#I hate that he’s doing my boy miles like that

[warping-realities]

All For The Family - Part I

That was the only part of his job that Brian dislike, even though it was necessary. To justify what he had to do, he told himself those folks deserved it, that they should’ve been more careful with their own bills and the loans they took out, and paid their mortgage right. It wasn’t his fault. He was just there to deliver the truth they were probably expecting anyway. He tried to adopt a “don’t shoot the messenger” attitude while also showing he felt for their situation, even though he still had to do his job. That rarely worked in the two years he’d been doing that gig, and this time was no different. The blonde 24 years old man, rockin' a sharp suit that fit him like a glove on his skinny frame paired with his glasses, he was supposed to look classy and confident. Which clearly didn’t have the intended effect on the crowd he was facing. Standing in front of him with his arms crossed and a look on his face like he just sucked on a lemon was the biggest man Brian had ever seen in his life.

“You gotta understand, Mr. Abernathy, that the promissory note’s overdue again. If you don’t cough up the cash, the bank won’t have any choice but to foreclose and take your land to auction.”

“I get it, kid, but it seems like you’re the one refusing to understand. Tomorrow, I’m getting another hand to help with the harvest, and we’ll pay up all the back dues and even get ahead on a few!”

“Mr. Abernathy… Roy, can I call you Roy?” Brian asked with a smile he hoped was friendly and not showing the frustration he felt at that moment.

“My friends call me Roy, kid; you ain’t my friend.”

Brian let out a sigh at that response and decided to drop the pleasantries, taking a more hard-nosed approach.

“Well, Mr. Abernathy, I hate to break it to you, but if that promise of yours doesn’t pan out, I’m afraid that come the first of next month, you and your family are gonna have to vacate this property.”

“Save your worries for yourself, kid, while you hightail it off my land, ‘cause for now, I’m the one who decides who comes and goes around here.”

“If you weren’t planning on negotiating at all, why’d you make me drive all the way out here?”

“‘Cause there are some things that need to be said and done face-to-face, son.”

“Well, next time, just call me if you got something important to say!”

With a huff, Brian turned his back on the older, muscular man and headed toward the sports car parked behind the big barn that flanked the simple but well-kept farmhouse.

As he watched the kid walk away, unaware of the wave of golden sparks emanating from him, Roy murmured to himself, “Next time we talk, you’ll take whatever I say as important, boy!” He said, flashing a wide grin before turning to a figure that was approaching. “Is it done?” he asked, his smile widening at the answer.

That spat with the Abernathy family patriarch left Brian pissed off. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought that it might be through his work that those folks would lose everything. At the same time, he knew that if it were his older brother knocking on that door, dressed in his cop uniform, the treatment would’ve been a whole lot different. Of course, he could never pull off Lucas's job. Lost in those gloomy thoughts, he took a while to realize that the gas tank he filled up that very morning was nearly empty, and it was only when a beeping alert rang out that he noticed.

“Damn, how is this possible?” he exclaimed to the empty car as he pulled over to the side of the road and weighed his options. Looking at his cell, he found he was out of signal. The nearest town was miles away. The only option left...

“Damn!” he yelled again, getting out of the car and shrugging off his suit jacket, heading toward the Abernathy’s place, wondering what kind of reception he was gonna get. No matter how much empathy he might have started to feel for those folks, it surely wouldn’t be mutual. Halfway to the farm, the already bad situation took a turn for the worse when rain started pouring down, soaking Brian's expensive clothes.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he was being punished by some higher power for doing that job, and he was sure of it when he ran smack into the person he needed but didn’t want to see: Roy Abernathy in all his bulk! He was standing in front of an old Ford pickup, arms crossed again, but this time with a grin that Brian would’ve usually taken for some petty celebration, but at that moment it seemed to him to have more sincerity than he was used to seeing from “clients.” The man was with someone who could only be his son, given the huge resemblance between the two. Those behemoths made for a frightening sight for Brian, leaving him speechless. However, he didn’t even get a chance to speak, as Roy started the conversation for him.

“Looks like you need a little help, son. Where’s your fancy car?”

“I… the gas…”

“Oh, I get it; it’s real reckless to be out here with an empty tank.” The man said, still grinning, and Brian initially felt like he was just saying that to mess with him. But quickly, a small voice in the back of his mind disagreed; the Abernathys weren’t stingy like that. That new, dissenting voice made him hold his tongue and respond more calmly than expected.

“I don’t know what happened; I left town with a full tank. And… I… um… I’ll need some help, yeah.”

“Sorry, son, what was that?”

“I said I need help, if you could… please?!” He replied louder, though he was pretty sure the man heard him.

“Of course I can help, son. Out here, we all pitch in, no matter who you are.” Another jab, and once again something made Brian hold back; he deserved that treatment, the little voice said, and he would take it like a man, like the man he was. Roy smiled again, apparently noticing that the young man was holding back from snapping back.

“Thanks, sir. Now, if you could just follow me to the car and get me some gas…”

“No, son, you’re soaked through. Let RJ and me take care of that; you go to my house and talk to my wife; she’ll get you some dry clothes and a hot meal.”

“I’d rather go to my car…”

“No arguments, kid; do what I said!” Roy replied, his face turning serious.

“I… I… fine!” Brian said, biting back his anger and trudging down the road.

“That one’s a bit rough around the edges.” RJ commented to his dad as he watched Brian walk away.

“Oh, but he’s starting to behave, and there’s nothing wrong with him being a little rough, son, as long as he uses that attitude in the right way…”

“Dad, are you sure? This mumbo jumbo sounds crazy… and the risk we took, messing with that guy’s car. What if he noticed?”

“What are the odds a guy like that knows how to handle a car, Junior? At least for now.”

“Dad, what you’re talking about doing… it’s impossible…”

“Son, you’re gonna have to trust me on this; believe me, it’s already started. Tomorrow at this time, we’ll have the help we need and one heartless drone less in the world.”

“But how? How can you be sure? Have you done this before?” The young man asked.

“No, Junior, I haven’t.” Roy replied, looking quite uncomfortable and avoiding eye contact with his son. “But since you apparently doubt your old man’s word, maybe you should trust your own eyes; take a quick look now, and you’ll see something unique.”

“What the hell? What is that, Dad?” The boy asked, seeing the golden sparks surrounding the man who walked, seemingly unaware of anything strange.

“That, my boy, is the solution to our problems; now hurry up.”

As father and son climbed into the old pickup, an oblivious Brian, unaware of their plans for him, arrived at the farmhouse door. The moment he raised a hand to knock, the door swung open suddenly, and he found himself facing a beautiful woman with bronzed skin and black hair streaked with gray, whose age he couldn’t quite pin down, though he knew she was Abernathy’s wife. The woman looked at him with a warm face that, for some unknown reason, sent a shiver down his spine.

“Well, well, what do we have here? A lost kitten? How can I help you, sugar?”

“Um… I’m sorry, ma’am. I… Mr. Abernathy told me to come here and… hum… change clothes while he looks at my car.”

“You’re soaked, poor thing! Come on in, come on in. I’ll ask Debra to get you some of RJ’s clothes. Be a good boy and wait right here; I don’t want my carpet all wet!” The woman said in a whirlwind, pulling him inside the house and leaving him standing at the threshold. Brian, for his part, had to control himself not to run back out into the rain, as something urged him to get out of that place as fast as possible. Holding himself back, he waited until the woman returned with a young girl about his age, just as pretty as the mother, in a floral dress.

“Debra will take you to RJ’s room; you can dry off and wear some of his clothes until the boys bring your car back. Meanwhile, I’ll whip up some dinner; a big boy like you must eat as much as my husband and son!”

“I… actually…” Brian started, but he gave up announcing his intention to leave as fast as possible upon receiving a look from Mrs. Abernathy that simultaneously showed expectation and reprimand. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Great, now let’s go, let’s go! You’re soaking my carpet!”

Brian followed Debra up to one of the rooms on the second floor of the house. Upon entering, he was surprised to find it was a double room. Did the Abernathy kids, brother and sister, share the same room?

“I’ve set aside some of RJ’s clothes for you; they might be a bit big, but at least they’re dry.” The girl said, smiling between the two beds in the room. Brian couldn’t help but ask.

“You sleep here with your brother?”

“God, no, eww! That bed’s for my other brother!”

“I didn’t know that… wait… there’s no record of the Abernathys having another kid in the paperwork given to the bank!”

“Shhh… relax; there’s no need to stress about that, it’s not important. You city folks with your data, your records, your… contracts. Life is so much more than that, you know? So why don’t you chill for a bit, dry off, and head down? Dad’s gonna want to talk to you.” The girl replied and left the room, leaving a very confused Brian behind. He was still pondering the family’s strange behavior as he undressed and wondered what the hell Roy Abernathy would want to talk to him about. He wasn’t fooling himself thinking it could be something good for his job, not after the confrontation they had just had.

After drying off and getting ready to put on RJ's much larger clothes, the little intrusive voice invaded his mind again. Whatever Roy had to say was important, and he should listen and obey, just like he always had. Before his mind could fight back against that, a beam of golden sparks emanated from his body, and both the intrusive voice and the need to resist it vanished from Brian's mind. In fact, all thoughts disappeared. He couldn't tell how long he stood there, just breathing, with his mind blank of thoughts or worries.

He only returned to reality when someone caught his attention.

“What are you doing just standing there, brother?” A deep voice asked, startling him awake. Turning quickly, Brian found himself face to face with Abernathy’s son, RJ. He’d only seen him briefly on the road, but now he was just a few inches away. RJ lacked the bulk of his father, but that didn’t mean he was small. On the contrary, he was a strong guy, a year or two older than Brian, with a muscular, hairy chest on display. Looking at that figure, Brian felt a strange sensation wash over him, a kind of bond between him and this stranger; it wasn’t sexual, it was something… brotherly, maybe? He knew he’d felt that before, but couldn’t remember when or with whom. As absurd as it was, it was like this guy in front of him was someone very important.

“Earth to you, bro! Get some clothes on and let’s eat; Dad’s waiting.”

“I… uh… yeah.” Brian replied, hurrying to put on the clothes that were lying next to him.

“You coming?” He asked, wanting to stretch the time spent with the other man, even though he didn’t know why.

“Nah, I already ate; I’m gonna crash here. We’ll talk later and figure out how to fix your car!”

“Car?”

“Dude, you really are in another dimension, eat your food, talk to dad, I’ll be waiting!”

Brian headed downstairs and made his way to the kitchen, not even questioning how he knew which way to go, while trying to pin down that feeling of connection to someone he’d just met. As he reached the kitchen door, he found Roy Abernathy sitting alone at a large dining table piled high with food, looking serious and pensive. Brian instinctively stopped at the door, watching the older man. Strangely, all the animosity he’d felt toward the man had vanished, and revisiting his feelings, even the fear he refused to admit existed was different now; it wasn’t fear of violence, but a hefty dose of respect, with a healthy hint of dread. He didn’t even have time to try to figure out what had changed, as Abernathy spotted him and broke into a smile.

“Come on in and grab a bite, son, don’t just stand there like a deer in headlights!” The man said, and while part of Brian’s mind told him he should be anger by that comment, a now dominant part made him smile shyly and head over to the table.

“Excuse me, sir!” He said politely and respectfully.

“Sure thing, son, make yourself at home; things here are simple but done right.”

“Thanks, sir.” Brian replied, serving himself a bit of everything on the table, ending up with a plate piled high, which seemed to please his host.

“That’s a plate fit for a real man!”

“Sorry, Mr. Abernathy; it all looks so good and…”

“No need to apologize, son; that’s a compliment you’re giving my wife’s cooking. And you can call me Roy. That’s what my friends call me.”

Hearing that sparked something in Brian’s mind, some kind of half-forgotten memory, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall it… if he can’t remember it must not be important, right? So, he opted to eat all that delicious food, smiling, again oblivious to the shower of golden sparks surrounding him. But Roy Abernathy couldn’t help but notice, making his smile grow even wider.

Brian devoured the food like he hadn’t eaten in days, time slipping by without him realizing it. He only stopped eating when his belly stretched the elastic of RJ’s shorts, which was no small feat since the man was much stronger than him. Satisfied, he let out a loud burp.

“Burrrpp… sorry, Mr. Abernathy.”

“Once again, that’s a compliment to my wife’s fine cooking, kid; and I already told you, my friends call me Roy.”

“Thanks, Roy… you… you all didn’t have to do this for me, not after… after…”

“After what, son?” Roy asked, with an apparently innocent look.

“After… after…” after what? What did I do to Abernathy? I can’t remember… something about work… my job. “… my job.” Brian mumbled.

“Kid, just ‘cause you’re gonna work for me doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop treating you like a guest.” Roy replied with a smile, sending a shock through Brian’s mind. That information couldn’t be true… or could it? He tried to remember his job, but nothing came to mind; he had gone to college and studied… what? He couldn’t recall. But he knew his job had given him the means to buy the clothes he liked and the car… yeah, his car! There was something about his car.

“And my car…?”

“Oh, right, tomorrow you and RJ can figure out how to fix it. But I gotta tell you, son, there’s only so much an old car can take!”

“Old…? no, no!”

“Oh, I know young folks prefer the term classic, but still… anyway… if I were you, I’d save up for a good reliable pickup, kid! Now head on up; I’m sure you and RJ will want to talk before bed, but tomorrow the day starts bright and early around here.”

“I… I… Roy… there’s something… something…” Brian started as he stood up and headed for the door, unable to finish. He wanted to say there was something weird, something wrong, but he couldn’t.

“Something you wanna tell me, son?”

“Yeah… Mr. Abernathy… Roy…” He struggled to find the right words to express how he felt. “… thanks again!” That was what he finally said, with a fresh wave of golden sparks surrounding him, and any doubt about what he was doing there vanished.

“Thank me with hard work, son; now go to your room.”

Feeling a bit dazed, Brian climbed the stairs and reached the room he shared with RJ. The other man was lying down, apparently asleep, which left Brian feeling a bit down.

He couldn't say why, but he felt the urge to talk to RJ; somehow, he felt like the other man was a special friend he hadn't spoken to in a long time, though that didn't make any sense. He hardly knew the guy; they had barely exchanged words since they met that day... or was it the day his father hired Brian? And when was that? Brian sat on the bed, trying to sort out his thoughts and calm the strange feeling that had taken over him since his car broke down on the road. And why was he on the road if he had gone to the Abernathys to work? He couldn't get very far with those thoughts, as apparently, his movements had woken RJ, who quickly sat up in bed.

“Hey, brother, why didn’t you let me know you were in the room?”

“I didn’t want to wake you; didn’t wanna bother you…”

“Man, it ain’t no bother! We gotta talk about your car, figure out what we’re gonna do!”

“Your dad thinks I should sell it and save up for a pickup!”

“Bro, no way! Dad’s a great guy, but for him, if something ain’t useful for work, it ain’t worth a damn. He’s forgotten what it’s like being a guy our age. And selling a 1969 Ford Mustang? The king of American muscle cars? Only if you’re crazy! I figured with a car like that, you’d know how to appreciate a classic!”

“I… uh… I just didn’t wanna offend your dad, with him being my boss and all…”

“Dude, just be straight with him, and he’ll get it… and forget about the boss stuff… you’re sleeping in his son’s room; you can bet he sees you as more than just an employee.”

“Thanks…” Brian replied awkwardly.

“Come on, enough of that; you’re gonna work with me, hell, you’re sharing a room with me, brother! No need for all that formal junk.” RJ said, grinning before giving Brian a scrutinizing look and asking, “Bro, do you lift?”

“Uh, no… I’ve never been much for working out…”

“So how you ended up working on a farm??”

“Uh… I… went to college… I think, and… I don’t remember…”

“Chill out, brother, I’m just teasing you!But seriously, if you wanna work around here, you gotta pack on some serious muscle.” RJ said, casually scratching his powerful pecs and biceps, making Brian, who had never cared about that kind of thing, feel mesmerized.

“You think… you think I can get as big as you or your dad?” Why was he asking that???

“Ha, dude, nobody’s as big as my dad, and getting to my size is a good journey, but the beauty of the thing is just that, brother; you never settle for the size you are, and I bet with the right training and all the farm work, soon you won’t even recognize yourself.” Hearing that reply filled Brian with a level of contentment he never thought possible.

But before he could try to understand why, RJ went back to talking about cars, and soon the two were discussing their favorite classic models and what they’d do with Brian’s old Mustang. Their conversation flowed like they’d known each other for years and was only interrupted when a very serious Roy Abernathy opened the bedroom door and told the two to hit the hay already, like a couple of mischievous kids being schooled by their dad. Somehow, that thought was comforting to Brian, who quickly fell asleep after Roy turned off the lights and left the room.

He was in a strange place; it looked like a gym. There was a young, skinny but strong guy, as blonde as he was, staring at him. After a few seconds, he realized he was standing in front of a mirror and smiled.

As he dreamed of that, Brian smiled in his sleep on the bed in Roy Junior’s room, his shirt pulled off during the night without him realizing, and golden sparks surrounding him as he moved around happily, unaware that someone was watching him.

“Sleep tight, little brother, ‘cause tomorrow’s when things are really gonna get interesting!”

[d-1hater]

How Spider-Man Across the Spiderverse got me right now

[dykedvonte]

I hate the stretch lines in the front of Curly's uniform because that means the devs rushed to make a model in like a month or so and thought "They gotta at least know he has huge knockers, gotta know he's got back pain." Cause like what is the thematic importance of his tits having overhang?

What responsibility is that representing? Breast reduction? It shows an inherent greed in his character due to the excess and heshouldletmeholdone and that he clearly is blinded cause if he tries to look down his damn ladder all he's seeing is his own cleavage.

[kaisturni]

hands on me | c. sturniolo

→ chris x fem!reader

→ plot; chris and y/n get into one of their usual screaming matches, but this one ends a little less usual than normal.

→ warnings; smut, fingering, swearing, f!oral (receiving), choking, unprotected sex (STAY SAFE), dirty talk, use of names (baby)

→ hi pretty lovies :) this is my first time writing a smut fanfic so PLSSS let me know if you guys like it, and if there are any requests, don’t hesitate to share! almost nothing is off limits ;) enjoy!

NOT PROOFREAD EEK

——————————————————————————

y/n and chris had been in a screaming match all day.

from sunrise to the middle of the night, it's taken both nick and matt holding the two back so they don't entangle and kill each other.

"whatever," nick breaths, "i'm so fucking done with you guys. i know you don't get along but this is ridiculous."

"yeah" matt agreed, letting out a sigh. "i for one am tired as shit, try not to murder the other while we're asleep," the other two brothers pace back into their respective rooms, slamming the door one after another.

"great!" y/n starts, "who am i supposed to sleep with now, guaranteed they both just locked their doors." she whispered to herself.

"god, who cares? you could sleep on the street for all i fucking care." chris yells, watching y/n stand outside of nick's door, not daring to make an advance inside.

the girl shot daggers at him, "whatever chris, tell that to your fucking brothers, they're the ones who let me live here." y/n huffs out as she shoves chris full force out of the way, preparing for a sleep on the boy's couch. but before she can even reach the end of the hallway, chris grabs y/n by the throat and slams her against the wall.

y/n hits the wall, exuding air on impact, hands gripping onto chris', which has her easily pinned on to the wall.

"did you seriously just put your hands on me?" he said lowly, closing the distance between him and

y/n. the girls heart was racing at a mile a minute, unsure of what her actions would cause next. she was so confident yelling at chris frequently from across the room, but suddenly powerless in his grasp, she was, briefly, at a loss for words.

"yeah," y/n managed to grunt out. she had never been this close to chris before, let alone feel his body inches away from her own skin. his eyes were dark and low, jaw tight and sharp, his features barely illuminated in the light. as much as she hated him, she found him punishingly attractive.

"and what are you going to do about it?" she dared to whisper to him, trying to keep as much confidence in her tone as she could, not letting him see how much she withered under his touch.

from a few heavy breaths, y/n's throat still in his hand, he shoved her into his room and shut the door behind him. he flipped the two around so she was again back against the wall.

"what am i going to do about it?" he taunted, less than an inch between their bodies, breaths mingling and eyes locked in contact.

"you have no idea what i could do to your right now," chris spoke lowly, uninterested in letting his brother's hear the way he is speaking to the girl he supposedly wants to kill.

"if only you just kept that pretty little mouth shut, maybe i could've showed you sooner," his words faded out, his hand around her neck tightened slightly, as he brushed his lips against hers, earning a barely audible moan from the girl under his grip.

"chris" y/n managed to breath out, suddenly feeling a sense of neediness and wanting from him. is it bad she could be so turned on from how rough chris was being with her? she had never seen this side of him before, the side of him that she didn't think existed to her. before this he was ready to take her head off and so was she. but now she could feel the heat rising in her legs, and shocking her stomach, anticipating what was to come next.

"what? don't act like you don't want it, you think i can't tell that you do? look at you." chris taunted, gently using his teeth to tug on her bottom lip. y/n felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

unknowing what came over her, y/n remarked back "oh, i'd want this. just not with you," she could see the anger growing in his face as she continued, "anyone could do whatever you'd do better." she knew what the words she was saying would lead her. she almost hoped chris got the message.

"is that so? i'll show you you're wrong." chris swiftly tossed y/n to the bed, pinning her down, yet again cementing their faces inches away from each other.

"you'll be begging me to do this more often when we're done," beginning to leave sloppy kisses against y/n's neck. "i'd destroy you,"

"so destroy me," y/n dared.

chris smiled against her skin, wet kisses becoming dark hickies all over her neck and jaw. his lips slowly moved down to her covered chest, frustrated with the fabric, he tugged on her shirt, signaling to take it off.

y/n sat up in the bed ripping her shirt over her head, his eyes meeting with her bare chest. "no bra, huh?" he said before claiming her right nipple in his mouth, kissing, sucking, and biting on it, and doing it harder with each moan he earned from her.

"i never wear one" she admitted, eyes screwed shut in the unexpected pleasure that chris sturniolo was bringing to her.

"i hope that's not the only thing you never wear," he said against her skin, kisses continuing down her body until he reached her inner thighs, with only a thin layer of fabric separating her core and his lips.

y/n gasped as he yanked her to the edge of the bed, making her wet shorts visible to him even in the dim light. he smirked looking up at her,

"fucking soaked," he said what she already knew, throwing her head back and screwing her eyes shut in anticipation, "chris, please." she begged, thinking how pathetic it was that the few words she was able to get out gave chris everything he wanted to hear in that moment, but she didn't care. 

"since you're begging for me," he taunted, taking off y/n's barely there sleeping shorts, taking in how perfect her core was dripping under the light, practically calling his name. never would he had anticipating being in this moment, but god he knew he was lying if he said he didn't think about it.

he teased her by trailing small kisses and nibbles against her inner thigh, making her wetter by the second. before y/n knew, he was licking and sucking down her slit, arms pushing her legs further into her chest to get even deeper.

gripping the sheets with white knuckles, y/n found it impossible not to scream his name as he stuck his tongue inside her, moaning against her pussy as the vibrations drove her closer to her high.

"chris i'm gonna cum," she said panting, edging him to keep going, not wanting the pleasure to stop as she found her hands tangled in his hair. but before y/n managed to reach her high, he pulled his face away from between her legs. mouth dripping with all her juices, he brought his lips to hers, kissing her for the first time.

the two kissed each other hungrily, each fighting for dominance over the other, but chris ultimately won as he stuck to fingers inside of her, causing y/n to gasp, prompting chris to shove his tongue into her mouth.

"how am i supposed to hate you when i know your pussy is this good?" chris asked between sloppy wet kisses, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of her, wetness leaking onto his bedsheets.

y/n could feel the knots tying in her stomach, signaling she was close, “c-chris i’m so fucking close,” she said absolutely breathless, weakly gripping his moving wrist.

his two fingers slowed their pace, and she whined at the loss of contact. y/n couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together, in order to do something to stop the aching between her legs.

“not so fast,” chris said, peeling off his hoodie and sweats, leaving him in just black calvin klein underwear. “spread,” he demanded.

y/n obliged without hesitation, aching and ready for him to be inside her. chris used his thumb to rub her clit in circles, causing her to arch her back and moan in pleasure, chris could feel his dick aching to fuck her, but he wasn’t going to let her have it easily.

“c-chris please,” she begged, “please what, baby?-

baby?

-tell me,” he said, knowing exactly what she wanted from him, “please f-fuck me- shit,”

as soon as those words left her mouth, chris removed his underwear, his length springing up, leaking with pre-cum and burning with desire.

he ran the tip on y/n’s slit, groans exiting from both of their mouths. without warning, he slammed his entire length into her, causing her to gasp at the feeling.

tears ran down y/n’s cheek as she moaned out chris’ name and profanities at the pace that he was pounding into her,

“you look so pretty when i fuck you, baby,” he growled in her ear, “look at you, doing so good at taking all of me,” he said before sensually connecting their lips.

y/n had no words to say, only muffled sounds in between kisses coming out of her mouth from being completely fucked out by chris, and it didn’t take long for her to feel her orgasm coming back.

“oh, chris, i’m gonna cu-,”

“wait, you cum when i say, okay?” he said lowly, before quickening his pace, feeling his own climax coming too.

“i can’t take it, please let me cum,” y/n pleaded, feeling completely buzzed from all the sensation going in her body.

“cum baby, i’m right there too,” he breathed out, feeling her walls clench around him causing chris to explode inside her, filling her up at the same time she reached her own high.

chris pumped a few more times in and out of her, both groaning as he pulled his dick out of her, then falling on the bed next to the sexed out girl next to him.

the two looked at each other for a moment, and chris softly kissed her, finding his way to be on top of her again. he pulled their lips apart and ran a hand through her hair,

“why do we do this? i’m tired of hating you, why do you act like that with me?” y/n said, staring at chris’ piercing blue eyes above her. he sighed, “i really don’t know,” he started, “i guess the way i feel about you just made me angry for some reason. it always made me mad how close you are with nick and matt, and i guess i kept it up too long,” he admitted, playing with the ends of her soft hair.

“you should’ve just told me,” y/n retorted, placing a gentle hand on the side of chris’ face, and he nuzzled into it. “i know, and i’m sorry. can we be done with that, please?” he asked her, cautiously.

“of course we can,” y/n smiled. chris smiled back at her, connecting their lips once more.

“okay,” he began grabbing her hand, “let’s go get cleaned up. we can have another fight in the shower,” smiling deviously at her after making the statement.

y/n rolled her eyes at the boy, and quickly followed him into the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

[pjackk]

Yep another miesrable "F my life" moment just hapened to me i basicaly walked 10 miles up the mountain to get to behind to the gas station to see my plug to buy me my with my favorite delta 8 pipe rocks and grab another 6er of tall boy steelies and i forgot i had my lit pre roll from brunch at the Country Grocerys buffet and i tripped on a congom on they away out and fell directly into a puddle of oil which normaly is fine when i fall and hurt myself ebcause nobody gives a fuck about me but the pants got stained wich is not unusual for me either but this time with motor guel or some shit but my pre roll was smoldering still and it set my ptants on fire so i dive in to the muddy ditch to put wet mut on my body to estinguish the fire and it and it shook the fuck up out of my steelos and the bursted all over me and it put out the fire but now i dont have any booze at all and my delta 7 "Fuck n chill" rocks burned tf up and i dont got nothgin left and my pants were all fucked up so i had to go home thru the woods wihtout them and it was so dark out and my peice of shit phone died even thouhg it was at 27% and i couldnt see shit and i was lost for along time so i decide to go to sleep in the woods to find my way back in day time + the animals sounds were high key scary as fuck so i cover myself in leafs and dirt and sticks and mud and other shit to hide from them and i woke up in the adfternoon still tired as fuck cuz i dont sleep good without some shit to put me asleep like my medicidne prescribed from Dr Maltlikker if U catch my drift lol or Dr thc Gummy lol if u get what im saying and these stupid little cunts with 22 rifles were plinking at me and tlaking about how they wanted to shoot my big ugly rusty head right in the head or to shoot a hole in my nippels so i got up and trioed to get them to stop i begged but htey just kept lauhging at me and shooting at me and it realy hurt my feelings so i pick one up and threw it into the sky then they all ran away screaming which is a classic "Dont fuck with honest joe,because he might try to hurt you or kill you if u piss him of moment" but the miracle of the story if that i went to walk 20 feet to findm y way out and i found my busted as shit old as fuck camry with a litle gas left ive been looking for it for a few days cuz i did a lil cruising when i was blackout and did lots of crazy shit i didnt remember at all but it was all on my story and 100 ppl were snaping and whatsapping me telling me to kill myself when i checked my huwawai thats how u know u had a crazy fcking night when u get that shit!!😂😂 but it had a litle gas left and it wasnt super busted so i was able do get back on I81 and soem stupid fcking crazy ass north carolina motha fuckas are driving insanly as fuck as usual and they keep almost hiting me while im just trying to read my fukcking phone to get rid of all these stupid messages and shit i still dont know how to use the app and its hard to type shit with my hands but eventualy i got back to my fuck buddys houe im crashing there even though he hates me now but i have nowehre left since ive been down on my luck and im realy not able to pay the bills no more with my online black jack/DarkRp trial moderator gigs and basicaly he owes me cuaz i got him 1 pack of menthols back when he was 19 and Sleepy Joe Brnadon banned them since "Freedom to do real shit" was aparently removed from the costitution when he was elected😂 but anywas now im sitting here bored as fuck with nothign at all do do cuz i got nothing to get fucked up wthi and i spent the rest of my meony on shit thats burned and blasted im realy worried i wont be able to sleep tongith since i cant get fucked up and thats when the demons starts to flow in my head i might do something realy bad to myself like pluck out my screws or some shit if u care abotu my which u probably dont my cashuapp is $pjack9 im desprate for another bottle to numb my p[ain away

Pic of my ride when i found it thankuly it still had gas😋

[poguehearted77]

After Hours

summary: Rafe lets his jealousy get the best of him and it pisses you off, but he makes it up to you after hours.

"Y/n, he's doing it again" Carly whispers over your shoulder as you work on drying off the bar glasses and putting them back on the shelf. You sigh on the outside but your insides warm at the thought of Rafe staring at the back of your figure. This is how it always goes.

He always wants to see you, claiming he can't get enough while you pull away, dedicated to your job. So Rafe decides why not kill two birds with one stone and come see you at work.

Unfortunately, wherever Rafe goes, his posse follows, and considering they're notorious party animals, they can't seem to hold their liquor. "Hey, Let's get another round goin' over here!" Topper shouts, words slurred and eyes heavy-lidded. Anyone within a mile radius could hear the cheers that came from their table at the announcement, and it made you dread going over there, but it's your job.

Not that you hated where you worked, it was right in the heart of figure eight, not too far from where you lived and it pays well most days, but drunk kooks pay even better.

As you walked over with a tray of shots, their hollers grew louder in volume and the environment made you nervous. Not because of the noise at their table, but because of the silence that Rafe held as you placed everything down.

His quiet, blue gaze lingered over your curves as you smiled at the boys. "Wow, you're just too pretty to be working at this hour. How about you pull up a chair and join us?" Topper's hand gently holds your upper arm and Rafe finally speaks up.

Prompted by a flare of jealousy, "Get your hands off her, Top." Rafe's voice overpowers the table to a still silence that even startled you. Topper immediately moves his hand as Kelce 'Oohs'. "Shit man, my bad." He apologizes. Rafe sends you an apologetic glance that you ignore before hastily collecting your tray and returning to the bar.

But it was too late. You were already upset.

-

The bar had just let out its last customer and you worked on wiping down the tables, most of the lights off and the blinds shut. Some street lights managed to seep through the cracks in the shutters which left golden shadows on the black marble countertops.

It takes a knock on the door to finally pull your head up from the task on hand where you are locking eyes with Rafe on the other side of the glass. You stepped towards the door, not unlocking it.

Your arms crossed and your expression conveyed what he already knew. "Open the door." Voice muffled but you still hear him loud and clear, you huff, knowing he would break the door down if he needed to. You opened it.

"You know I'm not a fucking child, right Rafe?" You sneer, and he locks the door behind him. "I know that. I just hate seeing other guys hit on you. It does things to me- shit makes me just wanna-" his expression contorts, unable to describe the emotion.

"I know, but you gotta trust me. You think I like when that bitch Holly from the yacht club has her hands on you? No, but I trust you." You throw the cloth down on the bar.

Watching as Rafe rounded the island to be on your side, finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. His stone-cold blue eyes run warm as he grins down at you, "I don't give a fuck what Holly does, cuz at the end of the day all I'm thinkin' bout is you."

He leans down, his breath ghosting over your lips. Just barely giving you a taste of what you so desperately need. "I still don't forgive you." You quip, hardly able to step away before his big hand is wrapped around your neck, a light pressure applied, a warning.

"You think I'm lying? I'll show you who the fuck this dick belongs to. How about that, yeah?"

In a blur of heated kisses and hot touches, your clothes were scattered across the floor and your bra had landed somewhere on the rack, forgotten as Rafe fucked you mindless over the counter.

His thick cock pummeling in and out of your soaked cunt. He grabs a fistful of your dark curls, pulling you up so your back can meet his chest. "Now tell me, baby. Who does this pussy belong to, huh?" He hisses through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the tight grip your walls provided him.

"M-me." You moan pathetically and it makes him laugh. He lets you go, and your upper half falls back onto the counter unceremoniously. He pulled out slowly, all the way until only the tip remained buried. "Try again."

He plummets back inside your core, his tip kissing your cervix and you scream, eyes filling with tears as you blabber, begging him not to stop. "Let's try that again, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to."

"You! You-- fuck! It's yours, all yours. No one else's."

He grins, he already knew this, of course. He just liked hearing you say it.

[l0vergirlwrites]

gulity as sin ; eddie munson

synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?

warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!

note: inspired by taylor swift’s song “guilty as sin”

alsooo i just had to get this out of my system because ahhhh!!!

“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.

“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.

while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”

peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”

she laughed “i hope not”

letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”

the big question.

with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.

“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”

narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).

“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.

“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.

“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.

“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“

“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.

with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.

clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”

the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.

“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.

“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.

jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”

“of course we are, babe!”

the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.

“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.

“oh calm your tits harrington—“

“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“

“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.

“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”

you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.

“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.

before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.

“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.

as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.

“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.

“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”

turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.

“robin—“

“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.

you stood there stumped at his reaction.

“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.

“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.

**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*

it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.

you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).

“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.

with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.

you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.

“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”

you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”

“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”

you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”

“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.

“what if—“

she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”

staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.

“maybe you are right, robin”

“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.

**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*

it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.

as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.

shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.

“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.

“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.

“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.

despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.

you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.

“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.

swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.

tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.

thank god for that.

**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*

the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.

& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.

with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.

your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!�� over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.

“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.

you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.

returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.

“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.

“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.

laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.

“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.

the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.

so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.

“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.

“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.

“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.

“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.

*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*

departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.

the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.

& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.

it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.

“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.

with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.

while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.

when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).

& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.

everything was fine! you guys were just friends!

“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.

“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.

“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.

“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.

“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”

oh god, now you were hearing things.

“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.

you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”

for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.

“wanna dance?”

& how on earth could you say no?!?!

you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.

with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.

you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.

once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.

“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.

exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.

“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.

“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”

he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?

but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?

“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.

“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.

“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”

you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.

“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.

eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.

you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?

shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“

“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.

was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.

“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.

“i think so too”

& then there was comfortable silence.

you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?

you wish this part was easier.

“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.

“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.

“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.

it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.

it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.

it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.

“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.

“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.

“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.

with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”

you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.

“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last, praying this wouldn’t be just a one time thing at a party.

“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.

“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”

“i’d love to”

& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.

young love, am i right?

[occamstfs]

What You Really Want

Milo mouths off about a man dating his long time crush before immediately learning the lesson that he should be less trusting of strange voices promising to fulfill his desires

Pretty standard straight to gay himbo/jockification! It will also be my final story for some time I believe, so I do hope you enjoy! -Occam

“It’s no fair that they literally have it all.” Like many a ‘nice guy’ Milo has spent an inordinate amount of time skulking social media and disparaging more physically gifted men as he stumbles across them. The root of his despair is not difficult to ascertain, his eyes burning with envy make quite clear the inner monologue of ‘girls always date assholes.’ He sneers as he comes across the most recent post of his friend and crush, Juliet. The jealous man of course knows next to nothing about the character of James, the jock-type now dating her, but judging by the gleaming smirk and the bulky arms of a killer hanging from his shoulders, the judgemental dweeb has more than enough evidence to speculate.

Delving into his memories, Milo’s face burns with embarrassment as he recalls mentioning his crush to Juliet, ‘Oh!’ her bright eyes shift uncomfortably and her cheeks begin to blush enough to match the pink tint she threw on this morning. Milo’s fist clenches as she almost giggles in her discomfort, ‘sorry Milo I guess- Well, I guess I just thought you were gay?’ After this Milo played it cool, he thinks. Hand scratching the back of his head as he asserts his straight identity and the two go on to have a meal far more quiet and awkward than usual. When new-boyfriend James comes to pick up Juliet, Milo forces a smile before staring daggers at his back as the pair walk away. 

This brings us to the present hate scrolling session in which Milo is more than absorbed. Lips curl into a sneer as he traces the impossible to ignore curves of this must-be dullard’s defined body. Milo scoffs as he sees the litany of women that must make up the man’s dating history. “Bet they won’t even last a week, ha! I mean judging by how much the douche spends in the gym I bet he’s just using her as a beard anyway.”

With this final rather homophobic assertion, the nerd’s phone flashes before going dark, “What the-” before he has to determine whatever caused this, he goes stiff as a strange voice resounds through his head. ‘Tired of all the big boys getting what they want, hmm?’ Immediately concerned he’s lost his mind, Milo gets to powering back on his phone to call for help. ‘Now now, Milo. Do not worry your little head. I am here to help. Would you not like the chance to be just like them?’ Just like them. Envy burns through his veins greater than anything. Sensing this immediately, whatever this voice is seizes upon his clearly fragile psyche, its laughter steely and alien, ‘Ah ha ha. I thought so.’

Dropping his phone once more, Milo tries to drill the voice, “Wh- what are you exactly. Are you a dem- hm, an angel?” The voice answers almost before he even finishes the thought, ‘It matters not what I am. All that matters are your desires. Now. Do you wish to be all you desire, all this James embodies? All that he is in your head.” Miles gulps and almost starts drooling at the idea, just like James. Women at his fingertips whenever he wants, a body sculpted by the gods while keeping a far better mind than that oaf could ever afford. With next to no hesitation or forethought, Milo nods and the world goes dark.

When he awakens the poorly mannered man finds it’s the next day. His phone rests in his hand and when opened he finds it zoomed in on a picture of James’ meaty bicep. Milo rolls his eyes and tosses his phone aside before going to stand. Making it halfway up he grunts in pain as he only then discovers morning wood more pressing and turgid than he’s ever encountered. Falling back down he clutches at the pain in his crotch from his cock being forcibly yanked by his underwear. Hands now grasping it he gasps as he finds it filling them far more than it has any right to. 

Well now, while they’re already down there he might as well have some fun right? After briefly struggling to get his waistband over his swollen package his mouth falls open in shock as he’s finally able to appraise the almost unrecognizable cock hanging from his crotch. It’s like none he’s seen before, not that he generally observes dicks of course. Far more impressive than he imagined a dick could be. His fingertips can scarcely meet his palm when he tries to grasp it, and as he begins rubbing it it feels leagues more sensitive than it has before now, as if nerve endings are multiplying. Looking to his awaiting phone he sees the photo of James and what’s her name as he begins masturbating outright.

Seeing a bulge in James’ strained pants he grunts as he returns to stare at his own suddenly substantial cock. More like him. The already thicker rod strains as he reflexively humps into his hand, forcing his grip wider as it expands to simply need more room. The new veins painting the length of his nascent ten inch dick surge higher up its length as he swears he can see them pulse and bulge with each racing heartbeat. Beneath his thrusting hands, bouncing as his hips continue to forcefully thrust with more strength than he has, his balls similarly grow heavier, larger as they send hormones flowing through him enough to metamorphosize and, more immediately, cause pre to stream and coat his fingers. 

Milo leans his head back as he is bursting with a need for release greater than he can understand. He shifts his jaw as it twinges with the pleasure of growth, widening and strengthening into one fit for titan. Below his newly defined chin, his neck thickens and moans grow deeper as an Adam's apple bulges out of his throat. Hearing his voice echo deeper throughout his bedroom, his heady pleasure comes to a head as he is struck with the bizarre urge to lick the pre off his fingers. Before he’s able to acquire or express shock and disgust, his eyes blast open and he is again staring at the image of James, more like- and he blows his load.

The moment of release may as well have shut him down once more, pleasure overloads him like a flashbang as every inch of his body feels at once. Drool drips from his plumper lips as his mind is fried and his hips continue to thrust without any input or awareness, sending stains across his wall and splattering into his darker hair as it begins to pull shorter and tint darker. Eyebrows thicken and cover more of his forehead as his brow hangs lower over his eyes staining brown and growing duller.

His whole form tenses as he finally achieves release, staring at the image of his, uh, competition. Arms flex as his hands crack wider, fingers stretch longer, skin grows rougher. For the first time in his life definition appears on his arms, biceps and triceps compete for which can increase faster, which can catch more eyes, which can rival those alluring arms of James. Beneath shoulders packing on weight are pits that darken with curls now thicker, a deeper brown nearing black as the forest strives to prevent any light from breaking the canopy. Similarly they moisten with the masculine heady musk that they are perfectly designed to disseminate, powerful enough to allure any twink towards his dick, or uh, huh.

Milo moans as this seemingly intrusive thought makes itself at home in his morphing psyche. Barely returning to sentience enough to realize the stray gay thought, he arches his back and stretches as if he were waking up. Mindlessly he wipes the cum staining his larger hands on the new dark treasure trail as it itches and slowly inches up from pubes unshaved. Feeling the hint of an Adonis belt he sits up with a shock, the feeling of something he has long envied bringing back his awareness.

Despite the obvious differences it takes far too long for him to be aware of, to truly notice what has become of him. He struggles to make sense of the effort it takes to move his new larger limbs. He grabs at his new hair and sucks drool through his teeth as he tries to understand how it’s changed texture and color so totally, did he dye it and forget or what? The gears in his mind slowly turn as his fingers move to scratch an itch under his arms, struggling through the dank jungle of curls. Thoughtlessly he brings his sweat-wet fingers to his nose and grimaces. “Fuck man, I smell like an, uh, like a, unnh-” he moans quietly as he’s unable to even finish the sentence, instead an image of James forces its way to the front of his mind and two now-malnourished brain cells spark together and strain to form a thought.

“Oh fuck I’m turning into a imbe-, an uh imbekle? Ugh, an uh- a dumb jock.” Milo bites his lips and flexes an arm to try and assuage his nerves, to get his attention focused on anything but his anxieties. Fortunately to this end, seeing his bulging biceps he feels his larger cock begin to stir. Some semblance of rationality knows ceding to his wanting package is probably what led to this encroaching fog over his mind. His skin begins to prickle as all-around it grows more sensitive. Beyond these skin deep sensations it also seems as if darker hairs are beginning to spread out wherever his follicles will allow.

Seeing hair beginning to prickle his chest and blanket his legs his mind produces images of hairy men he has leered at through the years. His neck twitches as whatever dregs of the pathetic skirtchaser he once was rise up and try to combat his new predilections. He’s straight, he’s always been straight. Right? His mouth goes dry as he tries to remember ever having dated a woman in the past. Barring that, only just able to recall that something is happening to him, only just able to remember that he is transforming into some alien self, Milo tries to produce an image of what he used to look like. And he cannot.

His mouth falls open as it often does whenever he struggles to produce a thought, making it almost his default state. Mouth-breathing mouth ajar he fully experiences the thick air of his bedroom as it fills with his new musk. The room around him begins to dissolve and reform into surroundings that reinforce who he is now, that prove this is who he has always been. Clean pressed laundry dirty and shift into unwashed gym clothes that help cloud the room with his stink. Posters of whatever movies and video games he enjoys corrupt into images celebrating the impressive male form, all distinctly stained from the years of hanging on Milo’s bedroom walls. He hears clanking outside of his bedroom as bookshelves collapse and reform into weights heavier than he would be able to lift.

Milo stumbles to his larger feet and ignores the hefty weight of his balls and cock bobbing in the air as he drags himself out of his bedroom to find a mirror. He leaves sweaty footprints larger than any shoes he owns on the tile of the bathroom as he bumbles in. Leaning over the sink his lips quiver as he sees a razor clogged with hair darker than he feels he should have. Sooner than the doubts arrive they vacate as a thick, stubbled beard rapidly bursts onto his face. Looking up he smirks as he sees a thick mustache surges over his upper lip, looking just like the ones he appreciates,  just like he has always been into. His eye twitches and he grunts as his hair retracts once more into something far more intentional and stylish. At the same time pecs suddenly bulge larger and hang lower as Milo leans heavier over the bathroom sink. 

His eyes glaze over as complex thoughts once more become too elusive in the face of his rising lusts. Muscles bulge larger as his back and legs creak, stretching him taller as thighs and shoulders widen and continue putting on mass. Feet spread like fins on the floor as his hands widen and sweatily slide on the ceramic sink. His mouth continues to water as he inspects all these increasingly masculine changes and his cock continues to throb. Milo bites his lip as new sensations arise from his cock once more, this time the change is apparent as his foreskin regrows, making his cock look even thicker as its head grows hooded and he struggles not to immediately break into masturbation at the powerful image of his own seductive form.

Milo’s barely functioning mind struggles to argue for any reason to not just return to the immeasurable delights of gratifying his all-encompassing urges. He stays his hands for a moment before the greatest horror yet rears its head. A monologue begins in his mind that is not his own, that cannot be his own. Dull laughter echoes through his increasingly vacant mind as a voice even slower and deeper than that which sounds from his new vocal chords, “Yooo broo come onnnnn. Give up, give in. This is what you wanted, ‘s what we wanted huhuhuh.”

He feels a pressure in his balls as they almost churn with the otherworldly need that seemingly always flows through him. He can’t help but imagine the men he’s going to bed with his new endowment, how many cocks he’s going to take in his new powerful ass. Drool trickles from his lips through the dense black stubble that coats his face denser with each second, with each breath. Spit continues down the length of his more defined face before dripping onto weighty, similarly furred pecs. His heavier hands slowly creep towards the hardening cock standing tall and long from the jungle of pubes. Before he’s able to assist his thrusting hips however, his lusty haze is interrupted by his phone chiming. His mind immediately thinks it must be James which fills him with conflicting emotions of rage and giddiness. “Ohh bro maybe he’s inviting us over. It’s been toooo long since we fucked huhuh-”

Milo pointedly tries to ignore his hairier, bulkier reflection as he stumbles out of the bathroom to check his phone. Unfortunately he catches a glimpse which makes it all the more difficult to ignore the throbbing weight dripping, almost pouring, pre onto the floor. Despite it all he stands strong, quieting this other voice as it urgently tries to convince him to give in before he’s able to pick up his phone. In a final act of resistance, or perhaps impotence, he has the lofty idea of calling for help before his mind goes completely blank and, seeing the notification, he instinctually goes to his messages to find who texted him. It’s Juliet! 

First his heart flutters before he’s absolutely confused at the sensation. She’s just his bestie? Weird. He shakes off whatever that was and gets on to reading the message, “heyy girlie- which of these do you want me to post? Oh ya and lmao, are you and james cool if I do the last one?” At the mention of James his pulse again races and there are butterflies in his stomach far more powerful than whatever bizarre feelings he had but moments ago. No time to dwell, Milo starts swiping through the images sent. They’re a photoset of their little group outing to a halloween party last week, the trio, Milo, James and Jules dressed up as a group, as X-men! Respectively dressed as Wolverine, Cyclops and Jean Grey.

He smirks as he starts chubbing up again thinking of how easily he was able to pass as the hairy beast. His eyes then return to see James’ bubble butt in trademark spandex, which only makes it harder to not lose control then and there, moaning as he imagines playing with that ass. Holding to whatever well of willpower remains within him Milo holds strong and keeps his hands above waist level. Finally he gets to the specific image Juliet mentioned, one of him and James messily making out on the dance floor. James yanks at the hairy Milo’s hair, visor half hanging off as Milo reciprocates by shoving his hand into James’ pants. Fuck that’s hot.

Without even touching his needy cock, without any pleading from the new voice in his head, without a single chance to hold back. Simply from seeing the steamy image of him and James, Milo’s mind is overrun with memories and desires of the new man he is. The man he ever was and always will be. And for the second time today, but not the last, he loses control. Cum splatters against his phone as his mind goes blank anew with rushing pleasure. Painting himself once more with his most-used utensil he laughs dumbly as he realizes how swiftly he just came. Almost with pathetic haste, though now he’s quite unfamiliar with any sense of shame. The voice that only just wormed its way into his head spills from his mouth as it fully and forevermore wrests control as the true Milo.

“Huhuhuh guess I should work on my hair trigger,” He grunts as he looks at his phone and texts back some variation of ‘girl that’s porn you can’t post that!!!’ he turns his mind where it goes more often than anywhere in his new life. He wonders what James is doing and immediately texts him. Waiting for a reply Milo heads off to the gym to get a pump in before presumably going to meet him, not worrying about cleaning up or covering his scent. The gym’s for smelling like a man right? He certainly wouldn’t mind if everyone else followed his lead huhuh. Milo bites his lip trying to ignore his hardening cock as he makes his way out of the apartment clad in too-tight, stained gym clothes. 

Before he even makes it out the complex he gets a text from James and promptly changes course. Immediately Milo’s racing down the street to his lover’s apartment. Cock already snaking down his shorts and creating a stain at its nadir, Milo hopes he can keep his needy cock at bay until he makes it. Thinking of the alternative work out he’s to enjoy in bed with James, Milo struggles to not moan obscenely as he waddles as quickly as he can into the lobby of James’ building. Heart racing with excitement he can’t wait to see James in person. Jittery with nerves, it feels like he’s going to meet the man for the first time. Hah! Milo promptly ignores the idea and starts to get some stretching in before their session. Trying to practice mindfulness with a mind thicker than mud he quickly finds himself possessed with memories of their countless times fucking in the past. Easy enough as the pair have been doing so for years. Still nerves assail him as his cock continues to strain his shorts. As the elevator doors click open he smirks as he was able to make it this far without blowing his third load of the day. His cock throbs with anticipation for its release soon to come, and impatiently awaits each and every similar session to follow.

[cryptfile]

𖥨᩠ׄ݁ holy terrain!!!!!!, [ homelander x supe!reader ]

SUMMARY— based on a request aka when you arrive to vought’s tower covered in blood, you certainly don't expect to enjoy John’s comfort after feeling so numb.

WARNINGS — +18 minors dni, implied fem! reader, homelander is a warning himself, usual the boys content, mentions of murder, violence, reader matches homelander’s freak ngl, always wash your hands before fingering #PLEASE, blood kink at it's best, degradation (blink and you’ll miss it), dirty talk, porn without plot sort of?? lmao blame it on my hormones.

SIDE NOTES — hi there, this is a result of me going feral in this new season. English's not my first language, so please be kind, any mistake it's my own fault sorry in advance. Hate this mf but wont deny I wouldn't fuck him to calm him down. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me!

The smell is under your nose.

At first it didn’t bother you to feel the warmth of it, you’re not disgusted by blood. But it’s everywhere. Fucking everywhere. Sticking in your face, staining your damn suit, pooling beneath your feet.

You can feel your own breathing, yet, you're numb to everything else. The screams of terror and the sudden silence of the killing are now something similar as a long-time-ago memory, a distant thought you cannot bring yourself to care about.

And when you came out of the elevator, you don't care about the other people looking at you either. The Vought personal that were always running in the floor, Ashley, or fucking Noir at the matter thinking you're Carrie or something, no one dares to talk to you even when you’re a mere sidekick, too afraid of your explosive personality to even demand to know what happened.

It's almost like you asked for it, to be left alone, to not deal with anyone but your own judgment.

So when you cross the hallway to your dormitory dreaming about a warm shower, you don't expect to see him inside, your relationship with Homelander being too sporadic to even catalog it as one. Yet he's there like it's his house, and you're too tired to even ask why he's there in the first place.

"There you are," he says, but you hear his voice like he's talking miles away from you instead of the couch where he really is. "Something was telling me you were having a rough day."

"Don't remember anything about inviting you to my room" he doesn't care about your tone as he walks closer to you, usually, when he speaks, he only seem to listen to himself. "Didn’t give you a key."

He's oblivious at your words, instead, he seems to be too lost in his own way of seeing things, just waiting for you to say something similar to what you’ve already said in his mind. To admit something like you missed him all day long, that you've been thinking about him as much as he's thinking about you, to fed his ego like only you can do after only a few times of sharing intimacy.

The air is thick, making it harder to breathe as he plants himself in front of you, blue eyes scanning your face as his fingers touched your hair, toying with the strands glued together with blood — Even if it’s gross, he don’t seemed moved by it, mainly, you think, because he’s been through the same too.

"Don't need a key to show up," he laughs like it's obvious, and you look at him like he's having a rougher time than you. "This is my building."

It's almost a reminder for you, that you're living under his roof and have a place on his team because he just wants to. Even when you always do the dirty job no one dares to do, if you save his ass more times you can count, he still remarks you’re living in his world.

“I know,” you fight the need to roll your eyes to the back of your head while responding. It’s something you remind yourself sometimes, how most of them are just plain stupid, always treating you like you were no better than fucking Deep.

The stink under your nose is annoying and your skin feels sticky at the touch so you’re almost begging for just ten minutes of privacy.

“I just missed you” he says in a low voice, almost ashamed of admitting something he would never even dare to say out loud, a sudden verge of vulnerability, strange raw honesty as he looks at you. “Didn’t you miss me too?”

You know the only way of really control him, how to make him do exactly what you want to do, so you let him. Let him act all needy and weird cause you want John wrapped around your finger, unable to think on his own. You want him to believe, whole-heartedly, that in the end he’s the one coming up with the great ideas when it's you every single time.

You don’t find it cruel, he’s the same with you and he deserves it, so when Homelander bites his middle finger to grab the fabric of his gloves and pull it off, you let him touch you, treat you like this lost-dove-in-trouble he loves to see — “Had an awful day. Just wanted to see you,” like that. The correct combination of words and he looks like he got fucking shot by a celestial force, mesmerized. “Always missing you, babe.”

He’s sold by the moment, that tone you use, that little nickname that gets him, the sound of your heartbeat slightly faster than before, not enough to catch you lying, but enough to show you’re indeed, happy to see him as well.

He's pleased, so the next is unexpected to say the least, and you hate every second of it when he carries you like you two are married or something similar, sitting in the sofa with you on his lap.

“What are you-”

He shushes you, and you cannot finish what you’re saying when he pulls you to his chest, the fabric of his suit against your cheek as he, weirdly enough, hugged you close, the sound of his heartbeat instead, loud against your ear as you can feel him breathing beneath you, an steady rhythm as the silence filled the room. It's weird sometimes, to think he's human as well before the compound V.

“Comforting you,” he says in a low voice. His bare hand now grabbing your tight enough to bury his fingers in the covered skin, squeezing it lightly as first, nothing you cannot control. And it's beyond doubt what he truly wants, the way his nose inhales the scent of your body like it's fuel, the blood mixing with your fragrance — "M' here now."

He likes it almost more than his own smell. Almost is the key, cause he cannot help but wish you'd stink like him after waking up next to him that very same day. The thought wakes something new in the alleged superhero, something that stings in his stomach, plaguing his mind with the thought of getting all that he wants, to mark you as his property as he has done before.

He cannot get enough. Of course he can't, he's used to have it all now, to never ask but take. That's why he bites your shoulder, why he didn't mind getting his hands dirty with you and your sticky suit, why he's not grossed out by anything, but instead, turned on by how much you needed him.

But in reality it's the other way around, cause Homelander's the one that pulls you closer, that kisses you like you're something heavenly, just like he is. He's not gentle, yet he knows you like it that way, that you're into that rough force he's used to and would kill any normal person in result.

"Who let you go on that mission on your own, huh?" He asks, concentrated in your suit, pulling it down slightly just to reveal the naked skin under the fabric, clean skin in contrast of all the red. "Seems like they all forgot we're supposed to work together."

You don't get why it feels so nice at first, why the hand on your hip moves through your body like you need some kind of reassurance after all you went through the day.

"I'm okay" you manage to say, the pure need to remind him you're good enough to make things on your own, some kind of memo that explains clearly that you want the same benefits he has. It's useless however, when he has you like that, making you tilt your head to the side, placing random bites in any sight of exposed flesh.

"You're hurt" he says, making you aware of your own body as he presses one hand against the injury on the side of your ribs. He's fucking sick for it, and it doesn't give you any time to react when his fingertips are pushing against the cut, your suit staining with your own blood as you mewl on top of him. "Clearly hurt."

He's drunk on depravity, lost on the face you make when the pain hits you all sudden, stealing the air from your lungs. He's suddenly hard beneath you and his hand's now rest on your hip making you move on top of him, hungry for anything he can get out of you, any little sound you make so focused on keeping quiet, trying so hard to not to fed on his bullshit.

The friction is unbearable, the fresh blood coming out of your now-opened wound, the slight force he uses to tear your suit apart like its nothing, giving him more space to work with as he seemed desperate to have you close. It takes you far from where you were first, the numb feeling that grew like a parasite your stomach swallowing it all, now instead, too sensitive to his touch.

Yes. You hate him for it, hate that it's too easy for him, the traumatized hero with too many issues, the world's strongest man that somehow manages to make a mess out of you just with something so simple as sitting on his lap.

He's so pleased when you moan, when you say his name and you forgot about mannerisms, he needs to pull out his other glove in response as his blonde hair falls over his face, throwing it to the floor as his bare hand is now able to rip apart your suit effortless. The warmth of his palm cups your now bare breast for him, and he leans into your chest, tongue flickering in circles over your nipple as you let out a strangled moan.

"Common, need you to use your words here," he demands for a moment, almost annoyed as you can see the traces of saliva that connected you to his mouth: Why does he look so good? Fucker. "Cause if you don’t stop me now I’ll reduce your suit to ashes.”

“Don’t care,” you know Ashley’s going to be pissed, yet it's not enough to say anything about it. "Fucking hate the suit anyway."

"Such a dirty mouth" you're tugging his hair, hand on your kneecap pulling it slightly to the side as he forces you to open your legs for him. "What can I do with you?"

There it is, the ripped sound of his hands tearing the rest of the fabric apart, the pliable desperation in his touch, grabbing, kissing, and palming the curves of your body as it's holy terrain, unstudied land. He's caught in the smell of your skin finally mixing with his, the way your hips grinded in need for a deeper contact.

He laughs at you, laughs at that sight of defeat when he finally slides the hand that was on your knee under the ripped leavings of your now-destroyed suit. Of course he fucking loves the way you're speechless all thanks to his efforts, that you're unable to keep still as you straddle him now confident he's not repulsed by your dirty nature.

"Did you get turned on by killing?" He asks, and you try to respond something like he's clearly dumb. "Been smelling you since you've got here. All wet, covered in blood."

He's far from lazering you, but you can feel the weight of his gaze almost trespassing you when his hand finally reaches that nice spot between your legs and feels your drenched underwear beneath his fingertips. He can feel it all, and you are aware of it.

He's driven by the sounds of your heartbeat, the way your skin glimmers with sweat, he knows you're enjoying every second of it, his fingertips fondling on top of the cloth moments before pulling it to side. The warm contact with your cunt is enough to make him lose it, enough to make him succumb beneath you as he explores the folds of your aching core, his other hand holding your hip just to keep you in place.

John seems to forget, always does. Cause his grip turns beyond bruising and you can hear the crack when he moves you against his hand, a new broken bone to added to the list as he's unaware to the sound it produces, the pain that makes you shake violently blending immediately with pleasure.

You can take it. You're tough and a big girl who's taken worse, so you don't whine about it knowing you must be healing already, instead, you let yourself be trapped in that haze he created, the sounds of your sex when he hits that very spot you overly-enjoy, digits slightly curving inside as he’s experiencing the velvety feeling of your walls colliding against his hand.

"That's it, keep the show for me.” He loves praising so much since you told him he’s doing good one time, he needs to do the same for you at the first chance he got while you offered yourself to him, riding his fingers. “Such a good slut.”

He’s concentrated in the way his fingers disappear inside of you, the intense smell of blood and sex that now fills the air as you moan out his name, the red droplets in your face much like freckles, far more wicked than pure marks on your skin.

“So nice, so warm,” he says to himself, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your chest as he marks your skin like you’re all his.

He’s sure he’s alleviating your problems, sure he’s making you feel so much better, thumb tracing circles in your swollen bud as he stole cries of pleasure from your parted lips.

You don’t let him know you’re close but he can sense it, the slight change in your breathing each time more erratic, your heartbeats quickening their pace as you got closer to the edge.

And when you really finish, when you’re done riding your high, you grab the remains of your teared suit and look at him with that damn smile he loves. You know he’s expecting to receive anything back, any favor you’re willing to give in return.

But instead, when you got off his lap, you just caress his cheek gently before saying — “See you later, John? Kind of busy now.”

my masterlist

[lovebugism]

Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕

ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.

Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”

You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once. 

He’s lucky he’s so pretty.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.

“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”

“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”

“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.

“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.

“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.

“You,” Eddie deadpans.

You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”

Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?” 

The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.

“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”

“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.

“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.

Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”

“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.

All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.

“You have everything but the looks.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”

“Can’t I?”

“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.

“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.

“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”

“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”

Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back. 

“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.

Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”

“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.

Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.

“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”

Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.

“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”

“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”

“It’s different. You know that.”

You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean. 

You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.

“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.

“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”

The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too. 

You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.

“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”

“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”

“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”

You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie. 

He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.

Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”

“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”

He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”

“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”

Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.

You cower under his stare. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.

“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.

“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.

You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.

“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”

You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again. 

This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.

Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.

“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”

“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.

“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”

Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.

The game of cat and mouse continues.

[flwrstqr]

∿ LOVE ON THE SPOT — PARK SUNGHOON

preview. › you, a world-renowned oscar-winning actor known for your exceptional talent, and sunghoon, a celebrated formula 1 driver, find yourselves entangled in an unexpected fake marriage. at an extravagant party, your parents announce an arranged marriage to a man you despise. desperate to escape, you impulsively point to sunghoon, a random stranger in the room, and claim to be married to him. as sunghoon plays along and you navigate this fake marriage, could genuine feelings develop from such an impulsive decision?

meet the cast. f1 driver!sunghoon x actor fem!reader (feat noh yunah from illit + cho miyeon from gidle + hyung line of enhypen + other cos)

genre. fake marriage, strangers to lovers, opposites attract, slightly enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, medium fic, crack, angst

word count. 13k+

warnings. cursing, partying, drinking, profanity (no nsfw or smut), lots of bickering between them, sunghoon being very cold in the fic, fighting, yn being drunk, kissing, small grammar errors

danielle's note 𖥔 i really wanted to write an f1 racing au but like even tho i dont really watch f1. but I LOVEE f1 aus,, theyre js so hot yk!!! (and this fic is for my sunghoon girls!!!! wink wink im looking at u jenni) so i hope u guys enjoy this :333 also ignore how its like lowercase than uppercase cause i wrote this for 1 week..

﹙⠀ PLAYiNG . . . bad boy by red velvet, woke up by xg, break up with you girlfriend by ariana grande, so american by olivia rodrigo, like that by baby monster, the great mermaid by lesserafim

YOU'VE BEEN IN SPOTLIGHT FOR AS LONG AS YOU CAN REMEMBER. YN LN in another movie and killing it. The world knows your name, your face, your every move. A famous actor, adored by millions, you’ve mastered the art of charm on-screen and off. Cameras flash wherever you go, and you’ve become a professional at smiling through it all.

Then there’s Sunghoon, the world-renowned F1 driver. Where your world revolves around precision under the watchful eyes of fans, his is all speed and adrenaline. He’s intense, reckless even, living life on the edge at 200 miles per hour. Headlines scream his victories, and you’d think he’d be like every other celebrity you’ve met—full of ego (well has high ego somewhat). But Sunghoon is different.

You’re polar opposites, and everyone knows it. You, poised and polished, carefully calculated in the public eye. Him, unpredictable and wild.

Yet, somehow, your paths crossed, and despite the differences, there’s an undeniable pull between you two. Maybe it's just a play or an act. Or maybe, just maybe, opposites do attract.

THE PARTY WAS BUZZING WITH ENERGY—celebrities everywhere, people laughing, glasses clinking, and the music providing a backdrop to the scene. You stood with Miyeon and Yunah, doing your best to enjoy yourself despite feeling like you'd rather be anywhere else.

“Why do we keep coming to these things?” you sighed, taking a sip of your drink.

Miyeon grinned. “Because you only live once,”

Yunah laughed. “And because there’s always a story by the end of the night.”

You were about to respond when you felt a sudden dread creep up your spine. From the corner of your eye, you saw him—Youngdae. The boy you’d hated since forever. He was strutting towards you with that insufferable smirk on his face, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You groaned. “Great, here we go.”

Miyeon followed your gaze and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, of course he’s here.”

“I swear he has a radar for wherever you are,” Yunah muttered under her breath.

Before you could brace yourself, Youngdae was already in front of you, flashing that arrogant smile you’d come to hate. “YN, looking stunning as always,” he smirked, leaning a little too close.

You took a step back, barely suppressing an eye roll. “What do you want, Youngdae?”

He chuckled, clearly not picking up on your disinterest. “I just wanted to say hello. Maybe catch up. You know, we could make a great pair, if you gave me a chance.”

Miyeon sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes along with you. “Can you just not?"

Youngdae shot her a look before refocusing his attention on you. “Come on, YN. Why keep fighting it? You and I—”

“Are never going to happen,” Yunah interrupted, stepping between you and Youngdae with a firm hand on his chest. “Back off.”

Youngdae frowned but didn’t push it. He simply shrugged and gave you one last wink before walking away.

“Ugh, he’s so persistent,” Miyeon grumbled as she turned to you. “How do you deal with him?”

“I don’t,” you replied with a soft laughter. “I just survive.”

But just as you were about to relax, you saw your parents making their way toward you. Your mom was smiling, your dad looking pleased as ever. You knew that look. They were up to something.

“There you are, sweetheart!” your mom said brightly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

Your dad smiled beside her, looking equally pleased. “We have some news.”

You raised an eyebrow, wary of whatever was coming. “What news?”

“Well,” your mom began, glancing between you and your friends, “we’ve found you a date. Finally!”

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

Your dad nodded as though this was the best thing in the world. “Yes, with Youngdae. His family is very well connected, and we think—”

“No,” you said, your voice rising slightly. “Absolutely not. There’s no way.”

Your mom blinked, looking surprised by your reaction. “What do you mean? He’s a very eligible young man.”

You stammered, trying to find a way out “I… I… I’m already seeing someone!”

Both your parents stared at you, confusion written across their faces. “You are?” your dad asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes,” you lied quickly, panic bubbling inside you. “I’ve been seeing someone for a while now, actually.”

Your mom looked intrigued. “Who?”

You swallowed hard, desperately scanning the crowd for someone to point to, just to get out of this mess. Your eyes landed on a guy standing by the bar—a tall figure with dark hair and sharp features. You didn’t recognize him at all, but he looked like he could play the part for a moment.

Hastily, you pointed in his direction. “Him. Over there. He’s… he’s my boyfriend.”

Your parents followed your gaze, squinting toward the bar. Your mom’s eyes widened slightly. “Are you talking about him?”

You nodded, still pointing even though you felt like you were spiraling further into this ridiculous situation. “Yes, we’ve been together for a while now.”

Miyeon was choking on her drink at this point, and Yunah gave you a look like you’d completely lost your mind.

Your dad frowned a little. “Who is he? What’s his name?”

You paused, suddenly realizing you didn’t even know the guy’s name. “Oh, uh… his name is…”

Miyeon whispered urgently beside you, “Don’t make it worse. His name is Sunghoon,”

You repeated,“Sunghoon. Yes Sunghoon.”

Your parents exchanged a glance, and your mom raised an eyebrow. “Sunghoon? You mean the F1 driver?”

Your heart stopped. What? You had no idea. You quickly played along, though, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yes, that’s him. We’ve been keeping things quiet because, you know… the press and all that.”

Your dad looked skeptical, but your mom seemed delighted. “Well, why didn’t you say anything sooner? This is big news!”

Your mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this conversation. “We were waiting for the right time.”

“And when did he propose?” your mom asked, clearly hooked on the story now.

You mentally cursed yourself for making it worse. “Yesterday! Yes, he proposed yesterday. It’s all very new.”

Your parents nodded thoughtfully, clearly pleased with the idea. “Well, we’ll have to meet him properly later,” your dad said. “But for now, we’re glad you’ve found someone.”

Your mom smiled warmly. “We’ll leave you to enjoy your night, darling. But make sure we meet him soon.”

And just like that, they were gone, leaving you standing there in stunned silence.

Miyeon burst out laughing as soon as they were out of earshot. “Oh my god, that was insane.”

Yunah was shaking her head, still in disbelief. “Do you even know who Sunghoon is?”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I have no idea.”

Miyeon grinned, looking like she was thoroughly enjoying this. “Well, you just told your parents you’re marrying one of the most famous F1 drivers in the world. Good luck with that.”

Your heart sank as you glanced over at the guy you’d pointed to. He still hadn’t noticed anything, thank god, but now you were stuck in the biggest lie of your life.

How were you going to get out of this one?

THE PARTY CONTINUED AROUND YOU, the air buzzing with conversation and the occasional laughter. The idea of approaching the guy you had claimed as your “boyfriend” was now looming over you like a dark cloud. Miyeon and Yunah had been laughing about it all night.

“Okay,” you muttered under your breath, straightening your dress. “He's my future husband.”

You caught sight of Sunghoon at the bar again—still tall, still effortlessly cool, and completely unaware of the situation you had dragged him into. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and made your way over, trying to act casual as you pretended to be interested in getting a drink.

"One tequila please," you smiled at the bartender.

As you approached, he glanced at you briefly, then immediately looked away, not even acknowledging your presence. You awkwardly stood next to him, waiting for him to say something, but all you got was silence.

“So… uh, hey,” you started, your voice a little too high-pitched from the nerves. “How’s it going?”

Sunghoon barely glanced at you, his expression flat as he responded, “Fine.”

You blinked, not expecting him to be so cold. You cleared your throat, trying again. “So, I’ve noticed you’ve been hanging around the bar a lot. Are you enjoying the party?”

He sighed, clearly uninterested. “Look, I’m not really here to make friends nor do I know you.”

Your smile faltered as you realized this was going to be harder than you thought. “Oh, no, I wasn’t—” You cut yourself off, feeling a bit foolish. You tried to laugh it off, but it came out awkward. “I was just trying to, you know, start a conversation…”

Sunghoon didn’t even bother to look at you this time. “I’m not interested in whatever this is,” he said bluntly, taking a sip of his drink and turning his back to you slightly, as if dismissing the conversation altogether.

Great, this was going really well.

Before you could think of another way, you heard your mom’s voice calling your name. You looked up in panic to see your parents making their way over, all smiles and clearly excited to meet the man you had so boldly claimed as your fiancé.

You felt your heart leap into your throat. There was no turning back now.

With no other choice, you quickly reached out and grabbed Sunghoon’s arm, yanking him closer to you with a forced smile plastered on your face. “Oh, there you are!” you said brightly, doing your best to make it sound natural. “I was just telling them about how we’re, you know… together.”

Sunghoon stiffened under your touch, his eyes darting between you and your parents, confusion written all over his face. “What—?”

You discreetly stepped on his foot, hard, causing him to wince and bite his lip in pain. You shot him a quick, pleading look, hoping he’d catch on.

“Just play along,” you whispered harshly under your breath, your smile never faltering.

He looked at you for a long moment, clearly irritated, but finally sighed, giving in. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his tone reluctant. “We’re, uh, together.”

Your parents beamed, completely oblivious to the tension between the two of you. Your mom reached out to shake Sunghoon’s hand enthusiastically. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Sunghoon! We’ve heard so much about you.”

Sunghoon forced a tight smile, his arm still trapped in your grip. “Yeah… same here.”

Your dad patted him on the back, grinning. “You’re quite the catch! Our YN is lucky to have you.”

You could feel Sunghoon’s frustration simmering beneath the surface, but he kept his expression in check. “Lucky, right,” he mumbled through gritted teeth.

You stepped on his foot again, a little less hard this time, and leaned into him slightly, trying to keep up appearances. “Isn��t he just the best?” you cooed, practically cringing at how fake you sounded.

Sunghoon glanced at you with a pained expression, but he played along, his voice strained. “Yeah… I’m great.”

Your parents couldn’t have been more delighted. “Well, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now,” your mom said with a wink. “But don’t think you’re getting out of dinner with us soon! We need to celebrate this engagement properly.”

You forced another bright smile as they walked away, your stomach churning with dread at the thought of dinner with your parents—and Sunghoon, of all people.

As soon as your parents were out of sight, you let go of Sunghoon’s arm and stepped back, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about all of that,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this, I just—”

Sunghoon held up a hand, cutting you off. “Save it,” he said, his voice clipped. “Just don’t step on my foot again.”

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty, but also relieved that the worst was over. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear,” you said, trying to sound sincere.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You owe me big time,” he muttered before turning to leave, shaking his head.

A FEW DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE THE PARTY INCIDENT, but the chaos you’d caused still lingered in Sunghoon’s mind. He found himself in the garage with his friends, Jay, Jake, and Heeseung, leaning against his sleek, black sports car as they all casually chatted about their lives. Sunghoon was half-listening, his mind elsewhere, until Jake asked him something that brought him back to reality.

“So, are you going to be in the next race?” Jake asked, wiping his hands on a rag after tinkering with his car.

Sunghoon shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “What’s up with you lately? You’ve been distracted since that party.”

Sunghoon stared at the concrete floor for a moment before casually blurting out, “I’m dating or engaged. Or… something.”

The garage fell into silence. Jay, who had been leaning against a workbench, immediately turned to face Sunghoon with wide eyes. “What?”

Jake looked like he had just swallowed his tongue, blinking at Sunghoon like he hadn’t heard correctly. Heeseung, who was tightening a bolt on his engine, froze mid-motion, his wrench slipping from his grip and clattering to the ground.

“Dude,” Jay said slowly, standing up straight. “Are you serious right now? Did you just say you got engaged?”

Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck, looking both tired and mildly amused at their reactions. “Yeah… or something like that.”

“What do you mean ‘something like that’?” Jake demanded, clearly confused. “Since when are you even dating anyone?”

Sunghoon sighed, leaning further back against his car as he explained, “It’s complicated. Some girl at the party basically told her parents we’re engaged because she was trying to get out of a situation, and I got dragged into it.”

Heeseung let out a low whistle. “Wait, so you’re fake engaged?”

“Pretty much,” Sunghoon said, rubbing his temples like the whole thing gave him a headache.

Jay shook his head, still in disbelief. “That doesn’t even sound real, man. Who is this girl?”

“I don’t even know her that well,” Sunghoon admitted, sounding exasperated. “Her name’s YN,”

Heeseung blinked. “Wait, YN LN?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirmed. “That’s the one.”

Jay nearly choked on his own spit. “You’re telling me you’re fake engaged to the YN LN? The one who’s all over the headlines?”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “She’s all over the headlines?”

Jake laughed incredulously, leaning against his car for support. “Dude, how do you not know that? She’s, like, one of the biggest actors right now. ”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “I don’t pay attention to that stuff. All I know is that she’s got her parents convinced that we’re together, and now I have to figure out how to get out of this without causing a massive scene.”

Jay shook his head, still grinning. “This is insane. You, of all people, caught up in some fake engagement with a celebrity.”

Heeseung smirked. “You’ve been in some high-speed races before, but this might be the wildest thing you’ve ever gotten into.”

Sunghoon groaned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell me about it. And the worst part is, her parents think I’m some perfect gentleman or something. They’re probably planning the wedding already.”

Jake chuckled, nudging Sunghoon with his elbow. “Well, look at the bright side—you’ve always been good under pressure. This is just another challenge.”

Sunghoon shot him a look. “Yeah, but this isn’t a race. This is someone’s life we’re talking about.”

Jay grinned. “And yours, apparently.”

Sunghoon sighed again, feeling the weight of the situation settling on him once more. “I’m just trying to figure out how to handle it without causing a mess. I don’t even know why I agreed to go along with it in the first place. Plus, I don't know this girl.”

Heeseung patted him on the back, smirking. “Maybe you just didn’t want to let the girl down. Sounds like you’re already some hero,”

Sunghoon shot him a deadpan look. “Yeah, sure. That’s exactly what I’m going for.”

Jay laughed. “Well, good luck, man. Just try not to end up accidentally married before you figure out how to get out of this.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks for the advice,” he said dryly with a hint of sarcasm. “I’ll be sure to avoid that.”

MIYEON AND YUNAH DRAGGED YOU OUT TO A STREET RACE. you weren’t exactly in the mood for it, but they insisted, pulling you along with promises of fun and a chance to clear your mind (and meet your so-said husband). engines roared, and the night was alive with the sound of revving motors and the sharp smell of gasoline.

as you scanned the area, your eyes landed on a familiar figure leaning casually against a sleek, black car. sunghoon. he looked as cool and composed as ever, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, eyes scanning the crowd with a bored expression. when his gaze finally met yours, his face twisted into a look of irritation, and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

of course he would be here, you thought. but you knew you needed to talk to him about the upcoming dinner. miyeon and yunah noticed your sudden change in demeanor and shot you questioning looks, but you brushed them off, telling them you'd be back in a minute.

you made your way over to where sunghoon was standing. he didn’t bother to move as you approached, just watched you with that same indifferent, slightly irritated expression.

“sunghoon,” you started, trying to keep your voice steady, “we need to talk.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly uninterested. “about what?” he asked, his tone dripping with disinterest.

“about the dinner,” you replied, not backing down despite his attitude. “my parents want us to be there together.”

sunghoon let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes again. “can’t you just tell your parents we got into some argument and divorced or something?” he said coldly, his voice laced with sarcasm.

you clenched your fists, trying to keep your cool. “no, i can’t do that, sunghoon. it’s already confirmed. my parents are planning a wedding.”

for a moment, sunghoon’s expression faltered, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual cold look “a wedding?” he repeated, as if the word itself was foreign to him. “are you serious?”

“dead serious,” you replied, “they think we’re the perfect match or something. and they’re not taking no for an answer.”

sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, though it was loud enough for you to hear. “so what? we’re supposed to just play along with this charade? pretend like everything’s fine?”

“i don’t see any other option,” you said, “if we don’t, they’ll just make things worse. we need to figure out how to handle this.”

sunghoon didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting away from you as he stared off into the distance, lost in thought. after a moment, he pulled out his phone and held it out to you, his expression unreadable. “give me your number,” he said, his tone more resigned than anything.

you blinked, slightly taken aback by his sudden change in attitude, but quickly recovered, pulling out your own phone and exchanging numbers with him. the whole interaction felt strange, like you were stepping into unfamiliar territory.

“i’ll text you the details,” you said, trying to keep the conversation moving. “we’ll figure out a plan.”

sunghoon nodded, slipping his phone back into his pocket. for a brief moment, it almost seemed like the tension between you two had eased, but then he spoke again, his voice back to its usual coldness. “just don’t expect me to play nice,” he warned, his eyes narrowing slightly. “i’m not doing this for you. i’m doing this to get them off my back.”

THE NIGHT OF THE DINNER ARRIVED FATER THAN YOU ANTICIPATED, and before you knew it, you found yourself standing outside your parents’ house with sunghoon by your side. the two of you looked like the perfect couple, at least on the surface. you were both dressed impeccably—sunghoon in a sharp black suit (for the first time) and you in a simple, black dress that your mom had insisted you wear.

as you walked up to the front door, you forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. “remember, just play along,” you whispered to sunghoon as you reached for the doorbell.

sunghoon sighed, barely masking his irritation. “yeah, yeah, i know the drill.”

the door swung open almost immediately, and you were greeted by your mother’s beaming face. “oh, there they are! my favorite couple,” she gushed, pulling you both into a tight hug. sunghoon stiffened beside you, clearly uncomfortable with the affectionate display, but he managed to return your mother’s smile.

“hi, mom,” you said, your voice a little too bright. “we’re here.”

“come in, come in!” she insisted, ushering you both inside. “dinner’s almost ready. your father’s been looking forward to this all week.”

as you entered the dining room, the smell of home-cooked food filled the air, mingling with the scent of fresh flowers. everything was arranged, from the perfectly folded napkins to the silverware.

“you two look wonderful,” your dad remarked, giving you both an approving nod as he took his seat at the head of the table. “it’s nice to finally have a proper family dinner.”

sunghoon flashed a polite smile, though you could tell he was barely holding back his annoyance. “thanks, sir. we’re happy to be here.”

you shot him a quick glance, impressed by his ability to keep up the act, even if it was just barely. every time your parents asked about your “relationship,” you forced a smile and nodded along with whatever sunghoon said, even when he was being sarcastic.

“so, how did you two meet?” your mom asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“it was... quite the story,” you began, trying to come up with something that wouldn’t sound too ridiculous.

sunghoon leaned back in his chair, smirking slightly. “yeah, she practically threw herself at me,” he said with a teasing tone that made you want to kick him under the table.

“oh, did she now?” your dad chuckled, clearly amused.

you felt your cheeks flush, but you kept your composure, forcing a laugh. “he’s exaggerating, of course,” you said, giving sunghoon a pointed look. “we met through mutual friends.”

sunghoon shrugged, his smirk never leaving his face. “something like that.”

sunghoon seemed to take every opportunity to make subtle jabs at you, whether it was a sarcastic comment about your habits or a teasing remark about your so-called relationship. it took everything in you not to snap at him in front of your parents.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, your parents excused themselves to the kitchen, leaving you and sunghoon alone at the table. the moment they were out of earshot, you turned to him, your fake smile dropping instantly.

“do you have to be such a jerk?” you hissed, keeping your voice low.

sunghoon rolled his eyes, leaning forward with an exasperated sigh. “i’m just trying to get through this as quickly as possible. it’s not my fault your parents are so nosy.”

“they’re not nosy, they’re just... interested,” you retorted, though even you could hear how weak your argument sounded. “and you don’t have to be so sarcastic all the time.”

“and you don’t have to be so uptight,” sunghoon shot back, his eyes narrowing. “seriously, you act like this is the end of the world.”

“maybe because it feels like it,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “i didn’t ask for any of this, sunghoon.”

“neither did i,” he countered, his voice cold. “but here we are.”

before you could respond, you heard footsteps approaching, and you quickly plastered a fake smile back on your face. sunghoon did the same, though his expression looked more like a grimace than anything else.

your parents reentered the room, both of them carrying trays of dessert. “hope you two saved room for dessert!” your mom chimed, setting the trays down on the table.

“of course,” sunghoon replied smoothly, his tone completely different from the one he’d used just moments ago. he even managed to let out a laugh, though it sounded forced to your ears. you joined in, though your own laughter felt hollow.

as the evening finally came to a close, you stood by the door with sunghoon, thanking your parents for the dinner. they were both smiling, clearly satisfied with how the night had gone.

“thanks for coming,” your mom said, giving you both a warm hug. “we’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“definitely,” you lied, forcing another smile. “we’ll let you know.”

as soon as you were out the door, you let out a long sigh, the tension leaving your body all at once. sunghoon walked beside you in silence, his expression unreadable.

“thanks for playing along,” you said quietly, not really expecting a response.

sunghoon glanced at you, his eyes softening slightly. “yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though there was less bite in his tone than before.

YOU WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF A BUSY SHOOT when one of your co-workers approached you with a grin. “hey, we’re planning a party for yunjin’s birthday this weekend! you should totally come,” they said, excitement bubbling in their voice.

you paused, considering it for a moment. parties weren’t really your thing; you preferred quieter, more intimate gatherings. (despite you saying that you were some "extrovert). but you didn’t want to seem like a killjoy, especially since you’d been getting along well with the rest of the crew. “hmm, sure,” you replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.

your co-worker beamed. “great! it’s gonna be a lot of fun. oh, and by the way, it’s a plus-one kind of thing. you can bring a friend… or your boyfriend.” they winked at you, clearly teasing.

you managed a small laugh, though inside, you were already feeling the pressure. “oh, okay,” you said, keeping your tone light. but as they walked away, the reality of the situation began to sink in. a plus-one. great.

back in your dressing room, you slumped into a chair, staring at your phone. you were part of a close-knit trio of friends, and the idea of inviting just one of them felt wrong. how could you choose between them? you knew if you invited one, the other would inevitably feel left out. the last thing you wanted was to create tension among your friends.

hours passed, and you found yourself going back and forth in your mind. should you just skip the party altogether? but then again, you’d already said yes, and backing out now would seem weird. besides, yunjin was nice, and you didn’t want to disappoint her.

finally, an idea began to take shape in your mind. it wasn’t ideal, but it might be the simplest solution. with a resigned sigh, you decided to invite sunghoon. after all, you owed him for putting up with your parents’ dinner, and this could be a way to pay him back. besides, it wasn’t like you were going to have a good time anyway—might as well drag him along.

you typed out a quick message and hesitated for a moment before hitting send.

hey, there’s this party for one of my co-workers. it’s a plus-one thing. wanna come?

it didn’t take long for his reply to come through.

fine. don’t expect me to stay for long, though.

you rolled your eyes at the screen, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. typical sunghoon. at least he agreed to go, which took some of the pressure off you. you quickly texted back a simple thanks, and put your phone away, trying not to overthink the whole thing.

THE BAR WAS ALIVE WITH ENERGY as you stepped inside with sunghoon by your side. people were packed together on the dance floor. laughter and chatter filled the air, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of a drunken cheer. couples were scattered around, some dancing close, others tucked away in corners, stealing kisses that made you roll your eyes.

“this place is… lively,” sunghoon muttered, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“yeah, it’s a party,” you replied with a slight shrug, though you couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. you weren’t exactly the party type, and neither was sunghoon, which made the whole situation feel a little surreal.

deciding to get a drink to ease the tension, you made your way over to the bar, sunghoon following closely behind. the bartender barely glanced at you as he took your order, quickly mixing up a couple of drinks and sliding them across the counter. you grabbed your glass, taking a sip of the cool liquid, hoping it would help you relax.

sunghoon took a swig of his drink, his expression unreadable. “so, how long do we have to stay here?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“just a little while,” you replied, trying not to sound too eager to leave. “it’s yunjin’s birthday. i can’t just disappear after showing up.”

sunghoon sighed but didn’t argue, taking another drink instead. just as you were about to take another sip, you heard a familiar voice call out your name.

“oh my god, y/n!” yunjin’s voice rang out, full of excitement as she made her way over to you. she looked gorgeous, her outfit sparkling under the bar’s dim lights. “i’m so glad you came!” she exclaimed, wrapping you in a quick hug.

“of course,” you replied, returning her hug with a smile. “happy birthday!”

as yunjin pulled away, her eyes drifted over to sunghoon, and her expression shifted from excitement to shock. “wait a minute… are you with the famous f1 driver, sunghoon?!” she nearly squealed, her eyes wide with disbelief.

sunghoon gave her a polite nod, a small smile playing on his lips. “that would be me,” he said, his tone smooth and calm as ever.

yunjin’s mouth dropped open in awe, clearly starstruck. “i can’t believe this! i didn’t know you were engaged to him, y/n!” she exclaimed.

“uh, yeah… we go way back,” you said awkwardly, trying to keep the conversation light. yunjin was too caught up in her excitement to notice your discomfort, though, as she quickly introduced herself to sunghoon, gushing about how much she admired his career.

sunghoon handled it with grace, his usual cool demeanor never faltering. you watched the interaction with a mixture of amusement and mild irritation—sunghoon always seemed so effortless in social situations, even when he clearly didn’t want to be there.

after a few more minutes of chatting, yunjin finally excused herself to mingle with other guests, leaving you and sunghoon alone again. you downed the rest of your drink in one gulp.

“she seems nice,” sunghoon commented, his tone neutral as he sipped his drink.

“yeah, she’s great,” you agreed, though your mind was elsewhere. you could still feel the lingering stares from some of the other partygoers who had noticed sunghoon’s presence. it wasn’t every day that a famous athlete showed up at a regular birthday party, after all.

as the night wore on, you found yourself relaxing a little, the alcohol helping to take the edge off your nerves. you and sunghoon stayed near the bar, occasionally chatting about nothing in particular. but just as you were starting to feel comfortable, disaster struck.

you reached for another drink, but your hand wobbled, and before you knew it, the glass tipped over, spilling its contents all over your dress. you let out a startled gasp, staring down at the growing stain on your outfit.

“fuck,” you muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. without thinking, you quickly excused yourself and made trip to the bathroom, hoping to save your dress before the stain set in.

as you stood in front of the mirror, dabbing at the stain with a paper towel, the bathroom door swung open, and sunghoon stepped inside. you glanced up, surprised to see him there.

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“what does it look like? helping,” sunghoon replied, grabbing another paper towel and joining you at the sink. his presence was a little too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned in to inspect the damage.

“i can handle it,” you insisted, though you didn’t move away.

“clearly,” he said dryly, his lips curving into a slight smirk as he continued to blot the stain. the scent of his cologne filled the small space, a mix of something clean and crisp that was distinctly him. it made your heart skip a beat, though you tried to ignore it.

“you didn’t have to follow me in here, you know,” you muttered, focusing on the task at hand.

“someone had to make sure you didn’t completely ruin your dress,” he retorted, his tone teasing. “besides, it’s not like i was having a great time out there.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “you’re such a pessimist.”

“and you’re such a klutz,” he shot back. for a moment, the bickering felt almost normal, like you weren’t two people stuck in a fake marriage.

as you continued to dab at the stain, your hands occasionally brushed against each other, and you became acutely aware of how close sunghoon was standing to you. the small bathroom seemed to shrink around you.

“you know, you didn’t have to invite me to this,” sunghoon said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “i’m sure you could’ve brought someone you actually like.”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you replied, though there was a hint of playfulness in your tone. “i figured this was a good way to pay you back for that dinner. besides, i couldn’t just pick one friend to invite. it felt… wrong.”

sunghoon glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. “i get it. but still, this whole thing is just—”

“a fake marriage, yeah, i know,” you cut in, a bit more bitterly than you intended. “but we’re stuck with it, so we might as well make the best of it.”

unknown to either of you, the bathroom door had been left slightly ajar, and just outside, youngdae stood with a smug smirk on his face. he had heard every word, and as he quietly backed away, a plan began to form in his mind. he couldn’t believe his luck—overhearing something as juicy as this was too good to pass up.

as he slipped back into the crowd, unnoticed, you and sunghoon continued to bicker in the bathroom, completely unaware that your secret was no longer safe.

YOU HAD NEVER IMAGINED YOURSELF IN THSI SITUATION—standing in a bridal boutique, skimming through racks of wedding dresses with sunghoon awkwardly hovering nearby. your parents had practically forced the two of you to go dress shopping together, giving you an outrageously huge budget and insisting that sunghoon accompany you. after all, what kind of engaged couple doesn’t choose their wedding dress together?

“can’t believe i’m doing this,” sunghoon muttered under his breath, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stood off to the side, clearly uncomfortable.

“oh, come on,” you teased, holding up a dress with intricate lace detailing. “how bad can it be? just think of it as a chance to play dress-up.”

he rolled his eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “yeah, ‘cause that’s exactly what i want to do on my day off—play dress-up.”

you ignored his sarcasm, too engrossed in the rows of dresses before you. everything sparkled and shimmered under the boutique’s soft lighting, and you couldn’t help but gasp in awe every time you pulled out a new dress. “oh my god, isn’t this one so pretty?” you exclaimed, holding up a strapless gown with a flowing tulle skirt.

sunghoon glanced at it, his expression unreadable. “yeah, it’s nice,” he said noncommittally.

“just nice?” you pouted, returning the dress to its rack. “you’re supposed to be helping me choose, you know.”

“i am helping,” he protested, though the way he stood there like a statue suggested otherwise. “i’m here, aren’t i?”

you huffed, turning back to the dresses. after a few more minutes of browsing, you finally picked out a few that caught your eye and headed to the fitting room. “okay, i’m gonna try these on. don’t go anywhere,” you instructed, pointing at him as you disappeared behind the curtain.

sunghoon sighed and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. he wasn’t sure how he ended up in this position—fake marriage or not, this felt a little too real for his liking. but as much as he wanted to be anywhere else, he couldn’t deny the slight curiosity that tugged at him as he waited for you to reappear.

a few minutes later, you stepped out of the fitting room in the first dress, a simple yet elegant gown with delicate lace sleeves. you did a little twirl, smiling at yourself in the mirror before turning to sunghoon. “what do you think?”

sunghoon’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at you. for a moment, he forgot how to speak, his usual cool demeanor slipping as he took in the sight before him. when had you become this… pretty?

he quickly schooled his expression, trying to sound indifferent. “it’s okay, i guess.”

you frowned, though not completely disappointed. “just okay? really?”

“yeah, it’s fine,” he said, averting his gaze as if the dress wasn’t making his heart race.

you sighed, but didn’t let his lackluster response dampen your mood. “well, i have a few more to try on. maybe you’ll like the next one better.”

as you disappeared back into the fitting room, sunghoon let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. what was wrong with him? this was just dress shopping, nothing more. yet, the image of you in that dress lingered in his mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.

a few minutes later, you emerged again, this time in a dress that was the complete opposite of the first—sleek, modern, with a plunging neckline and an open back. you looked at sunghoon expectantly, waiting for his reaction.

once again, sunghoon felt his heart skip a beat. the dress hugged your curves perfectly, accentuating every line and angle. he swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. “it’s… okay too.”

you raised an eyebrow, not convinced. “that’s all you have to say? you’re not very helpful, you know.”

“they all look fine,” he insisted, though in truth, he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. every dress you tried on seemed to outshine the last, and it was becoming harder for him to maintain his usual aloofness.

you tried on a few more dresses, each one stunning in its own way, but every time you asked for his opinion, he gave the same response: “it’s okay.”

by the time you tried on the fifth dress, you were starting to get frustrated. “you literally said the same thing for the past five dresses,” you pointed out, hands on your hips as you glared at him in the mirror.

sunghoon shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of your stare. “well, they’re all okay, i guess…” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“ugh, you’re impossible,” you groaned, though there was a hint of a smile on your lips. “at this rate, we’ll never choose a dress.”

sunghoon glanced at you, his gaze softening for a moment. “you look good in all of them,” he admitted quietly, barely loud enough for you to hear.

you paused, taken aback by his words. it wasn’t much, but coming from him, it felt like a genuine compliment. “really?” you asked, your annoyance melting away as a smile spread across your face.

sunghoon looked away, feeling a little embarrassed. “yeah, really,” he said, clearing his throat as if to cover up the sincerity in his voice.

eventually, after much thinking, you finally chose a dress—a classic, timeless gown that felt like the perfect balance between elegance and simplicity. as you stood in front of the mirror, admiring the final choice, you couldn’t help but notice the way sunghoon was looking at you. his usual stoic expression had softened, and there was something in his eyes that made your heart flutter.

“so, this is the one?” he asked, his voice oddly gentle.

“yeah,” you replied, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “this is the one.” maybe, just maybe, this fake marriage was becoming something a little more real.

YOU, MIYEON, AND YUNAH ARE SPRAWLED COMFORTABLY ON THE OVERSIZED COUCH in Miyeon’s living room, a place you've all come to consider your second house (because of how many times the three of you stay at).

Yunah is on her phone, as usual, her eyes scanning the screen rapidly. Suddenly, she pauses, her lips curling into a smirk. “Well, well, look who’s trending,” she drawls, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You and Sunghoon are all over the news. Everyone's saying you’re officially together.”

Miyeon perks up at this as she leans forward. “Let me see!” she says eagerly, reaching out for Yunah’s phone.

Yunah hands it over with a knowing smile. “It’s literally everywhere,” she repeats, her tone teasing but supportive. “You guys are the talk of the town.”

Miyeon’s eyes widen as she scrolls through the headlines, her fingers flying across the screen. “Wow, they’re even calling you the ‘It’ couple of the year,” she remarks, half in awe, half in disbelief. “This is huge!”

You sigh, “I knew the story would get out, but I didn’t expect it to blow up like this,” you admit, running a hand through your hair.

Yunah chuckles, nudging you playfully. “Well, you’re both celebrities in your own right. An actor and a Formula 1 driver? That’s headline gold right there.”

Miyeon hands the phone back to Yunah, turning her attention to you with a curious glint in her eye. “So, how’s it been? Pretending to be married to one of the hottest guys on the planet? Any sparks flying yet?”

You blush, recalling the moments you’ve shared with Sunghoon—the way his gaze lingers on you a little longer than necessary, the way his cologne mingles in the air, the way he complimented you at the wedding dress shop. “It’s… interesting,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral. “We’re both just trying to play our parts and not let things get too complicated.”

“Too late for that,” Yunah quips, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, there’s gotta be something there.”

Miyeon nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, you can’t fool us. We know you too well. Besides, if you’re gonna be in the spotlight, you might as well enjoy it, right?”

You let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth of their support. “I don’t know… it’s all so confusing. One minute, it feels like we’re just playing a role, and the next, it feels… real.”

Yunah places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Just take it one step at a time. Don’t overthink it. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.”

Miyeon grins, giving you an encouraging look. “And in the meantime, we’ll be here to cheer you on. Fake or not, this is your story, and you get to write the ending.”

THE NIGHT AIR WAS THICK WITH THE ENERGY of the city as you, Miyeon, and Yunah staggered out of the cozy, dimly lit bar you’d spent the evening in. The three of you had gone out for a few drinks to unwind, but a few turned into more than you could count, and now you were decidedly tipsy—no, scratch that, you were drunk. The kind of drunk that makes the world spin and words blur together.

Miyeon, ever the responsible one, was trying to hail a cab while Yunah clung to your arm, giggling uncontrollably at something you couldn’t quite remember. A soft breeze ruffling your hair as you leaned against a lamppost, the ground feeling a little too far away for comfort.

“I should call… someone…” you muttered, fumbling for your phone in your bag, your fingers clumsy and uncoordinated.

Yunah snorted, still giggling. “Who’re you gonna call? Ghostbusters?”

“Sunghoon,” you slurred, finding his number on your phone with surprising accuracy despite the alcohol fogging your brain. Without another thought, you pressed the call button, bringing the phone to your ear as it rang.

On the other end, Sunghoon was sitting on the couch in his sleek, modern apartment, absentmindedly flipping through channels on the TV. He wasn’t really paying attention to anything in particular; his mind was elsewhere. Specifically, it was on you. At first, he’d told himself it was just part of the act, that he was only playing the role of your fake fiancé. But the more time he spent with you, the more he started to question that.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he glanced at the screen, frowning slightly when he saw your name. You never called him, especially not this late. With a hint of worry, he picked up. “Hello?”

“Sunghoon!” you exclaimed, far too loud for a late-night call. Your voice was slurred.

“Are you… drunk?” he asked, his concern deepening. He could hear you giggling on the other end, and it did something funny to his chest. “Where are you?”

“Out… with Miyeon and Yunah. We’re having soooo much fun!” You hiccuped.

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed as he stood up, already grabbing his keys off the table. “You shouldn’t be out there alone. Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.”

“But I’m not alone!” you protested, sounding like a child. “I’m with Miyeon and Yunah! They’re sooooo funny…”

“Stay there,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I’m on my way.”

You didn’t seem to hear him, too busy giggling with Yunah about something that had apparently happened earlier in the evening. Sunghoon didn’t waste any more time. He was out the door and in his car within minutes, the engine roaring to life as he sped through the city streets.

By the time he reached the bar, you were sitting on the curb with Miyeon and Yunah, both of whom were also a little tipsy but still more composed than you. The moment Sunghoon stepped out of his car, your eyes lit up, though you didn’t seem to fully recognize him.

“There he is!” Miyeon said, relief evident in her voice as she waved him over. “She’s all yours, Sunghoon. Good luck.”

Sunghoon couldn’t help but chuckle despite his worry as he approached you. You looked up at him with a lazy grin, your eyes glazed over. “Who’re you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“It’s me, Sunghoon,” he replied, crouching down in front of you. “Let’s get you home.”

You pouted, shaking your head like a stubborn child. “I don’t know you,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m not going anywhere with a stranger.”

Sunghoon sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with you in this state. “Alright, alright,” he said, trying to keep his tone soothing. “But we can’t stay here. How about I take you somewhere safe?”

You squinted at him, clearly trying to decide if you could trust him. After a moment, you seemed to make up your mind and nodded. “Okay… but no funny business, mister!”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his heart doing that funny little flip again. He gently helped you to your feet, slipping an arm around your waist to steady you. “I promise,” he said, leading you toward his car.

The drive was quiet, save for your occasional hiccup or mumble about how the city lights were so pretty. Sunghoon kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

When you arrived at his apartment, Sunghoon helped you out of the car and into the elevator. You leaned heavily against him, clearly exhausted but still stubbornly refusing to give him your address. He figured it was safer to just keep you with him for the night.

His apartment was as sleek and modern as ever, but tonight, it felt different having you there. He led you to the guest bedroom, flicking on the light as he helped you sit on the edge of the bed.

“Here we are,” he said softly, crouching down to help you with your shoes. “You can sleep here tonight.”

You blinked down at him, a smile spreading across your face. “You’re really nice for a stranger,” you slurred, reaching out to pat his head clumsily.

Sunghoon felt his face heat up, and he quickly stood, hoping you wouldn’t notice. “Okay, now go to sleep,” he said, trying to sound firm.

As he tucked you in, pulling the blanket up around you, you suddenly leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. The taste of alcohol lingered on your breath as you pulled back, giggling. “Thank you, stranger,” you murmured, your eyelids drooping heavily.

Sunghoon froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He stared down at you.

“Okay, now go to sleep,” he repeated, this time more to himself than to you as he gently pushed you back onto the pillow.

You were already half asleep, a soft smile on your lips as you mumbled something he couldn't puzzle out. Sunghoon stood there for a moment longer, just watching you.

Finally, he turned off the light and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. As he leaned against the wall outside, he let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair.

He was definitely catching feelings for you, and tonight had only made that fact impossible to ignore. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the simple fact that you were safe, and that was all that mattered.

For now.

YOU WAKE UP WITH A POUNDING HEADACHE. Groaning, you reach up to rub your temples, your eyes still squeezed shut against the harsh morning light filtering through the curtains. When you finally dare to open them, the first thing you see is a glass of water and a single pill on the nightstand next to you.

Grateful, you reach for the water and swallow the pill, hoping it’ll take the edge off your hangover. But as you set the glass back down, something feels… off. You blink a few times, trying to clear the fog from your mind. This didn’t look like your bedroom. Where were you?

You sit up slowly, the blanket sliding off your legs as you take in your surroundings. The room is spacious and sleek, with modern, minimalist decor—a far cry from the cozy clutter of your own place. Panic starts to bubble up in your chest as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, your feet meeting the cool hardwood floor.

You stand, wobbling slightly as the room tilts beneath you. After a moment, you steady yourself and start to walk toward the door. The apartment is eerily quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the city beyond the windows. You weren't kidnapped right?

You wander through the hallway, glancing at the modern art on the walls and the polished furniture that looks like it belongs in a high-end magazine. None of it is familiar. Displays of trophies. Your heart pounds faster as you pass by a living room with a sleek black couch and a glass coffee table, everything impeccably neat. Where are you?

Finally, you reach the kitchen, your breath catching in your throat as you see a tall figure standing by the counter, his back to you. He’s dressed casually, a black t-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, his hair slightly tousled like he’s just woken up. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, mingling with the sharp scent of something else—aftershave, maybe.

He turns around, and your heart skips a beat. Sunghoon.

He glances at you, his expression carefully neutral, though you can see the tension in his posture. “You’re awake,” he says, his voice low and measured, as if he’s trying not to sound too concerned.

You blink, still half-convinced you’re dreaming. “Sunghoon?” you whisper, your voice hoarse from sleep. “What… what happened? I was with Yunah and Miyeon…”

He nods, setting down the mug of coffee he was holding. “You were,” he confirms, his tone calm “But you got drunk, really drunk, and I thought it was best you stay here. You were pretty persistent about not telling me your address.”

You stare at him, your mind struggling to piece together the events of the previous night. Flashes of memory come back—calling him, the bar, the lights of the city, his worried face as he helped you into his car. You groan, slapping a hand to your forehead as it all starts to make sense. “Very smart of you, YN..” you mumble to yourself.

“Okay, fine,” you say, crossing your arms defensively. “But I’m still not happy about being brought here without knowing.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, leaning against the counter again. “I didn’t exactly have many options, you know. You wouldn’t tell me your address.”

You huff, feeling a little defensive. “Maybe if you didn’t look so much like a stranger, I would’ve!”

He smirks, crossing his arms to mirror your stance. “I told you who I was. It’s not my fault you couldn’t recognize me in your drunk state.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the headache making you more irritable than usual. “Well, maybe next time you should have tried harder.”

“Next time?” he echoes, a playful glint in his eyes. “So, you’re planning to get drunk and forget who I am again?”

You roll your eyes, refusing to back down. “That’s not what I meant. I just… you could’ve left me with Yunah and Miyeon, you know.”

Sunghoon’s smirk fades slightly, and his tone becomes more serious. “They were tipsy too, and I wasn’t about to leave you with them in that condition. You were my responsibility after you called me.”

You bite your lip, realizing he has a point but not willing to admit it. “Well, you didn’t have to be so overprotective.”

He sighs, the amusement slipping from his face. “I wasn’t being overprotective. I was being responsible.”

You glare at him, but there’s no real anger behind it, “Fine, whatever. But you could’ve at least woken me up or something when we got here.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “You were barely conscious by the time we got here. I didn’t think you’d appreciate being woken up just so you could argue with me.”

You open your mouth to retort but realize you don’t have a good comeback. Instead, you huff again and look away, your arms still crossed. “You’re so annoying.”

Sunghoon chuckles softly, shaking his head. “And you’re impossible.”

THE EVENING SKY WAS A DEEP SHADE OF BLUE. the grand hall filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of chatter. Your engagement party was a few weeks later than planned, but no less extravagant.

You stood beside Sunghoon, the two of you playing the part of the perfect couple for the night. He looked effortlessly handsome in a tailored black suit. You were dressed in a stunning gown that flowed like water around you.

Sunghoon leaned in close as you both watched your families mingle and enjoy themselves. “Remember,” he said with a teasing smirk, “don’t drink too much tonight. I don’t think I could survive another night like the last time.”

You elbowed him lightly in the ribs, giving him a mock glare. “Very funny. I’ll have you know I’m fully in control tonight.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. “I’m just looking out for you.”

You opened your mouth to retort but were interrupted by the sound of a spoon tapping against a glass. Your father stood at the center of the room, commanding everyone’s attention with his broad smile and booming voice. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “if I could have your attention, please! It’s time for a toast from the happy couple!”

The guests turned toward you and Sunghoon, their eyes bright with expectation. You felt a flutter of nerves as you stepped forward, taking the microphone that was handed to you. Sunghoon stood beside you, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back—a gesture that felt more practiced than genuine.

You took a deep breath and smiled warmly at the crowd. “Thank you all for being here tonight,” you began, “It means the world to us to have our families and closest friends gathered together to celebrate this special occasion. We couldn’t be happier to share this moment with all of you.”

Sunghoon took the microphone next, his voice smooth and confident as he added, “We’re truly grateful for all the love and support we’ve received. We promise to make the most of this journey together, no matter what the future holds.”

There was a round of applause, followed by the clinking of glasses as everyone raised their drinks in a toast. You exchanged a smile with Sunghoon, relieved that the speech was over, but the evening wasn’t done with its surprises yet.

From somewhere in the crowd, a voice called out, “Give her a kiss!” It started as a playful suggestion, but soon others joined in, chanting and encouraging Sunghoon to kiss you.

Sunghoon chuckled nervously, his usual composed expression faltering slightly. “Oh,” he said, turning to you with a hesitant smile. He took your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. “There.”

The crowd groaned in playful disapproval, with some guests booing and others laughing at the display. Your father, always the life of the party, wasn’t about to let it slide. “Come on, Sunghoon! On the lips!”

You froze, feeling the blood drain from your face as the room buzzed with anticipation. Sunghoon looked just as caught off guard, his eyes widening slightly before he forced a smile back onto his face. “Uh, okay…,” he mumbled, clearly out of his depth.

Sunghoon turned back to you, his eyes searching yours for a moment as if silently asking for permission. You gave him a small nod, your heart racing as he leaned in closer. All you could focus on was the feel of his breath against your lips, the scent of his cologne mingling with the faint traces of champagne.

Then, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours. It was over before it even began, a brief touch that was more awkward than anything, leaving you both standing there, trying to play it off with polite smiles as the guests erupted into cheers and applause.

But just as you thought the moment had passed, your grandmother’s voice cut through the noise “Y/N! Give him a real kiss!”

Laughter rippled through the room, and you felt your heart sink. This was not part of the plan. You turned to Sunghoon, your eyes wide with a mix of panic and disbelief. He looked just as flustered, his normally calm expression cracking under the pressure.

“Haha…,” you laughed awkwardly, glancing around the room for an escape, but there was none. The guests were all watching, eagerly awaiting the show they’d been promised.

With no other choice, you forced yourself to smile and faced Sunghoon again. “Well…,” you began, trying to sound lighthearted even though your pulse was racing. “Here goes nothing.”

You leaned in, your lips meeting his once more, but this time, there was no hesitation. The kiss was slow, lingering longer than the last. Sunghoon stiffened at first, clearly taken aback by your sudden compliance, but then something shifted. You felt it in the way his hand instinctively came to rest on your waist, pulling you just a little closer as he relaxed into the kiss.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it was over. Sunghoon pulled back, his eyes searching yours with an expression you couldn’t quite read. He looked almost shocked, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. But he quickly masked it with a smile, a little forced, but enough to appease the crowd.

The guests erupted into applause, their cheers and laughter filling the room as you blinked.

As the celebration continued around you, your gaze caught on a familiar face in the crowd. Youngdae. He was standing off to the side, his eyes narrowed as he watched the two of you. There was something in his expression—something smug, knowing. It sent a chill down your spine.

THE MORNING WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE ANY OTHER—calm, uneventful. You were scrolling through your phone, sipping on your coffee, when a notification caught your eye. At first, you thought it was just another article about the engagement, another gossip piece speculating about your relationship with Sunghoon. But the headline stopped you cold.

“Sunghoon and Y/N’s Relationship is All Fake and Scripted.”

You felt your heart drop into your stomach, the words blurring in front of your eyes. Panic surged through you as you clicked on the link, your mind racing. How did they find out? Who could have known? As the article loaded, your breath caught in your throat when you saw the author’s name.

Youngdae.

You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as the reality of it set in. Of course, it was him. You should’ve known he was up to something, but you had been too distracted.

As you read through the article, each line felt like a slap to the face. He had all the details—the fake marriage, the carefully staged moments, even the reasons behind it all. It was as if he had been there, watching every step of the way, waiting for the perfect moment to expose the truth.

Your hands trembled as you scrolled through the comments, each one more vicious than the last. People were calling you a liar, accusing you of playing with their emotions for publicity. The overwhelming wave of hatred and disappointment made you feel sick.

It was all true. Every word of it. The relationship was fake. You knew that from the start, but seeing it laid out like this—so cold, so calculated—made it feel real in a way that shook you to your core.

You set your phone down, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. The buzz of your phone pulled you out of your daze—numerous missed calls from your parents, texts asking you to explain, to do damage control. But you ignored them. Right now, you couldn’t face them. There was only one person you needed to talk to.

Sunghoon.

THE ROAR OF THE ENGINES FILLED THE AIR the scent of burning rubber and gasoline lingering as you stood by the bleachers, watching the cars speed around the track. It felt like déjà vu, standing here again, in the same spot where you first met Sunghoon. Back then, you had watched him win with ease, his car a blur as he crossed the finish line in first place. Today, you found yourself here again, but everything felt different—heavier, uncertain.

As the race continued, your eyes were locked on Sunghoon’s car. You had come here to support him, to clear your mind and maybe, just maybe, find a way to fix everything. But when his car zoomed past, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes briefly met yours, a flash of recognition in his gaze, but then he looked away, ignoring you completely. A cold wave of dread washed over you.

The race was intense, but something was wrong. Sunghoon wasn’t leading like he usually did. For the first time, you watched as he struggled to maintain his position, falling into second place. It was subtle, but you could see the frustration in his driving, the slight hesitations that weren’t characteristic of him. When he finally crossed the finish line, there was no victory in his expression—only a bitter disappointment.

You didn’t waste any time, rushing down the bleachers, making sure to keep your face covered so no one would recognize you. You had to talk to him, had to find out what was going on. As you made your way to the pit area, your heart pounded in your chest, each step feeling heavier than the last.

You found him near his car, his back turned to you as he spoke with his team. He looked different—tense, his shoulders hunched with frustration. When he finally noticed you, his expression hardened, the coldness in his eyes hitting you like a punch to the gut.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, his voice laced with bitterness.

You froze, taken aback by the harshness in his tone. “I… I just wanted to talk,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

“Talk about what?” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Us?”

“Yes,” you whispered, feeling a knot form in your throat. “About us.”

Sunghoon let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “There is no ‘us,’ Y/N. It’s over, isn’t it? They know, we know—it’s over.”

His words stung, each one like a dagger to your heart. You opened your mouth to protest, to explain, but nothing came out. He scoffed at your silence, his eyes narrowing in anger. Your eyes dart to his bruised knuckles but you don't ask.

“Sunghoon, please,” you tried again, your voice breaking. “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

“Why?” he echoed, his voice rising in frustration. “Because this is the reason I got second place! Because I couldn’t focus, because all I could think about was this mess we’re in!”

You felt a sharp pang of guilt, the weight of his words sinking in. “Sunghoon, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Enough!” he cut you off, his voice firm and unyielding. “Just forget it, okay? We don’t know each other. It’s better that way.”

You stood there, speechless, as he turned away from you, his figure retreating into the crowd. 

(EARLIER, FLASHBACK)

PARK SUNGHOON STOOD NEAR HIS CAR, focused and mentally preparing himself for the race. But something was different today, a tension in the atmosphere that he couldn’t quite place.

As he made his way towards the pit lane, his eyes caught sight of a figure approaching. It was a young man, tall and lean, with a smug expression plastered across his face. Sunghoon squinted, trying to place the familiarity of the stranger. The man walked with an air of arrogance.

“Who are you?” Sunghoon asked, his voice cold and clipped, betraying the irritation that was beginning to simmer beneath the surface.

The man stopped in front of him, tilting his head slightly as if considering the question. “Youngdae,” he replied, his tone dripping with mockery. “I’m YN’s ‘close’ friend.”

The words hung in the air, the taunting lilt in Youngdae’s voice making Sunghoon’s stomach churn. His mind raced, trying to recall where he had seen this guy before. And then it clicked. The engagement party. Yunjin’s and…your engagement party. Sunghoon’s jaw tightened at the memory.

“And?” Sunghoon demanded, his voice now laced with suspicion. “What do you want?”

Youngdae smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he was having. “Oh, I just wanted to let you know,” he started, his tone nonchalant, “that I know everything. And YN… she’s been doing all of this for me. She told me she liked me.”

Sunghoon’s world tilted at those words. His heart stuttered in his chest, “What?” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make it true.

Youngdae’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Yeah, she’s been playing you, Sunghoon,” he continued, his voice taunting. “The whole marriage thing? It was just a way for her to escape, to protect me. She’s mine.”

Sunghoon’s blood boiled, his vision narrowing on the man in front of him. Lies. They had to be lies. But the seed of doubt had been planted, twisting and turning in his mind. “Oh really?” Sunghoon muttered, his voice low, dangerous.

Youngdae barely had time to react before Sunghoon’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. Youngdae straightened, wiping the blood from his lip, his smirk only widening.

“Touched a nerve, did I?” Youngdae sneered, stepping forward as if ready for more.

Sunghoon didn’t wait. Another punch.

Finally, with one last kick, Sunghoon sent Youngdae sprawling to the ground, breathing heavily, chest heaving. He stood over the other man, fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles bruised and bloody. But the pain in his hands was nothing compared to the ache in his chest.

“Congratulations,” Sunghoon spat, his voice thick with emotion. “You got yourself a girlfriend.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Youngdae on the ground. Was it true? Had everything between you been a lie?

IT HAD BEEN A WEEK SINCE THE WORLD YOU CAREFULLY CONSTRUCTED CAME CRASHING DOWN. The memories of that awful day played on a loop in your mind, leaving you exhausted and drained. You spent countless hours crying, the weight of Sunghoon’s words crushing you. Miyeon and Yunah sat by your side, their attempts to comfort you. They tried everything—funny stories, your favorite movies, even bringing you your favorite snacks—but nothing seemed to help.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon was a mess of his own. The usually confident and composed Formula 1 driver was now a stressed for the past week etched deeply into his features. He had barely slept, and when he did, his dreams were haunted by images of you—your smile, your laugh, and the pain in your eyes when he had turned his back on you. He didn’t want to think about it, but it was all he could think about.

He was sitting with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. Heeseung glanced at Sunghoon, noticing the way his friend had been uncharacteristically quiet, his gaze unfocused as he stared off in the distance. Heeseung finally broke the silence, his tone cautious, “So… you ended things with YN?”

Sunghoon let out a long, heavy sigh, his hand running through his hair in frustration. “Yeah,” he muttered, the word filled with regret. “She was just using me to get some guy named Youngdae.”

Jake raised an eyebrow at that, his skepticism clear. “Her? Use you?” There was disbelief in his voice, as if the idea itself was absurd.

Jay, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up with a frown. “Did you not read the article?” he asked, his tone serious. “The author is Youngdae. He’s the one who exposed your fake relationship or whatever.”

Sunghoon blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in. “What?” he muttered, confusion lacing his voice. He straightened in his seat, pulling out his phone with shaky hands. His fingers fumbled as he searched for the article, the one he had tried so hard to avoid reading because he thought he already knew the truth.

When the article loaded on his screen, he read it carefully, his eyes scanning every word, every sentence. As the pieces started to fall into place, his heart began to race. The tone of the article, the subtle jabs at both you and him, the not-so-subtle gloating—everything screamed of someone with a personal vendetta. Youngdae. The man who had approached him before the race, taunting him, planting seeds of doubt in his mind. Sunghoon’s eyes widened as realization hit him like a freight train.

“It was all a lie,” he whispered to himself. He looked up at his friends, his expression one of dawning horror. “She wasn’t using me. Youngdae set the whole thing up.”

Heeseung, Jay, and Jake watched as the realization washed over Sunghoon, each of them exchanging worried glances. “Yeah, it looks like that asshole was trying to mess with you both,” Jay said, his voice calm but firm.

Sunghoon’s thoughts were a whirlwind as he pieced everything together. The way Youngdae had approached him, the lies he’d told, the article designed to twist the truth and drive a wedge between you two. How could he have been so blind?

“Shoot,” Sunghoon cursed under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. “I need to talk to her.”

YOU SIGHED, tugging at the sleeves of your jacket as you followed Yunah and Miyeon through the bustling crowd. The roar of excited fans and the distant rumble of engines filled the air, a constant reminder of where you were—somewhere you hadn’t wanted to be. Yunah had practically dragged you here, insisting that Sunghoon wouldn’t be part of the lineup today. “Just come along for the fun,” she had said. “It’ll be a good distraction.” And you had reluctantly agreed.

But as you found your seat and the contestants started to make their way onto the track, your heart nearly stopped. There he was. Sunghoon, as he strode confidently towards his car, the cheers of the crowd rising in volume.

“You lied, Yunah,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at your friend.

Yunah winced, offering you a sheepish smile. “Oops. Guess I got that wrong.”

Miyeon chuckled, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Well, you’re not leaving now. We paid for these tickets!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to push down the pain that had been gnawing at you for days. It wasn’t easy seeing him after everything, the memories of your last encounter still fresh and raw. But you couldn’t deny the way your heart skipped a beat when his eyes met yours. For a fleeting moment, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but you couldn’t bring yourself to return it, instead looking away quickly, focusing on the crowd.

The race was intense, the final race of the season. whoever won this race would be crowned the champion. Your eyes followed Sunghoon’s car as it sped around the track. You could feel your chest tightening with each passing lap, the anticipation building as he edged closer to victory.

And then, in a blur of speed and adrenaline, Sunghoon crossed the finish line first. The crowd erupted in cheers, the energy electric as the realization set in—he had won. Again.

Sunghoon stepped out of his car, triumphant, the smile on his face broad and genuine as he accepted his trophy. But then, to your surprise, he grabbed the microphone, his voice booming through the speakers.

“This is my fourth year being the champion of this season,” he began, his tone proud but also tinged with something else—something softer. “Thank you, everyone, for your support. It means the world to me.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, hoping the moment would pass quickly, but then his words took an unexpected turn.

“And to those who don’t think YN and I are together… we are,” Sunghoon continued, his eyes searching the crowd until they found you. Your breath hitched as he held your gaze. “And I love her. I truly do. I think it’s the way she laughs or smiles. It’s just the way she gives me butterflies. A composure I can’t hold when she’s with me.”

Your eyes widened, confusion and shock swirling in your mind. What was he doing? Was this some kind of joke? But his expression was serious, sincere, and there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I’m sorry, YN,” he said through the mic, the words raw and honest. Before you could process what was happening, you felt hands on your back—Yunah and Miyeon were pushing you out of your seat, urging you forward.

“Go on!” Yunah whispered excitedly, while Miyeon giggled beside her.

You were practically shoved onto the track, and suddenly, you were standing in front of Sunghoon. The world seemed to blur around you, the noise of the crowd fading into the background as all you could focus on was him—just him.

Sunghoon’s eyes softened as he looked at you, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He stepped closer, lowering the mic, his voice now just for you. “YN, I’m sorry for everything. For just leaving you with no explanation. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I almost lost you because of it. But I swear, that’s never going to happen again.” You stared at him, confusion on your face.

“ I pieced it all together, and I realized how wrong I was. I was stupid, and I’m so sorry. But I love you, YN. I love you more than I can put into words. And I want us to be official, for real this time.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions washing over you. It felt surreal, like a dream you were afraid to wake up from. “Actually?” you whispered, needing to hear it again, needing to know this was real.

“Actually,” Sunghoon confirmed, a small, hopeful smile on his lips.

A smile slowly crept onto your face as you felt the last of your doubts melt away. “Well… I love you too,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

And then, before you could say another word, Sunghoon leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. His hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as his lips moved against yours.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Sunghoon’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know,” he began, his voice teasing, “when you were drunk a few weeks ago, you kissed me on the lips.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you asked.

“I was just waiting for this moment,” he replied with a grin, pulling you into another kiss as the crowd cheered around you, their applause now a distant echo.

THE CITY WAS ALIVE WITH A SOFT GLOW. Sunghoon drove through the city. You sat beside him, your hand resting comfortably on his as the cool night air streamed in through the open window, brushing against your skin and sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

The world outside was quiet, peaceful, a perfect contrast to the whirlwind of excitement that had surrounded you both ever since the news broke. Everyone knew now—about the engagement, the wedding plans, the future that was waiting for you both just around the corner.

Sunghoon glanced over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he admired the way the moonlight highlighted your features, making you look even more ethereal.

At every green light, he would lean over, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. His lips were soft, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter, before he would pull away with a grin, only to repeat the sweet gesture at the next light.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?” he murmured, his voice low as his fingers intertwined with yours, giving your hand a light squeeze.

You smiled, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you looked over at him. “You always say that,” you teased, but the warmth in your voice showed how much you loved hearing it.

“It’s because it’s true,” he replied softly, leaning in for another kiss as the light turned green. This time, the kiss lingered a little longer, his lips moving tenderly against yours.

When he pulled back, a grin on his face that matched your own. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he whispered.

“Me neither,” you whispered back, leaning in for one more kiss.

[absurdthirst]

Fucking Fungus {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN, dub con, post apocalyptic world, scavenging, guilt, shame, desire, Joel having a bad attitude, mentions of periods, rough sex, neediness, unprotected sex, cream pie

Comments: Coming across Wymore, NE, you hoped to find some much needed supplies for the coming winter but you find that the fungus has mutated in dangerous and frightening ways. Needing to insure that there are more hosts to infect in a very basic kind of way.

🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉Happy Birthday @storiesofthefandomlovers!!!! I love you and hope you have the best damn day! In thotty tradition, here is a sex pollen to celebrate another year around the sun!🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The world has changed in the past twenty years. None of it for the betterment of humanity. The crunch of the dried leaves grinds under your boots and your head rotates left and then right as you watch, listen. Waiting for any sign of life or more importantly, danger. The weight of your rifle is heavy in your hands, although you hold it down, unassuming but ready to be lifted at a second’s notice. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just hook it over your shoulder.” Ellie snorts, her backpack bouncing slightly on her back from the steps that seem so unencumbered by worry. Why should she worry when there are two fully armed adults on either side of her. Her own personal guard in a manner of speaking. “There hasn’t been anything out here for daaaaaays.” She drags the word out like it's the most horrible thing in the world that it’s been peaceful. 

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes as you glance over at him and then look back out at the surrounding terrain. “Yeah, that’s why we are on guard.” He grunts, even though his own rifle is on his shoulder. His hand gripped the shoulder sling loosely but he had only just put it up there half an hour ago after you had taken your turn relaxing as much as you can. “it’s too fucking quiet.” 

He’s right. After the disasters that had been Kansas City, you had tried to avoid major cities, but even in the small towns, you had come across plenty of cordyceps and clickers. You hate the clickers with a passion.

The isolation can account for a lot of the silence. Miles stretching between remnants of civilization. The crumbling buildings and overgrown roads give the entire midwest a sense of peace. It’s unnerving. 

Your grip adjusts, head rolling around your shoulders slightly to try to loosen the knot that builds up in your shoulders after so long. The weight of your pack isn’t as heavy as it should be, the rations not exactly filling since you had to escape that one clicker in Du Bois, Nebraska. Your pack had been ripped and most of the food you had been carrying was lost. 

You glance over at Joel, noticing the way his shoulders seem to hang, almost a reflection of the way you feel. “We need to risk a larger town.” You murmur quietly, knowing that his first instinct will be to argue with you. You stumble slightly over a rock and hiss when you feel the hole in the sole of your boots. 

“Too dangerous.” Joel snorts, shaking his head even as he watches you regain your footing. “I’ve got some duct tape in my bag.” He reminds you, knowing that you should probably reinforce that shoe before you lose the sole all together. 

“It’s not just shoes.” You protest, trying to ignore the way that Ellie groans obnoxiously loud and stomps her foot. 

“Come on, man!” She throws her own arguments into the ring. “I need tampons! We could find them if there was jack shit out here, but there’s not. Do you want me to attract wild animals?” She presses, glaring at Joel who looks equal parts horrified and unconvinced. She cracks an evil grin. “Circling us in the wild as I just leave behind a trail of blood? Aaaaand tears.” She adds, lifting her brows. “Periods are really emotional things.” 

Biting your lip to keep from snorting, you watch as Joel; normally stoic, no bullshit Joel, can’t seem to string together the words to respond. His eyes slide over to you, almost pleading with you to say something. 

Your brows lift in question and he twitches slightly, his dark eyes unhappy with you not immediately jumping in to save him. “We could use the food if we can find any.” You rationalize, smirking when his brows pinch together and he looks like he had just been betrayed. 

“Clean underwear!” Ellie adds. “Or….cleaner. And a heavier fucking coat.” She shivers slightly and you can see that is the moment when Joel caves. He acts like a prick most of the time, but he’s got a soft spot for the kid. He won’t admit, maybe not even to himself, but he looks over at the faded and nearly rusted out sign. 

You continue walking, not pressing any more and you can hear the grumbling thoughts that are rolling through Joel’s mind. The now half hearted protests about why this is such a bad idea but you wait for the sigh. 

Almost even with the sign is when it comes, heavy and it sounds almost pained. Like he is going against everything he believes in. “Stop.” He huffs, shuffling to pull his bag off his back and kneeling down with a groan and the small pops of fifty plus year old knees. Unzipping the pocket where he keeps the Atlas and flips the worn pages to Nebraska. Glancing back at the road behind you and then at the sign before looking at the map. Tracing the route that you had already traveled before looking ahead at the towns that were on highway 77. 

Ellie doesn’t say a word but she practically bounces on her toes as she waits for his decision. You know that he’s going to agree, it’s just a matter of which town he chooses. He knows the truth of the situation. Winter is going to come quicker than any of you want, your food supply is low, you could probably all use a new set of boots, and all of you would kill for a halfway decent musty mattress to sleep on. Four walls and a hopefully non-leaking roof over your heads would be the icing on the cake. 

“Wymore is coming up in fifty-eight miles.” He taps the map and looks up at you to see what you think. 

Ellie shuffles slightly and instead of grinning, you crane your neck to look at the map yourself. “It looks like it’s bigger than the last few towns, but at least it’s not like we are running into Lincoln.” You hum before you nod. “I say we try.”

“Yessssss!” The teenager pumps her fist in excitement and she grins when Joel rolls his eyes. You’ve noticed that like any normal teenager, her favorite activity is annoying any kind of parental unit and pushing boundaries. This applies to Joel whether or not he likes it. “I want to find another joke book too.” 

Joel groans but you just turn around, grinning yourself as Joel mumbles under his breath, stuffing the map back in his pack and zipping it up. Joel and Ellie are alike in a lot of ways, especially their penchant for mumbling. 

You resist the urge to offer him a hand up, knowing he will be even more pissy if you do. For someone who complains about being older, he gets downright grouchy when he’s reminded of that same fact. “Well then, the quicker we get there, the quicker we don’t have to hear ‘are we there yet?’.” You snort, making Ellie grin shamelessly as she shrugs, knowing she will do exactly that. 

“So let’s get going.” She doesn’t wait for anyone, just setting off down the road and leaving the two of you to catch up with her. 

****

It takes you nearly three days to get to Wymore. All of you are tired, but Joel is the one who barely sleeps, even when you force him to lay down. It’s as if he cannot stop trying to protect Ellie, and also you, long enough for him to rest. He gets upset when he has to sleep, staying up until he is nodding off. The coffee supply has been exhausted and it’s probably a good thing. He would drink it all day to the point where his hands would shake from too much caffeine. Still he just wouldn’t trust you to make sure that no one snuck up on you for a few hours until he was past the point of being useless. 

The first signs of the town are a welcomed relief but it’s also an added source of tension. Each mile that you had traveled had added to the fear that this might be the time that you fail. That something goes wrong and someone else dies. The road here has not been easy and the losses have weighed heavily on all of you. Joel still won’t even mention Tess and you hate it when you wake up in the early morning hours to find him staring down at the broken face of his watch with a look that breaks your heart. 

Every approach into a new area can mean danger, either from the clickers or from humans and honestly you don’t know which one you fear more. Your gun is back in your hand, the weight of it familiar and comforting as you pass the first gas station, the windows busted out and dried fungus clinging to the building. 

“Fuck.” You hiss, uneasy at the presence of the fungal vines, even if they look like they aren’t active.

“I wonder why it looks pink.” Ellie frowns as she squints at the building. “It’s usually an ugly brown color, right?” She looks towards Joel for confirmation, but he’s busy frowning at the building himself. 

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” If the cordyceps have spread this far out of town then there’s a possibility there are still active branches closer to the supplies that you are looking for. 

“Come on man.” Ellie groans, kicking a dirt clod. “There’s nothing for miles. It’s probably all dead.” 

You know that Ellie is probably right, but it’s a risk. You bite your lip, looking over at Joel. “Why don’t we sweep the town and we can see?” You ask, knowing that if everything is dead, you could desperately use the rest. Cordyceps rarely return en masse when the vines have withered and died. It could be a safe place to recharge and for Joel to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time. 

You’ve stopped walking as you talk, Joel looking around as he contemplates your alternatives. To be honest, there aren’t many and both of you know it. Not without a lot of backtracking which none of you want to do. 

Joel sighs and you know that he’s going to agree. He turns to Ellie. “Don’t fucking touch anything until we say it’s alright.” He points at her for good measure, as if his finger would impress the importance of his words. “Got it?” 

“Got it.” She huffs. “Jesus, you act like we haven’t done this before.” You roll your eyes and look away, knowing you shouldn’t encourage her right now. 

It takes hours to make your way into the center of town. Not because you are blocked by clickers or avoiding humans, it’s because you are stocking up. It’s like the fungus took over this town and just let it rot. Nothing inside the first few blocks of town is disturbed. No looting has been done here, plenty of supplies to be had. 

Both you and Joel have been cautious but slowly optimistic as you’ve found boots and heavy jackets, gloves and hats. A new pair of clothes have been rolled into everyone’s bags and you’ve even grabbed another pack to fill with the mylar sealed packs of camping food from the sporting goods store. It was a miracle that nothing had been ransacked, but it makes you wonder exactly what the fuck happened here. Did the army sweep through and round up all the residents right away? It would make sense, but then why were there dead spores of the fungus here? You haven’t seen one body so far and it makes you nervous. 

“This place is a fucking gold mine.” Ellie grins like a kid in a candy store, perhaps because you’ve actually found candy and she has been sucking on the jolly ranchers until the top of her mouth is raw. “Now we just need to find a place to sleep. I want my own room.” 

Glancing over at Joel, you expect him to immediately tell her no, but he doesn’t say a word. Continuing to look around like he is expecting a clicker to pop out from the doorway of the local McDonald’s, now completely covered in that strange pink fungus. It’s like he doesn’t even hear her as he frowns at the building. 

She takes that as approval and immediately starts talking about how she’s going to spread out. Making you snort when she talks about sitting in her underwear for an hour. There hasn’t been a lot of privacy out here on the road, so you can understand that desire. 

“Joel.” You murmur his name softly, knowing that the best thing you can do is to find the motel and get settled down for the night before the sun sets. Even if this town is as safe as it appears on the surface, you would rather not be fumbling around in the dark . He doesn’t look over at you, still staring at the overgrown building as if it’s holding the secret. Maybe it reminds him of the Boston Museum, ominously covered with the tentacles of the fungus and the horrors that you had found inside it. “Joel!”

“What?” His head whips around, body tense as he’s ripped out of his thoughts. Relaxing when he finds you and Ellie staring at him. “We need to find the motel.” You remind him, nodding towards the sun getting lower in the sky. “I think we could all use a good night’s sleep.” 

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes searing your face, looking for some hidden meaning beneath your words before he glances over at an eager Ellie. “Yeah, sure.” He agrees, adjusting his rifle to sling it onto his shoulder and adjusts his now much heavier pack on his back. “Probably on the other side of the main drag.” 

His new boots thump against the cracked pavement. The roads leading deeper into the town is the guide towards what will hopefully be a comfortable bed and at least eight hours of sleep. 

Your own new boots feel pretty good, but maybe a day or so here, going through supplies and really making sure that you can take on the coming winter would be a good thing. Allowing you to break in the shoes without blisters. You’ll have to talk about it with Joel after Ellie sequesters herself for the night. 

It’s about another fifteen minutes before you get to the small motel that looks like it will be a good place to spend the night. Half the building is covered in another large cluster of the fungus, the pink hue looking particularly bright in the fading sun. 

“We’ll get some keys.” It will be better than breaking down doors, especially since the motel wasn’t equipped with the keycards that the high end hotels had started switching to before society came crashing down. 

The bad news is that the motel doesn’t have any adjoining rooms, so Joel and Ellie get into a small spat about her having her own room, Ellie eventually winning after promising that she will block the door with a dresser and he’s allowed to sweep the room before she locks herself in. Half the building is so overtaken by the vivid pink fungus that you swear looks like a big splat of bubblegum thrown over the walls. 

She doesn’t even want to have dinner with you and Joel, making the man go through the room and then telling you both goodnight and shutting the door in your face. Making you laugh as Joel frowns at the door, rethinking this entire situation. 

“Well, you can have a room to yourself too.” You offer, smirking as he cuts his eyes towards you. You know that Joel would rather everyone sleep where he can keep his eyes on them, so you getting privacy is off the table. 

“Shut up.” Joel grunts, walking down towards the next room and kicking it open, watchful even though you’ve both already been in the room and deposited your bags. It’s a nice room, two double beds so each one of you can stretch out and relax. 

You laugh quietly and decide to walk down the railing towards the portion of the building that has been overtaken by the fungus. Your curiosity about this variant is finally getting the best of you and you want to get a better look at it. 

It’s thick. The tendril that is draped over the metal railing of the second floor, wrapping around it and up the support column. You bite your lip, tilting your head when you see the withered remnants of some kind of flower. What kind of fungus sprouts flowers?

You jump when something touches your back, whirling around to find Joel behind you, holding his hands up. He smirks at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Fuck you.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes and he huffs. “What are you doing?” He asks. 

Turning back towards the fungus, you sigh. “This is different from any other kind I’ve ever seen.” You comment, stepping closer to it only to feel Joel reach for your arm to pull you back. “It’s dried out.” You remind him, jerking your head towards the husk of the cordyceps. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” You know that he spent a lot of time sneaking out of the Boston QZ, it’s possible he had seen it before. 

He grunts, relaxing his hold on you and he shuffles slightly closer, looking at the flower buds that extend from the tendrils. His own suspicions about anything fungus related is deep, but it’s dried. “I haven’t.” He admits after a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly and trying to think if there is any reason why this pink coloring has the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

“So it’s something new.” You bite your lip and lean in, feeling the disapproval radiate off of Joel in hot waves but you ignore him. Tilting your head and reaching out to touch one of the dried flowers. 

“Don’t-”

The second your finger touches the wilted bloom, it bursts open, spurting you and Joel behind you in a cloud of pink dust. You gasp, holding your breath but there’s no hope for not inhaling the pollen. 

“Fuck!” Joel coughs, shaking his head and backing up so quickly he hits the side of the building and reaches out to drag you away from the lingering cloud of dust and starts to practically beat it off the two of you. “We need- we need-” He leans over and starts coughing, obviously having inhaled just as much of it as you had. 

“We’re okay.” You gasp, shaking your head and brushing the dust off your clothes. “We- it’s dead. Right?” You hate that you are asking that, but you hadn’t expected that from a dried out fungus.

“It- we should clean up.” Joel blinks, the pollen making his eyes itch and that has to be the cause of the rush of heat that slides over him. It’s just adrenaline. Fear. Anything that would scare both of you would make the slight nip in the air disappear and make you feel like your skin is superheated.

The water is gravity fed. The large cisterns on the roof are still full and while it’s not warm, perhaps a cold shower might be better right now. Joel drags you both to the room and locks the door, although he doesn’t push a dresser in front of it in case Ellie needs you in the night. 

In the bathroom, you are shaking as you start to strip down, worrying about how stupid you just were and if you completely fucked yourself. The anxious fear covering the way your skin seems to burn and feel so sensitive to everything. Shuddering when your hand brushes over your thigh as you push your jeans down and kick them off before you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. 

Clean up. Get the pollen off your skin and cool down. Your body seems to be working on overdrive. Your nipple hard under the cold water and instead of gasping in shock, you moan softly. Enjoying the sensation and reaching for the bar of soap that is still wrapped in plastic. 

Hurry up, hurry up. Joel paces around the room, his hands curled into fists. Practically sweating even though the air is cool as the sun sets. His body feels like it’s on fire, like he is battling a sickness. 

Over and over again, he goes through the symptoms of the infection of the cordyceps, there’s no veining, he’s stopped and checked his eyes and reflection in the peeling mirror about twenty times in the five minutes you’ve been in the bathroom. And he doesn’t fucking think the fungus makes his cock harder than a fucking rock in his jeans. 

He’s not thought about sex in months. Nothing beyond fleeting moments of attraction to you that he swiftly buries under guilt and responsibility. Normally, it is when you’re bent over and your ass is presented to him in such a way that he thinks about sinking into you from behind, or when your shirt pulls tight over your breasts and he imagines cupping them in his hands as you sit on his cock. Immediately dismissed and ignored as he reminds himself of how he had failed Tess, he doesn’t deserve to find warmth and comfort in your arms. 

Now, it’s all he can think about. The urge to palm his cock makes his fingers twitch and he almost moves his hand over his crotch before he flinches back to reality and tries to examine his face in the mirror again, wondering if his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep or if he is infected. 

Scrubbing your body is nearly painful, wanting to stop and touch yourself, but you can’t. You need to get this done and get out so Joel can shower. Still, despite the cold water, you feel like you are on fire when you shut off the water and realize that you didn’t bring your bag into the bathroom. You will have to go out there in nothing because you can’t put those clothes back on. Not until they have been washed. 

Moderately dry, you hear Joel bang on the door. “Hurry up.” He growls, making you clench your thighs together at the raspy tone and hating how it spears through you. You know Joel isn’t interested in you, hasn’t ever looked at you like that and the crush that you had on the man had been buried deep. 

“I’m done.” You don’t have a chance to be embarrassed as you open the door and Joel practically shoves past you into the bathroom and slams it behind him. “Fuck.” Your annoyance cools the heat for a moment, but it’s only temporary. 

The water is icy, but still, Joel curls his hands into fists against the shower wall. He’s fucking hard. Harder than he had probably ever been in his entire life, even when he was a horny teenager and would have fucked anyone who let him between their thighs. He’s not felt like this ever. The need to touch himself builds to the point where his hips are rocking into thin air against the spray of the water. Want clawing up his throat and pooling in his stomach in a heavy knot. 

You don’t dress, you can’t. Crawling under the covers of one of the beds, you listen to Joel groan in the bathroom, it’s muted over the sound of the shower but it’s sexy. All of his sounds are sexy, from the low grunts he gives when he’s stiff and sore, to the huffs and groans of annoyance. It’s all sexy to you. The rasp of his voice when he’s not spoken for a few hours. 

Closing your eyes, it’s easy to give in, to let your hands drift over your skin. He’s not here, you can take care of this frantic need that is swirling inside you. You just need to slide your hand between your thighs and ease it. It wouldn’t take much more than a few swipes of your fingers against your pulsing and aching clit. 

Trying to fight it, you concentrate on your breathing, in and out. Inhaling slowly and holding it so you can exhale when the burn in your lungs tells you that you’ve reached your limit. It helps, but not much. Not when you’re imagining Joel in his shower. Touching him. Being free to touch him and having his hands on your body in return. 

Your hands slip over your breasts, squeezing them hard enough to moan softly and your legs shift to press together. Clenching around nothing and wishing that you were full while your hands start to move down over your stomach. 

The first touch is almost a relief, your entire core quivering as your fingers press against your clit. It’s overwhelming and not enough. You need more, fingertips pressing and rubbing around the puffed up bundle of nerves. You’re already soaked and can feel it dripping down your slit. 

Spurred on by that insatiable need, you slide your fingers around your entrance and start to press them inside. Biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Imagining that it’s more, that it’s a cock that is starting to break you open and fill that void that is aching. 

You are so caught up in the bliss of that first stretch of your fingers that you don’t hear the shower turn off. The quiet curses coming from the bathroom are muffled by the rush of blood in your ears, the feeling of relief coursing through your nerves and taking over. You don’t hear the click of the lock and the turn of the handle. The door opening doesn't even register as you plant your heels on the bed and push your hips up, needing to get your fingers deeper, not quite reaching the spot inside you that craves fullness. 

You don’t hear him until he chokes out a sound that is pained and low, like he’s injured. Your eyes pop open as you lurch up off the bed, your fingers ripping themselves out of your cunt hard enough to make you whimper. Fixed on Joel’s towel draped body, tented over his waist. 

“Joel, I-” “Fuuuuuck.” He growls, his eyes closing and his hands bunches into fists, one holding his towel and the other by his side. “I’ve tried to not think about you, about touching you.” His words are rasped out, strained against his vocal cords. “I’ve goddamn beat into my brain that you aren’t to be thought about this way and now, I can’t stop.” His stomach clenches and his body twitches as he struggles to keep still. 

Your chest heaves and you see his eyes drop down to your uncovered tits. His jaw clenching and his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. “I - I need to touch myself.” You admit breathlessly. “I - it hurts so bad and I need something inside me.” 

Joel groans again, shuddering so violently that you can see him shake from where you are. “I’ve jerked off in the shower twice and it's still hard.” He drops the towel, revealing his hard and leaking cock, making you whimper at the sight and clench around nothing. “I think that- that we- that the flower-” “I don’t care.” You moan, shaking your head and crawling to your knees and shuffling forward. Showing him all of you and so goddamn desperate to touch him that you think you are about to explode. “Touch me, Joel. Fuck, touch me, please.” You beg, your hands on your own body. “We-” He shakes his head and his face changes, morphs into pain.

“Fuck me.” You hiss, watching as his resolve breaks. His cock bounces as he lunges for you, hard and swift, driving you back to the bed with a bounce. Almost as if he is attacking you. 

He’s not gentle. His mouth finding yours in a harsh kiss, your permission unleashing the coils of restraint that he had tried to put on himself. His grip bruises as he hauls you up the bed and settles between your thighs. 

You’ve always attributed Joel with rough gentleness. The type of man who would make you ache and then hold you close. Groaning in pleasure when you find out that is exactly what Joel Miller is like. His hands spreading your thighs with a desperation that proves he is just as afflicted by this fungal pollen as you are. His cock hard and pressing against your folds as he rocks his hips forward to line up. Almost unable to find the hole with his eagerness to sink into you. 

“Joel, hurry.” Your hands shake, holding onto him and urging him closer to you, frantic with need now that you know that you are going to have him inside you. 

“Goddamn, I’m trying.” He hisses, hating to let you go so he can take his cock in hand. Rocking into his own grip as he shuttles his hips forward. “I’m fuckin’ trying, sweetheart.” 

You whimper when you finally feel him pressing against your entrance, choking out a sound of need that is animalistic. Only to cry out in bliss as he pushes inside you without another delay. 

He groans, eyes cinched shut as he slides inside you to the hilt, burying himself in your heat and feeling that coil in his stomach tighten even more now that your walls are around him. Immediately starting to move just as soon as he fills you, driving by that need and burning in his very veins. 

It’s exquisite, the pain and pleasure blending and fusing in your stomach, nerves alight and responding to every small movement. You can’t get enough of him, you need more. Wrapping  your legs around his hips, you rise to meet his harsh thrusts. Clenching down around him every time he hits that spot deep inside you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 

He shouldn’t be inside you, he shouldn’t be touching you, but now that he is, he can’t stop. Turning his head, he presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth. Needing more. Kissing you like he had imagined a thousand times before. Giving into every urge he has had since the day he met you and repressed before right now. Snapping his hips forward sharply and pulling every groan out of your mouth to swallow down. 

Every thrust makes it better, eases that burning in your core, your cunt slick and squelching every time he drives into you. He absorbs every sound you make, almost greedy for them. His hips jarring as they slam into you. Rocking you both up the bed. 

“Oh god,” breaking away from the kiss, you moan into his ear. Closing your eyes as he pants and puffs while he fucks you. “So deep, so deep, Joel.” Your nails drag down his back, making him hiss in pleasure and pain. 

“Shit.” He groans your name, lost in the rhythm of his thrusts and the building pressure. “You needed this?” He growls, making you clench down around him hard and whimper his name. “Yessss.” You agree, nodding against the pillow. “Needed it so bad.” 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He huffs, burying his face against your neck. Continuing to pound into you, and not letting up even though his back is screaming in pain. His body won’t let him do anything but rock his hips. Driven by a need that overrides everything else. 

His words make you burn, making you even more desperate for him. Your hips rock up and legs tightening around his waist even more. Loving how his cock stretches you out and scrubs against every nerve in your cunt. Lighting up your body until you are gasping on the edge of that much needed orgasm. 

Every plunge into your body brings him closer to cumming, desperate to feel that emptiness, that wrung out filling once he has filled you. He shouldn’t cum inside you, he knows that, but he’s not going to be able to stop himself. He can barely pull back enough to rock his hips back into you. 

His arms have banded around you, holding you into place as he fucks you. Deep and primal, as if he is trying to fuse the two of you into one. His cock punches into the depths of your body that you never imagined anyone reaching, but he touches it with ease. Your body pulsing with that need to come apart. 

“So close, I’m so close, baby.” You whine, body starting to tremble underneath him. “So close.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, grounding yourself to him in desperation. “Joel.” 

“I gotcha.” He groans, eyes closed and his breath fanning against your skin. “I’mma take good care of you, sweetheart.” He promises. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, ain’t cha? Just like you wanted.” 

His words throw you over the edge, that need built up so tight inside you that it busts on the next thrust. Lights careen and collide behind your eyes, bright and beautiful as your whole body ignites into pleasure like you’ve never experienced before. Crying out loudly and soaking  him in a wave of your juices. Cumming harder than you ever have before. 

Joel growls your name, his hips stuttering as you come apart around you. Unable to hold back any longer. He buries himself deep into your hot passage and paints your walls with sticks ropes of his seed. Panting against your lips as he empties himself body and perhaps his very soul into you. 

Both of you pant, relieved and exhausted from the pure exertion of need as you had taken from each other. Joel presses into you, trying to catch his breath, but the fire is still burning low in his belly, his cock still not softening as it twitches inside you. 

“Oh fuck.” You feel that same desire still curling in your stomach, not satisfied by the intensity of the orgasm that you are still coming down from. “Joel-” 

He huffs and shakes his head. “Don’t-” he presses his lips to your again, body screaming as he starts to move again. “Shhhhhh.” 

The need still burns and both of you are still locked in its fiery grip, not yet free from the desire that washed over you from a burst of pollen. 

****

“What the fuck man, open the door!” The thudding on the door finally penetrates the bone deep sleep you had finally fallen into. You don’t know how many time Joel fucked you, or how many times he had spend himself inside you as you blearily open your eyes. 

Joel grunts, slowly opening his own eyes and unwinding himself from the tangled together position that you had passed out in. The knocking on the door keeps on. “Joel!” Your name is also shouted, Ellie starting to sound somewhat panicked when neither one of you is immediately opening the door. 

“Fuck! I’m coming.” He drags the top blanket off the bed and wraps it around his waist before flinging the door opened to blink into the harshness of the sun. “What?” He growls roughly, making Ellie’s eyes blow wide with shock.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” She demands, pushing into the room and stopping short when she sees you sitting up in the only bed that has been disturbed, the sheet anchored beneath your armpits. “Oh shit, you fucked.” She gasps, turning and shooting Joel an impressed grin. “Way to go, old man, you made a move.” Her grin quickly turns into an expression of mild disgust when she realizes that she’s congratulating you two on having sex. “Uh, I’m gonna go now.” She huffs, wrinkling her nose and pinching it. “It smells in here.” Waving her hand in front of her face, she darts back out the door and Joel just stands there for a moment before he rolls his eyes and goes to shut the door before he thinks better of it. Sticking his head out of the room, he shouts after Ellie. “Stay away from the fucking fungus!” 

You snort, grinning to yourself as your body starts to ache. Fucking fungus indeed. 

[targaryenluvs]

— THUNDERSTRUCK!

pairings: luke castellan x daughterofzeus!reader, percy jackson x fem!reader (platonic & half-siblings)

summary: the one where percy’s babysitter ends up at camp with him, and may or may not be the child of a certain stormy man as well as falling in love with a thief (of her heart & other things).

warnings: fluff, percy takes on the brotherly role, protective perce, flirting, violence, protective reader over percy, possessive luke thoughts, kisses, makeoutish, timegap

wordcount: 4.2k (i went crazy)

a/n: i think i’ve seen this film before— (thalia wya) since a lot of people love protective percy/persassy! hope you like it!! i listened to it whilst making it sooooo i recommend!

taglist: @apollos-calliope @purplerose291 @loveyava @ohh-to-be-rich-and-pretty @iluvthemoonandthestars @chr1sgirl4life @liv1104 @fairycheol @coryoskywalker@perseus-jackass @hottiewifeyyyy @lizheartsyou @repostingmyfavs @lovelyforesst

you and percy had experienced so much in the last days, now at a random camp, that had been scarcely explained to you by sally and grover as the four of you made your way to camp.

beforehand, you’d been finishing up on your last school assignment when a knock on your door drew you from your laptop, then percy barged his way into your apartment soaking wet. “oh! okay what the hell? percy aren’t you freezing? what’re you doing here?” you’d since placed your laptop on the coffee table, jogging over to the door as percy smiled up at you, “montauk baby!”

you laughed, “montauk?” he nodded as you grinned, “i’ll be down in five, you are so lucky my flatmates aren’t here they’d make you scrub the wet floors.” once you were out of view, percy made it a point to shake his body and hair, droplets of water dispersing around the apartment. he hated your flatmates, two annoying boys who loved to stare at you. luckily you were too busy hauling ass with your backpack and gym bag, stuffed full of clothes and snacks.

sally greeted you with a smile, a hug and a kiss on the forehead, “how are you sweetheart?” your smile was practically blinding, “very excited, let’s hit the road!”

you’d already begun to tune out whilst sally explained, godly parentage and all. but not out of spite or confusion, only sadness. one of your parents weren’t actually your parent. whilst it seemed that your father was the obvious candidate, goddesses did exist as well. percy had never really been with his father let alone grown up with him for 18 years, so it was different for him than it was for you.

as if that wasn’t enough, grover being split in half as a goat had you rubbing your eyes, hoping for a different outcome when you opened them again, sorely disappointed when greeted with hooves and fur.

but nothing could have prepared you for watching sally’s demise. having had a hand in raising you, loving and shaping you into the amazing woman you were now, and now she was dust. snapping back into the moment a tad late, the sight of percy fighting the beast caused your heart to beat a thousand miles quicker.

“perce!” you’d tried to aid him, pulled back by grover, whom you’d recently learned was actually 24. in another, less serious moment, maybe you would’ve listened to your elder and his pleas for you not to interfere. your feet carried you to percy and the minotaur, grabbing a nearby rock you threw it as a distraction, momentarily drawing its attention. percy then stabbed it with its own horn, reducing it to dust as he fell down and you held him.

“please, please stay awake. stay with me perce.” you clutched onto him, but your pleas went unheard as grover’s did with you. his eyes fluttered to a close, but not before you heard him whisper, “mom?” your heart clenched at the misunderstanding.

you stuck by him the whole time, when chiron and the others found you, whilst he was in the infirmary, you stayed by his side. when grover promised you that he’d be there for percy, and urged you to eat and take a walk, you relented.

the dark haired boy had his head down whilst walking, in his head he’d been contemplating whether or not he wanted to visit the newcomers. which he did either way. he ran right into you, as you met the ground and he profusely apologised, “i’m so sorry, i wasn’t watching where i was— going.” it was rare for luke castellan to be at a loss for words, but as he met your eye he didn’t care. you were undeniably gorgeous, messy y/h/c hair, sweet yet drained eyes, and a small smile drawn on your lips.

“you’re… so fine. like, as in— you’re okay. it’s okay, we both didn’t watch ourselves. not that i’m blaming you! just—,” you breathed out as he grinned, “i’m luke… castellan, head counsellor of hermes cabin.” you giggled as he scratched the back of his head, “i could’ve left off the last part huh?” he didn’t want to come off as bragging, but it did seem like he was. you scrunched your nose and eyes, “yeah, probably.”

he lent his arm to you, hauling you up. “i know my name, you know my name, you know your name. seems like i’m the odd one out.” luke grinned as you laughed, the two of you found it easy to talk to one another, “i’ll tell you, when you’ve earned it.” shrugging your shoulders, you turned on your heel heading for the infirmary.

luke stood behind and watched, his voice was distant but still loud enough for you, “what do i have to do to earn it?” you shook your head, quickly turning back to him to shout out, “if i tell you, then you won’t chase after me will you?” your smile was imprinted in luke’s head, he only wanted to see it more often, you more often. and he sure as hell wasn’t above a chase.

the rest of the day was spent settling you and percy in. once he’d awoken, he immediately asked after his mother, but of course that wasn’t possible.

your presence was the only thing that percy knew, helping him calm down. the two of you were completely new in a place where the people around you seemed to have been at forever. and whilst you’d barely talked the people around you, they all spoke about the pair of you.

your journey had seemed to reach the ears of all the campers, including a certain ares girl.

clarisse whole heartedly believed percy to have lied about his encounter with the minotaur, for whatever reason. you’d found that out when luke was taking percy on a tour, whilst you’d been talking to chiron about settling percy in.

on your way back you’d noticed her talking to him.

“you want attention around here dummy? better be ready for it when it comes.” she snickered as percy stumbled backwards, but not before you steadied him from behind. “you okay perce?” he nodded whilst you surveyed him for any injuries, once you’d deemed him to be okay, you pushed him behind you.

percy’s troubled past was not foreign to you, teasing and bullies and expulsions galore. you’d never held it against him, percy was your brother, and you knew who he was. he was kind, and funny, a joke up his sleeve at all times, wide eyed and curious of his surroundings, fiercely loyal and friendly to those he loved. at times his mouth got him in trouble, but at the end of the day, he was always your perce. the one who’d always ditch school to take care of you when you were sick, the one who glared and protected you against your roommates, the same perce who puked for hours when sally and you had indulged him in blue foods for his birthday. he was your brother, you couldn’t protect him at times, but you’d be damned if you let it happen right infront of you.

“he’s twelve, twelve years old. how old are you? you might think it’s hilarious to bully new kids around, but i sure as hell don’t. stay away from him.” clarisse scoffed, crossing her arms, “i don’t like liars, he is a liar. and so are you. admit you faked the minotaur killing.” it was your turn to scoff, “it happened, why the hell would we lie about it? get over yourself honestly, are we continuing the tour or what?” luke clicked his tongue, “see you around clarisse.”

he could tell you weren’t in the best mood so he took it upon himself to make you smile, “how much do you want to bet he ends up poking someone’s eye out?” you and luke stood side by side as percy adjusted his protective glasses, attempting to weld. “how much do you want to bet he starts a fire?”

as the three of you ran out your laughs mixed in with luke, “pay up!” percy scrunched his eyebrows, “you bet on me? that’s rude.” you ruffled his hair as he swatted your hand away, “as if you could do any better Y/N.” luke smiled at the slip of your name whilst you groaned, “guess i didn’t have to earn it.” luke whispered into your ear. percy didnt like the close proximity, so he injected himself in between you two.

the rest of the day was spent trying to find what percy was good at, and then laughing at his failed attempts. then percy being annoyed at you and luke.

you’d stuck by percy’s side the whole day to which he protested, “i can be alone for a minute yknow?” the two of you were currently walking back from dinner, “okay, one, two—,” he threw his head back and groaned, “you know what i mean.” your hand rested on percy’s shoulder, “i’ll give you some time okay? just make sure you get back to the cabin before curfew, i think it’s going to rain.” percy nodded, walking off to wherever.

but you weren’t alone for long.

“so, how’d i do?” luke took up the space percy had occupied moments ago, “what do you mean?” he walked infront of you before turning around, “did i earn it? your name?” the smile on your face was hard to fight as you averted your gaze to ground, face beginning to heat up at his smile, “i’d say yes, but percy told you my name anyways. but you did also earn something else.”

“and what’s that?”

“my company.”

luke liked the idea of that, “well then, i’ll do my best to deserve it. do you want to take a walk with me?” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “isn’t curfew soon?” his hand was outstretched towards you, reminiscent of your first meeting, “lucky for you, i’m somewhat above the average camper.”

and so you took his hand, time and along the way his breath. just looking at you was enough to make him happy, the bitterness buried deep as he listened in for your laugh. admiring you in the moonlight, committing your face to memory.

your stomach hurt, bad.

the only times you laughed this hard were with percy. “there’s no way! you caught them trying to make out, twice?” luke nodded, “in the same night, basically infront of everyone. they’re both only eleven, so i’m guessing their understanding of relationships and privacy doesn’t span far.” you buried your face in your hands as luke shook his head, “uh-uh, if i’m talking to you, i need to see all of you.” you both sat at the dining pavilion, facing each other.

it only made you resort to hiding in between your knees next, “i can’t! i look crazy.” luke’s hands came to your wrists in an attempt to pry them away, which was successful, but then you hid by your knees. he did think about prying theme apart, but then blood shot to his face when he realised how sexual it was. so he rested his hands on your knees, which made you peek up at him. his eyes bore into yours, unrelenting and unashamed.

“you look gorgeous, all the time. and i seriously can’t hold a conversation with you if i can’t see your pretty face.” his words caused you to rise, legs coming down to rest on either side of the bench, “pretty huh? and what do you know about pretty girls?” luke crossed his arms as he smirked, “not much, just that i’m looking at the best one.” you smacked his chest, “god you’re such a flirt.” the two of you rose up from the table as luke smiled, “how can i not when you’re right here?”

you took in a deep breath, not expecting it to trap itself in your throat. you were alone, for once. you were alone. with an exceptionally strong, sweet, lovely guy, who seemed to have an affinity for you.

luke was revelling in your shyness, the more he got to know you the more he wanted to be with you. not only were you kind, but you stood your ground. even with clarisse, the second she targeted percy you stood in between the two. it was one of the many things he liked about you. he also liked the idea of stepping a little closer, maybe touching your face, kissing you?

as much as you wanted to get closer to him, you weren’t sure of yourself. and if it was past curfew then you couldn’t help but wonder if percy was safe and sound. “we should head back!” you spun around and began walking whilst luke sighed, “yeah, we should.”

you expected for him to either;

a) not be there

b) be asleep

c) be making his way back

not for him to be in the bathroom, held by clarisse and her friends shouting for you, “y/n!”

“let him go! now!” you screamed as you ran towards him, but clarisse held onto your arm, “he needs to learn his lesson.” you laughed, this girl and her stubbornness needed to be studied, “what the hell is wrong with you? my god he didn’t fake anything! he’s a poor kid who saw his own mother disappear infront of him! he’s terrified!” clarisse was strong, you’d give her a point for that.

but she ignited an ungodly amount of anger in your body. you pulled against her to get to percy as the storm outside made its presence known as you screamed, “let go!” thunder rattled through the air, striking outside the door, as clarisse and the girls were hurtled back by water. you immediately ran to percy, “are you okay? did they hurt you? i swear i’m going to—,” percy cut your rambling off with a tight hug, “you came.” the tears in your eyes fell free as you held onto him, “you called.”

annabeth stood at the door with luke whilst percy interrogated her, “are you stalking me annabeth?” their conversation was drowned out as luke made his way over to you, “are you okay?” he surveyed you for any outstanding differences, a cut or two. “i’m okay, i’m fine. thank you luke, i just need to get percy in bed. i’ve had enough of this camp for a day.”

you were on auto drive, the only thing on your mind was getting percy to your cabin, the ghost of a kiss you’d left on luke’s lips as you hurried out of the place didn’t register until you were in bed. luke seemed to enter years later, quiet steps to his bed alerting you. “luke?” your voice was hushed whilst calling out for him, aware of the other campers, “y/n?” he was in bed now, sat up.

“d’you mind if i—?” you gestured towards him and his mattress as his eyes lit up in recognition, “oh. oh! yeah.” you awkwardly shuffled into his bed, knees touching his as you sat facing one another, “do you wanna—?” “i’m sorry for…” the two of you overlapped, after a beat of silence just meeting his eye caused you two to break out in hushed giggles and laughter.

“i kissed you, very randomly. i’m sorry luke.” he shook his head and smiled, “it’s fine, i liked it.” your eyebrows travelled up as you straightened your back, “you.. you didn’t mind?” his hands held onto yours, “not at all, i haven’t known you long, and you haven’t known me. but i want to continue getting to know you sweetheart.”

your smile could’ve stretched miles across america, your eyes shone brightly, if you’d asked he would give you the world. he was going to, wouldn’t it be nice? having someone by his side through it all?

that night you both slept side by side, his arms seemed to envelope you entirely. his nose dug into your neck, uncomfortable but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. luke slept soundly that night, his hands trailing over you, in the night and morning. being awoken by a kiss, morning breath be damned.

“not that i don’t love it, but what’s got you in such a good mood?” luke continued kissing down your neck as you giggled, “it tickles!” he murmured whilst continuing, “i don’t care.” your hands ran through his curls, your morning bliss was ruined by a yelp of surprise.

“what the— y/n?!” percy’s face was pure disgust as you shoved luke to the side, not realising that you’d been on the edge of the bed until luke collided with the hard wood floors with an ‘oof’. “oh god, are you okay?” a thumbs up had you smiling, before you realised the mess that you were in with percy.

“how? when? why?”

“all those questions will be answered eventually, percy, it’s nothing crazy okay? just calm down.” percy scoffed, “nothing crazy? it’s basically only been a few weeks and he has his tongue down my sisters throat.” that sobered you up, sleep washed away, “sister? did you just—?”

“i don’t know, but please, just try not to around me.” percy felt slightly embarrassed at letting you know how he thought of you. how could he not expect you to be a sister? you’d been in his life forever. “okay, not to interrupt but—,”

“then don’t.” percy snapped as you groaned, “ignore his royal sassiness, continue luke.” luke brushed himself off as he continued to speak, “todays capture the flag.”

percy wanted to throw himself over a cliff.

everyone else was amped up, practicing with friends and strategising whilst he sat on the grass as you triple checked his armour, “i think i’m fine y/n, do you want some bubble wrap? extra security.” he joked as you sighed, “i just want to make sure you’re okay, is that so wrong?” percy sighed, “no, i guess not.” you held onto his shoulders as you looked into his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

before percy could even ask for the reason for your apology a sloppy peck on his cheek was left behind as you ran off. “y/n!” you laughed at his screechy voice, but chirons voice explaining the rules shut you up.

the game seemed to be going well, you hoped so.

you were currently viewing percy floss on a rock, which made you want to push him over it, which you couldn’t for obvious reasons you settled for pelting his armour with rocks and pebbles. “ow!” you laughed at his exclamation, knowing it hadn’t hurt him, “please, it only hit your armour.” percy shrugged, “still.”

maybe you’d been to engrossed in staring at pebbles and thinking about luke but the girls managed to surround you. sword in hand you rose from the floor, tossing percy’s things his way. your own sword clutched tightly, “flags that way, it’s not here.” clarisse smirked as she held onto her own spear, “we know. yeah, glory’s fine. revenge is more fun.” you shook your head, disbelief filling you, “god you just don’t stop do you?” she laughed, “no maiming. it’s like the one rule.”

“yeah, i guess i’ll lose dessert privileges for a while. i’ll live.” your sword clashed with the girls, grunts ringing out through the air as you held your own. you weren’t concerned for yourself, only percy. you yelled out for him when he tripped over the log, “perce!”

clarisse stood infront of him, “i’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not. i just want you to admit you're a fraud, and that you’re having Y/N lie for you. it’d make me feel better. are you feeling up to that yet?” percy stumbled as he ran, you shoved the girl to the side and followed along, “keep running, don’t look back!” clarisse sighed, “guess that's a no.”

you ended up on the shore, percy rolling over as he stumbled to his feet, they all surged forwards as you continued to fight. clarisse mainly focused on percy whilst you held off the other two. one of the girls was overconfident, believing herself to be able to take you down with a few hits. your hand managed to slide into her armour on her shoulder, wrapping your hand around it you slung her into the water with all your strength. cringing when you heard her slam on the floor.

the other girl huffed, “wonder what we’ll do when you lose. maybe i’ll go over to your precious little percy, beat him around. a few stabs and slices might teach him the meaning of honesty.” her words were fuel to the fire inside you, your hands and body felt alive the second you began fighting, as if you were meant for it. you were going to beat this girl to the ground.

the victory of your team wasn’t enough to stop you, a moment of hesitance formed when luke planted the red flag into the floor as he celebrated with chris. spoiling his happiness was chris, “isn’t that your girl?” luke’s head whipped to look over at you on the shore, sword in hand as you faced off with the girl, percy held up by clarisse.

“it’s one thing to threaten me, but percy? you’re going to beg me to stop.” the campers were quiet, the entire area was abuzz with anticipation. your yell and hers broke the silence as you charged at eachother.

hit after hit, you continued pushing her back. swords colliding as you put all your force into the fight, the swords neared her throat. her terrified expression made you grin, “told you.” her legs were swept out from underneath her as she slammed into the floor, sword taken from her grasp by you.

luke cheered when she fell, igniting a string of applause and support from your team. but right now? all you could focus on was her. “you think this means anything? i’ve been fighting my whole life, you’re nothing. he’s nothing but a lying loser who lost his mommy.” the girl spit out blood, her teeth painted crimson. the power you felt looking down on her was unmatched by anything in your life. glancing backwards you viewed annabeth speaking with percy, who, thankfully, wasn’t fatally injured.

your grip on the hilt of your sword tightened as you lowered yourself, knee resting on either side of her waist. up above, dark clouds began to form, threatening a storm again. rage surged through you as you picked her up by her armour, “say it again! say it again and i’ll break you in half bitch!” your screams echoed as the campers watched on, you shoved her to the floor before raising your arms, your sword held high as you struck it down. right next to her head, simultaneous lighting struck all around you.

the thunder was deafening, but with the girl out of your way your focus came back with only one thought, percy. you turned around only to view percy standing in the water, a trident above his head. “percy!” you pointed towards it as he looked up in shock, what you didn’t expect was for him to point at you.

a lightning bolt, right above you.

luke’s jaw was close to the floor, you and percy had been claimed, both forbidden children. now this was awkward. but he swallowed his anger and made his way to you when he could. by then you’d already spoken with chiron, and had the situation explained to you. currently you were settling into your new cabin.

a knock on your door drew your attention as you called out, “who is it?”

“hint, it’s not clarisse. so don’t strike me down with lightning, i quite like being unburnt.” the voice you’d hoped to hear flowed through the room, “come in, please.” luke closed the door behind him as he made his way to you, “please? you really wanted to see me didn’t you?” he teased as you rolled your eyes.

“you’re not wrong.” your hands pulled on the drawstrings of his hoodie, tying them together and undoing. luke took in your change of demeanour, brushing stray hairs behind your ear, “you want to talk about it?” your lips pressed into a tight line, “not really. can we just sit? maybe read?” luke picked up a book from your bag whilst you laid down.

he laid down next to you as you settled your head onto his chest, “percy’s okay, i spent about an hour with him, talking. isn’t that funny? i always treated him like he was my brother, and he is.” he hummed, leaning his head onto yours, “makes sense, seeing you beat the crap out of the ares girl, knew you had to be something special. it was also very hot to watch.” you shifted to look up at luke, his smirk was evident as you buried your face.

“don’t get shy on me now, i’m just love struck. i have a lovely girl on my side, how am i supposed to hold myself back?” your hand traced a lightning bolt over his chest, “lovestruck huh?” he nodded along proudly, “maybe not lovestruck.” you sat up a bit, “what do you mean?” the concern laced in your voice was hard to miss.

“i’m thunderstruck.”

“and i’m going to murder you.” your hands attacked his side as he laughed.

“i take it back i swear!”

[leaderwonim]

smart, sexy, lacy, i’m losing it lately.

pairing. student!yang jungwon x student!fem!reader

summary. jungwon has always hated you, right from the start. you were too nice, too smart for your own good, and lately—you’ve been starting to get too pretty for yang jungwon to handle.

author’s note: HAPPY BDAY YANG JUNGWON WOOOOO here’s a post dedicated to my bias, the loml. this fic is entirely based off of olivia’s song “lacy”, one of my favorites off her guts album!

Yang Jungwon thought you were the most insufferable person he met. Not only were you overly nice, but you were so smart that you got the highest scores unlike bitter Jungwon who always managed to score second place.

“I’m losing it,” Jungwon whispers underneath his breath as he lifts his paper up into the air. A big red 99 was scribbled on top of his paper.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Sunghoon, a friend of Jungwon’s, took a seat next to the mess of a boy who was currently ruffling his hair in stress. “A 99 is good Wonie!”

“No it’s not,” he mumbles, placing his head against the table. “No it’s not. Song Y/N managed to get a 100 again.”

Almost as if the universe knew Jungwon was talking about you, you passed by the two boys, waving a quick hello to Sunghoon.

“Don’t wave back.” Jungwon mumbles, lifting his head up slightly to glare at Sunghoon.

“What? Why?” Sunghoon whines, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know why you hate her, she’s a sweetheart.”

“Look at her,” Jungwon mutters in disgust as he finally straightens his posture to look at you. “God’s favorite child—Song Y/N. Those stupid ribbons in her hair make me want to barf.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say it, but he’s ultimately very concerned for Yang Jungwon. He’s known the boy for years and it confuses him on why he hates you so much. You have been nothing but nice to the both of them since freshman year of high school.

“Why do you care so much Won?”

“I don’t.”

It’s a lie, one that Sunghoon detects from a mile away.

Yang Jungwon cares. He cares a lot. He lets his hatred of you take over his life, and it leaves him feeling miserable.

When Yang Jungwon walks into creative writing, his favorite class of the day, he is hit by the overwhelming smell of your perfume.

He’s practically memorized it by now because everytime it’d come into his presence, his nose would flare up and his body would tense. Vanilla and macadamia, of course you’d wear something like that.

You probably don’t notice—or at least Jungwon hopes you don’t notice—but he’s always staring at you, quickly looking away when you make eye contact. Sometimes, he’d huff under his breath about how ridiculous you look with your ponytail, even though Yang Jungwon knows it looks adorable on you.

Being around you was like sweet torture in the young brunette’s eyes.

“Jungwon!” You say as you make your way to him on one afternoon. “Congratulations on making it as class secretary! I knew you could do it!”

Jungwon bites the inside of his cheek, not expecting your input.

You’re too nice. You’re way way too nice to him. He thinks.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Although you were complimenting him, it felt like bullets piercing through his skin.

“I dyed my hair, do you like it?” You give him a smile, oblivious to the current crisis that Yang Jungwon was going through.

You did dye your hair. It was a bright blonde now, kind of reminding him of Regina George, you know—minus the bitch part.

“It’s… okay.” He mutters. “Listen Y/N, I have a lot of work, do you mind?”

You shake your head quickly, muttering out a small apology before taking off to find your friends.

Yang Jungwon wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but you looked dazzling in your newly dyed hair. You looked like Bardot reincarnated, and Yang Jungwon was so fucked because he knew that he couldn’t escape you wherever he’d go.

It was almost as if you were made out of Angel dust.

“Are you out to get me?” Yang Jungwon slams his hand on your table, jolting you from your work.

“What are you talking about?” You say, still putting on a smile despite being confused.

“Are you out to get me?” Jungwon feels out of breath now that he’s all up close and personal to you. “You poison everything I do!”

“What do you mean?” You frown, the feeling of sadness suddenly seeping over you. “Jungwon?”

“You know that I just loathe you lately? Do you Song Y/N?” Jungwon looks away in distress, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “My mind, it’s like I can’t get you out of it, and I don’t know what to do. I hate you—I swear I do—but I don’t know anymore! My mind practically worships you Song Y/N!”

Jungwon’s eyes widen when he realizes he’s said too much, especially when he comes in contact with your face that’s bright red in shock.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Jungwon, it’s okay.” You take his hands into yours, rubbing it comfortingly. “I kind of knew for a while, Sunghoon told me. I know all these feelings must be confusing but you know I’m here for you regardless.” You smile at him. “I like you Yang Jungwon.”

Jungwon’s mouth goes dry, and for the first time, he can’t think of anything to insult you with. “I.. I like you too Song Y/N.”

“Finally.” Sunghoon emerges suddenly from behind you two, making Jungwon gasp in shock.

“Yah! Don’t do that hyung!” Jungwon complains, hands still holding on tightly to yours.

“Sorry, had to get my two favorite kids together.”

Yang Jungwon wasn’t sure of many things, but he was sure of 2. One: he liked you a lot, and two: he was definitely going to kill Park Sunghoon for telling you everything.

[lcriedlastnight]

Ok so I got a request pls 🙏 🥹

Maybe Oscar's or Max Fs sister and Lando with the prompt "I'm your lockscreen?" - "you weren't supposed to see that"

I hope that's enough if not I can come up with a longer one

no this is so prefect! i love this so much!

tw: fem!reader, swear, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 933

max was a great brother. he was a little protective but overall he was the best. he had gone round all of his friends, every time he made a new one, telling them you were strictly off limits.

of course this also applied to lando, too. no matter how rich they were, or how famous or how pretty they were. yeah, you maybe had fallen victim to lando norris' charm. you had no idea what it was because he literally had no game, what so ever. you just thought he was cute, it made you feel like a teenager with a crush on your brother's best friend. half of it being true.

you had been looking forward to max's birthday celebrations, not to celebrate his birthday. no but to see his pretty, curly-haired best friend. you had not been this excited in a while. it was a little embarrassing but you just played it off like you were excited to be with your brother. maybe you were a little excited to see him too, you had not actually seen him in a while as he was almost just as bad as lando with being all around the world all the time. you were jealous, you always wanted to travel.

you arrive at max's house just after lando does. you two are the only guests that have arrived so far. seeing as max had asked you both to come a little earlier to help him prepare that did not surprise you. you do not even bother knocking, instead you just walk inside and announce aloud that you were here. you hear a muffled shout from the other room- well two muffled shouts to be exact, alerting you that both boys were in the kitchen. lando's laugh could be heard from a mile away.

max greets you as soon as he notices your presence while lando just stands in place, grinning like a fool. you do not understand him sometimes but you smile back at him anyways, never one to be impolite.

"hi. what exactly do you need help with, max?" you asked, setting your things on the counter so you could help him with the getting ready prospect of the party.

an hour later and you wished you had never bothered responding to your brothers desperate text messages last night, pleading you to come help him set up. both boys had ended up slacking so you had put mostly everything together. max complained "why should i have to set up? it's my birthday." but lando was quick to humble him, "you're the one who decided to throw a last minute party in your own house."

after a lot of of complaining from both boys, they eventually did end up pulling their weight and once all the balloons and banners were set up to max's liking he gave both you and lando the go ahead to begin getting ready. unfortunately because you knew you were getting ready at max's you had to haul a heavy bag full of your makeup and outfit options for the night in a tote bag. on the bright side though, lando offered to carry it up stairs for you and you got to see the way his muscles bulged as he strained to carry the bag.

for some reason lando had refused to leave your side as you got ready, claiming it was relaxing to watch you get ready. how you did not know this boy was down bad for you was unbelievable. he literally offered to let you play music on his phone while yours charged on the opposite side of the room. he watched on with a pretty smile as you scroll through his liked songs on spotify, trying to find the one that sets the mood of how you were currently feeling getting ready.

lando makes small talk as he lays on the guest bed behind you, just catching up with you really, as you follow the steps in your makeup routine. the song catches you off guard but you physically recoil as it plays. "i fucking hate this song!" you exclaim, the pre-game drinks settling in a little. you tap lando's phone screen to change the song when you catch a glimpse at his phone screen. it was a glimpse because it faded to black before you could really study it. you did not need more than a glimpse to recognise your face staring back at you.

"i'm your lock screen?" you ask lando. you turn to face him on the bed, you can see the panic in his eyes as your words register in his mind.

"what?" he laughs lunging for his phone like that would do anything. the damage was done now. you had seen the picture. there was no going back. "that's not- uh."

you smirk as lando tries and fails to dig himself out this.

"you weren't supposed to see that." lando blushes a little. it is the first time you have ever seen lando blush. you suppress the urge to grab your own phone and snap a picture of him, all pink cheeked and starry eyed. maybe you would make it your lock screen.

"it's fine. it's cute. now i want you as my lock screen." you smile at him desperately wanting to calm his nerves. lando just grins at you.

you had then made it that night's mission to take the cutest picture of lando to set as your own lock screen. you succeeded but not without a mouthful from max on what the fuck you thought you were doing.

[homoquartz]

some dead boy detectives Teenager Moments (tm) cuz they're cute

playing with a ball in the corner (again)

charles's godawful flirting

also his voice cracking when he shouts "crystal!"

edwin daydreaming about men's abs

charles chucking the vase and going "bollocks!!"

"don't yell at me!"

charles, obviously a virgin: we'd get it on. smash?

"do you know who mr. potatohead is?"

cat king: aren't i fun? edwin: not at all. it's just old.

"excuse me miss washer woman"

with attitude: "what's the peach pit?"

watching scooby doo on the bed

"ugh!! we get it!! you spent a long time in hell!"

edwin checking charles and crystal's astrological compatibility

"i hate jocks"

"you KISSED!?!?... how was it?"

"i was supposed to meet up with edwin today but they have this STUPID case :("

"GIN gin??" and "i just remembered i'm underage"

monty's whole swing bit, whee, smooch and all

"my mom said this credit card is only for emergencies"

the girls doing a boyfriend breakup ritual

jenny's rules: no yelling, no banging, no door slamming, no running, rent in coins ok i guess

"they're like real detectives, they have like, criteria"

crystal, blatantly lying: no it's just a bear

edwin and monty's ENTIRE post-kiss situation

"who would even do that?"

"i didn't ASK to be born have all these feelings"

crystal pulling esther's hair

jenny: should you be going alone? crystal, already gone: yeah

S+E

"it sounds like you have a really sad job"

charles packing weapons for hell: lit molotov!!

"that story ends tragically." "right. never finished it."

edwin sitting on the roof and kicking his little feet

"i told the boy i like that i like him"

crystal using the word "toxic"

crystal throwing charles his backpack, missing by a mile, and running away without noticing

"i'd like to make a formal request for asylum." "it's a formal request! you can't just ignore it!"

night nurse: is assigned to mind the boys charles: lmao

"do you think she'd let me call her charlie?"

"no, charles, i don't." (giggling)