#I think the talk of hands is going to make some people suspicious

[lore-grandma]

Me: *really liking to cook and bake things*

My hands:

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤTWISTED LOVEㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Nolan Grayson x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Would He Be When He's Obsessed?

☆⁠ NOTES : There are some +18 parts. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

It starts with curiosity.

Nolan doesn’t fall easily. He’s Viltrumite—evolution burned love out of his species long ago. Mates are chosen for compatibility, strength, breeding. Nothing more.

But you—you confuse him.

You’re human. Fragile. Your bones would shatter with a flick of his wrist. You bleed too easily. You cry too loudly. You smile too much. Your laugh is obnoxious, your opinions are naïve, your body is so soft and delicate he finds it repulsive... until he doesn’t.

Until he starts to notice the sound of your voice more than the noise of the city. Until your scent burns into his nose like it was made for him. Until the day you touch his arm in passing and he has to leave the room because his hands are shaking.

He tells himself it’s a distraction. He tells himself you’re just an itch.

Then comes the obsession.

He watches you.

Not because he wants to.

Because he has to.

You’re always in his mind. Your laugh replays in his ears when he’s halfway across the world. He knows your routines—what time you leave for work, where you get your coffee, how long it takes you to fall asleep.

He listens to your heartbeat sometimes when you’re not even near him. Through walls. Through cities. It calms him. Grounds him. And if someone looks at you too long in public, he memorizes their face.

They never live long.

He tells himself it’s protection. You’re vulnerable. You don’t understand the world like he does. You need him.

But it’s not protection.

It’s possession.

He tests the waters.

At first, you think it’s innocent.

Nolan starts showing up where you are—your local bookstore, the park, the grocery store. You think it’s coincidence. He’s charming. Polite. A little intense. You know he’s married. You know he’s older. You know he’s too much.

But when he talks, you feel like he’s the only one seeing you.

And that’s all it takes.

He kisses you once—gently, like you might break. He apologizes. Says he’s confused. Says he’s trying to be a better man.

He’s lying.

But the kiss… isn’t.

He feels something snap inside him when you don’t pull away.

He leaves his wife.

Debbie notices the change. Of course she does. He’s colder, angrier, distracted. And she knows. She always knew what he was capable of.

You’re not some secret mistress. You’re a turning point.

He lies at first. Then stops bothering.

When he leaves, it’s sudden. He doesn’t explain. He doesn’t need to. Debbie is human. You’re human too—but different.

You make him feel like a god and a man. You make him care.

And that terrifies him.

He can’t stand being apart.

If you ever try to pull away—even a little—he loses control.

He won’t yell. He won’t hit. He’s too above that.

But the air gets thinner. His voice gets colder. His eyes go dark.

He’ll corner you emotionally. Tell you how small and weak and breakable you are in this world. How people like you don’t survive without someone like him. How you need him more than you realize.

And he’ll say it with love in his voice.

With desperation.

With devotion.

He worships you. In his own way.

When you’re with him, you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

He’ll carry you like glass. Cook for you. Watch you sleep, every night. Whisper in your ear.

He never says I love you.

He says you’re mine.

He says I would burn this planet for you.

He says don’t ever leave me.

And he means all of it.

But his love is twisted.

He doesn’t understand human love. Human softness.

He’ll kill for you, without hesitation. Always without you knowing. He’ll destroy anyone who hurts you—even if that “hurt” was just a stray word or a suspicious look.

And if you ever betray him?

He won’t kill you.

No.

He’ll kill for you.

He’ll tear open the sky just to find you.

Even if it means dragging you down with him.

Because in the end...

You’re not just his obsession.

You’re his purpose.

His reason for staying tethered to this meaningless world.

And if this planet turns on him?

Then he’ll turn on it.

With you at his side.

Or in his arms.

Or in his cage.

Whatever it takes.

It’s never soft. Not anymore.

He tries. In the beginning.

He holds your face like it’s precious. Like your skin might fall off your bones if he touches too hard. But Nolan was made to conquer, not caress.

And every time you moan—every time you whisper his name like it’s holy—he forgets he’s supposed to pretend to be human.

He grabs you.

Slams your wrists above your head, his hand wrapped around both like iron. Teeth at your throat, your shoulder, your lips—biting, not kissing.

He doesn’t ask if you want it.

He already knows.

You’re soaked for him. Begging. Gasping.

He knows your body better than you do. He knows exactly how to tear you apart and put you back together.

And he enjoys it.

He punishes you when you try to leave.

Maybe you text someone you shouldn't. Maybe you don't come home fast enough. Maybe you talk back.

You never even see it coming.

He shows up, silent and still as death. The door locks behind him. His cape hits the floor. You see his eyes—they’re glowing.

You say his name.

He doesn’t speak.

He bends you over the table like a toy and fucks you until you're sobbing. Until your knees are shaking. Until you’re hoarse from screaming and begging but you don’t even know what for anymore.

You cry, and he kisses the tears like they belong to him.

Because they do.

You do.

He breaks the bed. Sometimes the floor. Sometimes you.

His strength is inhuman.

Sometimes, he forgets to hold back. He snaps the headboard with one thrust, cracks the floor with his knees while grinding into you. One night, he tears your panties in half with two fingers and growls, “Don’t wear these around me again.”

Sometimes you bruise. Sometimes you limp. Sometimes you wake up with your thighs sticky and sore, your body aching in places you forgot existed.

And he’s always there when you wake up.

Cleaning the blood from your thighs. Pressing kisses to your forehead. Murmuring things you don’t understand but feel in your bones.

They sound like prayers.

But they’re threats too.

He keeps you.

Eventually, you stop fighting it.

He’s not just a man. He’s a force. A hunger. A god who decided you were the one thing worth worshipping.

And gods don’t let their worshippers go.

He doesn’t let you leave the house without a kiss. He doesn't let you sleep unless it's with his hand wrapped around your hip, or his head buried in your neck. He tracks you. Listens to your heartbeat through walls. Through cities.

One night, you whisper, “You’re obsessed.”

He laughs.

Low. Dangerous.

“No,” he says. “I’m yours. You’re mine. That’s not obsession, sweetheart. That’s truth.”

And then he kisses you like he’s about to devour your soul.

And maybe he does.

You forget who you were before him.

Before Nolan.

Before the bruises you like.

Before the eyes that watch you even in your dreams.

Before you started craving the way he breaks you just to feel whole again.

Now you live for the sound of him growling your name. For the way he says “mine” when he’s deep inside you, holding you down like the world might rip you from him.

You should run.

You won’t.

You belong to him now.

And the terrifying part is—

You want to.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[nerdycheol]

Love, On Air || Choi Seungcheol (valentine's special)

♡ Pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

♡ Genre: best friends to lovers, romance, fluff, slice of life

♡ Word Count: 7.8k

note: Happy Valentine’s Day! 💖 This is a special Valentine’s edition based on the poll results(so if you voted—congrats, you manifested this 👀). A massive shoutout to @facethesunflower for proofreading and making sure this didn’t turn into a total disaster. 😆 Hope you enjoy this fluffy, slightly dramatic, finally-they-confess moment.

Remember: if your best friend is acting suspiciously like Cherry… maybe it’s time to connect the dots. 👀💕

The clock hits 9 PM. You take a deep breath, adjusting the headphones on your ears as the familiar hum of the radio booth wraps around you. The room is small, dimly lit by the soft glow of the equipment and the neon sign flashing LIVE on the wall. 

"Alright, we’re live in 3... 2... 1..."

Your hand hovers over the soundboard as you smile into the mic. 

"Good evening, lovely listeners, and welcome back to The Heartbeat Hour, your go-to late-night show where we talk all things love, relationships, and everything in between," you say, your voice smooth and warm, like a cozy blanket on a cold night. "I’m your host, __ , and tonight is extra special because we’re in the heart of Valentine’s week. So, buckle up, folks—this week’s all about confessions, crushes, and, of course, giving you some advice to help you sort through your feelings."

You press the button for the first song request, the soft strains of a romantic ballad filling the room. As the music plays in the background, your eyes scan the requests that have been flooding in. The chat box is constantly ticking with messages—listeners asking for advice, sharing their love stories, or seeking songs that speak to their hearts. You feel that rush, the adrenaline of knowing you’re connected to so many people in real time.

"Now, I’ve got a message here from a listener who needs a little help," you say, pulling up the request. "This one’s from 'Cherry,' who writes in: ‘I’ve been crushing on someone for a while, but I’m not sure how to confess. Any advice?’"

You let out a small breath, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk as you think. This one’s a classic. You've seen it all before, but every confession still feels fresh. You smile softly into the mic.

"Ah, 'Cherry,' I get it. Confessing your feelings can be scary, but it’s also one of the most real things you can do. Here’s my advice: Keep it simple. No need for grand gestures, no elaborate speeches. Sometimes, the best way to let someone know how you feel is through a small, sincere gesture. Maybe write a note or give them a little gift that shows you’ve been thinking about them. And when you tell them how you feel, just be honest—there’s no such thing as a perfect confession. Just be you."

You pause, feeling the warmth of the words settle into your heart. The music swells in the background, adding to the ambiance of the moment.

"Remember, 'Cherry,' it’s not about getting it perfect—it’s about being brave enough to say it. And hey, the worst that can happen is they don’t feel the same way. But you know what? You’ve still won because you were true to yourself. So take a deep breath and go for it. You got this.”

You let the silence linger for a moment, Cherry’s words still hanging in the air. Then, with a small smile, you reached for the controls.

"Alright, Cherry, and everyone out there holding onto feelings they haven’t found the words for—this one’s for you. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to say what’s in your heart, or at the very least, remind you that you’re not alone."

With a soft click, the studio filled with the delicate, wistful melody of "From the start" by Laufey—a song that is the ultimate friends to lovers song for all delusional daydreams.

Leaning back in your chair, you glanced out at the city lights reflecting against the glass. Somewhere, maybe Cherry was listening, hesitating over a letter they weren’t sure they’d ever send. Or maybe, just maybe, they had already begun writing.

After an hour of song requests, confessions, and quiet laughter shared through the airwaves, the LIVE sign dims. You take off your headphones, stretching your neck as the studio falls into silence. Another night, another show wrapped up.

Gathering your notes, you stack them neatly before grabbing your now-lukewarm latte from the desk. The faint chatter of coworkers drifts through the halls—other RJs wrapping up, producers discussing schedules.

"Great show tonight, ___," someone calls out in passing.

"Thanks! See you tomorrow!" you reply with a small smile, pulling on your coat.

Near the exit, your producer glances up. "Don’t forget—tomorrow’s segment is longer for the Valentine’s special. Get some rest!"

"Got it. Night, everyone!"

Pushing open the station doors, you step into the cool night air. The city hums in the distance, but here, it’s quiet—still. You take a slow sip of your latte, savoring the warmth against the crisp breeze.

And then, just a few steps away, you see him.

Leaning against his car, hands tucked into his coat pockets, Seungcheol watches you. The street lamp casts a soft glow over him, catching the faint curve of his lips.

You stop in front of Seungcheol, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

He tilts his head, acting like it’s the most casual thing in the world. "I was just passing through."

You narrow your eyes. "Passing through? Your workplace is nowhere near here."

"Okay, fine," he chuckles, pushing himself off the car. "I thought I’d pick you up. It’s been a while since we had dinner together."

"Ah, I see. You missed me." You smirk, taking another sip of your latte.

"Don’t flatter yourself, " he scoffs, but the amusement in his eyes gives him away.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head before walking around the car. "Alright, alright. Let’s go before you start crying about how I never have time for you."

He pulls open the passenger door for you with a teasing bow. "Your chariot awaits, my lady."

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you slip inside, and he shuts the door before making his way to the driver’s seat.

As he starts the engine, Seungcheol glances at you. "Nice show today."

You blink. "Oh? What’s up, Choiseung? You’re complimenting me?" You raise an eyebrow, grinning.

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Forget it. Should’ve just let you believe no one listens to your rambling at night."

"Too late. I’m taking this to heart forever," you joke, leaning back in your seat.

A few minutes into the drive, Seungcheol reaches into his coat pocket and hands you a neatly folded envelope.

"Here."

You glance at it, then at him. "What’s this?"

"Just open it."

Curious, you unfold the letter inside. His familiar handwriting stretches across the page, carefully written, filled with warmth. It’s a simple note—thanking you for being in his life, for always listening, for just being you.

Your heart softens as you read.

"Ohh, Cheol... this is so sweet. Thank you so much, friend." You smile, touched by the gesture.

The moment the word leaves your lips, he freezes—just for a second.

Then, with a short nod, he looks away, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

"Yeah… friend." His voice is light, but something about it feels off.

You don’t notice. Or maybe, you just don’t understand.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing," he clears his throat, turning into a street. "We should hurry before the restaurant gets packed."

You let it go, tucking the letter safely into your bag as the city lights blur past.

Dinner is simple—warm bowls of stew and easy conversation. You catch up on each other’s lives, laugh over childhood memories, and argue over who should pay the bill (which Seungcheol wins, as always). It’s comfortable, familiar—just like it’s always been.

But every now and then, Seungcheol watches you with something unreadable in his gaze. Something just beneath the surface.

Later, he pulls up in front of your place.

"Thanks for dinner, Choiseung." You grin, unbuckling your seatbelt.

"Yeah, yeah. You can pay next time."

"I’ll believe that when it happens." You laugh, stepping out of the car. "Goodnight!"

He waits until you disappear inside, only driving off once your lights flicker on.

And then he waits.

Seated in his car, he watches as your silhouette moves around the room. It’s only when your lights finally turn off that he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck before driving away into the quiet night.

The next day passes in a blur of work, coffee, and the usual routine. You go through meetings, reply to emails, and try not to fall asleep at your desk. It’s just another regular day—until night falls, and you’re back in the studio, headphones on, mic live, slipping into the comfort of your show.

"And that was 'Moonlight' to set the mood for tonight," you say, adjusting the volume on the console. "Now, let’s see what’s on your mind, listeners. Late-night confessions, random thoughts, love letters—I'm here for it all."

A familiar name pops up in the chat, and you smile.

"Ah, a message from ‘Cherry’ again," you muse, skimming through it.

"So, Cherry says: ‘I wrote them my feelings, but I feel like they didn't get the hint. Any advice?’”

You lean back, thoughtful.

"Confessions are tricky, aren’t they? But if words feel too heavy, why not try something else?"

You pause, then smile.

"Here’s an idea—make a playlist. Fill it with songs that subtly express your feelings, and share it with them. You can name it something meaningful, like ‘For You’ or ‘Songs That Remind Me of You.’ Maybe they’ll get the hint, maybe they won’t, but either way… music has a way of saying what we can’t."

A soft melody plays as you set up the next song, your voice lowering.

"Speaking of confessions… Cherry, this one’s for you."

___

After the show, you gather your things, stretching as the familiar hum of the studio fades into the quiet of the night. Stepping outside, the cool air brushes against your skin—and there he is, leaning against his car, arms crossed, waiting.

"You again?" You arch a brow, teasing.

Seungcheol smirks. "What can I say? Madam needs her personal chauffeur." He pushes off the car, opening the door for you with a playful grin.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you slide in. "More like my chauffeur needs his daily dose of validation."

He chuckles, shutting the door before rounding the car. "Can you blame me? Gotta make sure my most important passenger gets home safe."

You shake your head, biting back a smile as he starts the engine. The familiar warmth of routine settles between you, comfortable and unspoken.

As you drive, soft music fills the space—a melody unfamiliar yet strangely intimate. You pause, listening. It’s not his usual sound. Gone are the heavy beats and sharp rhythms he prefers. Instead, the speakers hum with gentle tunes, lyrics drenched in longing.

You glance at him, amusement flickering in your gaze. "Since when did your taste in music change this much?"

His fingers flex over the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road. "Dunno. Just felt like switching things up."

You hum along absentmindedly, letting the melody wrap around you, comforting in ways you don’t fully understand.

Seungcheol exhales quietly, gripping the wheel a little tighter, sneaking a glance your way. Because this playlist isn’t just a mix of songs—it’s a confession. One he can only hope you’ll hear.

As Seungcheol pulls up in front of your place, he shifts the car into park but doesn’t make a move to unlock the doors just yet. Instead, he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, stealing a glance your way.

"__, since tomorrow’s the weekend... you wanna hang out?" His voice is casual, but there’s something just a little hesitant in the way he says it.

You turn to him, brows raised. "Sure. Where?"

Seungcheol clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away. "Nothing much… just the amusement park. Maybe a café after, y’know."

You blink before breaking into a small smile. "Huh, it’s been a while since we’ve gone there."

He nods, still avoiding your eyes. "Yeah. Thought it might be fun."

You tilt your head, watching him for a second before nudging his arm. "Well, if you’re paying, I’m definitely in."

He scoffs, rolling his eyes but grinning nonetheless. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go overboard with the snacks."

You laugh, reaching for the door handle. "No promises. See you tomorrow, Choiseung."

As you step out, he waits, watching until your lights flicker on inside. Only then does he drive off, the soft hum of the playlist still playing in the background.

The next day, the weekend air carries a hint of excitement as you step outside, spotting Seungcheol waiting by his car. Dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans, he looks effortlessly relaxed—except for the way he keeps checking his phone, as if trying to act nonchalant.

"Wow, you’re actually on time today," you tease, walking up to him.

He scoffs, sliding his phone into his pocket. "Please, I was born punctual."

You snort. "Sure, if 'punctual' means making me wait at least ten minutes every time."

Seungcheol rolls his eyes but opens the car door for you anyway, his usual playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Just get in, before I make you walk to the amusement park."

You laugh, sliding in as he rounds the car. Soon, you're both on the road, the soft hum of music playing in the background.

"So, what’s the plan, tour guide?" you ask, glancing at him.

He shrugs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Nothing fancy. Just rides, food, and you trying not to chicken out on the roller coasters."

You gasp dramatically. "Excuse you, I do not chicken out—"

"You literally backed out last time," he deadpans, making you groan in protest.

The banter continues, filling the car with laughter as the amusement park comes into view, the vibrant lights and distant screams of thrill-seekers setting the perfect scene for the day ahead.

As Seungcheol parks the car, you glance at the towering rides ahead, the excited chatter of parkgoers filling the air.

"Alright, where to first?" he asks, stretching as he steps out of the car.

You scan the park, lips pursed in thought before pointing towards the roller coasters with a challenging grin. "Since you’re so confident, let’s start with that."

His eyes widen for a split second before he huffs. "I wasn’t the one who backed out last time, remember?"

You laugh, linking your arm with his and pulling him along. "Exactly. Time to redeem myself."

The line moves faster than expected, and soon, you're seated, the bar locking in place. You grip the handles tightly, sneaking a glance at Seungcheol. He looks relaxed, but the way he exhales deeply before the ride starts doesn’t go unnoticed.

The moment the coaster shoots forward, your screams mix with laughter, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you grip the bar for dear life. When it finally slows, you glance at Seungcheol, only to see him looking at you instead of the ride’s descent.

"What?" you ask, breathless.

He shakes his head, a small, fond smile on his lips. "Nothing. Just glad you didn’t chicken out this time."

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully as you both step off the ride, your legs slightly wobbly from the rush.

The day continues with more rides, playful bets on who can win the most arcade games (he cheats, you swear), and an unnecessary but hilarious attempt at a claw machine.

"Face it, I'm just naturally gifted," he boasts, tossing you a small stuffed bear.

"Naturally full of it, maybe," you grumble, but take the bear anyway, hugging it to your chest.

Finally, as the night settles, you both find yourselves on the Ferris wheel, the gentle hum of the ride filling the comfortable silence. The city sprawls below, glowing under the streetlights, and in the distance, fireworks begin to bloom in the sky.

"Didn’t think today would be this fun," you admit, leaning back against the seat, the cool glass behind you a contrast to the warmth in your chest.

Seungcheol glances at you, something unreadable in his expression. He exhales softly, his fingers tapping against his knee.

"Yeah... I, uh—" He hesitates, licking his lips, his voice quieter now. "There's actually something I—"

But before he can finish, a particularly loud firework crackles in the sky, painting the cabin in flickering colors. You turn quickly, eyes lighting up as you take in the view.

"Oh, look at that one! It’s so pretty" you say, completely missing the way Seungcheol sighs, his half-spoken words swallowed by the moment.

He leans back, running a hand through his hair, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," he murmurs, gaze lingering on you instead of the fireworks. "It is pretty."

Eventually, you both find yourselves at a cozy café just outside the park, the scent of coffee and pastries filling the air.

After placing your order, Seungcheol suddenly pushes back his chair. “Be right back,” he says, flashing a quick smile before heading toward the counter.

You don’t think much of it, scrolling through your phone until the waiter returns with your drinks. As they set your cup down, you notice the delicate heart design floating atop the foam.

You tilt your head, stirring it slightly with your spoon. “Oh? Is this some kind of Valentine’s special?” you ask, amused. “Did you get one too?”

Seungcheol, who’s just returned to his seat, glances at his own plain coffee and shrugs. “Yeah… no.”

You raise a brow. “Huh. Guess they just like me more.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink, but you don’t notice the way he hides his small, satisfied smile. Because the truth is, he had asked for that heart—just for you.

//

The next evening, the soft glow of the studio lights casts a warm hue as you settle into your seat, adjusting your headphones. Outside, the city hums with life, but a sudden downpour has turned the streets into shimmering reflections of neon signs.

"Looks like we’re in for an unexpected downpour tonight," you say, adjusting your headphones with a small chuckle. "So if you're heading home, grab an umbrella—or better yet, find someone who’ll share theirs with you—if not, maybe this is your chance for a classic movie moment. You know, the whole ‘one umbrella, two people’ thing."

With a quick tap, you queue up a slow, dreamy melody.

"Wherever you are tonight—rushing through the rain or just watching it fall—I hope this keeps you warm. Stay safe out there." As the song plays, you sit back, stretching your arms with a sigh. 

As the show wraps up, you take off your headphones, letting out a small sigh as the last song fades into silence. The studio, once filled with the hum of voices and music, now feels still. Gathering your things, you push open the door, stepping into the quiet hallway.

Outside, the rain still falls in soft sheets, blurring the glow of streetlights. You pause near the entrance, rummaging through your bag. No umbrella. Right. You meant to bring one this morning, but in the rush, it completely slipped your mind.

 You pause at the entrance, contemplating making a run for it, when a familiar voice calls out.

"Figured you’d forget yours."

You blink as Seungcheol steps forward, holding out an umbrella, his usual smirk in place. His hair is slightly damp, his coat dusted with droplets, like he had hurried here without much thought.

A small flutter, barely noticeable, stirs in your chest. You shake it off with a teasing smile. "What, no chauffeur duty today?"

He chuckles, tucking a hand into his pocket. "Uhh, not tonight. I have to stay late for that project."

You tilt your head, a little surprised. "So you came all the way here just to give me this?" You motion toward the umbrella in your hand.

"Yeah," he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Before you can say anything else, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, sighs, then looks back at you. "I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

You nod, watching as he jogs toward his car, the red taillights fading into the rain.

For a moment, you just stand there, gripping the umbrella a little tighter. You don’t know why, but the weight of it in your hands feels different.

Then, shaking off the thought, you open it and step into the rain, heading home.

//

As morning arrives, the first thing that comes to mind is Seungcheol. You blink at your phone, thumb hovering over his contact.

Texting him isn’t anything new—you’ve done it countless times before. But for some reason, tonight, it feels… different. Maybe it’s your coworker’s words still echoing in your head, or maybe it’s the way he’s been occupying your thoughts more than usual.

Before you can overthink it, you start typing.

You: Did you get home okay?

A second passes. Then another. You bite your lip, debating whether to add something else.

You: And did you even sleep well? Don’t tell me you stayed up all night working.

You press send before hesitation can creep in. Almost instantly, the dots appear.

Seungcheol: Wow, checking up on me? I must be special.

You roll your eyes, already imagining the smug grin on his face.

You: Forget I asked.

Seungcheol: Wait, wait— I did sleep. Kinda. Had a long day, but I’m home now.

You: Good. Don’t overwork yourself.

Your fingers hover over the screen for a beat before you add one last message.

This time, he takes a little longer to respond.

Seungcheol: You too.

You lock your phone, exhaling softly as you sink into your pillow.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe you’re just overthinking. But the warmth unfurling in your chest suggests otherwise.

At work, the usual hum of chatter fills the office. You’re halfway through your emails when a coworker slides into the seat beside you, a teasing grin already in place.

"I saw you yesterday," they start, leaning in slightly. "With a guy. Was he your boyfriend?"

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard.

"What? No!" The denial is immediate, instinctive. Too quick. You clear your throat, forcing a casual shrug. "Just a friend."

Your coworker chuckles, clearly amused. "Mmm, sure. You should’ve seen your face just now."

You scoff, shaking your head. "Oh, please. It’s not like that."

They raise an eyebrow, smirking as they lean against your desk. "Right. Just a friend, huh?"

You roll your eyes, waving them off, but as they walk away, their words linger.

Just a friend. 

You’ve said it a hundred times before. So why does it feel different now?

The soft glow of the studio lights wraps around you like a familiar embrace as you settle in for another night on air. The playlist hums in the background, filling the quiet spaces between your thoughts as you scroll through messages from listeners.

One catches your eye.

“I think I’ve fallen for my best friend. It wasn’t sudden—more like a slow, creeping realization. One day, I caught myself smiling at my phone just because they texted me. I don’t know if they feel the same, and I’m scared to lose what we have. What do I do?"

You hesitate for a moment, the words settling heavier than they should. There’s a flicker of something familiar in them, something that makes you sit up a little straighter.

You take a breath and lean toward the mic. “That’s… complicated,” you begin, your voice even, steady. “Falling for a best friend is tricky. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. One day, they’re just… them. The same person they’ve always been. And then suddenly, everything feels different.”

Your breath catches slightly. A part of you wants to laugh at the timing, but instead, you clear your throat and lean into the mic.

You exhale softly, fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of your notes. "I think the scariest part isn’t even confessing—it’s the thought of what happens after. What if they don’t feel the same? What if things change? But… at the same time, isn’t it worth knowing? Isn’t it better than wondering ‘what if’ forever?"

The words come naturally, maybe a little too naturally, and you catch yourself mid-sentence, blinking at the realization. Your fingers tighten slightly around the papers in front of you.

You shake it off with a light laugh. "Anyway, I’m not a love expert. But if you’re listening… maybe ask yourself this—would you rather take the risk or live with the regret?"

As the segment transitions, you queue up the next song, the soft melody of Can't Help Falling in Love by Kina Grannis filling the airwaves. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling.

//

The idea of a team dinner had been floating around the office for weeks, but it wasn’t until today that your producer finally put his foot down.

“We’re going,” he declared, arms crossed as he leaned against your desk. “No more excuses, no more ‘let’s do it next week.’ Tonight, we eat.”

Your coworker snickered, spinning lazily in their chair. “You just don’t want to go home and cook.”

“Exactly,” he admitted shamelessly. “Besides, it’s been a while since we all hung out outside of work. You in?”

You hesitated for a beat, glancing at your screen before sighing. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do. “Yeah, I’m in.”

And that was that. A few hours later, you found yourself walking toward the restaurant with the rest of your team, the air buzzing with conversation. Your producer was still arguing about food, insisting that this place was “decent at best” while another team member defended it with an almost personal level of passion.

You laughed at their banter, falling into step behind them—until something made you slow down.

A familiar figure stood just outside the restaurant, hands tucked into his coat pockets. Even before he turned, you knew who it was.

Seungcheol.

Your brows lifted slightly in amusement. “Are you a stalker?” you teased as you approached. “You’re literally everywhere I go.”

He turned toward you, chuckling under his breath. “No, I’m here with someone. My cli—”

“Shall we go?”

The voice belonged to a woman who stepped up beside him, her posture poised, her tone polite. She looked… elegant. The kind of effortless elegance that didn’t even need to try.

Your gaze flickered between them, something unreadable tightening in your chest before you smoothed your expression. “Who…”

The woman met your eyes and smiled. “Oh, I’m Lee Hana. I’m working with Seungcheol on a project.”

You nodded, lips curving into something light, something easy, even as something else tugged inside you. “Right. Nice to meet you.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingered on you for a second longer than it should. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” you blinked, shifting slightly. “Our team is having dinner.” You motioned toward the restaurant behind you. “You know, bonding and all that.”

He nodded, but before he could say anything else, Hana touched his arm lightly. “Shall we?”

There was a pause—brief, barely there—before he cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.” Then he glanced at you again. “Bye, then. Have fun.”

And then he was gone, walking away with her at his side.

You watched them leave, something unspoken pressing against your ribs. It’s not jealousy, you told yourself. Not really. But the feeling stayed anyway.

A voice broke through your thoughts. “Oh, isn’t he the umbrella guy?”

You turned to see your coworker standing beside you, glancing after Seungcheol with mild curiosity before their gaze shifted back to you. “Did he come here with a woman?”

You said nothing, but that seemed to be enough of an answer.

They hummed knowingly. “You really must be just friends.” And with that, they walked inside.

You stayed there a second longer, staring at the spot where Seungcheol had just been, before shaking yourself out of it and following them in.

The night air is crisp as you walk back home, the sounds of the city buzzing softly in the background. Your team dinner had ended a while ago, but instead of feeling full and satisfied, there’s a strange heaviness in your chest—a weight you don’t quite understand.  

As you turn the corner to your apartment complex, you slow down, your steps faltering.  

There, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, is Seungcheol.  

Your brows knit together. “What are you doing here?”  

At your voice, he straightens, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You didn’t look well back at the restaurant,” he says, his tone light but laced with something else—concern, maybe. “So, I thought I’d check on you.”  

You blink at him. “You drove all the way here for that?”  

He shrugs. “It’s not far.”  

Liar. His office is nowhere near your place.  

There’s a brief pause. The usual banter is on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, the words don’t come out as easily tonight. Maybe it’s because he actually showed up. Maybe it’s because you don’t know what to do with the way your heart stutters at the sight of him standing there, waiting for you.  

You shift your weight. “Do you… want to come in for coffee?”  

At that, he chuckles, shaking his head. “Coffee? At this time?” He tilts his head at you, amused. “You must really hate me if you don’t want me to sleep tonight.”  

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Then I’ll give you plain water. Just come in.”  

His lips twitch into a smirk before he pushes himself off the car. “If you insist.”  

And just like that, he follows you inside.  

The door clicks shut behind you as you step inside, flipping on the lights. The familiar warmth of your home settles around you, but with Seungcheol standing in your living room, it suddenly feels… different.

“You can sit,” you say, gesturing vaguely to the couch as you move toward the kitchen.

He hums in response, wandering over but not immediately sitting down. Instead, he looks around, eyes flickering to the small details of your space—the stack of books on the coffee table, the blanket draped lazily over the couch, the half-full cup on the counter from this morning.

“By the way,” you start, keeping your voice casual as you pour warm milk, “who was that woman earlier?”

Seungcheol hums in acknowledgment, but when he answers, it’s after a slight pause. “Just a client. I’m handling a project for her company.”

“Ah.” You nod, stirring the coffee a little too forcefully. “Looked like you guys were close.”

He lets out a small laugh. “Are you interrogating me right now?”

You scoff, bringing the mugs over to the table and handing him one. “No. Just making conversation.”

You drop onto the couch beside him, curling your legs under you. He’s been here so many times before, and yet tonight, the usual comfort feels a little different—like you’re hyper-aware of the way he leans back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the way he watches you over the rim of his mug.

“You seemed off earlier,” he says after a beat. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you lie, but even you don’t sound convinced.

Seungcheol doesn’t press, just tilts his head slightly, studying you like he’s figuring out a puzzle. “If you say so.”

After a while, he stretches, glancing at the time. “I should go.”

You nod, following him to the door. He lingers for a second, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Text me when you wake up, yeah?”

You frown. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Just ‘cause.”

You roll your eyes, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes your chest tighten. “Fine.”

He smirks. “Good.”

And then, with a small wave, he’s gone.

You stand there for a second, staring at the closed door, fingers curling tightly around your cup.

The theater is dim, the soft glow from the screen casting flickering lights across Seungcheol’s face. The film has barely begun, but the hum of quiet conversations and the rustling of popcorn bags fill the space around you.

You’re not sure who suggested this movie. Maybe he did. Maybe you did. Maybe it was just one of those things—where he casually texted, "Movie?" and you didn’t even think before replying, "Sure."

The movie plays, but your focus wavers. You’re aware of him. Of the way his shoulder is just barely brushing yours. The way his fingers drum lazily against his knee. The way he shifts slightly every now and then, getting comfortable.

And then, his hand moves to the popcorn bag between you.

Your fingers accidentally graze his. Just for a second.

You don’t think much of it—until it happens again.

The second time, neither of you pull away immediately. It’s not intentional, not deliberate. Just… a pause. A moment that lingers for a beat too long before he finally retracts his hand.

Your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression neutral.

A few more scenes pass. You’re getting lost in the film when suddenly—

A jump scare.

It’s sudden enough that your breath catches, and before you can stop yourself, your hand darts out, grasping the closest thing—his arm.

Seungcheol doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t say a word. Just glances down at your fingers curled around his sleeve.

You realize what you’ve done a second too late. Heat creeps up your neck as you start to pull away.

But then—

His arm shifts just slightly, just enough that your hand slides from his sleeve to his wrist, fingertips brushing against his skin.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

The moment stretches, unspoken, unacknowledged. Not quite intentional. But not exactly not intentional, either.

And suddenly, the movie is the least interesting thing in the room.

The movie ends, and the crowd slowly shuffles toward the exits. You stretch your arms as you step out of the dimly lit theater, the cool night air greeting you.

"That wasn’t as scary as I thought," you say, glancing at Seungcheol.

He scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Sure. That explains why you nearly ripped my sleeve off."

You roll your eyes, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "That was one time."

He smirks. "Uh-huh. And what about the other time? And the time after that?"

You narrow your eyes at him, but there’s no real bite behind it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"Okay, whatever. Where are we eating?" You change the subject swiftly, and Seungcheol hums, pretending to think.

"Ramen?" he suggests.

Your stomach growls at the mention of food, and you nod. "Sounds good."

It’s a short walk to the small ramen shop tucked away on a quieter street. The place is cozy, warm, and familiar—one of those late-night spots you’ve both ended up in more times than you can count. The moment you step inside, the comforting aroma of broth and spices fills the air.

Seungcheol orders for both of you, as he always does, rattling off your usual without even asking. The cashier doesn’t even blink, already used to it by now.

You shake your head with a small smile. "One day, I’m going to switch things up just to mess with you."

He leans against the counter, grinning. "No, you won’t."

He’s right, and you hate that he knows it.

The two of you settle into a booth, the conversation flowing easily between bites of food. Seungcheol steals a piece of your fish cake without asking. You retaliate by swiping a sip of his drink. It's effortless, familiar.

By the time you step back outside, the streets are quieter. The late hour drapes the city in a peaceful hush, the occasional headlights casting long shadows on the pavement.

Neither of you say much as you walk, but it isn’t an awkward silence. Just the kind that lingers when words aren’t needed.

At some point, Seungcheol slows his pace, falling into step beside you instead of slightly ahead.

The street lights flicker above, the air crisp but not too cold. You rub your hands together out of habit.

A beat passes before Seungcheol exhales through his nose and, without a word, reaches out.

His hand brushes yours, just barely.

You think it might be an accident until he does it again.

This time, he doesn’t move away.

And neither do you.

The apartment is quiet when you step inside, the familiar space wrapping around you like a well-worn blanket. You toe off your shoes, set your bag down, and exhale, as if the night still clings to your skin. The soft hum of the refrigerator is the only sound filling the air, but your mind is anything but quiet.

You wander into the kitchen on autopilot, reaching for a glass, but your fingers hesitate over the cabinet handle. The thought slips in, uninvited.

What if he already knows?

The question lingers, settling into the corners of your mind like an echo. You shake your head as if that alone could shove it away, but it doesn’t work.

Maybe it’s the way he laughed tonight—soft, genuine, like the sound itself belonged to you. Or the way he leaned in closer, just enough that his warmth almost touched you. Maybe it’s nothing at all, just the way he exists around you—familiar, steady, yet suddenly… different.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to chase the feeling away, but it’s stubborn. Because now that you’ve noticed it, you can’t unsee it. Every teasing remark, every lingering glance, every small, meaningless moment—it’s all been leading to this.

And the worst part?

You don’t even know when it started.

You sink onto the couch, pressing the cool glass against your palm, grounding yourself. You try to convince yourself it’s nothing. You’ve always been close. He’s always been there.

But tonight, when his hand brushed yours and he didn’t pull away… when he said goodnight like he meant something else…

Your heart had stuttered.

You bite your lip, staring at the ceiling, willing your heartbeat to settle.

...What if he already knows?

//

The studio is quiet except for the soft hum of the equipment. The city lights flicker through the window, casting faint shadows against the booth. You scroll through the messages, eyes landing on a familiar name.

Cherry.

“I tried everything you said—gave them a letter, took them out, spent so much time together. And honestly? I swear they like me too. But… nothing. What do I do?"

You let out a breath, tapping your fingers lightly against the desk.

"Okay, first of all—don’t give up. I know it’s frustrating when someone doesn’t read between the lines, but sometimes, people need things to be said plainly. No metaphors, no subtlety. Just… real words."

You lean back slightly, eyes flickering toward the dim window of the booth, where the city blurs in the distance.

"Because here’s the thing—what if they do feel the same way? What if they’re just as scared as you are? Wouldn’t you rather know than spend your days wondering?"

The words come easily, almost too easily, and for a split second, you wonder if you’re really just talking to Cherry anymore.

You exhale and push forward.

"So here’s my advice, Cherry. Tell them. No hints, no half-confessions. Just look them in the eyes and say, ‘I like you.’ And if they don’t feel the same? At least you’ll know. At least you won’t have to live with ‘what if.’"

Your hand hovers over the controls for a moment longer than necessary before finally pressing the next song cue.

The melody flows through the studio, soft and steady. And yet, your heart is thudding slightly faster than it should.

The night air is cool against your skin as you step out of the building, the faint hum of the city filling the quiet. Work is done for the day, your coworkers already heading their separate ways after a few lingering goodbyes.

You stretch your arms slightly, exhaling as you adjust the strap of your bag—only to freeze mid-motion.

He’s there.

Standing just outside the entrance, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket—except for one, which lingers behind his back, hiding something.

Your heart stirs, something instinctive. “Seungcheol?”

His lips twitch in a small, almost nervous smile. “Hey.”

“You’re waiting for me?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, stepping toward him.

“Yeah.” A soft exhale. “I had to.”

You tilt your head slightly. “Why?”

Seungcheol hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Then, with a slow exhale, he pulls his hand from behind his back—revealing a bouquet of flowers, delicate and vibrant under the streetlights.

Your breath catches.

Your fingers brush against his as you take it, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

“Seungcheol…” Your voice is softer now, unsure. The gesture feels too deliberate, too thoughtful. It makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

He watches you for a second before exhaling, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve said this sooner. A long time ago, actually.” His voice drops slightly. “I think—no, I know—I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Your breath catches.

He holds it out to you, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. “I know it’s kind of cheesy, but... I saw this and thought of you.”

Your fingers brush against his as you take it, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

“Seungcheol…” Your voice is softer now, unsure. The gesture feels too deliberate, too thoughtful. It makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

He watches you for a second before exhaling, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve said this sooner. A long time ago, actually.” His voice drops slightly. “I think—no, I know—I’ve liked you for a while now.”

The world feels like it slows down.

His eyes flicker with something—uncertainty, vulnerability, an honesty so raw it makes your chest tighten.

“I tried not to,” he continues, voice steadier now. “I thought maybe it would pass, that maybe we were just friends and I was misreading things. But then you started showing up in my thoughts at the most random times. I’d hear a song and think of you. I’d pass a café and wonder if you’d like their coffee. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it… it was always you.”

Your fingers tighten around the flower.

“So I’m done pretending.” His voice is quiet but firm. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

You swallow, fingers tightening around the flower as your heart stumbles over itself. The weight of his words settles over you—not heavy, not suffocating, but something warm, something undeniable.

For a long moment, you don’t speak. You don’t know if you can.

Seungcheol watches you carefully, his usual confidence laced with something softer, something uncertain. You can tell he’s waiting, bracing himself for whatever comes next.

So you inhale slowly, steadying yourself.

“You—” Your voice falters slightly before you clear your throat. “You’ve liked me for a long time?”

He nods, lips curving into a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah.” A beat. “I thought you knew.”

Your breath catches.

Did you?

You think back—to the lingering glances, the easy laughter, the way he’s always been there, steady and constant. The way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. The way your heart has been shifting, your feelings unraveling into something you weren’t ready to name.

“I…” You pause, lips parting, your heart beating so fast it’s dizzying. And then you laugh, a little breathless, shaking your head. “God, I feel so stupid.”

Seungcheol blinks, caught off guard. “Huh?”

You meet his eyes, and this time, there’s no doubt, no hesitation.

“I like you too, you idiot.”

For a second, everything is still.

Then Seungcheol lets out a sharp breath—a laugh, almost disbelieving—and suddenly, that teasing smile you know so well is back, but there’s something else in his expression now. Something real. Something unshakable.

“Yeah?” His voice is quieter, laced with something warm.

You nod, lips pressing together. “Yeah.”

And then, he pulls you in—his hand resting at the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair.

His lips press against yours, gentle at first, then firmer, like he’s been holding this in for too long. His other hand stays over yours, the bouquet still between you, petals brushing against your skin.

The city buzzes in the background, but all you can hear is the quiet rush of your own heartbeat. And in that moment, with his warmth, his touch, his everything—

It just feels right.

You pull away just enough to look at him, breathless, your forehead still resting against his. His hands remain on your waist, warm and grounding, as if neither of you wants to let go just yet.

And honestly? You don’t think you ever want to.

A soft laugh escapes you, light and airy. “You know… a listener of mine also loves their best friend,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly. “They tried everything—subtle hints, letters, taking them out—but their best friend was too dense to get it.”

Seungcheol chuckles, his thumb brushing over your wrist. “Sounds familiar.”

“Right?” You sigh dramatically. “So, I told them to just confess. No hints, no half-confessions, just… real words.”

He hums, nodding thoughtfully. “Good advice.”

“Yeah,” you grin, looking up at him. “I wonder how it went for them.”

Seungcheol pauses for a second, then leans in just a little, his voice playful yet quiet. “I’d say pretty well.”

You blink. “Huh?”

His lips quirk up, and suddenly, the way he’s looking at you feels a little too knowing.

And then, before you can process it, he says it—just two words, but they hit you like a ton of bricks.

“I know.”

You stare. “What?”

He grins, tapping a finger against your forehead lightly. “Your listener. Cherry.”

Your brows furrow. The pieces are there, but your brain refuses to connect them. “What about them?”

He hesitates, as if savoring the moment, before finally confessing, “It’s me.”

Silence.

You tilt your head, processing his words. “...You’re Cherry?”

Seungcheol nods, clearly holding back a laugh at your expression.

For a second, you just stand there, staring at him.

Then, with a dramatic gasp, you lightly smack him with the bouquet in your hands.

“Ow—hey!” He feigns pain, stumbling back slightly, but the wide grin on his face betrays him.

“You idiot!” You hit him again, though there’s no real force behind it. “You made me give love advice for your own confession?”

He catches your wrist, still laughing. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can retaliate, he tugs you forward, pulling you into another hug.

This time, it feels different.

Familiar, warm, but with something new. Something neither of you have to question anymore.

You sigh against his shoulder, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you.”

He grins. “Believe it, Baby.”

[hadersversion]

but daddy i love him!

“no, i’m not coming to my senses. i know he’s crazy but he’s the one i want.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent kook!reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut, minors dni!!! dry humping & fingering. corruption kink of sorts (rafe and an innocent reader has taken over me fully i apologize). parental violence/verbal abuse. fighting. rafe showing his true colors but quickly hiding it from the reader because rafe is a big softie for them. pet names (sweetheart, honey, darling, baby, pretty/good girl). aftercare. let me know if i miss any!

mood board!

rafe cameron was bad news.

anyone in the outer banks could tell you that.

he was a fighter, a shit-talker, a guy who you couldn’t trust.

but there was something so intriguing about him that you just couldn’t turn away.

from the day you moved to island almost 10 years ago, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. you would see him at parties, the country club, when you would hang out with his sister, around town on his motorbike with his buddies. but you had to push that crush deep down because no one in their right mind would go after that boy.

except you.

you stretched yourself on the court, waiting for your dad to come out with drinks before your tennis match. that’s when you saw him and his friends making their way to the locker room. they had just got done their round of golf, you could tell by their bags. you tried not to stare, but your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.

“hey, y/n.” you heard him call, with a smirk painted across his face.

your face blushed and you waved to him. “hey rafe.” play it cool, play it cool.

you can see him look you up and down, staring at your legs. “nice skirt.”

you looked down at the new, white tennis skirt your dad had bought you for your report card. your fingers found a loose thread, beginning to toy with it to deal with the embarrassment you felt. “t-thanks.”

he nods before looking behind you. “mr. y/l/n.” he nods with a quick wave. you turn around to see your dad with two waters and a stern look on his face. “enjoy your game.” he says before going inside.

your dad stands over you as you sit, handing a water bottle over. “that cameron boy…” he lets out a deep sigh.

“what?” you question, getting up and brushing your legs off.

your dad pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “he’s not the kind of guy you want to be friends with, sweetie. he’s a bad seed.”

“but how do you know that?” you question, trying not to sound too suspicious.

your dad picks up his racket and makes his way over to his side of the net. “i know ward cameron. and i know how rafe is just like his dad, thinks he can get anything he wants. thinks there is no consequences to life. but there is. there always is.” your dad shakes his head. “i saw him beating up some kid here not that long ago. sure, he was a pogue but doesn’t give rafe the right to walk around like the king of the outer banks. but until someone stops him, humbles him, things’ll never change.”

you stand there, uncomfortable. all you wanted to do was defend rafe, though you weren’t close like that. but your dad is a one way street. it’s his way or no way. so all you can do is nod. “oh…okay.” you say simply, getting ready for the match.

“just promise me you won’t get mixed up with the likes of that boy, please?” your father looks sincere.

you bite your lip and look down at your clean, white shoes. “yes sir.”

“good, now watch me beat you in tennis.” he says with a laugh. i fake a smile, getting on with the game, but still have rafe in the back of my mind.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

you didn’t see rafe again until the night of a house party at topper’s house.

your friends and you walk in, buzzed from the pre-game. they immediately all go their separate ways, looking for drinks, boys, or both. this leaves you standing awkwardly by a table, talking to some people from school. they talk about prom, their grades, and teachers, making you mentally check out from the conversation. that’s when he catches your eye, he is talking to topper and kelce with a red solo cup in his hand. you watch his every move, how big and veiny his hands are, practically cover the entire cup. how he constantly pushes his hair back while he talks, almost seeming like a force of habit he has. he also licks his lips a lot, sending a very graphic image of rafe between your le-

he looks up, meeting your gaze. a blush forms on your face as you try to hide your embarrassment but taking a sip of alcohol from your cup. you give yourself some time, staring into the cup before looking up again. but when you look at him, he hasn’t stopped staring at you. the blush you fought so hard to keep away makes your face feel like it’s on fire.

you watch as he excuses himself and makes his way over to you. this has to be a dream? or some prank, right?

“hey there, y/n.” he snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts. every person who you are talking to looks over to rafe then back at you. “didn’t know you were coming.”

you awkwardly shrug. “last minute choice by my friends.”

his eyes burn holes into your body as he looks you up and down. “well, i’m glad you’re here.” you nod at him, offering a shy smile. “looks like you need another drink, come inside and i’ll get you one.” he nods his head towards the kitchen door. the group you're with is watching this conversation like it’s a TV show. you make my way through them and stand next to him. he automatically puts his hand on your back and leads you inside. the feeling of his touch sends chills down your spine but it almost feels like his hand is meant to be there. like his touch is the missing piece in your life.

you get into the kitchen and he heads towards the fridge, grabbing juice and handing it over. “you strike me as a vodka and juice, girl.” he says with a smile, making my insides melt.

“and what makes you say that?” you ask, putting your hand on my hip, playing into his little game of flirting.

“well, you’re sweet and you seem to play it safe. you don’t really drink a lot but when you do, you’re never blacked out.” he admits with a laugh, giving his diagnosis. “juice is sweet and vodka is the safest way to get a little drunk, in my opinion.” he stares at your face, waiting for a response.

“you’re good, rafe cameron. a little too good.” you admit, grabbing the juice and filling up the cup. he stands over you, giving me the vodka next. “didn’t know i was that easy to read.”

“you’re not.” he admits, staring down at you while you drink. “i just think i have a special interest in you.”

you freeze in place, there’s no way he’s admitting this to you. right now. the boy you’ve been pining after since the first grade. you can tell you're shutting down but you need to play it cool. “oh really?” you look up at his blue eyes, getting lost in them instantaneously.

“really.” he steps closer, inches away from my face. you know you are not that drunk but your head feels like it’s spinning under his gaze. he leans in a little closer, your noses brushing, when the kitchen door slams and topper can be seen stumbling in. his obnoxious laugh fills the room, making rafe close his eyes and sigh. “what could you possibly want right now?”

topper laughs and comes up beside rafe, he’s clearly fucked up. “i’m just looking for some weed, man.” he hits his chest playfully. “don’t let me get in your way.”

rafe pushes him away, making topper laugh harder at us. he looks at you before speaking. “sorry for being a cockblock.”

rafe narrows his eyes at him. “just get the fuck outta here, top.”

topper staggers into the other room, still laughing.

“sorry about him. when he drinks, he becomes an asshole.” he says, running a hand across his face.

“is he drunk all the time?” i ask with a new found confidence in my voice.

rafe looks at me and laughs. “seems to be.”

you both stand in silence, not moving away from each other but unable to bring the moment back.

“i like you.” he admits.

you stare at him, unable to speak. “w-what?”

“i think you heard me, y/n.” he smiles cockily, looking into your eyes.

you look back at him. “you barely know me, rafe.”

“doesn’t mean i can’t like you.” he sips his cup and nudges your shoulder with his. “i think you could say the same about me.” he gets closer, whispering into your ear. “don’t think i don’t notice how you stare at me when i’m around.”

you feel the air leave your body and you bite your lip. you feel like your cornered and have nowhere to go. “i-i-uh…”

he brushes his finger against your lip, almost like he’s shushing you. but you can’t even fight the way your body reacts to his touch. “it’s okay, honey. i like it. i like it a lot.” he says in a whisper, almost making you forget you aren’t the only two people in the world. it feels like you can read his mind just by looking into his blue eyes. he wants you…screw that, rafe cameron needs you. and you need him. forget what your father says, or the town, or even your friends. this seems to be all you need.

how am i ever going to recover from this? you thought to yourself.

you hear your friend call your name from outside. rafe looks over as they yell from outside. “i’ll see you around, how’s that sound?” you look at him, unable to think when he looks at you like this. his hand brushes against your face before walking back out into the party.

you stand there, still as your friend comes in. “you alright? looks like you seen a ghost or something.” she asks you, laughing a bit.

“all good.” was all you can get out, staring straight ahead at the door rafe just left in.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

ever since the party, rafe found little ways to be around you.

whether it was joining you at the country club while you played tennis or hanging around you when he saw you at the beach reading. he even started knocking on the front door of your mansion to just talk on your porch, something you had to hide from your dad. with these interactions, you had no idea what everyone was warning you about with him. he was one of the sweetest guys you ever met. for weeks, you and rafe had begun a nice friendship.

but the almost kiss at topper's party was never spoken of again.

the two of you sat on your porch swing, the air was warm as summer was slowly approaching. your legs laid flatly across rafe’s lap, looking directly at him. you poured a glass of lemonade for you both, sparking rafe to hit you with a “you sure you don’t want some vodka in this?”

when you’re with rafe, the conversations seem to just flow like you are the oldest of friends. you could talk about anything and nothing at the same time. he went on for the past five minutes about how he used to love playing lacrosse but one injury affected his whole career for him.

“it sucked, ya know? i never felt like i belonged anywhere, or had a close bond with anyone like i did on that team. then one fucking torn acl later and it’s all gone for me. i had college scouts looking at me and everything. i could’ve escaped this place and lived the real college experience.” he looked out into the water that faced your house. he turned to you and smiled awkwardly. “jeez, i’m sorry i just don’t shut up.”

you chuckle at him, loving how he put some of his walls down around you. “it’s okay, i like hearing ya talk. it’s soothing.” you smile innocently at him.

he gazes into your eyes and nods, his expression softening. “really?” you nod and he just stares at you. “you’re one of a kind, ya know?” his fingers start to rub innocent circles on your leg.

“and why’s that?” you ask him.

“i-i don’t know, i feel like i can be myself around you.” he admits. “don’t ever quote me on that because i’ll deny that shit.” he points, gaining a laugh from you.

“don’t want anyone to know rafe cameron can be a softie?” you tease him.

“shut up, i’m not a softie.”

“i think you can be behind close doors.” you say.

he stops rubbing your leg and turns to you. “oh shut up.”

“well, you’re gonna have to make me then.” you say without thinking.

rafe looks at you with a fire in his eyes that you haven’t seen since the party. “what was that?” he cocks his eyebrow at you.

you just stare into his eyes, straightening your shoulders back. a confidence striking you like never before. “i think you heard me, rafe.”

without missing a beat, rafe connects your lips. all of that pent-up tension, gone within that very second. his hands found his way to your face, cupping it ever so lightly like you were a delicate flower he was so lucky to have found. his hands slowly slid down your body, like he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin. "jesus, this is all i've been thinking about." he said breaking away, looking into your eyes.

"then, don't stop." you say breathlessly, climbing on top of his lap, kissing him again.

you can tell this move took rafe by surprise as he let out a soft moan in the kiss. the innocence he once thought you possessed was now all gone. you slowly began grinding yourself against rafe's clothed cock, which was slightly hardening. "fuck, who knew you had it in you, honey." he said as he kissed down your jaw. you never felt so needier in your life chasing a high with rafe that you thought you could only dream about.

your face blushed as you looked down at rafe who was staring up at you like you were a painting held high in the louvre. the more you looked down, the more self-conscious you became. your pace which was rapidly increasing started to falter. "hey, hey, sweetheart. don't stop now. what's wrong? talk to me." he caressed your face so lovingly.

you bit your lip and closed your eyes, still out of breathe. "i-i-i don't know. what if i'm doing this wrong? or it's weird for you? i'm just nervous, i never did this before."

"did what, sweetheart? dry humped?" he almost laughed, pushing hair out of your face.

you shrugged. "well yes and no..." your voice started to trail off.

"yes and no?" rafe stared at you with a puzzled expression, trying to crack the code. you watched as he deciphered your words and the gears started to turn. "y/n, have you ever been with someone like...sexually before?"

you wanted to cry, the embarrassment being too hard to handle. you just laid your head against rafe's chest and sighed. "please, don't think of me any differently. i just...i just haven't found the right person to do all this with, ya know? i used to be scared but with you...i don't know, i feel ready." rafe sat there in silence, his hands falling to your waist and gripping them. you break away from his chest and stare into his eyes, which have seemed to darken. "rafe?"

"you trust me?" he asks simply. you nod shyly, causing his breath to hitch. you can feel his pants grow tighter under you. "i want you to keep going, do you hear me? don't stop until you cum on my pants." it sounds like he is giving you orders. he brings his thumb across your lip and gives a menacing smirk. "you wanna be all mine, huh? you pretty girl. show me your mine."

with his reassurance, you pick up you begin to rub yourself against his pants. your hands grip his shoulders as he holds you down on him. "good girl, keep it going." the material of his jeans feel rough against your clothed cunt but it adds a sensation you have never felt before. "shit, look at how pretty you look on me. can't wait to bury my cock inside you. would you like that? my cock being so far inside you, you can feel it in your stomach?"

you let out a pathetic whine, your head falling back from the pleasure you have building up inside. "y-yes."

"good girl, but we gotta start with the basics, right?" his hands start to trail up your body, stopping at your closed breasts. he cups them with his hands and smiles when you cry his name. "i got you, baby. c'mon, you know you wanna cum."

you quickly grind against him, feeling desperate as you chase your high. with his words of praise and reassurance, you can feel yourself ready to release. with one quick movement, you feel the tension building up in your stomach release as you cum on rafe. tears prick your eyes as you repeat his name over and over again. "rafe, rafe, rafe."

he stares at you in awe as you finish on him. the sight of your teary eyes and his name falling from your lips in such a needy way pushed him over the edge. he found himself cumming in his pants like he was a high schooler all over again.

you both stayed there, out of breathe, not moving once. you felt like a whole new person even though barely anything has changed.

"you alright?" he asks, pushing hair away from your face.

you tiredly nod, not knowing how to form words. your hooded eyes just take in the view of rafe, his face read and sweaty with a cocky smirk painted across it.

he bites his lip and kisses you gently. "there's more where that came from, you know?" he says and your head reels. "i've been waiting for so long to have you to myself, sweetheart. i don't plan on letting go now."

you giggle into his chest and nod. "don't gotta worry about me leaving, trust me. i've never felt so good in my life." the sweet yet sensual moment you two shared came to a halt when you heard your dad's truck pulling up the gravel road to your house. "shit." you quickly climb off rafe, trying to compose yourself.

your father quickly exited the truck, slamming the door behind him. he seemed to race up to the two of you as you sat there. rafe's hand protectively went over yours as your father approached. "the hell is he doing here?" he fumes.

"d-dad, we're just hanging out." you lie to his face.

"yes sir, that's all we were doing." rafe says camly, looking at him in the eyes.

your father head snaps towards rafe. "was i talking to you, boy? no. stay outta it." his attention focuses back to you. "i told you to not mess with the likings of this boy and what do you do behind my back?" he screams at you. "you go around with this...this hooligan! i want him off my property now. acting like some easy girl, i raised you better."

"b-but, daddy." you pout, trying not to cry as rafe squeezes your hand.

"sir, you're being too hard on her. it's not her fault." rafe tries to calm him down.

your father's finger rests on rafe's chest as he gets close to his face. "oh i know that, rafe. it's you and your typical bullshit. my daughter wouldn't act this way if it wasn't for you. look at you, you're probably using her."

rafe's fists clenched as your father talks down to him, no one does this to him and gets away with it. "sir, i suggest you put that finger down."

"or what?" your father snickers in his face.

rafe's whole demeanor shifts, the sweet boy you were just talking to now gone. like he was never even there. it honestly scared you how fast rafe can change personalities. "you don't even want to know." he grits his teeth. you hate to admit the affect this took on your body, clenching your legs together.

your father drops his finger and turns to you. "inside, now." he says, grabbing your arm. before you can fight him off, he's dragging you away from rafe.

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out." he reassures as you are being brought into your house. "fuck!" he screams as soon as the door slams shut.

you watch as rafe makes his way to his truck, slamming the door shut and driving away. you turn to your father who just stares at you as you cry. "screw you!" you say before running upstairs and locking yourself in your room.

you finally had him and now you lost him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

the days past since you saw rafe.

your father grounded you and cut you off from the outside world.

you sat by your window and waited, having some false hope that rafe would be your knight in shining armor and take you away from this place. your father pulled up the driveway and seemed to struggle getting out of his truck.

you met him at the door, ready to deal with the bullshit he would throw you today. when you opened your door, your father seemed battered and bruised.

"holy sh-i mean...what happened?" you asked, holding the door open for your dad as he sat on the recliner.

"nothing." he shuttered. "nothing happened."

you stood there and crossed your arms. "clearly something happened."

he shook his head, seeming almost fearful. "nothing happened, now drop it." you stood there as he turned to you. "you aren't grounded anymore. your phone is on my dresser." he seemed almost defeated.

you stared at your dad trying to understand what the hell is going on. are you in the twilight zone? you knew you wouldn't get an answer out of him so you grabbed your things and raced out of the house before he could change his mind. the sun was setting but you didn't care, you had one thing and one thing only on your mind.

you got on your bike and raced towards tannyhill. when you finally got there, you threw your bike down and almost ran to the front door. with two knocks, wheezie opened the door.

"y/n?" she said with a smirk.

"hey, wheezie, is rafe home?" you say, snooping around the insides of the home.

she rolls her eyes and opens the door. "in his room."

you walk up the stairs and stop right before his door. your fist hovering over it before connecting it to the wood. after a few seconds, rafe stands there in the almost dark room.

"y/n." he says, almost as though he was expecting you to be here.

you quickly jump into his arms, holding onto him by his neck. you missed this. the way he smelled, the way he felt, everything about this boy drive you wild. "i missed you."

"i missed you too, honey. come on in." he lets you into his room. this was your first time being in here. sure, you've seen it through snapchat and pictures he sends but that's it. it's the typical boy room but it felt authentic. it felt like rafe.

you sit down on his bed as he walks around, picking up clothes off the floor. "didn't think i'd be having guests." he doesn't seem like his usual self, maybe you caught him at a bad time? but he invited you in, so you stayed.

you laugh at him. "no big deal, the old man let me off the hook tonight. it was weird, he came home all messed up. i tried asking but he kinda pushed me away. it was weird."

rafe stood there, silently. "oh really?"

"yeah, super strange. he's not usually the fighter type. never has been." you watch him stand there. "you all good?"

he nods and turns to you. "i am, now that you're here."

you smile at him as he approaches you. you open your legs so he can stand in between them, looking down at you. he traces your face with his finger, stopping at your lips. "all mine, sweetheart. all mine." he says before bending down to kiss you. the kiss feels rough, almost as though you are a fresh breathe of air that rafe has been waiting for. he pushes you down onto his bed and crawls on top of you.

you break the kiss and look into his eyes, his room is dark so you can only make out certain features. but you bring your hand to his face and hold his cheek, which makes him wince. "oh, i'm sorry, did i hurt you?"

"n-no, it's all good." he tries to kiss you again but you stop him.

"rafe?" you ask him, making him stop once again. "what's wrong? tell me."

"goddamn! nothing is wrong, okay? i can't miss you." he says, running a hand through his hair. you try to study his face but can't even see him. you reach over for his bedside lamp. "no, no, leave it of-" before he can stop you, the light is on. his beautiful face has a large bruise under his right eye and cheek. his lip busted and knuckles bruised.

"rafe?" you question, sitting up.

"y/n, i can explain." he pleads.

then it all makes sense. your father coming home all battered and bruised, rafe's current state, you being let off the hook too easily.

"you don't even want to know."

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out."

his words from that night ring through your head. the way his whole demeanor changed that night into a person you've never seen before.

"d-did you?" you ask with teary eyes.

"baby, look at me. i can explain." he begs you but you start to get up.

"explain what? how you beat up my fucking dad!?" you yelled, trying to grasp the millions of thoughts you had. "h-how could you?" you stand by his door, pacing, with your head in your hands.

he walks up to you, grabbing your hand. "look at me, honey, please. look at me." he begs you, trying to grab your attention.

when you finally turn to him, you see the cuts and bruises again. "rafe, why?" you say with a tear slipping down.

"because i love you, honey. you're my girl and i don't give a fuck who it is, they cannot talk to you the way your own father did. calling you easy, acting like your dumb for being around me. nobody should ever talk to you like that, ever." you stop and he cups your face in his hands. "i just wanted to talk to him, okay? all i wanted to do was talk. but then he started again with how i'm a bad person and how you were being stupid for even acknowledging me. he said he didn't need a guy like me corrupting his daughter and i snapped."

you gazed into his eyes, they looked as though they were pleading with you to see why he did what he did.

"please, say something. please." he states.

you sigh and close your eyes. "rafe, i don't need you going around defending my honor, especially to my dad. it's not worth it."

"not worth it? sweetheart, look at me." you open your eyes. "you are worth everything to me, you hear me? everything. i would kill for you if you asked me to. i never had someone care for me the way you do, have someone listen to me, or even treat me normally. you mean the world to me, y/n. i love you."

and there it was.

rafe cameron, for once in his life, showed affection.

he told someone they love them.

"i'm sorry it was your dad, okay? sometimes, i black out and can't remember things when i'm angry. i act on my impulses. but with you, i never feel that way." he shakes his head, trying to contain all his emotions. your eyes water again, causing him to wipe the tears. "what's wrong, baby? talk to me."

you smile through the tears. "i just, i love you too." no one has ever made you feel so safe and loved in one moment than rafe has this past month. he's all you could ever ask for.

he beams down at you, shaking his head. "you mean that?"

"with every ounce of my body, i love you." you admit.

his heart swelled as he connected your lips once more to his. you were all his, all he ever needed in life to feel whole.

rafe pushes you against the door, a light moan slipping from your lips as he presses himself against you.

"you like that?" he asks, a satisfied smirk on his face as he kisses your cheek and goes down your neck.

you nod under his touch, like you're cast in his spell. "y-yes."

"you want more?" he asks, sucking on one spot of your neck for a long time. all you can do is nod, already becoming a mess because of him. he pulls away, having you almost whimper from the lack of contact. "not uh, baby, gotta hear some words out of that beautiful mouth of yours. i'll repeat myself, do you want more."

"y-yes, rafe, yes please."

he groans at your begging and nods. "good girl." he pulls you over to the bed and guides you toward it. you feel the bed hit the back of your knees and you sit down, looking up at him. he quickly takes his shirt off and tosses it to the side.

he kisses your lips lightly as his hands find the end of your shirt, lightly toying with the fabric. "y-you can take it off." with the reassurance, he slips the top off and leaves it next to you. his eyes take in your body, your breasts pooling out of a flimsy green bralette. he sucks his tongue and gently runs his fingers over your tits.

"so pretty and they're all for me." he slowly reaches behind your back and unclasps the bralette with one hand, letting it fall down your body. you could swear rafe has tiny hearts in his eyes as they bore onto your half-naked body. "lay down." you follow his orders and lay against his pillows. his bedroom light shines over his features and the cuts from the fight. you bring your hand up to touch them and he gives into your touch. "you okay?"

"more than okay." you tell him.

he kisses your hand then his lips meet with yours once again. he then lets his lips trail across your cheek, jaw, neck, and down to your chest. he stares at your tits before peppering them both with kisses. he then takes one nipple in his mouth, slowly, and grabs your other one with your free hand to give a squeeze. your body instantaneously reacts to rafe's touch, moaning at the sensation of his lips. "you like that, huh?" he almost teases, switching to the other nipple.

"m-more." you whisper out, clenching your eyes.

"what was that, honey? need you to speak up for me." he grins.

"please, i want more, rafe. touch me more." you raise your voice.

"you got it." his hand leaves your tit and trails slowly down your body, resting at the hem of your jeans. he unbuttons them and lets his hands slide down your underwear, his hands automatically getting soaked. "shit, baby, all this for me?" he runs ins finger down your cunt and gathering your slick, bringing it to his mouth. he sucks it off his fingers as you watch in awe. "you're just too sweet for me, you know that?"

he doesn't even give you time to think before he puts his fingers back inside you, swirling your cunt. your hands grab his shoulders, holding onto them for dear life. "it's okay, i got ya, i always got ya." he reassures as he slowly slips one finger into your tight hole. "jesus, honey, with a hole this tight i don't know how long i'll last." he says as he slips his finger in and out of you, his thumb still toying with your clit.

your head falls back as more moans fall from your lips. "more, rafe, please give me more."

he laughs slightly. "cocky little thing, aren't ya? if you insist." he adds one more finger, your hole clenching around him as his finger slip in and out. "look how pretty you look with my fingers inside of you." he says before kissing your mouth, collecting your moans. you're so wet you hear the noises your pussy is making around him. you feel overstimulated as rafe keeps going, not stopping once. tears prick your eyes as you feel your high approaching. his thumb rubs harder as your nails connect to rafe's chest, dragging them down. "my pretty baby, i just love you so much." he says, staring at you.

with those words, you feel yourself being pushed to pleasure. you cum all over rafe's fingers, crying out his name. "rafe!"

he lets you ride out your high before taking his fingers out and putting them in his mouth like he did before. "never gonna get tired of that."

he gets up and heads to the bathroom. you want to talk to him, ask him where he's going, but you're too tired. you've never felt this good, not even from your own fingers. rafe comes back with a towel in his hand, gently, he pulls off your shorts and panties, cleaning off your pussy. the water is nice and warm as he gets you situated. he drops the rag and crawls into his bed next to you, holding you tightly.

"you know, if you want me to go dow-" but before you can finish that sentence he kisses your forehead.

"no need to rush there, honey. i wanna take my time with you, wanna show you how good i can make you feel." your heart melts in your chest as he rubs your back lightly. "get some rest, alright?"

you fall asleep fast in his arms, he holds you there the entire night and doesn't plan on letting go.

[prlssprfctn]

I think Jason should be allowed to manipulate his family with the "oh, you are my favourite, actually" line. It sounds very flattering to them (because Jason? Jason-I-Want-Nothing-To-Do-With-This-Family-Todd? Admitting you are his favourite? Oh, the hundred per cent bust of ego!) and more to say, this system of manipulation is eternal.

They can argue with each other as much as they want, but none of them would believe the other — Jason Todd is too tsundere to say something like this aloud, to each of them. So, someone is lying. For sure.

(And they are too self-assured in themselves to doubt that they are his favourite. Also, Jason makes every manipulation, specifically individual. So, it is not like he repeats the same confession and reasons. Very believable. Aka: this family needs someone to be open about their love, so they latch on everything and everyone who is willing to admit that openly)

Dick, slightly frustrated: Why are you asking me this favour? You know, I don't usually do these sort of things, I don't really... I don't know, it is too dangerous, I don't like the whole idea.

Jason, face dropping: Oh... Sorry. I shouldn't ask you, just... Dunno, I thought since you are my only big brother, and... Urgh, I guess I am still too attached to you more than to others. You are right. I'll ask Timbers or—

Dick, with his eyes suspiciously wet: oh-

Dick: NO, no. I'll do it. Don't worry. Big brother got your back, Lil Wing!

Tim, frowning: So, am I getting this right — you want me to hack into some system in someone's high school to fix the diploma of a kid who got a ONE bad grade—

Jason: He needs this scholarship. He is a kid of the streets! He can't do it otherwise, and it is not like the world would collapse if you fix one grade!

Tim: Yeah, I don't care about morals, I am just confused. Why would I want to spend my time on this, I am pretty sure—

Jason, dead ass serious: You know I don't like to communicate with this family. I only ever love talking with you, so sue me for thinking you could do me a favour.

Tim, instantly smirking: Ah, so I am your favourite... Well-well, big brother, I guess I can do this.

Damian: I am *not* going to tell you what our father is planning to do with this specific villain. Who do you think I am? An idiot?

Jason, sighing: Damn, and I really thought we had each other's back since League of Assassins.

Damian, scoffing: Emotional manipulation will not work on me.

Jason, all confused: Why would I manipulate you? From all people? I didn't raise you to fall on shit like this.

Damian: Tt.

Damian: Fine. Since, I guess, I owe you for babysitting me...

Bruce: Jason, I appreciate your... strive to help me, but nothing has ever gone well when you worked on cases like that. Let me handle this, and—

Jason, silently sitting down on the armchair, hands on his head: (sniff)

Bruce, panicked: Jaylad?..

Jason: I get it. I really do. No matter how much I love you, no matter how much I keep choosing you over anyone in this family, you don't love me anymore. I really understand it. I... I came in peace with it. I just wished you would tolerate my work... a little bit. You know?

Bruce: No, no, sweetheart, I— I am your favourite?

Jason, sniffling angrily: Who else it could be, old man?

Bruce: Oh. Oh, Jaylad— (instantly hands him the case)

(The family dinner)

Bruce, mentally humming to himself: Oh, these kids have NO idea that I am Jason's favourite because we are connected like that ^•^

Dick, mentally beaming: Oh, no one here has an idea that I am Jason's favourite because I am his big brother and protector! :>

Tim, mentally laughing evilly: Oh, these flops have no idea that I am Jason's favourite and that he wishes I was his Robin!

Damian, mentally kicking his feet: None of my family members suspect that I am Akhi's favourite because he was practically my nanny through all childhood. Tt.

Jason, munching on food: Lol

[0mg-bird]

Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader

Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.

“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.

Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.

Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.

“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.

“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.

Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.

By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.

“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.

“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed.

Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.

As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”

Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”

“I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”

Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”

Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.

His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”

“She’s not fake!”

~~~~~~~

“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.

Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.

Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.

“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.

“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.

You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. “Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”

Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”

Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.

You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.

As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.

You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over his upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.

“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.

You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.

“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.

“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”

You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”

“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.

“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”

He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”

Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.

“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”

“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”

He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”

“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.

His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.

Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.

As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.

“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”

He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.

~~

Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.

“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.

“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.

“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”

You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.

By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.

Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.

“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.

A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.

“What?”

“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.

Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”

You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.

“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.

Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.

Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.

You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.

“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.

“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.

Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.

“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.

“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”

The crew grows a sour look.

“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.

Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.

“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.

“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.

The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.

When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.

“Where you goin’?” He questions.

“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.

He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.

His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.

“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.

Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”

They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”

“What?!”

[kashverse]

how would babykuna fend off a man getting too friendly with mamakuna?👹

life, in all its wonder, occasionally presents moments no one asks for—like unsolicited masculinity at the grocery store.

there you were, simply trying to decide between two brands of pasta, when a voice intruded upon your peaceful existence. "you know," said a man who smelled suspiciously of overpriced cologne and misplaced confidence, "most people don’t realize there’s a huge difference between keto and gluten-free."

ah. one of those men.

you turned, already bracing yourself. "oh. uh, yeah."

"it’s actually fascinating," he continued, leaning way too close to your personal space. "keto is all about low-carb intake, while gluten-free is more about avoiding wheat proteins. a lot of people think they’re the same, but i make it a point to educate whenever i can."

babykuna, sitting proudly in the shopping cart, had been silently observing this disaster unfold. her tiny hands gripped the metal frame, her little brows furrowed in utter disdain.

this...this was unacceptable. mama was under attack. and until papa arrived, she had to be the hero. she sucked in a dramatic breath and let out a long, exaggerated "eeewwwwww."

the man blinked. "uh—"

babykuna wrinkled her nose like she had just smelled something truly foul. "mamaaaa, he stiiiiiiiinks."

you cleared your throat, trying (and failing) to suppress your amusement. "baby, that's not—"

"yes, it is," she cut in, now pointing at the man like he was an exhibit at a zoo. "he smells like...like..." she thought for a second, then gasped. "yucky cheese!"

the man visibly bristled. "i—uh, i don’t think that’s—"

"yucky, stinky cheese," she confirmed, nodding sagely. then, just to make things worse, she waved a tiny hand in front of her nose, scrunching her face in an oscar-worthy performance of disgust.

you sighed, switching to polite rejection mode. "listen, i really appreciate the...um, food science lesson, but I’m just here to shop with my daughter—"

"papa’s coming," babykuna cut in, her tone warning.

and oh, how those words sent a ripple of cosmic dread into the universe.

because just as the man opened his mouth to press whatever point he thought he had, a shadow loomed over the scene.

sukuna.

tall. broad. wearing his usual look of mild menace. he took one glance at the situation—his wife looking vaguely annoyed, his daughter puffed up like an offended cat, some random guy standing too close—and placed a single hand on the cart.

"hey, babe," he said casually, eyes fixed on the man like a wolf sizing up its next meal. "who’s this?"

the man, suddenly realizing the error of his ways, took a sharp step back. "oh, i was just—uh—talking about—"

"stinky cheese," babykuna supplied, nodding solemnly. sukuna smirked. "oh yeah?" he turned to you. "you makin’ friends?"

"not particularly," you deadpanned.

the man fumbled. "i—uh, actually, i just remembered I have to—uh—go get, um, kale. yeah. kale." and just like that, he disappeared down the aisle, never to be seen again. babykuna sighed, relieved. "phew. he almost touched mama with his stink."

sukuna chuckled, ruffling her hair. "good lookin’ out, kid."

and with that, the three of you continued your shopping trip, the crisis of stinky cheese man officially averted.

[classyrbf]

WE'RE JUST FRIENDS! — SHOKO IEIRI

SYNOPSIS...since high school you and shoko have been known to be two peas in a pod, the bestest of friends but only you two know what happens behind closed doors

INFO...shoko x fem!reader, top!shoko, phone sex(?), vibrators, fingering, oral (reader!receiving), hidden relationship, praise, sweet ending, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Since high school you and Shoko were always known as the two girls around jujutsu high. Dare I say, you were the female version of Gojo and Geto. You and Shoko instantly clicked, always joking and laughing, messing around with Geto and Gojo just for the fun of it. Sometimes, you two would sneak around behind the school to share a cigarette. It wasn’t until both of you graduated that you ended up finding her attractive. She grew her hair out longer, started embracing her role in the jujutsu society and you’d always steal glances from her.

The accidental hand touching as she breezed past you, the little smirks she’d give you across the room when a higher up was yapping her ear off. It was until about 4 years of yearning that both of you finally caught the hint. Well, you caught the hint. Shoko always had a thing for you, at least that’s what you found out when she was knuckles deep in your pussy.

“I’ve always liked you, y/n.” She smiled against your skin, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Her fingers massaged your g-spot as she whispered in your ear. “I was starting to think that maybe you didn’t like me back, you know? But now look at you,” she chuckled, turning her gaze toward your sopping pussy.

One hookup led to two and then another and then another. You and Shoko became absolutely addicted to each other. It got to the point where you couldn’t even make yourself cum if you weren’t thinking about her. Sometimes you’d even call her late hours in the night just to hear her voice, asking her to help you cum.

“You’re so close aren’t you, baby?” She cooed. “You need my help, huh? Yeah?” She smiled to herself as she heard you whimper out her name. “Facetime me, I wanna watch.” In just mere second you were facetiming her while she sat at her desk going over some stupid paper work that she couldn’t care less about right now. “Look at how fucking wet you are because of me. Go ahead and keep rubbing your clit. Get right on the fucking edge.”

Each time, you came so hard just because of her. You wanted more and more each time, wanted to show her how much you needed her right there with you.

Each time you, her, Geto, and Gojo hung out, it was almost like nothing ever happened. The boys never became suspicious of anything because you and Shoko kept treating each other like you have all those past years. Like friends. Talking about the latest fashion, that new movie with the controversial actor, complaining about your job, things that friends would normally talk about.

But later on, you’d drive to the middle of an empty field, too eager to make it back to the house, her mouth around your nipples, licking, sucking and biting while you moaned and whimpered like a bitch in heat. “You looked so pretty in this skirt today.” She smile up at you, pecking your lips.

“I wore it for you,” you muttered between moans.

“Yeah? How thoughtful of you to give me easy access to this pretty pussy.” She sloppily kissed between your breasts and down your stomach while her fingertips pulled at the hem of your panties.

“Sho, what if someone catches us out—mmmph—here!” You sit up on your elbows, breathing heavily as she tosses your panties on the car floor and pushes your skirt up. She completely ignores your question, laying her tongue flat on your clit. “Oh fuckkk.” And suddenly all your worries went away.

Recently, all the jujustu sorcerers and anyone involved in the jujustu society were invited to a party. Of course you had to go and everyone else as well despite you lacking the energy to stand around and talk to people you didn’t know all day.

When you arrived, you hung out with your usual group. People you went to high school with. Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Haibara, Utahime, and of course Shoko. You damn near choked on your drink when she walked through the doors. Her makeup looked like it prepared by the gods and her dress hugged her figure so good it felt like your eyes were about to pop out of your head if your stared too long.

Shoko could say the same about you, the color you were wearing complimented your skin tone perfectly and gloss that made your lips shine under the light had her wanting to kiss and bite them right then and there. “Hey guys!” She simply greeted.

Hours went by already, boredom plaguing your mind as you watched Geto and Gojo act a fool on the dance floor, drunk out of there minds. Nanami had snuck out early, which you can’t blame him for. Haibara was chatting it up with Utahime in a corner for seemed like an hour now and that only left you and Shoko.

“Having fun?” She leaned towards you, sipping from her glass.

“No. My feet are killing me and this dress is too damn tight.” You shifted in the fabric, gripping your champagne glass tighter. You could feel her eyes rake over your entire body, but dare didn’t turn in her direction.

“Your ass looks great by the way. Maybe I’ll help you get out that dress later tonight?” She raised a brow, waiting for a response.

“Shoko, hush!” You looked around the room to see if anyone had heard which made her laugh.

“Who gives a fuck if anyone hears. Two girls fucking, so what? People need to get with the times.” She shook her head. “They’re missing out.” A sigh left her lips.

“What are you saying?” A smirked tugged at the corner of your lips as you leaned against the bar.

“I’m saying, you’re great in bed, hot stuff. We’ve been having sex for what…? 2 years now?” She reached into her clutch, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. “Wanna smoke?” She nodded her head in the direction of the balcony.

“Fuck it.” You two both walked outside, the music playing over the speakers began fading, replaced with the annoying sounds of crickets and the occasional owl hooting somewhere in the trees. She lit the cigarette, taking the first drag before handing it over to you.

“So how long are we gonna keep up this ‘just friends’ act, huh?” She asked, watching you blow out the excess smoke. “We’re nearly together every day, fucking every week, if not every day.” She grabs the cigarette from between your fingers.

“Are you saying you wanna date me, Ieri Shoko?” You tease, smiling at her. “The Ieiri Shoko wants to date someone? I thought you didn’t like labels?”

“Oh fuck off,” she laughed, waving her hand at you. “Yeah, yeah, I said what I said, but can a girl not change her mind?” She turned to look at you, her eyes boring into yours as she put out the cigarette, tossing it. You looked away nervously, smiling down at the floor. “How about we say fuck this party and go back to mine, huh? Maybe it’ll help you think of an answer.”

As soon as you and Shoko made it to her apartment, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. She messily kissed you, hastily pulling down the straps of your dress while kicking her heels off and tossing her clutch to the floor. “I want you so fucking bad, all of the time,” she said between kisses.

Within minutes you were on her bed, sitting between her legs as she had a vibrator pressed to your pussy, her other hand twisting and pulling at your hard nipples. “Fuckkk, Shoko!” You gasped, legs twitching as the waves of pleasure shooting through your body. “I’m gonna fucking cum!” You moan.

She rubbed the vibrator up and down your clit, massaging it into your poor, sensitive pussy. “Getting desperate, baby?” She craned her neck down, her lips connecting with yours, kissing you with such fervor. You grinded your hips into the vibrator, moaning into her mouth as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly. She pulled away from the kiss, spit connecting to both of your lips as she stared into your eyes with such lust and desire. “You cumming? Yeah? Yeah, there you go let it out. Yes!” She smiled, lifting her head to watch how your body writhed above her and your heavenly moans bounced off the walls of her bedroom.

She turned off the vibrator, tossing it to the side. Her fingers grazed over your pussy, tapping it lightly, hearing your wetness as you begged to be fucked. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” She kissed down your neck, teasing your entrance with her fingers, pushing them in and out slowly.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” you breathy chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? I can show you a tease.” She began reaching into her beside drawer.

“No, no! I was kidding!” You laugh, pulling her arm back. “Come here.” You gather strength to sit upright, facing towards her. Her cheeks are tinted pink and her skin was glowing under the light. “I think you’re beautiful too.” You cup her face in your hands.

“Getting all sappy on me now?” She pulled you onto her lap so you were straddling her.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, smiling as you leaned into the kiss. This time it wasn’t rushed or sloppy. You felt every moment, every movement, and every thought. Shoko deepened the kiss, pulling you closer against her chest, hugging you tighter. Your tongues moved against each other slowly, biting and sucking on her bottom lip before pulling away. “I like doing this with you.”

“Yeah?” She asked, you nod in return. “Does that mean what I think it means?” She dragged her index finger along your jaw.

“If we’re talking about the same thing, then yes—mmph!” She kissed you again with so much force, your back hit the plush comforter beneath you.

“I’m even more turned on knowing you’re mine now. Fuck me,” she said in disbelief.

“Well who said we had to stop?” You bite your lip, sitting up on your elbows. Shoko stared at you for few seconds and without saying a word, her hands gravitated to your thighs, spreading them apart, wasting zero time in putting her face in your pussy. A small gasp escapes your throat when she gently kisses your clit, the tip of her tongue rolling it in circles. “God, Sho!” You fall back on the bed, stuck in the blissful headspace.

The flat of her tongue works its way through your soppy folds, licking up your juices and tasting them on her tongue. She watches the way your face contorts in pleasure, your hands reaching up to play with your tits, pulling at your taut nipples. She sucks on your clit for little, earning a high pitched moan from you, smirking at your reaction. She knows how sensitive it still must be.

“Pussy tastes so good, baby. Mmm,” she moans, slurping on your clit and your folds, spitting directly onto your cunt before licking it back up again.

“Yes, yes, just like that!” You nod, biting down on your lip as you watch the way she eats your pussy like a pro. “Feels so fucking good.” Your toes curl as you hook your hands under your legs, pulling them back farther. “Yes, fuck!” Your eyes roll back when she pulls back the hood your clit, exposing it which made all the more difference.

“Play with those pretty tits for me, baby.” She lifts her head to catch her breath, her lips and chin coated in your slick. She looks so fucking good it makes you even more wet. You reach your hand up once more, cupping your breast and pulling at your nipple while she watches with a smile. “Good girl.” He her hot tongue swirls around your swollen clit once more, messily eating your pussy cause that’s how she knows you like it.

“I’m so close, baby, right fucking there, Sho.” Your jaw drops open, your hand finding home in her hair, pushing her face in deeper. “Shit, shit! Yes, I’m so fucking close!” You gasp, rutting your hips against her face like a bitch in heat. Shoko hums in amusement, looking up at you, making direct eye contact, wanting to watch you cum on her tongue. “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Your legs shake uncontrollably, grabbing a fistful of her hair tighter as you come undone. Your back into the mattress, still coming down from your orgasm. “Oh fuck,” you breathe.

Shoko finally lifts her head, pleased with herself, the biggest smile on her face. “You still alive, hot stuff?” She hovers over you.

“Barely.” You murmur, looking at her through your hazy state. “How do you always make me cum that hard?” You groaned, chest heaving up and down.

“Um, I have my ways.” She jokes, falling beside you. She softly kisses your shoulder. “Need some water or something?” She asks softly.

“Not right now. I can’t even think straight.” You flip over, facing her.

“I made you cum so hard I rewired your brain? That’s new.” She said with a hint of sarcasm. You playfully shoved her shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” She pulled you in close to her. “So does this mean—”

“That we get to tell Geto and Gojo. Yes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were also dating each other.” You furrowed your brows at the thought of it.

“You’re oddly right. Gojo was damn near twerking on Geto earlier.” Shoko stared up at the ceiling, running her fingers over your skin.

“Wait, really?!” You asked with sudden surprise.

“You didn’t see? Geto got real close behind Gojo. One inch more and boom! Contact.” Shoko nodded, trying to hold in her laugh.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the thought of Gojo twerking especially on Geto. “Oh my gosh! Just imagine Gojo throwing it back for Geto!” You cackled, Shoko laughing in return.

“Oh no! Do not put that image in my mind!” She cringed, clenching her eyes shut.

“Maybe Geto slips him a twenty for a lap dance. You never know,” you roll over laughing, barely able to breathe.

“Oh my goodness! Shut up!” Shoko covers her mouth, pushing you away from her. “Stop! I can’t!”

“Okay, okay,” you breathe heavily, scooting closer to her again. “I’ll stop.” You rest your head on her shoulder again.

She kisses the top of your head. “I love this. I’ll never get tired of it. The laughs, the sex, your warmth, your smile. You.”You sit up to look at her with a complex expression. “What?”

“Since when did you get all poetic with your words? I guess the sex must’ve rewired your brain too—” Shoko rolls her eyes at your words, covering your mouth with her hand.

“I try to be all lovey dovey and this is what I get? Sickening.”

[calwoso]

disappointment

you show up on your sister's doorstep in the middle of the night with no explanation

Someone is knocking on their door, incessantly and loudly. Which would be a bit odd at any time of day considering most people would use the intercom outside the apartment building so Caro and Marta would know they were coming up.

It’s made worse now, because it’s a little before 4am and who the fuck is knocking on the door?

The sound stops as Caro steps closer, peering up to the peephole to see who is on the other side. Behind Marta has grabbed the heaviest object she could find, a lamp, holding it tightly between both hands prepared to swing.

But Caro deflates as she sees who is on the other side before rushing to unlock the door and swing it open to haul you inside.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” She hisses as she shuts the door behind you, locking it once more.

“Wow, nice to see you too.” You grin. “You took your time answering the door.”

“It’s the middle of the night.” Caro snaps. “How did you get here?”

“A plane, mostly.” You pause to peer behind your sister to where Marta is standing with the lamp in one hand. “Hi Marta, sorry for waking you. Nice pyjamas!”

A bubble of laughter escapes the Spaniard even as Caro continues to glare at you. The pyjamas had been a bit of a joke present from Caro, adorned with little Barcelona crests that she actually cherished.

“Focus!” Caro pokes your shoulder to draw your attention back to you. “What are you doing here?”

“So I can’t visit my sister, now?” You snark back, you shoulder past her and stride into the apartment flicking on lights as you go. “This is nice, why didn’t you tell me you’d moved?”

“It’s Marta’s place-“ Caro begins, mouthing an apology to her partner as she follows you as you make yourself at home on the sofa. “Wait, how did you get here if you didn’t know I’d moved?”

“Oh, well I went to your old apartment and when you didn’t answer the intercom I just tried your teammates until one of them woke up. Have you got anything to eat? I’m starving.” You can see the moment your sister seriously contemplates strangling you.

But then Marta’s hand is squeezing at her shoulder and some of the murderous intention leaves Caro. The Spaniard disappears towards the kitchen to fix you something to eat and you keep talking.

“You should probably apologise to Frido for not telling me you’d moved. She was the one who answered in the end.” You stifle a yawn.

“I should apologise? I’m not the one who woke her up!” Caro throws her hands up. “Why didn’t you just call me and tell me you wanted to visit, we could’ve arranged something better than this.”

You hesitate for a beat. “Can’t a girl be spontaneous! I would’ve called when I landed but my phone was dead.”

Your sister eyes you suspiciously for a moment before sighing that same sigh that seems to be endemic to your family whenever they are faced with you.

She slumps onto the sofa next to you, yawning widely and you do at least look a bit guilty at waking her up at this hour. You have always liked to prod and poke at your sister to get reactions, she called you insufferable, you called it part of your charm.

But you didn't now, mostly because Caro looked halfway back to sleep already, and you knew when to be mature...sometimes. When Marta reappears with a small plate of leftovers from dinner, she settles it on the coffee table, her gaze lingering on Caro first and then you.

"Go back to bed, amor. We've got to be up in a few hours." Marta tells her partner gently.

"Yeah, amor, wouldn't want you to sleep through kickoff." You chime in, already helping yourself to the food in front of you. You duck, mouth full of food, just in time for Caro's lazy swing for your head to breeze by.

"Oye, no fighting." Marta chastises although she can't help but grin. "Caro, bed. You - be quiet for once and eat." She tells you sternly as Caro gives you one last withering look before disappearing.

Marta waits until most of your plate was clear before speaking.

"You want to tell me why you're here?" She asks eventually.

You speak enough Spanish to talk to your sister's partner. It had been something you had made a point of learning the first time you'd met the woman a couple of years ago. It seemed only fair when, even back then, she had been trying her best to speak Norweigan to you and your family - stilted though it was.

(And besides, Caro seemed smitten with her and if Marta meant that much to your sister than you wanted to make her feel welcome too. Although that information would have to pried out of your cold, dead hands before you admitted it.)

"I missed Caro's sunshine demeanour." You grin even as Marta rolls her eyes. "Besides, that looked like some impressive lamp swinging I saw you gearing up for. How could I miss that?"

Usually, Marta was easy to make laugh. You liked the Spaniard immensely, she was in all ways, the polar opposite to your sister. She was easy to talk to, funny, personable and always smiling.

Except now, now she looked uncharacteristically serious.

"Talk, nena." She tells your firmly.

You stretch your arms above your head for a long moment, whilst you thought about what to say.

"Can't a girl just...exist? Spontaneity! Adventure! Seizing the-"

"Seizing the day does not involve terrorising Frido at 3am." Marta interrupts, although the corners of her mouth twitched a little at the idea of it.

"It could do." You reason with a smile, faltering when Marta raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you. "I just wanted to see my sister, is that such a bad thing?" Your voice wavers just a fraction at the end, a barely there break in it that you would deny vehmently.

And your ever present smile slips a bit too. The Spaniard watches you for a moment as you shift in your seat before offering a hand to haul you to your feet.

"Come on, trouble." She sighs. "Sleep first, talking tomorrow. You can come with us to the match and watch. Caro will like that."

You go easily, letting Marta point you in the direction of the bathroom and the guest room before bidding her a goodnight, if only for a few hours.

You awoke too few hours later to the pillow being wrenched from underneath your head and then it flying back down to smash you in the face.

"What the fuck?" You glare up at your sister who stands over you, arms crossed and looking seriously pissed.

"Watch your language." She snaps.

"I'm 18!" You complain, trying to roll over and go back to sleep.

"Only by a few months! Besides, you want to act like an adult, maybe you can explain to me why Mamma called me in hysterics this morning because you had disappeared from the house without a trace."

"Well I came here, I thought that answer was obvious." You snap back, immediately regretting it when you realise you were trapped in this room with a now furious Caroline.

As kids, Caro and your brother had fought non-stop, but you had, for the most part, always been left out of it. In part because you didn't have that same competitive drive as the other two which led to so many arguments. But also being a good 12 years younger than Caro had meant she was constantly reminded not to fight with you in case she hurt you. It's not your fault if you took that advantage and ran with it by pissing her off at every opportunity.

Now though, you were fucked because Caro looked even more furious than she did at 4am. You were in actual fear for your life. You could see the way Caro had to force herself to suck in a calming breath.

"Call Mamma and tell her you're fine - and then get ready. We leave in 15 minutes." She just about manages to get out through gritted teeth before storming from the room.

You didn't want to be here, it felt too familiar even though the crowd was bigger than you were perhaps used to as a child. But it was all the same, gather round and watch your sister - the superstar - play football.

It made an ugly part of you bitter, warring with the part that was and always had been immensely proud to be Caro's baby sister.

You tried not to be offended when Caro had sat you down in the stands far before the match and told you to stay put without so much as looking at you. But then Vicky had appeared, injured and out of action today, and apprehensively told you in stilted English that she was supposed to be watching you.

"I'm pretty sure we're the same age." You replied in Spanish with a small grin when she looked relieved to be spoken to in a language she understands. "You don't have to babysit me. Caro's just pissed off."

It seems Vicky doesn't quite know what to say to that and the pair of you sit in silence whilst you watch the teams warm up. Only when the teams disappear back down the tunnel does Vicky say anything else.

"So how long are you visiting for?" She asks.

"Don't know...until Caro has enough of me, which will probably be tomorrow." You laugh. "Not got anything to go back to Norway for, my schedule is wide open."

Yeah, wide open and it's all your fault, you remind yourself grimly. But it makes Vicky laugh too and so you keep trying to do that instead of focusing on what will happen after the game is over.

You make Vicky laugh and you let her talk your ear off about the match when it starts, and at the end she even leads you down to the pitch where she introduces you to some of the other younger players. You like meeting new people, everyone is impressed with your Spanish, and it has the added benefit of prolonging your life because there's no way your sister can kill you in front of these many people. Even if she keeps glaring at you from a few feet away where she stands beside Marta.

It's nice and it's easy and talking to people is about the only thing you're good at. Drawing laughs out of the players makes you feel accomplished for the first time in a long time.

And you try not to let the disappointment show when everyone begins to head down the tunnel to shower and change and you're left alone once more.

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

this is my first ever fic, i'd love to continue this but i am v much testing the waters with this first

[sistertotheknowitall]

Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

[lascvitae]

FANTASIZE ✵ YU JIMIN.

❀ ༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ alt. I FANTASIZE ABOUT IT ALL THE

TIME IF YOU WERE MINE .ᐟ

ᝰ.ᐟ she said you were just gonna smoke. you said you didn’t wear the dress for her. you were both lying.

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. nerd g!p!karina x kinda mean fem!reader ᝰ.ᐟgenre. smut (18+) there’s some plot tho 🙂‍↕️ ᝰ.ᐟwarning(s). cursing, drinking, smoking, karina’s had a crush on reader since forever, dom!karina, she’s kinda mean && rough, pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl), cunnilingus, reader’s kinda bratty, creampie, karina’s lowk a munch

ᝰ.ᐟ word count 8k

masterlist.

aeri’s place is packed. that’s no surprise.

she throws the kind of parties that people talk about for weeks. too many people, loud music, low lights, and expensive drinks that she didn’t even pay for. there’s a suspicious cloud of smoke leaving the balcony.

you walk inside with ning close to your side, nails dug into your forearm. she’s already tipsy (somehow), and you can tell by the way she’s smiling at everyone.

“we gotta drink. you’ve been so focused on midterms all week.” she says immediately, yanking you to the kitchen.

“i had practice.” you say in an uninterested tone.

“whatever. you’re not allowed to be boring tonight.” she’s already dragging you to the kitchen.

“try this.” ning hands you a red cup and you take it without question, giving her a lazy glance. you take one sip before taking another, downing it in one go. the liquor burns as it slides down your throat.

“what’s this?” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and tilt your head.

she shrugged. “jake made it.”

you raise an eyebrow. “jake’s here?”

she smiled. “in the living room. he already challenged aeri to a shot contest.”

“and?” you hum, slightly interested.

“she’s winning. by a lot.”

“obviously.”

you smirk a little, both of you leaning into eachother in that way that says you’ve been through a lot together.

but still, the party is loud. bodies are packed shoulder to shoulder and the bass is shaking your entire body.

you scan the room, looking for someone else to talk to. or someone else that has tried to speak to you in class before.

and then you see her.

jimin.

she’s standing by the wall, awkwardly between the bookshelf and a dying houseplant. she’s holding a cup like it might blow up if she squeezes it too hard.

she’s dressed like she didn’t mean to come. she’s not talking to anyone.

you tilt your head, gaze lingering.

“you’re staring.” ning sings in your ear.

“i’m not.”

“you are. that’s the girl from your lit class, right? the one who got the higher midterm grade?”

“don’t remind me.” you roll your eyes. but you’re still looking.

“didn’t think anyone could outscore you.” ning laughs.

you’re still watching her. her eyes flick around the room like she’s trying to find an excuse to leave. you wonder how she even got here. you wonder who even invited her.

suddenly, jimin looks over at you. and instead of looking away, she holds it.

you hold her gaze, curious. waiting. testing.

then she looks down, cheeks turning pink.

cute.

you let the smallest smirk curve your lips.

you should leave her alone. she didn’t even mean to come.

but there’s something about the way that she looked away, like she wasn’t supposed to get caught staring. it makes it too easy. too tempting.

so you hand ning your empty cup, smoothing out your outfit and start moving across the room.

your steps are slow. people glance over, pretending not to look again when they realize who you are.

jimin doesn’t notice you at first. she’s prentending to scroll through her phone.

she’s prettier up close. you knew that.

you stop a step too close. close enough to make her stiffen then glance up.

her eyes widen slightly.

“didn’t think i would see you here.” you said.

“oh. um. yeah. i didn’t think i’d— i mean, i wasn’t going to come.”

“i can tell.” you tilt your head, letting your eyes drag over her outfit.

she flushed, looking down at her drink.

you almost laugh.

“you’re karina, right?” you ask like you don’t already know.

“i— yeah. i didn’t think you knew my name.” she looks up surprisingly.

“i know a lot of things.”

there’s silence and she’s clearly unsure if you’re flirting or making fun of her.

“i liked your essay. the one about obsession and restraint. that was you, right?”

“yeah. that was for the—“

“yeah. i know what class. you’re smart.” you say, licking your bottom lip.

she doesn’t answer right away. she just stares as if she could scare you off.

or maybe she’s afraid that you would stay.

you lean in more. your voice is low as if you were bored.

“you don’t really fit in here.”

she looks towards the crowd then back at you.

“i guess not.”

“this isn’t really your scene, huh?”

“i… don’t usually come to stuff like this.”

“let me guess. you came because someone dragged you out of your room? told you to loosen up?”

jimin just stares like that was exactly what happened.

“you’re predictable.”

“you barely know me.” she frowns just a little.

“don’t i?” you raise an eyebrow.

she opens her mouth before closing it. “you think you do.”

that makes you smile. you feel something in your stomach when she said it with just the tiniest bit of bite.

“i know enough.”

she stares at you.

“is this really what you wear when you want attention, though? because, baby… it’s not working.”

her breath catches and you can see her fingers twitch around her cup.

you smile again. the kind that says you know she’s flustered.

“cute doesn’t get you far at parties like this.”

“then why are you talking to me?” she looks up, startled.

“because i wanted to.” you say it easily like this is just a game for you.

maybe it is. that’s what jimin can’t stand.

she swallows.

“i’m not some… thing for you to play with. i don’t care if you’re popular— or hot, or whatever you think you are.” her voice is steadier than you expected.

you stare.

“hot? didn’t know you thought that.” you tilt your head.

jimin’s mouth opens and she blushes again. “that’s not what i—“

you take a step closer. “you sure? because you’ve been staring like you want to say something else.”

she swallows again. hard. but her eyes stay on you.

“i don’t like people like you. the kind who talk like everything’s already theirs.”

“and what if i said i like people who push back?”

jimin stares and her breath hitches.

“i like the way you talk when you’re mad. makes me wonder what you’d sound like if i really got to you.”

her eyes go wide. she holds back the urge to bite her lip.

and then—

“y/n!” ning’s voice calls out.

you pull away and you don’t even look back as you walk towards ning.

jimin is still watching you. of course she is.

you find ning in the living room, sprawled out on the couch with aeri practically draped over her shoulder. they look like they’ve been there for hours even though the party really started an hour ago.

“you’re back. took your time.” ning smiled.

aeri lifted her head, lip gloss slightly smudged. “y/nieeeee. tell me why jake tapped out after four shots. four! what happened to men being strong?” she slurred.

“gone with the patriarchy.” you mutter, taking a drink from the coffee table without even asking what it is.

ning watches you sip then she squints. “kay… what happened?”

“nothing.”

“you’re smiling like something happened.”

“i’m always smiling.”

“not like that.”

you raise your eyebrow but she’s already looking past you. “you talk to your little class crush?”

you don’t answer.

aeri hiccups beside her. “wait, who? the smart one with the face? with the eyes? the one who gets straight a’s?”

“karina.” you laugh.

“jimin. you like her. you wanna push her against a bookshelf and ruin her gpa.” she says dramatically.

“jesus. aeri, shut up.” ning laughs, covering her mouth.

“am i wrong?” she shrugs and sips her drink like it’s tea.

you just smirk behind your cup.

“she’s not your type.” ning says.

“i don’t have a type. i get what i want.”

“she looked like she was about to pass out.” ning mumbles but you can see the grin on her lips.

“she’ll be fine. she’s interesting.” you lean back, fully relaxing.

“uh huh. you’re not thinking about the final anymore, huh?” ning nudges your thigh with hers.

“nope.”

“good. now let loose a little. that’s an order.”

you hum, eyes drifting across the room. jimin is still in the same spot and she’s still holding the same drink like she doesn’t know what to do with it.

she’s talking to someone now. you can’t tell who, all you can see is how stiff her posture is.

you tilt your head, the taste of your drink still on your tongue.

she’s shy.

but you want to know what she sounds like when she’s not. when she’s desperate. when she has nothing left to say but your name.

and just like that, you decide you’re not done with her tonight.

��・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

the living room is beyond hazy. the weeknd is playing now and the lights are almost low enough that the glow of someone’s vape looks like a strobe.

you’re sitting on the arm of the couch with your drink, hand lazily resting on jake’s shoulder. he’s talking, saying something about a failed midterm and a girl from his econ class, but you’re not listening. you’re laughing at all the right parts though.

jake eats it up. of course he does.

aeri stumbles back over with heesehng; laugh loud as she flops into the seat next to yours. heeseung follows, hopelessly smitten and trying not to look like it.

“we’re smoking. balcony. right now.” she announces, reaching into the pocket of heeseung’s hoodie and taking out a pre-roll.

“who’s coming?”

ning appears out of nowhere, looping her arm with yours. “we are. obviously.”

“me too.” heeseung says.

“cute.” aeri purrs.

you watch her eyes flick around the room before landing on someone who’s barely moved.

jimin.

she’s still holding a half full cup and she’s still too stiff. she’s moved a little but not much. she’s basically invisible. almost.

“jimin! come smoke.” aeri calls out loudly.

jimin looks up, clearly startled.

you can see the way she hesitates and you expect her to say no.

“come on, jimin. you don’t wanna just sit there the whole time, right? it’s not even that strong.”

“she’s such a liar.” ning laughs.

jimin hesitates. she looks at you but you don’t say anything. you don’t even smile.

and that’s when she finally speaks up.

“okay.”

aeri smiles. “that’s my girl!”

now you’re all crowded on the balcony. jake’s lighting the joint and aeri is in heeseung’s lap, giggling into his hoodie. ning is talking about some teacher’s assistant that texted her the other night.

you’re leaned against the railing, feeling the cold air against your thighs. jimin’s standing next to you. not close but close enough to pass the smoke back and forth.

she doesn’t cough the first time she inhales and you’re impressed.

“you’ve done this before.”

“once or twice.” she shrugs.

“liar.”

she looks at you. “so what if i am?”

you smile. the smoke curls between you.

she hands the joint back without looking at you and you take it, brushing her fingers in purpose. she pretends not to notice and you pretend you didn’t mean it.

the weeknd’s still playing inside and everything feels heavier out here.

“you’re obsessed.” ning teased heeseung.

“i am not.” he says, which only makes aeri giggle and smack his chest playfully.

“he’s obsessed. look at him. he’s ready to tattoo my name on his ribs.” she purrs, throwing an arm around his neck.

“don’t tempt me.” ning chokes on her laugh.

“he’d get your name tatted in cursive then cry about it when you ghost him two weeks later.” you say. heeseung just smiles like the masochist he is.

“you’re all so dramatic.” jake says, passing the blunt back to jimin. she surprises everyone by taking a deep inhale and not coughing.

“okay! karina with the lungs of a stoner!” ning cheers.

“jimin.” she corrects softly but you catch the way her lips twitch. and the way she’s checking if you’re still paying attention.

you are, unfortunately.

“so. what changed your mind?” you exhale.

“about?”

“coming out here. playing along.”

she shrugs again and you catch the way she’s avoiding your eyes now.

“figured it’d be… educational.”

“cute.”

“you keep saying that like it’s an insult.”

“no, baby. i like cute. just not when it pretends to be tough.”

“you think i’m pretending?” her jaw tightens.

“i think you like pretending that you’re above all of this. but you came, didn’t you? let me talk to you. even flirt with you.”

“you didn’t flirt.” she says.

“no?” you raise a brow.

“you teased me.”

“you want me to flirt instead?” jimin’s breath catches.

“you wouldn’t know how.”

you pause for a moment, tilting your head snd studying her.

“try me.”

“you’re mean when you’re high.” jake speaks up. he’s sitting on the floor now, one shoulder brushing your knee.

“you like it.” you look down at him.

“maybe i do.” he smiles.

“y/n flirts with everyone. don’t take it personally.” ning giggles.

“i don’t.” jimin says quickly. but she isn’t looking at ning— she’s looking at you. trying to figure out if you’re doing this for her benefit or just because you can.

“see? even karina thinks i’m charming.”

“that’s not what she said.” ning laughed again.

“don’t start putting words in her mouth. unless she wants to volunteer some.” you take a sip of your cup.

jimin takes the blunt from aeri, avoiding your gaze. she inhales again.

“you’ve definitely done this more than twice.” you tilt your head.

“maybe i just learn fast.”

“hm. i bet you do.” you smirk.

jake leans back, resting his arm over your leg now. his fingers tap against your knee. “you gonna keep teasing her all night or you gonna share the attention?”

“jealous?”

“curious.” he shrugs, watching you closely with dark eyes.

jimin goes still next to you.

“you’d die trying to keep up with me.” you say to him.

“you say that like it isn’t worth it.”

“careful, jake. i don’t play fair.” he just smiles like he wants the game anyway.

aeri suddenly gasps. “wait— wait. i wanna play truth or dare.”

“oh no. not this again.” ning groaned.

“yes this again! we’re high, we’re hot, and we’re bored! what else is there?” she kicks her legs excitedly, almost knocking over heeseung’s cup.

“feelings. consequences. dignity.”

“shut up, lover boy. we’re playing. c’mon. no backing out now.”

ning sighs dramatically but drops down onto the floor, pulling you closer. she downs the rest of her drink and immediately points at jake. “you go first. truth or dare.”

“truth.” he smiles, cocky as ever.

“have you ever hooked up with someone here?”

jake looks over at you for a second. “not yet.”

you raise an eyebrow, not saying a word. but jimin is watching you again. her stare is sharper this time.

“flop answer. y/n, your turn. truth or dare?” aeri says, already bored.

“dare.”

“i dare you to sit in jake’s lap for the next two rounds.”

you’re completely unbothered, moving without hesitation. jake spreads his legs and you sink into his lap. his hands settle lightly at your waist but his eyes flick to your mouth.

“comfortable?” he asks, voice low.

“for now.”

heeseung is next and he picks truth.

“would you let me spit in your mouth?” aeri asked sweetly.

“yes.”

ning nearly dies from laughter.

jimin coughs. it’s the only thing that she’s said in the past few minutes.

“jimin. truth or dare?”

she hesitates. “truth.”

“you’re all boring.” aeri sighs dramatically.

“do you think y/n’s hot?”

you turn your head slightly. not all the way but enough to make jake smirk. jimin’s face doesn’t change.

“yes.”

“about time you admit it.” you smiled.

she exhales like she didn’t just give something away.

“jake. truth or dare?” she says suddenly.

“dare.” he’s still cocky.

“kiss her. if she lets you.” her eyes are on you.

you stare.

it’s not like she said it to be cruel. or kind. it’s a challenge.

jake hesitates then looks at you.

you lean back, arms resting on his shoulders.

“what do you say?” he asks.

you turn to jimin instead. “you sure you wanna watch that?”

her eyes widen, just a little, and you can see a flicker of something. jealousy? nerves? but something tightens in her jaw before she turns her head, pretending that she isn’t flustered. pretending that she didn’t just give you exactly what you wanted.

you smirk deepens and jake raises an eyebrow like he’s waiting. but you don’t kiss him. not yet. you just slowly sip your drink, eyes never leaving jimin.

then you suddenly slide off of jake’s lap like you’re bored.

“i’m out.” you say, lifting your empty cup.

“i’ll get you another.” he stands eagerly.

“how sweet. you remember what i like, right?” you mutter.

“course.” he’s heading back inside. a little too quickly.

“that boy is whipped.” aeri watches him go with a grin.

you shrug, leaning against the railing next to jimin again.

“soooo… whose turn?” ning asks.

“karina’s. truth or dare?”

jimin looks at you like she knows this is a setup. maybe it is.

“…truth.”

“coward.” aeri coughs, half laughing.

you smile, slow and dangerous. “fine. truth. have you been watching me all night?”

she opens her mouth like she wants to lie. like she’s about to.

but then—

“yes.”

“cute.” you say softly.

she rolls her eyes but her neck is flushed. “stop saying that.”

“it’s your turn now. truth or dare.”

you raise an eyebrow. “dare.”

“if you won’t kiss jake then kiss the next person who passes you the joint.”

“you’re getting bold.”

“i’m returning the favor.”

you hold her gaze for a moment longer before reaching for the joint that’s half burned in the ashtray.

“fine.” you take a hit slowly.

“guess we’ll see if someone passes it.”

“you’re all pussies if you don’t.” ning speaks.

but jimin lifts it again before passing it to you.

you raise the joint to your lips and take another hit.

“you sure you want that?”

her eyes drop to your mouth. “yeah.”

that gets to you. you lean in, only to whisper in her ear.

“good girls shouldn’t talk like that.”

“you think i’m a good girl?”

you pause, studying her. the calm in her eyes makes it look like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“you’d be surprised by how often i smoke alone.”

your smirk wavers for half a second. not enough for everyone else to notice, but she sees it. she sees all of it.

“you should come by sometime. if you’re not scared.” she says like a challenge.

you can’t even reply before jake reappears with your drink.

“here you go.” he says, cheerful and oblivious.

you take it with a smile, looking over at aeri.

“can we go back to your room? i’m cold.”

aeri perks up immediately. “finally someone admits it! i’m freezing my nipples off.”

“you took heeseung’s hoodie.” ning rolls her eyes. you don’t even know when that happened.

“and still freezing.”

you take a sip of your drink, eyes flicking back to jimin just for a second. a second long enough for her to see the way you smirk against the rim of the cup.

like you’re considering it.

“jake, grab the ashtray.” aeri commands, standing up and dragging heeseung with her.

“you good?” jake leans in slightly as you follow behind.

“perfect.” you hum, brushing past him and heading for the door as he holds it open for you.

you don’t look back.

you don’t have to. because you know she’s watching. and you know she’s still thinking about it, too.

you should come by sometime. if you’re not scared.

the challenge sits in your chest. you think about answering it.

but not yet.

aeri’s room smells exactly like vanilla body spray. the lights are dim, casting a glow over the mess of pillows and shoes kicked into random corners. you settle on the edge of the bed first, crossing your legs and jake follows you in without needing an invitation. he leans beside you.

aeri flops face first into her mattress, giggling like she already knows tonight’s going to end in disaster. ning steals her spot almost immediately, stretching out next to you and leaning back against the headboard like she owns it. heeseung just plants himself on the floor again, tossing a blanket over his legs, still not focusing on anything but wherever aeri is.

jimin’s the last to come in. she’s quiet but not unnoticed. she leans against the wall with her arms crossed, pretending like she isn’t watching you.

jake bumps his knee against yours. “so. back to the game?”

“obviously. jimin went last. that means she asks next.” ning pulls out her phone.

jimin almost immediately turns towards jake. “truth or dare?”

he smirks. “dare.”

it’s silent before she answers. “switch spots with me.”

jake’s grin falters, eyes turning to you like he’s trying to read your expression.

“why?”

“no questions. that’s the rule.” ning sings.

he hesitates for a second before standing up, brushing past her on the way to the wall. she slides into the space beside you.

you don’t look at her. not right away. you just stare at your drink and your pulse ticks up just a little. you feel her thigh brush yours, but she doesn't move away.

jake coughs from his new spot. “damn. cold.”

aeri lifts her head. “what? you jealous?”

“i mean— if she wanted company, she could’ve just said that.”

“i’m not company.” jimin says quietly. and for a second it sounds like she’s saying it for you.

you swallow, throat dry despite the last sip of your drink.

“well, it’s my turn now.” jake speaks up. louder this time, like he’s trying to remind you of his presence.

you lift your gaze to glance at him. he’s slouched against the wall where jimin previously was, arms folded behind his head with his eyes locked on you like he’s daring you to forget about him for too long.

“truth or dare, y/n?”

your leg is still touching jimin’s. just barely. but it’s there. she hasn’t moved an inch. you wonder if she can feel the way your breath hitches.

“truth.”

jake hums thoughtfully, but there’s a flicker of something in his eye. you can already tell it’s not going to be innocent.

“what’s the real reason you didn’t let me kiss you earlier?”

ning gasps. “oh, we’re doing this.”

aeri cackles into heeseung’s shoulder.

you don’t answer right away.

you feel jimin stiffen next to you.

and that’s what makes you smile. just a little. enough to stir the pot.

“i wasn’t drunk enough.” you say casually.

jake laughs before shaking his head. “liar.”

“it’s self control.”

“it’s fear.” he counters, tone teasing but sharp.

you open your mouth to snap back but jimin cuts in first.

“she’s not scared of you.”

everyone goes quiet for a moment.

you turn your head to her slowly. “you don’t need to answer for me.”

“i’m not. just calling bullshit when i hear it.”

your pulse ticks up. it only makes you want her more.

“damn.” ning mutters.

“what, you jealous or something?” jake leans forward, lips tugging into a smirk.

“she could’ve kissed you if she wanted to. she didn’t.”

you meet her eyes and you feel something in your chest.

“you two need to hook up already.” he raises an eyebrow.

“what makes you think we haven’t?” you smirk.

aeri lets out a squeal. “wait— what?!”

ning chokes on her drink. “you’re lying.”

jake stiffens, staring like he’s trying to do the math.

you don’t clarify. you don’t look away either. you just keep your eyes on jimin.

her expression is unreadable. her jaw clenches but her lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile.

her knee nudges yours. just slightly. you don’t move away.

“anyway. i have to pee. and i’m getting another drink.” you rise, leaving before anyone can say anything.

you make it down the hallway without looking back, and you pause in the bathroom. not to pee, but to breathe. just for a second. the mirror catches your expression, your eyes are half lidded, your lips are parted, and your eyes are red. you look exactly like you feel.

and then there’s a soft knock.

you already know who it is.

you open the door.

jimin’s there, hand still slightly raised like she was about to knock again. her eyes meet yours, calm, but it’s the kind of calm that hides something hotter underneath.

she doesn’t speak. she just tilts her head towards the door. like everyone else still isn’t partying. like they still aren’t upstairs. “come on.”

you don’t hesitate. you follow.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

the uber ride was mostly quiet. her place smells like her perfume and eucalyptus, the kind of clean lived in mess that makes you wonder how many people have seen this version of her. you doubt it’s many.

she tosses her house keys on the table and heads straight to the kitchen. “still want another drink?”

you shrug. “i could be convinced.”

she raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look at you when she pours. “convinced?”

you don’t answer. you don’t have to. she hands you the glass, brushing your fingers just slightly as you take it.

then she grabs the grinder from a drawer, pulls open a window, and wordlessly starts rolling.

you lean against the counter, watching her. “so you really smoke alone?”

“not tonight.” she doesn’t look up.

you smirk. “is that an invitation?”

she glances at you. “that depends. you still scared?”

you step closer. “you wish.”

she lights the joint, takes the first hit, and holds it in before passing it to you. the smoke curls between you and when you take it from her, her fingers graze yours again.

you take a slow drag, blowing it out the side of your mouth.

you hold her gaze through the smoke. her lashes are low and her eyes are dark.

“i wasn’t lying earlier. i didn’t let him kiss me because i didn’t want to.” you say, voice husky now.

her gaze drops to your mouth then flicks back up. “i know.”

“do you?”

“yeah. i was watching.” she leans back against the counter, joint balanced between her fingers.

you step in again, just enough to make her breath catch. “then you must’ve known i wanted you to say something.”

“i did. but i didn’t trust what i’d do after.” she admits.

you blink slowly. your smile is lazy and full of something that neither of you are trying to name.

“then you’re worse than i thought.”

her mouth twitches like she wants to laugh. “oh?”

“yeah. because i would’ve let you.” you take the joint from her hand and inhale. the smoke escapes your lips slowly, curling into the space between you. her eyes follow the trail then drag back to yours.

“and you still would?”

you take one more step. her perfume hits you but you don’t answer. you just hand her the joint again.

your fingers brush.

again.

“kiss me.” she says, low, like it’s not a command but a dare.

you lean in, but don’t touch her yet. just close enough that she can feel your breath. “what do good girls say?”

her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything at first. her eyes flicker between yours like she’s weighing the consequences of what comes next.

the joint burns between her fingers, forgotten.

you watch her.

she exhales shakily. “please.”

it’s barely audible but it shatters something between you.

you don’t give her a chance to take it back.

your mouth finds hers in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. it’s hot, slow, and deliberate. her free hand finds your waist, fingers curling in the fabric of your dress like she’s been waiting forever. the joint’s gone now, set carelessly on the counter as both her hands tug you closer.

you sigh into her mouth and it makes her press harder. like she needs to prove something. like she’s been holding this in too long.

as your mouth opens she forces her tongue into your mouth, exploring it like she won’t get another chance. you moan quietly, wrapping your arms around her neck.

she lifts you onto the counter by your thighs, breathing heavily as she kisses along the skin of your neck. you tilt your head to the side, giving her more access.

this was the side of her that you were begging to see.

“fuck, jimin…” you mumble as she bites into your neck before soothing it with her tongue, hands rubbing the plush of your thighs.

she exhales shakily at that, pulling down your dress to expose your collarbone and attack it next. “you finally got the name right.”

you smirked. but she doesn’t give you time to answer. not with words, anyway.

her mouth is already dragging lower, lips brushing over the skin of your chest like she’s memorizing every inch. her touch is careful, but her eyes are wild.

“you look so pretty like this. on my counter. waiting.” she breathes, fingers slipping under the hem of your dress now, slow and teasing, like she wants to savor every reaction.

your breath catches as her hand ghosts along your thigh, edging higher.

“waiting for what?” you ask, voice thick with anticipation.

her smile is slow and wicked. “for me to fuck you.”

you tug her back in by the collar of her hoodie, crashing your mouth into hers again. it’s messy and hungry, like you’ve both been starved. she groans against your lips and the sound vibrates right through you.

when she presses forward, you wrap your legs around her hips, pulling her in close until there’s no space left. her hand finds your hair, holding you still as her mouth works over yours like she needs to claim it.

"you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this. how long i’ve wanted you.” she breathes out.

she kisses your jaw, then your throat, then bites just below your ear. you gasp, arching into her without thinking.

“do you know how many nights i’ve fucked my hand thinking about you? about you in those little skirts, mouthing off like you wouldn’t drop to your knees if i told you to? i’d touch myself and imagine you begging. imagine you soaked just from hearing me say your name.” her voice is a whisper, but it’s ragged. like she’s finally letting herself admit it and can’t stop now.

you rock against her without meaning to, chasing the friction and it makes her curse under her breath.

“you’re not the only one. but i’m done thinking.” you admit, panting.

“yeah?” she breathes, hands moving again. bolder now. hungrier.

you nod, lips brushing hers again. “please.”

and this time, it’s your plea that shatters something. because the second she hears it, she drops to her knees.

her hands trail down the backs of your thighs as she does, dragging your body forward until you’re perched on the edge of the counter. you’re trembling under her touch and she looks up at you from her lashes. her pupils are wide, her lips are swollen, and her hair is a little messy from where you tugged it.

“fuck. look at you. so perfect.” she whispers.

you spread your knees slightly, letting her settle between them and her hands trail up your legs again slowly. then again, higher, teasing you with her lips.

your fingers plant into her hair, tugging gently and she hums like that’s exactly what she wanted. “you’re shaking.” she says.

“i’m not.” but your voice betrays you. your whole body betrays you.

she presses her mouth to the inside of your other thigh, holding eye contact as her tongue darts out against your skin.

“it’s okay. i’ll take care of you.”

you whimper. the anticipation alone is making you unravel and she hasn’t even touched you where you need it most.

her fingers hook around the sides of your underwear, sliding them down with agonizing slowness. when they’re off, she doesn’t look away. not even when she leans in and kisses your inner thigh again, dangerously close.

“you’re so fucking pretty.” she whimpered, more to herself than to you.

your hips twitch and she finally, finally gives in, dragging her tongue through your folds in one long, devastating stroke.

your head falls back against the cabinets with a soft moan and she groans against you like she’s already addicted.

she eats you out like she’s making up for lost time. like she’s starving and you’re the only thing that could satisfy her. her mouth is hot and her tongue is relentless, licking and sucking like she wants to devour you completely.

and god, she’s good at it.

“jimin—fuck, jimin—” you cry out, thighs trembling around her shoulders.

she moans at the sound of her name falling from your lips like that, then she brings her fingers into it too— slipping one inside you slowly, then another, curling them just right as her tongue flicks over your clit.

“oh— fuck!” you moan louder, covering your mouth.

she hummed. “no, princess. let me hear all the pretty noises you make for me.”

she’s driving you insane.

“does it feel good? you like my tongue, hm?” her voice is low, coated in need. every word vibrates against you, and it’s too much. too much and not enough. your hips rock into her face before you can stop them, chasing the friction and chasing her.

“yes— yes! fuck, jimin—“ you gasp.

she groans like it’s the only thing she’s ever wanted to hear. and it makes her move faster. her fingers curl deeper and her tongue flicks harsher with more purpose.

“that’s it. take what you need.” she coos, voice muffled by your cunt.

you’re melting. falling apart in her hands.

her grip is bruising now, one hand digging into your hip to hold you still, the other one still fucking you open perfectly.

“you taste so good, baby. how did i go this long without this? could eat you for hours. days.” she breathes against your clit, lips dragging over it again.

you don’t have an answer. you’re not even sure if you can speak. all you can do is moan and shake and hold onto her hair.

you’re so close, and she knows it. she can feel it in the way you clench around her and in the way your legs tense.

“don’t stop— please, don’t stop—” you gasp and that’s all she needs to hear.

she doubles her efforts, fucking you with her fingers and licking you until your back arches.

“fuck— fuck, jimin! i’m gonna—“ you choke.

and she doesn’t stop. if anything, she gets messier. hungrier. licking and sucking with so much desperation you almost can’t take it.

“cum for me. wanna feel you all over my face. need it— fuck, need you—“ she begs again, voice hoarse.

and you do.

you fall apart with a helpless moan, thighs clamping tight around her head as you cum hard on her tongue. she groans like she’s the one breaking, mouth still working you through it.

when it’s over, she doesn’t even pull away right away. she licks you clean with lazy strokes of her tongue and only when you twitch from the sensitivity does she kiss the inside of your thigh and rise slowly, one hand on your waist to steady you.

your chest is still heaving when you open your eyes. her lips are slick and her pupils are still wide, but her smirk is proud.

“told you i’d take care of you.” she muttered as her thumb traced slow circles into your hip.

you huff out a breathless laugh, trying to level your head but failing miserably with her looking at you like that.

“fuck you.” you mumble but there’s no hate behind it. your voice is hoarse.

“you just did. or should i say… you let me.” she grins, then leans in to press a kiss to your jaw.

you roll your eyes, reaching up to tangle your fingers in her hoodie and drag her down for another kiss. it was slow and deep this time with none of the earlier frenzy.

her hand finds your bare thigh again and just squeezes gently.

“unless… you want more?”

her voice is low and husky. it’s right against your mouth but you feel it everywhere.

you don’t answer right away. you can’t. your brain is still fogged from the way she just ruined you and she knows it. she’s watching you like she’s waiting to pounce on you, eyes flicking down to your parted lips then your still trembling thighs.

her hand slides a little higher on your leg. just enough.

you bite back a noise. “jimin…”

she hums like a warning. “mm, say it again.”

you breathe out her name softer this time. like a confession. “jimin.”

her lips ghost yours. not kissing you, just there. “you have no fucking idea of how obsessed i am with you.”

your fingers curl into her hoodie again. “then show me.”

“you sure?”

you nod. but that’s not good enough for her. not this version of her.

“use your words, pretty girl.”

you swallow hard. “yes. i want more. i want you.”

the look she gives you after that? it’s hunger. pure hunger.

“good. because i’m not even close to done with you yet.” she mumbled before pressing a kiss to your temple, your cheek, and the corner of your mouth. everywhere but where you need it.

her hand finally slips between your thighs again, but it’s slow and teasing. she just rubs lazy circles that have you twitching from the oversensitivity.

“gonna take my time with you now. wanna hear all those sounds again. wanna memorize every single one.” she whispered.

you breathe her name again desperately.

and this time when she kisses you, it’s with that same obsession you feel burning inside of your own chest.

and when you pull away she doesn’t take her eyes off of you.

the hoodie she’s wearing hangs off one shoulder now, fabric twisted from the way you tugged her closer.

“you’re staring.” you mumble, voice a little hoarse.

jimin just grins, leaning her weight against the kitchen counter as her fingers drag slowly along the edge of your dress. “can you blame me? you’re wearing this little thing and expected me not to stare?”

you roll your eyes but you can’t help the way your lips twitch. “you literally invited me over.”

“yeah. to smoke.”

her hand slips under the hem of your dress, teasing along the back of your thigh and stopping just before the heat between your legs. you suck in a breath, leaning into her instinctively but she pulls back with a look.

“oh, you’re mean. you’re acting like you didn’t invite me over to fuck me.” you breathe, chasing her mouth with yours but she dodges it. she leans in just enough to brush her lips against your jaw instead.

her lips hover there. just barely glazing your skin. “i didn’t say that. but you’re eager for someone who came here just to smoke.”

you let out a laugh, tilting your head to give her more access. “jimin.” you warn, voice somewhere between a plea and a threat.

but she ignores it. her fingers skim higher, knuckles brushing the damp heat between your thighs but never pressing. never giving you enough. she wants you squirming. and you hate how well it’s working.

“you wore this dress on purpose, didn’t you? wanted to drive me crazy.” she whispers.

you scoff but your body betrays you, hips shifting forward without thinking. “like i knew you’d be there. i wore it because i look good.”

“mm. you look perfect.” she hums, mouth brushing just below your ear.

her praise makes your stomach flip, but you refuse to let her see how much it affects you. especially after she had you falling apart on her kitchen counter.

“still staring.” you mumble.

“still wet.” she fires back, cocky and quiet as her hand presses against your bare cunt again. just enough to make your breath hitch.

you don’t answer. you can’t. not when she starts mouthing at your neck like she’s claiming you.

and when she kisses you again, it’s slow and deep.

“you gonna keep pretending you didn’t come here to get fucked?” she mumbles against your lips.

you pull back just to glare at her, breathing hard. “only if you’re done teasing.”

she smirks, picking you up like you weigh nothing and walking towards the hall. “oh, baby. i’m just getting started.”

you yelp in surprise as she carries you. her grip on you is firm. like she’s been waiting to do this all night.

“jimin.” you breathe.

“mhm?” she hums, nose brushing yours.

you blink down at her, heart racing. “jimin.”

her name sounds too soft on your lips. it’s too sweet for how filthy her hands feel against your thighs as she walks you through the hallway like it’s nothing.

her bedroom door swings open with the shove of her foot. the second you’re inside, she drops you gently onto the bed, standing between your legs as she tugs the hoodie off. her eyes are wide and her chest is rising with every breath as she looks down at you.

and then that smirk returns. her fingers push your dress up and up and up, baring your thighs and everything between.

“still wet.” she mumbles again, thumb dragging slow and slick through your folds while her eyes stay locked on yours.

you shudder. you hate how good she is at this. hate how cocky she gets when she knows she’s wrecked you.

“you talk too much.” you mutter.

she smiles, leaning down to kiss the inside of your knee then higher. “and you love it.”

you don’t deny it. not when she’s sliding to her knees like she’s praying. not when she’s mouthing at the crease of your thigh. but she’s completely ignoring the place you need her most.

“fuck, you’re perfect.” she says, voice lower now.

you swallow hard, fingers twitching in the sheets.

and then she looks up at you, mouth inches from your cunt. “let me show you.”

her tongue just barely grazes you, hot breath ghosting your folds and lips brushing soft against your skin. it should be everything. it should. but it just isn’t enough.

your hand tangles in her hair, tugging gently.

“wait.” you breathe out.

she freezes instantly. her head snaps up, eyes wide with concern. “did i—?”

“no. no, just—“ you say quickly.

your thighs squeeze around her shoulders before you can stop them. she’s so pretty like this. on her knees for you, hands gripping your hips like she’s seconds from losing control.

but you want something else right now.

“i want you to u-use your dick, baby.” you mumble, not even meaning to sound shy.

her jaw clenches.

“you sure?” she asks, voice a little rough.

you nod, pulling her up by the hoodie bunched at her shoulders.

her weight settles over you, tugging her hoodie off and discarding it on the floor.

she kisses you like she needs to. like she’s been holding back all night and finally has permission to let go. and maybe she has, because the second her lips are on yours again her hands are tugging your dress up and off with almost no effort.

you let her. you want her to.

“you’re so fucking hot. always teasing me, acting like you don’t know what you do to me.” she mutters, eyes flicking over every inch of exposed skin like it’s the first time she’s seen it. and it is.

you lean back on your elbows with your legs still spread around her hips and you smirk. “and what do i do to you, jimin?”

her jaw clenches again, sharp and hungry, and you don’t get a real answer. not in words.

she pulls her sweats down, dick springing free, flushed and already slick at the tip.

the sight alone knocks the breath from your lungs. god, she’s huge. and she’s hard for you. all for you.

she strokes herself once, never breaking eye contact. “gonna let me stretch you out, baby? you want this now?” her tone is mocking but low with need.

you nod.

but you know she’s not satisfied. not when you’ve been running your mouth all night.

“use your words. you were loud enough when i had my mouth on you.”

you glare at her but your voice still cracks when you say it. “yes. i need you, jimin. want you to fuck me.”

she leans down and kisses you hard, like it’s a reward, like it’s a thank you, like she’s desperate to feel more of you. her hand slides between your legs again, spreading you open just enough, and then—

she pushes in.

you gasp, nails digging into her shoulders. the stretch burns but you want it. you crave it. she’s careful at first, slow and patient, watching your face the entire time like she needs to memorize it.

“there you go. taking me so well, baby.”she whispers, voice ragged.

you groan, eyes fluttering shut.

“eyes on me.” she murmurs.

and when you look up at her, her cheeks are flushed and her lips are parted. you can see the stunned awe in her expression as she bottoms out, and you realize she’s just as gone for you as you are for her. maybe more.

“you feel so good. so fucking tight— fuck…” she whimpers. her voice breaks at the end and she buries her face in your neck.

you feel everything. every inch of her, every tremble in her arms as she holds herself still inside you. like she’s trying not to lose it already.

you fingers thread through her hair, tugging gently and she groans at the feeling. her hips twitch forward.

“jimin.” you whisper breathlessly.

she pulls back enough to look at you again, lips still wet from the way she kissed you like you were hers.

“i’m not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that.” she says like a confession. like she’s ashamed of how bad she wants you.

you smile, but it’s slow and all mean girl again. “already?”

her breath catches. your hips roll up instinctively, grinding against her in a way that makes her hiss through her teeth.

her grip tightens on your thighs like she’s fighting for control. and losing.

"fuck.” she mutters, forehead pressing against yours now and eyes fluttering shut like she can’t handle you.

“awh. am i too much for you, jimin?” you coo softly, dragging your nails down her back.

she laughs shakily. “you have no idea.”

but then her eyes open again, and something shifts in them. she draws back just to thrust forward and the gasp that escapes your lips is immediate and involuntary.

you don’t even get a chance to say anything. her hips snap forward again— harder and rougher— and suddenly she’s pounding into you like she has something to prove. like she needs to ruin that little smile on your lips.

and maybe she does. because it only takes a few more thrusts before your smirk falters, lips parting with a moan as the pleasure catches up to you all at once.

“not so mouthy now, huh? where’s all that attitude, baby?” she mutters, breath hot against your skin as she fucks you into the mattress.

you wrap your legs around her, helpless against how brutal her pace is. and then her fingers find your clit again, rubbing in tight and practiced circles like she knows your body already.

“answer me.” she groans, voice low and strained.

“i— i can’t—“ you gasp.

“yes you can. c’mon, be a good girl. use your words.” her thrusts get deeper. rougher.

“jimin, please! ‘s so good— fuck!” you whimper, head falling back.

her name leaves your lips like a prayer. you can’t feel anything else except the way she’s filling you up so nicely.

“yeah? that’s what i thought. all that attitude just to end up a mess on my dick.” she pants, lips brushing your jaw, then your cheek, then your mouth.

you clench around her at the sound of her voice. it’s low, cocky, and desperate. and she groans at the feeling, pace stuttering just for a second before she fucks you harder.

“bet you’ve been thinking about this, huh? bet you touched yourself to the thought of me. acting like you don’t want it.” she breathes against your skin, hand sliding under your back to arch you up into her.

you can’t even form a real response anymore. just breathy, broken sounds. with her fingers on your clit, dick hitting that spot so deep you see stars, voice in your ear like she owns you, how can you?

“who’s making you feel good?” she demands, fucking you harder now.

you choke on a moan, head rolling back as your nails dig into her back.

“you are— fuck, jimin, you are—”

“that’s right. say it again.”

“you— fuck— only you! only you make me feel like this—“ you gasp, thighs shaking from how deep she’s hitting.

her lips crash into yours, messy and rough. like she can’t go another second without tasting you. and you let her. you give in completely.

she pulls back enough to speak, forehead resting against yours.

“you gonna cum for me again, baby? gonna let me feel you fall apart around me?”

you nod helplessly, everything tightening at once. your thighs, your core, and the way your fingers hold onto her.

“then cum. be my good girl and cum.” she whispers, barely holding it together.

and with one more thrust, you come undone, crying out her name like it’s the only word you know.

it makes her thrusts falter.

“babyy— i’m close— fuck, i’m gonna cum…” she moans.

“where do you want me?” her voice cracks when she says it, hips stuttering inside of you like she’s barely hanging on. you can feel how close she is. every twitch of her cock, the desperate way she’s gripping your hips, and the wild look in her eyes.

you cup her jaw, pulling her in until your lips are just barely touching. “inside. want you to cum inside of me, jimin.” you whisper.

her breath catches. her whole body tenses like she wasn’t expecting that.

“fuck—” she whines, burying her face in your neck. and then she’s cumming.

you feel it. the way she spills into you with a broken moan of your name, her body jerking with the force of it. her hips press down hard, as deep as she can go, and stay there as she trembles through it.

you’re both shaking. your arms wrap around her instinctively, keeping her close as she rides it out, soft whimpers spilling from her lips against your skin.

when she finally stills, she doesn’t move. just holds you like she can’t stand the thought of letting go. “still think i’m cute?”

you scoff breathlessly, rolling your eyes. “shut the fuck up.”

taglist — @saysirhc @prologue-ae @yuyuy90

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day thirdteen.

Ass or Tits? (1.4k words)

summary: Who would’ve thought? Lando Norris is a tits guy.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, unprotected sex.

You wouldn’t say it was a known fact that Lando was an ass guy, but some people knew this about him for some reason. That’s also what you thought when you first started dating, or the first few times you had sex, he would always pay special attention to your ass. 

That was until one hot summer day you were wearing a dress that left very little to the imagination, resting so low on your cleavage that it nearly showed everything you had. You didn’t think it was doing your boobs a favour, but you had to admit they looked great, and your boyfriend agreed.

Since you came out of your room that morning wearing that dress, you caught him slightly eying your chest, which led him to be way more interested in your boobs, not only for the rest of the day, but any time he had a chance; nothing too obvious, but you could tell he was constantly thinking about it. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, wanting to save him from embarrassment, but you decided to tease him one day, “Hey, my eyes are up here.”

His eyes widened and his face turned red right away “I wasn’t looking." He said, shaking his head and making you laugh.

But you now knew how much he loved them, since it became a common occurrence that any time you had sex, his hands would constantly land there. Now, instead of grabbing and squeezing your ass, he would give all his attention to your boobs; staring when they bounced on top of him, playing with one as the other one had a mouth wrapped around it; it was anything, really, so from that moment you decided to take it further, not in an evident way but just enough for him to notice. 

It started with tank tops when it was too hot outside, and you would purposefully lean over in front of him or cross your arms to show a little more. At first he didn’t know what you were doing; he was honestly enjoying the view, but as soon as the weather started to change and you were still wearing low-cut shirts and dresses, he started to get suspicious.

He kept it to himself though, not wanting to make an accusation like that until he was completely sure. Until one day his suspicions were confirmed when, while you were cuddling in his hotel room, you pulled him closer to you, making him rest closer to where your chest was.

He smirked and finally said, “I know what you’re doing." He sat up and turned to look at you with accusatory eyes.

“What do you mean?” You replied innocently, shrugging your shoulders and looking at him expectantly.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” He asked in a lower voice, weirdly making you get a little excited.

You shook your head and kept your innocent gaze, but you knew exactly where this was going.

“Why don’t you tell me how cold it’s outside?" Lando pulled you up and guided your body to his lap, hands caressing your thighs once you were comfortably sitting on him. “Mhm?” He hummed when he got no response.

You looked out of the window and were met with a cloudy sky. The sun was long gone, and the dark day threatened with rain instead. “It looks warm to me.” 

“Really? Cause I think it’s too cold for you to be wearing these tiny dresses, and yet here you  are." His hands were running up and down your body, squeezing your sides every now and then. “Wanna tell me why?”

“I’m not cold,” you responded, not giving in. His smirk grew bigger at the game you were playing. It was only a matter of time until he caught up to your intentions. Usually, you would be wearing many layers at the smallest hint of a cold day, which hasn’t been the case since your little discovery.

He looked down at your breasts and quickly looked back at you. “So these have nothing to do with your outfit choices?” You shook your head once again, this time biting your lip as you waited for him to do something.

“Why? Are you getting distracted?” 

“Do you want me to? Is that what you have been trying to do all this time?” He questioned, his hands travelling closer and closer to your heat. “Is this what you want?”

You let out a shaky breath, grabbing a handful of his shirt. He repeated the question, and this time, you were quick to nod, growing a little desperate.

“Turn around,” he demanded. You happily complied, quickly getting up from his lap and collapsing back on it, with your back now pressing against his strong chest, giving him full access to your boobs. “Poor baby, putting up with the cold weather just to show off your boobs.”

He was whispering next to your ear, his hands now finding your desperate breasts. He slowly started to take off your dress, your hot skin making him hard by the second. You allowed him to undress you and slightly started to move your hips, creating a little friction, but he made you stop.

“Not so fast." He was taking his time, kissing your shoulder while one of his hands played with your boobs and the other with your clothed clit. At this point, you were a whimpering mess, but God, you needed more, so when Lando finally lifted you up a little to pull down his own pants and underwear, you let out an excited but desperate moan.

He didn’t even bother to get rid of your panties, just moving them to the side enough to slide his cock into you. You both let out a loud moan, not even considering keeping it down so the people next to your room wouldn’t hear you.

You quickly set the perfect pace; you were sinking into him while he grabbed both of your boobs, slightly squeezing them as his fingers played with your nipples from time to time, and you loved it. “Is this what you wanted?” He asked, his voice low and raspy from the pleasure he was feeling, and you frantically nodded.

One of your hands was holding onto his forearm for dear life as your other one travelled down your body to rub soft circles on your clit; you knew you wouldn’t last long, suddenly feeling hyperaware of where his hands were resting.

You tried to chase your orgasm by increasing the pace, but your legs were getting so tired that you were struggling. He noticed this, so he decided to help you; his hips stated thrusting up in you to meet you half way as his hands used his hold on your boobs to guide your movements, the added pressure making you moan.

“I didn’t know your boobs enjoyed the attention this much, my love. Do you like it when I hold you like this?” He asked, biting your shoulder. You nodded in response, your moans becoming louder the closer you got. “Come on, sweetheart. I know you are close.”

Your bouncing became sloppier as you felt your orgasm coming, walls squeezing him with every snap of your skin. “I’m- so close.” You mumbled, making him thrust into you harder.

It only took a flicker of your nipple to push you over the edge, your body shaking in pleasure against him as he chased his own orgasm. Both your hands were now holding onto him as your head fell on his shoulder, feeling his cock hit your g-spot over and over again; it felt like too much.

After a few more thrusts, you could feel the hot liquid spill inside your pussy, his head falling back in pure ecstasy as his movements came to a stop.

Lando collapsed back on the bed, pulling you with him so you relaxed against his chest. Both of you stayed there trying to catch your breath, his now softening cock still buried in you as his hands carresed your naked torso.

“Who would’ve thought? Lando Norris is a tits guy.” You whispered after a few minutes of silence.

He couldn’t contain his laugh, your words making him go back to get a hold of your boobs again. “Can’t help it, baby. Have you seen these?” He said as he gave them a squeeze, your lips setting into a subtle smirk. “Now, why don’t you ride me so I can get a full view of your pretty tits? Mhm?”

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Madri Lager: drunk words

Contents: cursing, just a little conversation between them to set the mood and provide a backdrop for the next fic, not proofread

No fucking way. 

There’s just no fucking way. 

“Why the hell are you here?” You hiss. 

Gojo fucking Satoru strolled into your lecture hall, smug grin on his fuck ugly face, arms folded behind his head and swinging his legs like a maniac. From the doors at the front, he immediately spotted you all the way at the back, sat by your lonesome and you could see his shit-eating grin widen. The whites of his teeth blind you almost as much as his impossibly white hair.

Then, the freak had the audacity to climb the stairs, ignoring the whispering and the pointing, and sat next to you. Well, a seat down because you refused to move your bag, even fought with him a little when he tried to lift it. 

He shrugs, slinging an arm around the back of the chair between you, fingertips way too close to your shoulder, and black sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge. “Was feeling bored so here I am.”

Counting to ten, you tried to put on a patient voice, like you’re berating a child, which you pretty much are, and you grit out, “Bored people take up hobbies. Bored people do things like puzzles and cooking and knitting. Bored people don’t crash lectures and bother other people.”

“I love when you lecture me on common knowledge, wifey. It really warms my heart.” To emphasise his stupid point, he presses a hand to his chest and fans his face with the other. “You’re just so smart.”

You slap his hand away when he tries to boop your nose. People are staring, turning their heads like owls as they strained to listen to your conversations. Some people are taking pictures, no doubt sending it to The Bulletin or whatever, because people have nothing better to do than gossip. You hate this attention; the pointing and whispering because of your appearance you’ve learnt to tolerate, but this? 

This is just irritating on a different level.

At least once a day, a cheerful stranger comes up to you and asks in bewilderment if you’re Gojo’s fiancee. In fact, they ask if you’re really, actually the future wife of Gojo Satoru like he’s some mythical being and you’re a frumpy little worm. Fuck them. And fuck him. 

“Go away, Gojo,” you roll your eyes, typing as much of the lecturer’s notes as you can, a little distracted by the peering eyes around you and the ones running over your clothes . 

He sighs and lifts the lace from your dress, rounding the neckline. You feel it tickle your neck, and you fight the urge to shudder. In disgust. With a forced melodramatic tone, he complains, “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Are you fucking twelve? Go watch a movie like a normal person.”

“Movies are boring,” he retorts as if it’s fact. 

You roll your eyes. “And what? I’m so much more interesting?” 

What a stupid question. You really shouldn’t have asked that because the serious expression on his face as he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug makes you blush. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Did you meet Suguru on the course or was he your piercer first?”

Still typing, you throw him a side glance, feeling suspicious of the sudden change in conversation. But it’s welcomed. “We met on the course. First year. We were in the same class. He’s a good guy.”

Gojo huffs as if he didn’t like your answer. 

The piercer’s actually a decent person; he was friendly, smart, and kind. He made long, boring classes feel shorter with his interesting insights and opinions, and he had such a great way of expressing them — he was the most eloquent male you’ve ever met. However, there was always something off about him, like an inner turmoil that neither you nor he could ever quite understand. 

It was when he absentmindedly said he was thinking of dropping out that you felt you knew him a little better. You both shared a long talk at the back of the Life Sciences building where your little stroll took you, him smoking and you listening to his mutterings. He spoke of this feeling of being out of place, which you understood better than anyone else, and how the traditional path didn’t suit him. He disappeared for a while, a couple months, and you thought your response might have spooked him. After all, no one ever really comes to you for advice. But when he reached out to offer you a free piercing as his first ever client at his newly opened studio, you realised maybe you are capable of dropping an odd pearl here and there. 

“Well, Suguru’s my bestie, so back off,” Gojo pouts.

From your peripheral, you see him eye the big lecture hall and you don’t really know what he’s thinking. It’s an odd realisation to think that Geto, the guy you’ve always kind of admired, is actually friends with this loser – the suggestion that there’s a redeeming quality to the frat guy is one that doesn’t suit you. 

Most times he’s easy to read; he wants fun and excitement and thrill. He does whatever’s convenient or interesting, a totally impulsive guy. But there are rare moments, emphasis on rare, where you think there might be something more going on in that huge head of his. Maybe there’s something deeper to him. A maturity and wisdom he’s yet to show. 

“Fuck, marry or kill,” he lifts three fingers, “Marx, Satre or Aristotle.”

Yeah, unlikely. 

“Gojo, seriously, go away,” you sigh, exasperated. Just five minutes with the guy and you’re already drained. And somehow, you’re expected to live a lifetime with the weirdo?

Satan strike you down. 

“Me personally, Satre’s cute but something about big, bushy beards really gets me going. So, it’ll have to be: kill Aristotle, no offence dude, fuck Satre, and marry Marx.”

Two girls in the row in front of you giggle. Your lips turn down in repulsion. 

“I’m not sure Marx would like either of us, Gojo,” you give him a pointed look. 

He laughs. It’s loud and sudden and he has to say sorry to the entire lecture when it echoes around the hall. Some people laugh at him, or with him, and the lecturer can only shake his head and carry on. This lecturer is strict and merciless when it comes to interruptions, but of course he doesn’t say a thing against the interloper. How could he when there’s a huge placard over the double doors of this building titled ‘From the Loving Hearts of The Gojo Charitable Foundation’?

A couple minutes pass in relative silence, just the tapping of fingers against keyboards and the droning of the professor filling the space, and you think maybe he’s fallen asleep or maybe he’s so bored that he’s actually thinking of leaving. 

Of course, neither of those things happen because the universe hates you. 

Gojo pokes your side with a pen. You writhe with a blush. 

“Oh, ticklish, are we? Very interesting.” He wiggles his brows like an idiot, and you fight the urge to land a punch there. “Our wedding night’s gonna be fun.”

“We’re not going to have one if you had it your way, remember?”

Leaning back in his seat, he taps the pen —where the hell did even get that? He wasn’t carrying a bag— against his chin, considering his words carefully. He shrugs again. “Well, seeing as everyone’s so set on it, I’ve decided to, you could say, open myself to the idea.”

You try to quell the spark of hope there, that maybe your family could be saved, that you’ll be saved. It’s not wise to let that spark fester into something more. 

Gojo’s impulsive. Fact. 

Gojo’s a thrill-seeker. Fact. 

Gojo is an unserious guy set in his bachelor ways. He cannot be relied upon. He cannot be trusted to keep his word.

All facts. 

It’s easy for him to be able to have the option to be ‘open’ to an idea, whereas it’s thrusted upon you without much say. He can wake up and make decisions solely based on his urges, but you have to be mindful of the family’s reputation, your father’s bad habits, your mother’s social conservative ways, and the fact that this is all your fault. 

“Gojo,” you turn, fixing him with a solemn expression, “don’t do that. Don’t lead me on. I may not want to marry you, but I do want to marry. I must. It’s important to me, so please don’t wave it around like it’s some pretty flag.”

There must be something in your eyes, a graveness or a sombre quality that makes his smile disappear. His brows furrow like he’s trying to understand, trying to piece things together but you’re turning away before he could see. 

Clearing his throat, he pokes you again. “Alright. How about this?”

You throw him a doubtful look, worried about what dumbassery is going to leave his mouth. 

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

“Hey! You said that way too quickly.”

Resuming your typing, you’re already trying to drown him out, focused on the history of pragmatic ethics instead of his humoured tone. He’s suggesting something ridiculous again. As if you’d go on a date with him. Him. The guy who’s been getting in the way, the one who’s been making your life difficult and family dinners awkward, and the one you certainly cannot trust to not set up some trap to humiliate you like in the movies. 

“I’m being serious. Let’s go on a date.” Seeing you open your mouth to argue back, he hurriedly adds, “This isn’t fair on me either, y’know? I’m supposed to marry a stranger, one who wears all black and looks like she’d haunt me — not a bad thing, I’m actually kinda into it, question mark? — but my point is, we don’t really know each other. So why don’t we go on a date? It’s a pretty brilliant idea, if I do say so myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mull it over. Sure, it makes sense, it would be good to get to know the freak you’re marrying or supposed to marry. This is how it should have been in the first place. Plus, your mother would certainly approve; she’d think this is a golden opportunity to secure him, to make him fall for you or whatever Mrs. Bennet thing she’s thinking of. 

However, as good as that idea is, you can’t just eagerly agree; there’s no guarantee this isn’t a trap. 

“You’re thinking this is a trap, aren’t you?” Your eyes meet his. He’s grinning ear to ear like he’s proud he guessed correctly. “Why don’t you plan the date, then? Set the time and place, that way there’s no way I could have rigged the environment with explosives or something.”

“No pig blood?”

Gojo smiles even brighter, and you have to squint to prevent losing your vision permanently. 

“No pig blood.”

[unluckilyimnot]

Could you please do a the bofurin boys (especially sugishita) with a reader who's nonverbal with everyone except them?

no verbal s/o except with them - suo, sakura, kaji, sugishita, kiryuu, umemiya

asked by @lost-in-thought-bookworm

Note: hiiii it’s been such a long time I haven't written with them, I’m happy ! i hope it's not bad tho, I'm rarely going non-verbal myself so I hope it's ok

Suo

he teased you at first, saying you were very shy to not even say a word

but when he realized it’s with literally with everyone and that people still interacted fine with you, he got protective around you

if anyone mess with you, they mess with him as well

He knows it immediately when there's something wrong with you, because you're rarely silent around him. He's never obvious about it, gently guiding you where there's less people and keeping you close. You can feel his fingers slowly brushing on the back of your hand. 

“What is it ?” his voice is sweet but commanding, letting you know that you're not moving before he hears about it. Taking your phone out, you're stopped in your motion by his hand and he's shaking his head. 

“I want you to tell me,” he asked furthermore, his face closer to yours now, his nose only a few centimeters away from yours. 

“I'm tired,” you whispered, after a moment and collecting your strength. “I wanna go home.” 

You're rewarded with a soft smile, not the kind of silly smile he gives to most people and kiss your nose. “Then we're leaving.” 

Kiryuu

he’s so happy when you first start talking with him, it’s an understatement, and he doesn’t hide it

you’re his favorite person to talk with and fixate on your voice 

shopping got ten times easier and he’s here for it

“Look ! This one would look so nice on Sakura, don't you think?” Nirei pointed out a shirt while looking at you with big eyes, waiting for you to nod vividly because you usually agree with him. Not this time though. You were out in a store with him and Sakura, waiting for Suo and Kiryuu to come back after they spent some time at the tea’s store. Pointing a particular color on the shirt, you then point at Sakura and make a cross with your arms, signaling them that this color was a no-no for him. 

It was hard to make them understand sometimes, and based on the face Sakura made you were sure he was lost. Before you could take out your phone, the boys came back and Kiryuu passed an arm around your shoulders lazily. “What is it ?” 

Nirei asked them what they thought and, just like you thought, Kiryuu agreed with you. “This color is awful for him, no offense,” said Kiryuu, hoping that Sakura wouldn’t take it harshly. 

“Right ?!” you shouted, smiling his way. 

“It's so much easier when you’re there, Kiryuu,” whined Nirei, not that he hates to go out with you without him. You still type angrily on our phone, ‘you didn’t leave me anytime !’ it showed with your frown, making them laugh. 

Sakura

he’s taken aback because why wouldn’t you talk ?

But he’s sure you didn’t have it easy to be like that so he’s very gentle and patient with you

he talks for you anytime you need

You always get a weird look when the waiter turns to you for your order but Sakura places it for you, that’s something you don’t really get used to. You can’t blame them, they just saw you talking with him but never talk to them or anyone else around the table – if it isn’t just the two of you. Sakura never seems to mind though, well he’s used to being looked at weirdly too. 

“You alright ?” You blink a few times at the question before nodding energetically, but he’s sending you a suspicious look already. “Don’t worry about that, it’ll never change anyway,” he shrugged before going on about last night's event at his school. He goes on for a few minutes, waiting for your answers with a close eye. He's rarely disappointed but when you suddenly look down like that, he's extra careful, just in case you need anything. 

Kaji

he doesn’t hear anyway so it didn’t really matter at first

your friendship was easy thanks to that

but he loves that you talk to him now, it means you trust him enough

Your eyes always light up when you see him coming, it’s like you’re waiting for him all day just to catch a glimpse of him – and he still doesn't know how he feels about it. He takes his headset off, and he knows he’s gonna hear about your day until he walks you home. Giving you a lollipop as well, you tuck your arm with him as you two walk out of the school to nowhere in particular. One hand holding your phone while the other holds the lollipop, just so you can still talk with everyone. 

It always gets him how annoying it might be to talk with him but type for his friends when they ask anything, you could just act like you were talking with him ; but that wouldn’t be welcome from him who spends half of his time with music blasting in his ears. He knows it’s not that easy, but he’s still happy that you answer them and not make any discussion only about you two when they’re around. Plus, it's a little too obvious how happy they are to have you around, hearing you talk even if it’s never to them. He wants all his favorite people to get along.

Sugishita

no need to say that you’re more than compassionate and understand his situation

it took time for you to open up and talk to him, even if he doesn’t always answer

it’s so comfortable for him

He’s not much about talking either, so he never minded at first when it wasn’t really a thing. Then, even when you started talking only with him, it didn’t seem so out of place. He understands it the best, he gets what’s going on in your mind. Hearing your voice isn’t really special anymore, it’s part of his routine and he likes it better that way – why wouldn’t he love hearing your voice when he loves you so much ? 

Mostly, he loves how you can formulate your thoughts despite not doing it much. Deep conversations with you are the best, he likes how well you can formulate your thoughts despite not doing it much or with everyone. It’s hard for him, but he’ll gladly listen to you talk all you want, since it’s specific to him. It’s comfortable, even if you’re not really related to Umemiya – it helps him trust others.

Umemiya

never ever mentioned it, it never mattered to him

he wants you to take your time and talk when you feel safe or feel like it’s the time

even if it never comes

He can't get it out of his head, you actually telling him goodnight yesterday. You stayed a while longer on the rooftop with him, talking about life and anything that comes to his mind until late. You didn't simply waved at him, you told him goodbye. It was the first time he heard your voice and, if he wasn't sure how precious you already were for him, now he's sure.

He doesn't get carried away anyway, maybe it was a one time thing – which was fine. Deep down, he can't wait to see you, just to see if you’ll talk to him or not. His heart flutters when he sees you making your way to him with Toma on the rooftop. You're typing on your phone, showing him quickly before you smile with a nod at his answer. You turn his way once closer and wave at him. 

“Hi, Ume,” you say softly. A small gasp can be heard but nobody mentions it otherwise. He swears his heart was beating a second ago. He smiles at you, holding back from crushing you in his arms. 

After that, it became normal to hear you talk around Umemiya. You never answer without your phone to others, even next to him, but your soft whispers can always be heard – to everyone's pleasure. And for Umemiya, it's a victory. It got him holding his breath every time, full of joy to see you this comfortable with him. 

Let me know if you liked it !

[sunkeji]

Finding out you're a girl 🫵🏻👯‍♀️😱⁉️

A/N: idk guys I lost my train of thought(s) so you get this. I decided to do this differently than the other ones.

C/W: mentions of bra, hinting at your pp (it's nth bad I promise), yuu is reader

Heartslabyul Savanaclaw Octavinelle

Riddle, Trey, Cater

Sorry guys but the Adeuce duo can't keep a secret for shit 😭. They have good intentions I promise but their approach is questionable. You've sent them out to get more pads during one of your horrible cramps. Sam sells them to you so all they need to do is go there, get the right one and come back.

Nothing is easy with them though 😔. Currently, they're crouched on the floor in the store room having a whisper-shouting argument of what sized pads to buy you.

During their heated debate of what kind of pads to get for you, they don't hear their 3 seniors walking into the shop and have stopped an Isle away from the storage room behind them.

"I think Yuu wants the longer ones."

"nah, I think they'll fit the medium one better"

"what? What do you mean by that??"

"you know the..."

"the what???"

"don't make say it!"

After hearing the familiar voices as well as bits and pieces of their unusual conversation coming from the room, Cater opens the door.

"uh what are you guys doing?"

The Adeuce duo whip their heads back to see Cater with his hand still on the door knob, Trey with an eyebrow raised and Riddle having a suspicious look on his face with his arms crossed.

"Are you stealing?" Riddle asks with growing irritation.

The Adeuce duo freeze like deer caught in headlights, their hands still clutching two different-sized packs of pads like they were some kind of forbidden treasure(?).

Ace, ever the quick thinker (or so he thought), blurted out, "We’re not stealing! We’re just… uhh… conducting a very important research project!"

Deuce, even more panicked than Ace aggressively nods his head. "Yeah! For school!"

Riddle’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "Science. For school." His voice was flat, dripping with disbelief.

Trey, ever the peacemaker (but also unable to resist the chaos), leaned in and squinted at the pads in their hands. "Ah, I see. A comparative analysis of absorbency levels?"

Cater, barely holding in his laughter, pulled out his phone. "This is so going on Magicam. ‘Heartslabyul’s Finest: Pad Investigators.’ #NotAllHeroesWearCapes #ButTheyDoBuyPads."

Ace turning bright red. "DON’T YOU DARE—"

Deuce, in a desperate attempt to salvage the situation, held up both boxes like a shield and went on a word vomit;

"Lookwe’rejusttryingtohelpYuu!Shesentustogetthesebecauseshe'sonherperiodandwedon’twannamessitup,andwhilewe'reonthetopic,Yuu'sagirlifyouhaven'tfigureditoutyet"

[Look we’re just trying to help Yuu! She sent us to get these because she's on her period and we don't wanna mess it up, and while we're on the topic, Yuu's a girl if you haven't figured it out yet]

A beat of silence.

Then Riddle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We'd be more surprised if more people didn't know Yuu was a girl with how loud you two idiots always are. We've known since months ago when we heard you guys talking in the corridor"

Trey chimes in bringing focus back to the matter at hand; "So instead of asking which one she needed, you decided to have a covert operation in the storage room?"

Ace cross' his arms defensively. "Well, it’s embarrassing! We didn’t wanna yell it across the store!"

Trey, now fully grinning, shook his head. "Well, it's much too late for that AND Yet here you two are, whisper-shouting about pad sizes loud enough for all of Sage’s Island to hear."

Cater wipes a tear from his eye while giggling. "ugh, I can’t. I just can’t. Yuu’s gonna die when they hear about this."

Deuce groaned, slamming his head into a shelf. "We’re never gonna live this down, are we?"

Riddle, after a long, suffering pause, finally uncrossed his arms. "Just get the overnight ones. And for goodness sake, next time, write it down."

As the seniors walked away (Cater already typing at lightning speed to fill you in on what's happened), Ace and Deuce stood there, defeated, holding the correct pads at last.

Ace: "…We’re never doing Yuu a favor again."**

Deuce: "Agreed..."

Meanwhile, you're back at Ramshackle, curled up in pain, wondering why it’s taking so long to get pads and if you should’ve just asked Grim to steal some instead.

Ace & Deuce

The story starts when these 2 Knuckleheads are hanging out after class with you at the Ramshackle dorm and become curious of your belongings. While you're away, they're in your room opening drawers and looking at your things.

When they eventually get to your wardrobe, they're opening drawers haphazardly and looking at what minimal belongings you have, expecting to see normal guy clothes and hoping to find something to laugh at you about but the first thing they see is a bra. Both of them stop in their tracks and just stare at it speechless.

Deuce picks it up and stares at it while Ace's eyes grow wide and smacks it out of his hands, sending the bra flying. "Don't touch it dummy! don't you know what that is?!".

Unexpectedly, you enter the room at the exact moment your bra lands on the floor, right in front of you.

Ace immediately points at Deuce and shouts; "IT WAS DEUCE! HE'S THE PERVERT!". Deuce immediately gets red at that while shouting that he's not a pervert and then the 2 of them have started slapping and shoving each other, completely forgetting the precarious situation they were caught in.

Grim grabs your pants leg and stares from behind you. "Welp, looks like the cat's out of the bag."

[meleeyz]

┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗦 ꒱

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ Thank you so much for the support on the first oneshot, this is mostly fluff because I have to heal the wounds in my heart that arc two left behind.

୨୧ I'm still learning how to use masterlists and stuff (😿) but you can send me requests if you want! For now I'm only going to write about Ekko (or until I learn how to use tumblr) then I'll post the list of characters I could write for.

୨୧ Inspired by some headcanons of @blllllllllllllllllllue

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The Firelights’ hideout always felt alive, even in its quietest moments, but your little corner was a chaos. It was where you crafted, creating not just the masks that symbolized your rebellion but tiny pieces of identity for your comrades.

"Something like this?" you asked, holding up a rough sketch for the recruit seated across from you. He was new to the team and still shy around most people, but with you, he seemed to relax, likely due to your welcoming demeanor.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” he said, leaning in to inspect it. "But, uh, could you make the eyes a little bigger? I want it to look more… intense."

“Intense. Got it.” You jotted down the adjustment in the margins, smiling as you worked. “Anything else?”

The recruit hesitated for a moment before glancing at you sheepishly. “So, uh, are you Ekko’s girl? Like… his girlfriend?”

The question caught you so off guard that the pencil slipped from your fingers. Heat bloomed in your cheeks, and you scrambled to compose yourself.

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I mean—yes. I am.”

The recruit grinned.

“Thought so. He talks about you all the time.”

Your heart did a funny little flip, equal parts warmth and embarrassment.

“He does?”

“Yeah. Like, a lot. You’d think you hung the moon or something”

The boy’s teasing tone made you flush deeper. Before you could decide whether to be mortified or flattered, another voice broke through.

“Hey! Ekko’s looking for you!” A little boy poked his head in the door, oblivious to the conversation he was interrupting. “Said it’s important.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” You turned back to the recruit, already rising to your feet. “I’ve got everything I need for your mask. I’ll start on it soon.”

“Take your time,” he replied, giving you a knowing look as you walked out.

He nodded, and with a small wave, you left the workshop and made your way to Ekko’s space.

The closer you got to Ekko’s workshop, the quieter the base became, the energy from the rest of the Firelights retreating into the distance. You pushed the door open cautiously, only to find the room eerily calm. The usual clatter of tools and the whir of machinery were absent.

When you stepped inside the workshop, the quiet was almost eerie. Tools and half-built gadgets lay scattered across Ekko’s workbench, but there was no sign of him.

“Ekko?” you called, glancing around.

No answer.

A small knot of worry tightened in your chest.

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny—”

Before you could finish, arms wrapped around you from behind, lifting you off the ground. You let out a startled yelp as you were spun around, your voice mixing with laughter that bubbled up despite yourself.

“Ekko!” you cried, trying to sound indignant, but failing miserably as he set you down, his grin impossibly wide. “You scared the life out of me, you jerk!”

“Couldn’t resist,” he admitted, still chuckling. His voice carried that familiar mix of playfulness and warmth that always made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in and planted a quick kiss on your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

You swatted at his arm, trying to suppress a smile.

“What did you need me for, anyway? And don’t say it was just to scare me.”

“Relax, Firefly,” he teased, stepping back. “I’ve got something for you. Close your eyes.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“If this is another prank—”

“It’s not,” he said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Promise. Just trust me.”

After a brief hesitation, you sighed and shut your eyes.

“Okay, but if you throw something at me—”

“Shh. No peeking.”

You heard him moving around, the soft clang of metal and the scrape of something being picked up. Your curiosity burned, but you kept your eyes closed, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides.

“Alright,” Ekko said finally. “Open.”

When you did, your breath caught. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers—each one was intricately crafted from scrap metal, their petals shaped and welded together with incredible precision. They shimmered faintly in the light, their edges polished to a soft gleam.

“I made these for you,” Ekko said, his voice quieter now, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react. His smile, though, was radiant, the little gap in his front teeth only adding to its charm. “You like them?”

“Like them?” you echoed, reaching out to take the bouquet. “Ekko, they’re beautiful. You made these?”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking both proud and bashful.

“Yeah. Thought you’d appreciate something… different. Real flowers don’t last long down here”

You turned the bouquet in your hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. Each flower was unique, and the care he’d put into them was evident in every detail. Your chest felt tight with emotion as you looked back at him.

“Why, though? What’s the occasion?”

Ekko’s grin returned, mischievous but endearing.

“The right way to ask my girlfriend out on a date. Tonight.”

Your lips parted in surprise.

“A date?”

“Yeah. Thought it was time we did something just for us. No missions. Just you and me.” He stepped closer, his gaze locked on yours. “So, what do you say?”

A warm, fuzzy silence hung between you, the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes tying your tongue. Your gaze flicked to his lips, the same thought clearly mirrored in his mind as he leaned closer.

The moment stretched as the world outside seemed to blur and fade. Just as your lips were about to meet—

“Oh, uh, sorry!”

Both you and Ekko jumped apart as the recruit from earlier barged in, a sheepish look on his face.

“I just—uh—I had another idea for the mask and thought—”

Ekko sighed loudly, his previous grumpiness overtaking his usual charm.

“Seriously?”

“I’ll just—uh—leave” the recruit stammered, already retreating back through the door.

You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s fine,” you told him. “We can talk about it later.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension melting away as you stepped back.

“Guess we’ll have to finish this later, huh?”

Ekko’s pout was almost comical.

“You owe me, Firefly.”

As you turned to leave, you blew him a playful kiss. Ekko grinned, pretending to catch it in midair and press it to his chest.

“See you later.”

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