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losermuse · 1 day ago

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HOW TO MANIPULATE WIN YOUR EX BACK 101 ~ by caleb

CW: 18+ (mdni), fem & non-hunter mc, delusional yandere!caleb, pet names (baby & pipsqueak), male & female masturbation (separate), piv (in caleb’s imagination) , praise kink, panty sniffing, voyeurism (?), stalking, manipulation, gaslighting, power dynamic. WC: 9.4k AN: finally posting this after a month! comments & reblogs are highly appreciated <3

Your relationship with Caleb was brief, just a few months, but it felt suffocatingly long. You had always valued your independence, the freedom to spread your wings and fly wherever you pleased. But with him? It was like having those wings clipped, held down by invisible strings of concern, control, and possessiveness disguised as love.

At first, it was subtly sweet. The way he always wanted to know where you were, checking in constantly like he cared a little too much. The way he insisted on picking you up from work, from dinners, from places you were perfectly capable of leaving on your own.

But then it escalated.

Questions turned into interrogations. Concerns turned into restrictions. Suddenly, your phone buzzed with his messages every time you were out, and your decisions were met with disapproving looks and lectures disguised as "worry."

And it only got worse because you had no Evol, no abilities to shield you from danger, no built-in safeguard if something went wrong. To him, that made you vulnerable, fragile and in need of someone like him. But seriously though, you have managed just fine before he ever came into your life.

At first, you tolerated it, convincing yourself it was just his way of showing love. You dismissed it as a habit from his job as a colonel, structured, disciplined, and always anticipating worst-case scenarios. You told yourself it was normal, that some people love fiercely, protectively and maybe that’s true.

But love shouldn’t feel like surveillance. It shouldn’t feel like being second-guessed at every turn, like justifying your choices to someone who sees your independence as a threat instead of a strength. It shouldn’t feel like ripping your wings, like trading your freedom for someone else’s comfort.

And the moment you realized that? You knew it was over.

–

The phone buzzed in your hand, ‘Caleb ♡’ flashing across the screen for the fifth time in a row. You hesitated, exhaling slowly before finally answering.

“You’re still ignoring me?” His voice came through the speaker, tight with frustration. No hello. No softness.

You rolled your eyes, shifting the suitcase beside you. “I’m not ignoring you, Caleb. I’m busy packing.”

“For that trip,” he said flatly.

“Yes. For that trip.”

A tense silence stretched between you. Then, with a humourless laugh, he said, “So you’re really going through with this?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already exhausted. “Caleb, I’ve told you a hundred times—this is happening. It’s just me and the girls. It’s not a big deal.”

“But it is to me,” he snapped. “You’re leaving for an entire weekend, in Linkon City, with no one looking out for you. Do you know how dangerous that is? Especially with the Wanderers around.”

Your grip tightened on the phone. “Linkon City is perfectly safe, thanks to the Hunters, and I know how to take care of myself.”

“That’s not the point.” His voice dropped, low and insistent. “What if something happens to you? What if you need me and I’m not there?”

You let out a sharp laugh. “Caleb, something always ‘might’ happen. I could trip over my own feet walking down the street, and you’d still act like I need supervision.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is you thinking my freedom is something you have a right to control.”

Another silence. You could almost picture him now, jaw clenched, hands running through his hair in frustration. But you were past the point of softening your words to ease his temper.

“I love you,” he finally said, voice quieter now. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart clenched, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “You already did.”

Caleb drew in a breath like he was about to argue, to find the right words to pull you back, but you didn’t give him the chance. You ended the call before he could even try, letting the silence speak for itself.

She’s gone…she actually just hung up on me. Just like that?

She thinks she’s done with me? Cute. Adorable, even. She’s just confused right now. A phase. A temporary lapse in judgment. I mean, we were practically perfect together—okay, maybe not perfect, but close enough. We had a good thing. I’ll give her a few weeks or months to stew over it. She’ll come back. She just doesn’t know it yet.

She needs “freedom”? Sure. Great. Go ahead and get your little “freedom,” pipsqueak. Go on your trip with the girls and post your little Instagram stories with your cocktails and your cheesy ‘healing’ captions. I’ll pretend like I’m not paying attention to the comments or checking who’s liking every picture.

But the second she realizes that no one out there will worship the ground she walks on like I do? The second she sees that no other guy will remember every little detail about her—how she likes her tea, how she hums that one song when she’s doing the dishes but refuses to admit it’s her favourite, how she’s got a million tabs open on her browser but never actually reads anything?

She’ll come running back.

She’ll remember how good we were together. How great we were.

I will wait for you when you are ready.

–

You felt… liberated, to say the least. A weekend away with your girlfriends was just what you needed. You spent hours catching up, sharing stories, and laughing—something you hadn't realized you’d missed so much. When you told them about your breakup with Caleb, they were surprised but not entirely shocked. They knew you valued your independence too much to settle for anything less than respect, and Caleb's overbearing nature had always been a point of concern for them.

The weekend unfolded in a blissful blur of indulgence and carefree moments. You enjoyed fancy dinners, basked under the sun at the beach, and dipped your feet into the pool while losing yourself in a book. You sipped on refreshing mocktails, took silly pictures, and felt the weight of stress melt away.

At the beach, you and your friends lounged on the warm sand, indulging in playful eye-candy scouting, and a man with dusky purple hair and striking bluish-pink eyes caught your attention. He looked almost unreal, like something pulled from the pages of a fairytale. Ethereal. Enchanting. If mermaids walked on land, you were certain they’d look just like him.

Unbeknownst to you, Caleb took matters into his own hands. While you were away, he broke into your apartment—too bad your security wasn’t up to par. That’s exactly why you needed someone like him, right? His eyes roamed your personal space like it was land he wasn’t prepared to lose. He set up cameras carefully, one in the living room, another in your bedroom, and even one in the bathroom. To Caleb, letting you slip away wasn’t an option.

He’d give you the space you demanded, sure, but only on his terms. In his mind, you were still his regardless of what you thought. He convinced himself that it was his right to keep watch and to ensure your safety, with or without your consent.

–

When you returned to Skyhaven, it hit you—reality, that is. Back to your job, back to your life, and Caleb…well, Caleb wasn’t part of that anymore. You have ended things. It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. You had expected him to bombard you with texts, but surprisingly, your phone was quiet. Too quiet.

You even posted a picture of yourself in that dress—the one that hugged your figure just right, the colours bright against your skin and the way the hibiscus in your hair caught the light. You were proud of how you looked, but when you checked your notifications, there was no comment, no like from him. A little part of you felt a pang, but you shook it off.

What you didn’t know was that Caleb had seen the picture, and it consumed him. He was furious, very furious that you dared to wear something so revealing, something that might catch the eye of someone else, without him there. If you were going to wear something like that, it should’ve been with him by your side, where he could keep an eye on you. He would’ve let you wear it, after all, he could fight anyone who dared to look too long, but without him around? It made his blood boil.

And yet, despite the frustration, his body betrayed him. The second he saw that picture, he was already half-hard. God, you guys had never even fucked. You had called it “too soon” and had wanted to take things slow, and fine—he respected that. Somewhat. But damn, you had no idea how badly you messed with him, how pent-up he always was around you.

His fist clenched as he freed himself from his sweatpants, his cock already straining. One hand gripping his phone, the other wrapped around his length, stroking slowly as he imagined it was you—your soft hands and your cunt wrapped around him instead.

His breathing turned ragged as the images flooded his mind. He pictured you beneath him, stretched wide with your voice trembling as you begged him to go slow, to be gentle. Fuck, he wanted to come, but the frustration twisted inside him, mixing with his hunger. He needed more. He needed you.

Tossing his phone aside, he got up and strode to his dresser, yanking open the drawer. And there it was, the hidden treasure—delicate and lace-trimmed, the soft fabric nestled right where he left it. Your panties.

He may or may not have swiped them when he was setting up the cameras in your apartment, but did that matter? That’s the least you could do for breaking up with him over the phone.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he brought them to his face, inhaling deeply with his eyes fluttering shut. The scent was faint, just traces of laundry detergent and fabric softener, but he wanted more. He wanted them used, soaked in your scent, dripping in proof of how much you needed him. His fingers tightened around the fabric as he pumped his cock faster, lost in the thought of ruining you, marking you, making sure you never even considered leaving him again.

"Caleb!" Your voice cracked, high and desperate. His cock twitched at the sound.

He could almost feel it—the way your walls clenched around him, trying to force him out while greedily pulling him back in.

"St–stop!"

He chuckled darkly, leaning down, his breath hot against your ear. "Stop?" he echoed mockingly. His hand gripped your thigh, pressing your legs apart despite the way you trembled beneath him. "You’re squeezing me so tight, pips. You don’t really want me to stop, do you?"

Your nails dug into his shoulders, useless resistance. "N-no… but—"

“That’s right,” he growled, thrusting deeper, drinking in the way you choked on your own breath. "You take me so well. Like you were made for this. Made for me."

He imagined your head tilting back, lips trembling, and body writhing against the sheets, too fucked-out to fight him anymore. Your voice, once filled with hesitation, melted into helpless little whimpers.

"Too—too much, Caleb…"

“Too much?” He kissed down your throat, his teeth scraping against your pulse. "But pipsqueak, I’m just getting started."

His strokes quickened, both in reality and the vivid fantasy he was spiralling deeper into. The panties in his grasp crumpled under the force of his grip, his knuckles turning white as he pressed the fabric against his nose, desperate to drown in the ghost of your presence.

He could see it so clearly—you spreading out beneath him, legs trembling and tears glistening in your eyes. Wrecked. Shattered.

“That’s my girl. You don’t need to think, just feel. Let me take care of you.”

His hips jerked, pleasure coiling tight, winding dangerously. He imagined the final moment—your body arching, your lips parting in a silent scream as he claimed you.

A guttural groan tore from his throat as his release overtook him, thick ropes of white spilling over his abs and chest. His body shuddered, fingers twitching, and his breath was unsteady.

But as the high ebbed, a bitter frustration gnawed at him.

It wasn’t enough.

Because it wasn’t you. Not yet.

step 1: show her that youre a 'changed man'

‘coincidentally’ run into her

dress well (make sure she notices)

speak softly

give her the puppy eyes, shes always been weak for that

ask her if she wanna be friends

smile, but not too much

A few months had passed since the breakup. Life moved forward, as it always did. You missed him sometimes, small moments of nostalgia creeping in when you passed by places you once shared. But you reminded yourself why you left. Missing someone didn’t mean you belonged with them.

Caleb, however, never truly left.

He had been watching. Through the flickering screens in his dimly lit room, through the quiet hum of surveillance, he had memorised every part of your life. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear while reading, the way you curled up on the couch with your favourite mug. He studied your routine like a scripture.

And now, it was time.

He knew your new favourite café—how you liked to sit by the window, how you always ordered the same drink. So when he "accidentally" ran into you, it would feel natural.

A harmless coincidence.

"Wow, I wasn’t expecting to see you here… You look good."

Your head snapped up at the familiar voice. “Oh… hey.” Your fingers instinctively tightened around your cup before you forced yourself to relax, putting your phone down. The awkwardness between you was obvious.

He took a step closer, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket with a casual posture. “I wasn’t sure if I should say hi. I didn’t want to bother you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Caleb you remembered. He always carried himself with confidence, sometimes bordering on arrogance. But now… he seemed different. Softer.

“It’s fine,” you replied, clearing your throat. “It’s… been a while.”

“It has,” he agreed, the purple eyes you once adored scanned your face like he was memorising you all over again. “You look… happy.”

You shifted in your seat. “I am.”

A small, almost wistful smile tugged at his lips. “That’s good. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

The words landed heavily, leaving a strange warmth in your chest—guilt? Sadness? You weren’t sure.

Before you could respond, he gestured toward the chair across from you. “Do you mind if I sit? Just for a minute. I don’t want to make things weird, I just—” He exhaled softly, shaking his head with a sheepish chuckle. “I don’t know. Seeing you here gave me whiplash.”

The hesitation in his voice, the way he seemed almost vulnerable. It made it hard to say no.

“…Yeah, okay. Just for a minute.”

He sat down, hands clasped together on the table, eyes never leaving yours.

“So,” he started, offering a small smile, “tell me, what’s new?”

"Nothing much, just work and stuff," you said, offering a shrug as you took another sip from your coffee. You felt a little uncomfortable, but you didn’t want to make it obvious. He was just sitting there, quietly watching you, like he was soaking in every detail of your response.

“Ah, yeah, I get that. Work can really take over sometimes,” he replied, nodding sympathetically. “I’ve been keeping busy too. Just… trying to focus on myself, y’know?”

You nodded, unsure of where this conversation was going. “That’s good. It’s important to focus on yourself.”

A quiet moment passed, and he cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking a lot about… things, y’know, since we last talked. I’ve had time to reflect, and I realised I probably could’ve done a lot better. With us.” His voice softened, almost vulnerable.

You felt a strange discomfort at his words, unsure how to respond. “I—I mean… we’re good now, right?” You paused, awkwardly fidgeting with the edge of your coffee cup. “It’s all in the past.”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. There was a sincerity in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. “Yeah, I know. I… I’ve been working on myself. I’ve changed, really. I just hope that…you’re doing okay.”

“I’m good. Really.” You forced a smile, trying to dismiss the flood of emotions that were slowly rising within you. “I’m happy. I’m in a good place.”

He nodded slowly, his lips curling into a small, almost bittersweet smile. “I’m glad. I just wanted you to know that I—” He paused, looking down at his hands, then back up at you. “I never stopped caring about you, y’know? I’ve always wanted what’s best for you.”

“Caleb…” you started, unsure how to respond, but your thoughts were jumbled. What was he saying? Was he genuinely apologising?

“I know things ended badly, but I just… I wanted you to know that I’ve learned from all of it. From my mistakes. And I’m not asking for anything, but maybe, just maybe, we could start over as friends? Take things slow…?”

You bit your lip, feeling a sudden rush of conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that he had changed, but the other part of you… was still wary. You didn’t want to repeat past mistakes.

“I don’t know,” you murmured, glancing down at your cup, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s all of a—”

“Just think about it,” he interjected gently, his tone almost pleading. “I’m not asking for much, just… a chance to show you that I’ve changed. That I’m different.”

You stared at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. For a moment, it felt like you were teetering on the edge of something you didn’t know if you were ready for. But Caleb, the version of him sitting across from you now, seemed almost like a stranger. Yet there was something familiar about his presence.

“I… I don’t know, Caleb,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need time.”

His face softened, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure as his words sank in. “Alright, I’ll think about it.”

Caleb let out a slow breath as if he had been holding it in, his lips curling into the softest smile. But it wasn’t just the smile—it was the way his eyes rounded slightly, a flicker of vulnerability creeping into his usually confident gaze.

“Really?” His voice was just a little too hopeful, like he wasn’t expecting you to even consider it. “You’ll think about it?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like the bad guy for making him wait. “I didn’t say yes,” you reminded him quickly, gripping your cup a little tighter. “I just… need time like I said.”

He nodded eagerly, that soft, almost puppy-like expression still in place. “Of course. I get it. Take all the time you need.” His fingers tapped lightly against the table before he let out a breathy chuckle. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

And just like that, the tension in your chest eased—only slightly, but enough to make you feel like maybe, maybe you had been too hard on him.

Caleb watched as you hesitated, the smallest flicker of indecision in your eyes. It was barely there, but he caught it, and inside, he was grinning. You were already bending, already second-guessing.

He pushed back his chair, standing with an effortless grace. “I should probably get going,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I didn’t mean to take up so much of your evening.”

You blinked. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”

He hesitated for just a second longer, then flashed you one last smile—the perfect mix of warmth and quiet longing. “I’ll be around,” he said, his voice soft, before making his way to the door.

As he stepped outside, the cool night air hitting his skin, he let his expression shift. His smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, triumphant. You had no idea, did you?

His plan was falling into place perfectly.

Step 1: Successful.

step 2: make her doubt herself and weaken her boundaries

highlight her ‘flaws’ even though shes already perfect

emphasise her independence a lot

buy wine and cook sweet and sour chicken with rice

stock up on apples

After the unexpected run-in with Caleb, you didn’t expect things to go anywhere, at least not like this. But somehow, things started feeling easy again between you two, like the months apart had melted away in the span of a few casual conversations. He always had that ability, didn’t he? He made everything feel natural and effortless, even though you knew it shouldn’t.

It was part of his charm, after all—the reason you’d fallen for him in the first place.

The invitation was where it all started.

“You have to let me cook for you,” he insisted, flashing that easy grin. “You always loved my cooking. Just one meal, no pressure.”

And somehow, you found yourself here again.

His penthouse hadn’t changed at all since the last time you were here—same sleek, modern design, the ambient lighting casting a soft glow over the dark furniture. The air smelled warm and familiar, a mix of spices and something distinctly Caleb. You sat at the dining table, watching him move around the kitchen like a busy housewife. The soft sizzle of sweet and sour chicken filled the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly steamed rice.

He plated the food with the same care he always did, setting it in front of you before finally taking a seat beside you instead of across from you like he used to. Close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.

“Go on,” he urged, nudging your spoon toward you.

You picked it up hesitantly and took a bite. The flavours burst on your tongue—sweet, tangy, and perfectly balanced. It reminded you of nights when this used to be normal. When Caleb would cook, you’d sit beside him, talking about everything and nothing.

“Still the best cook I know,” you admitted, offering a small smile.

He chuckled, nudging his knee against yours under the table. “I’ll take that as the highest compliment.”

He took a bite of his own, watching you carefully as you ate. Then, after a pause, his expression softened.

“You look tired.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He gestured subtly toward you. “Your eyes. A little duller than usual. And you’ve been rubbing your temples since you got here.”

You forced a laugh, setting your spoon down. “I guess I’ve been busy.”

He hummed, swirling his drink in his hand. “You always push yourself too hard. You used to do the same thing when we were together, remember?”

You tensed slightly. “I’ll manage.”

“I know you will,” he said smoothly. “You always do. But that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?”

You frowned, slightly offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to something softer—something that felt too close, too knowing. “You never let yourself slow down. Even when you’re exhausted, you just push through it.” He shook his head, smiling faintly. “You used to get those headaches from working too much, and you’d act like it was nothing until I made you stop and rest.”

Your fingers curled slightly against the table.

“I used to love that about you,” he continued, voice warm, laced with nostalgia. “How stubborn you are. How much you take on without ever asking for help.”

“I don’t need help,” you said, a little too quickly.

His lips barely twitched, as if he’d expected that answer. “I know.” He leaned back slightly, taking a slow sip of his drink. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”

The warmth of the room suddenly felt heavier.

You forced another small laugh, reaching for your glass. “I’m fine, Caleb.”

He smiled, but there was something knowing in his eyes. “Of course.”

The conversation drifted to safer topics after that, but the weight of his words lingered. By the time you set your spoon down, you couldn’t shake the strange unease settling in your chest.

Maybe you were pushing yourself too hard. Maybe you weren’t as fine as you thought.

Maybe… Caleb wasn’t wrong.

He didn’t miss the way your spoon hovered slightly above your plate, how your eyes drifted just a little too long, lost in thought. The confident ease you had when you first arrived had faltered, just for a second, but it was enough.

You were thinking about what he said.

A quiet satisfaction curled in his chest, but he didn’t press. Instead, he let out a soft chuckle, nudging your knee again. “I didn’t mean to kill the mood,” he said lightly. “You got really quiet on me.”

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. “Oh—sorry. I was just…thinking, I guess.”

His lips twitched. Perfect.

He tilted his head slightly, resting his chin against his hand. “Heavy thoughts?”

You hesitated, then shrugged, forcing a small smile. “Maybe…I have been overworking myself a little.”

That was all he needed.

His expression softened, the perfect mix of concern and understanding. “See? That’s all I meant. I worry that’s all.” He exhaled, leaning back slightly. “You give so much of yourself to everything you do, but who’s making sure you don’t burn out?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. You had friends, of course. People who cared. But… no one really checked in on you like that. Not in the way Caleb always had.

You shook your head as if physically trying to push the thought away. “I’ll manage,” you repeated.

Caleb let a small, knowing smile creep onto his lips before setting his drink down.

Not for long.

A beat of silence settled before he suddenly stood, stretching slightly. “Why don’t I cut us some apples?” he said, already moving toward the kitchen. “I bought some fresh ones this morning. You’ll love them.”

You blinked at the sudden shift in topic. “Oh—um, you don’t have to.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder. “I want to.” His lips curved as he reached for a knife. “Besides, they say an apple a day keeps the doctor away, right?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re such a goof.”

Caleb smirked but didn’t respond as he started slicing. The rhythmic thunk of the blade against the cutting board filled the space, and you watched as he didn’t just cut the apples into simple wedges, he carved them into small bunny shapes.

Your brows lifted. “Are you seriously making bunny apples right now?”

He smirked, carefully peeling back the “ears” of one of the slices. “Obviously. What, you think I’d just give you a boring apple slice?”

You leaned forward slightly, intrigued despite yourself. “Since when do you know how to do that?”

Caleb shot you a knowing look as he set another bunny slice onto the plate. “I have my secrets.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He chuckled, finally returning to his seat beside you with the plate, setting it down between you both. The little apple bunnies were lined up neatly, their tiny “ears” perked up as if they were waiting to be eaten.

You stared at them, then at him. “I hate that this is actually kinda impressive.”

He grinned, picking one up for himself. “I accept your reluctant admiration.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you picked up an apple bunny and took a bite. It was crisp, sweet, and frustratingly perfect.

“See?” Caleb murmured, watching you with quiet satisfaction. “Worth the effort, right?”

You swallowed, shaking your head. “You’re so weird.”

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, nudging his knee against yours again. “Still eating my expertly crafted bunny apples.”

You huffed but didn’t argue. The playful exchange had lightened the air between you, momentarily softening your earlier hesitations.

And Caleb, watching the way your guard lowered just a little more, couldn’t help but smile.

Step 2? Already working.

step 3: make her depend on you

catch her lacking

secretly send the gym voucher in her mail

act natural

comfort her when she vents

touch her and stay close to her

It had been a week since Caleb’s words lodged themselves in your mind like an unwelcome guest. You give so much and don’t feel appreciated enough. You had brushed it off at the time, but the thought had lingered, creeping back in at moments you least expected.

That was probably why you were here now, in a gym of all places, desperate to burn off the frustration bubbling inside you, to drown out the noise in your head while your feet pounded against the treadmill.

Still, the fact that you ended up here felt like a weird coincidence. A few days ago, you received a gym voucher in the mail—an exclusive trial membership with an almost suspiciously good discount. You weren’t even sure how it ended up in your mailbox. You had never been the gym type, and you certainly hadn’t signed up for anything like this. But it was affordable, and after the week you had, it felt like a sign from the universe. (It wasn’t. It was Caleb)

Work had been exhausting. Again. Your boss barely acknowledged your input, and one particular smug bastard had conveniently taken full credit for your idea, flashing that self-satisfied grin like he’d done all the work.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. Your fingers hovered over the treadmill’s controls before you cranked up the speed. If only you could just run him over with a car and—

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

The familiar voice cut through the gym’s ambient noise, and for a second, your fingers twitched against the treadmill’s handles.

You turned your head, already bracing yourself and oh my god.

Caleb stood beside you, effortlessly leaning against the treadmill next to yours, a towel slung lazily around his neck, a water bottle in one hand. The athletic shorts highlighted the muscles in his legs, and his white workout shirt clung to his chest in a way that made you way too aware of how well he filled it out. The faint sheen of sweat on his skin told you he had been here for a while.

You forced yourself to look away. “Yeah, well… needed to clear my head.” You coughed, willing your pulse to settle.

He raised an eyebrow as he stepped onto the treadmill beside you, setting his pace to a casual jog. “Didn’t realize you went to the gym.”

You let out a short breath, still jogging. “Is that an insult?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Not at all. Just… surprised.” His eyes flicked toward your treadmill screen, tracking your speed. “Didn’t peg you as the intense type.”

You scoffed, wiping a stray strand of hair from your face. “Well, maybe you’re not the only one who’s changed.”

He hummed, his expression unreadable. “Maybe.”

He didn’t need to say more. The seed was already planted.

Caleb kept pace beside you, his breathing even and movements effortless. It was infuriating how easily he made it look like he wasn’t even trying. Meanwhile, you were actively fighting the urge to focus on the burning in your legs, determined not to let him see you struggle.

“So,” he started, voice smooth and casual, “bad day at work?”

You exhaled sharply. “Something like that.”

“Let me guess,” he mused, glancing at you. “Your boss ignored your input again, and some asshole took credit for your idea?”

Your steps faltered just slightly before you caught yourself. “How—”

Caleb let out a chuckle. “You always get this look when you’re pissed about work. It’s subtle, but I’ve seen it before.”

You frowned, not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed. “Right. Forgot you were a human lie detector or whatever.”

“Not a lie detector,” he corrected, his smirk deepening. “Just really good at reading you.”

The worst part? He wasn’t wrong. Caleb had always known how to read you, sometimes even before you could fully process your own emotions. He had a way of catching onto things, of noticing the smallest shifts in your mood. It used to be comforting. Now, it felt a little dangerous.

You swallowed, fixing your gaze ahead. “Well, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Of course,” he said easily. “You’re strong. Always have been.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, throwing off your rhythm for half a second. You recovered quickly, but not before Caleb noticed.

His smirk softened. “But even strong people get tired.”

Your grip tightened on the treadmill handles. Damn it. You hated how easily his words seeped under your skin, how they poked at the very thing you’d been trying to suppress all day.

“So what?” you said, forcing a lightness into your tone. “You think I need a pep talk?”

Caleb’s eyes never left you. “I think you need a reminder that you don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

Your breath hitched.

For a moment, you didn’t respond, focusing on the rhythmic pounding of your feet against the treadmill. It was easier than acknowledging the warmth creeping up your spine, the way his words sat heavy in your chest.

This was exactly what you didn’t need.

The problem with Caleb was that he made things sound so simple. He made it so easy to forget why you left, why you needed space. He said the right things, knew which buttons to press, and worst of all, he still made you feel.

And that? That was a risk you weren’t sure you could afford.

You let out a breath, slowing your pace slightly. “Well, thanks for the unsolicited wisdom, Dr. Phil.”

Caleb chuckled, shaking his head. “Anytime.”

A silence settled between you, not quite uncomfortable but charged with something you refuse to acknowledge.

Caleb then stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders. “Y’know, since you’re new here, I could show you around. Make sure you don’t, I don’t know, drop a weight on your foot or something.”

You shot him a dry look. “Wow, so much faith in me.”

“Just looking out for you,” he said, that damn smirk back in place. “Like I always have.”

And there it was again—that reminder. That thread of familiarity, of us, woven so seamlessly into his words.

You hesitated. Just for a second.

And Caleb saw it, felt it.

He wasn’t in a rush. This was all part of the game.

So when you finally sighed and mumbled, “Fine. But no unsolicited advice,” he just grinned.

Step 3 was right on track.

–

You come back from the gym feeling drained and your muscles aching. Caleb had taken it upon himself to train you after the tour, just the basics, he said, nothing too serious, he said. But the way his hands lingered, the way his voice dropped lower every time he corrected your form, sent a slow-burning heat through you that had nothing to do with exercise.

"You’re tensing up too much. Relax…there you go."

You dragged a hand through your hair, exhaling. It was just adrenaline.

But when you closed your eyes, all you could think about was the way his fingers skimmed your sides, the quiet hum of his approval when you finally got the movement right. The way his eyes had looked at you.

"Good girl. Just like that."

Fuck it.

Now, alone in your bedroom, you collapsed onto your bed, chest rising and falling, but the tension in your body hadn’t faded. If anything, it had settled deep, persistent, and impossible to ignore.

You dragged your gym shirt over your head, tossing it aside, but the heat clinging to your skin didn’t dissipate. Your body still burned with something you refused to name, something that pulsed between your thighs with every replayed memory of his touch.

Your hand trailed up, fingers skimming over your sports bra and squeezing the swell of your breast. A small sigh escaped you as your other hand slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. The moment your fingers brushed against your clit, a soft gasp left your lips.

Your body was already so sensitive, so needy, and the more you teased yourself, the worse it got. Every stroke sent another wave of heat pooling in your belly, and in your mind, it wasn’t your own fingers—it was his.

You could almost hear him. That low, amused chuckle, the way his breath would fan against your ear as he murmured, "Look at you, already so desperate for me."

You kicked off your shorts and underwear, your movements impatient, your body aching for more. Reaching for a pillow, you slid it between your thighs, pressing down as you began to move, grinding against it, and each roll of your hips sending sharp pleasure through you.

Your back arched as you picked up the pace, riding the pillow as if it were his cock, panting softly as you clutched at your breasts, pinching your nipples. Your mind painted the image so vividly, Caleb beneath you, his hands gripping your hips, watching you fall apart on top of him.

"That’s it, baby. Just like that."

A needy whimper escaped your lips as you buried your face into the sheets, fingers tugging at your hardened nipples, pretending it was his mouth teasing you, his tongue flicking and sucking until you were squirming.

Meanwhile, across Skyhaven.

Caleb ran a towel through his damp hair as he stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around him. The gym session had gone even better than he planned. He could see it, the way your breath hitched, the way your body tensed under his hands. You were already slipping, already wavering. He also made a mental note about that bastard at your workplace, promising himself he’d handle him soon. But for now, he needed to clear his head.

With a sigh, he tossed the towel over his shoulder, water droplets rolling down his chest as he made his way through the penthouse. He hadn’t even planned on stopping by his office, just a quick glance at the screens, a habit more than anything.

But then he saw it.

His feet stilled at the doorway, his gaze locking onto the upper-right monitor. His office, lined with walls of screens, glowed softly in the dim lighting. Each feed displayed different angles of your apartment, and on one particular screen made his breath hitch.

There you were, back in your bedroom, stripped down, thighs straddling a pillow as you rocked against it, your brows furrowed in desperate pleasure.

Caleb's grip on the towel tightened, his body instantly reacting.

"Caleb…"

His restraint snapped.

His hand palmed over the towel, groaning low in his throat. Fuck. You were thinking about him. Even when he wasn’t touching you, even when he was taking his time, you still belonged to him.

Looks like he could skip Step 4. It was time for the final move.

final step: coaxing her back

You wanted to slap yourself. Who in their right mind gets off thinking about their ex?

Yet, no matter how much you tried to push the thought away, Caleb had begun to crawl into every corner of your mind. It was like a spell had been cast, wrapping around you and pulling you under.

The night had started with rain, thick sheets of it pouring down as you walked home, the soft patter against your umbrella the only sound accompanying you. You kicked at the puddles absently, trying to focus on anything other than the memories clawing their way back to the surface.

Then, headlights cut through the downpour. A sleek black Lamborghini Lanzador slowed beside you, its engine a deep and familiar purr. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Caleb behind the wheel—one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting against his temple as he watched you with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“You seriously weren’t going to call me for a ride?” His voice was warm and teasing.

You hesitated. “I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think,” he echoed, shaking his head before unlocking the door. “Get in before you drown, pipsqueak.”

You scowled, shutting your umbrella with a sharp snap before getting in. “I hate it when you call me that.”

He only smirked.

The door clicked shut behind you, and before you even finished buckling your seatbelt, Caleb pulled back onto the road. The rain drummed softly against the windows, the warmth inside the car doing little to ease the tension winding tight in your chest.

“Seriously, stop calling me that,” you muttered, arms crossed.

Caleb glanced at you, the corners of his lips twitching. “What? Pipsqueak?”

Your jaw clenched. “Yes, that.”

He chuckled, effortlessly changing gears. “Why does it bother you so much?”

“Because it’s condescending,” you shot back. “Like I’m some kid.”

He smirked. “I don’t think you’re a kid.”

“Then why do you insist on calling me that?”

“Because it gets under your skin,” he admitted without hesitation. “And because you make the cutest face when you’re annoyed.”

You glared. “You are insufferable.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back, but… you had nothing. He wasn’t wrong. You were here. Despite every reason you had to keep your distance, despite all the time and space and unspoken things lingering between you, you still got into his car.

Caleb must have sensed the shift in your silence because his smirk faded, replaced by something quieter, something almost hesitant.

“I mean it, though,” he said, his voice softer. “I don’t call you that to belittle you.”

You turned your head, studying his face, searching for the usual mischief—but there was none.

“Then why?” you asked, wary.

His fingers tightened briefly around the steering wheel before he exhaled. “Because it reminds me of before.”

Your stomach twisted.

Before.

Your frustration boiled over, heat rising to your cheeks. Without thinking, you reached for the door handle, fingers wrapping around it with the full intention of getting out—moving car be damned.

Caleb’s sharp gaze flicked to you instantly. “Don’t even think about it.”

You shot him a look, jaw tight. “Then stop the car.”

He didn’t. Instead, he pressed a button on the console, and with a soft click, the doors locked.

You froze, snapping your head toward him. “Are you serious?”

He exhaled through his nose, eyes back on the road. “Dead serious.”

Your jaw clenched. “Let me out.”

“Not when we’re going 60 on a wet road.”

You huffed, shifting in your seat, nails digging into your palms. “Unbelievable.”

Caleb sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

The rest of the drive passed in tense silence.

Then, instead of pulling up to your place, Caleb eased the car to a stop in front of a café. You blinked, frowning as you looked out the window. The familiar glow of the storefront sign illuminated the street, reflecting off the slick pavement.

Your fingers tightened around the door handle before you turned to him.

“Why are we here?”

Caleb leaned back, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “What do you mean?”

You shot him a look. “You picked me up in the rain. I thought you were taking me home.”

His smirk returned. “I was. Then I figured we could use a detour.”

“A detour?” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “Caleb, it’s late. And I’m tired.”

His smirk didn’t waver, but something softened in his gaze. “I know. But it’s been a while since we did this.”

You hesitated. The café was familiar—your spot, our spot, once. You hadn’t been back since everything ended.

“You could’ve just taken me home,” you murmured.

“I could have,” he admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But you would’ve shut the door in my face the second we got there.”

Your jaw tightened. “…You don’t know that.”

He arched his brow. “I do.”

You wanted to argue. You really did. But the truth of it settled uncomfortably in your chest. He did know you. Even after everything. And worse, you knew he was probably right.

Caleb studied you for a beat before his expression softened further. “The coffee’s on me,” he added lightly. “You can even get any pastry you like.”

The rain had softened to a steady drizzle by the time Caleb shut off the engine.

You stared at the café through the windshield, its warm glow spilling onto the wet pavement.

This was a mistake.

You should’ve said no. Should’ve insisted he take you home, unbuckled your seatbelt, and walked away without looking back.

Yet, you sat there, gripping your sleeve, hesitating.

Caleb sighed, then suddenly leaned over, reaching past you.

You tensed. “What are you—”

The click of your door unlocking cut you off, and before you could react, Caleb was stepping out into the rain. Your brows furrowed. Was he just going to walk around and open the door for you?

But then he lifted his hand.

The air around you shifted, and a barely visible barrier shimmered to life above the car. The rain that had been pouring relentlessly now slid off an invisible shield, leaving you completely untouched.

You blinked before scoffing. “Must be nice having an Evol.”

Caleb smirked, opening your door. “Jealous?”

“A little,” you admitted, stepping out carefully, the space between you suddenly feeling too small. “Would’ve saved me from carrying an umbrella everywhere.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Or from getting caught in the rain in the first place.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t comment. The sidewalk was slick, puddles reflecting the glow of streetlights. The air smelled like damp pavement and coffee, the warmth of the café just a few steps away.

When you guys reached the entrance, Caleb lowered his hand, and the shield dissolved like it had never been there. He pulled open the door and gestured for you to step inside.

You hesitated for only a second before walking past him, the scent of coffee and nostalgia wrapping around you like a ghost.

“Guess not much has changed.”

Your throat tightened. “No.”

The barista, Lily, behind the counter, looked up, recognition flashing across her face. She hadn’t seen you in months—not since everything ended—but she still remembered.

“Hey,” she greeted with a small smile. “It’s been a while.”

Caleb smirked. “Yeah. Thought I’d bring her back.”

Something about the way he said it made your stomach twist, but you ignored it, turning your attention to the menu overhead, as if you didn’t already know what you wanted.

Caleb leaned in slightly. “Still take it the same way?”

You shot him a look. “Why do you care?”

His lips twitched. “Humor me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah.”

Caleb turned to the barista. “Two of those, and she’ll also take…” He looked at you expectantly.

You sighed. “A blueberry scone.”

He smirked. “She’ll take a blueberry scone.”

The barista rang up the order, and before you could reach for your wallet, Caleb was already sliding his card into the reader.

You narrowed your eyes. “I could’ve paid.”

“I know.” He grabbed the receipt. “But I said it was on me.”

You huffed but didn’t push further, taking the coffee when he handed it to you.

The café wasn’t crowded, just a few people scattered at tables, lost in their own conversations. It would’ve been so easy to pretend this was just another night, just another casual outing—

But it wasn’t.

Caleb nudged your arm, pulling you from your thoughts. “Come on.”

He led you to a table in the corner. Your table.

The moment you sat down, an uneasy weight settled in your chest. You traced the rim of your coffee cup, the steam curling between you. Across from you, Caleb leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lazily against the table.

“You’re quiet,” he noted.

You met his gaze. “I have nothing to say.”

His lips twitched. “That’s a first.”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your coffee, letting the warmth ground you. But it didn’t stop the thoughts circling your mind.

Why did he bring you here?

Why now?

Why does it still feel easy with him?

“You’re thinking too much.”

Your fingers stilled around your coffee cup. “And you’re still assuming you know what I’m thinking.”

He smirked. “I don’t assume. I know.”

You scoffed, leaning back against your chair. “Enlighten me, then.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you the way he always had—like he was peeling back layers, reading between every breath, every hesitation. “You’re trying to figure out why we’re here. Why I didn’t just take you home.”

Your grip on the cup tightened.

Caleb took a sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

You exhaled sharply, placing your cup down a little too firmly. “You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Sit there all smug like you still know me.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Do I not?”

You hesitated.

He was baiting you, as he always did. And the worst part? He was right. He did know you. Knew you well enough to bring you here, to order your drink exactly the way you liked it, to pick up on your hesitation before you even voiced it.

And yet, that only frustrated you more.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “You should’ve just taken me home.”

Caleb hummed, taking another sip of his coffee before setting it down. “I know.” He leaned back, eyes never leaving yours. “But I wanted to talk to you first.”

Your stomach twisted.

There it was.

The thing you had been waiting for—the reason you were here.

You swallowed. “About what?”

His gaze softened just slightly, the amusement in his eyes giving way to something quieter.

“You.” His voice was steady, deliberate. “Me.”

Your fingers curled around your cup. Careful.

Caleb didn’t look away. “Whatever this is—whatever it’s always been.”

Your breath hitched. You let out a quiet scoff, breaking eye contact. “There’s nothing anymore.”

He was silent for a moment, just watching you. Then, as if weighing his words, he exhaled. “Do you really believe that?”

You didn’t answer right away.

“I have to,” you finally said, voice quieter now.

His jaw ticked, but he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “Then why are you here?”

You stiffened. “You brought me here.”

He shook his head once. “You could’ve said no.”

Your gaze snapped to his. “You make it sound like I had a choice.”

His lips curved slightly, though there was no amusement behind them. “You always have a choice.”

The weight of his words settled between you, thick and suffocating. The café buzzed with quiet chatter around you, but none of it reached your ears.

Finally, you inhaled sharply. “What do you want from me, Caleb?”

His fingers tapped absently against his cup as if considering his answer. But when he finally spoke, it was quiet. Certain.

“I want you to come back.”

Your breath stalled.

A dry laugh escaped you. “Back? Back to what, exactly?”

He didn’t hesitate. “To me.”

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “You can’t just say that like it’s simple.”

“I never said it was simple,” he admitted. “But it’s the truth.”

You looked away, pulse hammering in your throat. “It’s too late.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “Is it?”

You hated the way he said it—like he already knew the answer. Like he could see right through every flimsy excuse you were trying to hold onto.

Your fingers tightened around your cup. “You don’t get to show up and expect everything to go back to the way it was.”

His voice was steady. “That’s not what I expect.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Then what do you expect?”

A pause.

“I expect you to be honest with yourself.”

You hated the way your stomach twisted at his words. The way something deep inside you lurched forward despite every wall you had built.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “This is a mistake.”

Caleb held your gaze. “Maybe. But it’s ours to make.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. You could feel it—the pull, the weight of something inevitable pressing down on you. Every logical part of you screamed to shut this down.

But it was already too late, wasn’t it?

Your grip on the cup loosened, your resolve crumbling piece by piece. Then, finally, exhaustedly, you sighed.

“…Fine.”

Caleb didn’t rush it.

He let the silence settle, let the weight of your surrender sink in. The moment you said “Fine,” he knew it was over—you had already lost, even if you didn’t realize it yet.

Leaning back in his chair, he took his time, watching you with that same knowing look, fingers drumming lazily against his coffee cup. You were trying so hard to act unaffected, eyes locked on the table, but your grip on the ceramic was tense.

You were waiting—for what, exactly? The regret? The anger? The second thoughts?

None of it came.

Caleb exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. You always made this harder than it needed to be.

Without another word, he pushed back his chair, the legs scraping softly against the floor. Your shoulders tensed as he stood, rounding the table with slow, deliberate steps.

Not stopping. Not hesitating.

He moved in, closing the space between you, his presence overwhelming as he braced one hand on the back of your chair, the other resting against the table. His body caged you in, shielding you from the rest of the café, from the world beyond this moment.

You sucked in a sharp breath.

Trapped.

His scent washed over you, pulling you under like a riptide. The heat of him, the sheer certainty in his movements, sent your pulse into chaos.

“Say it again,” he murmured, voice low, dangerous.

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“That you’re staying.”

You swallowed hard, every instinct screaming at you to push him away. To fight.

But you didn’t.

Your lips parted, barely forming his name. “Caleb—”

That was all he needed.

His fingers brushed along your jaw before tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His touch was slow and deliberate, but there was nothing soft about it. His grip was firm, possessive.

Like he was claiming you.

“You don’t regret this,” he murmured, the words barely a whisper, right before his lips crashed against yours.

It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t careful.

It was deep, demanding—a possession.

Caleb kissed you like he was proving something, like he was erasing every ounce of distance you had tried to put between you. His lips moved against yours with precision, drawing you in and breaking down every last barrier you had left.

Then his tongue slid past your lips, coaxing, teasing, taking.

The taste of coffee and something purely him flooded your senses, dizzying and intoxicating. He was relentless, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, drawing out a soft gasp that he swallowed like he owned it.

His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you feel it to remind you that there was no escaping this, no running from him or this pull.

And you—God, you kissed him back.

It was your undoing.

Your fingers curled into his hoodie, gripping it tight, like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. His other hand slid to the nape of your neck, holding you there, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

The café, the hushed conversations, the rest of the world—gone.

There was no fight left in you. No walls.

Only him. Only Caleb.

When he finally pulled back, lips barely brushing against yours, his breath was uneven, his voice thick with something raw, unspoken.

“Knew you wouldn’t leave.”

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parted, breath stolen.

And then he saw it.

That flicker in your expression—not defiance, not reluctance.

Surrender.

Your grip on his hoodie loosened slightly, but you didn’t push him away. Your lashes fluttered, your gaze flickering to his lips for just a second too long, and that was all the confirmation he needed.

Caleb’s smirk returned, slow and knowing. His thumb traced along your jaw, a silent I won.

Because he had.

Checkmate.

#꒰ა 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 .ᐟ #caleb x reader #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb smut #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace smut #yandere caleb #lads x reader #lnds x reader

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jayden-killer · 2 days ago

Text

Don't let me go. ‹𝟹

Eddie pushes away his need of affection. That is, until he meets you.

warnings: ig angst to fluff(?), reader is fem bc yes, al munson mention lmao.

Eddie needed affection.

Having someone cuddling him is what he has always wanted; however, never admitted, especially since his mother passed away. He doesn’t need a maternal figure, far from it. Growing up, this need is repressed over time, inculcating this idea that it is not necessary because he can live without it. Yet this desire resurfaces in front of couples who embrace, holding hands, sharing their personal space. After all, he doesn’t need it.

He’s a freak.

Who would ever want to be next to a freak? A person who will never succeed in life? Who may end up like his father?

He cannot cope with the discomfort in his heart, so he tries to repress it once again.

And again.

That was his belief until he met you. It wasn’t a chance meeting at all. One of his teachers had said that he needed a tutor. His school grades were not stable, not to mention the poor attention he paid to almost every class. He would never have expected his tutor to be the most beautiful, kind person in the world.

Date after date, you have opened to each other, sharing a comfortable silence.

Your relationship started after 4 months of seeing each other; everything was going well. One of those days, Eddie thought it would be nice to invite you into his trailer, stating that his uncle would come back late to catch up on some overdue hours.

So you found yourself in the heat, on his poorly groomed sofa, focused on the vision of the musical The Rocky Horror Picture Show. One of Eddie’s favourite movies.

"Love?"

"Mh?"

"Do you really...wanna hold my hand?"

His girlfriend’s eyes were confused. "Why would I be bothered by it, Teddy?"

Teddy. God, he loved her when he called him that.

Eddie met her eyes and thought for a moment to lie, but... did it make sense? Was it really worth lying? What if she knew about it? She knew that her beloved had a good intuition. He also knew that women did not miss anything and would not get away with it easily.

So, with a deep sigh, he played with his girlfriend’s fingers and confessed everything. His feeling of repulsion towards love, of inequality, how he had always tried to fool him and how he was not...worthy.

"Eddie..." The girl’s fingers squeezed more of hers. "I must admit, I suspected it."

Eddie raised his eyebrows. Good sense, indeed. "How?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "You weren’t very convinced when I hugged you in public on certain occasions or when I kissed you on the stairs of the school. You looked... tense. I knew something was wrong."

On Eddie passed a feeling of shame.

What a shithead, he began to think.

"And I understand how you feel. Sometimes it happens to me too, and it will definitely never be the same feeling as yours, but..." The girl caressed his cheek, gently swiping her thumb up and down, "you have to start believing it. Also, you don’t really believe all that crap going around about you? Unsubstantiated bullshit by ignorant people?" They both chuckled.

"Right," said Eddie, still smiling. "Maybe I just have to believe it a little bit more." He paused, this time stroking her cheek. " I have to work on it. It won’t happen immediately, but...with time"

"With time," she repeated. She silently got closer to him, as if she wanted to kiss him, but fearing that she might bother him. Eddie appreciated the gesture.

"You mustn’t think it bothers me. I love it. I love to feel your lips on mine." He gave her a quick kiss and took her cheeks in his hands.

Eddie memorized every detail of her wonderful face, with red cheeks and eyes that conveyed security and love. "Okay?"

She nodded, smiling. "Okay. I’ll be by your side the whole time. If you ever need to talk about it again, you know I’m here for that."

"I know, baby. I know. I don’t know how to thank you yet."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "10 dollars an hour for each psychological counseling."

Eddie threw his hands in the air. "This is a burglary without a gun! I’m already broke, then you go too!"

The two spent the evening laughing, enjoying the movie, and Eddie seemed to have a lighter weight on his shoulders. At least for now.

☆

taglist: @justalotoffanfiction

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn eddie munson #angst #eddie munson x reader angst #fluff #angst to fluff #stranger things headcanons #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n

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steveseddie · 12 hours ago

Text

winning shot

written for the @steddiebingo get lucky mini event | prompt: green | wc: 1,4k | rating: t | tags: basketball games, getting together, background lucas/max

read on ao3

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Eddie says, looking down at the jacket that Steve gave him when he showed up at the trailer.

“I’m not making you do anything,” Steve says with a snort. “You said you wanted to make up for how much of a dick you were to Sinclair before Spring Break.”

Eddie rolls his eyes even if he did say that. “Yeah, but I was thinking more like, letting him roll with advantage on our next campaign or something.”

“Supporting him during the first game of the season is better,” Steve says snobbishly.

And it might be. After all, the whole thing happened because of a basketball game.

But–

“Do I really have to wear this?” Eddie asks with a whiny tilt to his voice.

“Depends. Do you own anything green?” Steve throws back, his hands settling on his hips.

“No,” Eddie mumbles.

“Then yes.”

Throwing his head back, Eddie groans. “Steveeee, it’s your letterman jacket.”

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug. Doesn’t he get what Eddie is saying?

“It has your name on it.”

“I know.”

Eddie sighs, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Won’t it– it might make people think– you know–”

“What?”

“That you and I are– you know–” He sputters awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Steve says in a bitchy tone. “So?”

“So?” Eddie repeats, baffled. “Do I need to remind you that we live in a small town with small-minded people that already hate me?”

Steve’s face softens at that. “Nothing’s gonna happen, Eds. Jason Carver is gone and the charges have been dropped and everyone will be focused on the game anyway.”

“Fine, let’s say no one tries to burn me at the stake, they still might think we’re together.”

“I don’t care.”

Eddie shuts down the little flutter he feels in his chest. Just because Steve doesn’t mind, it doesn’t mean that it’s something he wants. “That won’t exactly help you score any dates, man.”

“So?” Steve repeats, making Eddie roll his eyes.

“You’re being impossible, Stevie.”

“No, you are,” he says, grabbing the jacket from Eddie’s hands and pressing it against his chest. “Put this on and stop whining.”

Eddie glares at him half-heartedly. “This is going to ruin my reputation worse than the murder charges,” he says but dutifully shrugs the jacket on, ignoring the way his heart skips a beat when he smells Steve’s laundry detergent.

When he looks up, Steve is watching him with a weird expression that makes Eddie fidget. “That bad?” He asks jokingly.

Steve shakes his head, swallows thickly and averts his eyes. And people call Eddie weird. “You’re so dramatic. Come on, we’ll be late.”

And with that, he starts walking to his car. Eddie sighs and follows him. Sinclair better fucking appreciate this.

They arrive just as the game is about to start. The bleachers are packed, but Steve makes a beeline for the two spots that Max saved for them.

Clearly she didn’t believe that Eddie would actually show up because her eyes widen a little when she spots them. Then they dart down and her lips tug up into a smirk.

“What are you wearing?” She asks when Eddie flops down next to her.

“Nothing,” he mumbles.

"Is that Steve’s letterman jacket?”

“No,” Eddie lies through gritted teeth.

She sniggers. “You’re so lame, man.”

Eddie splutters indignantly. “Shut up! You’re wearing Sinclair’s jacket!”

Her cheeks pink up a bit, but she still acts smug when she says, “Yeah, because he’s my boyfriend. What’s your excuse?”

Eddie growls, which only makes her smile turn even more smug.

The game starts shortly after. A few minutes in, Sinclair glances in their direction and Eddie sees him make a double take when he spots Eddie. He smiles and waves and Eddie begrudgingly waves back even if he can’t help but feel a surge of affection for the kid.

“Told you he’d be happy to see you,” Steve whispers to him.

Eddie knocks their shoulders together. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Are you gonna explain to me what’s happening, big boy? Or are you just gonna act smug?”

Steve’s eyes sparkle and then he’s explaining basketball to Eddie with the same patience and enthusiasm that he has explained his campaigns or his books or his music. Eddie is instantly endeared.

He catches Max’s eye while Steve is going on and on about something called a ‘shooting guard’.

“Lame,” she mouths, probably because of how whipped Eddie looks right now.

He manages to flip her off without Steve noticing.

Near the end of the game, the two teams are tied and it’s up to Sinclair to score the winning shot.

Or at least that’s what Eddie gets from Steve’s hurried explanation.

Everyone at the gym watches with baited breath as Lucas prepares to make the shot. Even Eddie. Though in his case it’s not because he’s invested in the game, but because Steve’s hand is currently wrapped around his wrist, his thumb absently rubbing circles over Eddie’s pulse. Holy shit.

A whistle blows and the shot is made, but Eddie keeps his eyes on their hands, tucked into the space between their legs. Lucas must score, winning the game, because suddenly everyone around them jumps up and starts cheering and clapping.

That includes Steve, who drags Eddie to his feet with the hand that’s still holding Eddie’s.

When Steve finally lets go so he can join the celebration, it takes a moment for Eddie to remember how to move and when he starts clapping too, he can still feel the phantom press of Steve’s thumb against his pulse.

They take Max and Lucas out for ice cream after the game.

The kid is on cloud nine, recounting the game as if they didn’t just see him play it. When they drop him off, Lucas thanks Steve for the ride and Eddie for showing up, even if he knows just how painful it must’ve been for him to step foot in the gym.

When it’s Max’s turn, she makes sure to call Eddie ‘lame’ one last time before heading inside.

There’s no need for Steve to move the car with how close Max’s house is to the Munson’s trailer, but he insists on backing up and parking on Eddie’s driveway anyway.

“So what did you think?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Eddie mumbles, and looks up to find Steve smirking. “Don’t expect me to go to every game now, I still think people throwing balls at laundry baskets is stupid.”

“But I could talk you into coming to a few games at least?”

Steve could probably talk him into attending church, Eddie thinks. “Maybe,” he says.

His smirk turns into a lopsided grin that makes Eddie feel a little hot under the collar.

The collar of the letterman jacket he’s still wearing. Right.

“Anyway thanks for the ride. And for letting me wear this,” he says as he starts to shrug it off, but Steve stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Keep it,” he says, biting his bottom lip. “For the next game.”

“You know,” Eddie says, cocking his head and giving Steve a calculating look. “I saw a lot of people not wearing green at the game. Thought that was like, mandatory or something.”

“Uh, no but if you really wanted to show your support to Lucas then–” He trails off with a shrug.

“Mhm, but you know what I did see?” Eddie says, slowly starting to lean over the console. “A lot of girls wearing their boyfriends’ letterman jackets.” He lets his lips stretch into a grin and watches as Steve’s eyes dart down to his mouth. “Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“Was that an excuse to get me to wear yours?”

Steve gulps guiltily. “Yeah. I don’t think I was ready for how it would make me feel, though.”

“How’s that?”

“Like this,” he says, grabbing the lapel of the jacket and pulling Eddie towards him, all but crashing their lips together.

Eddie makes a noise of surprise but wastes no time before cupping Steve’s cheek with his hand and kissing him back. He’s glad it’s late and the trailer park is quiet and empty so no one can see them making out.

They eventually pull away, both their lips red and slick with spit, and both stretched into a grin.

“I think I’m gonna have to wear this more often,” Eddie says, smoothing the jacket over his chest. “If that’s how it makes you feel.”

“I thought it was ruining your reputation,” Steve says with a snort.

Eddie laughs. “It is,” he says before fluttering his eyelashes at Steve. “But you’re worth it, sweetheart.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddiebingoluck #stranger things #stranger things fic #i managed to complete the challenge! yay!#eddie munson #steve harrington #monse writes

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softtdaisy · 1 day ago

Note

Congrats on 2k!!! You deserve it ❤

Could i request bed chem by sabrina with charles leclerc, please

summary. sometimes chemistry can't be explained. you and charles have it, specially in bed

words count. 1 824

song. bed chem by sabrina carpenter

what to expect. a very little smut, like blink it and you miss it but it's here

a/n. writing with sabrina's song is becoming my favorite thing at this point 🩷

PARTICIPATE IN MY 2K CELEBRATION

criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist| request

“Souris un peu, bon sang.”

Charles turned around, suddenly cut in his thought by Pierre complaining with his cheeky tone that right was now getting on the Monegasque mind. Smile, smile… He clearly didn’t want to be there, and for once in his life, he didn’t have the strength to pretend.

It wasn’t even Charles’ fault. Whose idea was it to have this big event after the Grand Prix? Of course some drivers would have been upset because it was impossible for the 20 of them to have a great race.

And of course it turned out Charles was the one to have the worse race of the season. He was on pole, doing the record of the track, all of it for what? To get in a pile-up at the beginning of the race and not be able to do one lap. One. Lap.

And now he had to be all dressed up and look like the usual perfect son-in-law in an event he didn’t even want to come to.

“It’s not because you’re used to having a bad weekend that I should act like you.” Charles mumbled, walking closer to the photographs. His remark didn’t offend Pierre but caused him a hysterical laugh. Making people turn around.

“Ok, buddy,” Pierre said, calming down his laughter slowly. He put an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “You need to get laid.”

This time, Charles had to admit he laughed sincerely at his answer. Hopefully the photographs got the image. “Does Kika know sex is your solution to everything?”

“How do you think we make this relationship work so well?”

Charles shook his head, trying to get this image out of his mind. At least he was lucky to have his friend to improve the evening because he was this close to not showing up at all. If it weren’t for Pierre picking him up right in his hotel room, he probably wouldn’t have.

“You’re next, guys!” The assistant said, and Charles thanked her with a smile—he didn’t forget his good manners in his suitcase.

While Pierre was chatting with someone around, Charles gave a look at the person having their picture taken right now.

And right in front of him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

If Charles knew he was attractive—at this point he couldn’t ignore the fact he was getting multiple proposals per day—he was the biggest flirt. Usually, he thanked women with a smile and went on with his life without thinking about it. Did he have a one-night stand? Some, during the season. He could get very lonely by himself in hotel rooms. But most of the team, he wasn’t the one looking on purpose for the woman he would get in his bed.

But you.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

How magnetic you looked with your perfect and seductive smile, how the photographs seemed not to get enough of you and asked for more—more poses, more smiles, more. How he seemed to not get enough of you. His eyes went down your whole body and looked to appreciate everything.

His silence—even if he was clearly not the chatting type tonight—called Pierre to mind. When he followed Charles' eyes, he understood why his friend was suddenly so calm and less upset. “That’s one of Kika’s friends.”

Charles only answered with some kind of groan, clearly not pleased that Pierre could read him so easily. “She’s a singer. She’s wonderful. And she’s single.” He sang the last word.

“Good for her.” Charles replied, rolling his eyes.

Soon, you left to go to the party, and it was the boys turn to get their pictures. And Charles had a little less of a hard time looking happy, mostly because the image of you in that great and hot look stayed printed in his mind.

He would be lying saying he didn’t look for you for most of the party. It was difficult to follow the discussion when he could only think about finding the woman who made him lose his mind so easily. Little did he know that you were looking for him too.

But it wasn’t until the end of the night that you two finally met. You were the one who walked to the two F1 drivers who were waiting outside for the car. “So here hides the most interesting man of the night,” you said, putting a hand on Charles’ shoulder.

“Oh, you’re flattering me.” Pierre replied, putting a hand on his heart. You exchanged a playful look, both knowing what was happening.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” you said, winking, before turning to face Charles. “I thought I was never going to meet the golden boy everyone’s talking about.”

You’ve heard about Charles Leclerc. Oh, how you’ve heard about him. It was impossible not to know about him. You’ve even been a little jealous that many of your friends had met him through the years but you’ve never. So many missed occasions that you were definitely not going to miss that one.

Charles followed your eyes as they went down his face slowly, appreciating his perfect features. And stopping on his lips, you kept thinking about during the party. “I hope they didn’t give you high hopes concerning me.” He moved his face closer to yours to speak in a low voice.

You bit your lips before moving your eyes up to his. “It’s up to you to prove they were right or wrong about you.”

“You won’t be mad if I take this car and you take the next one, right? Right.” Pierre spoke almost to himself when the driver showed up. But none of you answered; Charles barely moved his hand to agree. He couldn’t care less about what his friend wanted to do right now. All he cared about was you.

And oh, how he cared about you that night.

From the moment you got in the car, the chemistry caused sparks to fly.

You were quick on his lap, his hands in your lower back to keep you against him when your mouths were discovering each other. You bit his lip when his fingers sank into your skin. You pulled his hair when his mouth started to travel down your neck.

You almost didn’t leave the car. But thank god you did, because the night in the hotel room was even better.

It was like your bodies were made for each other.

The way his hand perfectly found the way to your inner thighs, how it cupped your pussy like it had been created for his hand. How his finger on your clit had the perfect width, how he found the perfect rhythm to make you lose it in a matter of seconds.

How he already knew your body so well already. Enough to know how to edge you and make you even more eager for him.

And when he finally got into you, you wondered if it was you manifesting that he was oversized. Or if Charles really was that perfect of a man even in his pants.

All you knew was that it fit you perfectly, giving you the pleasure you’ve never experienced before. Not only with him into you, but with his lips that never left your skin or his fingers that alternated the pleasure between your tits and your clit.

“You,” you whispered, your head on his chest after having sex yet another time. His hand was caressing your naked back, coming close to your bottom by slightly brushing it. “You were made for me.”

Charles laughed with a raspy voice. You couldn’t decide whether this was hotter than the way he moaned your name when you went down on him an hour ago. Both being as hot was a good answer.

“One night was enough to know that?” he asked, looking down at you. You knew exactly what he meant by that, what offer he was implying in his words.

So you looked up and saw his lazy and seductive smile. “I’m not against other occasions to confirm it.”

And so you did it again the next morning, in the shower, before he left to take his plane for the following race.

And you saw each other as much as you could with both your planning. But each intimate moment was even better than the one before. So good that it almost became an addiction for each other.

You came to another race later that season.

Funny enough, Charles had invited you, but you also got invited by some brand. “You can’t escape me, number 16,” you said when Charles opened the hotel room to you in a little red dress that was going to haunt his dream.

And the whole weekend had just been a big game of teasing Charles and the world about your relationship with him.

When they asked you why you were here, you said that you loved the sport but that you also got the sweetest invitation to come and support your favorite driver. “You know which one.” You winked when they asked.

When they said you were Charles' lucky charm when he got the pole, you told them he didn’t need you to perform and that he was amazing on his own. “But I would gladly reward him for his performance.”

Which you did, indeed, right when you closed the door of the hotel room.

But more than that, Charles’ attitude was almost speaking louder than all your funny and flirty comments. He looked happy and relieved knowing you were around. You were making his life so much simpler by just being you, by his side. And giving him amazing sex too—he couldn’t deny how nice it was to relax by your hands and mouth.

“What?” Charles sighed with a little smile.

The Ferrari driver had won the race with so much ease that it was a demonstration of his talent. He had a lot of interviews to do, sure. And he couldn’t wait to go back to you again.

Pierre was staring at him with a cheeky expression, his arms crossed against his chest. “This is the moment I’m supposed to thank you for setting us up?” Charles asked with a laugh.

Pierre’s expression changed. “I didn’t do anything, buddy.”

They both turned to look at you, surrounded by fans asking for your autographs. At an event, you weren’t even the main character. But the whole world loved you so much, it wasn’t a surprise anymore.

You felt their eyes on you, and the smile you offered Charles made him blush. There was something so genuine about you, so sincere, that he always felt so loved whenever you gave him some attention. Which became more and more frequent.

And the wink you gave him let him know you were far from being done with him.

Fortunately, he had no plan of letting you go anytime soon.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc story #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 story #f1 angst #my writing #2k celebration

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day ago

Text

A Man Called Danger 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You avoid drama, you avoid confrontation, and overall, you avoid men. But some men can’t be denied. ~ short!late 30s reader

Characters: biker!Bucky Barnes

Note: I didn't think I'd be writing rn but I had a pretty restless night despite my best efforts. Mostly just me fixating on noises and not being able to sleep.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You idle outside the corporate facade, fidgeting, looking side to side, mirror to mirror, listening for the thunderous engine. Your grip and ungrip the wheel, unable to slacken your jaw as you huff through your nose. Your heart hammers on your tender ribs and your foot wiggles incessantly.

You replay the calamitous scene over and over in your head. Your mind sticks to the last vision; that grin. That's a promise. A man like that only smiles with good reason and you don't expect he gets his jollies from fuzzy kittens and butterflies.

A tap on the window makes you jump. You look over as Eva waves through the glass. You check the clock. You've been there for half an hour.

You unlock the door and she falls in with a sigh. "Hey, hey," she chimes. “What happened to your car?”

“Huh, oh--” you sniff and look in the rear view again. Your little act of panicked defiance must have earned a few extra scratches. “Wasn’t paying attention backing out. Just hit a fence.”

She cackles, “really? Well, not that it makes a difference with this old shitheap.”

You give her a long look. “You're in a good mood. How was your first day?"

"Pretty damn great," she snaps her seat belt into place. "Pretty chill job. I just kinda mess with the printer between endless lattes."

You nod, "sounds like heaven."

"Boss is super cool. He's really chatty," she preens.

Right, you're sure that has nothing to do with her looks. You want to caution her but you also don't want to spoil this for her. You're sure it's nothing. Not that you could offer her much advice. You were never the type to draw any sort of office scandal.

"Just make sure you do your work," you pull away from the curb, shifting in your seat.

You teethe your lip and let it flick out. You keep up the nervous tick as you hunch behind the wheel. You focus on the road, trying not to think of everything else; that man and his motorcycle, the length of Eva's skirt, Mr. Walker's reminders.

"I take it your day wasn't great," she scoffs.

You squeeze the wheel, "huh?"

"You gonna tear that thing off?" She asks.

You exhale and push your shoulders down before they can touch your ears. You swallow, "usual, you know..."

What do you do? You're not stupid, that man isn't going to play around. He's not going to be anything less than blunt. He had the gall to show up at your work. How he knew where to find you... well, you can't be certain he isn't waiting at your front door.

You stop at the red sign and check the rear view, ears perked for any rumble. You tut and hiss out another breath.

"Right, well, I know you're not really a fan but you need a glass of wine," she says.

You shrug, "probably."

She hums, "seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, nothing," you lie. "Just... you wanna get dinner somewhere?"

"Uh, what? Am I hearing you right? You want to eat out?" She chuckles, "alright, something's gotta be wrong."

"No, I'm... you got through your first day, it'll be a celebration," the lie rolls out all too easy. You've never been challenged at that, but you found it easier to be quiet than deceitful. Lies are shields, not weapons. "Your choice."

The car behind you honks. You turn just to get out of their way.

"Oh, you like ramen? There's a place that does spicy noodles just right," she makes a ridiculous gesture with her hand, kissing her fingertips.

"I can try it," you trawl down the street slowly, "is it down town?"

"Yeah, back a few streets," she wiggles and claps her hands, "oh, I'm so excited."

"Really?" You wonder.

"Well, yeah! When's the last time we did anything fun? Together?"

"Ha, yeah," you agree hollowly.

She sits up, and you can see her smile in the mirror. You sense her brightness dim just a little. "Um, last night..."

"Eva, we agreed to move past it," you scratch your cheek, keeping your other hand firmly on the wheel. You don't want to think about last night or that man. You're hoping the restaurant will be an escape from that. If he has found his way to your house, he might not want to wait around that long. "Let's start over. This job will help with that."

"Sure," she agrees softly. "It's just... I do feel bad. That he pushed you like that."

"Well, it's not the worst I've dealt with," you say without thinking.

She wallows, "it's not?"

She didn't know your dad. You're happy for that. You shrug.

"It's nothing," you assure her. "Really."

"Mom mentioned... you know, that he wasn't very nice--"

"I can barely remember," you assure her as your skull itches. You remember the bad times; the blunt force, the stinging slaps, the screaming. Even after all those years. "So let's just not think about yesterday, let's enjoy tonight."

She nods, "yeah, sure... I... I can do that."

"Oh, you've always been much better at having fun than me," you snort.

💀

The restaurant is nice enough but not too fancy to make you feel a slob. Eva fits anywhere she goes. She’s just that pretty.

You wonder if it’s just your own insecurity speaking. You’ve aged out of the years where clothes and makeup were your sole concern. You never really worried too much about the latter, you did just enough to be presentable.

You look at the menu, mulling chicken or shrimp. Eva takes the smaller menu from the middle of the table.

“They’ve got saki. You should try some. I’ll drive home,” she offers.

You look at her. She grins and giggles. You tilt your head.

“I love that look,” she chimes. “You do it really good. It’s scary.”

“What look?”

“Oh, you know, mom called it the murder stare. As much as a mess as she is, you know, she used to say you were like grandma.”

“Grandma?” You click your tongue and sigh. That old bitter hen. “Well, be glad that you can’t confirm that.”

“Was she really that bad?” Eva asks.

You shrug, “I was young for most of our... relationship. To a little girl, she was a villain.”

Your sister nod and puts the menu down. She looks around. “I really appreciate this. And I did my best not to be too much today. You know? And Mr. Hansen...” she taps her nails on the table. “He’s so cool. I think it’ll be good. And if I stick around, maybe you could switch over. Since your job is so shitty.”

“It’s not shitty. It’s just... a job,” you sit back as you close the menu and settle on chicken. “Won’t be much different either way. I don’t want you to stick around too long. This is to get you into school, right?”

“Yeah. I know but... I can work and go to classes.”

You smile, “I’m glad you’re thinking this out.”

“Well, I’m still going to have fun. You know, Lindsay wants to get some sushi this weekend so...”

“Ah, well, don’t spend all your money in one place,” you warn.

“Yes, ma’am,” she snipes back. You meet her eye as she stares. “How did you ever grow up with mom?”

You make a face, “I don’t know how i made it through either.”

“Um, excuse me,” the server steps up to the table, setting down two glasses. “Ginger mojitos for the table.”

You set the menu down and look at him, “oh, I think you’ve got the wrong one. But we’re ready to order.”

“Ma’am, they’re from the gentleman.” He nods over his shoulder. You can’t see past him as Eva leans back to glance across.

“Oh,” you swallow and look at your sister. Is this why she goes out? All the freebies from lecherous strangers? “Right. Well, I’ll have the spicy noodles with chicken dumplings, please.”

Eva waves past the server. You shift awkwardly. It’s so embarrassing. You’re just the old hanger-on.

“Shrimp, street-style for me, please and thanks,” Eva says.

“Water too, if you don’t mind,” you add. You don’t know you’ll finish the cocktail.

“Wow, that’s so sweet,” Eva sits back as she takes the tall glass and sips from the narrow straw. She hums. “Oh, it’s like... ginger ale-y.”

She smiles and raises the glass in a gesture across the restaurant. You keep your head down.

“You should try it,” she chirps.

“Well, one of us needs to drive.”

“Oh, one drink with dinner is under the limit.” She goads. “Huh, he looks familiar.”

“You know more people than me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know where I’ve seen him,” she mutters and slurps again.

The server returns with the water. You feel a pulse in your ears. Whoever it is, is staring. Likely not at you but your sister. Still, you’re ready to wilt.

Mindlessly, your hand slips down to your blouse and you feel along your ribs. She exhales.

“Does it hurt still?”

You shrug and drop your hand.

“Johnny’s such a dick.”

“I agree,” you say tritely. “Tell me you’re not going to talk to him again.”

“Not after that,” she pouts.

You’re quiet. She traces her fingertips on the table top and she shifts. She looks around and leans forward.

“So... are you ever going to start dating?” She asks.

You blink and your lips part. She smirks.

“The murder look, again,” she taunts.

You sigh and lift your brows, trying to whittle away the tension in your jaw. “It’s not really a priority.”

“Well, why not? I’m out of school, I’m grown. And you’re not that old.”

“Wow, thanks, not that old,” you muse wryly.

“And cute men are buying you drinks,” she trills.

“I don’t think he sent them because of me,” you argue.

“Well, he isn’t looking at me,” she retorts.

“Eva,” you drawl flatly.

“I think it’d be cute. I mean, I’ve never seen you with anyone. Mom never mentioned, or you...”

“Yeah, well, men are more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Oof, I really want to know who hurt you,” she teases.

You resist another terse sneer. Aside from your father and the train of your mother’s bad decisions, no one worth thinking about. This dinner isn’t going to be spoiled by bad memories.

“I’m not a people person,” you intone.

“Oh, he’s really staring at you. We should send a drink back.”

“No,” you say sharply.

“He looks your age. And he’s not bad on the eye. Not exactly who I’d peg as your type. A bit too rough around the edges but oh, it’s cute.”

“Eva,” you warm. You take the glass of water and dare a peek across. You nearly choke on your gulp of water. Shit.

You quickly turn back to the table and put the water down. You press the napkin to your lips. The man in leather. His jacket is folded across the seat next to him, the gold medallion shining against his black shirt, his eyes gleaming. How...

“You okay?” Eva asks.

“Yes, I just... I forgot to file something at work.”

“Right,” she squints. “You’re so jumpy tonight.”

“I didn’t sleep well,” you say. It’s not a lie.

You repress a shudder and tamp down the panic in your chest. He’s there, watching you. Those drinks were his signal. He’s not going away. He won’t forget what you did. If anything, you sealed your own fate.

Why couldn’t you keep your head down like always? Why couldn’t you just be the rock they get bored of when you don’t react? Why did you do that to a man like him?

You don’t know a thing about him but you can see clear enough he isn’t a man to walk away. You can only hope he’s only in need of your insurance information. You’ll take the added fees if it gets him out of your hair.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #a man called danger #biker au #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #marvel #mcu #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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wildernessuntothemselves · 23 hours ago

Text

Sugar Rush

warnings: royal au, princess!reader, concubine/consort beomgyu, yandere beomgyu, cunnilingus, fingering, doggy, breeding, dubcon/noncon, murder, unedited, switch!beomgyu, switch!reader summary:

“That’s enough. You’ve proven your worth for now.” You pant, stroking his long hair as he looks up at you, his messy lips kissing the palm of your other hand and his big, pretty eyes staring up at you with absolute adoration and need for approval. “Did you like that?”

“Yes, you’ve done a good job.” You sigh, hating how you’re always so weak for him, but it’s not enough for Beomgyu. You’ve hurt his pride too much, dared to threaten him with exile, and now it was your turn to atone. “Tell me you can’t replace me with anyone else. Tell me no one can fuck you the way I do.”

“Beomgyu…” You frown down at him but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he stands up, pulling you towards him and towering over you, and in that moment you realise that despite your power and despite how small Beomgyu can make himself appear in order to make you let your guard down, he is still a man and when it come down to it, if left alone with him, away from all your servants and guards, he could easily overpower you.

“Say it.” He insists, his gaze dark, and you gulp. “No one can replace you. You’re the only one who can fuck me the way I need.”

He is as pretty as a flower on that stage, as pretty as any woman, and he dances just as enticingly, full of elegant flourishes and heated looks thrown at everyone in attendance.

There are a slew of people bearing witness to this dance number put on by the palace concubines and escorts, and chief among them is your husband who was sitting right beside you.

It pisses you off. You know he is there to put on a show, but he is yours and you do not appreciate the looks of lust that other women and men were throwing his way. He better not be entertaining them behind your back.

You scoff when his eyes meet yours and you see his pleased smirk. He is doing this on purpose just to piss you off and it’s working. His own jealousy betrays him however–you see the confident looks on his face falter for a moment when your husband leans forward to whisper something in your ear. You can barely even hear him but what you can hear loud and clear is Beomgyu’s unspoken jealousy as you turn and pretend to give your husband your full attention.

Two can play at this game. You spend the rest of the performance with your fingers laced in-between your husband’s fingers and your head lent ever so slightly against his shoulder, a sight that clearly enrages Beomgyu and has him rushing towards your bedroom right after the performance to release his emotions on you.

He smothers you with kisses, demanding your full attention that you oh so callously deprived him of, but he should know better than this. He cannot have it. Not right now, which is perhaps exactly why he wants it so badly.

You curl his hair around your fingers and yank his head back to remove his lips from yours. “What are you doing?” You growl at him, having had it with his spoiled behavior. “You know you cannot be here. I entertain my husband tonight.”

“Forget about him. I bet he can’t fuck you as good as I can.” He has the audacity to say as he tries to kiss you again, but you hold him at bay, your fingers tugging on his hair painfully, yet he barely notices it, still trying to push through and capture your lips with his own.

“So this is what your little slutty performance out there was about?” You scoff, “You were trying to piss me off so I’d forget about him and fuck you instead?”

He can’t keep the pleased grin off his face as he pulls you closer by the waist, making sure you could feel the hardness in his trousers. “Perhaps. Did it work?”

Before you could respond to him, your husband enters your chambers, his gaze cold and condescending towards Beomgyu. “Leave us, consort.”

Beomgyu dares to scowl at him. “No.”

You’re so shocked by his response that you don’t stop him when he bends forward to kiss your neck. You and your husband stare at each other in shock.

“What?” Your husband sputters in disbelief and you push Beomgyu back.

“Can’t you see we’re busy?” Beomgyu tells him irritably and your husband’s face turns red. He charges at Beomgyu and punches him in the face, felling him to the ground.

“You little shit.” He kicks at him, enraged. “I ought to chop your head off.”

“No!” You scream, rushing to hold your husband back.

“See, this is exactly why he thinks he can behave like this, because you let him get away with everything.” Your husband spits out at you and you cower in shame. It’s true. It’s your leniency with Bewomgyu that gives him the courage to act so insubordinate to his master, and you must stop this. Beomgyu may be too stupid to act with self-preservation, and so you must protect him yourself, even if it hurts his pride.

“She wouldn’t let me get away with it if you knew how to actually fuck her right.” Beomgyu grins up at him, his lips bloody. He looks at you as if expecting you to back him up but you reach back and slap his face, staring him down coldly as he looks at you with betrayal. “Know your place, consort. Apologise to your master before I banish you off the palace grounds.”

“You wouldn’t–”

“Apologise!” You shriek, and he winces, the corners of his mouth downturned in displeasure but he obeys. “I am sorry, master.”

“On your hands and knees.” You push him down, knowing that this is the only way to save his skin even if he is too dumb and prideful to realise it. “Again.”

“I am sorry, master.” He grits out and your husband scoffs, not entirely believing him but his pride assuaged nonetheless by the pitiful sight of Beomgyu kneeling before his feet.

“Whatever. Get the hell out of my sight so I can fuck my wife.”

Beomgyu’s hands curl into fists, and you worry he will say or do something stupid again, but instead he jerks up and storms out the door, not before throwing you one last look of betrayal.

“If you can’t control your whore soon, he will have hell to pay.” Your husband tells you and you chew nervously on your lower lip. You have to find a way to get it through his thick skull that he cannot hope to stand up to your husband. If he keeps crossing him this way, he could lose more than just his place in the palace.

_______________________

In order to attempt to punish him, you do not call for him to entertain you for many weeks, ignoring his own attempts to gain your attention or offer himself up to you. You know it drives him crazy but that is exactly why you’re doing it. He needs to learn that his actions have consequences.

But it seems that the stupid consort has taken your punishment as an excuse to act out even more, and he makes sure to get you to walk in on him messing around with one of your husband’s concubines.

She is a pretty girl, and you don’t fail to notice her remarkable similarity to you. He has her cornered against a wall, kissing her like a wild animal devouring his prey.

“What is the meaning of this?” You ask, voice severe, and Beomgyu takes a second too long to separate from his companion, the smirk on his face contrasting sharply with the scared look on the girl’s face, and you can tell even before she opens her mouth that he has coerced her into this.

“Just having some fun.” He says cockily before the girl yelps out. “I am so sorry, mistress. I didn’t mean to! He–”

“You will both be removed from the palace.” You tell them and the girl wails. “No mistress please, he made me do it. He wouldn’t let go. Please, mistress. I swear, I didn’t want to kiss him.”

You study her face, noting the tears pouring down from her pretty eyes and the absolute devastation of her expression at the prospect of losing her place at the palace and therefore losing the only livelihood she has to support herself and likely her family behind her. All because Beomgyu was acting out again.

“Get out of my sight.” You tell her. “Before I change my mind.”

She rushes out, leaving you and Beomgyu alone. He still is wearing that stupid smirk, not realizing how serious you are or how angry you are at him. He tries to move forward to take you into his arms but you push him away.

“Don’t you dare touch me. I’ve had just about enough of your shit. You better get your things and get the hell out of this palace before I let my husband do what he will with you.”

Beomgyu’s face falls. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do you really want to test that?” You growl at him, “My husband is right. I have spoiled you too much and now you’re all rotten.”

“Spoiled me? You call letting your husband degrade me and beat me up spoiling me? You call ignoring me for weeks until I am left with no way to get your attention other than to kiss one of his concubines, spoiling me?”

“He wouldn’t have done any of that if you knew your place and you wouldn’t have been punished if you didn’t act out.”

“I was just trying to get your attention. I am here to please you and I wanted to do my job.”

“No, you wanted more than you had any right to. You wanted your share of me and his, and you got upset when he reminded you who I really belonged to. Not the whore.” You spit out at him, “You’re here to please me when I want to, not when you want to, and I am tired of having to clean up after your mess. I am done. You may pack up your things and leave.”

“I can’t leave. Who will actually please you when I am gone? Not your husband, that’s for sure.”

“There is no shortage of beautiful men looking to climb up the social ladder. I am sure your friend Taehyun wouldn’t mind taking your place. He is handsome. Looks strong too.”

Beomgyu scowls. “You wouldn’t…”

“Want to watch.” You move towards the door, but Beomgyu throws himself in front of you, falling to his knees. “No, please, you can’t do this to me!”

“Can’t I?” You raise an eyebrow at him and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’ll know my place. I won’t act out anymore.” He kisses your hands, your abdomen, your feet… he pulls your dress up and kisses up your legs, crying out his apologies into your skin.

“Beomgyu, you’re acting out again.” You protest, though you don't stop him. You won't admit it out loud but you have missed the feel of his lips on your skin. He may be cocky but he is right, no one can fuck you like he can.

“Just please let me make it up to you in the only way I can. I am just your whore after all.” He says meekly, before he licks a long stripe between your legs, making you gasp and pull at his hair.

“Fuck, fine. You better make it worth my while.” You growl at him and he dutifully plays his role, eating you out like his existence depended on it, because it did.

You never had a man who made you feel as good as Beomgyu did. Your husband, like all men of power and influence, would die before he would get on his knees and worship you in the way you needed to be worshipped. He thinks himself too good, too proud, to give you this kind of pleasure. Only a woman like you would be expected to demean herself in such a way to please her man.

Only a woman, or a man whose sole purpose is to please, a man like Beomgyu, would deign to do such a thing.

But you have had many men before Beomgyu–it may have been less common for noble women to have consorts and concubines the way men do but it wasn't nonexistent. Your husband understood that you had your needs to, and as long as he had the ultimate claim over you and that only he could breed you, then you were allowed to entertain yourself with another man when he did not feel so inclined to fulfill his husbandly duties.

None of the men you bedded before Beomgyu had ever made you feel the way that he does, and he knows it too. That is where he gets the courage to act out the way he does. He knows how much you treasure him, and you do. But you were not all powerful, and if your husband makes up his mind that Beomgyu must be banished from the palace or worse, you will not be able to oppose him, and that is what Beomgyu needs to understand.

He seems to be finally starting to get it, if the incessant stream of apologies he moans against your cunt is any indication.

“I am so sorry. So–so–sorry.” He whines, landing wet, sloppy kisses against your pussy as his fingers breach your entrance, pumping in and out of you earnestly, intent on pleasing you and proving his worth to you.

“Shut up.” You snarl at him, pressing your weight down on his face so you can fuck his mouth, neither of you caring that you’re smothering him. He likes it when you do that–likes to be fully surrounded by you, the taste of you heavy on his tongue, the smell of you permeating into his mind, and the sound of your ragged moans music to his ears.

It doesn’t take long for him to bring you to orgasm after orgasm. His jaw must be sore, his neck aching, his lungs starved for air, but he does not care–his sole purpose is to please you and have you tell him that he’s doing a good job… which you do, after he rips multiple orgasms from your tense body, you finally push him away from you, begrudgingly giving him your praises so you could convince him to let go.

“Say it.” He insists, his gaze dark, and you gulp. “No one can replace you. You’re the only one who can fuck me the way I need.”

His shoulders relax and you let some of the tension in your own body dissipate but it all comes back in a rush when he lifts you up and throws you onto the bed, turning you on your front and pressing you down with his weight.

“Beomgyu!” You shriek, feeling him push your skirt up and press his cock against your entrance.

“Shhh, I've given you what you wanted, mistress. Now let me take what I want.” He says, pushing inside you easily with how wet he had gotten you earlier, and you hate yourself for how good it feels to have his cock fill you up so completely. “You really hurt me and now you have to make it up to me.”

“You’re being bad again, Beomgyu.” You remind him, but he doesn’t care, fucking you so cruelly, you can hardly catch your breath, his cock pumping in and out of your pussy at a punishing rate, reaching so deep inside you it feels like you would never be able to separate.

“You wanted to get rid of me. You let him hurt me. You left me all alone.” He recounts your sins to you, reminding you exactly why he’s punishing you. “You’re so cruel, mistress, but I still love you so much. I’m so pathetic, aren’t I?” He asks as if you weren’t the one with your ass up in the air being fucked like a bitch in heat.

Still you have your own pride, and if you can’t physically overpower him, then you’d use your words to beat him down. “You are pathetic, Beomgyu.”

“And you're a heartless bitch.” He growls, smacking your ass and pushing your face into the sheets to shut you up. “If you can’t be nice then shut the fuck up.”

You can’t believe you’re letting him do this. He has grown far too bold and reckless. You’ve completely lost control of him, you’re not sure you can ever regain it. You should stand back and let your husband deal with him before he too loses control, but you’re too selfish to do that. You enjoy your alluring consort too much to let him go, and that will probably be your downfall.

“Fuck, you feel so good. This tight, royal pussy was made just for my cock, huh? No one can satisfy your greedy pussy other than this whore’s fat cock, right?” He degrades himself in order to embarass you, reminding you that when you put him down you’re only insulting yourself. He knows he’s your whore, but what does it say about you that no one can satisfy you but him? “You fucking love this. Your pussy is squeezing down on my cock like crazy. Been waiting for this for weeks. Gonna drain my balls into mistress’s needy pussy.”

“No!” You shout at him, voice muffled by the sheets. “Pull out.”

He knows he can’t cum inside you. That is the one rule he must abide by. Only your husband can cum inside you. No other man is allowed to risk impregnating you.

But since when has Beomgyu cared about the rules? Instead of pulling back and jerking his cock off over you like he usually does, he just doubles down, pushing you further into the bed so you can’t shake him off, his cock driving into your pussy with abandon. “Come on, you know you want it. I can feel your pussy trying to milk me dry. I’ll give it to you good, mistress. I’ll make sure to stuff you full of my cock so you never think about threatening to leave me again.”

“Beomgyu… no, you can’t–” Your words fall on deaf ears, drowned out by his loud moans and cries as he does exactly what he wants, snaking one of his hands between your legs to skillfully rub your pussy until you cum, clamping down on his cock and helping him empty himself so deep inside you, you can almost taste it on your tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s it. That’s a good mistress. Don’t let a single drop out.” He grunts into your ear, his hips still lazily thrusting against you, pushing his cum deeper and deeper into your bruised, overstimulated pussy.

“Enough. I can’t take anymore.” You choke out, tears welling up in your eyes from the exhaustion and overstimulation.

“Shhh, it’s okay, mistress. I’ll take good care of you. I promise.” He finally stills his hips but doesn’t pull out. Instead he brushes your hair out of your face and softly kisses your tears away. “You just have to be good for me, okay?”

You nod, completely and utterly beaten down by him once again. You were stupid to ever think that ever had the upper hand in this relationship.

__________________________

Your husband was right. You have spoiled Beomgyu too much. You let him get away with too much. Perhaps that is why he felt emboldened enough to act out, to be defiant, to ignore your orders, to think he has the right to be jealous of your husband, to think it is his place to to disrespect him, to have the courage to go head to head with him, to hate and despise him enough to get rid of him…

You couldn’t prove it but you knew your husband’s sudden illness and death were not of natural causes. Though it looked like it, you knew there was nothing natural about it.

And you become certain of it when on the the night of your husband’s funeral, after burying him in the ground and retiring to your chambers, now alone, you find Beomgyu waiting for you, a large grin on his face as he pulls you towards him and says, “Now, I don’t have to share you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you barely have enough air to speak. “What?”

He smiles wider at your stricken expression and he goes to your wardrobe and pulls out an unfamiliar dress. It wasn’t one of your own, but it was clearly tailored for you, and you recognize the characteristic pattern and revealing cut of the concubine attire.

“I want you to put this one.” He hands it to you, smiling darkly. “I want you to dance for me.”

___________________

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #royal au #yandere au #tw dubcon #tw noncon #this was inspired by beomgyu's solo dance at the concert lol

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drtyelvisfantasy · 2 days ago

Text

SAVE YOUR LOVE

LINEMAN!RAFE X STRIPPER!READER AU

note: Thank you to all who sent in questions about my au. I really appreciated it🩷 if any of you have any more questions, feel free to send them in 😊 I promise to write some more happy stuff for this au soon lol

summary: You and Rafe finally have a baby together, but things don't go as planned

warnings: childbirth, pregnancy, toxic relationship, yelling, feelings of abandonment, swearing,

The physical changes of the pregnancy took a toll on me, leaving me feeling exhausted and drained every minute of the day. I eventually had to stop working at the strip club when my bump became more noticeable. Rafe promised he would help me find a new job. He said he knew some people down here in Vegas, and he managed to secure me a position at a construction company, creating schedules for the workers. Although the work was boring and the pay was much lower than what I was used to as a stripper, it provided enough income to support myself and the baby. The hours were manageable, and I found some sense of stability in this new job.

Instead of meeting at the hotel like in the past, Rafe started coming by my apartment. His visits were less secretive, yet a sense of unease and tension still hung in the air.

“Are you staying the night?” I asked, my voice laced with a mix of hope and hesitation.

Rafe walked over where I was sitting on the couch, his expression unreadable as he considered my request. “Yeah, I’ll stay for the night.”

“Do you think you’ll be here for the birth?” I pressed, trying to remain calm. “I think it would be good for both of us if you came to the hospital with me.”

Rafe didn’t seem happy, his voice flat. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I can’t make any promises. Things are complicated right now.”

I felt a pang of disappointment. I thought this pregnancy would make things better between us, would force him to become more invested, but clearly, I was wrong. He seemed so uninterested, almost detached from the whole thing.

“I mean, would you at least try to make an effort to be there?” I asked, desperately seeking something from him.

Rafe sighed, avoiding eye contact. His voice remained neutral, but I could hear the reluctance in his words. “I just told you, I don’t know. I’ve got a lot going on. But... I’ll try my best to be there, if I can.”

Even though Rafe didn’t know if he’d be around for the birth of our baby, at least he did his part when it came to the nursery, leaving the decorating to me. He made it clear that it was “a woman’s job.” He might’ve pitched in with some of the more physical tasks, like putting together the crib, or perhaps offering some financial contributions, but the creative aspect of the nursery was entirely mine to handle.

A few months back, when the doctor revealed that the baby’s gender was going to be a girl, I was excited. I had always told Rafe that if we were to ever have a baby, I wanted the firstborn to be a girl, and now that dream had come true. However, Rafe didn’t seem nearly as excited. His tone remained indifferent as he stated that he didn’t care about the gender as long as the baby was healthy.

The months of pregnancy were emotionally draining. Rafe’s unpredictability and inconsistency only added to the stress. Sometimes he’d show up, but his presence felt more distant than comforting. Most of the time, I faced doctor’s appointments and navigated the challenges of pregnancy alone.

“I have one last doctor’s appointment before my due date,” I told him.

Rafe nodded, his expression remaining unbothered. “Oh yeah, right. That’s next week, right?”

“Yeah… will you come?” I asked, hoping for some show of support.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, then gave an indifferent shrug. “Sure, I’ll come.”

“I was thinking we could do a bit of shopping before the baby gets here, you know? We can buy her some cute little dresses.”

Rafe’s expression started off indifferent, but a small sigh escaped him. His shoulders sagged slightly as he replied, “Yeah, I guess we can do some shopping. But forget it, I don’t care for all that pink stuff. You know I like the more natural colors.”

“Oh, come on, pink is essential,” I teased him, trying to lighten the mood.

Rafe rolled his eyes, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice. “Essential? You’re going to make our baby look like a walking cotton candy or something?”

“Yes, and she’ll be the cutest cotton candy to ever exist,” I replied playfully.

After the doctor’s appointment, Rafe and I went to a few stores to pick up some last-minute necessities. He followed me around, slightly frustrated, bearing with the shopping trip. He picked up some items with a hint of annoyance, mostly focusing on the practical things.

“Oh, Rafe, look at this! Isn’t it adorable?” I gushed, holding up a tiny Hello Kitty onesie for him to see.

I held up the onesie, but he barely spared it a glance. “Yeah, it’s cute,” he mumbled, his tone flat and uninterested.

“I’m going to get it,” I said while walking to the checkout line.

Rafe nodded, his expression betraying his lack of enthusiasm.

The birth went smoothly, thanks to the epidural. Rafe had come down to Vegas a week before the due date to make sure everything went smoothly. And while he wasn’t exactly bursting with excitement, there was a hint of anticipation in his eyes when he saw his baby girl for the first time.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” I said, my voice calm but full of affection.

As Rafe looked down at our newborn daughter, a flicker of admiration sparked in his eyes. His voice, softer than usual, added, “Yeah, she is. And she’s ours.”

“I’m going to name her Margaret. A beautiful name for a beautiful baby,” I said, my heart swelling with love for her.

As Rafe heard the name I chose, he nodded, his expression neutral. But there was something in his voice, a subtle approval. “Margaret, huh? That’s a nice name. Definitely better than some of the other ones you had thrown around earlier.”

“Oh, stop it,” I laughed, rolling my eyes playfully.

Rafe smirked, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Hey, I’m just being honest. Some of those names you suggested were ridiculous.”

“Do you want to hold her?” I asked, wanting him to have a moment with our daughter.

He hesitated for a moment, his usual confident demeanor faltering. “Uh, sure. I guess I can hold her. Just for a minute.” As Rafe held the tiny baby in his arms, his expression softened. The usual boldness melted away, giving him a tender tone. He spoke to her in a sweet voice, his words filled with awe. “Hey there, little one… You’re just a tiny little thing, aren’t you?”

Initially, it seemed like things might improve after the baby’s birth, especially when I came home from the hospital. However, over time, Rafe’s behavior changed back to his usual, uncaring demeanor. The brief baby bliss he displayed in the hospital quickly faded.

The phone rang for a few moments before Rafe picked up, his voice slightly irritated as his usual nonchalance seeped through. “What’s up?”

“You promised you’d be here a week ago. Where the hell are you?” I asked, frustration lacing my words.

Rafe sighed, clearly annoyed by the question. His voice remained apathetic as he responded. “I told you, I’ve been busy. I’ve got things to deal with, you know?”

“You have a daughter now. I know you’ve got a wife and two kids back home, but you can’t just abandon us like this,” I said, my voice shaky but firm.

Rafe grumbled, his irritation sharpening his voice. “Abandon? I’m not abandoning anyone. I’m just handling things with my family. I can’t drop everything just because we have a kid now.”

I stayed silent for a moment, processing his words. Does he not think before he speaks? Does he not realize how much his words sting? “Okay, Rafe. Well, make sure you come by... please.”

His tone softened slightly, but his voice remained neutral. “Alright. I’ll swing by in a few days, okay? Don’t keep nagging me about it.”

Six months have passed since Margaret’s birth, and she’s growing cuter and bigger each day. Yet Rafe’s behavior remains unchanged. He continues to act distant, rarely showing any real interest in me or the baby. Rafe is at the apartment again. I thought it would be a calm visit, just the two of us, so he could spend some time with his daughter. But it seems like we can never be around each other without arguing.

“Seriously, can you just relax? You’re being overdramatic about everything,” Rafe says dismissively.

“I’m not being overdramatic! You’re barely here, it’s like we don’t even exist to you,” I snap, unable to hold back the frustration anymore.

Rafe rolls his eyes as he gets up from the floor, where he was playing with Margaret. His voice laced with anger. “Oh please, just because I’m not here 24/7 doesn’t mean you don’t exist to me. I’ve got another family back home. I can’t just ditch them for you.”

“That’s not the point!” I shout, hurt and angry. “At least make an effort to show you actually care. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s fine, but at least try to be in your daughter’s life.”

He groans in frustration, clearly annoyed by my point. “I do show I care, alright? I provide for you, don’t I? And I’ve been over here plenty of times to see her. What more do you want from me?”

“I want you to be a man,” I yell, my voice shaking with anger. “I don’t even know how you can call yourself a father!”

Rafe’s irritation boils over as Margaret starts to cry from the shouting. He shoots me a glare before shouting back in an authoritarian tone, “For Christ’s sake, stop yelling! You’re scaring her!”

“You should blame yourself for this,” I snap, my voice cold. “If it wasn’t for you, this argument wouldn’t have started.”

Rafe’s patience snaps. His frustration morphs into full-blown anger. He steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I’m the one paying your rent, so you better watch your fucking tone. ”

“Or what?” I challenge him, my heart racing.

His eyes narrow, his voice more menacing. “Or you’ll regret it. I’m warning you, don’t test me, not when I’ve got you living under my dollar.”

Rafe walks past me and storms out of the apartment, and the moment the door slams shut, I let the tears fall down my cheeks. I try to hold back my sobs, attempting to stay strong for Margaret’s sake, but the weight of the argument makes it impossible. The situation has reached a breaking point, and I can’t help but wonder how things have gotten so out of control between us.

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x oc #rafe x y/n #rafe angst #lineman!rafe x stripper!reader #ask me🎀#bluecollar!rafe #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader

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quandledlngle69 · 18 hours ago

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🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡

AAYYYYYYY PAPPIIIIIII GOOD FOOD GOOD FOOD GOOD FOOD U MAKE FOR MEEE😝😝😝😝😝😝😝

anyways guys im here you invade ur inbox again like ur writing is the prefect mix of suggestive but also loving and i luurrrvvvvv itttt

but anyways gorjeous im here for uhhhhmmmm a shidou x reader where uhhhhhh shidou finally finds someone who can match his freak like uhhhhhh reader is freaky like him but doesnt finish on the field yk cuz thats highkey crazy uhhmmmm and he js follows her like a puppy all of a sudden bc hes never met anyone thats like him like that so hes js in awe and its really cute and yeah THANK YEW PAPIII👅👅👅👅👅👅

・. ★ wassup beautiful.ᐟ (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) i hope your having a good day when you read this i love writing for shidou and im glad you love my type of writing aaaa also um might as well say a little announcement before i make a official one but i'll be making a really girly hyper!fem side blog as like a thanks for when i hit 200 followers :3 (which is very close) so thank all of you ahhh and anon i love you never stop feeding me requests >.<

☆ CONTENT: general fluff, how you and shidou act towards eachother, how your the only one who match shidous freak and doesn't shun him for how he is. shidou acting like he's hurt so reader babys him at the end. ☆ GENRE/THEMES/WARNING: implied fem!reader, kissing, mention of love-making at the end, shidou being head over heels for reader, shidou doing everything reader does, mentions of hot stoves, burning, blisters, and injury. if i missed any lmk. ☆ W.C. 0.7K

Shidou Ryusei is a complete, utter loverboy.

most people would appreciate that aspect, but most people don't appreciate his overly flamboyant personality or unapologetically bold look. he was too much, and it agitated uptight people. even with the obstacles of just being his natural, sparkling self, he never watered himself down for anyone, and they could choke for all he cared.

that was the cycle before he met you.

his sweetheart, his sugar–cube, his pookie, his darling, his babe–

for the lack of better terms, you matched his freak ten fold.

you never seemed freaked out by him, you never seemed weirded out by his strange or overly sexual words or jokes, even throwing in your own every now and again. you never stopped his excited rants, always batting those pretty long lashes at him, sweetly nodding along, eyes boring into his soul as an extra assurance you were paying attention, hanging off every word.

sometimes he would just call your name, and not say anything else, just lean a inch away from your face and stare. while most people would be annoyed or weirded out, you knew exactly what he was doing. you would prop your arms on whatever surface was nearest; your chin in your palms, a sweet dopey smile on your lips, staring back. eye contact was intimate to shidou, and you would never tell him, but you enjoyed picking out every speck of colour in his pink iris's.

anything you bought, he bought. any clothes you bought, he brought the same in his size. any makeup you bought, he was using. any skincare you bought, he was using. (which you actually scolded him for because they are soooo expensive so you brought him his own gift set.) even perfume, he doesn't give a shit if its 'pink bubblegum', it's your scent and he wants everything to do with you.

his teammates even noticed how he followed you around, a looming hunched figure with his hands in his pockets; almost like a lost puppy of some sort. he didn't even join his teammates when they celebrated his goal's or a goal in general, only jogging over to the stands, climbing over so he can give you a downright sloppy kiss, for the whole world to see.

he's your nirvana, and vise versa. you were the opposite of embarrassed by him–you showed him off to everyone you knew. your friends, your family, hell, it was like glorified word vomit the way you spoke about each other. your family surprisingly to him, loved him, (your younger cousins especially adored him) and his grandma was thankful her grandson had found someone like you, who never teared him down.

but he can be a little shit sometimes.

you were sat on the couch, laptop on your armchair; absorbed in your thesis essay that needed to be submitted by the next hour, and you were still roughly a thousand words short. shidou was presumably messing around in the kitchen, before you hear a loud hiss of pain, and you bolt upright, nearly tripping over your own feet. your eyes flicker to the angry–red top of the stove, immediately concluding he had burnt himself. you didn't wait any time grabbing his hand that was cradled in his chest, putting it over the sink, fumbling with the tap before cold water shot out.

the next two minutes are you rambling about how concerned you are–what if its a second degree burn? he would have to go to the hospital for sure. maybe there's burn cream in the cabinet. you remember buying it the last time you accidentally splashed scalding hot water on yourself. hopefully it doesn't blister to bad–

"–damn, you really do love me huh?" shidou's amused voice snaps you out of your mumbling trace, and you pout your glossy lips at him.

"of course i love you ryu–" you suddenly pause mid sentence. he's grinning, and you know that type of grin from a mile away–

you abruptly pulled his hand from out of the water, checking over it, palm and back, just to see no sign of injury. nothing. no redness, forming blisters, or swelling...your eye twitched. this whole time he faked being hurt because he knew you would baby him.

you shoved him away irritably as he cackled–but it was more of a attempt if anything, hands only meeting with hard muscle that wouldn't budge. so you instead settled on punching his arm. he doesn't seem fazed, his hands reaching up to squish your cheeks together like you were a naive child.

"aww that all ya got? c'mon, hit me harder doll."

that whole thing may have ended in a play fight and maybe a smidgen of love–making, but you took that as his apology for scaring you like that.

only you matched the Shidou Ryusei's freak, physically, emotionally and in spirit.

he wouldn't trade it for anything else.

・. ★ Credits for divider.ᐟ; @.strangergraphics

#bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #shidou ryusei x reader #blue lock shidou #shidou ryusei #bllk shidou #shidou x reader #ryusei shidou #shidou #shidou ryusei x you #ryusei

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melancholygypsophila · 3 days ago

Text

midsummer kiss

synopsis: a sleepover, hidden admiration, and a small white lie. what happens when you suddenly reconnect with friends from early college life with your so-called “ex-boyfriend”?

➺ tags: fluff, childhood friends, sleepover, implied three other friends, college graduation, fluff everywhere, use of pipsqueak, teasing, small gestures, first kiss with caleb, fluff to heal from myth cards, cuteness, slightly shy caleb, tooth-rotting fluff, canon caleb has dry lips yes, considerate caleb

➺ a/n: likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! have fun reading. ;)

➺ ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64238170

The sound of giggles and squealing filled the cushioned space. It was the summer break of your first year in college. Despite the cacophony of cicadas waning as the sun went down, the topic of secrets and crushes came about.

Sitting in a circle, your friends took turns talking about their secret crushes and their code names. Some were silly while others diabolical. Soon, they’ll ask you about your secret romance (to which you had none).

“Okay, okay,” Your friend next to you began, “do you remember that one senior…?” Before she could continue, she excitedly kneaded the pillow on her lap.

Your other friend raised an eyebrow and asked, “We had so many good looking seniors.” You nod absentmindedly at the statement. “Which one are you talking about?”

She leans forward. “You know!” Her mind is working to remember the name of the boy. When she reached her conclusion, she clapped her hands and pointed. “The brown-haired guy that seemed attached to you!” Your eyes followed where her finger was pointing, acknowledging it was in your direction.

Wait. Your direction?

You spit out your water like in one of those sit-down comedy shows. Your friends erupt in laughter. You try to recover after choking on your water. What was Caleb doing in this conversation?

You grab a handful of tissues and distribute them to your friends. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to spit on you guys!” Worry tones your voice. As the laughter subsides, you realize the space has gotten quiet. “Is everyone-”

“Wait. Did you and that senior…” Your friend wiggles her eyebrows and grins, leaning in closer. Her intense gaze causes you to avert your eyes. Quickly, you bring your hands to create a shield from her upcoming questions.

“Ah ha, I knew it!” Your friend blurted. “So you did have something with him!” She backs down, giving you space to (somewhat) relax. Her arms cross before she continues. “Those tiny glances from afar and the way he’d pat your head before he left! Those are tall-tale signs of a secret rendezvous!”

Baffled, you straightened yourself up. Before you were about to oppose her comments, you suddenly realized something. Hearing from your friend now, she made all his little actions seem so significant. Of course you had gotten used to his touches because you’ve known him almost your whole life. However, you didn’t realize that his simple gestures were viewed as romantic gestures from an outsider’s perspective.

You retort. “There’s no way, we’re just childhood friends. Sure, we’re close, but that’s it.”

“Just childhood friends?” Your friend pitches in. You sigh at their harmony in this manner. Teaming up to tease you. “That’s it?” Your friends look at each other, communicating with glances.

They’re not going to give up until I give them an answer. An answer they want. Maybe I should make up something… Caleb wouldn’t mind it! At least I don’t think he would…

Clearing your throat, you pretend to reminisce about your “romantic” past with him. “Fine, we did have something, but it was fleeting.” Your friends lean in to hear your story. “He was…” You think of traits that made people’s hearts clench, “considerate, made daily chores fun, offered me snacks even when he was fatigued, braided my hair…”

Your mind recalls a time where you argued with one of your friends. Caleb gave you the support you needed. His care was cautious yet accurate. A simple arch in your eyebrows and he could tell you were frustrated. Unbeknownst to you, Caleb made it a goal to cheer you up when you were upset about anything, even if that meant taking money out of his own pocket.

You stare at the water in your cup. Your friends take a hint and hug you. “He took good care of you, hm?” Your friend asked. Nodding, you take another sip of water to ease your aching soul. The mingling voices of your friends blurred in the background as you stared at the bottom of the plastic cup.

We’re just friends. Childhood friends. That’s all.

But even that confirmation didn’t settle the uneasiness in your heart.

A school year passes and you go without seeing Caleb for some time. Becoming a student at the DAA and making occasional rounds meant time was preoccupied. Your short week breaks that were usually spent catching up with him were now replaced with calls and a regretful Caleb calling to say, “Sorry pipsqueak, can’t make it. Maybe next time.” Before you knew it, daily contact with Caleb turned into bi-monthly calls.

Eventually, graduation came around. It was a sunny day, fit for graduating students. From your seat, countless caps cover the surface of the field. A few move as they look for their loved ones from the stadium. Thinking of Caleb, your eyes turn towards the bleachers.

“Hey! You’re supposed to go now!” A voice whisper-yells, pointing at the increasingly large gap between you and the students lining up to walk across the stage.

After the ceremony, graduation caps were thrown in the air. A rouse of yelling, crying, and laughing filled the air. The rush of students waiting to take pictures with their loved ones. As you gather your things, your tassel moves in your vision. Before you could move it, a shadow loomed over, quickly adjusting the tassel.

Your heart leaps in joy.

You turn around, it really is him. His brown hair and genuine smile greets you in the warm sunshine. “Caleb!” Your arms wrap around his neck.

“Woah,” he takes a step back to balance you in his arms. “You’ve gotten taller.” As you let go, his eyes have a twinge of frustration and guilt. At the moment, you’re not sure why he wears that expression, but you shake your head to get rid of any negative thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears threatened to spill out. A goofy expression appears upon your face as you try to contain the tears. He bends down and pats your head gently. It took him so long to get here. His face distorts to pain as you pinch his waist.

“Ow.” He lets out a weak sigh. “That wasn’t very nice.”

You grin. “I’m really glad you were able to make it today.”

“Me too, pipsqueak.” Caleb reciprocates your smile with a nod. “Although, your manners need some work. Who knew you would still be childish as an adult?” He removes your cap, brushing back the strands of hair clinging to your forehead. Caleb mysteriously pulls out a water bottle and opens the cap for you. “Do you feel hot? Should I tie your hair?”

Before you respond, you hear a group of familiar voices. “Oh my god, we finally found you! This place is so-”

“Is that Caleb?!” One of your friends exclaims. Caleb looks at you and uses his chin to point towards your friends.

Uh oh.

“Ah- he-” Your brain malfunctions. Crap, you didn’t tell Caleb about that one sleepover thing. How you used his name to get you out of a situation. “Uh, yes, this is Caleb.”

You don’t see it, but Caleb raises an eyebrow before putting up his perfect smile.

“Hello, you must be her friend.” Caleb greets. “Congratulations for graduating.”

Sweat pools at your neck. Not even Caleb’s shadow, which is blocking the sun, is helping it disappear.

Your friend smiles. “Thank you! It’s good to see you here. They tell us a lot about you!”

Caleb’s interest appears. He makes a teasing smile at you and looks back at your friends. “I wonder what they’ve said about me. Hopefully it’s good, right?”

Your friend, unaware of the elephant in the room, chimes in. “Yes! Aren’t you their ex-boyfriend?”

Who says anything good about their ex-boyfriend? You silently cursed yourself.

Caught off guard, Caleb laughs. That’s not what he was expecting to hear, but he had to keep the conversation going. He places his hand on your waist and pulls you closer to him. “I just couldn’t leave them. I got too attached and now I find myself clinging back to them.”

Your friends are in awe at his response. All you could do was pinch his waist.

He grunts before awkwardly laughing it off. “Sorry, did you need them for something?”

A lightbulb clicks in your friend’s head. “Oh, we wanted to take a group picture with them! Do you mind taking the picture for us?”

“Sure, why not.” Caleb shrugs, gently pushing your back and placing the cap on your head. Your friend hands him their phone and runs back to where the rest of you are. As you and your friends figure out your spots, Caleb quickly takes a quick snapshot of you before adjusting the lens of your friend’s phone. “Ready? Three, two, one.”

Your friend reviews the pictures and smiles. “Um, do you want me to take a picture of the two of you?” You quickly mouth “no”, but Caleb’s verbal “yes” overwrites your reply.

You adjust the flowers (your friends rushed to give you) and stiffly stand beside Caleb.

“Hey! Why do you look so stiff!” Your friend yells. Embarrassed, you move a smidge closer to Caleb before he pulls you in by the waist again.

He leans down to your ear. The proximity between the two of you closes.

“Smile.” He whispers, and you could hear the camera click from afar.

After the ceremony, you and Caleb decide to walk back home instead of getting on the train to make up for all the time lost.

“Ex-boyfriend, huh?” Caleb suddenly says. You pause in your path and look at him. Upon seeing your distraught expression, he laughs again.

“Caleb…” You mumble. “I didn’t mean to use your name in that way. My friends-”

“Right, right, I understand.” Caleb interrupts, poking your cheek and steps in front of you. “Good job on graduating.”

His considerate words warm your heart. “Thanks, Caleb.” You pause. “Also, sorry for using your name again.”

Caleb grabs your hand and pulls you along to a nearby playground. Your feet skid across the concrete and then woodchips. You settle down on the swings as he holds the chain steady.

“I’m not bothered that you used my name.” Caleb acknowledges. “However, I wasn’t expecting to be a previous lover of yours.”

“The situation just called for it.” You rolled your eyes and looked up at him. His shoulders move as he suppresses a laugh.

“Then, you’ll give me another chance, right?” Caleb asks. Your eyes widen. Another chance?

You raised an eyebrow. “Another chance? You didn’t do anything wrong though.”

Caleb smiles. “No, another chance to redeem myself as your boyfriend.” Oh.

His hand moves under your chin, tilting your head up. Before you realize what’s happening, he leans in and pauses right before he makes contact with your lips. The silence is loud. He’s waiting for your signal yet his actions are betraying him. As you close your eyes, the distance between you closes. You can hear the swing screech as you move in the plastic seat.

“Caleb-” Your exclamation is interrupted by another kiss on the corner of your lips.

The humid weather breezing past manages to cool you down as Caleb’s kiss warms you up. When Caleb moves away, his eyes look down at you. They're vulnerable and innocent.

“Wait.” Caleb covers his eyes and laughs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You’re equally flushed. “What… What do you mean?!” Caleb removes his arm that’s covering his face, grabs the sides of your face, and reels you into another sweet kiss.

The roaring cicadas are the only things your senses can grapple on. Eventually, you and Caleb situate feelings and you walk home again together, hand in hand. Your time with him might be fleeting, but you’re determined to make the most of it. Especially when Caleb is by your side.

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f4ggydog · 2 days ago

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Could I request Shauna and chubby size reader smut ?Where the reader is insecure about their body. But Shauna shows them that they shouldn't be insecure... Add whatever you like lmaooo thanks :))) 😂

I cal fill out a couple of old stuff since my brain doesn’t want to brain for ao3 and personal writing rn (kmsing) minors dni

“All these rolls,” you sigh, glancing down at your body. Shauna always told you that your imperfections were nonexistent, that they were all in your head. But you couldn’t stop comparing yourself to models on the magazines, to billboards, to people walking down the street, to some random person on the bus.

Your self consciousness always ate you up inside. It was devouring you piece by piece, like a cannibal feasting on their favorite human. There were mosquitos always present on your body, sucking the life out of you with every drop of insecurity.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Shauna scoffs. “You always do this. Every single time.”

“Does it bother you?” You whimper. If Shauna was burdened by your insecurities, she didn’t have to stay with you. She wasn’t required to. Nobody was holding a gun to her head.

“Just upsetting that you can’t see how gorgeous you are,” Shauna praises. “I promise I’m not frustrated at you. And I’m not gonna…explain your own insecurities to you. It’s just…you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

You sniffle.

“How do you not see what I fucking see? It’s impossible.”

Shauna will prove it. If she can’t convince you by just words alone, she’ll use her tongue, every part of her mouth. She’ll worship you. Fuck it, she’ll devour you until your body explodes. She’ll take her time or rush, whatever you wish. Just as long as she can show you how deeply you mean to her.

Shauna starts with your slit, squeezing your squishy inner thighs and moaning at the softness against her fingers. There was more to love, more to appreciate. How could she fucking complain?

Shauna works her tongue vertically, opening your cunt for her hands and tongue to explore. She laces her trail with kisses, smooch after smooch until you urge to go further. You were all about action, less teasing.

It isn’t long until Shauna starts attacking your clit. It perks up in response to Shauna’s attention. She sucks on the nub before releasing it with a pop. You wiggle underneath her and Shauna presses more firmly on your thighs.

“Stay still,” she urges. “I’m nowhere near done.”

“Already so sensitive,” you whine weakly. “I know you just started, but fuck.”

“This is what you get. You wanted to complain about how you look and now you have to deal with me worshipping you. If you didn’t want that, you shouldn’t have degraded yourself in front of me.”

“But babe-“

“Nope, don’t wanna hear it.”

Shauna keeps going, despite your pleads. You involuntarily buck into her face, smearing your pussy against her face. Your thighs quake and your toes curl at the sensation that keeps hitting you in that perfect spot. Suddenly, you start forgetting what you were even discussing earlier.

“So perfect,” Shauna whispers. “So fucking delicious. Every part of you is simply divine. Every fucking part of you. Fucking stunning and delicious. I could literally bite you.”

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fandom #shauna shipman #shauna yellowjackets #shauna sadecki #shauna shipman smut #shauna shipman x you #shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets smut #smut #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader

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thebarontheabyss · 24 hours ago

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hi love!! hope you're doing better, we miss you <3<3 please please please don't put unnecessary pressure on yourself, you should put your wellbeing before our entertainment! your IF is genuinely so good already and shows how talented a writer you are. as a perfectionist, things are never going to be perfect, and i know you're worried about people's interest waning, but that's okay because it's going to happen even to the best of games! pace yourself, and take as long as you need :)

Omg, this is so kind! ❤️ Thank you.

Honestly my reasons for taking a break are so dumb I’m kind of embarrassed to share them, but my therapist did say I should be more honest about my feelings with people lol, so maybe this is a good opportunity to just lay them out in the open. Or… puke them.

First of all, I’m sorry for disappearing on y’all like that.

I was dealing with a nasty combo of starting a new job and recovering from a year-long depression.

This game kept me going for a long time and gave me a reason to get up in the morning. I discovered an amazing community here on Tumblr, and I genuinely appreciate every single one of you who took the time to play TBOTA. You gave me air when I felt I had none.

Ironically, now that I'm recovering, I'm starting to have self-doubts about myself, my writing, and the game. Ultimately, I want it to be published, but I’ve really struggled to get people to read it beyond Tumblr and the small, yet incredible, reader base the game has here.

Which is understandable, I didn’t exactly picked the hottest and most popular genre for these types of games lol, and I SHOULD be thankful for what I already have…

But I was also, as Katya Zamolodchikova once said, “bombarded by a cacophony of demonic voices in my head telling me YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH”

Wow this is getting longer than I wanted.

Anyway, the point is, I just feel like updateing here is a time I could spend working on the update, which I’m working on but very slowly atm. I am trying to pick up my pace, and thank you for providing me an opportunity to update because I didn’t know how or what to say.

So… to all patrons who are waiting for the next update… I won't disappoint. Finishing this game is something I’m going to do for me, to prove to myself I could, first and foremost.

And I’m so thankful for each and every one of you who joined me along the way to the Abyss.

Esh ❤️

#thebarontheabyss #tbota #interactive fiction #choice of games #cog #choicescript #hosted games #hosted game #interactive novel #wip #tbota update #if update #wip update #update

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pinkyqily · 3 days ago

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Could you do ice x softball reader? Like reader having a bad game and ice comforting them?

SUMMARY: you had a bad game woomp womp what the fuck I hate writing summary fuck this shit just read the darn fics ho!

WARINGS: NOTHING

KYI'S RADIO: ice fic finally here hope y'all like this apologize that it short ion have that much knowledge of soft ball I tired my best writing with what ik, anyway happy readings readers and as always feedbacks are appreciated 💕

You had a bad game, could you even call it bad it was horrible, horrific for all that matters. you felt like you disappointed everyone, your coaches, teammates, and fans out there who came to watch you play.

Most especially you felt disappointed in yourself for having her watching you play like this... after raving about your games to her all week.

Why is the universe such a stuck up whore.

Your team was undefeated your whole season until recently. Your hits weren't it. Nothing was going according to plan for you guys, and you hated it.

You got off the field taking off your helmet and just letting your hair down.

The heat was getting to you, you could barely face your coaches and teammate without feeling your heart breaking.

You manged to lock eyes with someone you thought you couldn't face.

But she was in those stands, staring at you. Her expression soft has ever, skin glowing under the sun light, giving it that after hours glow.

You saw a small smile show up on her face as she started heading down.

The drive back to your dorm wasn't torture ice held your hands even though you guys stayed quite the whole ride back.

It was a comforting type of silence though. Until she broke it as you got out the uber and started heading back inside to the athletes dorm side.

"If you think about it your guys weren't that bad just had a bad start that's all if not it was a worthy game". You heard say

"Yeah a bad start that cost us the game and the undefeated title". You said feeling on taking the responsibility for your loss.

She stopped in her tracks as she told you. "C'om, you can't be that hard on yourself you've been carrying your team the whole season anyone can tell you put so much pressure on yourself."

"I know, just hate the feeling that losing brings feels like I disappointed so many people." You said playing with the strings on your hoodie trying to avoid eye contact which didn't work because the taller women had other idea by holding up your face.

"Well you didn't you're such and amazing player whenever you step in one nad game shouldn't take away from the amazing recors you broke this season , if you look at this on the bright side both our teams lost our undefeated title". She said making you laugh

"That so messy to say but thank you i just needed to hear that from someone glad it came from you". You said locking eyes with her you guys finally made it to your dorm side.

You both stood under the wall cover meeting with the same silence yous started with. "So do is this the part where kiss or not?". You asked her as you moved back and forth.

Ice being her usual self started laughing and you joined her along you both haven't reached the heights of being all that affectionate with your relationship stil being fresh. "You are so corny but I wouldn't mind a kiss". She told you

"Do you also want me to bend down or". She said looking down at you. Compared to ice who is very tall you not so much.

You looked at her dead in the eyes before speaking.

"Isuneh Brady, you can forget about the kiss goodnight." You told her as you were about to enter your room until you felt her grab your hands.

You turned around to ask her what she wanted but before you could speak. Your lips found there way onto hers. You both held it for a while until you separated from each other.

Ice tucked in her hand in her pocket as she spoke "Goodnight babe love you, don't stress too much".

"Goodnight and I won't, love you too Brady". You told her.

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dailynnt · 17 hours ago

Text

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Chunguk reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 7/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lovers, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope, undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension

⋆˙⟡ From author: Hello my dear armies 💜 My birthday was so wonderful, I didn't even expect it! So many people congratulated me and I felt how much people love me and it's so nice 🤭🥰 I wanted to have time to publish a chapter on my birthday, but I didn't, because you know, I was distracted all the time! But I did it for you 💜🫶🏻 I decided to show some a little bit of Y/N's character and actually what the relationship is like between them now. They argue so much don't they? 😅 Anyway, let me know how you liked this chapter? You know how much I appreciate everyone who reads my stories! You make me happy every day! THANK YOU FOR THAT 💜🫶🏻🥺

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko007, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko007, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl, @vantelover1306, @deepikhaprakash, @mar-lo-pap, @zeytiable, @lallataegi, @vintagemoonsstuff, @indigomoonchild09 (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 7. Time to start

The café was only half full, the perfect place to have a quiet conversation. You were sitting across from Jisu, stirring your long-cold coffee with a spoon. Three days had passed since the last article about you. No new headlines, no gossip. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

Jisu was flipping through her phone, she'd picked it up to see when the deadline was for a project you'd been working on together. But she seemed distracted, as her fingers scrolled through the page in her browser.

"Have you noticed that no articles have been written about you in the last three days?" Jisu took a sip of her matcha latte, not looking up from her phone. "I was getting used to the fact that every tab in my browser has your picture on it."

You hummed, setting your cup down. You can guess who did this. You felt a little embarrassed at the mere mention of Jungkook, but you suppressed it with skill. You couldn't help but be happy that he had begun to fulfill his end of the bargain.

"I noticed. I think it's Jungkook. He promised me he'd take care of it."

Jisu nodded, her gaze lingering on your face.

"So you talked to him?" she asked, lowering her voice slightly so as not to sound too inquisitive. But you knew your friend very well. You were sure she was burning with curiosity.

"Yes." you answered briefly, showing that you were not in the mood to talk about it. Besides, you have nothing to tell Jisu. You're not going to tell her that during that conversation you made a new agreement about a fake relationship and fucked after that. The memory of that night makes your stomach clench.

"And what was his excuse about the fiancée?" Jisu continued to ask. Her eyes were burning. You knew you had to tell your friend something or she would go crazy. You looked away, telling her a half-truth.

"He said his parents were forcing him to get married. But he didn't want me to be nervous about it, so he didn't say anything about it."

Both of you were silent. You listened to the noise of cars passing by the café.

"So what's going on between you two now? Did you have a fight?" Jisu asked cautiously.

You sighed slightly, noticing out of the corner of your eye that your friend was staring at you, waiting for an answer.

"No, we didn't fight," you answered, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible.

"But something's wrong," she said insistently, leaning slightly toward you. "You seem reluctant to talk about him."

You huffed a relaxed hum, grabbing for your cup even though you weren't going to drink anymore.

"I've never been one to talk about my personal stuff."

"Y/N." Jisu folded her hands on the table and looked at you. "Are you really dating him, or is it something else?"

You froze for a split second, but quickly pulled yourself together.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know..." She frowned. "He came into your life so... suddenly. And now this whole fiancée thing."

"Actually, he came into my life a long time ago," you countered, and it was the truth. You had met Jungkook even before you met Jisu. You just never thought you'd have to play the role of his girlfriend. And that you would have to introduced him with your coworkers.

"We communicated for a long time, and then it turned into something more." you lied and barely stopped yourself from squirming. You weren't at all happy about being connected to Jungkook, and being connected to Jungkook, who was the heir to one of the most powerful companies in Korea, was even worse.

Jisu studied you, as if trying to determine how true your words were.

"But the fact that he's the heir to the ‘Jeon Group’ doesn't scare you?"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Why would I be?"

Jisu shrugged, leaning back in her chair.

"Because of his status. He is used to power and that the world belongs to him. He... seems a little dangerous to me." She paused, searching for words. "I can't explain it, but he has this... cold look. Like someone who's used to being in control."

You laughed a little nervously. Jisu had definitely picked up on this striking character trait of Jungkook's. He really does want to be in control.

"It's just his communication style." you defended him, even though you didn't mean to.

"Maybe..." Jisu still had her doubts. "But are you sure you're okay?"

You could feel her genuine concern and even felt a little touched. You weren't okay to be honest, but you had to reassure your friend.

"Yes, I'm fine," you answered with a smile. Jisu clearly wanted to continue the conversation, but in the end, she didn't.

"How's our project going? You said you needed to finalize the presentation?" you asked, quickly changing the topic of conversation.

"Yeah, I'll need your help with the layout."

"Oh, I'd love to help," you smiled.

Jisu pulled out her laptop, and you watched her open the file she needed. But you couldn't help but think about your dialog.

Jisu doesn't like Jungkook. Hmm. You laughed inwardly. You wondered why she thought he was dangerous. He was nice and friendly at the corporate party. You remember Jisu smiling at him and speaking to him with respect, and now she's saying he's dangerous.

Maybe she's worried that he's just playing with you and will leave you? But you're not really dating, she shouldn't be worried about that...oh right, she doesn't know that.

"Okay, here." Jisu turned her laptop toward you, opening the presentation. "I can't decide which background is better. This one or this one?"

She showed you two slides: one with a dark background and white text, the other light with pastel accents.

"The dark one looks more stylish, but the light one is more readable," you leaned closer, evaluating the options.

"What a dilemma." Jisu bit her lip.

You discussed the layout some more, and managed to distract yourself. But somewhere in the back of your mind, the thought was still running through your mind: why did Jisu change her mind about Jungkook so much? Did she see something that you hadn't noticed?

"You're getting your head in the clouds again," Jisu noticed, folding her arms across her chest.

"I'm just thinking," you shook your head lightly, trying to get rid of the unwanted thoughts. Your phone alerted you to a new message.

You saw Jungkook's name on the screen. Your pulse quickened. Now your reaction to him was like this all the time. And considering your last fight, you were nervous because you hadn't spoken in almost three days. Not a single text or call. You hadn't crossed paths at the house either.

"I'm sorry, Jisu." you said, picking up your smartphone. She got up from her seat, not even looking upset.

"Oh, don't worry about it. You can check your phone, and I'll go to the restroom in the meantime."

You just nodded without looking in her direction and immediately opened the message.

📲 Jungkook: "At eight in the evening, I'll pick you up. Be ready. We're going to an afterparty tonight."

You furrowed your brows. For three days, he hadn’t been around, and now he’s suddenly saying you’re going somewhere. He practically just told you what’s happening. You looked at the clock. It was almost four in the afternoon. If you really had to visit some afterparty , you needed to head home and start getting ready.

You noticed that he didn't even say hello to you. Was he offended or something, or too busy to take an extra second to write "hi"? This thought made you feel a strange combination of irritation and disappointment.

And one more question: What’s the after-party like? How do you dress there? Why can't he just explain it in a normal way?

You pressed your lips together, quickly typing out the answer:

📱 You: "For more information I’m needed buy a premium membership? 😤"

Jungkook replied quickly. As if he was waiting for your message.

📲 Jungkook: "Yes. 100 thousand won."

📱 You: "I think I'll pass. Do we have to go there together?"

📲 Jungkook: "Yes"

One short word. No explanation. No arguments. Just "yes". He didn't write anything else.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension slowly building. Your trembling fingers beat on the touchscreen with excitement.

📱 You: "Okay. I'll be ready by 8 pm."

Jungkook read your message and didn't reply. A second later, you notice that he's logged out of the chat. Your show to be a good couple starts tonight. The thought of playing the role of his girlfriend made your shoulders tense.

A party where everyone will know you're his "girlfriend." More attention. More gossip. More pressure.

But you had no choice. You had to get your job back. And Jungkook had to get his freedom. So you just do what you have to do. For now.

You abruptly stood up from your chair, straightening your shirt. A minute later, Jisu returned to the table.

"Are you leaving already?" she asked in surprise, noticing that you were putting your bag on your shoulder.

"Yes, dear. I have plans for tonight."

You gave her a slight smile, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and left the coffee shop, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Jungkook was supposed to be here any minute. You got ready as fast as you could. After taking a shower, you put on some light makeup. All that was left was to get dressed.

You opened your wardrobe and started sorting through your clothes, trying to find something suitable for the afterparty. You had to look nice because you were the Jungkook’s partner.

Eventually, you settled on an elegant black tight-fitting dress that fell to mid-thigh. It had graceful cutouts on the sides, revealing a little bit of waist, and thin straps that emphasized the shoulder line. You completed your look with classic black pumps and minimalist silver jewelry. You neatly styled your hair in loose waves.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you were satisfied. You looked expensive, but without being too pretentious. This is not your first time attending such events. Part of your job description was to attend events related to clients, brands, or influencers. And you knew exactly what you had to look like.

Jungkook showed up at the door at eight sharp, as promised. He was dressed in all white. A short denim jacket, a white T-shirt underneath that emphasized his perfect, pumped-up body, and white denim pants that were wide at the bottom. He was wearing sneakers on his feet.

You were frozen holding the doorknob. Jungkook looked so gorgeous in all white. His black hair contrasted with his clean image.

But there was one problem. Your outfit didn't match his.

Just as you thought about it, the branded shopping bag in his hands caught your attention. He was holding a bag with the logo of Andersson Bell, one of Korea's most luxurious brands.

Jungkook quickly looked you up and down, his gaze running along your body line, and for a moment something satisfied flashed in his dark eyes, but he instantly returned to his mask of indifference.

"Hi," he said, clearing his throat. He held out the hand in which he held the shopping bag. You pressed your lips together involuntarily, looking at him and then at the brand logo on the bag. It was not just an expensive brand, but also one of those with which his company had often cooperated. Jungkook had clearly chosen it for a reason. "Change into this."

You were dissatisfied. You had worked so hard to choose your outfit, and he had ruined it. He could have just warned you how to dress, but this is Jungkook. He didn't do it on purpose and you knew it. This is how he shows control over the situation. But you decided that you would teach him a lesson. If he didn’t warn you how to look, it means you won’t wear what he brought you.

"What do you mean, change? I'm already dressed." you said colorlessly, clutching the doorknob. Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

"Your dress doesn't match my look. As a couple, we should complement each other." His voice was low and confident. Not imperious, but categorical.

You were about to object, but at the same time you knew he was right. In a world where image decides everything, a couple should look harmonious. But it's his problem that he didn't tell you how to dress in the first place. You rolled your eyes slightly. You grabbed your clutch and phone and were about to leave the apartment, showing Jungkook that you wouldn't do what he said.

His hand grabbed your elbow, stopping you in the doorway.

"Where are you going, Y/N?" he asked as he was close to you. You proudly turned your head to him, noticing the irritation on his handsome face.

"To a party. I'm not changing my clothes." you said firmly. Jungkook stared at you for a long few seconds, clearly suppressing a wave of anger. Your heart was beating fast.

"Y/N let's not fight with you right now, and you just take this bag and go change." he spoke clearly but you could feel how angry he was. You smiled tightly.

"No. I'm not going to change into whatever you want. You should have told me what to wear before that. Besides, I'm not your doll that you can dress up as you please."

Jungkook shoved you into the apartment and slammed the door. You pulled your hand away and walked away from him, stopping by the armchair.

"You will wear what I brought and it's not negotiable." his voice sounded irritated, and sparks of anger burned in his dark eyes.

"What am I, your slave that you order? We are partners in case you forgot?"

Jungkook walked up to you, stopping a step away. His gaze slid over you from head to toe, and then he abruptly threw the shopping bag at your feet.

"I see you've taken to making silly scenes?" He asked. You raised your eyebrows.

"I don't make scenes. If you want us to work together properly, you have to keep me informed: "what," "how," and "where." You've decided something for own, after you just put me in front of the fact, that we're going to a party. And then you show up with the clothes that I have to wear." Your mood was spoiled and you didn't want to go with Jungkook at all now.

He smiled, but it was far from friendly.

"Why are you so stubborn. You could have just put it on and not made a problem out of nothing. Why do you have to complicate things?"

You snorted, looking away, unable to bear the gaze of those black eyes.

"You complicate everything. You just need to realize that I'm part of this deal and you have to take my opinion into account."

"Y/N," he took a step closer, making you feel the warmth of his body. You leaned into the back of the armchair and panicked a little. "Let's get one thing straight. I take your opinion into account exactly as long as it doesn't conflict with my interests."

You glared angrily. His insolence was infuriating, but what was even more annoying was that he said it with such calm confidence, as if it were something completely normal. You exhaled slowly, trying to contain your irritation.

"Do I understand correctly?" you asked coldly, folding your arms across your chest. "If my opinion doesn't coincide with yours, then it simply doesn't exist?"

Jungkook tilted his head slightly to the side, watching you with a slight squint.

"I'd say your preferences matter... but only if they don't interfere with the bigger picture."

"Big picture?" You huffed dismissively. "You mean if I want to wear a different dress, that's going to ruin your whole image? Oh, poor thing, maybe you shouldn't have brought me along at all if it's that serious."

A shadow of a smile flickered across his lips.

"I'd love to leave you at home, kitten, but unfortunately we have to go together. We made a deal, remember?" You clenched your teeth. But he continued to speak. "And if you've noticed, I've already started to fulfill my end of the bargain. The media stopped writing about you. So be grateful and do your part." He nodded his head toward the package at your feet.

"Our agreement didn't say that I had to dress the way you wanted. I'm going in what I'm wearing." You stood your ground.

Jungkook squeezed his fingers and then calmly replied:

"You said it yourself - we are partners. But in a partnership, there are compromises."

You squinted your eyes.

"Compromises? What kind are those? The ones that only work one way — I give in, and you get what you want?"

He smiled, but it was almost calculating.

"You're wasting our time with this meaningless talk. If you don't change yourself, I'll do it for you."

You inhaled sharply, staring at him in shock and indignation.

"Don't you dare touch me."

"Then do what I ask," he straightened up, becoming serious again.

You clenched your jaws, feeling your cheeks burn with anger.

"If you want things your way so badly, you can go on your own."

Jungkook squinted his eyes.

"Not an option."

"For me, it is."

You walked around Jungkook and took a few steps toward the bedroom, hoping he would just get tired of it and back off. But the next moment, he grabbed your wrist and turned you around.

"Y/N, don't make me lose my patience," his voice was low and his fingers were hot on your skin.

"And don't make me hate you even more," you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. But Jungkook didn't let you. His other hand went around your waist, holding you tightly to him. Your heart skipped a beat. His closeness made your whole being tremble. His eyes fell to your lips.

"You're driving me crazy with your antics. And if it weren't for your stupid rule, I would have punished you already." He said low and confident. You unconsciously held your breath. You could only imagine the kind of sex you could have had between you. You were both on the edge. You feel throbbed between your legs. You aroused.

"Let go of me." You said calmly, even though you were hot. Jungkook squeezed his fingers tighter.

"Can we forget about your rule for the last time today? I could fuck you sweetly and you'd calm down." Jungkook suggested seductively, leaning closer.

The warmth of his body, his hand, and the scent of his perfume made your mind blur. The desire he aroused in you was on the level of an animal. Your body screamed to accept his proposal, but your brain stopped you. No, you would not fall for his charms again.

You rested your hands on his chest, ignoring the throbbing between your legs.

"No. We won't forget the rule. You've been touching me unnecessarily for too long. Let go."

"You want me to. I can see your eyes light up. Come on, kitten, I'll make it quick and qualitatively." said Jungkook. He took a few steps with you to your bedroom door.

"Are you really crazy? I don't want to have sex with you. You were yelling that we were late..." you panicked. If he going to be more insistent, you mayjust give up. Jungkook led you to the back of your bedroom, and you decided that you would agree to change so that he would let you go. Jungkook kissed your neck and you immediately felt goosebumps. "Jungkook, I'm going to change the clothes. I'm going to change and we're going to the afterparty."

He stopped and looked at you carefully. You were breathing rapidly.

"Let’s you stay in that dress, but I'll fuck you?" Jungkook suggested with hope in his voice and a slight smile on his lips. His hands skillfully lifted your dress up your hips. He was so sure it was going to happen.

"No. You're not going to do that. We don't have sex anymore. We have a rule. And I'm going to change into what you bought. Now let me go." You pulled out of his arms, and Jungkook froze in disappointment in the middle of your bedroom. You walked out of the room, barely able to stop yourself from shaking. Jungkook almost got what he wanted.

You grabbed a shopping bag of famous brand clothes and turned to go to the bathroom when you met Jungkook's gaze standing in your bedroom doorway. He looked disappointed and displeased. You wanted to laugh at him. You pursed your lips to keep from doing that.

"I'll be waiting for you in the car." he said colorlessly and walked past you, no longer looking in your direction. He slammed the door, and you shrugged your shoulders and went to change.

Jungkook chose an interesting and unusual look for you. The bag from Andersson Bell included a white asymmetrical top with long sleeves and open shoulders. Wide jean pants in ivory color. Now instead of heels, you put on your favorite white Nike sneakers.

You went downstairs and found Jungkook's car not far from the entrance. You walked over and noticed that he was on his phone. You exhaled, opened the door, and got into the car.

You tried hard to banish the memories that immediately flooded your mind. The last time you were in this car, you had sex with Jungkook twice. It was so fucking great.

Jungkook gave you a half-view, when you got inside and then started the car and drove out of the yard.

He was staring at the road with concentration. You sat in the passenger seat, scrolling on your phone. Jungkook was silent the whole way. You shifted a little, getting comfortable, and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his fingers tighten their grip on the steering wheel. He looked calm, but you knew a storm was raging inside him.

You smiled at the corners of your lips, knowing that his irritation was a direct result of your stubbornness. But you didn't feel sorry for him. Jungkook always got what he wanted, and you liked that today you had managed to spoil his plans, even if only partially.

You decided to pretend that you didn't notice his indignation and continued to scrolling on your phone, scrolling through the news feed.

After another 10 minutes of silence, you couldn't take it anymore. You're going to have to play the role of a couple, and how can you do that when he's silent like a fish?

"What, you going to be offended now?" You asked ironically, not looking away from the screen.

Jungkook didn't answer right away. He seemed to be about to say something, but then changed his mind and pressed harder on the gas pedal.

"I'm not offended," he finally said dryly. You snorted.

"Oh, of course you are. You're just sitting there, pouting like a child who hasn't been given a toy."

"I'm not a child," his voice darkened.

"But you act like I took away your favorite candy," you mocked.

Jungkook glanced at you briefly and then returned his gaze to the road.

"You just like to spoil my mood," he said.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry I didn't let you fuck me before we went to the party," you replied sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest. "But we agreed, nothing would have happened anyway..."

Jungkook slammed on the brakes before the traffic light, forcing you to move forward a little. You looked at him angrily, but Jungkook just pressed his lips into a thin line.

"You're going to wish you hadn't added that rule," Jungkook said confidently, watching the traffic light, "I'm going to make you beg me."

You raised an eyebrow, not hiding your skepticism.

"Oh, really? I'm getting scared right now."

Jungkook looked at you again, this time a little longer, a little sharper. His lips stretched into a subtle smile, the kind that sent shivers down your spine.

"You will."

He spoke so quietly and confidently that you held your breath for a second. But you didn't allow yourself to show that these words really hurt you.

"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to your phone.

The traffic light changed, and Jungkook stepped on the gas, forcing the car to lurch forward.

Jungkook got out of the car without even looking in your direction. He slammed the door, straightened his shoulders, and walked forward, leaving you a little behind. This caused a strange feeling somewhere deep inside. But you forced yourself to put on an indifferent expression and just followed.

You walked after him, feeling the tension between you become almost physically tangible. Only when you reached the entrance did Chunguk suddenly stop and take your hand. His fingers were warm and his grip was firm. He intertwined your fingers and squeezed your palm, harder than necessary. You almost flinched from this touch, but pretended that everything was fine.

Inside the afterparty venue, it was stylish and luxurious: light panels, mirrors, elegant mannequins in the brand's new collection. The bartender was elegantly pouring champagne into tall glasses, and a jazz band was performing on stage.

Without any explanation, Jungkook led you to a group of men standing a little to the side. One of them was Kim Taehyung, the owner of a boutique and the heir to ʼVante Maisonʼ. He was famous in the fashion world and was a famous actor. He looked confident and elegant, wearing an impeccable suit, with a light, almost lazy smile.

Next to him stood Park Jimin, graceful, charming, with mischievous sparkles in his eyes. An idol who focused on acting.

And the third was Jeon Hoseok, whose smile could melt even an icy heart. He was a famous fashion designer. He often collaborated with ‘Vante Maison’. You knew these people only from the news on the Internet and secular magazines. And now you have the opportunity to know them in real life.

"Jungkookie, at last," Taehyung said, raising his glass in a gesture of welcome. "We were beginning to think you weren't coming." His gaze slid over you, and he squinted his eyes. "Who is this lovely girl next to you?"

The three men looked at you carefully and with undisguised curiosity. Jungkook shook all their hands, not letting go of your palm.

"How could I not come?"

He smiled slightly and looked at you. You smiled back at him.

"Meet friends, this is my Y/N."

"Yours?" Taehyung paused briefly, glancing between the two of you.

"A girlfriend," Jungkook clarified briefly, squeezing your hand a little tighter as if to reinforce that statement.

"A girlfriend? That's new," Jimin smiled, but you could tell he was definitely suspicious. "I hope you know who you're messing with."

"Jimin..." Jungkook grimaced. "Don't start..."

"No, we're just concerned about this girl." Hoseok winked at you and raised his glass. "If you've stuck it out with him for even a few days, you deserve respect."

You nodded, laughing heartily at Hoseok’s words. So you're not the only one who thinks that way about him. Jungkook clicked his tongue in displeasure.

"I don't think he's that obnoxious. He can be charming." you said with a big smile.

"Oh, really?" said Taehyung, raising an eyebrow in interest. Jimin snorted and took a sip of champagne, looking slyly at Jungkook.

"That's the first time anyone's ever said that about him without being ironic."

If you weren't pretending to be his girlfriend, you would have said so. But you should have pretended to be in love with him.

"She's joking, right?" Hoseok theatrically put his hand to his chest.

"No, I'm not joking." You glanced over at Jungkook, whose eyes were fixed on you. His lips twitched in a slight smile, and his fingers ran softly over your palm.

"He can be charming, you say?" Taehyung huffed, casting a quick glance at Jungkook. "Well, well. I'll have to see it for myself. In any case, we are pleased to meet you. Welcome to my party!" Taehyung raised his glass to the side.

"I am happy to be here today! Thank you so much!" you said, making your smile as natural as possible.

"Have you said everything?" Jungkook sighed, pulling you closer to him. "Or can I take her to the others now, before you scare her off completely?"

"Actually, we're glad Jungkook has someone. We didn't expect it because our young man is so hardworking." Hoseok said sincerely, putting his hand on Jungkook's shoulder.

"We'll go greet the other ones and come back." Jungkook said, becoming softer. "Come on. There are a few more people you should meet." Jungkook turned to you and led the way.

You nodded, and he led you across the room, leaving behind the curious glances of his friends.

Jungkook also introduced you to a man named Namjoon, a man you had never met before. He turned out to be a businessman and art investor. A little later, Jin and Yoongi showed up, and you were also introduced to them as Jungkook's girlfriend. Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi were very interested in you. Namjoon smiled calmly, Jin jokingly asked if Jungkook forced you to be with him, and Yoongi just hummed, giving you a long look before taking a sip of his drink.

All of this made you feel a little uncomfortable. You realized that in their eyes, you were something unexpected in Jungkook's life. You realized that they all knew about Jungkook's upcoming engagement, and now you were showing up. All these stares made you feel pressured.

Throughout the evening, you moved between guests, chatting, answering greetings, and drinking champagne. Jungkook didn't stray far away, but he was acting colder than usual. He touched you less often, didn't give you the usual meaningful glances, and didn't try to create a romantic picture, except when it was absolutely necessary.

You didn't know why it bothered you. After all, you had asked him to do this.

But when your eyes met several times with journalists or Jungkook's friends who were clearly studying you, you felt an inner turmoil. You panicked that your story might not look credible.

You felt that your role as a passive companion was not enough. Taking a deep breath, you walked over to Jungkook and took his hand.

He didn't even flinch, just intertwined your fingers and squeezed them without any hesitation. You felt that strange harmony again. And when you leaned lightly against him, he simply hugged you with one arm, continuing to talk to Yoongi as if it were normal.

You felt a strange peace. It felt the same as it had at the corporate party. Sometimes everything between you two seemed so natural that you couldn't understand how it was possible if you were arguing more than talking normally. When Yoongi was distracted and Jungkook gave you a brief glance, you thought that you needed to show everyone that you were really a couple.

"Shall we go for a drink?" you suddenly suggested. Jungkook looked at you, a little surprised, but nodded.

You ordered drinks, and after the first sip, you felt the alcohol relax you a little. You turned to him, feeling playful.

"Why you don't kiss me?" You asked. Jungkook raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"You want, that I’ve to kiss you?" He asked, moving closer to you, one hand resting on the bar. You took another sip, looking over the top of your glass.

"We're a couple, aren't you supposed to kiss me?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, and the corners of his lips twitched in a slight, subtle smile. He took another slow step toward you.

"I don't want to kiss you." he said casually, smiling slyly. He tilted his head, watching you mischievously. You hummed. You pretended to be surprised.

"What do I hear?" you said. "Are you still upset that I didn't let you fuck me?" you asked, leaning toward him so that only he could hear, and leaning back with a provocative smile.

Jungkook squinted his eyes in displeasure. He grabbed the whiskey glass and took a sip. Jungkook liked your battles, but most he liked it when he won in them.

"I will fuck you anyway, but only after you begging me." Jungkook said confidently. You almost choked on your breath. Why does he think you'll beg him? He's so self-confident.

"Jeon, it's time for you to accept that I'm not your typical girl. I won't beg you even the world ends go."

Jungkook's eyes lit up with fire. You were constantly challenging him. He loves challenges. Jungkook put his glass down on the bar and pulled you close. His arm went around your waist and you let him do it because you knew that people were looking at you. Jungkook leaned down to your ear. His lips left a tangible touch on your skin.

"You will be. I know you want me too, I just don't understand why you're denying it." You wanted to say that you didn't want him, but you didn't have time. He kissed you, taking your face in his hands.

He did not kiss you lightly and gently, as he should have, because you were among people. He put his tongue in your mouth, instantly provoking a causing the butterflies in the your stomach. You put your hands on top of his. Hoping that he would let you go. But he didn't.

Your body reacted to his kiss, even though you were trying to remain indifferent on the level of your mind. You responded by intertwining your tongues, you enjoyed it because you knew that when your lips parted, you would be forced to turn on your mask of unavailability.

When the air in your lungs ran out, Jungkook pulled away. You slowly opened your eyes, returning to reality. You met his sly smile.

"Tomorrow, all the articles are yours." You said ironically. Jungkook smiled with the corner of his lips. A voice from the side made you tear your eyes away from each other.

"That's a good point. I can see you're going to love being on the front page of all the tabloids, groom."

A girl stood not far from you and you immediately realized who it was. Your heart sank. It was none other than Kang Sukhi.

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