll your eyes and get settled in, waiting for the argument to begin.

Sanji tsks at Zoro, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Putting her in such a degrading position like that, it’s a wonder she stays with you.”

“She stays with me ‘cause I fuck her right every time. Not like she’d have the same experience with you.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve never gotten a single complaint about my performance in the bedroom!”

“Yeah, right. Like she’d ever go for you when she has me here.”

“A-actually,” you speak up for the first time during their spat. Both men turn to you, Sanji with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, and Zoro, who’s glare seems to scream don’t you dare, as if he knew exactly what you were going to suggest.

“Sanji,” you swallow, hoping you’re not making a mistake, “you should join us.”

“Join—?” He chokes on his spit, and you can see the way his cheeks turn red from his blush. 

“Please?” you put on a classic pout that you know will make Sanji weak in the knees.

Hook, line, and sinker.

He scratches the back of his neck, feigning concession. But you can see the tent in his pants that is clear as day. “If you insist, madam.”

“Madam,” Zoro mutters from behind you, mocking Sanji’s choice of word. You kick at the back of his leg in warning.

Sanji approaches you in the front of the bed (staying as far away from Zoro as possible, you notice) and stares at you hesitantly. You motion him closer, and begin palming his erection through his pants. He moans softly, his hips subtly bucking into your touch.

Zoro, having enough of your attention pulled away from him, begins to thrust back into you from behind. The sudden movement has you moaning, and the force of it pushes you right into Sanji’s crotch.

The ship’s cook grabs your hair by the root and keeps you in place with one hand as he uses his other to undo his pants and free his cock from its constraints. His hard erection springs out, hitting you in the face, and without any prompting you stick it in your mouth, sucking on it furiously.

You bob your head up and down, swallowing him all the way down to the root. You swirl your tongue around the head, and Sanji’s grip in your hair tightens as he groans from the sensation.

“Better not make any noises over there, cook,” Zoro says. “I was planning on finishing.”

Sanji’s response comes back within a second. “I can’t help it when your woman is giving all her attention to me.”

You don’t even need to be looking at Zoro to know what his reaction is to that—you can just picture the glare that he gives Sanji as he slaps your ass and ruts his hips into you more.

The force of his cock filling you to the brim has you moaning around Sanji’s cock as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hands grip the sheets below you as you make a feeble attempt to stabilize yourself as you lay helpless between the two men who use your body for their pleasure.

Zoro does his best to ignore Sanji and occupies himself with grabbing the flesh of your ass and spreading you open wider than before. He bullies his cock deep inside of you, and the bulbous head reaches parts of you that have your vision going blurry and your mind going numb, only able to focus on how much he fills you up.

“You see this?” Zoro motions to you, and the way your body shakes in pleasure from his cock thrusting deep with you. “This is all ‘cause of me. You couldn’t make her feel even half as good.”

As you look up at Sanji through your teary vision, you can see the way his eyes narrow at Zoro’s fighting words. Suddenly your nose is pressed up against Sanji’s pubic bone, his cock stuffed all the way down your throat, you cough and gag around him, spit dribbling down the sides of your mouth yet he doesn’t relent.

He has one hand entangled in your hair at the scalp, and the other moves to wrap itself around your neck, gripping it lightly, feeling the imprint of his cock on your throat as he fucks it in and our of your mouth.

You moan around him, relishing in the sensation of fullness that you’re getting inside of you from both ends. Your hands move to grasp onto Sanji’s thighs and you suck down as much as you can on his cock, gagging as his cock reaches as far as it could possibly go within your mouth. Tears start to stream down your face now at the way he pounds himself all the way to the back of your throat.

Sanji looks down at your reaction, and then up at Zoro with his trademark smirk. “Seems like she’s too occupied enjoying my cock down her throat.”

Both men are relentless in trying to prove themselves, and you’re on the receiving end of it. It seems as though you’re never going to catch a break between the two of them. They constantly try and one up each other, with each new action or technique they try on you has you edging closer and closer to your eventual orgasm.

The final straw is when Zoro, through his relentless ruts into you, begins to stick his thick fingers inside of your pussy as well, curling them up in the perfect spots where he knows you’ll fall apart.

And you do. You attempt to pull a hand back and slap him against his arm to warn him or your incoming orgasm, but Sanji’s grip in your hair remains as solid as ever and you don’t have enough strength to pull yourself back.

Your arms flop to your side, weak and useless, the two men being the only things holding your body up now. Your screams of pleasure are muted around Sanji’s cock, but the vibrations from it have him groaning nonetheless.

Your orgasm comes like a colossal wave, crashing down onto you with so much pain and pleasure it becomes too overwhelming to bear. Your whole body goes rigid as you climax. Your pussy clenches like a vice around Zoro’s cock, and your mouth tightens around Sanji. The two men groan in unison as your release washes over you, squirting juices all over yourself and Zoro, who you can hear laughing (and probably mocking Sanji) from behind you.

Neither man lets you rest after your orgasm, though. They both continue to fuck you with intense vigor, as if it’s their dying wishes. It’s Sanji who finally folds first and cums, doing so by holding you by your hair as he smashes your face all the way to the base of his cock. His groans are loud and continuous as you suck down on him furiously, swallowing the jets of cum that shoot out of him. 

A mix of your saliva and his cum leave the sides of your mouth as you do so, causing you to make a mess of his cock, slobbering all over it as he guides your head up and down.

“Fuck, so good for me,” he mutters out with his jaw clenched, just loud enough for you to hear, and you preen under the praise.

After he’s done cumming, you open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue for Sanji, showing him your empty mouth from swallowing all of him. And you’re glad you did so, because based on his lovesick expression alone it looked like he was about to cream himself for a second time that night.

Zoro cums soon after, his cock throbbing harshly as he buries himself to the hilt deep inside your pussy. He tends to be quiet when he cums, save for a few grunts here and there as the jets of hot liquid pour into you. But this time, you can hear him uttering praises to you.

“That’s it baby,” is what you hear the clearest through his groans, his voice gravely and deep. “Fuck, squeezing me so tightly. Could die in this pussy.”

If you literally didn’t just have your orgasm a second ago, you probably would have cum again right then and there.

Zoro always came inside of you whenever you two fucked, insisting on going bare. You never minded it; it felt better without a condom on, anyways. But you always knew that the reason why Zoro truly did it was because he loved marking you with his cum, seeing it drip outside of your pussy whenever he finished.

The swordsman reluctantly leaves your pussy after he cums. He watches the way the excess liquid seeps outside of your pussy, which still clenches around nothing, desperately looking for his cock again. He scoops it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside of you and barks out a laugh at the way you moan pathetically and your pussy walls quiver as they constrict around the shape of him.

He takes some of the excess left on his fingers and wipes it across your ass, rubbing it into your skin.

It takes you a couple of moments for you to finally open your eyes and register your surroundings after all of that. Zoro is wiping you with a wet cloth, and you see Sanji coming back in with a glass of water and a snack he no doubt whipped up quickly, then and there.

Once you’re finally calmed down from the overstimulation and cleaned off from all of the stickiness, you roll back into Zoro’s bed with a sigh collapsing from the exhaustion. Zoro moves in next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and rubbing circles into your skin.

Sanji glances at the two of you. “Room for one more?” he asks cheekily.

Zoro glares at Sanji and his arm tightens around you. “Fuck no. Piss off.” 

He closes his eyes, and within seconds he’s snoring away, dead to the world.

You look over at Sanji and roll your eyes at Zoro’s words. Silently, you scootch over in the bed, making some room for him. You motion with your hand for him to climb in, and he does so gladly, nestling himself into your body. With Zoro’s arm around you and your face resting in the crook of Sanji’s neck, you’re able to fall asleep quickly and peacefully sandwiched between your two favorite boys, not having a single care in the world.

[dumbseee]

bragging.

when jude is dating his celebrity crush and he can’t stop bragging about it.

jude bellingham x famous!reader.

_

"nah but look at her, isn’t she so beautiful?" he rhetorically asked vini, who was sitting next to him. the brazilian looked at him, stunned, before looking at aurelien who was laughing his ass off with camavinga at his side. "is this guy for real?" vini was so tired of his friend shoving his phone down his nose to show him your latest achievement. jude looked up from his phone, pouting. "what? am i not allowed to brag about my amazing girlfriend?" he sank deeper into his seat and smiled softly when he saw your notification, you had just posted a new story.

"the thing is, you always do this. 'guys! look at y/n’s new post, look at her new commercial, look at her new movie poster.'" camavinga mimicked jude, resulting in the british to throw a pillow at him. "i don’t speak like that!" he said, frowning. "let the boy be in love, guys." tony kroos entered the hotel room the four friends were staying in. "if y/n l/n was my girlfriend i’d act the same way." he added, smiling at jude. "right? she’s so perfect." he mumbled to himself, still smiling at his phone like a fool. "i think we should get him checked into a hospital asap." vini told aurelien.

and it was true, jude was your biggest fan out of them all. he was already a fan before even meeting you, to him you were always amazing and so talented. the story of how you met was actually funny but embarrassing if you asked jude. during one of his drunken nights with his boys, jude, who was absolutely wasted, was scrolling through your instagram feed, feeling sad that he couldn’t be by your side and be your boyfriend. he was convinced you’d never be attracted to him. so he dmed you, completely drunk but he didn’t care, the message itself said: 'why are you so beautifl? pls be my gf'. when he woke up in the morning, a headache killing him, he almost had a stroke when he saw that he received a dm from you. well, he dmed you first and you answered but jude didn’t know it yet. imagine the horror on his face when he read his message and when he read yours.

'then let’s fix that, pretty boy ;)'

[ellecdc]

Black!reader that is “I don’t smoke” (mitski) because if their parents ‘you need to be mean be mean to her me, she I can take it and put it inside of me’

hi babes, this was my take on Black!reader who was always hurting on behalf of everyone else. this fic is very angsty compared to my usual standards, so please keep that in mind before reading, and mind the warnings. of course, as typical on ellecdc we have a happy/hopeful ending

Remus Lupin x Black!sister reader after The Prank™ [4.7k words]

CW: The Prank™, Black family trauma, the Marauders aren't speaking to each other, depressive episodes and self-loathing, siblings get quasi-violent/threats of violence? but for a good cause?, Remus' typical self-loathing, discussion of forgiveness and hatred, breaking up [not pictured] and making up [pictured]

The worst part-

Though, even the thought caused Sirius to scoff humourlessly, because what could possibly be the worst part of this? What could possibly be any ‘more worse’ than the worst thing he’d ever done?

Still, Sirius supposed, wand to his head, the worst thing about all of this would be the fact that Sirius didn’t regret it. Not really.

If anything, he only felt stronger in his conviction that Snape deserved to be mauled violently to death.

Yet…

Yet he didn’t find he felt particularly good about it all; about the way Remus woke up with new, deep, angry scars across his face courtesy of The Wolf who finally had a chance at a meal only to have that stolen before he turned on himself, about the way he looked at Sirius with an expression of pure unadulterated betrayal and then fury when he realised what he had done, about the three well aimed hits he took from James, nor about the way he had to listen through the door as Remus ended your relationship with you, officially giving into all of his deep-seeded self-loathing and beliefs that no one could or should possibly accept him.

And all Sirius managed to do was prove that to be true; that Remus couldn’t trust anyone. And as a result, he robbed you of the only love you had access to save what little you received from Regulus and Sirius.

So perhaps Sirius regretted that, but without access to a Time Turner, there was nothing to be done. 

There was nothing to be done. 

James had told him that “until he made things right with Remus, he wanted nothing to do with him”, and while he didn’t blame James, Sirius knew he was officially on his own because there would be no ‘making things right’. There was nothing right, not with Sirius, at least. 

Everything about Sirius was wrong.

There was nothing to be done. 

He brought the cigarette back up to his lips, the sensitive skin at the corner of his mouth cracking painfully as he took a drag. He appreciated the sting as his teeth started to taste like iron; the pain was both a welcome reminder and a distraction of his inner turmoil as he kept his gaze on the grounds below him.

He couldn’t look at the common room; the red and gold that once felt like home had faded into shades of grey. He couldn’t look in a mirror; his permanently downturned lips and angry eyes found him looking more like his father than he did himself. He couldn’t look at his hands; they were blistered and cracked from his tryst in the forest where he emptied his lungs by screaming until he was choking on air and punching uselessly at a tree.

He couldn’t look at any of his friends, because they couldn’t even look at him; they hated him.

He was hated. 

Sirius began to wonder how many more classes he could miss before McGonagall followed through on her threats to write home when the portrait hole opened.

He couldn’t look, though. Because he was hated.

“Aren’t you meant to be in class?” He heard you call to him, listening to your measured steps as you made your way to his spot on a windowsill. 

“I could ask the same of you.” He gruffed; voice cracking from disuse, from chain smoking, and from the perpetual tightness he had felt since That Night. 

“What are you doing, Sirius?” You sighed; you were exhausted. Exhausted of him. 

He was exhausted too.

“I’m minding my business, Y/N.” He spat back, stubbing out his smoke before lighting another one with a snap of his fingers. “You should try it sometime.” 

With a wave of your hand, the smoke was gone.

“What the fuck?”

“Get up.” You ordered simply, and Sirius shook his head at you.

“Go back to the dungeons.”

“No.” 

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Y/N.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Great, neither am I.” 

“I don’t want you here.”

“And I don’t want to be here,” You agreed, voice rising at Sirius’ petulance, “but I’ve got a brother who decided to stop functioning a few weeks ago, so here I am.” 

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“You smell.”

“Yeah well, you’re ugly.” Sirius sneered, pulling out another cigarette only for you to vanish the entire pack. 

“When was the last time you showered?” You demanded, and Sirius refused to look at you.

“Hm? Or changed? Or ate? When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?”

Sirius kept his gaze pointed at the grounds outside. 

“Sirius. Your hair is greasy, you smell stale, you look gaunt, and…they’re going to write home.”

“Good.” Sirius spat quickly. “As they should.”

“Is that what you want, Sirius? You want more people to be mad at you? More people to punish you?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re already doing that enough for the rest of us.” You sighed, attempting to grab him by the arm only for him to shove you away. 

“Get away from me, Y/N, I mean it.” 

“No, get up.”

“Fuck off.”

“Now.” You nearly growled, and Sirius turned to see you aiming your wand in his direction, surprising a sarcastic laugh from him.

“What? Gonna hex me? Or are you gonna skip right to the Unforgivables, hm? Maybe an imperio? Or are you going to try some negative reinforcement? A crucio for disobedience? Salope stupide, de plus en plus comme ma mère chérie chaque jour.” (translation: stupid bitch, more and more like mother dearest every day)

Sirius flinched as you quickly raised your hand, prepared for a blow that you never landed. 

He looked back to see you standing there, hand poised like it was ready to hit him as you stared at him defiantly; your cool, piercing eyes so much like his own, but the displeased pinch of your mouth was that of your mother. 

“Is that what you want, Sirius? Huh? You want to be walloped a few more times on the nose so that everyone knows what a bad dog you are? You want to be punished for your misdeeds? Maybe get a few more of these?” And you punctuated your question by roughly grabbing at his jaw, fingers pressing into the painful bruises still colouring his cheeks courtesy of James. “That’s why you haven’t bothered healing them, yeah? So that everyone who sees will know what a right bastard you are."

He smacked your hand away with one arm and shoved you away from him with the other. 

“Or,” you continued - rather unphased by Sirius’ aggression - grabbing his balled up fist and bringing it up to your own face, “is it me you want to hit, hm? You want everyone else to hurt just as badly as you are? The world has been just terrible to you Sirius, you were dealt an awful hand! You just want everyone to suffer for it; to pay for the wrongs done to you.”

“Stop it.” Sirius hissed, trying to yank his hand away from you to no avail. 

“Hit me then, Sirius. Hit me. You wanna give into that Black Darkness? Want to be just as bad as they are? Just as bad as they’ve painted you to be? Go ahead.” 

“Stop.” 

“Then get up.” 

“Y/N…” He warned.

“Get up, Sirius.” 

“I hate you.” He spat, and your jaw tightened but you rolled your eyes as if you found him to be quite tiresome.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you very much right now either.” 

He stood then, giving you no time to get out of his way before he was towering over you. You never faltered, though. He let you grab him by the sleeve of his shirt, he let you drag him up the stairs towards his dormitory - somewhere he hadn’t been since That Night, opting instead to sleep on the couches, a time or two in the room of requirement, and one night in the Shrieking Shack as Padfoot - and he let you bodily shove him into the boys’ bathroom. 

“Get in the shower, Sirius.”

“Sunny, please.”

“I’m not asking.” You said firmly. “Get in the shower.”

“I can’t.” 

You swore under your breath as you dragged him over to the shower stall, said nothing as he went no bones and sunk to the floor, and simply turned the shower on, soaking you both.

“Y/N, stop.” 

“Sirius, if you’re not going to take care of yourself, I will. Those are your choices.” You said defiantly, staring down at him as your school uniform became more and more drenched and your hair started sticking to the side of your neck.

Sirius let out a sigh and rested his head against his knees, and you accepted his relenting as the acquiescence it was. 

You pointed the shower head at him and began lathering soap into his hair before doing much the same with the conditioner. 

Sirius let the soap burn his eyes; welcomed it, even. He did nothing to help you with your tasks, though you didn’t ask him to. He did, however, draw the line at you trying to disrobe him.

“These need to come off, Sirius.” You said, pulling at his uniform shirt like something disgusting you found in a gutter.

“And I will take them off once you’re no longer staring at me.” He growled, causing you to scoff a humourless laugh.

“Like hells I’m letting you out of my sight again.”

Sirius simply groaned. 

“How are you going to wash your body, Sirius? Please don’t tell me you’re going to make me do that too.”

Sirius ripped the bar of soap out of your hands and glared at you as he shoved it beneath his clothes, washing himself the best he could under his sopping wet uniform. 

Though he was more than likely still sudsy, you shut the water off and vanished what water you could from both of your beings; each of your heads and uniforms still dripping wet as you flung open the bathroom door and marched across the hall.

Sirius’ mouth ran dry when you knocked on their dormitory door; somewhere between you confronting him in the common room and forcing him to bathe, classes seemed to have ended. 

He should’ve flung himself out of the common room window when he had the chance; he couldn’t see Remus, James, or Peter. They hated him.

He was hated.

Remus wouldn’t talk to any of them, and James and Peter weren’t talking to Sirius. Even though Remus had told them he didn’t want them “taking sides”, he didn’t seem too bothered watching Sirius get iced out. 

Because he hated him.

Sirius was hated. 

“Oh…hi, Y/N…” James offered awkwardly as he opened the door. 

You barely spared him a glance. “Potter.” You greeted simply as you dipped under his arm which had been holding the door open and marched towards Sirius’ bed. 

Remus pulled his head through the hole of his jumper as he watched you start digging through Sirius’ trunk, sharing a quick glance with James and Peter before his gaze moved to Sirius all but cowering in the doorframe. 

“Are you…wet?” Peter asked cautiously then, all three boys staring at you in bemusement as you packed up a duffle. 

“Yeah.” You responded simply, throwing Sirius a towel that he (thankfully) caught as everyone’s eyes fell to him. 

Sirius quickly ran the towel over his person as you let his trunk close with a loud thunk, hiked the bag you packed for him over your shoulder, and stalked out of the dorm room without sparing any of the boys - including your ex boyfriend - a passing glance. 

“Don’t you hate me?” Sirius whispered as he allowed you to lead him to the Slytherin dorms.

“No, Sirius. I hate what you did.” You sighed, never faltering in your steps but strengthening your hold on your brother's wrist. “I love you, that’s why I’m here.” 

Remus had tried telling Peter and James to leave him alone; he wanted to be alone. 

Yet somehow, every morning, the two of them would sit across from him in the Great Hall, say hello, and then talk amongst themselves whilst pretending he wasn’t there. 

That was fine, though. Remus was sort of pretending he wasn’t there, too. 

But while Remus could ignore James and Peter’s existence, Sirius’ existence, and even his own if he really tried hard enough, he couldn’t ignore your existence. 

He’d been more than slightly confused when you stormed into his dorm room last night completely drenched without your eyes ever cutting to him and packed up a bag for your equally drenched brother. 

He’d been more than slightly hurt when you left without sparing him a glance, too. Though he figured perhaps he deserved that. This is what he wanted, right?

Scratch that, actually, what he had wanted was to be safe and loved and protected by the people who promised to do that for him. That was what he had wanted.

It wasn’t until Peter and James paused in their conversation to look at Remus concernedly that he realised he had caused his tea to overflow by means of accidental magic. 

Remus threw a wad of napkins at the mess as he made to stand, but his legs felt wholly incapable of holding him up when he saw you enter the Great Hall, quickly followed by a rather dispirited looking Sirius who nearly bumped into you as you paused at the entrance.

Your gaze automatically fell to the Slytherin table where Regulus was shooting you and Sirius a perturbed look. 

You turned then towards the Gryffindor table when your gaze fell to Remus.

He found himself unable to break your gaze; he wondered if you could see the heartbreak pooling in his eyes, or the longing painted in the space between his brows.

He wondered if you could even manage to see past the new, ferocious scars decorating his face.

He certainly couldn’t. 

Your shoulders fell as you shook your head - so minutely that Remus wondered if he had only imagined it - before you grabbed Sirius’ sleeve and dragged him towards the Ravenclaw table where both Pandora and Benjy accepted the pair of you without issue. 

He was simultaneously grateful that neither of you were sitting over here and furious that the two of you deigned to sit anywhere else. You were his; his friend, and his girlfriend, you were supposed to be here with him. 

But he didn’t want either of you over here, he didn’t want… 

He didn’t…

“Moony?” James asked cautiously.

“Don’t call me that.” Remus spat before he stood abruptly and stormed out of the Great Hall. 

He never wanted any of this; sure, he wanted to go to school, but he never wanted friends. He didn’t need friends, he’d never had them before. He met some kind kids on the train who ended up being his roommates, but he was ready and willing to hold them at arm's length. 

And then…

And then he found that he rather liked their company, and that they seemed to enjoy his. And then he found that he cared for them, and that they seemed to care for him. And then they found out, and they were accepting of him. And then they did the impossible and found a way to be there for him like no one else before, they showed up for him in ways no one else had ever tried, in ways he never imagined possible. 

And then he fell in love, and then…

And then. 

And then one of the worst people Remus could imagine to know learned of his darkest secret, his biggest shame, his lifelong curse. 

And he learned that from one of his best friends; Snape learned of Remus’ darkest secret, biggest shame, and lifelong curse from one of his best friends. 

And suddenly, everything everyone had ever said about lycanthropy was true; he was a monster, unloveable, a threat and hazard to everyone around him.

And as he paused in front of a window where he could see his reflection - three violent claw marks stretching from his left eye across the bridge of his nose down over his lips - the monster stared back at him. 

He was a beast. He was a monster playing dress up; cosplaying as a wizard day in and day out when in reality, deep down, he was a vicious, disgusting freak. 

And now everyone knew it; Sirius knew it, you knew it, Snape knew it.

And for those who didn’t know it, they could suspect it; rumours flying around of how Remus managed to be mauled by some creature and survive to tell the tale, because the only thing scarier than a beast among men is a man that can take on a beast and live to tell the tale.

The worst part-

But the thought made Remus snort humourlessly, because really, how could there be a worst part of any of this? What could possibly be ‘more worse’ than the worst thing to ever happen to him, second only to being bitten all those years ago. 

But Remus supposed, wand to his head, that the worst part of all of this was losing you.

Remus let out another humourless chuckle as he let his head fall with a thunk against the windowpane. 

And the absolute fucking kicker was that losing you had been his own doing. 

For the first time in perhaps five days, you were alone. 

You sat in the farthest corner of the library near rows of tomes with enough layers of dust on them to promise you some solitude as you waited for Sirius’ meeting with McGonagall to end. 

You’d convinced him (rather forced him) to start attending his classes again, though you were certain he wasn’t exactly a delight to have in the classroom at the moment. You only hoped it was enough for the school to refrain from writing home.

You dropped your quill and pressed your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars. Sirius was displeased with you for ordering him about. Regulus was displeased with you for babysitting Sirius and ‘cleaning up’ after him. Your parents were displeased with you seemingly because you were born with free will. Your professors were displeased with you for submitting sloppy work because you spent the majority of your time doing Sirius’ for him in order to keep him from being expelled. Your roommates were displeased with you for smuggling a dog into your room for the past week, even though he was very well behaved and slept dutifully on the end of your bed. And Remus…

And Remus. 

He had looked so hollow and… dead when he told you this needed to end, that he couldn’t see you anymore. You didn’t think he was capable of occlusion, but that was the only thing that could possibly explain how he could manage to look at you like you didn’t even matter to him anymore.

Perhaps you didn’t.

You didn’t matter. 

Perhaps you were too much like your brother; he couldn’t forgive him, so you were unforgivable too. Perhaps you were just too much of a Black for him; perhaps he realised the mistake in keeping your kind around. 

You couldn’t blame him, you supposed.

You were a tiresome bunch. You didn’t often want to keep your kind around, either. 

You shook yourself out of your pity party and returned to your notes, only to watch as Remus pulled out a chair opposite of you at your table. 

“The library’s plenty large, Lupin; I’m sure if you looked harder you could find another table.” you offered, hoping for indignation but landing somewhere around disheartened. 

“Is Sirius alright?” He murmured quietly, and you forced your eyes up to meet his. 

He looked dead tired; his eyes were sunken and his skin was missing its warm glow. But in his eyes laid an earnestness that had you remembering just how wholly safe and full you felt whenever you found yourself pinned beneath his gaze. 

You quickly looked away.

“Not really.” You replied honestly. “But I think he deserves that.” 

Remus made a noncommittal sound as he continued staring at the top of your head; you couldn’t see it, mind you, but you could certainly feel it.

“And you?” 

“What about me?”

“Are you alright?”

“Why?” You demanded, and you looked up in time to see Remus finally look down into his lap. 

You stared at him as he wrung his hands in his lap while you catalogued the scars across his face. You wondered if where they landed over his eyes caused him any vision issues. You wondered what the ones over the bridge of his nose would feel like as you traced your fingertip over them. You wondered what the ones on his lips might feel like under your own. 

You hated them, knowing that he did too, knowing how he came to have them. But you loved them because they were his, because it was him. Because you loved him. 

“Are you alright?” You decided to ask then, and he looked up at you as if he was surprised you were still there.

“No.” He responded quickly.

“I’m sorry.” You offered, though you knew not what for. You really hadn’t done anything. 

“How-” Remus started, though he quickly looked back down at his hands as he searched for the words.

You waited for him. 

“How…can you help him?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow, because whatever you thought Remus might’ve been about to ask, it certainly wasn’t that. 

“What?” You asked dumbly. 

“How can you help Sirius? After all that he’s done?” He continued gently.

“I… because, Remus, someone has to.” 

Remus nodded as he considered your response. “There’s a… part of me that feels as though you’re choosing him over me.” 

“Remus. You chose; you made that decision for me. I didn’t choose anyone’s side.”

“So if we were still dating right now, would you have forgiven Sirius?”

“Forgiven?” You repeated incredulously. “Who said anything about forgiveness?” 

Remus simply blinked at you owlishly. 

“Remus, I cannot just sit here and let him whither away into nothing because I’m mad at him. He fucked up - big time - there’s no question about it. And deep down, I know he knows that too; that’s why he’s been torturing himself over it. There is no way in which I could treat him that would be worse than the way he’s treating himself right now. But I-”

You shook your head as you fought off the stinging in your sinuses; you did not want to cry in front of him. 

“There is no one rooting for us, Remus. No one. You’re pissed at him - rightfully so, and completely justified - Potter and Pettigrew are pissed at him too, he’s pissed at himself and I… someone has to, Remus. Someone has to root for him, I can’t…I can’t just abandon him, not when there’s no one else.” 

“I can’t… I can’t feel bad for him, Y/N.” Remus exclaimed helplessly. 

“I’m not asking you to; I’m simply telling you why I do.” 

“I don’t…I don’t know how to forgive him, dove, I don’t know how to not hate him for this.” He nearly sobbed, holding his hands out helplessly as if the grief and torment were tangible things that he could crush in the palm of his hands if only he could catch them. “Why don’t you hate him? Please tell me? Because I genuinely want to know. I need to know - I don’t…I don’t want to hate him.” 

“He’s my brother, Rem.” You said simply, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “I hate what he’s done, I hate the choice he made, I hate the outcome of that choice, I hate what he did to you, I hate what that’s done to me, but… but I don’t hate him. I can't hate him.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a while; the only sounds coming from the odd book being magically sent back to its shelf and the odd voices from students downstairs when a study group got a touch too boisterous. 

“Do you hate me?” Remus whispered then; your eyes flit up to meet his which were already steady on you. 

“No, Remus.” You whispered back.

He nodded as his gaze fell. “Just what I did?” 

Your lip quirked in the faintest ghost of a smirk. “Yes I…I sort of hated that, I suppose.” 

“I don’t want to hate him.” He repeated.

“I know.” 

“Do you-” Remus paused, turning away and screwing his eyes shut as you realised he was crying. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”

“Remus…”

“I was scared, and hurt, and angry, and-” he hiccuped, reaching across the table as he nearly begged for your hand. You gave it willingly. “-and I hated him but I mostly hated myself.”

“I know, Rem.”

“Please? Do you…do you think you’d be able to forgive me? For leaving, for running, for abandoning you? You’ve never once given up on the people important to you and one bad thing happens to me and…and I just throw you away, I-” He looked at you as if he was only realising all of this now; hurt, frustration, anger, and betrayal all on your behalf flickered behind his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Remus.” You insisted, but he quickly shook his head at you. 

“It’s not; it’s not okay, I- … I’m not as gracious as you, clearly, but I just…I just feel like if you’re strong enough to forgive me then there’s…there’s hope for me, too. That maybe I can be strong enough to forgive Sirius.” 

“You’re forgiven, Remus.” 

His eyes fell shut as more tears fell, but you were sure it was more from relief than it was from pain. 

Both boys - Remus and Sirius - were so good at torturing themselves over choices they’ve made that you were certain no one else would ever have to as long as they both should live. 

And for different reasons, you loved them both beyond measure. 

“I don’t deserve forgiveness.” Remus whispered.

“Of course you do.” You countered, squeezing his hand in yours and watching as some of the tension in his shoulders dissipated. 

“Does Sirius?” He asked quietly, keeping his eyes pointed at where your joined hands sat on the table between you. 

You’re not sure when or how you became the leading expert on conflict resolution and forgiveness; perhaps it was in refereeing Sirius and Regulus’ petty squabbles growing up, perhaps it was in shielding Regulus from your parents fury, perhaps it was in trying to tame Sirius enough to keep him out of trouble, perhaps it was in being the youngest cousin along with Regulus and watching the siblings before you find their own ways to define what was right and good, perhaps…perhaps it came from the many examples of conflict and spite that you had witnessed growing up.

“I don’t know, Rem.” You answered honestly. “I think…I think the only one who can really know that is you.”

If he was displeased by your answer, he didn’t show it.

“But,” you continued cautiously, “I don’t think you have to forgive him for what he’s done. You just have to decide whether you’re going to hate him for it or love him in spite of it.” 

His lips pursed, pulling at scars both new and old in ways you’re not sure you’d ever grow tired of watching, as he nodded. “I don’t want to hate him.”

“I know, Rem.” 

“I don’t want James or Peter to hate him either…I don’t know why they were willing to watch him wither away like that.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at that; the first genuine smile since That Night. “They don’t, and they weren’t.” You countered, only moving to explain when he looked at you in bemusement. “They were the ones who told me how bad he was getting…they wanted to make sure someone was looking after him without giving into his pity party.” 

“Always taking care of everyone else, hm?” Remus murmured at you, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a delicate kiss to your knuckles. 

You simply hummed noncommittally. 

“Can I return the favour?”

“You can certainly try, but I’m quite high maintenance.” You teased gently. 

“That’s alright.” He agreed quickly. “You’re more than worth the effort.” 

You breathed out a quiet laugh through your nose. “Whatever you say, Lupin.”

[theorphicangel]

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, oral (m.receiving), blowjob, praise, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh

PART ONE.

“You have a valentine’s date?”

“God, O’Hara don’t even try to hide the surprise in your voice, why don’t you.”

You cross your arms, frowning at your roommate who was currently sitting next to you on the couch. The two of you were watching a remake of a new movie that had come out recently. An hour or so had passed, the both of you stuck within a comfortable silence before your words had distracted him.

“How could you blame me?” He begins, his gaze still on the television screen. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone home before.”

“So you keep notice on who I bring home?”

A pause runs between the two of you.

“No.”

“Liar.”

Miguel clears his throat. “It’s none of my business anyways, what you do.”

After a few beats of silence, Miguel speaks again, this time with a teasing tone. “I wouldn’t want to be like you anyways, keeping track of who I sleep with.”

“I do not keep track!” you exclaimed.

“How come you remembered Cindy’s name then?”

You hesitate, stuttering off. “You–you talk about her a lot.”

“Bullshit.” A grin creeps up across his lips.

“You jerk, I was gonna ask you for a favor but since you wanna play that game, nevermind.” You crossed your arms, turning your attention back to the screen. Simultaneously, you had just sparked off Miguel’s own curiosity.

“What’s the favor?”

“I don’t want to ask you anymore, I’ll ask someone else.”

“Like who? Peter?”

“Don’t be mean, mig’.”

The movie continues to play in the background for a minute or two before Miguel starts getting restless.

“So who's the guy then? Someone you paid?” Miguel’s grin doesn’t have the time to stretch across his lips this time as you throw a pillow to his face.

“Hey!”

“Watch your mouth, O’hara.”

The two of you had been roommates for just under a year. You had moved in due to an emergency situation. A few troubles with your finances, student loans and the loss of your job resulted in you desperately responding to a roommate advert posted on the internet. Moving in at the beginning was awkward, the two of you avoiding each other, minimal conversation revolving around the weather and who would take out the trash.

But all it took was one night for the both of you to open up to each other, a shift in your realization that Miguel wasn’t as bad as you thought. A few too many drinks one night led you to learn a lot about each other. Like how he didn’t like the dark yet had a weird obsession with space. You found that he had a brother, a few years younger than him who was almost a spitting image. For him, he learned how you once had wanted to be a painter but soon switched career paths to psychology as well as taking up a foreign language.

Ever since that night, you’ve managed to maintain a good friendship with Miguel, completed with a little teasing here and there. On some nights, when you were left alone in your room, you laid back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about him. Particularly, thinking about him and the girls which he brought home. Your mind wandered to the possibilities of what he would be like with them. Imagining what it would be like to be in their position.

How would he touch you, feel you, look at you? Would he be gentle and take his time or does he rush, his passion taking over his whole body? It was questions like these that plagued your mind. You began to create a fantasy in your head, touching yourself at the thought of him touching you; imagining his movements to be slow and cautious, taking you all for himself.

Speaking of, you’ve recently noticed his lack of…visitors lately. Instead of hiding away with them in his room, he’s recently been spending a lot of late nights in your company.

“What’s your plans for Valentine's Day?” you queried, trying to maintain a casual tone. “Taking Cindy out for a romantic dinner?”

Miguel scoffs, shaking his head a little. “Why don’t you ask her out yourself, since you’re so obsessed with the woman?”

A small wave of ease flows through your mind at his answer. Yet it wasn’t exactly the answer you wanted. You pat Miguel on the chest mockingly.

“I knew she said no to you. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here you kno—” Unfortunately you weren’t able to finish your sentence as a small scream left your mouth, as Miguel pinched your thigh.

“Watch it, imbécil.” he glared, before changing the topic. “But I’m serious, who's the poor guy then?”

You shoot an offended glare back before repositioning yourself on the couch, turning your body to face him properly.

“Someone asked me from work.”

“And you didn’t have to get on your knees and beg them first?” Playfully, you hit him on the arm and he lets out a fake wince of pain.

“Shut up. And no, for your information, I didn’t.”

Miguel hums, his eyes quickly glancing back to the television screen as he tries his best to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his lower abdomen. Guess he should cancel tomorrow then.

“But I had a favor to ask you.” you turn your body, shifting your position to face him. Miguel merely raises a brow, humming deeply again with his eyes still glued on the screen.

“I was wondering if you’d…show me how to—uhhh how do I put this? Suck someone off.”

Miguel froze. Oh, now you had his attention.

“¿Qué?”

You freeze, clearing your throat as his eyes snap back to you. “I mean it was just a suggestion– I-I’ve watched a few videos but I’m still kinda—I just— I mean, I don’t–”

“You don’t know how to give a blowjob?”

It was a bit more blunt than you had wanted to put it but…yes.

You nodded silently, now choosing to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted some tips, y’know? What do guys generally like? I’ve read that some like it differently than others so…”

“Why are you asking me?”

Ah yes, the million dollar question. Why were you asking your hot ass roommate for blowjob tips? You had the choice to ask anyone: your best friend, or another friend or even a random stranger on the internet. Why him?

“You’re…experienced.” was all that you could come up with. “And not in a bad way!” You quickly correct. “ but I can assume you’ve had your good shares of…that.”

Miguel raises a brow again, swallowing thickly. Anxiety was now bubbling at the base of his stomach. You were asking him how to please a man and immediately his mind jumped at the thought of you with your valentine’s date at the end of the night. Ah, you were asking for your date.

“Well, did you just want tips or did you…” he trails off without finishing the sentence, thinking how weird it would be to finish the sentence that had popped up in his mind.

“ ‘Or did I’ what?” You repeat, tilting your head ever so innocently.

“Or did you want to practice on me?”

/

And that’s how you got here. Kneeling on the floor between the thighs of your very own roommate whom you have only known for less than a year. Was this what you were expecting when asking for advice? Of course not. But there was a sense of excitement that grew in the pit of your stomach and you weren’t going to complain about it.

“So how do I start?” You glance up at Miguel, your eyes wide with innocence and curiosity to learn. Just from the way that you looked at him, he was already beginning to get hard.

“Well, you just start.”

You roll your eyes, “Okay, doofus. So you expect me to just get into it? No foreplay or anything?”

“There’ll probably be some foreplay with your date and stuff but…we don’t have to do that.”

For a split second there’s an aura of hesitation between the two of you; him regretting his last words and you almost wanting to reject his assumption. Mutually, there’s a little voice inside of you that tempts you both to take the chance and do this properly.

But of course, this was a lesson.

A mere, innocent favor from a roommate. With no strings attached. Or feelings for that matter.

Even if it killed you both to suppress them.

You nod silently, taking mental notes. Miguel raised his hips a little to pull down his sweatpants, enough so that you could access him with ease. Now you’re starting to get nervous. Your heart was palpitating so much that you could hear your own heartbeat thump in your ears. “I-”

“If you don’t want to, we can stop.” He quips quickly, noticing your hesitation.

You pause, reflecting for the final time whether or not you wanted to do it. Once you made your decision, you glanced up at Miguel.

“It’s not like I have much time left to practice, right?”

Miguel raises a brow. After all, Valentine's day was tomorrow so you needed all the practice that you could get. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” you vocalized, trying to sound more confident in this way.

“Okay, lemme just–” Miguel mumbled to himself as tugs down his boxers. You noticed the way the bottom of his shirt hiked up a little, presenting his happy trail; a dark bush of hair leading all the way down to his…

Oh.

It’s big. Bigger than you thought. And he’s not even hard yet.

Miguel seethes a little, his cock only semi-hard. He pumps himself a few times before removing his hand, leaving it up to you. His arms now rest on the back edge of the couch, widening his thighs a little more for accessibility.

‘Holy shit’, you think to yourself, how the fuck were you supposed to deal with this?

Miguel caught onto your expression, panic drawn all over your face. “We can–”

“No.” you interrupt him, reading his apprehension too. His concern for you is more than obvious. “I want to.”

Miguel chuckles a little, “I was going to suggest to take it slow but yeah, if you’re still up for it.”

You swallow thickly, edging nearer before planting your hands on his thighs. This is so alien to you. After many months of tiptoeing around him at a distance, it was scary how fast you found yourself in a position of intimacy with him.

Sure, many times before have you fantasized about what it would be like to get close to him. With the sounds of moans coming from his bedroom late at night, it wasn’t hard for you to figure out how much of a woman pleaser he was.

Slowly, your hand wraps around his cock, feeling him get harder and harder with every second that passes. You think back to the videos that you had watched previous to this, noticing that most of the women decide to give a few strokes before going in with their mouth. You imitate them easily, watching your hand move.

You take in every fine detail: every vein, every twitch, every shade leading from the tip to the base. The crown of his cock is thick, becoming redder with every stroke as juices of pre-cum subtly spilling away.

“Jus’ like that.” Miguel murmurs and you notice how his tone is a little lighter than before. “When you’re ready, you can lick the tip a little, warm yourself up to it.”

You hum in response. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet at least.

Once again, you think back to the porn videos you had watched, imitating the women by tracing little circles across the tip of his dick. Miguel lets out a drawn out groan and little by little you can feel his body relax as you continue on. It tastes salty. The tip of his cock is reddened and soft.

For a minute or two you continue to trace circles, closing your eyes in the moment, allowing yourself to relax and get rid of any nerves or doubt. Miguel says nothing more, his teeth softly biting down on his lower lip, he watches as you hesitate, unsure of how to continue from here.

Miguel’s hand soon reaches for your chin, causing you to pause and tilt your head up towards him. His hand cups right under your lips and your face turns to confusion for a split second before he lets out his command.

“Spit.”

For some reason, your body listens to him without a second thought.

“It’s okay if it gets messy,” he advises, “the messier the better.”

You make a mental note of that.

You make sure to be careful with your teeth as your lips part around his cock. Once again you take it slow, letting your mouth adjust to his size. He’s bigger and thicker than you had expected, barely halfway before he already fills up your mouth. Your eyes water as you attempt to take him whole, a decision which you realize quickly was too hasty as you reach your gag reflex.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t– mierda!” Miguel sits up a little, trying to pace you. Your eyes water and saliva continues to pool out of your mouth, dripping down to his balls. Your cheeks are full of his cock and as if following his instincts, Miguel almost wants to hold your head there. It takes all of his resilience not to place his hand at the back of your head. He let out a grunt at the warmth of your mouth, coaxing him to stay a little longer. But unfortunately if he does, then he may cum sooner rather than later.

You feel his fingers tap your shoulder, “Hey–” he manages to draw out, “brea–breathe through your nose.” You attempt to do so, just letting off a few inches of his dick, letting your hand stroke whatever you can’t take. With you, you can build up a pace more freely, bobbing your head up and down. You close your eyes, concentrating on keeping your rhythm, a steady pace for now.

Fuck it, Miguel gives into his instincts, letting a hand cup the back of your head ever so lightly.

“Fuck, keep going… you’re doing so well.”

Miguel’s praises boost your confidence, the simple phrase removing past doubts that had cast over you. You pause to allow yourself to breathe, your hand stroking his length in the meanwhile and Miguel seems to cup your chin again.

“Mírame.”

One simple order and he has you hooked and, god, you have a gorgeous view.

His dark brows are deeply furrowed. Chest rising and falling heavily, His hands are now by his side, prominent veins from his other arm lead to the back of his hand which currently grips a pillow on the couch. His eyes are beginning to droop, with his head tilted back slightly. You notice how his Adam apple bobs in his throat with every guttural hum that he makes. His mouth is just about agape enough for you to spot his pink tongue peeking out at you.

And as for him? The sight of you is more wondrous than he could ever imagine. Your eyes are also heavy-lidded. Lips plump and wet with saliva dripping down your chin. This is a side of you that he’s never seen before. Your eyes glow with submission, the innocence and inexperience peeling off of you. If you keep looking at him with that expression, he’s not particularly confident that he’ll be able to hold on for that long.

“Don’t stop looking at me, okay?”

You hum a little before your lips open wide to wrap around his cock again. Yet this time, you manage to keep eye contact. Another unrestrained grunt leaves Miguel’s mouth, his lips parting once more.

You’d say that you’re confident now, relaxed more than ever – confident enough to begin exploring. Keeping his cock in your mouth, you begin to bob your head at a rhythmic pace and at the same time a free hand reaches down to his base, lightly tracing over his balls.

A sharp inhale leaves his mouth. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that, nena?”

You hum in response, the vibration of your mouth causing a helpless moan from your roommate. You focus near the tip of his cock, returning back to tracing circles over the slit. One hand still pumps the rest of him whilst the other gently teases his balls with your fingertips.

He’s closer than you think. And you can tell by the way that his hips begin to shift a little as if he’s trying to get more of your touch. He tilts his head back, chest rising and falling at a more dramatic pace. “Shit–shit–shit-m’gonna, m’gonna cum– if– if you keep going… oh fuck!”

“Wan’ me to swallow it all?”

You’re practically teasing him at this point. Fuck, he’ll do anything, anything. And this time he doesn’t hold back in vocalizing this, the words ‘yes’ falling from his tongue, pleading, begging you to continue. “Yes, yes, don’t fucking stop.”

You decide to grant him his wishes, turning to a faster pace as you stroke his length with your hand. You can feel his cock twitching, thick veins rubbing against your palm.

“You close, mig’?” you taunt, watching as he closes his eyes in pure euphoria. He nods, inchorant words fall from his lips in a babble as his hips jerk upwards and his thighs tense around you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck m’cumming! M’gonna–”

Miguel manages to cut himself off with a deep groan, lifting his hips up as you wrap your lips around him for the last time. His cock twitches, veins pulsating as your mouth is filled with his white seed. You swallow as much as you can, trying to bear the salty taste. His cum is thick, spurting so much out you think you won’t be able to keep up. Some leaks out, dripping down his shaft. As soon as you’ve swallowed, you lap up what you missed.

“Fuck, wait, wait–”

“M’cleaning you up.” you mumble. You can tell how sensitive he is. Just from your tongue lightly licking his length so as to not waste anything, his cock twitches. Once satisfied, you pull away, your tongue licking at your bottom lip.

Apart from the sound of the now forgotten movie playing in the background and the sound of light panting coming from Miguel, there’s a silence between the both of you.

You lean back, resting on your heels as you begin to grow aware of your actions.

You’ve just sucked off your roommate. Correction. Your hot ass roommate.

Neither of you know what to say. You begin to avoid his eye contact, feeling the awkwardness creep in. Yet, it fails to fully entrap you as Miguel chooses to bite the dust and speaks first.

“For someone with a mouth that doesn’t shut up, I’m surprised you know how to use it well.” he mutters, pulling up his boxers and sweatpants.

All tension from your body begins to evaporate, a slight smile appearing on your lips.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” you frown, wiping off remnants of his cum mixed with your saliva from your lips with the back of your hand.

“Nothing, nothing. You were just…good for someone who hadn’t done anything like this before.”

Unlike when you were sucking him off, his praise causes heat to rise to your cheeks, your face burning up. And like a few moments ago too, you continue to avoid his eyes.

Clearing your throat, you move to stand, gesturing that you’re about to go to your room. The movie is just about over but neither you nor him were worried about that anymore.

“Any other advice that I should take?” you say.

Miguel frowns, taking a few moments to think deeply. If he’s being completely honest with himself, that orgasm has crushed him. Leaving him with nothing but thoughts of you and that sweet mouth of yours. Just thinking about it almost makes him hard again.

A part of him almost dares to tell you to forget your date tomorrow and to go out with him tomorrow. The card and flowers addressed to you, wait patiently in his room, a last-minute gift after weeks of building up the courage to ask you. All that courage is lost now though.

He’s too late.

“No.” He says, finally, going against his instincts. “Just do exactly what you did for me.”

“No complaints?”

“No complaints.” He clarifies. A deep pit of regret and hurt builds up again in his lower stomach, a feeling that he’ll have to start getting used to. He deserves it, he thinks, for not asking you sooner. He has no right to be jealous that someone else beat him to it. Not when he wasn’t dropping enough signs to prove that…

he’s falling in love with you.

Before entering your bedroom, you pause, the door leading to your bedroom slightly ajar. “Hey.”

Miguel glancing up to look at you.

“Thanks.”

Miguel says nothing more and really he should be the one thanking you for the heaven that you’ve just taken him to. He waits until he hears your bedroom door close and lock before letting out a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding in.

After he’s sure that you won’t return, Miguel pulls out his phone, tapping his screen until he reaches a certain page.

‘Are you sure you want to cancel your reservation for a ‘table for two’ on the 14th of February ?’

After a mere moment of hesitation, he confirms. His thumb clicking on ‘yes’.

part 2.

[joocomics]

ಬ scaredy cat

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: smut — mdni! wc: 1.9k

contains: friends with benefits trope, sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, overstimulation (f!rec), hickeys

During the slow boring hours of work the other day you created a list with the pros and cons of possibly dating Yeonjun.

For a while now he’s been throwing you signals about getting serious (more often than not), so you thought it would be a good idea to look at this more thoroughly, and kill some time until your shift is finally over. Aware of the already strong feelings you have for him you grab a pen and start writing…

… funny and reliable

likes to cuddle but not clingy

great sense of fashion

(extremely) good at sex

has a super cool tv …

“Is this why you've been coming over more often these days?” Yeonjun returns into the living room with drinks in hand. After sitting down on the edge of the couch which he transforms into a comfy bed every time you're here, he turns to you with a raised brow. “To watch your disgusting movies on my new TV?”

“My disgusting movies are well written cinematic experiences that you're too big of a scaredy cat to recognize the full worth of.” You explain, crossing arms in front of your chest. “And they're even cooler on your TV, so to answer your question, yes.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes at you, but you can notice there’s a half-smile creeping up on his plump lips as he looks away with amusement.

“Actually,” you say almost through laughter which brings Yeonjun’s attention back to you, “recently I made a list with your good and bad qualities and your new TV made it.”

“That's not a quality.”

Now you’re the one who rolls eyes before glancing back at the screen.

“Just be grateful it's there to fill up space in the pros column.”

“So what are my bad qualities?” Yeonjun asks intrigued just when the main character of the horror film screams hysterically at the sight of yet another body, causing his heart to jump. He flinches at the sudden sound and instantly turns his back to the screen. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, who watches this kind of shit for fun?!”

You watch him scooting over and laugh at his attempts to avoid seeing the screen while doing so as the horrible scene unfolds on the large TV.

He positions next to you and now you're shoulder to shoulder.

“I still haven't gotten to them.”

“Don't waste your time,” he sighs, adjusting against the pillow, “I don't have any.”

“Don't be so sure about that.” You quickly respond, “I had to get back to work and then I forgot.”

“Because I don't have any.” He repeats after tittering. He finally dares to glance at the screen as it seems that the gory scene has passed.

“You get jealous pretty easily.” You state cautiously, wanting to shoot him a discreet look so bad, but you resist.

You also want to add, and pretty obviously, but you keep that detail for yourself as you remember how overprotective he was the other night at the birthday party you were invited to. It resulted into you getting asked the same question over and over again. Your friends were having a hard time believing you’re not dating.

Yeonjun remains silent for a moment as he tilts his head to see you. He leans in, just a little bit, to make your cheeks warm from the sudden closeness; to bring goosebumps across your skin from his mouth being close enough to your ear as he speaks through low voice.

“So it’s a bad thing that I don’t like sharing what’s mine?”

His gaze holds onto yours causing the fireworks into your stomach to ignite even harder. It’s like your heart stops for a second, and your brain as well, making the task to come up with a good answer on time challenging. It’s so obvious at this point that you’re taking too much time; too fumbled by the last word in his sentence. And especially by how much you like its presence there; how you’re already getting used to the sound of it in his voice.

Your lips part, not to speak, but to kiss him instead when another jumpscare makes him wince.

Too busy to hide his face into your chest, he only groans in despair, simultaneously pulling the blanket over your tangled bodies. One airy shit! slips from beneath it. The dramatic spine-chilling soundtrack overpowers the cussing, but you catch it nevertheless.

He sounds as if he's the one being tortured.

“Poor baby,” you tease him by cooing. “Is this too scary for you?”

He murmurs something about you shutting your mouth, but the anguish is making his frustrated words incoherent.

“How much left till the end?”

“Like an hour and a half,” you start running your fingertips through his dark hair as he adjusts even further into your arms. His head finds a comfortable spot onto your chest.

“I’ll just close my eyes for a little while…” his voice is slower than a moment ago, and you hum softly in agreement.

It’s almost like your familiar scent can lull him to sleep despite the scary movie playing in the background. He can feel his muscles loosen up, his mind relaxing with each peaceful breath you take.

Until the noise of a new jumpscare comes to frighten him again.

“I will add this in my cons list by the way.” You cackle.

Yeonjun’s brows furrow, but you can’t see his irritated eyes, because his face is hidden into your neck.

You can feel his warm breath caressing your skin once he speaks up.

“I know what will help me calm down.”

As the words slip lazily one by one from his lips, his hand slides down between your thighs. His fingertips feel the nice fabric of your little cotton shorts that seem too tight around your curves. They keep roaming around, rising your body temperature, until he guides them to your clothed clit, putting just enough pressure on it while his mouth nibbles on the skin of your neck.

“But… I want to finish the movie,” you whine softly before shutting your eyes at the thrill he’s causing you to feel kiss after kiss.

“You keep watching, baby.” His lips detach from your neck and curl up into a sinful smirk.

You centre your head again, watching him pull down your shorts as the screen behind him paints his silhouette in dark blue and purple hues, turning his features even more seductive.

Half of the fuzzy blanket is now almost on the ground as you keep your legs spread open. Yeonjun’s hand rubs in continuous circling motions that he synchronises with your breathing. Focusing entirely on your body helps him completely ignore the on going movie you keep watching with interest. He’s giving his full attention to your little squirming movements, to your rhythmical breathes, and to the erotic sounds that start escaping your mouth more frequently only to mix with the background noise in the room.

There are fresh bruises forming on your neck, but he continues to suck, making himself drool from how much he enjoys doing it. The only time he backs away is when he pushes two fingers inside you for the first time and he gets the urge to taste them, as it often happens when he’s pleasing you.

“Mmm, you always taste so good.” He humms after unwrapping his lips from his fingertips. His mouth has a red tint to it, glistening with moisture. “So fuckin’ wet for me, can you feel it?”

“Fuck, don’t stop—“ The only thing you’re able to say when he slips back into your arousal is to keep going. His fingers curl up perfectly, and aiming for the right spot they start thrusting in a steady pace causing your moans to shake. “Yeah, just like that... yeah—“

Yeonjun buries his face into the crook of your neck while starting to breathe more heavily too.

You keep closing and opening your heavy eyes at the screen where an intense moment is looming, filling the room with an intense instrumental music, but all he can register is the noises you keep losing control over. His hand flexes while increasing its speed in order to push you closer to the desired peak and it swiftly succeeds.

Your attention level drops and your head falls to one side with your eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

“Sounds so pretty,” he comments at your ear as the wet lewd noise keeps erupting with the nonstop slamming of his palm against your slick folds. Just the way you like it. “You’re close, doll.”

His fingers, stuck between your pulsing walls, get squished tighter as the seconds pass by. He keeps up the quick and smooth pacing until your breaking point comes in, forcing it to turn sloppy and rigid.

“Fuck, there you go,” Yeonjun’s chuckle rings out with a husky tone, only adding to the ecstatic effects of your intense climax.

Your whole body squirms as Yeonjun lets his fingers, wet and sticky, rest still on your throbbing clit. The fluids slowly spill out of you, forming a dark spot on the couch as the sensation turns more light and mellow, but he doesn’t mind it.

You’re still regaining your normal breathing when his fingertips start skidding rapidly along your soaked folds. You whimper at the unexpected contact with your clit that’s now extra sensitive, causing intense reactions from your body at even the smallest touch.

As he doesn’t show any signs of slowing down you whine his name, but without being able to utter any other word.

“Give me one more, baby.” He whispers, effortlessly sliding his fingers up and down your slickness in an indescribable way; so fast, so determined to receive more from you. “C’mon, doll.”

You pant uncontrollably under his tireless touch. The dancing of his fingers keep up the same energy, making you clench as they create another burning knot of pleasure in your core. Once it bursts, you’re not able to stay still and Yeonjun tries his best to keep his hand on your puffy lips so he can rub till the second orgasm washes over you.

Your legs tremble when he enters you with the same eager fingers, curious to feel how wet you are. The pool of arousal welcomes him with ease, and he cannot help but start fantasising how good it would feel to have his cock deep inside you right now. He can give it to you, but making you cum multiple times like this is just as exciting.

He notices your eyes are half-closed while gazing down between your thighs.

“Keep watching, sweetheart.” He says softly, but with a slight hint of demand which makes you look up on the instant. “You don’t want to miss anything from the movie, that’s why you’re here, right?”

He glides slowly through your tight walls and you both sense how they keep throbbing against him from lust and sensitivity. You take a deep shaky breath, trying to concentrate on the story line, but it’s so hard when he’s in the middle of building up a new wave of rush while hiding in the crook of your neck. Running his tongue over his own love marks now and then.

You bite your lip at the realisation of how much is still left from the movie that is about to become the reason your brain is going to turn completely numb and your pussy sore by the end of this Halloween night.

But the thing you will always associate it with first, from this day forward, is you officially becoming his.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[a-lexia11]

Pequeniña

FCB Femini x teen!reader

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

Word count:2,8k

Summary: At 16, Y/N joins Barcelona and earns the nickname “Pequeniña” due to her youth and her small height. As the youngest member of the team, she receives a lot of attention from her older teammates, who are particularly protective of her.

Based on this request.

The moment I stepped off the plane in Barcelona, my heart was in my throat. Everything felt larger than life—the airport, the city, and most of all, the opportunity ahead of me.

At sixteen, I was about to join FC Barcelona femini , a team filled with players I’d idolized for as long as I could remember. It felt surreal, like a dream I was about to wake up from at any moment.

I clutched the strap of my bag tightly as I navigated the bustling terminal, my mind spinning with a mix of excitement and nerves.

I had visited Spain before with my family, but this time was different. This wasn’t a holiday; this was my life now.

My Spanish was decent—good enough to get by—but the rapid conversations around me made me feel like I was back in school, struggling to keep up.

I could understand a lot, but speaking it fluently was another challenge altogether. Every word felt heavy on my tongue, and my nerves didn’t help.

The club had made arrangements for me to stay in a small hotel for the time being, which was intended as a temporary solution until a more permanent living situation could be established.

My parents had to remain in England due to their work commitments, and they also had the responsibility of caring for my younger siblings.

As a result, I found myself needing to adjust to this new environment on my own while waiting for a more stable and lasting accommodation to be found.

The room was nice, but it felt empty, cold. Every night, I missed the comforting chaos of my home in England—the noise of my younger siblings, the constant presence of my parents. I video-called them as much as I could, but it wasn’t the same.

They tried to reassure me, reminding me that this was the opportunity of a lifetime. They were right, of course, but that didn’t make the loneliness any easier.

Each morning, I would take the bus to the training ground. The ride was long, and I often found myself lost in thought, staring out the window as the city of Barcelona rushed past me.

The streets were vibrant and full of life, but I still felt like an outsider. On the bus, I tried to blend in, hoping no one would notice the nervous English girl clutching her bag like a lifeline.

The training ground was a different story. It was a place where I felt both at home and out of my depth at the same time. I was surrounded by football legends—players like Alexia Putellas, Aitana Bonmatí, Caroline Graham Hansen.

They were the best in the world, and here I was, trying to prove that I belonged on the same pitch as them. My shyness didn’t help. I kept to myself during those first few weeks, not wanting to draw too much attention.

My teammates quickly noticed this about me, and before long, they started calling me “Pequeniña” which I soon learned meant "little one" in Spanish.

At first,I did not really like but then I realized it was their way of showing affection, of letting me know that they had my back.

One day during training, I was paired with Fridolina Rolfö for some drills. She was kind but focused, her movements precise and powerful.

I watched her closely, trying to emulate her technique, but I was still a bit hesitant.

“Y/N, relax,” Frido said, her voice gentle yet firm as she passed the ball to me. “You’ve got the skills, you just need to trust yourself.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m just… I don’t want to mess up.”

“You won’t,” she reassured me warmly, stepping closer and gently placing her hand on my shoulder. “And even if you do make a mistake, that’s a natural part of the learning process. We’re all here to support and guide you through it.”

Her words gave me a bit of confidence, and I focused on the drill.

By the end of the session, I felt like I had improved, even if just a little. As we wrapped up, Irene Paredes came over, smiling warmly and wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

“Good job today, Y/N,” she said, squeezing me lightly. “You’re getting there. Just keep working hard.”

“Thanks, Irene,” I replied, feeling a bit more at ease around her. Irene was someone I admired for her creativity on the pitch, and knowing she believed in me meant a lot.

Despite their encouragement, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was out of place. It wasn’t just about the football—though that was a huge part of it—it was everything.

Living in the hotel, navigating a new city, trying to fit in with a team that had already established itself as a family. I was the outsider, the youngest, the shy little girl who didn’t quite know where she belonged.

But Keira and Lucy were incredibly supportive; they are the other English girls on the team. It was really reassuring to converse with them in English and have some familiar company around.

Their presence made me feel more at ease and provided a sense of camaraderie.

——

One evening, after a particularly tough training session, I found myself alone in the lounge area of the training complex, scrolling through my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen, debating whether to call my parents.

I missed them more than I wanted to admit. That’s when Alexia Putellas found me.

“You okay, pequeniña?” she asked, sitting down beside me and putting her arm around my shoulders pulling me closer. Her presence was calming, and I immediately felt a little better just having her near.

“Yeah, just… thinking,” I replied, trying to downplay the homesickness that was gnawing at me.

Alexia looked at me for a moment, her eyes filled with understanding. “You know, if you ever need anything, you can always come to me.”

“I know” I said, though I still hesitated to lean on her too much. She was the captain, a legend—I didn’t want to burden her with my problems.

But Alexia wasn’t one to take no for an answer when it came to looking after her teammates, especially someone she had taken under her wing.

——

A few days later, she spotted me making my way to the training ground. The bus stop was only about a fifteen-minute walk from the facility, so I had to walk the rest of the way.

As I was walking, I suddenly heard a car honk behind me. Turning around, I spotted Alexia in her car, her familiar smile greeting me as she pulled up beside me.

She stopped and rolled down the window. “Hola, Pequeniña, are you walking to training?” she asked, her tone light and playful.

“Hi, Alexia. Yes, I am,” I responded with a small laugh. “The bus stop is about 15 minutes away, so I’m walking the rest of the way.”

She nodded thoughtfully before getting out of the car and grabbing my bag without hesitation. “Come on, get in. We’re going together,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I watched as she walked to the trunk, placing my bag inside with care. A warm smile spread across my face as she opened the passenger door for me, and I slid into the seat, feeling grateful for her kindness.

During the final ten minutes of the car ride, Alexia asked me why I didn’t have anyone to take me to training and where I was living.

I hesitated, feeling a bit uncomfortable about sharing, but eventually, I confessed that I was staying alone in a hotel while my family was back in England.

Alexia's expression softened with concern, her brows knitting together as she said, “A 16-year-old shouldn’t be living alone, especially in a city you don’t know well, in a hotel, and where you’re still getting used to the language.”

Her sympathy was clear, and I could tell she genuinely worried about my situation. I simply shrugged in response, unsure of what else to say.

She was right, of course, but I didn’t have any other options at the moment. I had to manage the best I could.

After training, I was in the changing room getting ready to leave when Alexia came up to me. “I’m taking you to your hotel so you can pack your bags,” she said with determination.

I looked at her, puzzled. “What?”

“You’re moving in with me,” she replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I was taken aback. She wanted me to move in with her? It seemed our conversation in the car had made an impression on her.

“Oh, it’s really okay, Alexia. You don’t have to do that,” I said, offering her a gentle smile. “I’ll manage living in the hotel. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m not taking no for an answer,” she insisted firmly. “You’re too young to be living on your own. You’re coming home with me,” she declared, leaving no room for argument.

"But… I don’t want to be a burden," I protested, already feeling like I was intruding on her life.

"You’re not a burden, Y/N," she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You shouldn’t be living alone in a hotel. It’s not right. You need a place that feels like home, and I want you to feel safe and comfortable. And, it’ll be easier for you to focus on football if you’re not worrying about all of that."

I tried to argue, but Alexia was insistent.

And so, I found myself moving into her apartment.

——

It was a bit strange at first, adjusting to living with someone who wasn’t family. But Alexia made it feel like home.

She cooked for me, made sure I was eating properly, and even helped me with my Spanish.

Living with her made everything easier. She wasn’t just my captain anymore—she was like a second mother, someone I could rely on.

During training, Alexia kept a close eye on me, always offering advice and encouragement. She wasn’t the only one, though.

Vicky, who was around my age, quickly became my closest friend.

Vicky had this infectious energy that made it impossible to be shy around her for long.

She was always cracking jokes and making everyone laugh, and it didn’t take long for her to pull me out of my shell.

“Vamos, Y/N, no puedes estar seria todo el tiempo. Divirtámonos un poco” (Come on, Y/N, you can't be serious all the time. Let's have some fun) she would say with a grin whenever she wanted to do something mischievous with the older girl.

Or she would always invited me to go out with her and Martina, who is also around our age.

“¿Has probado la comida de ese lugar que está al final de la calle?” (Have you tried the food at that place down the street yet?) Vicky asked, out of the blue as she dribbled the ball around me.

“Not yet,” I replied, trying to keep up with her quick movements.

“Deberíamos ir después del entrenamiento algún día” (We should go after training sometime) Martina suggested, her voice calm and measured as she passed the ball to me. “Tienen tapas muy buenas” (They have really good tapas.)

“Suena bien, pero tendré que preguntarle a Alexia” (Sounds good, but I’ll have to ask Alexia) I agreed, feeling a little thrill of excitement.

“Oh, es verdad—tienes que pedirle permiso a Mami Alexia antes de hacer cualquier cosa” (Oh, that's right—you need to ask Mami Alexia for permission before doing anything) Vicky teased, and I responded by sticking my tongue out at her.

I had developed a new habit of asking Alexia for permission every time Vicky invited me out, just like I used to do with my mom back in England.

——

As the season went on, I started to find my footing, both on and off the pitch.

The more I trained with my teammates, the more I felt like I was part of something special. And yet, there were still moments when my confidence wavered—especially during matches.

One game in particular stands out in my memory. We were playing against a tough, physical team, and I was struggling to hold my own.

I had the ball, trying to maneuver past a defender who was easily twice my size.

She shoved me hard, and I went down, hitting the ground with a thud that rattled my bones.

For a split second, I was stunned, the wind knocked out of me. But before I could even gather my thoughts, I heard Alexia’s voice, sharp and protective.

She was already there, standing between me and the other player. “¡¿Qué te pasa?!” (What’s wrong with you?) she snapped, her eyes blazing with a fierceness I had never seen before.

Aitana and Ingrid quickly joined her, forming a protective wall in front of me. The referee blew the whistle, but the message was clear—no one was going to mess with their “Pequeniña.”

I struggled to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest. I was grateful for my teammates’ protection, but at the same time, I felt a bit embarrassed.

I didn’t want to be the reason they had to stop the game or the one who needed defending all the time.

As I brushed off the dirt from my kit, Alexia turned to me, her expression softening as she placed a hand on my shoulder, bending down a little.

“Are you okay, nena?”she asked gently, her voice no longer laced with anger but concern.

I nodded, even though my pride was a little bruised. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Alexia.”

She smiled at me, the tension from a moment ago easing into something warmer. “Don’t let them push you around. You’re stronger than you think, Y/N.”

I took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. I knew she believed in me, and that meant a lot.

As the game continued, I tried to focus on that belief, using it to fuel my determination.

The rest of the match was tough, but I kept pushing, determined to show that I belonged on this team.

After the game, we all gathered in the locker room, the air filled with a mix of exhaustion and relief.

We had won, and everyone was in good spirits. As I was unlacing my boots, Caroline came over and sat down beside me.

“You did well out there,” she said with a nod of approval. “It’s not easy going up against players like that.”

I looked up at her, surprised. “Really? I feel like I could’ve done better.”

Caroline smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “We all feel that way sometimes. But trust me, you held your own. And next time, you’ll be even better.”

Her words made me feel a little lighter, and I smiled back. “Thanks, Caroline.”

The locker room was bustling with activity, everyone chatting and laughing as they packed up their gear. I was about to head out when Vicky and Martina caught up with me.

“¡Hey, Y/N! ¿Te gustaría acompañarnos a cenar esta noche?” (Hey, Y/N! Are you up for grabbing dinner with us tonight?) Vicky asked, her eyes bright with excitement. “Estamos pensando en probar ese lugar de tapas que mencionó Martina” (We’re thinking of trying that tapas place Martina mentioned.)

I glanced at Alexia, aware that she was listening and silently seeking her approval. She responded with a gentle nod and a warm smile.

I looked back at Vicky and Martina before nodding my head happily.

“¡Genial!” (Great!) Martina chimed in, her calm demeanor a perfect balance to Vicky’s energy. “Será agradable relajarse después del partido” (It’ll be nice to unwind after that game.)

As we left the stadium, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for these moments of normalcy. Despite everything—the challenges, the homesickness, the pressure—I was starting to find my place here.

I wasn’t just the shy English girl anymore; I was becoming part of the team, part of this family.

——

As the weeks went by, I continued to settle into my new life. Training was intense, but I was improving every day.

My Spanish has improved significantly, to the point where I no longer require translations during training sessions.

I’ve become much more comfortable and fluent, allowing me to understand and participate in conversations and instructions without any difficulty.

My teammates were amazing—both on the pitch and off. They treated me like family, always looking out for me, always pushing me to be better.

But it wasn’t just about football. Living with Alexia had given me a sense of stability, something I desperately needed.

I could not say it enough but she really was more than just a mentor—she was someone I could rely on, someone who cared about me as a person, not just as a player.

One evening, after a particularly long day of school and training, I sat on the couch in Alexia’s living room, scrolling through my phone.

Alexia was in the kitchen, making dinner. The smell of something delicious wafted through the apartment, and I realized how much I had come to appreciate these quiet moments with her.

“Hey, Pequeñina ,” Alexia called from the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready. Want to help me set the table?”

“Sure,” I said, putting my phone down and heading to the kitchen. I grabbed some plates and cutlery, setting them out on the small dining table.

As we sat down to eat, Alexia looked at me with a thoughtful expression. “You know, Y/N, you’ve come a long way since you first got here.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “Thanks, Alexia. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

She shook her head, her eyes soft. “Eres más fuerte de lo que piensas, nena. Solo me alegra haber podido ayudarte a darte cuenta de eso” (You’re stronger than you think, nena. I’m just glad I could help you see that.)

We ate in comfortable silence for a while, the bond between us stronger than ever. I realized then how lucky I was to have her in my life, to have all of my teammates.

They weren’t just protecting me—they were helping me grow, helping me find my place in this new world.

FIN

[carpentvrs]

VICIOUS – Theodore Nott

pairing :: theodore nott x f!reader (implied Gryffindor!reader but never mentioned)

summary :: (enemies to lovers). when you and theo get paired up for the nightly prefect-patrols, the yearlong hatred between the two of you may come to an end. or not.

based on the song vicious by sabrina carpenter

warnings :: angst!! she/her pronouns, use of y/n & y/l/n (only a few times), lots of cursing, british, mentions of killing someone (not serious), smoking, drinking, typos probably, 4.1k words

a/n :: english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes and feel free to correct me! this is my first story published on tumblr so i’m a bit nervous. my requests are open, feel free to share your ideas and I’ll come up with something!!

„As a result of the ongoing danger in and outside of Hogwarts, the prefects will now walk around in pairs during their nightly patrols after curfew. And to show that Hogwarts and the witches and wizards attending this school stick together in such times, we have decided to pair up prefects from different houses.“

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you sat on your usual seats in the great hall as Professor McGonagall made the announcement. The boys and Mione didn’t really care about the announcement, considering none of them are prefects. Hermione at least listened to what the professor was saying, sometimes poking Ron in his arm to make him stop bickering and start listening, too.

You however, you didn’t take the news as easily as your friends.

Once you realized that being friends with Harry had its downsides, you started to appreciate the everyday repetitiveness. The homey things.

Ignoring the strength of the dark side in the wizarding world, you found comfort in the mornings at Hogwarts that were always the same. The fun you had at lunch with the boys and Hermione and the quidditch trainings and matches you could always look forward to.

It gave you a sense of normality in an abnormal world, just like your nightly patrols did.

Whatever may have happened during the day, you could overthink it during those few hours you had for yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, occasionally greeting and having small talk with the other prefects or scolding the little amount of students you would catch sneaking around from time to time.

Those patrols were your way of coping with stress, wherever it may have come from. Usually school, or the cognition that Voldemort won’t be scared to lift his wand against you and your friends the next chance he gets, whenever that might be. Not very soon, you hoped.

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

„They’ve got to be kidding! There’s no bloody way I can go on those patrols with this assholes every damn night.“

You were furious. Taking away your alone time was one thing, but pairing you with none other than Theodore Nott, the biggest dickhead to ever walk the corridors of Hogwarts, that just had to be a sick joke.

You hated his guts. You hated his manwhore-behavior and his obnoxious superior complex. He thinks he’s too good to attend any of his classes and simply uses his prefect-advantages to take points from Gryffindor students for fun. You doubted he knew what playing fair even meant.

Every damn house party, he somehow felt the need to judge either you outfit, you hair, your makeup or just anything else he can find to complain about. And as if that wasn’t enough, he loved taking advantage of your resentment towards hookup culture, never failing to somehow end up right next to you while one of the many girls who seem to be kissing the ground he walks on was hanging on his lips as if he’d remember her name tomorrow.

And don’t get started on quidditch. the amount of times you leave the pitch with at least a dozen new bruises just because of him almost makes it seem like having pushed him off his broom that one time wasn’t enough yet.

In comparison to you and Theo, Harry and Draco were just two puppies occasionally fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed animal first.

“Look- maybe it won’t be that bad, maybe you’ll even, I don’t know, start getting along?” Hermione tried to cheer you up, already knowing that “possibility” isn’t that probable.

“Oh come on Mione, Nott just has to look at Y/N and she basically explodes with anger. We have to be careful she doesn’t accidentally kill him one night.”

“Shut it, Weasley, this isn’t helping. I have to go and talk to professor McGonagall. Mione, come with me?” you asked.

“I’d love to, but curfew is about to start. I don’t wa-“

curfew only meant one thing: the nightly patrol

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

He was different than you thought. He wasn’t that bad. Not when you two were alone. A few months had gone by and, even though the first nights were a bit rough, you both managed to get along well. Really well, actually.

It became a wordless understanding that in the depths of the night, in the comfort of the quietness, when the only source of light in the castle were your wands and the lumos spell, you two weren’t hateful classmates. You were friends. Good friends even.

“I’m so tired, and why is this damn school still freezing cold at night? Bloody hell it’s june” you yawned. It was almost midnight and you and Theo had decided to sit down on one of the stairs. It’s been a long day and night, the younger students seemingly wanting to be outside during the warm summer nights. Understandibly so, you thought.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

He handed it over to you after pulling it off of his body, accidentally showing a tiny bit of his toned stomach. You couldn’t help but look, slightly biting your lip to hide your smile.

You happily accepted the offer and slowly pulled the jumper over your head, your stomach suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy when you smelt his cologne. You breathed in and mumbled a small “thanks” to be boy next to you.

It wasn’t the first time he had given you his jumper. And it also wasn’t the first time you’ve felt this fuzziness in your stomach because of him, and you knew what it meant.

And he felt it too.

Theo never liked you either. He hated your goody two-shoes behavior in front of the professors and the way you would scrunch your nose in disgust whenever you saw him smoking. Sometimes he lit his cigarettes near you just to annoy you.

It all started when in fourth year, you accidentally kicked him off his broom during a friendly quidditch match. He didn’t get seriously hurt, he just felt humiliated. Even worse, by you, a girl he had been convinced to dislike ever since you befriended Theo’s best friend’s sworn enemy, Harry.

You wanted to say sorry the next morning during breakfast, but he strutted away right after seeing you on your way over to him. He was mad at you for embarrassing him, and you found his behavior childish. You both would’ve sworn that this hatred was going to be endless. Until now.

And that scared him.

He couldn’t possibly fall for the girl he had despised all these years. It wouldn’t work anyway. Their houses, their families and their friends just wouldn’t allow it. And their egos wouldn’t either.

Who was Y/N to fall for someone who treated other girls so poorly? Someone who dared to call her best friend worthless and walk around in school he as if he was just better than her and her friends.

But in intimate moments like these, with your head gently placed on his shoulder and his warm jumper wrapped around your body, you both forgot. You forgot about you’re prejudices, about your friends and your families. It was just you two.

Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same way. You doubted it.

As soon as the sun rises, the birds start singing and the castle starts awaking from its tranquil sleep, the peace between you two stopped. His smoking annoyed you. At parties he’d still sneak around with girls. After quidditch matches you’d be still fuming with anger.

Therefore you wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe in moments like these. Perfectly at peace.

Even though the feeling in your stomach when he looked at you or when you smelt his cologne was the same as always, tonight felt different. The usual comforting silence felt awkward and tense, like something that was yet to be said already made things harder.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Theo sighed.

“My friends would kill both of us if they saw us like this.”

“So what? I don’t care about you friends.” You scoffed. “I mean, they can’t know.” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Know what?” you asked as you slowly lifted your head from his shoulder and your eyes locked together. His gaze drifted from your eyes to your delicate lips and the air surrounding you was suddenly filled with a heavy tension and desire.

Your breath hitched and your whole body felt like it was on fire as he carefully started to caress your cheek. He leaned in and finally, his lips touched yours. The feeling of your soft lips on his slightly chapped ones was intoxicatin. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and in that exact moment, nothing else mattered.

All doubts you had suddenly left your mind, the only things you could think about being the feeling of his lips on yours, and the fact that you never want this to stop.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the kiss deepened and it went on like this until you both pulled away to catch your breaths.

And ater that kiss, everything changed.

For the worse

His gaze landed on your eyes once again. And as your expression softened, his became harder. And darker. And the eyes you found yourself lost in just seconds ago suddenly turned cold.

“Did I do so-“

“Give me my jumper. I want to go to bed.”

“What?” You huffed. He can’t be serious right now, right?

“Give it to me, Y/L/N. Our job here is done and I’m tired.”

You scoffed and quickly pulled the emerald green piece of clothing over your head, breathing in his scent for the last time that night. He snatched it out of your hands and left without another word, leaving you alone on the huge staircase, confused and upset.

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

The next morning was even weirder. Your friends had to basically drag you out of bed and once you were seated in your usual seat in the great hall, you just couldn’t stop trying to catch his eyes.

But he seemed rather…. busy. Either you were imagining things or Pansy Parkinson was currently seated on his lap. At breakfast. You frowned and slowly picked at your food with your fork, never taking a single bite.

“Y/N, I think that’s your owl!” Hermione said, the daily prophet in one hand, a teaspoon in the other to stirr her tea. Once the letter dropped onto your lap, you swiftly opened it before quickly patting the owl on its head as a goodbye.

“It’s from professor McGonagall”

“What does it say?” Harry asked, seemingly interested.

You squinted your eyes and Hermione immediately went to look over your shoulder, reading it too as you turned the letter to show her.

“It says that she took notice of my complaints about the pairing and that changes will follow quickly. But I never went to complain about it. And we also never talked about it in class.” You scoffed. The letter was clearly directed at you, and professor McGonagall wasn’t exactly known for making mistakes like sending letters to the wrong person.

Meaning, someone else must’ve told her.

“At least you don’t have to spend any more time with that snob.” Ron chimed in, chewing on his breakfast. You just nodded.

You stopped listening to the conversation as Hermione started to complain about Ron’s table manners and you let your mind wander back to Theo. It must’ve been him who somehow told McGonagall about your complaints. It wasn’t that hard to believe him, considering the professors already knew about the hateful relationship you and Theo had going on.

“I’m gonna go tell Alex, maybe I’ll get paired with her.” You said, getting up from your seat. The trio hummend and waved at you, already being used this.

It wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, if Theo wanted to be a bitch then you definitely wanted to be paired with Alex instead of anyone else. But she also was the only one who knew about you and Theo, and you definitely needed to update her on what’s going on currently. You didn’t dare to tell the Gryffindors, afraid of how they might react. Maybe cutting off contact with you wasn’t so stupid of him. But it was so vicious.

Alex and you have already been friends before you even received your Hogwarts letters. You confided in her with everything, hence she also knew what had been going on between you and Theo these past few months.

She waved you over when she saw you walking towards the Hufflepuff table, letter still in hand. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to sit down. You exchanged quick hellos, and then you began talking, sharing every so tiny detail about last night. And the letter. And the still ongoing situation he had with Pansy Parkinson on his lap, giggling about something he said. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And he didn’t spare you a single look.

“That fucking twat! He can’t just kiss you and then pull shit like this! You should beet him up, honestly. Even better, kick him off his broom again.” Alex suggested, maybe a bit too loudly, as you were on you way towards potions. Breakfast had already ended and because you didn’t want to keep sitting where everybody could hear you, you decided to leave a bit earlier and take the longer way to the classroom.

“Yeah- I don’t know Lex, this is so weird. I used to hate him all this time and now- now I’m crying after him? This is so stupid”, you murmured, “maybe it’s better this way. Everything will go back to the way it was before and I’ll just- forget.”

But it didn’t go back to how it was before. He didn’t go back to calling you names. And whenever he saw you in hogsmead, he didn’t wait for you to cross paths to light his cigarette anymore like he usually did to annoy you. He just ignored you. And that frustrated you even more. Why couldn’t he just act normal? Why did he have to suddenly act as if you died? As if you just didn’t exist anymore? Why did he have to constantly remind you that something between you did change? How were you supposed to forget it about it like this?

Even in classes, when you dropped something, when you gave the wrong answer or when your potions turned into nothing more than a weird bubbling brown liquid and Snape scolded you for it, even when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone, he wouldn’t comment it. Draco would mock you. And Mattheo would laugh. Occasionally, if he saw you on your way out, Blaize would annoyingly remind you of whatever had happened in class. But Theo? He wouldn’t look. He wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t care.

But, to your luck, every last Saturday of the month, the students threw a party with all students from every house invited. Only if they were of age. The houses always took turns on whose common room the party will be held in, and July was Slytherin’s turn. Meaning Theo would definitely be there.

Originally, you didn’t want to act so petty. But you felt used after all these months of him pretending. So, there was only one thing you had to keep in mind for a few more weeks;

revenge is a dish best served cold.

And you managed. By now, you had already told Hermione about Theo and even though she didn’t like the thought of you and him at first, considering you spent lots of time together, it made sense. After all, she said it herself when you first got the message of having to go patrolling with him. Maybe you’d start getting along.

So, for the next party, Alex, Mione, and you came up with a tiny, harmless plan. You didn’t know if it would work because his ignorance towards you was still going strong, but it was worth a shot. And a little jealousy never hurt anyone anyway, right?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

You dressed up. You needed to break his façade one way or another. A tight-fitting, almost-too-short red dress and your favorite jewellery delicately hanging around your neck and wrists with a few rings around your fingers.

You weren’t overdressed, but you didn’t usually go to parties like this. You just went there to have fun with your friends, get drunk and take your mind off of things, never to catch anybody’s attention. You were beautiful dressed up or not, boys always tried to ask you out at those parties no matter what you were wearing, but you always nicely rejected.

Today, you wouldn’t.

After you finished off you makeup with mascara and lipgloss, you put on your heels and finally made your way over to the dungeons, Hermione and Alex right next to you. The boys went first, you assumed they’ve already had some drinks, so hopefully the vibe wouldn’t be too bad.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not.”

“He probably won’t even look at me, just like he did the whole past month” you sighed, suddenly not feeling as confident anymore.

“If you won’t catch his attention, then surely someone else’s.” Hermione tried to cheer you up once again. “And it’ll at least help you take your mind off of him.” Alex added.

They are right, you told yourself. Just go inside, drink something to calm your nerves, and don’t focus on him.

Easier said than done. The moment you stepped a foot inside the common room, decorated with green lamps and lights, dark leather sofas and with loud music beaming through your ears, your eyes immediately searched for him. He was sitting there, hidden in a dark corner with a ravenclaw girl all over him, but his eyes focused on you.

You locked eyes.

Your breath hitched.

Goosebumps formed all over your body.

You looked away.

Your eyes settled on Harry who was calling you over, a drink for you in his hand. You took it from him, ready to just enjoy yourself and have a good time. For now.

You were more than just tipsy, stumbling over your words and your own feet. Your feet started to hurt in your heels and the guy you’ve been flirting with started to annoy you. His hand was steady on your hip and his lips grazed your neck as he whispered things into your ear you couldn’t comprehend, mind way too hazed.

Meanwhile, Theo felt as though he was going fucking crazy. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried so hard not to think about you. He tried so hard to finally get you off his mind. To finally make these feelings for you disappear.

He was supposed to enjoy himself tonight. Make out with yet another girl and then forget about you completely. Some alcohol would help, wouldn’t it? But no, you just had to show up in that tiny fucking dress, showing off your legs for everyone to see. And as if that wasn’t enough, you let that guy’s hands and lips wander over your body as if you belonged to him. You’ve never done anything like this before. You never dressed up like this, and every bloke who ever came too close to you would be hushed away in a second and now you basically bathed in those boys’ attention.

He knew he wasn’t one to judge. Not when he acted the same exact way every single party he went to. But the way you wouldn’t react to his smoke, the fact your nose didn’t scrunch up like it usually would, the way all of your attention was on that guy and not on him, it made him fucking feral.

“Uhhhm you know, you- you look good and all, and we should reaaaaallyyyy continue this another time, but I need some fresh- fresh air right now, so I’ll go.” You hickupped, actually feeling like his weird perfume would suffocate you if you didn’t leave right fucking now.

“I’ll go with y-“

“Nono, don’t worry, I’ll- I’ll go alone.”

You hurried away, not wanting him to follow you. You needed to get out of this huge castle, go somewhere you could actually relax, because the alcohol, in fact, did not help and finally come to terms with the truth; Theo never once left your mind. And your plan sucked too, having achieved absolutely nothing.

You felt way too hot, the smell of that horrible perfume mixed with smoke and alcohol overstimulating your senses. Plus, your mind was racing. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? Tell you what he was thinking that night, tell you what made him lie to your professors about “your complaints”, tell you what fucking made him run away after such an intimate moment.

“Fuckfuckfuck these shoes are fucking killing me!” you whined once you reached the exit.

“Then take ‘em off”

Your eyes opened wide and the cold rain drops falling onto your skin one after one made you shiver.

And so did his voice.

You knew he was standing behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. You stared ahead into the nothingness until you felt his presence next to you, arms brushing against each other. His cologne and the fresh air cleared your mind, sobering you up slightly.

“What do you want, Nott?”

“We need to talk.”

“Finally grew a pair or what took you so long?”

Theo exhaled. He turned around to stand face-to-face with you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. And finally that night, you held his gaze. The tension was palpable and you couldn’t help but fiddle with your bracelets and necklace, feeling overwhelmed with the sudden change of atmosphere.

“Listen, I- I know what I did was stupid. And absolutely, in no way, was what I did okay. I just- I’ve kissed a lot of girls before, we both know that, but that kiss between us- it felt so different and t-“

“So you left? And ignored me? And lied to McGonagall? And proceeded to let a girl sit on your lap during fucking breakfast the next fucking morning? That’s a low bow even for you, Nott. Stop behaving like a slut and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“Oh and how did you behave tonight? You’re allowed and I’m not?” His voice was low, his head bending teasingly low towards yours, eyebrows raised, awaiting your reaction.

You scoffed and dodged his gaze. Guess your plan did work out. “Complaining, Nott? One bloke I flirt with and suddenly you’re after me again? Well maybe next time you should think before leaving me! Because, believe it or not, to one of us that kiss actually fucking meant somethi-“

“You seriously think it meant nothing to me?” He yelled, frustration growing in his eyes. “I left because I was scared of what our friends would think if they saw us together! I- I know it was stupid and I got unnecessarily rude after but I’ve never felt anything like that before and that,” he huffed, “I guess that scared me.”

“So when it’s me you care about others opinions, but when it’s that Ravenclaw, or Parkinson, or just any other girl, then you don’t?” You asked, acting as confident in front him as you could.

“For fucks sake, it’s because I like you Y/N, don’t you get it? I genuinely like you! I left ‘cause you’re not like those girls. ‘Cause you’re actually important to me!”

You pondered for a second, lowering your eyes to look at your heels instead of his face. Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.

You looked up again.

Took a step forward.

And smashed your lips against his.

Your eyes closed as he didn’t waste any more to kiss you back and finally, you felt safe again. With that fuzzy and warm feeling in your stomach and his lips against yours.

“This dress looks so perfect on you.” His hands steadied on your waist, pushing you lightly against the wall. He kissed down your neck, your skin feeling hot. You began playing with his hair as your body relaxed under his touch. You didn’t care about the rain wiping off your makeup. Or about you clothes being absolutely drenched. Nothing mattered other than having him close to you.

“I like you too, Theo.”

His lips parted from your neck, instead he gave you a small peck on your lips, before embracing you in a tight hug, smiling into your hair.

And neither of you let go.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

“Red doesn’t go well with green.”

“Nah, I think it does.”

last part makes more sense as gryffindor!reader but whatever, I hope you liked it!

[miabebe]

Camp Seventeen: Prologue

Seventeen as Greek Demigods Series

Pairing - Reader x ot13 (Yes, you read that right, I am insane and you are allowed to scream at me)

Word count - 2.7k

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve mainly got crack cause all of them are idiots, and obviously smut because they are thirteen lonely, horny men afterall (aka reverse harem) also throwing in some fluff and angst as well because I gotta let emotions run high for plot sake :)

A/n - Hello hello, this is a new seventeen series I am starting and boy oh boy is it gonna be a wild ride! A special thanks to @okiedokrie @whipped-for-kpop-fics @ourdawnishotterthanourday @multi-kpop-fanfics for all their amazing help and bearing with me through the discussions for this, I’m so grateful to you guys :)

I will have a taglist for this so please comment/ send an ask to be added!

“Over here!”

Wincing, you looked up from the disgusting heap of mud your foot had neatly landed in, ignoring the way your little piglet was ecstatically rolling in the same filth.

The man before you looked equally disturbed as he walked over, pulling out a bottle of water apparently from up his ass because you didn’t remember him holding it a second ago.

Sighing a thank you, you took it, emptying it onto your boots before grabbing your gremlin of a pet from its happy place, resulting in a series of loud, incessant whining.

In all that noise, you heard your shoe savior take your name with a voice that was as pretty as him.

“I’m Jisoo.” He put out his hand. “You can call me Joshua.”

You nodded, unable to shake his hand thanks to the problem trashing in your arms earning Joshua’s amusement.

“And who is this?”

“Natalie.” You muttered as he raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Natalie Porkman.”

Joshua burst out laughing, looking away as he covered up a snort, shoulders shaking. You smiled, truly taking in his beautiful features for the first time. Cute.

“This way.” He pointed at absolutely nothing yet you followed this complete stranger, survival skills be damned. “We’ve got a half mile trek ahead of us but it gets a little confusing from here so I thought I’d come pick you up.”

Cute and kind.

You filed it away under ‘to-learn-more-about-when-I-fiigure-out-what-the-fuck-is-going-on-in-my-life.’

The two of you walked side by side, footfall softly echoing in the lush green forest around. Though silence was all you had been craving after the last few days you’ve had, that did not seem like an option since one, Natalie hadn’t stopped whimpering in fifteen minutes and two, Joshua kept glancing at you like you were some sort of ancient artifact.

Not the good kinds.

“What is it?” You said finally, starting a conversation you didn’t want to have. “Never seen a mess of a human before?”

“Never such an old one.” Well, at least you got ancient right. Joshua quickly corrected himself. “I mean I’ve never heard of a demigod surviving undetected in the mortal world for this long.”

Oh but you got ‘human’ wrong. You forgot. Normalcy was never your defining factor but at least now you knew exactly what kind of freak you were.

Almost.

“I wouldn’t call it surviving, more like ‘barely made it’.”

“But you made it.”

“At the cost of what?” You sighed. “Everything is much more complicated now.”

“Don’t worry.” He stopped at a large boulder at the base of an abnormally large tree in the middle of seemingly nowhere. “We’ll all help you.”

“All?”

He nodded, looking at you over his shoulder. “All.”

Your eyes followed his hand as he placed it in the middle of the rock, and after all that you’ve learnt in the last few days, you’re not sure why you were so shocked when it rolled away at his touch. You expected it to lead you to a dark, suspicious cave but a bright light poured out, making you momentarily lose both your vision and your pet who jumped out of your arms and ran into the illuminance, squealing in delight.

“Welcome to Camp Seventeen.”

Joshua grinned, pointing at the scene before him and your jaw dropped in awe.

It was a large opening in the middle of a forest that looked very different from the one you were just trudging through. There were hills on one side, a large lake shimmering far away, fire torches lit everywhere, little cottages scattered here and there, strange symbols topping them all off. Looking at everything curiously, you walked down the cobbled path, only just noticing the two men who were standing at the end of it, both incredibly beautiful. The blonde one was playing with Natalie and the redhead was staring at you with his arms crossed, expression smug.

“Would you look at that, the prodigal babygirl is here at last.”

You frowned, taking an almost immediate dislike despite his pretty, pretty face.

“Jeonghan, play nice.” Joshua muttered, walking over to him.

“Don't patronise me Aphrodite's son, she was supposed to be here at 4-”

“It’s 4:10.”

“-yesterday.” He turned back to you. “You’re a day and 10 minutes late.”

“Well you’re not the one who’s relocating your whole life.” You spat back at him. “I had things to take care of - my dorms, my bills-”

“So much that you missed the meeting with your lawyer.”

“I did ask to reschedule. It’s not my fault he’s an unsympathetic prick.”

“Careful sweetheart.” Jeonghan cocked his head at you. “I’m unforgiving too.”

You stared at him for a whole maddening minute, realizing why his voice seemed so familiar. You had heard him on the phone over the last few days.

“You’re my lawyer.”

“And the best in the city.” Joshua interjected, sensing the rising tension. “Children of Athena tend to be big brained.”

“And hot headed apparently.”

“Natalie says ‘not more than you’.”

All three of you turned to the only other presence there, the man who was carrying your pig, silent as a statue all this while.

“Jun, son of demeter.” Joshua introduced, pulling him ahead. “He’s a natural with anything, well... natural? Mostly plants but he also happens to talk to animals.”

“Domestic ones.” Jun mumbled. “Hansol is better with the wild.”

You greeted him awkwardly, half smiling to be polite and half frowning at the way Natalie was looking up at him with literal heart eyes.

“How did you come across a fledgling?”

“A what now?”

Jun picked your pig up by the arms like a little baby. “She says she’s 10 years old, yet is the size of a toddler. Have you never wondered why your pig never grew?”

“I uh….assumed it was just the kind of breed that didn’t?”

“What an intellectual.” Jeonghan looked at you with faux amazement making you roll your eyes.

Jun, however, still hadn’t met your eye. “Fledglings are creatures of Olympus. Time moves differently there so they don’t really grow like the others in the human world. In that sense, technically, she’s still only a few months old-”

“So you’re telling me this thing, which has lived with me for 10 odd years, is….magical?”

Jun shook his head as Joshua spoke up, clarifying.

“Not magical, that’s a whole different branch of powers and abilities. Your pig is just….not a part of the human world.”

“You betrayer.” You narrowed your eyes at what you thought was your loyal companion. “We were friends. How could I not know?”

Natalie whined sadly in response earning a smile from Jun and of course, yet another snarky comment from Jeonghan. “I don’t speak pig and even I know she said you’re not very bright.”

“Understanding your native language is not particularly intelligent, you swine.” You glared at him, receiving a smirk in response.

“Ten minutes in camp and you’ve already made Jun’s ears red and picked a fight with Han.” You turned to see three men walk up to you, the one in the middle with an amused look and a powerful aura. “You’re gonna fit in quite well Newbie.”

“Seungcheol, son of Zeus and leader of the camp.” Joshua whispered as everyone bowed to him. You imitated them quickly.

“This is Seokmin, Son of Poseidon and Minghao, Son of Ares.” Seungcheol added, pulling out his armor as one of them shot you a cheery smile and the other continued to look at you cynically. “They are our training specialists. Seokmin should help you with your overall fitness and Minghao will train you for combat.”

“C-combat?” You stuttered looking around. “You mean like war?”

“The world of demigods is new to you, don’t try to understand everything in one day.” The Son of Ares sheathed his twin blades behind his back. “Take a few days to adjust to the camp first. You can start training next week.”

You nodded, a little thankful that despite his cold exterior, he seemed to be surprisingly sympathetic of your situation.

“He’s right.” Seokmin chimed. “You should settle here first, not to forget, deal with that lawsuit before you focus on everything else.”

You turned to Jeonghan expecting yet another snarky remark but he looked worried, lost in thought.

When you turned back to Seokmin though, you bit back a scream, your face inches away from a man who appeared soundlessly and seemingly from thin air.

He gave you a cheeky grin with a tilt of the head, “I’m Chan aka Dino, Son of Hermes, Camp cutie, camp hottie and camp leader- ow!”

He rubbed the back of his head vigorously when a small rock hit him with a dull thud. You looked over his shoulder to see Seungcheol aim another one with just a flick of the wrist.

This one Dino skillfully dodged, stepping away from you as Joshua laughed, “Chan is the camp messenger. He’s in charge of all sorts of delivery and transportation.”

“You were the one who picked up my things.” The realisation hit you at last as Dino nodded, pointing at a pile of your stacked bags and trunks beside the entrance.

“Guilty as charged.”

“You were supposed to arrive over an hour ago.” Seokmin narrowed his eyes at the younger man.

“I got held up with some uh distractions.” Chan laughed nervously, scratching the back of his ear. “I didn’t know where to keep her things though, considering you know, she doesn’t have a place yet.”

Seungcheol turned to you to clear your confusion. “Everyone on camp has their own residence but you came on too short a notice so we’re yet to build one of you. We could have housed you in the guest cabin except it was recently damaged in a fight,” He glared at all the boys around him. “So that would not be feasible. Until your own place is not ready you can stay at mine - it is the biggest so you should be comfortable.”

You pursed your lips unsure about his offer. Did you think you would be unsafe in his presence? No absolutely not, the opposite in fact.

You wondered how long you could hold yourself back before unsuspectingly jumping this man and his huge biceps and beefy thighs and manly voice-

“She’s thirsty.”

Taken aback you looked around, searching for the owner of the voice who unnecessarily accurately voiced your thoughts. Instead, you heard the snap of a twig and a low growling sound from the area the forest got more dense. You narrowed your eyes, trying to peer through the overgrown wilderness only to meet a pair of menacing red orbs.

Your adrenaline response barely had the time to kick in before ten, no fifteen, wild hounds ran out of their hiding place towards you, making you scream and hide behind Joshua.

The boys laughed as the dogs circled around you and you gripped onto Joshua’s shoulders terrified.

“Stand back lads.” A silver haired man walked over with a golden haired one beside him, both with a bow and quiver strung over their shoulders. The dogs immediately ran over, aligning themselves in an obedient, straight line behind them.

“Hansol, Son of Artemis and Jihoon, Son of Apollo.” Joshua looked at you over his shoulder. “They are in charge of daytime border patrol. There are all sorts of wild animals out here, hence the hounds, for protection.” As you shuddered, Joshua looked around curiously. “The Son of Hades, is in charge of nighttime patrol. He should be somewhere around here…”

Your eyes widened as the water canteen hanging on Jihoon’s belt flew towards you on its own, making you almost claw Joshua’s arm.

“Wonwoo don’t scare her.” Joshua chastised laughing as you literally see a tall, lean man materialize out of thin air, the canteen in his hand and a smirk on his face. “How long have you been here?”

“The whole time.” He mumbled, handing you the water. “Jihoon said you were thirsty.”

“Not for water.” The blonde man whispered in a way only you could hear, looking entertained at how flushed you were. Did he actually read your mind?

Coming out of Joshua’s shadow, you grabbed the canteen before anyone else noticed, thanking Wonwoo with a hard smile. Tilting your head back you drank up, not noticing how all 10 eyes were intently fixed on you and your throat moving with each gulp. They all took a gulp of their own.

As you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, slowly looking around and noticing everyone’s gaze, the ground below began to shake, fazing no one but you.

Jeonghan pulled you out of the way of what seemed like a large mechanical bull charging towards you with an equally large man perched on top of it. A smaller man arrived right behind, riding a….. A leopard???

“You said you would win.” The muscled man slid off the mechanical creature, patting it. “My baby is faster.”

“I said a cheetah would win. My baby is a tiger.”

“It's a leopard.” You corrected, earning everyone's snickers and the not so threatening stare of its owner.

“It’s a big cat with an identity crisis.” Taking your hand in his, placing a soft kiss at the back of it, the muscle man gave you a fanged smile. “I’m Mingyu, Son of Hephaestus.”

The other man raised his hand. “Soonyoung, Son of Dionysis and that-” He turned to yet another one who was running over, looking frazzled.

“Seungkwan, Son of Hera, owner of a peacock that has yet again disappeared.” He bent over, grabbing his waist, panting and out of breath. “I don’t get why she keeps running away.”

“Maybe because you keep calling him a she.” Minghao nonchalantly glanced at his neatly filed nails.

“I can’t-” Seungkwan ran his fingers through his head, annoyed. “It’s confusing okay, who the fuck named him Patricia then?”

Behind you Jeonghan giggled.

“You coagulation of human evil,” Seungkwan threw his shoe, missing the target. “Now she- He won’t respond to any other name!”

The boys roared with laughter as Seungkwan unsuccessfully chased Jeonghan around, hands flailing everywhere.

Seungcheol walked over to you amidst all the mess, shooting you an understanding smile. “Your life has just undergone a major change, I get that it is intimidating but don’t worry. All thirteen of us are here to help you get through this.”

You nodded slowly, looking around at the boys, doing a quick, confirmatory headcount. “So there’s only thirteen of you?”

And why were all of them so gorgeous??

“Yeah, only.” Seungcheol chuckled, “Trust me thirteen is more than enough, I’ve got to run a very tight ship here.”

“I just assumed there would be seventeen people since, you know, Camp Seventeen.”

“The Oracle apparently told Woozi to name us Camp Seventeen.” He shrugged. “Not sure why.”

You hummed, as all of them gradually stopped behaving like toddlers and turned their attention to you.

“Wait,” The realization slowly dawned upon you. Actually, it hit you like a brick. “You’re all men.”

Seungcheol nodded carefully, like he didn’t know where you were going with this.

“Am I….Am I the only girl in the camp?”

Soft mutters went around as Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Yes and I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but unfortunately, it was not a choice.”

“It’s not common for a girl to be assigned to an all boys camp,” Joshua stepped up. “But I believe since Jeonghan and Wonwoo are working on the lawsuit that landed you here, the authorities of Olympus must have thought it is better for you to be here.”

“But it’s not permanent.” Seungcheol added. “You can choose to change camps after Quest Season if you wish-”

“What is Quest season?”

Jeonghan let out a loud sigh. “You’ve been here for what, ten minutes? Don't overwork your brain. The world of demigods is complex, you’ll learn everything with time.”

“He’s right.” Seokmin leaned against the tree near him. “Why don’t we first move your things to Seungcheol’s cabin? We’ll let you get settled, then Joshua can show you around camp, walk you through the rules and assign a duty-”

“Except.” Soonyoung looked at you from bottom to top, like he was assessing you. “What kind of duty?”

“Exactly.” Mingyu threw his arm around his friend, his expression matching. “Daughter of Hestia, Goddess of Hearth and Home, what would you be good for in this camp?”

Minghao hummed, walking up to you, bending to meet your eyelevel. “Well, what can a woman be good for in a camp of thirteen men?”

A/n - next will be a detailed post about each member, their background and powers so it's less confusing for those who aren't so familiar with Greek mythology and the series will start after that so stay tuned!