#I was so happy when I got it bc I’ve been wanting one for years now. sigh

[crossbackpoke-check]

a game of approximation

luka dončić/miro heiskanen :: 2k :: part of There’s Only One You

It's a trick shot, really. An illusion to create space. That’s what falling in love with Miro feels like: a fadeaway, graceful exit, a swan dive backwards into nothing but a swoosh, the sound of Luka’s text sending and then him turning and running back the other way.

[hoshigray]

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!” 

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family. 

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.” 

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?” 

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?” 

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.” 

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you  — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.  

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about. 

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner. 

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.” 

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years. 

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink. 

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo. 

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow. 

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone. 

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.” 

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.” 

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.” 

“Still traumatized from that one time?” 

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.” 

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great. 

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…” 

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty. 

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?” 

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!” 

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!” 

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.” 

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs. 

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street. 

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.  

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights. 

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way. 

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.” 

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow. 

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.” 

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse. 

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. 

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!” 

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body. 

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.” 

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?” 

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.” 

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side. 

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs. 

“Will do.”He whistles. 

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point. 

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.” 

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.” 

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.” 

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?” 

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you. 

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.” 

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired. 

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[e77y]

DROPPED MY ACE RING AND IT SHATTERED. I AM HEARTBROKEN :(

[yeahxsurexokay13]

wrong guy, lando norris

summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]

been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx

y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain

Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others

y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)

view all 579 comments

user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?

user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!

user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.

iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl 😍

y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!

user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author

user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️

user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content

user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…

user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.

user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho

user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author

user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong

user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando

user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!

user24 then explain the head kiss?

user8 friendly head kisses???

user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour

user12 smells like a third wheel in here…

y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼‍♀️

user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol

user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time

user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author

user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.

user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED

user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!

y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x

user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW

maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those

landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame

y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort

user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author

user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest

pietra.pilao 😍😍

y/n.y/l 💞💞

user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)

15 August 2024

maxfewtrell ✓

Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others

maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡

👤 pietra.pilao

view all 398 comments

user1 WAIT WHAT

user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??

pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author

user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!

user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw

user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)

user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭

y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕

y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author

user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS

user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂

user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”

user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!

user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.

user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in 😭

29 August 2024

y/n.y/l

Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others

y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh

view all 930 comments

user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG

user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING

maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.

user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy

user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg

maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author

user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg

user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING

pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author

user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author

user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂

user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author

user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?

user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job

user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author

user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.

francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author

user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author

user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED

user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive

user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando

user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered

y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.

user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀

user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover

user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........

user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago

user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma

user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow

landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤

y/n.y/l ☺️☺️

y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭

1 September 2024

[mi55delulu]

movie goers

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)

wc: ~16.4k

cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🛑, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

—

if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.

so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.

you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.

three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.

finally, someone was moving in.

some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.

unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.

“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.

you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).

except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.

as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do ��� like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.

“hey, neighbor.”

you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.

the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.

“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.

what’s done is done.

you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.

but fuck, he’s hot.

—

305 was not quiet.

you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.

you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.

you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.

you love him.

you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?

back to the situation at hand.

you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.

another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.

god, you missed her.

you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.

again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.

realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“

“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.

his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.

“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”

you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.

“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.

little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.

“don’t know.” he shrugs.

“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.

he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.

“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”

“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.

he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.

—

“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.

“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.

“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.

“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.

jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”

jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.

not jungkook though, so he thinks.

“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.

jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.

weird.

what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.

so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.

but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.

alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.

—

jungkook was going to murder you.

not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.

fuckin’ hell.

it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.

“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.

you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.

“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”

he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.

“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.

“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”

“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.

you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”

you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”

jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.

should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.

—

the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.

honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.

your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.

you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.

weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.

though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.

that’s fine.

you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.

the feeling was mutual.

“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.

“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”

“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.

he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”

you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.

people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.

one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.

“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”

he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.

“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.

“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”

you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.

“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.

“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.

knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.

another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.

jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.

he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.

yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.

shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.

—

people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.

that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.

the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.

regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.

score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.

you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—

“ahem.”

you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.

“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.

even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.

no fucking way.

“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.

jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.

“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.

the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.

“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.

yeah, cause you had bought k12.

“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”

jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.

“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.

“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.

the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.

you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.

well, two can play that game.

“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.

she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”

“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”

truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.

you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.

he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.

“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.

“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”

you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.

the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.

you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.

when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.

“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.

you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”

“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.

why would he?

“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”

nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”

unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.

“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.

“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.

she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.

—

you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.

nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.

clean slate.

“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.

“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.

“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.

“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”

“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.

“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”

you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.

“look, i’ll apologize—“

“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.

there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.

—

the talk never happened.

because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.

today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.

it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.

highest of highs, lowest of lows.

it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.

you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.

you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.

when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.

little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …

you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.

“uh, 307?”

“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.

he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.

ah, shit. he feels even worse.

“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.

you scoff and look away.

“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”

“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.

“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”

“shut the fuck up.”

he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.

“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.

“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.

“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.

“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.

you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.

“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”

it was the first time you laughed all day.

—

things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.

on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.

oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.

“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.

so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.

‘drink up, 305. - your lovely, sweet, favorite neighbor 307 ♡’

to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.

‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’

needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.

so yeah, things have been good.

tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.

you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”

you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.

you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.

“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”

“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.

“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.

“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.

“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.

anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.

“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.

jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.

“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”

“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”

they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.

a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.

“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.

there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.

—

jungkook feels sick.

he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.

the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.

jungkook has a bad feeling about him.

jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.

the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.

well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.

he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“you good?” jinah whispers.

“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.

she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.

shit.

why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?

he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.

—

you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.

you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.

“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.

“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.

“what do you do for work?”

“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.

“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.

“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”

“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.

“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.

“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”

“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.

“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.

“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.

“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.

you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.

“they’re amazing, jungkook.”

his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.

“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.

“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.

“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.

“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”

—

you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.

he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.

men.

you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.

“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.

“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.

all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …

you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.

“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.

he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.

“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.

“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”

“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.

he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.

“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”

you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.

jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.

“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.

his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”

you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.

you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.

he really was perfection.

little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.

did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.

“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.

you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.

“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.

“are you cheating on me?”

“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.

realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”

he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.

when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.

“well?”

“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.

“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.

you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”

“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”

“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.

don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.

his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.

you sniffle into his chest, “why?”

he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”

his girl.

“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.

“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?

fuck it.

“i don’t know. people who love each other?”

he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.

“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“

“do you even like me?”

“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.

“do you love me?”

he’s silent.

“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.

“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.

“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”

—

the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.

you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.

you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.

guess old habits die hard.

you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.

… and no jungkook.

you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.

honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.

jungkook didn’t deserve that.

the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.

breaks meant for a reset.

he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.

you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.

he eventually obliged.

thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.

“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.

dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.

“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.

you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.

“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.

“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”

“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.

so, it was your fault?

“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”

the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.

so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.

love is patient, love is kind.

you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?

maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.

“goodbye, dohwan.”

—

jungkook hates overly loud sex.

it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.

win-win.

sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.

it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.

fuckin’ gorilla.

jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.

you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.

he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.

just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.

jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.

—

‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’

you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.

he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.

you slowly let him back in.

he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.

yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.

you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.

“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.

you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”

“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”

“hm.”

“what?” he presses.

“nothing.”

“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.

“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”

jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.

“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.

you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.

which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?

was he just like you?

his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”

you sigh.

“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”

jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.

he ruffles your hair.

“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”

—

jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.

aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.

he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.

you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.

you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.

that just might be his demise.

even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.

like dog, like owner.

“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

bam whines and follows you to the door.

“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.

“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.

“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.

“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.

“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”

bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.

jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.

you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”

he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.

“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”

“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”

you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.

so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.

—

you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.

it’s not always about being in isolation though.

it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.

with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.

wrong person, wrong time.

because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.

jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.

yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?

right person, wrong time, you suppose.

bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.

doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.

“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.

“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.

he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”

he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”

your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.

“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.

“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.

he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.

“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.

“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”

before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.

—

jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.

“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.

“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.

he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.

“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”

“i don’t get—wait, what?”

“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”

has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.

“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”

and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.

it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.

jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.

—

home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.

bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.

“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.

“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”

he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.

“bad.”

“oh? wanna talk about it?”

“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.

“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.

“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.

“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.

when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

“sorry—“

“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.

“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.

“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”

“good, as she should.”

jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”

you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.

“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.

“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.

“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.

“just hear me out, okay?”

you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.

“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”

you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.

you owe him the truth at least.

“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”

jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.

“please don’t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“

you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.

“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”

he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.

“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”

“huh? no, you’re—“

“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”

he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.

right person, wrong time.

“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”

“friends,” you agree.

it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.

“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”

“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”

“that shit was the worst to get off.”

“funny as hell though.”

“yeah, for you.”

everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.

—

“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.

“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.

you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.

“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”

“yeah, but—“

“you’re just scared. i know you.”

“nayeon …”

“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”

“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.

“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”

you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.

“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.

everything happens for a reason.

“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.

“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”

“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”

“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”

“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”

the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.

you want more.

you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.

you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.

—

you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.

it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.

you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.

he looks like home … no, he feels like home.

fuck.

you really are torturing yourself.

when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.

so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.

“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.

“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.

he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.

as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.

after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.

“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.

“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.

“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”

“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”

“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”

“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”

“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.

you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.

“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.

“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.

you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.

when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.

jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.

you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.

when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.

“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.

“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”

your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.

“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.

“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.

of course he wants more with you.

“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.

“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.

“okay.”

—

fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.

he feels the same with you.

this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.

part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.

so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.

“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.

if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.

slow and steady. you are both fine with that.

“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.

“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.

—

it’s going terribly.

traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.

okay, fine. to the movies it is.

except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.

when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.

“bam, no!”

all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?

bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.

“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”

“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.

“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.

you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.

hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.

“can i come in, kook?”

a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”

jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.

you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.

he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.

“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.

“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”

“all of it.”

“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.

you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.

“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.

“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.

he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”

he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”

“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.

“okay, okay … i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.

“hm?”

“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.

jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”

you felt fucking special.

so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.

he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.

“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.

he’s also your boyfriend now.

you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.

you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.

“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”

jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.

his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.

he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.

“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”

you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”

“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”

“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.

“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.

jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.

“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.

his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.

“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.

if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.

you’re still so fucking perfect.

he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.

“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.

“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.

yes, he’s yours.

you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.

“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”

you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”

he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.

jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.

your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.

“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”

jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.

he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.

“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.

your heart swells at his words.

there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.

it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.

and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.

you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.

“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?

he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.

he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.

“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.

tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.

“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.

“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.

“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.

he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.

he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.

“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.

never, he thinks.

jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.

“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.

you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not mindful, quiet, or kind with how he entered into your life.

though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.

love is patient, love is kind.

you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.

fin.

—

a/n: tadaaaaaa. what’d you think? 😜

[7ndipity]

Limbo

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have been friends for over a year, but when Yoongi realizes that his feelings for you might be something more, he pulls away, fearing the pains of the past will repeat themselves. You just want to give him the love he deserves; can he accept it, or will he hide away from you?

Word Count: 3.5k(whoops lol)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, angst, mutual pining, mentions of drinking, swearing, mentions of bad/toxic past relationships, eventual smut at the end, handjob, subby Yoongi bc I said so, not proofread

A/N: I got several requests while I was gone wanting some angst to fluff/smut with Yoongi, so I kinda combined them all into this mess hehe. It def got away from me, but I hope you'll all enjoy it!

Masterlist

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It’s strange how little things that seem almost insignificant at first glance, take on so much more meaning to us than we ever expect them to. Songs on the radio, a specific perfume or food, random little trinkets that can be found in almost any gift shop. Like the keychain that Yoongi fiddled with absentmindedly as he rode the elevator up to his friend Hee-jun’s apartment.

The tiny bear figure was nothing particularly remarkable on its own, but it had come to hold a certain sense of peace for Yoongi whenever he held onto it, like his own little good luck charm, something to help keep him centered when he was feeling overwhelmed, much like now as he stepped into his friends crowded apartment.

He quickly found his usual place, tucked safely into the corner of the sofa, steering clear of the noise and chaos of the main group as they talked and drank.

His friend was always encouraging him to come over for his weekend hangouts, insisting to Yoongi that all the energy and music would help clear his head and give him inspiration for work. Yoongi wasn’t particularly in the mood for this much noise and stimuli though. He’d spent the better part of the past week holed up in his studio working several new songs, though his results had been underwhelming by his standards. He was tired and had half a mind to just slip back out the door and go home without saying anything.

His mood however perked up instantly as he caught sight of a familiar figure slipping through the front door, his eyes following you as you grabbed a drink and glanced about the room, your face breaking into a huge grin as you spotted him watching you.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming this week?” You asked, taking the empty seat next to him. “What happened to “I’m too busy being a musical genius” or whatever?”

“I was persuaded otherwise.” He replied dryly, ignoring your growing amused grin.

“I’m glad.” You said.

“Didn’t say it was you, I’m just here to get back the whiskey that Hee-Jun owes me, one glass at a time.” He responded, tipping back the last of his drink as he spoke, making you laugh.

“Whatever you say, bro.” You relented.

“Yah! I’ve told you not to call me bro.” He complained.

The two of you fell into your usual routine of conversation and bickering, much the same as every other night you had spent together since you’d first met over a year ago, when Hee-jun had invited you to a group dinner and introduced you to everyone.

Yoongi had found himself instantly charmed by you, your friendly but sarcastic attitude matching his perfectly. He had spent the majority of that first night talking eagerly with you, much to the surprise of the others, not used to seeing this side of Yoongi.

Your friendship had quickly grown after that. He had found himself completely drawn in by you, finding it remarkably easy to talk with you and wanting to learn every little thing about you. Yoongi’s friends loved to tease him about his being whipped for you, pointing out things like how he always claimed that he was too busy to hang out with them, but he somehow always managed to make time for you, but he didn’t pay them much mind. He was happy around you, really truly happy. He felt safe and comfortable with you, which was something that didn’t come very easy for Yoongi.

There were times though, usually on late nights when you were still hanging out long after one of you should’ve gone home, when he would wonder if there was some truth to his friend’s jokes, feeling a faint but insistent twinge in his chest, as if something were struggling for freedom, but he quelled it down, passing it off as just a passing thought, a flicker of something that didn’t really mean anything… Right?

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of drinks and talking to you and his friends over the too loud music until late. He was in the middle of a discussion with one of the members when he felt a sudden weight against his shoulder.

Glancing down, he was met with your sleeping figure, your face nuzzled against the material of his jacket, 

All at once, that twisting feeling in his chest had returned, far more pronounced and forceful than usual, his heart stuttering like the moments before the drop on a rollercoaster. His mind went blank as he stared down at you, a familiar warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his system.

Fuck, he loved you.

He loved you, with your dumb jokes and peach flavored lip balm, your terrible playlists and your quiet little hums when you're nervous, and the way you hid behind your hands when you laughed. He loved every little thing about you and he suddenly can’t breathe as he stared down at your sleeping form, taking in how perfectly you fit against his side. He stayed there for a while, not quite sure what to do now.

“Y/n?” He whispered.

“Mhm.” You stirred, shifting closer, but not fully surfacing from sleep.

He was quiet for a second, mind whirring as he tried to decide what action he should take.

He could just tell you, nudge you again gently till you woke properly, blinking up at him all drowsy and confused and utterly adorable.

“I think… I love you.” The words were simple enough in theory, mumbled out as his dark eyes bore into your own, begging for this to not be a mistake.

For a moment you didn’t move, staring as if unsure of what you’d heard, before suddenly pushing yourself up, seeking out his lips.

He wrapped his arms around you, savoring the taste of you as he pulled you closer, letting out a soft groan as your hands found their way into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp and raising goosebumps over his whole body-

The sound of glass breaking in the kitchen behind the two of you shattered the moment, ripping Yoongi roughly from his daydream.

“Yah, you see?! This is why I don’t let you help!” Jin scolded loudly.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Joon snapped back, equally loud.

“How was that not-?!”

The chaos from the kitchen had pulled you from sleep, sitting up quickly and blinking around in confusion and concern.

“What happened?” You asked groggily, shaking off the last hints of sleep.

“It’s just the guys being dumb-asses, don’t worry.” He assured you, but he shifted away subtly, a strange sense of relief flooding his system.

Mumbling out a faint excuse, he ducked down the hall to the bathroom, catching sight of his expression in the mirror as he splashed some water on his face in an attempt to clear his head. 

His cheeks were flushed a deep rosy hue, his eyes slightly too big, pupils blown wide.

What the fuck was wrong with him?! He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t say those things to you. He’d fallen down that hole before, letting his feelings get the better of him confessing, only to be viciously rejected. Or worse yet, having his feelings falsely returned, and ending up with his heart twisted into something he didn’t even recognize for the other person's benefit and pleasure, leaving him to pick up the warped pieces when they had used him up.

He couldn’t let that happen with you, he couldn’t risk ruining one of the best friendships he’s had in years over some stupid infatuation.

Taking care not to be noticed, he silently slipped out the door and made his way home, sending a half-assed text to you and his other friends about not feeling well before turning his phone off and flopping onto his bed.

He would fix this, he promised to himself, he just needed to give his little crush some time to run its course and get out of his system, like a cold or the flu. In the meantime, he decided it would be best to put some space between the two of you, try and wean himself off the dependency that he had developed with you. It wasn’t good for him to ‘need’ someone as much as he did you, it would only lead to regret if he wasn’t careful.

He could do this, he tried to convince himself. He could correct these feelings and go back to how your friendship was before.

He had to.

For the next few weeks, he did his best to avoid you without being too obvious, claiming things like busy schedules as why he was suddenly never around.

He tried to convince himself that this was necessary and the better of two options, but the full truth was that he was miserable.

He hadn’t realized just how much you had been seeped into his day to day life until he tried to go without you. There were no silly texts convos to keep his spirits up during the day, his evenings dull and quiet, no warm laughter or teasing jokes to pull a smile out of him, no encouraging touches on his hand when he was feeling frustrated or random little backhugs that brought more peace and comfort than he ever thought was possible.

He knew he could easily remedy the situation and just face his feelings and talk to you, but the ghosts of his past kept creeping up on him, whispering in his ear that he would ruin everything if he dared open himself like that again. 

His heart argued however with him constantly in your defence. This time it could be different, you were so different from all those people in his past, so kind and warm and patient.

He knew deep down that you would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, but his fear left him in a constant state of limbo, frustrated with himself and confused about how to move forward.

He decided to take Holly on a long walk to try and help clear his head, fidgeting with the tiny bear charm on his keyring in his pocket as he often did when he was frustrated.

Even this made his thoughts circle back to you. You’d given it to him not long after you’d become friends, having taken him out for dinner one evening when he had been having a tough week. You’d wandered around the city without any real plans, eating snacks from street vendors, talking and goofing around till he felt his chest finally begin to lighten. You’d won the keychain charm in a random gatcha capsule machine and had insisted that it resembled him, dropping it in his hand and saying that he should keep it as a good luck charm.

He’d humored you somewhat reluctantly at first, but he’d found himself toying with the charm whenever he was anxious or uneasy, a sense of comfort and certainty creeping through him whenever he held onto it, your words echoing through his mind.

Apparently the universe was as fed up with Yoongi’s bullshit as he was, deciding that since he wouldn’t make a decision on his own, it would give him a push in the form of you on his doorstep as he returned home with Holly from their walk.

The tiny dog rushed to greet you, having missed your presence almost as much as his owner had the past few weeks, excitedly bouncing around your feet as you tried to pet him.

Hi buddy.” You giggled before glancing up to meet Yoongi’s eye. “Hey Yoongs.”

“H-hey.” He swallowed nervously. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hi.” You said, still playing with Holly.

He watched the two of you, a tiny smile making its way across his face as he took in the way your expression lit up as you cooed over the little poodle, your smile warming him more than the lingering hints of summer in the air, instantly weaving your way back into his heart.

“You wanna come in?” The words had a slight wobble as they left his mouth, as if he was asking himself more than you.

You nodded. “I’d like that.”

He let the three of you into the house, debating awkwardly on what he should do before settling next you on the sofa.

It was quiet for a moment, neither of you quite knowing where to start.

“So, how’s the new album going?” You offered.

The two of you talked for a while, quickly falling back into your usual routine, talking about everything from work to friends to the new project you’d been working on, but there was clearly an unspoken ‘something’ hanging in the air between you, Yoongi gradually losing himself in just listening and watching you, the way your eyes flashed as you spoke, the way you talked through your hands. 

It was several minutes before you noticed the way he was staring at you, his eyes distant, an almost dreamy glaze over them.

“What?” You asked.

He shrugged.

“You just look happy.” He replied.

“I am happy.” You confirmed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

Your words sent a quiet thrill through him, warm and hopeful, but your next words also triggered a twinge of guilt.

“I’ve missed this, you, the past few weeks.” You admitted, playing with your hands on your lap. “I was honestly starting to think you were avoiding me.” You laughed nervously, trying to lighten the weight behind your words.

He was silent for a moment, the decision that he’d been avoiding hanging in the air again.

“Actually… I kinda was.” He admitted. “No, I know I was.” 

Your expression fell. “Why? Did I do something-?”

“No no, it wasn’t anything you did.” He quickly assured you. “It was-, it was a ‘me thing’ I needed to figure out.”

“What kind of thing?” You asked.

He hesitated.

Fuck it.

“The fact that I haven’t been honest with myself, or you, about a lot of things, like the fact that I like you… as more than a friend.”

Your mouth fell open at his admission, but Yoongi pressed on, fearing that if he stopped now, he might never get it out.

He laid everything out, his feelings for you and his fears and scars from the past and why he pulled away from you, his gaze never straying from the ground in front of him as he spoke.

“Through all of this, I realized a couple things.” He said. 

You waited for him to continue.

 “I could live without you, but I would fucking hate it.” He finally glanced up at you, his eyes unusually vulnerable. 

“I hated not seeing you, hated not hearing your laugh, not smelling your perfume of your stupid coffee order in my car after driving you to work. I hated it, but it was all my own fault, because I was too much of a coward to admit that I liked you more than I thought was possible, more than I should. “

“Yoongi-” You tried. but he kept going.

“And you can tell me to fuck off and that you don’t feel the same, and I’ll gladly leave you alone, or go back to being just friends, but I just wanted-”

“Yoongi, shut up.” You said, not harshly, but firmly enough to snap his mouth closed instantly. 

His heart pounded loudly in his chest, the silence stretching between you deafening as he waited for you to speak

“You really think you’re the only one who’s been feeling like this? Who’s been afraid?” You asked quietly, your voice trembling with emotion. “You think I haven’t thought about if we?... If I told you…” You took an unsteady breath, Yoongi staring at you in disbelief. “Why did you say something before-?

“I was afraid,” He admitted, feeling tears beginning to prick at his eyes. “Afraid that you wouldn’t want this. Or worse, that you would.”

Your eyes saddened as you reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek. “Why would that be worse?”

“Because I don’t wanna break this, I don’t wanna lose you” He whispered, his voice cracking. “Not when you mean so much to me.”

Suddenly, the distance between you felt unbearable, the space filled with the weight of thousands of unspoken feelings.

Before he could think, you closed the gap, leaning so close you could feel each other's shaky breaths, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“Say it,” You whispered, the words barely audible. “I won’t hurt you… just say it.”

For a moment, you thought he might retreat, that he might hide behind the walls he’d built around himself again. But then his gaze softened, a quiet resolve settling into his chest.

“I love you,” He breathed, the words falling from his lips easily, soft and unguarded. “I love you so fucking much.”

He leaned in, letting his forehead rest against yours, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. His touch was gentle, reverent, as if you might disappear if he held on too tightly. 

But you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you’d just been offered the world in his hands.

You couldn’t find your words. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing against his in a way that felt both brand new and familiar all at once, like finally coming home.

The world around you melted away, his arms wrapped around you tightly, shielding you from everything that could ever dare try to distract from this moment, pulling you close, feeling how perfectly you pressed against him.

His lips were soft and warm on yours, his touch achingly tender, every brush of his fingers against your skin like a spark of electricity.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, his eyes stayed scrunched closed, as if trying to savor every ounce of this feeling.

His fingers traced gentle paths up and down your arms to your shoulders, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t know-,” He whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability and need, drawing away slightly. “Fuck, I want so much, but I don’t know if we should-”

“Don’t hide away from me again, please.” You begged, following him to keep close, your lips brushing against his as you spoke, sending shivers rippling through him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but don’t be don’t hide. Show me what you need. Please.”

At your words, Yoongi felt the last remnants of his fear crumble away, replaced only by a deep craving and need for you. 

Crushing his lips to yours again, he gave himself over to the kiss fully, gripping your waist and pulling you to straddle him properly.

His lips trailed down down your jaw to your neck, sucking marks on the sensitive skin as he went and causing you to writhe and squirm in his hold, grinding down against the growing bulge in his pants.

He let out a pained groan. 

“Touch me, god please, touch me.” He begged into your neck, bucking up into you desperately.

There was a blur of fumbling with buttons and zippers, your shirt thrown away somewhere behind the sofa, leaving your heaving chest bare for him to paw amd suck at hungrily.

You snaked a hand between you to stroke his aching length through his boxers, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he bucked up into your touch, moaning into your skin.

“Please.” He begged, for what he didn’t even fully know.

You shifted back just enough to free him from the confines of his underwear, his cock springing up against his abdomen, the tip red and leaking, desperate for any sort of relief.

As he watched through glazed-over eyes, you let your spit drip down onto his cock for lubrication, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly to spread it over him, reveling in the way he twitched and whined under your touch.

“Fuck, Y/n, m-more please.” He moaned, his hips bucking up to chase your hand.

You sped up your movements, twisting your wrist just right as he clung to you, your foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air. The whole thing almost felt more intimate than if he were actually inside you.

”I-, fuck, I’m gonna-” He panted, pulsing in your grip.

“Let go baby, I got you.” 

He came with a shuddering groan, curling into you as he painted your hand with streaks of white that dribbled back down onto his twitching length, making him shiver with oversensitivity.

“Fuck, Y/n, that was, I-” He struggled to catch his breath, leaning against you heavily.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you too.” You kissed his lips lightly, moving to detangle yourself from him so you could clean the two of you up, when he caught you by the waist, pulling you back down on the sofa, pinning you under him, his eyes dark as they stared into yours.

“Where do you think you’re going, darling? We’re just getting started.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[darnell-la]

i’m actually so in love with your writing! Could i request Oldman!Logan x married reader having sex for the first time in forever bc he’s getting sick and age is showing in him and he isn’t healing but he wants to prove he can still keep up

note: Logan and his little emotional ass…

———

“Logan, what are you doing here? What happened!?” Y/n asked, worried after seeing his state. The man had bullet holes in him. He was bleeding and looked like he was close to passing out.

“Need you, bub,” Logan said, meaning it in so many different ways, but y/n only thought of one as she pulled him into her shared house.

Y/n dragged the man to her shared room and pulled him to the bathroom. “The fuck, Logan — I thought you were done with that shit,” y/n felt horrible seeing him like this.

He went down after she broke up with him because of his unemotional ways. He didn’t show emotion when she left the mansion, but people noticed the change in his mood.

Logan was always an asshole, but he had a soft spot for sweet people. After y/n left, he felt no need to be that man anymore.

“Just a little fight. Nothin’ serious, princess,” Logan said as y/n sat him on the toilet. “Logan, not right now, please,” Y/n said before she went into her closet to find things to help him.

Logan was confused for a second, wondering why she didn’t like the nickname until he remembered. He took a look at her hand and noticed the ring he prayed wasn’t real.

After hearing the news of her marriage, he couldn’t take it. He tried reaching out to her, but she was a ghost.

After finally finding her, he noticed how happy she looked. That was decades ago, and since then, he’s just kept his distance. Still watching her, but never approaching.

“You’re still with him, huh?” Logan asked, sounding heartbroken all over again. “Yes, I am, and he gets home tomorrow night, so I need you out of here quick,” y/n said, aching the man.

“Can’t stay until he gets here? Maybe meet the man or something?” Logan asked, making y/n sigh loudly as she finally found what she needed. “No, Logan — Me and you haven’t talked in years, so there’s no need,”

“We haven’t talked because of you,” the man said in a low voice. “Yeah, because-“ y/n cut herself off as she noticed her tone getting higher. She shouldn’t be upset anymore. They’re done.

“Just- Let’s get you cleaned up,” y/n walked back over to Logan. The two stayed quiet as she took his shirt off to see what she had to work with. “Fuckin’ hell, Logan,” y/n shooter her head.

Even though this wasn’t the man’s fault, he looked down with a sad look, disappointed that he got worse over the years, and never better for her to see and maybe want him back.

“He treats you good?” Logan asked, trying to get rid of the silence. It’s been too many years of silence. “Alright,” y/n said, answering drily because she felt embarrassed about her life.

“Why just alright? I see he buys you stuff- On social media — I-I have you on social media,” Logan saved himself after y/n gave him a confused look. Y/n sighed with a nod, not wanting to tell him or anyone why he gave her those gifts.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Logan asked with a slightly serious face after noticing her body language. After all these years, Logan could tell when something was wrong.

“Please, just- Let’s get this done, okay?” Y/n said before using a pair of tweezers to pull one of the bullets out. “Fuck! Fuck- wait,” Logan softly grabbed the girl's wrists as he stood up. “I’ve got this part,”

Logan slowly walked over to the bathroom sink to lean on it, resting and taking deep breaths for what he was about to do.

Y/n was confused until the man began pushing out bullets with low groans, trying to hide the pain he was in.

Y/n placed a hand on his back, comforting him so he would mentally feel better about this all. She couldn’t look at him like this.

“Just a few stitches, okay?” Y/n rubbed the man’s back after he got all of the bullets out. “No, it’ll heal itself. Just need it cleaned,” the man said before sitting back down on the toilet, already missing her back touched.

y/n wanted to ask why he came here if he wouldn't help him stitch up, but she kept her mouth closed and didn't ask. He finally had a small reason to show up and be let in her house.

“Lo — Logan, you need it,” y/n slipped up by calling him by the nickname she gave the man. Logan looked up at the woman, eyes lighting up at her words, but face expression tired.

He was tired of life. He was tired of living without y/n. He was tired of being distant from y/n. He was tired of going home and having an empty bed while she came home to whoever the man was she married.

“I need you,” Logan said, making y/n scoff, feeling tears fill her eyes in an instant. “Logan, if you’re not gonna let me help you, then you have to leave,” she hated saying.

“C’mon, baby — Just take me back,” Logan on off of the toilet and stepped towards her. Y/n instantly turned around, not wanting to look at him. She can’t. She’s married now.

“C’mere,” Logan said softly as he hugged y/n from the back, leaning down to sniff her neck. “You still smell good,” he said under his breath as his hands rubbed her waist and stomach.

“Logan, I can’t,” y/n said, not pushing him off, but hoping he’d pull back. She couldn’t bring herself to push his old but missing scent away.

“C’mon, baby — If you couldn’t, then you would’ve pushed him off a while ago,” he said, and he was right. That’s when y/n turned around and placed her hands on his chest, pushing, but he grabbed them, keeping her hands on him.

“I’m sorry, y/n — I wasn’t good back then, but I am now. I’ll do anything to get you back. To get all of those years without you, back,�� Logan’s hands softly grabbed her cheeks.

“I-I can’t, Logan — I have a husband, and he- He treats me right,” y/n lied, and he knew it instantly. All the years away from his girl, he still knew when she was lying and not doing well. Her slight body language change does not lie.

“You don’t have to lie to me, princess. If he doesn’t treat you right, I won’t laugh, judge or make you feel like shit,” Logan said as tears slipped past her eyelids.

“Hey, hey — Don’t cry, okay? This is my fault. You’re with him because I wasn’t man enough to deal with love. I was scared, and I let us get together knowing I should’ve ghosted you. I should’ve fuckin’ stopped it right then, but I didn’t because I love you, y/n,”

“I’m so stupid,” y/n buried her face in the man’s chest as she cried. Logan’s own tears slipped past his eyelids, hearing y/n cry like this after all of these years.

If only he had been a better man, a better boyfriend, she wouldn’t be like this. What has she been going through, through all these years? Anything negative was his fault. All of it.

“Baby, no, you’re not. I am. If I just did better, you’d be with me. We’d both be happier,” Logan pulled y/n’s face back as he wiped her tears. “Need you to stitch me up like you wanted. Take care of me, then I’ll take care of you. Till the day I die,”

Y/n isn’t invincible, but she does take a bit longer to die off. She’s nothing like Logan though, so getting together at this time, especially since his regenerating powers aren’t working well anymore, is perfect.

“Mhmkay,” y/n said low, feeling her heart grow for the man again. “Please stop crying, baby. Gonna make me feel bad,” Logan playfully pouted as he lifted her chin. “Good,” she giggled low.

“So good, baby. Always so fuckin’ good, baby,” Logan whispered in the girl's ear after slipping past her folds, filling her up until he had no more to give. She took him so well. Like they have not stopped being together.

“Oh my god, Logan,” y/n cried as she scratched his back, drawing a little blood. He almost forgot how strong she was. He never really paid attention. She was always his sweet little girl.

He cursed himself for being an asshole towards her. All he had to do was tell her when he felt down. All he had to do was ask for help. All he had to do was accept that it’s okay to not be okay. She would’ve been happy to help.

“Gonna keep you, baby. Gonna take you from your sad excuse of a husband,” Logan snapped his hips, shaking at the feeling of being someone he hadn’t been in for years. Since her, he hasn’t been with anyone. Not one soul.

“Ima treat you better, baby. Gonna show him how to be a man,” Logan didn’t know how the man was. He knew nothing about him, only the fake news he puts out on social media, but by the way, y/n was clenching around him and not calling her husband to get Logan out of their home, he knew the man was a dick.

“You’re gonna tell me everything about him, y/n. Don’t miss one detail. Gonna show him what happens when he makes my girl cry at the thought of him,”

Logan’s hands rubbed y/n’s cheek, watching her jaw go slack as his hips bucked up into his, chasing after her orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Forgot about that rich prick. Knew he wasn’t no good,” Logan talked like he knew the man personally. Even if he wasn’t a bad person, Logan didn’t care. Y/n was his, and his only.

“Fuckin’ hell — Still squeezin’ me tight like back in the day, when you cum,” Logan reminded the woman as she came all over his cock. “So pretty when you did it too. Now you look better because we’re finally officially,”

Y/n was confused at first until he spoke. “You’re my wife. And I’m your husband. You’ve always been mine, and I’ll show you that. Gonna show you all the years you’ve missed out on me, baby,”

Logan smashed his lips onto y/n’s, hungrily kissing her as he pounded, making sure to fuck her into the mattress. He was old, and his body ached, but the adrenaline was still there. He wanted to fuck her for hours. Mark her for hours. He wanted to do everything with her for hours until her shitty husband came back to the sight of her taking his cock better than she could ever take her husbands.

“That’s it, baby — Gonna fill this little girl up like I should’ve done years ago. Trap you with me and never let you go,” Logan’s hands found hers and locked. He pinned them beside her head and leaned into her neck, sucking as he groan.

The man couldn’t help himself, sniffing and growling into the girl's neck as he spilled into her, hard. Cumming so deep, she swore she felt it swirl in her stomach.

“F-Fuck,” y/n cried low, feeling complete. The feeling of him in her, marking her, and telling her she was his, made her heart grow. Fuck her husband. She couldn’t wait until he came home to the sight of Logan claiming her.

[sanguineterrain]

professor pretty | charles xavier

Summary: You duck into a pub to escape a creep. Just when you've lost hope that you'll get to go home at all, a pretty-faced professor comes to your rescue.

Pairing: young!Charles Xavier x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings/tags: creepy guy intimidating reader, charles to the rescue, flirting, drinking, professor!reader, i tried to make it accurate to an english university and make him English but if there's any mistakes feel free to lmk.

this is a modern au in that movie canon is the same but they have cellphones here bc it's easier lol

the divider

There’s a man at the back of the pub, in a scary leather jacket and combat boots, and he won’t stop staring at you. 

Instinct tells you that he’s not going to let you leave either. 

You noticed him after you left the school. That’s what first pushed you into this pub across from the university. Now you’re parked on a stool. You really want to go home, but instead you’re sticking close to the frazzled barman who’s managing about thirty first years who are just jazzed about the new school year. 

You’ve ordered a pint, even though you’re not really a beer drinker, but when in Rome and all that. You’ve had about two sips. 

You sneak a look over your shoulder. The man is still there. Fuck.

“Could I have another pint, please? Cheers.” A man leans against the bar top, hand running through his light brown hair as if on instinct. You’ve seen him once this week, at the university, when you were trying to get your own classroom set up for the term. 

You don’t know his name or what he teaches, but you do know that he likes the poofy-haired, off-duty secretary in the red dress that came in about an hour earlier. And she seemed to like him back. You’re surprised he’s still here.

You rest your chin in your hand, watching detachedly as he orders. He’s got a nice smile and even nicer manners. Posh. Probably a jerk. 

“Hello.”

You look up. Professor Pretty Boy is standing closer to you, blue eyes warm. His smile fades as you look at him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, brows knitting in concern.

You sigh. “Yeah, great.”

The last thing you need is another guy screwing up your night. Even if this one is considerably better looking.

He rests his elbow against the bar top and pushes his finger against his temple. 

“Is someone bothering you?” he asks after a moment.

Your eyes widen. “How did you–?”

“I recognize the look. Fella in the corner, yeah?”

His words make you tense. You sneak a look back. The man is still there, though he’s now on the phone. 

“I think he’s going to follow me home if I try to leave,” you whisper. 

His eyes soften in concern. You watch him watch you. Then he seems to make a decision.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here, alright?”

He heads straight for the creep. You watch, slack-jawed, as your unsuspecting knight in a crisp, white button-up says a couple words to the man. Then they go outside. 

You turn around, guilt washing over you. What if he gets hurt?

Well, so what, says another part of you, it’s not like you told him to confront the guy.

But your knight returns in thirty seconds, every hair in place. He gracefully slides onto the stool next to you and takes a gulp of beer. Foam gathers on his upper lip. You can’t help your disbelieving smile.

“You’ve got…” You gesture to your mouth.

“Ah.” He takes a napkin and wipes his mouth, avoiding your gaze. Is he flustered? 

“There’s just no dignified way to drink a pint, I’ve learned,” he says, clearing his throat. He smiles at you, less rakish and more bashful. 

“How did you do that?” you ask. “He must’ve been there for half an hour.”

“Hm? Ah, well, I politely explained that that sort of behavior isn’t tolerated here, and that I was very happy to call the police.”

Your brows rise. “Wow. He seemed determined to stay.”

“I can be very persuasive, I’ve been told. Oh! How rude of me.” He sticks out his hand. “My name is Charles. Charles Xavier.”

You shake his hand. It’s cool and soft. You tell him your name. He repeats it softly.

“It’s very nice to meet you, though I wish we’d met through better circumstances,” Charles says.

You nod. “Me too. But thank you, seriously.”

“No thanks necessary. Men should let others live in peace.”

“Words of the century,” you say, raising your glass.

“Cheers,” Charles says, clinking your glasses together. 

You both take a drink. You’re considerably more relaxed. And no, you’re not really Professor Xavier’s type, but you like the company. At least for tonight. 

“So, are you visiting?” he asks. “Pardon my saying, but you don’t sound…”

“Like you?” You playfully raise an eyebrow.

His eyes widen. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve only been here a week, actually. I took a teaching position at the university.”

“You don’t say! I teach here too. What are you teaching? Wait, no, let me guess…”

Charles squints in concentration, putting his hand to his forehead. “Hmm… ah! Women’s literature?”

You shake your head. “You’re on a roll, seriously. I’m in awe.”

Charles waves you off. “You’re too kind. I’m just perceptive.”

And there’s a pinch of something in your gut, something that tells you that it’s more than good perception. But you don’t detect any malice in Charles. In fact, you feel nothing but kindness and genuine interest emanating from his gaze. 

“Well, let’s see if you’ll go two for two. What author am I teaching first?”

Charles smiles at you knowingly, and you’re sure he’s about to say it.

“Oh, I haven’t a clue. Hmm… Ms. Austen?”

You laugh. “No, I’m very sure that the students at Pembroke have gotten their fill of Austen in their A-levels. Do you give up?”

He grins. “Yes, I do. Tell me all about it, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for a quitter, Charles.”

“I know when I’m beat,” he says softly, and the tips of his fingers touch yours. 

To your surprise, you don’t pull away, even though getting involved with a professor your first week would be bad.

But there’s something magnetic about him.

“I was thinking I’d teach The Haunting of Hill House.”

Charles raises his brows. “Horror? My, my. Quite a first impression. I like it.”

“Got to make it memorable, don’t I?”

“I don’t think you’ll have trouble with that,” he says. Your face warms under his incessant charm. “You’ll get on fine here. I’ve been teaching for a few years. My sister keeps pushing me to find a place in America, but I have a hard time letting go of the familiar.”

“I bet you’re popular here,” you say, and Charles immediately catches onto your meaning.

“Heh, well…” Charles purses his lips mischievously. “Ahem. I try to make the course engaging, especially since I teach graduate courses. But I’m a homebody, truly. It’s my sister who pulls me out here, and one thing leads to another, and I get to meet lovely new lecturers with impeccable literary taste.”

You turn and focus on your all but abandoned beer, tracing shapes into the condensation and hoping you’ll get some reserve back.

“Does this charming routine work on everyone?” 

Charles laughs. “Actually, my routine is something like, um…” 

He leans in, half-lidded. “I have all the time in the world for a darling with the TCHH gene. You would call it curly hair, I call it a mutation. A most alluring mutation, mind you—you see, mutations are what took us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form of reproductive life on the planet. And being that it’s my field of study, and I take my studies very seriously, I would love to explore what other genetic wonders you’ve been gifted with.”

It’s quiet for several moments. Then you begin to giggle. Charles schools his expression, feigning indignance. 

“And what’s so funny?”

“You’re not serious,” you say. “Does that really work?”

“I don’t know why you’re laughing—it has a nine out of ten success rate,” Charles says, sticking his nose up. “People like genetic facts.”

“I think they like your pretty face more than the facts, Professor.”

You wince as you realize what you’ve said. Charles pounces immediately.

“Apologies, I can’t hear you very well in this loud pub… did you say my face is pretty?”

“Oh, put a sock in it,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

That draws a full laugh from him, face scrunching in delight. You smile back, shaking your head.

You check your phone out of habit, feeling like it’s been a long time and… holy hell! 11:46. You curse, scraping your stool back.

“Dammit, dammit. I’ve got a lecture tomorrow morning! I’m so sorry, Charles, I have to go.”

You hadn’t meant to stay so long, but the stranger had frightened you, and then you’d met Charles, and…

But you stop short upon seeing the door because of the terrifying thought of the stranger waiting outside for you.

Charles must sense your hesitance. “I can drive you home.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m only a ten minute walk away,” you say, but it’s weak.

He puts a hand on your back. The touch is fleeting, but he’s warm through your shirt. 

“Then I’ll walk with you. I love walking. And the rain will come soon—got to take advantage of clear nights.”

You look at him. He already has his coat. You suddenly remember the woman he’d followed to the back table. 

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have a…”

“She wasn’t interested,” Charles says, back to his perceptive ways. His gaze is fond. “I’d rather walk with you, anyway.”

“You’ve already charmed me, Charles,” you say as he walks you out of the pub.

“No charm,” he says simply, holding the door for you. “Just being honest, darling.”

You feel infinitely better on the way home. Charles keeps your spirits high, providing you with endless advice and assurances for your new job. 

You go up the steps, taking out your key to the flat. 

“Look, um…” 

You stop and turn. Charles follows you up. He starts to touch your arm, then stops. He straightens his tie instead.

“If you see that man again, or someone like him. Someone who doesn’t look right. Promise you’ll tell me, alright? You can reach me on my mobile any time.”

He hands you a card. Charles Xavier, Mutant Expert. Huh.

You look at him, fear returning. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, he won’t bother you. But if… I don’t know. Never mind. No, I’m worrying you. I’m just making you paranoid. Forget that.”

You shrug. “You’re keeping me safe. I like that.”

Charles chews the inside of his lip for a second. Then he leans in and kisses your cheek. You inhale sharply. 

His thumb lingers on your jaw before he pulls away completely.

“Good night,” he says, pupils dilated in the dim light. 

“Good night, Charles. Thank you.”

“Any time. And if you just want to go for a pint, that number isn’t just for emergencies.” 

“Are you that sure of yourself?” you ask, hand on your hip.

“No.” He smirks. “I just happen to be very perceptive.”

[chocum]

yea tattoo artist choso but .. what abt tattoo artist geto

congrats on 1k btw!

eee thank youuuu 🙈🙈 i’m souuurrr happy you requested geto bc i’ve been wanting to write abt other characters. AND THISS got out of hand lollll ( 1.5k ) idk what came over me i just word vomited all over my phone… & it’s unedited

— tattooartist!geto x reader // mentions of smoking, m masterbation, fleshlight, cum eating, kinda pervy geto idk he tells reader to take her shirt off when she doesn’t need to so, nipple play, v in p, mentions of overstim, creampiee

suguru geto is one of the most, if not the most popular tattoo artists in your area— hell, probably even farther than that. just to book an appointment, there’s a waitlist not including the months and months he’s already booked for. so when you finally get that confirmation email after waiting for what felt like years, you physically jump up, rushing to get ready and go to the parlor

“i don’t have anyone today under that name, sorry”

suguru pushes a strand of silk black hair behind his pierced ears, the dragon tattoo on his hand moving as he does so almost like it’s taunting you.

“what? i got an email today i just-” your hand reaches into your purse slacked over your shoulder to pull out your phone and prove your appointment was today, but when you go back to check, heat spreads across your cheeks faster than ever.

the date said next month

“ya had the right day i’ll give you that” and he’s laughing. not at you but because you’re cute, he thinks. pouting, growing hot from embarrassment. “i’ll tell you what..”

he leans in and you can smell the smoke that lingers on his breath mixing like some sort of love potion with his musky cologne, his pierced eyebrow quirking, browned eyes staring into yours with puffy lips wet from licking, “i can squeeze you in tomorrow. was supposed to have an off day but ill help a pretty girl like you out, how’s that sound?”

and you’ve never nodded faster. smile pulling at your glossed lips, drawing his to get trapped underneath his teeth.

“here i’ll give you my number, i’ll text you the time ‘n stuff later”

with that, you leave his parlor, your number scribbled on the back of some old receipt next to your name and a heart.

geto’s no better than a man. no better. he goes home that night and texts you as soon as he’s tucked into bed.

hey this is suguru btw.

your phone vibrates on your nightstand, and you smile at the notification. it almost felt unreal, someone who felt so unreachable, someone like geto in your phone, texting you first.

hey!

he catches himself smiling at the message too, his mind trailing back to seeing your pretty face when you walked into the parlor. the way you looked around doe-eyed like a little deer in headlights. looked innocent, and he liked that. maybe a little too much, his dick twitching against the fabric of his boxers.

he only talked to you for a few minutes. barely even held a conversation, but god did you look good. can’t blame him for getting like this.

what time is good for you? like i said, im supposed to be off but had no plans so any time is fine.

your thumbs dance across your keyboard as you think of what to say in response. you’re nervous. and if you knew he was jerking his cock, you’d be even more. his hand slowly .. very slowly rubbing his leaky tip, his head full, overflowing and bubbling with thoughts of you. what are you doing right now? are you in bed too? squeezing his warm balls, cupping them, teasing himself, imagining it’s your sweet little hands.

is 6 pm okay?

the little buzz drags him from his thoughts.

yea. see you then, pretty.

the simple little pet name makes you feel like you’re going to explode. so warm all over your body, and you wish you could just time travel to the next day and see him already.

geto brings the palm of his large hand to his face, lolling his tongue out to lick long stripes on it, shivering at the feeling of his own piercing before wrapping around the base of his thick cock, stroking himself only two times. this won’t do.

he reached for the pocket pussy he keeps nested deep in his drawer. leaning over to let spit fall and dribble into the clear toy before rubbing it on his tip.

groaning, “shiiiiittt” his hips bucking up as he slowly lets it sink down— body twitching at the feeling of all the little bumps and ridges massaging his sensitive cock.

“fu- fuck juuuust like that, mhhhm”

imagining he’s inside your tight little walls, squishing him like he’s meant for you, snug and tight like a puzzle piece.

his chest heaved with every snap of his wrist, spit sinking out and ringing out the base of his cock leaking down to his heavy balls, “feel so fucking good baby”

so fast he’s already shooting into the toy, whining because it’s not you. wishing it was you, your warm walls probably feel so much better. probably sound so cute taking him from behind or from the front, your eyes locked onto his.

he came so much it’s leaking all over himself. so messy and dirty and he brings the toy up and licks it all out, shoving his tongue inside the rubbery walls to flick and clean it up.

“shit”

the next day came too slowly. to you but especially to suguru. he went to the parlor an hour earlier to open and tidy up, pulling his raven locs into a ponytail, letting a few stray strands fall and frame his face, counting each and every second.

and then he hears it. the little ding as the door opens, you push it open smiling up at him as you walk through and you look even better than he remembered. and he’s trying so hard to keep his composure.

he nods at you, giving you a small smile, “so what did you want to get, and where?”

at your reply he freezes, his hands almost crumbling up the paperwork he reached for you to fill out — “my chest”

“your chest?”

he parrots you. then he repeats it in his head a few more times. picturing you pull your little top up.

he can tell you’re not wearing a bra with how your nipples perk up and poke through the flimsy, almost see-through fabric.

you nod your head, mhm sounding and bubbling past your lips.

god, you’re going to be the death of him.

after you finish with all the paperwork, he pulls you into the back making small talk asking about your day. and you indulge, asking back, finding comfort in the normality of your conversation. he’s different from what people painted him out to be and you felt relaxed in his presence.

even more when he offers you a seat, cleaning it off before slipping on some black gloves. his hands almost bulge out, his knuckles poking through the latex.

“can i see the design?”

you pull up the picture on your phone and he hums, “and you said your chest, right?”

again he repeats it, almost as if it’s a mantra he’s using to calm his nerves. calm his dick.

you just nod, “do i need to take my shirt off?”

and well no you don’t, not yet at least, but he says yes, reaching forward to do it for you because he’s just so sweet, right? so nice and caring, and welcoming.

and he only wraps his lips around your tits to soothe you, right? sucking, letting his teeth sink into the buds, the silver ball tracing over them. his other glove-clad hand cupping them.

sinks his cock into you just cause he wants to take care of you, right? he could tell you wanted it soo bad. your thighs pressing together so tightly when he pressed his lips against your chest with a soft, “suguru please”

“mhm let me take care of you, pretty girl, spread em, hold yourself open f’me— uh huh, juuust like that.”

your little arms shake and tremble, hooking around the back of your knees as he pushes into your tight cunt. and fuck, he was right. feels so much better than his toy.

“fuuuckk found your spot, baby, ‘s right there? yeah feel good right there?” he rolls his hips up, brushing against that spot, his thick tip kissing it, making your body twitch.

“yes— fuck yes feels so good”

right about you sounding so fucking good too— his cock twitching inside the solitude of your pretty slimy walls. shivering at how you suck and milk him so well, so tight and warm. so fucking warm. feels so good he’s already close, but he wants to keep making you feel good, keep hearing you, and if he was to fuck his cum into you, overstimulating his needy cock to do that, then so be it.

“inside” you whine out at how he twitches, his stokes sputtering and faltering as he languidly pushing into your sopping pussy, leaking all over him, so wet.

“ohh — fuck ohfuck” and it pushes him over the edge, bottoming out to overfill you, make you nice and creamy ‘cause you deserve it. deserve it for being so good, making him feel so good.

letting his head fall onto your shoulder sweat sprinkling his forehead as he empties himself for you. for your pretty pussy, all for you.

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING HAZY !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: carlos wanted his wife to let it all out. that’s all.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), not proofread, use of explicit language, established relationship (married), soft dom!carlos, unprotected sex (pls use protection), creampie, sex as emotional outlet, dacryphilia, reader being in subspace, ion know what i wrote it’s just smut, consider this my fever dream (i have a fever)

recommended song: american by lana del rey (i kinda based it off the vibes of the song)

note: y’all should check out something devoured bc there’s not much jenson button love out there 🤭 this was also an idea i brought up to a moot (@daaiissyyyyy) because we had too much fun recommending songs back and forth enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

the spaniard didn’t usually come home earlier than his wife. his flights back to madrid were usually longer and she worked nearby. so it wasn’t everyday he got to go home and relax in front of the television while he patiently waited for her to get back from her office shift. 

what he didn’t expect, however, was the expression on her face when her eyes lit up for a brief moment at the sight of carlos.

it was as if she felt numbness in her system, telling him about her work and how much her boss frustrated her after working for hours on a project she’s dedicated herself to. 

it was one of those things that carlos had heard through the nightly facetime call with her. she spoke enthusiastically about her project while she cooked dinner for herself, to which she’d ask about his media duties and how it went for him after.

it wasn’t anything that carlos didn’t welcome; he loved her so much that her enthusiasm and cheeriness were nothing but a part of his everyday life. 

so to see her like this— less than optimistic and happy without the verge of crying (which she usually did over the little things), it didn’t sit right with him. 

“cariño,” he murmured, stopping her from moving around the kitchen as he pulled her closer to him. pinning her against the counter, she took a deep breath as he asked, “i’m here now. what do you want?” 

“i- i-“ she stammered, “i’m okay, carlos.”

“no, you’re not, bebe,” carlos mumbled, kissing her neck before his head moved up and his mouth nibbled at her ear. “i’ve been married to you for years. i know when you’re not okay.” 

his breath fanned her skin as he said, “tell me what you want, mi vida. ‘m here for you.” 

“i-“ she took a deep breath and murmured, “i just want to let it all out and cry, carlos and i can’t do it.” 

out of desperation, she turned around and faced him with a wobbling smile. “i want you to fuck me ‘til i’m crying and- make it all go away, carlos. please.” 

with a sweet smile, he tipped her head back and softly kissed her. 

“anything to help you out, cariño. let’s get you out of these clothes, hm?” 

it was like she was being split into half. 

his cock, its girth and length, was no contest to her cunt. carlos could still remember the first time her eyes landed on it as if she was wondering how it would fit into her. 

carlos loved the way her eyes would roll back when he managed to fit in snugly, fucking her while being pleased by the way her legs trembled and shook as he continued pounding into her. 

but right now, it was all about her. all she wanted was to have an outlet for her emotions. that’s what she was getting. 

he watched the way tears fell down her temple as he smiled gently. his smile differed from his actions, thrusting until he completely bottomed out of her and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, eliciting a whiny moan from her as she incoherently spoke. 

she felt like she was being split into half, yet she wanted him to break her fully. 

“‘los, wan’ more,” she whimpered, her eyes shut tight as she whined.

“i know you do, mi vida,” carlos murmured, pounding hard as her toes curled and her heels dug into his hips. “so eager for me.”

“fuck, carlos, please~” she opened her eyes for a moment. carlos saw nothing but haze in her eyes, her thoughts were already driven away from the insanity of her reality at work. 

good, carlos thought. all he wanted was to distract her from the stress. 

“you look so pretty, mi corazon,” he mumbled, his fingers pulling away from her tits to wipe her tears away. “so, so pretty.” 

“te mereces algo mejor, mi esposa,” you deserve better, my wife. carlos continued. “so much more than those people, bebe.”

she was already too fucked out to even consider what he was saying, sobbing as she begged him for more. “carlos, please fuck me harder. i wanna cu- hah~ fuck— please—“

“shh,” he tutted quietly, his fingers now trailing down to rub her clit as she let out a sharp cry. now thrusting harder and faster, carlos moaned at the way her walls clenched around his cock as he mumbled, “so fucking good for me, mi amor. cum for me, bebe.” 

her legs twitched and heels dug into his hips as she whined, “gonna cum, ‘los! i’m cumming— ah- hah~” 

she felt nothing but euphoria, her vision turning white as she let out a quiet scream. “oh, oh~” she whimpered, feeling him paint her walls white with his pleasure as they both let out choked moans. 

carlos’ breath fanned her neck as he gathered his breathing. then, he gently pulled himself out of her. she let out a whine, telling him to continue stuffing her and that she felt empty without his cock inside her. 

he stood for a brief moment, watching as her body limped and a mix of her and his pleasure oozing out of her cunt. 

with her mind still hazy she murmured, “carlos, want you.”

“i know, mi vida,” he said softly. “i’m just gonna clean you up then we’ll go to sleep.”

“but—“ she sobbed, tears falling down again. 

“no more thinking,” he told her gently, yet his words demanded her to listen. he leaned over to press a kiss on her forehead as he mumbled, “not tonight. we’re gonna go to sleep and you’re gonna listen like a good girl, hm?”

she relented, wanting to please him as she nodded. a pout still played on her lips, not happy with his words but regardless she said, “mmm…okay.” 

carlos smiled lightly. it was nice to know that she got her emotions out already— she clearly needed that more than anything. 

[cherrycocaineee]

41. Happy Birthday, Slut - Joker

*Synopsis: It’s Athena’s 19th birthday, it’s also been a complete year since she ran away with the Joker after he killed her abusive father. The Joker wants to make the day special for Athena, wants her to have a good birthday since it’s been awhile. And her birthday present…he’s got something special planned for that.*

*Warning: nsfw, 18+, dumbification, degradation, praising, rough sex, choking, restraints, legal age gap, daddy kink, semi-public sex, whatever else you wanna consider a warning lol.*

*A/N: just a reminder that I’ve changed the character name to Athena bc I had my daughter five months ago and named her Paisley.*

*Athena’s p.o.v*

Rays of sunlight pierced through a crack in the black curtains that covered the large panel glass windows in the room. I groaned, stretching my bed over the black, silk sheets. The Joker wasn’t lying beside me but that was normal most days, he was probably down in his study or something. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before throwing my legs over the side of the bed. I flinched when I touched the cold floor. The floor was always so cold, I really needed to get some slippers.

   I push myself up and head to the master bathroom, turning the light on. I turned on the hot water before slipping out of my silk nightgown. It slipped off my body with ease, then I took off my underwear and climbed inside. Hot water cascaded down my small frame, soaking my hair as I rinsed off. I grabbed my loofah and washed my body, then moved on to washing my hair. After my shower, I turned off the water and grabbed my towel, dried off then wrapped it around me before grabbing another towel to dry my hair.

As I walked out, I noticed the bed was remade and there was an outfit sitting out on the comforter. I looked around the room but didn’t see anyone. Either Mister J or one of his henchmen, Frost, did this. I walked over to the outfit and looked at it. It was a short sleeve, red dress with white polka dots and a low v-neck; it was also thigh high and I was sure if I bent over it would live zero to the imagination. There were a pair of white platform pumps that were absolutely gorgeous, a pair of ruby red earrings, and a small white handbag. It was a lovely outfit. I threw it on before going back into the bathroom where I straightened my hair and did my makeup.

   My heels clicked against the marbled floor of the house as I walked down the stairs and headed towards Mister J’s study. Frost was just coming out when I arrived.

 “Good morning, Frost.”

He looked at me and smiled. “Good morning, Athena.”

  “Is Mister J in?”

He nodded his head before opening the door and letting me inside. I thanked him as he closed the door. Sitting behind his desk, Mister J was scribbling some stuff down on some papers; he looked up when he heard my heels. A grin stretched across his painted red lips.

  “Ah, good morning, darling.”

  He stood up from his chair and approached me, his tattooed hands immediately finding my hips. I smiled at him.

 “Good morning, Mister J.”

Mister J leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss against my lips.

 “Happy birthday,” he added against my lips.

 My eyes widened, I couldn’t believe I had forgotten my own birthday. I giggled and touched his chest, my fingertips grazing over the opening of his blood red, button up shirt as well as the ink on his pale skin. He watched me.

  “I’d completely forgotten,” I laughed.

  Mister J laughed too, his fingers touching my face before his fingers gripped my chin and he crammed his lips onto mine. He kissed me for what felt like forever but when he pulled away it felt like the kiss had barely been there.

  “Have you had breakfast yet, birthday girl?”

 I shook my head “no.” He took my hand in his and led me out of the study down to the kitchen. I smiled as he looked at me.

 “You look stunning in your new outfit, darling.” Mister J said.

 “Thank you.”

In the kitchen, Mister J gestured for me to sit down on the barstool before he started making me breakfast. I watched him cook, it was rare for him to be in the kitchen making our own meals. He’d normally tell one of the cooks to do it.

  “Well, aren’t I special,” I giggled

  “You are special, darlin’.” He grinned.

When breakfast was cooked, Mister J placed my plate in front of me and stood behind me with his arms around my waist and his head on my shoulder. The food looked amazing. He had made me waffles with fresh blueberries and strawberries on them, scrambled eggs because he knows I hate runny yolk, and some breakfast sausage. It was absolutely perfect.

 “You aren’t going to eat?” I asked him, shoving a bite of egg in my mouth.

He grinned and shook his head, “no, I’ll be saving my appetite for later this evening.”

I was about to ask him what he meant but then his hands squeezed my exposed thighs. I knew exactly what he wanted, it’s what I’ve been wanting too. Mister J and I hadn’t had sex the entire time we were together and that was because he had been so busy with so many things that he was tired. That and I was a virgin, so the thought of having sex immediately after we just got together didn’t seem appealing to me. I had been afraid that after I gave him what he wanted, he’d leave. But after awhile, I longed for him to touch every part of my body, to feel his cock inside my cunt, and the sounds he would make while he was fucking me.

  Mister J tapped on my head. I hadn’t realized I had froze in deep thought.

“What’s running through that pretty, little head of yours, Athena?” He grinned.

I chewed the remainder of the egg in my mouth before swallowing it. I turned and looked at him, our blue eyes staring into each other. God, he was handsome, no one could convince me otherwise.

  “Do you think that we could…uhm…” God this was embarrassing to ask for.

Mister J watched me intently, waiting for me to say what I was gonna say. I gulped, feeling my cheeks turn red.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Mister J teased, “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t use those pretty words of yours.”

A tease. He was a ginormous tease. He knew exactly what I wanted.

  “Can we…can we please…please don’t make me say it.”

 “Oh, well then you must not really want it.”

Asshole.

Mister J kissed my neck and I shivered as I felt him move along my neck. His hands squeezed my thighs and I moaned. He chuckled.

 “Mister J,” I whimpered, “I need you.”

 “Need me to what, darlin’?”

 “N-need you to fuck me.”

He grinned wider than I have ever seen. He was waiting for this day just as much as I was. I bit my bottom lip and he stared longingly. He chuckled and looked at me.

 “I sure can, but you’ll have to wait for tonight after all the fun birthday things we do. Now eat your breakfast, you’ll need the energy for what I have in store for you.”

  Mister J walked away from me and headed off probably back to his office. I huffed. He was really making me wait until the end of the day, that was totally rude. I sighed and started finishing my breakfast. After I was done eating, I cleaned my dishes even though the cook insisted that she would do it. I shooed her away, telling her she does enough for me already. When I was finished cleaning my dishes, I headed to a different part of the house but was stopped by Frost.

 “Miss Athena,” he said, “Mister J has asked me to tell you to go out to the car, he’ll be waiting for you there.”

 “Oh? Are we going to his club?” I asked.

 “No, he has something different planned.”

  Frost didn’t say another word to me, he just walked away. I tilted my head and went outside to find Mister J waiting in his purple lamborghini. I approached the car, Mister J pushed the passenger’s side open for me like normal and I climbed in, closing the door.

 “Ready, princess?”

 “Where are we going?” I asked, curiously.

 “Thought you might like to go shopping, get yourself whatever you want. You don’t really spend a lot of my money, so I figured this might be a treat. I’ll go with you so I can make sure you’re actually spending a lot.”

 “You want me to spend a lot?” I asked, with wide eyes.

 “Sweetheart, if it doesn’t say you spent the length of a phone number, I’ll be quite annoyed.”

My eyes widened. He wanted me to spend that much money. I did the math in my head and gasped.

 “But the size of a phone number is like a billion dollars.”

 “Exactly.”

  Mister J started driving towards Gotham. He asked which store I’d like to go to first. I looked down at my phone wondering how the hell I was going to spend a billion dollars or if he was just exaggerating and I didn’t actually have to spend a billion. I perked up. This phone was the same phone I had since I moved to Gotham, Frost had picked it up when he went to get my belongings and kidnap my dad.

 “I would like a new phone, if that’s okay.”

 “‘Course it’s okay!” He laughed before driving me to a phone store.

People in Gotham didn’t really pay any attention to anyone unless they were being robbed or some other criminal act was being performed, mainly violence. So I wasn’t shocked when Mister J walked around the phone store with me, our hands clasped together, and no one jumped to call the police. I was looking at all the phones that they had on the floor while the Joker watched me. Finally I picked an Iphone 13 in a pink color. The Joker paid for it and we headed back to his lamborghini. For the remainder of the day, Mister J took me shopping at various different stores before taking me out to dinner later that evening. The restaurant he took me to was absolutely stunning. There was a chandelier directly above the entire restaurant that illuminated a soft glow over all the tables. Mister J and I were escorted to a VIP section so that neither one of us could be bothered. I was staring at all of the beautifully, expensive art that hung on the walls, the mahogany brown color that mixed with the egg shell white. The restaurant was gorgeous. We sat down and the waitress came in to take our order. Mister J ordered himself a large steak and I ordered myself a grilled chicken salad. I looked at Mister J.

 “Thank you, for all of this today.”

 “You’re welcome but the day’s not over and I’ve got one more thing for you.”

  He had a mischievous grin on his face and I felt my heart rate speed up. He knew what he was doing, that asshole. Our food came and we started eating while chatting about random things. I couldn’t keep my eyes from staring at him. He was handsome. From his green hair, to his ruby red lips, to his tattoos, and his muscular body. God, he wasn’t just handsome, he was sexy. I slowly chewed my food, it tasted good but I didn’t want it right now. Mister J looked up from his steak.

 “You alright, darling?” He asked, grinning.

 I didn’t answer him, I just stood up and walked over to him. I climbed into his lap and he looked at me, a grin stretched across his ruby red lips. I smiled back.

 “Someone couldn’t wait, hm? Impatient little thing.”

“How can I wait when you’re sitting across from me looking so good,” I point out.

 “Well who can argue there, doll?” He laughed, his hands moving to my hips, rubbing small circles against my exposed skin, “I can’t keep my eyes off you either.”

 “Then why are we waiting?” I whispered seductively in his ear.

Mister J ran his hands down my hips to my exposed thighs. I shivered from his touch, my eyes wandering down his exposed chest. He always wore his shirts slightly unbuttoned, giving me a perfect view of his pretty, tattooed chest. I was getting so tired of fantasizing about him fucking his cock into me while I touched myself, I needed it. I ran my fingers down his chest before I started unbuttoning his shirt exposing more of his skin. I sighed softly as I leaned down and peppered his tattooed chest with kisses, leaving behind a trail of dusky rose lipstick against his pale skin. Mister J groaned. That sent a shiver up my spine. I loved how deep his groans were even if I’ve only ever heard them when he was frustrated with his work or someone was pissing him off. This was different, this was a groan of pleasure that I was giving him.

 “Like that?” I asked, my eyelashes fluttering as I looked up at him.

 His hand went to my throat while his other stayed on my thigh. I grin as he moves closer to me.

 “You know I do, doll.”

His grip on my thigh and my throat tighten just a little bit; not enough to hurt me but enough so he was holding me tight. I could feel my cunt practically drooling. Mister J slammed his lips against mine and we kissed feverishly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I moaned, his tongue running over my bottom lip before slipping it into my mouth. He tasted like steak, obviously, but I could also taste expensive scotch, smoke from his cigars, and just…him. I moaned as I grinded my hips against him, my aching cunt desperate for some type of friction. I was sure I was leaving behind a wet spot on his pants but he didn’t seem to mind. He moved his lips from mine and started kissing and sucking on my neck. I moaned again, my movements becoming rougher as I felt his hard cock through his pants.

  “So pretty,” he whispered before he lifted my dress revealing my black, lacy panties. He grinned softly. “Look at you. All ready, wrapping yourself all pretty for me.”

 I moaned at his words. He grinned and pushed my dress up more until it was completely off of my body. My black, lacy bra being revealed. He growled, his eyes darkening in desire and lust. He pulled me closer to him, his lips attaching to my own. His tongue ran over my mouth and he groaned. I gasped as he squeezed my breast, my eyes rolling back as I filled his bulge pressed against my cunt.

 “Mister J…”

 “Ah,” he interrupted, “what’s my name?”

 “Daddy,” I corrected; his grin stretching further across his face.

 “What can daddy do for you?”

 “Fuck me.”

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he grips my breast again and I moan. He held me close to his body, his piercing blue eyes staring into my lust filled eyes.

  “Such a dirty slut wanting me to fuck you in this restaurant,” he grinned, “you like the idea of the waiter coming back in here seeing me stuff your sweet little pussy, huh?”

 His words made my cunt even more wet. I moaned and nodded my head. Whatever got me railed sooner. Mister J pulled me off his lap, making me stand up. He got to his feet too, unclipping my bra with one hand, my breast fully exposed as he tied my wrist behind me back with my bra. The fabric was tight against my skin but I liked it. Once my hands were secured behind my back, Mister J pushed me down to my knees. His shirt was still unbuttoned, but not completely off; he unbuckles his belt and pulls it off before setting it down on his seat. I watched him with doe eyes as he undoes his pants and pulls out his cock. It’s already hard and standing at attention, the tip of his cock already leaking with precum. Drool slips past my lips and he grins.

  “Open wide for daddy, baby.”

  I don’t even hesitate or think about it, I just open my mouth. He guides his cock into my mouth and I moan as he fills my mouth. He moves his hips slowly, his cock moving in and out of my mouth each thrust getting rougher and rougher as the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat. Mister J groans as he grabs my head pushing himself deeper into my mouth. I felt tears prick at the corner of my eyes, my hands struggling in the restraints he had me in. It was my bra so you’d think the fabric would be easily tearable but not for me. Mister J growled.

 “That’s it, baby, suck daddy’s cock.”

 The back of my throat made squelching noises as he fucked my face. I felt tears stream down my face but I was enjoying every moment of it. I ran my tongue over every inch of his cock, groaning as I felt every vein that decorated his cock.

  “Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

I moaned around him. Mister J grunted before pulling me off his dick, I started gasping for air. He turns me around and pushes the food onto the floor before pushing me down on the table, my back facing him but my ass out. He grabs the fabric of my panties and rips them off, tearing the fabric easily. I moan. He kneeled down and pulled my ass cheeks apart, my eyes rolling back as he gave himself a perfect view of both my cunt and my asshole. Mister J spits on my pussy before devouring it, his tongue and mouth slurping and licking at my soaked cunt. I moaned, pressing my head against the table as he ate me out. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he nipped my clit.

 “Oh fucking god,” I moan out, I grip the side of the table.

  Mister J keeps eating me out, his tongue pushing into my cunt. I tighten around his tongue and he growls. I try to move my hands but can’t. My legs started shaking and I knew I was about to cum.

 “Daddy,” I moaned out, “I’m gonna c-cum.”

 Mister J moved his mouth from my cunt, his chin dripping with my juices. He rubbed my clit harshly, the sound of my arousal echoing in the room mixing with both our heavy breathing. I moaned more as he looked up at me, grinning.

  “Come on, baby, cum for daddy.”

 “Oh fuck, cumming, daddy.”

  My knees buckled as I came hard, my eyes rolling back as a silent scream left my lungs. When I was done cumming, Mister J stood up and picked me up and placed me on the table, spreading my legs. I was still panting from the previous orgasm. Mister J spit on his cock before rubbing it over it and positioning himself in front of my pussy. I propped myself up the best I could so I could see him shove his cock inside me. I moaned as he pushed himself inside me, his cock stretching me out to his width. Mister J groaned.

  “Such a tight, fucking pussy, doll.”

 “Yeah, daddy?” I moan, he nods his head as he starts moving his hips faster and harder. I groan as he pounds into my cunt. Mister J reached his hand up and grabbed my throat and squeezed tightly as he fucked me. His hips moved at an animalistic speed, the table shaking back and forth, his hand on my throat was the only thing that kept me on the table.

 “Holy shit,” I moaned, “you’re so f-fucking deep.”

 Mister J grinned as he continued to fuck himself into me. I fall back on the table, my hands still secured behind my back. With each thrust, my breast bounced. Mister J leaned down and sucked on one of my nipples, the speed of his hips never faltering.

“Such a stupid whore,” Mister J growled roughly, sweat collecting on his body. My own body glistened with a small film of sweat. Mister J grabbed one of my legs and threw it over his shoulder allowing him to go deeper. My eyes rolled back and drool started spilling from my lips and collecting on the table I was one. Mister J watched me, a grin on his face as he continued to move his hips roughly. My heart was hammering inside my chest as adrenaline and pleasure soaked every inch of my nerves. I couldn’t focus on anything else, just the way he cock stretched me out and the sounds coming from my wet cunt each time he drilled himself into me.

  “Look at that,” Mister J grinned, “now we’re getting somewhere.”

 My entire body was buzzing and I was approaching my climax once again. I moaned and arched my back the best I could with my hands behind my back. The fabric of my bra rubbed my wrist raw but I didn’t care.

 “G-gonna cum,” I managed to pant out.

 “Panting?” The Joker laughed, “like a bitch in heat. You wanna cum, doll, beg me for it.”

  His words were so lewd, it was only gonna get more intense from here. I moaned and looked up at Mister J the best I could through teary eyes. I wasn’t crying from pain, but from pleasure.

 “Please, daddy, wanna cum.” I whimper.

He laughs. “You can do better than that, baby. Beg daddy and I’ll let you make a pretty mess on my cock.”

  “Daddy!” I moaned louder as he rubbed my clit at the same time as he fucked me, “f-fuck, please, please let me cum. Need it, need it so fucking bad. Wanna cum, please, please.” I didn’t care if the words made sense or anything, I just needed to cum. Mister J reached down and grabbed by my neck with his free hand and yanked me closer to him, his cock still working its magic. I moaned again.

 “Cum.” It was an order. Either I cum now or not at all. So I came hard all over his cock, my legs shaking and my eyes rolling back. I might have looked like the main character from the exorcist. A scream was ripped from my lungs as my juices coated every inch of his cock, my pussy squeezing around him. He groaned too but didn’t stop. Instead, he pulled me up and sat down on his seat.

  “Ride me.”

 “T-tired.”

  “Don’t think so, doll, you wanted to be an impatient brat, ride me.”

I moved myself up and down on his cock. His hands were on my hips as I bounced up and down. My hair bounced with the movement. My sweaty skin caused some strands to stick to me.

 “That’s it. Ride daddy.”

 “L-legs getting tired, daddy.”

  Mister J looked up at me and smacked my face, not enough to physically cause me pain but enough to tell me that he didn’t care. He was right, I wanted this now and was too impatient to wait when I got home. There was a knock on the door and I covered my mouth. Mister J laughed and pulled my hand down.

 “What is it?” He laughed.

The door opened and the waiter walked in. His eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw me riding the Joker’s cock. Mister J pulled me off of him and bent me over the table.

  “W-was just coming to check on you two,” the waiter stuttered out, I could see the growing tent in his pants.

 “Hold on a second, kid,” Mister J said, he removed one of his golden chains and wrapped it around my neck before pulling on it. Not tight but enough for the cool metal to dig into my hot skin. He slammed himself in from behind and I moaned out again. By now I knew, without actually seeing, that I was completely fucked out. The waiter’s eyes met mine, which were teary eyed and my eyeliner and mascara probably smudged to hell. 

  “See that, kid. This dumb whore likes that you’re watching her get fucked. Her pussy is practically suffocating my cock.”

 The waiter couldn’t move or say anything, he just stood there and watched; his mouth slightly open.

 “Oh my fucking…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.

 “What a dumb slut,” Mister J laughed, “gonna cum on my dick again in front of this man?”

 “Yes daddy.”

 “Then let’s see it baby. Give this man a show.”

I moaned louder this time as I came hard on his cock for the second time, this being a total of three orgasms in I don’t know how long. Were we here for an hour, two, maybe it was closing time and that’s why the waiter came to check on us. Mister J rubbed my clit quickly and I felt a different type of pressure before I released and ended up squirting for the first time.

 “Ohhh, fuck,” I cry out.

  In front of me, the waiter now had a wet spot on his pants meaning he probably came too. Mister J smacked my ass roughly before grabbing it and continued to fuck himself into me.

 “Gonna breed this cunt, baby, ready?”

 I nod vigorously, still moaning and panting. Mister J fucked himself into my cunt a few more times before he growled and released his cum into my pussy. My eyes rolled back as I felt his entire seed push all the way inside me, deep. Mister J rutted against me, groaning as he watched my greedy pussy take all his cum before he pulled out. He zips himself back up and looks at the waiter.

 “Bring the check.”

 “Y-yes sir.” The waiter ran off and Mister J helped me to my feet.

He untied my hands from my bra and grinned down at me.

  “Get dressed doll, sorry about your panties and bra. Looks like you’ll have to walk out of here with my cum running down your leg.”

 He wasn’t actually sorry but I didn’t mind. In fact, I moaned at the thought. He wrapped his arms around me.

 “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Let’s get home so I can rough you up some more.”

 I giggled and nodded as I got dressed. Mister J paid for the food that we didn’t eat, the waiter refused to make eye contact with either one of us, and we left. I was excited to see what more he had in store for me when we got home.

Tags: @w4nt-h1s-d1ck

[evansbby]

an update from me :)

hey everyone, i know i haven’t been very active on here lately. and the reason is because a lot of things in my life have changed. i’ve been debating even sharing this but i feel like i’m in a good enough position to be okay with sharing it.

so these past two years, i had been super active on here (late 2022- early 24) and that was because, well, I didn’t really have anything else. that’s because I had graduated in 2022 and then i just couldn’t find a job in my field. like so many other recent graduates, it was just so hard and tough and it really made me lose all faith in myself.

i found myself to be in the worst mental state i had ever been. I cut myself off from my friends, felt like a burden towards my family, was having meltdowns and panic attacks almost daily, even started eating unhealthily and was just overall in a very bad place.

HOWEVER, i always felt like I could come on tumblr and that’s why i was so active and writing all these stories because honestly, they were almost like a crutch to me. like the ONE thing i had to look forward to in life during those times was the feedback I’d get when i posted a fic, and honestly it’s what kept me going. like i swear to god, on some days this blog and community was the only thing that i had to look forward to and keep me going, and writing felt like such a huge escape.

because i felt so USELESS. like i was wasting my life and not making any money or being able to kickstart my career after uni, and that it would be like this forever, so when I was writing it actually felt like I was doing something with a purpose. honestly on some days I would literally wake up early and go sit in Starbucks all day just writing my fics like i was cosplaying working or something just so I’d have a purpose. (I don’t go to Starbucks anymore lol boycott)

anyways, i never shared this on tumblr these past few years bc you guys don’t understand what a failure i felt like. i would sometimes get asks on here asking what i did for a job and I’d feel so embarrassed of my current state of being unable to find a job when it felt like everyone else who had graduated with me had one and obtained one so easily. like i felt ASHAMED.

i remember once i got an ask asking what my job was and I just said “fashion marketing” bc that was one of the things i wanted to do and id done an internship in that field so i just put that but it was a LIE i was unemployed and the most depressed ive been in my whole life but I thought maybe i could manifest it.

ANYWAYS, and you’ve probably already guessed it, but the reason I’m not so active anymore is because I did eventually find a job. a really good one that I’m enjoying so much and I’m so happy at. Finally, I’m feeling like myself again, like I’m living that life in London as a twenty something that I’d see everyone on tiktok living!! Like I’m finally just having fun, going out with friends, being active, having money to spend on fun things etc.

and it feels so surreal and crazy because when i was depressed and jobless, it made me doubt myself so much. Like the constant rejections and failed interviews made me doubt myself and lowered my self esteem so much and I thought I’d NEVER achieve this life that i have now! And I don’t want to jinx it but I literally thank God every day for finally granting me this because I really feel like I would’ve gotten worse and worse and IDEK.

But back to the main point, and so because of my new job I just don’t have that much time for tumblr anymore. But this isn’t a goodbye post… not at all! I find that when I’m super busy in life is also when I get the most motivated to write! Like for example in summer 2022 I was on here so much and that was the summer I had the most fun, was the most busy. I think when I’m busy in life, I get motivated to write.

Which I believe is the case right now, because I’m SO motivated to complete all my stories, I keep thinking about them and writing them slowly, so please don’t think anything is abandoned! I just wanted to make this post to be more transparent about what’s been going on in my life and what had been going on these past two years. That maybe someone else going through something similar can see that eventually, everything does work out.

Anddd I don’t really know how to end this. I just want to say, yall don’t understand just how thankful I am for having this blog, this platform, to write my stories. For having you guys. Because who knows how much worse my mental state would’ve been these past two years when I didn’t have ANYTHING else going for me, if I hadn’t had this blog it would’ve been so much worse.

Thank you so much for believing in me and enjoying my stories and always always letting me know how much you enjoy them. And I’ll say the truth; I know everyone says that engagement on tumblr has been bad lately but I can say that bc of you guys I have literally never EVER had this issue. And that’s not me being big headed, that’s just the truth and it makes me so happy and grateful. Yall always came through for me and still do now! Every time I think my fic is going to flop, you guys come through for me. I appreciate it so much. You guys have no idea how much you helped me when I was at my lowest. And continue to.

Many thanks

Me 🩷🩷🫶🏼🫶🏼

[court-jobi]

Hi, lately I came across your blog and I really adore your writting style :3

I was very excited when I saw you have open requests (if I am not wrong, otherwise ignore me hah), so I have request for Bakugou × reader, when they are in established relationship, but lately it got rocky, because he was barely home, trying to climb ranks and just neglecting their relationship, so they barely even talk. Then reader gets kidnapped, due to being Bakugou's SO, but she feels so irrelevant at this point that she starts saying to the kidnapper that they are wasting their time, because Bakugou is not coming for her, whick Katsuki overhears, you know just good old angst with fluff at the end maybe

If this request is too complicated or specific please don't feel pressured to do this, anyway have a lovely day/night

I am very much receptive to asks, and thank you so much for providing one!! super flattered actually and spent my entire afternoon crafting up this bad boy bc I had an instant idea for it

Hopefully I touched all the right notes on this one, enjoy anon! Don't be a stranger~

Do It Scared

Words: 4.9K

Warnings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x reader TW: kidnapping, intimidation, light descriptions of violence, protective Bakugou is protective, language, angst with a happy ending (promise!!) and potential spoiler: Pro Hero!Deku

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Dynamight is on top of the world– or at least working his ass off to get there.

With Deku back on the leaderboard, he’s got twice the motivation and has never been in love with being a hero more.

“That’s what -heh- nine for you this week, Dynamight?” the newly suited Pro beams at Bakugou- not unlike the five year old version of him did back a lifetime ago.

Only instead of bashing the twerp upside the head with a gloating tease, Bakugou simple smirks and gives Midoriya a stiff push on the shoulder, 

“Ten, but who’s counting, nerd?”

The winded, black-and-blue villain currently under custody finds the heroes’ track records funny. Midoriya doesn’t necessarily take these villain types’ remarks to heart, but hates the attitude of this one today.

“Yer sidekick keepin’ count?! You wanna badge or a chest to pin it on, smartie pants? –AAGH!”

“HEY- THE ONLY GUY CALLIN’ THIS DEKU A NERD IS ME, DUMBASS!! YOU’RE THE SHITHEAD GOING TO JAIL FOR THAT STUNT– AND HE’S HEADING INTO THE TOP TEN!!”

“HO-OKAY, DYNAMIGHT, I think he’s had enough!!” 

Deku corrals the punk’s restraints a bit, but leaves the remaining process of reading rights and detainment for the police who just rolled up. Deku will proudly share that much prefers this ‘thick as thieves’ treatment to the ‘fight me or die’ dynamic they shared in school, and couldn’t be happier to be Pro Heroes once again.

And if Bakugou were completely honest, so was he. He’s in his element and closer to reaching his goal by the day.

Walking out of earshot from the police unit, the two are heading over to Ingenium and Creati who are deeply engrossed with the intelligence officers who just arrived on the scene. 

“Ten it is, then– you really need to start leaving some to me though; I can handle it, you know,” Midoriya slips his facemask down, exposing a pleading grin Bakugou still kinda wants to punch some days. “Might give you a little time to actually take a rest day now and then!”

“Tch, if you were fast enough, you’d do it, ‘Zuku.” Bakugou straightens out his gauntlet, but misses his best friend’s tilt of a frown. “N’ who said I need a rest day, anyway? I’ve never been better!”

“I can think of one person..” Midoriya hinted strongly at something that truly escaped Bakugou’s focus. Every now and then, he couldn’t quite mindread the nerd like normal, if he was deep in work mode.

“Heh?”

Midoriya raised a friendly, tired brow, “How’s your girl been lately, hm?”

Bakugou tenses a touch, but quips back, “Whaddya mean. She’s fine, been working a lot too.”

“Not as much as you. What’s she up to? You haven’t said much about her.”

Which was an oddity, indeed. Your successes, your insights, and even your random memes were common topics of conversation from Bakugou’s lips. But Midoriya did raise a finer point between the lines– you’d been put on something of a backburner, and he knew better that something must be off for the blond porcupine to rarely speak of you. Bakugou sensed it himself, but the more repeated check-in texts he received, the cycle of his non-answers worsened. This must be what the nerd is getting at.

“She’s fine-” Bakugou pressed, assuring himself and no one else, “Look, we’ve got our flow, and it works. I keep her in the loop when I’m busy and she gets it.”

Midoriya heaves a disbelieving breath, and just fixes Bakugou a look.

“What’s that shitty look for, huh? Whaddyou know?!”

“I know when she texted me yesterday that she doesn’t sound thrilled about your overtime…” the freckled sweetheart touched a personal chord within Bakugou. “Or that she hasn’t even heard from you to talk about it? I mean, I-I know it’s not my business, but Ka-”

“Deku, Dynamight!” Iida waved the two over from their aside, and back into work mode- to Bakugou’s drop in spirit, “We have a bit of a time-sensitive mission to take care of~”

Deku turned to the officer, raring to go and and straightening up his shoulders to address their more formal counterparts, “Of course, officer- how can we help?”

“Well sirs, we’ve got an ongoing heist over on the other side of the riverbank, and need a bit of coordination to respond.”

Yauyorozu had just finished off a protein pack of some sort and had demurely crumpled its trash in her hand while navigating an ipad passed to her. She’d welcomed Midoriya over when he took interest in whatever footage she’d been presented.

“Well shit, we supposed to be standin’ around like this when time’s wasting, or what?” Bakugou asked brusquely.

Ingenium -in his formal, helmeted fashion couldn’t hide his practiced patience well with the hothead in his response;

“The need for firepower is necessary, Dynamight– but caution is as well,” Iida reminded dryly. “We are in a heavily populated area, and must exercise control.”

Bakugou merely purred a low growl and turned diplomatic.

“Fine. We got live wires? Hostages?”

“To our knowledge, only a select few- a dozen at most,” the officer answered, “We can see most of the victims through the bank’s glass lobby. It’s a small, petty theft group- or so we thought, but there are some decent quirk users among them. Seems they are after more than funds, but records as well.”

Bakugou refrained from rolling his eyes, but only barely. Surely there were bigger and better missions to be pursuing than this– something a bit flashier, more suited for his skills with higher civilian rescue numbers to add to his count.

“One guest was able to contact via the emergency text line, and reported that someone did pull an emergency trigger and was taken further back into the vaults as a prisoner.”

Iida empathized, “Hardly fair- I’m sure none of these customers were armed, and they were simply acting as any hero would trying to notify the authorities.”

The officer firmed up a smile in agreement and proceeded to share some more info about how far back into the bank the team would need to infiltrate based on proximity to servers. 

“Sure you don’t just wanna call ‘Tape’, bust in there, strap ‘em up, and call it a day? Y’don’t really need a whole evac team, do you.”

A simple rescue in-and-out should be easy enough, or so he assumed- until Yaoyorozu took a bit of a sharp intake of breath in her nose, alerting Deku to fixate on the screen again,

“Bak- erm. Dynamight,” Yaoyorozu interjected gently, “-you need to see this-”

Bored and still half paying attention to the officer, Bakugou only barely looked Momo’s way, and didn’t really feel like a crowd around a tiny screen -in full sun- was warranted.

“What? It’s frickin’ bright out-”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya shot back icily, “get over here.”

Something alarming had struck him in the face, and he was purposefully putting on a front to those not personally connected to the heroes. Sidestepping ‘Legs’, Bakugou was passed the ipad and played back the security footage of the interior of the bank.

Time stamped at just fifteen minutes ago, a civilian in question had tried dipping around the counter to where some clerks had been bullied up to the opposite wall- but one of the employees jerked her head towards one of the registers- a lightning quick gesture. This cued the civvie -a woman, if the hiked up skirt was a correct indication- in the foreground to feel around the bottom lip of the keyboard for something- likely an alarm switch. Once done so, she’d merely knelt back down, hoping to stay low and sneak back to avoid the thug to lash out at the person who’d tipped her off.

But then -comically enough- the thug sneezed and unfortunately whipped to the side to let it fly. Looking up, there she was in his sightline. With something akin to a spider’s web knocking her flat onto her back, she’d been dragged up and back with the others- trying to ground herself with a squatted stance first, tried to force her elbows back, then bashing her head back in an attempt to hit her captor– until she was ultimately slapped and taken back to the far hallway, hunched over.

Bakugou saw red. His heart stopped then set itself on fire, hotter than Hades. He’d known that self defense response from having taught it, himself.

You pulled the alarm. 

For the first time in his career- he knows the target he’s saving. He’s in love with her, after all.

Damn your neck hurts. If your elbows hadn't been glued up to your sides, you woulda used those instead; but now having jerked your head back, you’d given yourself a healthy dose of whiplash.

And got a punch to the gut. And a slap to the face. Joy.

There’s fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. You’d seemingly gone for the fight route, with your body moving before your self-preservation could catch up, but it seems your fawning tactic of remaining calm and quiet wasn’t working out for you now. At least you took the attention off those poor girls in the lobby who were in near hysterics. 

Only now it seemed you’d taken on the role yourself, back here. You try to breathe deep, drop your shoulders, drop your jaw. You’d think this would double to avoid showing any fear that your captors can use against you, but it’s honestly just to help keep you grounded and not panic and curb the intense need to vomit or cry.

Please. As if you’d even call yourself heroic for pulling the theft alarm– but you suppose it’s instincts. Carry-over bravery: osmosis you assume, from hanging around these heroes. Your hero. Katsuki.

You’re stunned– you’re shocked– and you’re scared. 

Katsuki. You want Katsuki. More than the police, more than your mom. 

You want your hero to come for you, over any other in this entire country. The name pounds behind your eyes when you shut them against a wave of pain, the person you want more than anything else in the world.

–And at the same time, that man’s name hurts at the cry for it: given he hasn’t spared you more than a one or two word response in days. Because he’s overworked by his own volition. By his own drive. And you should be angry. You have been, for this is the longest you haven’t seen each other outside of a trip; considering you’ve all but committed your lives together and he’s typically at your place every other night, the drop in communication is a cold bath.

And you’re scared now- it’s a blurry feeling. Time is wonky when you’re stuck in a room with no windows, no visible clock and just waiting. All those tips they tell you about how to react in an emergency to keep calm? The ones you’ve heard over and over again in security briefings and teacher preparedness days before the school year starts? Man, is it easy for those to go out the window when you’re in actual trouble.

You just want Katsuki. And that’s a silly thought, considering how wide the city is. He could be clear across the district right now.

But just saying the name -thinking of any other pleasant time when he had his arms around you play-fighting that could make these bindings feel more bearable- that’s what you want to cling to.

The villains here are pretty pathetic as interrogators go, but that spares you no calm as they taunt you as if you were a captured magistrate or politician. They’re split into two parties; their head honcho trying to tap into the databanks of the servers two doors down while your immediate captors with the creepy quirks are choosing to go through your recovered phone seeking out blackmail like the assholes they are. Your primary apps for insurance and paying your bills are thumbprint protected, so really what could they get to that's confidential? Nothing, to your knowledge. But it seems your camera roll strikes their interest. 

Oh yeah, they hit low. They see your lock screen first- a sweet photo of your harmless, dopey dog who they snark that you won’t be home to feed on time. Then even more, as your home screen displays a picture-perfect selfie of you and your darling man. You picked it because it’s rare proof of him smiling at some wisecrack you made before snapping the shutter.

Your handsome and infuriatingly busy man. 

“Aww, well just look at little miss hero’s cute lil boyfriend! Bet he’ll be awful proud of you playing the savior~”

“Tehehe, too little too late though, yeah? Gotta be quicker than that for us.”

“Geez, how sappy can you get. This guy’s all over her…and can’t blame him, honestly. Makes me feel a little bad for roughing such a pretty thing up.~”

Gross. Just gross. You act like you don’t listen, your simpering pain turns to nausea the more they talk. Until a renewed sense of fear hits:

“Wait- go back. Oh. Ohhh shit, no.”

“Whuh.”

“Fuck, man, that’s DYNAMIGHT!!” the jerk with the copious amounts of tattoos and chains draping off his arms like whips gets nervous real fast, “We have Dynamight’s girlfriend!!”

Your other guard seems to swallow for a split second, but immediately tips to a feigned dominance,

“Well, ain’t that just icing on the cake~”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN? He’s gonna come after her!! You know how scary that guy is?! I’m telling the boss-”

“Don’t wimp out already,” he fires back. “Why do that and waste time- when knowing this, we could get paid double? Heroes ransoms can cost him a pretty penny, and you know he’ll do it for her. Those heroes make bank.”

You flatten your brows angrily. 

“Whaddya think, princess? Big man gonna come and save you, huh?  

You really want Katsuki. But you truly have no idea if he’d know or care to come at this point. The spiral downwards in the mind is dizzying along with your headache, and just makes your heart sick for him. 

When you see him next, you’re not sure if you’d hug him or throttle him. Though now, you just wanna see him. 

“Unless.. He doesn’t!” his mood shifts- patronizing, “Too busy makin’ a paycheck and name for himself and all his hero buddies than to settle down and think about the pretty thing at home? Well, I would fix that real quick–”

A muffled boom sounds on your right. Rooms away.

Another, louder. Two beats after, the guards look at each other.

You hear a yell, a harsh one, then another blast that sounds cracklier than the rest. Someone’s close. But you’re honestly not sure if it’s friend or foe.

You’re excited, but get nervous again when the lackeys move into action. Chains loops a rough swing of his appendages around you and starts dragging you back into the adjoining office, while the muscle goes back to type at one of their private laptops that’s downloading something.

You give off a flare of panic in your voice- a sound you hate but can’t control. 

“It’s-s not him–” you force your pitch lower, but it shakes despite your best effort. “Cmon, there’s too many heroes, s’not gonna be him–  n’there gonna come an’- bust yall anyway!! Whaddya want me for?!”

As you’re dragged, you catch a glimpse of shine from above you. In the vent, you see mustard yellow and teal saturated with shadow- all metal. Then, his voice, through a comm on his wrist that flashes in the reflected light:

“Got her. Light it up, on your left.” 

Both lackeys drop what they’re doing and look up to see the vent kicked into the floor– and the wall totally blown in from your right. 

Dynamight -the Symbol of Victory- and Deku -the Symbol of Peace- are dropping in at breakneck speed, though the former is out for blood.

“ALRIGHT, WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKERS AM I KILLING FIRST??”

Deku’s landing creates a decent wind with his jump, revealing Bakugou behind where the door usually is, and clocking your position almost immediately. 

It’s a powerful thing, to see him in action- you’ve certainly never seen it in person, and you’ve never heard him this mad. To his credit, he never raises his voice enough for you to fear it.

He spots you and the guy who rushes him, but just snarls, evades his whip of weighted chains entirely, grabs him by the calf, and chucks him into the opposing wall with a spinning throw. Then, he sets straight to you.

“DEKU!!” he shouts to Midoriya, “Trash, at your ten!!”

“On it!” Your angel from the ceiling ducts is currently laying into the other guy, but keeps the reeling villain in his sights before he can get up and strike again. You imagine the sucker has more than a few broken bones (or truly is dead, as promised)… he doesn’t move from his figure on the floor.

While you’re still coughing up a storm from the drywall throwing dust everywhere, Bakugou comes to your side and immediately picks your bound body up in a rush from the chair you were perched on.

“C’mere you-” 

He sounds rushed and spent, huffs it out of the room and into a separate office down the hall. 

You spot Ingenium and Creati moving on to the other end of the hall where you know the final villain remains, but you can already hear the squeals of said wimp once Iida bursts in. This will be quick work for the rest of them, so you weren’t worried Dynamight would be needed anymore.

Inside an executive’s office, Bakugou kicks the door behind him shut with his heel and sets you on the dearest flat surface- a decently sized desk.

“Hey you- you still with me?”

You don’t realize you’re breathing so fast until he’s looking you square in the face with split concern. It’s night and day from when he burst in after one of his more gusty explosions, his voice all cracked and high in pitch.

“Cmon, baby look at me- here, let’s get this crap off of you..”

Your gasps for air turn wet and you can’t keep yourself from crying anymore. It would be notably sweet that he still tries his hardest not to curse wildly around you, but right now you don’t care what font his expletives are in. Every bit of stress leaving your body all at once is a rush for your senses and your emotions.

“Kats~”

After his pocketed knife’s quick, careful work separating your arms from your waistline covered in a still-sticky webbing, he sheaths the blade again and collects you up when you launch yourself at him. 

Bakugou holds you hard and fast and you can’t even be bothered to worry about how his shoulder pauldrons are nearly choking you. He’s got you back in his arms, and he’s just saved your life.

“I’m here,” he grunts to you, relieved beyond measure, “I’m here, sweet’eart. You’re safe.”

You’re so thankful. You’re so happy-

“N’d I am so sorry.

-You’re so confused.

In a flippy tone that betrays what heightened nerves you’d just gone through, you ask, 

“Huh?”

Bakugou’s fingers thread into your hair when you try and pull back-

“Don’t. S’the first.” His iron-sure voice wavers, “I- I haven't hugged you all week.”

Then, you’re both crying into each other, and it’s a healing thing. 

Dragging careful nails across the back of his hero suit, you try to offer a tiny bit of comfort to this mass of man cradling you on this desk. You know you’re still in dire need to talk about his recent absence, but what a reunion this was. Feeling him after a seven or eight day stretch of near radio silence changes the degree of flame you hold against him. Honestly now, you’re in the mind to think he deserves a pass entirely. 

Bakugou finally lifts enough to press a kiss to your head, but makes no move to let go of you. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Has he? He’s barely texted you past the ‘I’m heading out’ and ‘I’ve gotta sleep’ with no room to offer or reciprocate any form of love between you; so much so, it threatened to make you doubt. 

“Have you? I haven’t heard.”

“No, you haven’t. And that’s all on me.”

You turn your head very slowly- your entire neck is still tender, but you'd rather listen to him with an ear to his chest, where you belong. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you settle on the truth. You might have more to say when you’re not so exhausted, but the truth is you’ll still love him no matter what, and you do always miss him.

You miss every moment, big and small. His wins and losses. Nights where he’s high off a victory or the ones where he’s bone-tired and in his head about how weak he must seem. Nights where he takes out his hearing aids and just wants to fall into your silence to sleep safely, and the mornings where he’s up and ready to go take on the day after he has your kiss and hug to charge him up. Whether he has your chapstick smeared up on his cheek, or the promise of your arms to hold him in whatever state he greets you when he comes home, you just miss him. You notice when he’s not there. The house seeks him out, with lights on for him to find his way inside, and low music to soothe what anger might have followed him home.

You take a few moments to just soak each other in. You hope and pray he’ll come home with you after this.

And thank the Maker, your prayers might just be answered.

“This was a wake-up call, sweetheart.” Bakugou sounds a bit bolder, but still talks softly to you and the dust mites around you, “I’m takin’ a leave. A long one.”

The way he promises time off is something he’s toyed with before, but never followed through on.

“You can’t do that, Kats,” there’s no coldness to the words, but you mean it.

“Yes I can. It’s my race; I can step away.”

You sigh against his pec, “I’m.. I’m not asking you to. I can’t, that wouldn’t be fair.”

To you, sure. But not for his dream. Not the dream he’s worked and fought and lived for since before you met, and long before he fell in love with you. You’d supported him in this chase to save everyone and be the best at what he does from day 1, and you’ve never wavered on that– you still wouldn’t, even if someone asked you now feeling as dejected as you do by his absences–

“Tch. Y’know what's not fair?”

Bakugou finally loosens his grip on you to lift your chin up to him with thick, strong fingers, 

“Leavin’ you for days on end; waiting up, worried sick. Leaving, and just assuming you’ll still be there when I get back. And now you’re getting fuckin’ snatched the minute I turn my back on what we have. That isn’t right.”

The correlation is irrational- this incident today was a freak accident. You couldn’t have planned it- or certainly hope that your identity as his significant other is not going to be weaponized. Shuffle in the hallway beyond tells you that the possibility of that information leaking is sufficiently locked up along with them. 

Surely Izuku would have grabbed your phone– and maybe set you up a new lock screen with a mean mug to poke some fun at ‘Kacchan’.

You slump against him, at the sound that he’s being too hard on himself, and that’s not what you want for him either.

“I just miss you, Katsuki. And I want to see you succeed.” you study the bold ‘X’ across his chest with fondness and heartache mixed, “I want both those things. I just can’t help but wonder if you have to go at it so fast? And so hard, where I never see you? Like you’re racing against the clock to be #1? I just want you there in one piece; I don’t care how long it takes.”

You have no doubt he’s going to land the spot before he’s thirty. You just hope for a balanced ascension to the height of his power and ability. And selfishly… you hope you’re in the picture of his life when he does.

Bakugou hears and you do believe he listens, as he smooths a calming hand up and down your arm all the while.

“And today..” you clam up a bit with an uncontrollable shake, “Today was- scary. But you couldn’t help that. Any more that you can help it from happening t’ anyone. I know that,”

And you look up at him despite the burn it causes you. And -a funny contrast to your still teary eyes- you smile.

“-but you did save me. And that was- honestly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The comment strikes him as funny, too, since he gives a little chuckle.

“Me blastin’ in and causing you to choke on my smoke?”

You nodded briefly.

“Kinda hot, all things considered.”

Unbelievable, his headshake and eyeroll at how easily you can -and will- make jokes. Perhaps it is the shock still, deflecting with humor. 

You do realize how fragile it is because when you laugh at the absurdity, you catch his eye again and you look just a little too long before you’re sniffling. 

The reality is that you could lose him at any time: whether by his end or yours. He’s got the more dangerous job by far, but if today was any indication on your part, you shouldn’t just think yourself as a shoe-in for safety.

Bakugou cups your face in his hands to make himself perfectly clear.

“You’re the hero today, angel. Watched you in 16-bit as you snuck back there, taking that bastard into next week. You saved every- single- one of them.” he placed a kiss on each word as he praised you. “I am so damn proud of you.”

Your hands still skipped, limbs jumpy. 

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

His lashes lured you in as he gazed at you through them, “Doesn’t mean you aren’t one. You did it scared. That’s pretty hot, too.”

You huffed your amusement as he thanked you in his own way. Best to let him carry on before he’s whisked away again. 

Just as you thought he might release you in ushering you out of the office, Bakugou takes you by the hands so that you can stand, then keeps you in place by his immovable stance.

“Things are gonna change,” he vows, “because none of this shit matters if I don’t have you. Yeah I want you now, but I’m gonna want you after my fire’s burnt out. Which means, I gotta pay attention. I have to set ‘who matters’ just as high as ‘what matters’ and remember why.”

Touched by every word, your trembling lessens. You take in his warmth and his care and his explosive loyalty with confidence and nod in agreement.

Taking one last selfish hug, you sink into your hero again, standing more as equals than you usually feel being held by him. He’s lifted you up in more ways than one. Enough to let safety back into your heart, enough to tease,

“That can’t be your line. When did ‘Zuzu’ give you that one?”

“Hey,” Bakugou flicked you in the temple lightly, “I can be nice too, dammit.”

“Sure you can,” you kiss the dip of his neck in apology.

“You’re just always nice, you can’t appreciate the difference.” he pouts, taking your hand and leading you out of the office.

“...Sure I can.”

You have to give him a solid shot– he’s nothing if not insistent with what he wants.

Outside the room, there are a host of officers, photographers, medics and heroes aiding in the recovery efforts, so you relax your hand in his to let go,

–only he doesn’t let you.

Bakugou glances to you, “You’re in shock, extra. You need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Dynamight,” you chortle with a little head bobble like you would have normally done, only now the movement makes you wince.

“That’s what I thought. OI, Deku- where’s her sh-phone?”

The iron hero stands with the receptionists, looks to you both and smiles gratefully, before nodding off to his company and joins you-

“This, I believe, belongs to you, maam~” he perks up as he comes around to your other side. It’s not so much that you have to pretend to be strangers, but in this high-traffic place, it seems easier to fall into roles of ‘heroes’ and ‘thankful public’.

“How kind, Mr. Symbol of Peace~ I’d be missing this!”

Double checking your lock screen, he did -in fact- change your cover screen to a playful selfie: pointing at the crumbled remains of the wall they’d broken into, with the caption:

>>Whatever Kacchan wants, Kacchan gets <3<<

Muting your laugh, you simply tilt your phone Bakugou’s way and catch Midoriya’s quick wink back to you, before he sets off running with a screaming boyfriend sprinting after him.

At least Katsuki showed up back at your place at 6:30PM on the dot, fixed you both a salmon dinner, and started getting your baseline of support back on track. With his next two weeks off and barely keeping his hands off of you so far, you believed he was making good on remembering his why.

[willowsnook]

orange is my favorite color (18+)

Can i get a ham, Swiss, lettuce, mikes way on a gluten free? from @a-beaverhausen

reader x joe burrow x oscar piastri

just let me in

a/n: I’m going to make it to where she’s a stranger to Oscar but not Joe bc it makes more sense for what I’m thinking. also these are my two worlds colliding so it makes me very happy

———————————————————-

The warm Austin air blew through your hair as you made it to the track for COTA, and while you had been to almost every sporting event known to man, this was your first F1 race, and you were excited.

When you and your sister started a podcast a couple of years ago, never in your wildest dreams did you think it would take off like it had. Now, you were an official Barstool Sports podcast and had the opportunity to interview tons of female athletes worldwide. Even though your podcast was geared towards female listeners, you still built relationships with male athletes who supported what you were doing.

“They really just let anyone in here these days don’t they?” You heard a familiar voice call out and turned, smirking, to see Joe Burrow grinning at you. Joe was one of the professional athletes who had been a big supporter of the pod, and you had interviewed him enough times to consider him a friend. He flirted relentlessly with you and you entertained it for the most part but never let it get further than words.

“Hi Joey,” you said, sauntering up to him. He was standing with two other guys who you quickly recognized as Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri.

“Guys, this is y/n,” he introduced. “She has a popular sports podcast here.”

You smiled warmly at the two men and they mirrored you.

“I’ve listened a couple of times,” Lando said and you were surprised. “You should talk to Susie Wolf.”

Nodding, you replied, “yeah that is actually on my to do list while I’m here.”

“Is this your first race?” Oscar asked, and you nodded, and a small smile appeared on his face.

You hung around with them for the next half hour, Lando talking your ear off about different F1 things while Oscar chimed in occasionally, but his eyes never left you, making you almost squirm. There was something about him that was so attractive. The calm, quiet demeanor was an interesting contrast from his teammate, but you were into it.

As the group chatted, you couldn't help but steal glances at Oscar. His piercing gaze made your heart race every time your eyes met. You were so caught up in the moment that you almost missed Joe's invitation.

"Hey, y/n, we're heading to the paddock. Want to come along?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, if that’s okay? you replied unsure.

Lando chimed in, "Of course! We'll vouch for you. Plus, it'll give you a chance to maybe set up that interview with Susie."

You nodded eagerly, and the group started moving towards the paddock area. As you walked, Oscar fell into step beside you.

"So, what made you decide to come to your first F1 race?" he asked, his voice low and curious.

"Well, I was invited by the official F1 marketing team. They are really trying to grow interest in the sport in the US, and I have a large audience of people already interested in sports,” you explained. “But I got into it a few years ago after watching the Netflix show. Just haven’t had the time to make it to a race yet.”

Oscar nodded as you talked, and as you headed into a more crowded area, he tugged you into his side so that you wouldn’t get lost. His hand was warm against your waist, and you tried to contain your blush.

“So, since you’re hanging with us, can I assume you are a McLaren fan?” He asked and you smirked as you shook your head.

“RedBull all the way baby,” you teased and he rolled his eyes.

“We’ll have to fix that,” he muttered. You made it to the garage, and Oscar was pulled away quickly, so you settled into the atmosphere with Joe.

“Having fun?” He asked and you nodded, watching the garage as it came to life.

“Not as much fun as being at a football game but still fun,” you said with a smile and he threw back his head to laugh.

“That’s my girl,” he said, and you felt your stomach flutter at his words. His eyes were mischievous as he noted your reaction and you quickly averted your eyes. “I think our shade of orange looks better on you, though.”

“Oh yeah?,” you teased, smiling.

“Yeah, this shade makes you look pale,” he said, and you laughed loudly. The garage was getting busier, and you were standing very close to Joe as you tried to stay out of the way. Someone tried to move behind you, causing you to take another step closer to him, which he wasn’t complaining about.

“Here, I know you want to watch,” he whispered before shifting you to turn around. Your back rested against his chest, and you stiffened as you felt his arm wrap around your waist, holding you to him. His fingers were subconsciously tracing your skin as he watched the mechanics work.

Oscar appeared at your side again, his eyes darting between you and Joe with a hint of curiosity.

"Sorry to interrupt," Oscar said, his accent making your heart skip a beat. "But I thought you might like a closer look at the car. It's not every day you get to see one up close."

You nodded eagerly, and he began to guide you through the space, explaining the different parts of the car and the various roles of the team members. His passion for the sport was evident in the way he spoke, and you found yourself hanging on his every word.

As you moved around the garage, you noticed Joe watching you and Oscar with a hint of something in his eyes. Jealousy, perhaps? You pushed the thought aside, focusing on Oscar's explanations. He was easy to talk to and you enjoyed the behind the scenes tour you were getting.

Eventually, it was time for the race, and you rejoined Joe, taking a pair of headphones from him and putting them on to watch. You had a good time, and it was exciting to be there for the action even though both McLaren drivers missed the podium. You hung around the paddock a little longer, chatting with other US athletes who were there and filming some content for a vlog.

By the time you made it back to the hotel, it was later in the evening, and you were starving. Heading towards the bistro in the lobby, you spotted someone waving at you from the corner of your eye. Oscar was sitting at a table by himself, eating dinner.

“Hey,” you said as you approached him.

“Hey,” he replied, “hungry?”

You sunk down into the chair across from him, stealing a menu from a nearby table.

“You did great today,” you praised and he shrugged.

“It was whatever,” he said neutrally. “No hardware to bring home.”

“Well I still thought it was impressive,” you said.

“That is all I was hoping for,” he said genuinely and you felt your cheeks warm at Oscar's words, a flutter of excitement in your stomach. The waiter came by to take your order, and as you chatted over dinner, you found yourself increasingly drawn to Oscar's quiet charm and dry wit.

"So, what's next for you after this race?" Oscar asked, taking a sip of his water.

"Well, I've got a few more interviews lined up here in Austin, then it's back to New York," you replied. "What about you? Where does F1 take you next?"

"Mexico City," he said with a small smile. "Not quite as glamorous as Austin, but should be a good race."

As you continued talking, you couldn't help but notice how easy conversation flowed between you two. Time seemed to fly by, and before you knew it, the restaurant was starting to empty out.

"I should probably head up," you said reluctantly and Oscar stood up, holding out his hand to you.

“Let me walk you up,” he offered and you took his hand, letting him lead you towards the elevators. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” you said looking over at him.

He paused for a second before asking. “Is there something going on between you and Joe?”

“Mutual attraction,” you answered amused. “Nothing has ever come of it, but we don’t see each other a ton.”

“So he wouldn’t be mad if I kissed you right now?” He asked, taking a step closer to you and you thanked god that you were alone in the elevator.

“He probably would,” you admitted. “But I wouldn’t.”

That was all the confirmation he needed and he closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours. You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you as you deepened the kiss. Exploring his mouth, you gasped as one of his hands gripped your ass right as he bit down on your bottom lip. The doors opened as you reached your floor, and you dragged Oscar through the hall and to your room.

Swiping the card, the door swung open and Oscar was back on you in a minute.

As Oscar pressed you against the closed door, his lips trailed down your neck, sending shivers through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you let out a soft moan. The heat between you was palpable, months of tension finally breaking.

Oscar's hands roamed your body, caressing every curve as he kissed you deeply. You tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. He pulled back just long enough to yank it over his head before capturing your lips again.

You pushed off the door, guiding Oscar towards the bed without breaking the kiss. As the back of his legs hit the mattress, he sat down, pulling you onto his lap. You straddled him, grinding your hips against his as his hands slipped under your shirt.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your skin, his accent thick with desire.

"More than okay," you breathed and he lifted your shirt over your head and he attached his mouth to the top of your chest, sucking harshly to mark you. Just as your fingers traveled down to his waistband, someone knocked on the door filled the room. You pulled back from Oscar, hoping that the person would just go away, but they didn’t.

“I’ll be back,” you muttered, sliding off his lap. Not bothering with a shirt you yanked the door open, irritated. You did not expect to see Joe Burrow standing there.

His eyes darkened as he took in the state you were in, no shirt, flushed lips, messy hair.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner but clearly you are busy,” he said coldly and you flinched.

“Clearly,” you retorted, and his lips pressed into a firm line. Just as you were about to shut the door, you heard Oscar coming up behind you. It felt like the room temperature dropped another 10 degrees with the icy look that crossed Joe’s face.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he bit out and you rolled your eyes.

“This is not any of your business,” you said.

“Are you just not into me?” He whined. “I thought we had something, but all he had to do was talk with his pretty little accent, and you dropped your panties.”

Oscar snorted from behind you as you tried to hold back a giggle.

“You know I have a thing for you,” you said as you looked into his sad puppy dog eyes. “It’s just complicated with you.”

“How?” He demanded.

“We run in a lot of the same circles professionally,” you said. “Oscar is rarely even in the US so very no strings attached.”

“I don’t like it,” Joe said crossing his arms.

“Just let him in,” Oscar said from behind you and you looked over your shoulder, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Let him in, I don’t mind sharing,” he said nonchalantly before turning to move back to the bed.

You stood there, stunned for a moment, trying to process Oscar's words. Joe's expression shifted from anger to surprise, then to a mix of curiosity and desire.

"Are you serious?" Joe asked, his voice low and husky.

You looked back at Oscar, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes dark with want. He gave a small nod, a smirk playing on his lips.

Your heart raced as you considered the implications. The thought of being with both of them sent a jolt of excitement through your body. You bit your lip, weighing your options for a split second before making a decision.

"Come in," you said to Joe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe stepped into the room, his eyes never leaving yours as you closed the door behind him. The tension in the air was palpable as you stood between the two men, feeling their heated gazes on your half naked body.

You could feel the electricity in the air as Joe slowly walked towards you. You were caught between two dangerously attractive men, and the thought made your heart race.

Oscar watched with a smirk on his face as Joe stood in front of you, his eyes raking over your body. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer for a kiss.

His lips were soft but urgent against yours, his tongue quickly seeking entrance into your mouth. You responded eagerly, losing yourself in the passionate kiss.

"Isn't this nice?" Oscar's voice interrupted from behind you, making both you and Joe jump. He chuckled at your reaction before moving closer to join in on the kiss.

Your senses were overwhelmed by the feeling of two sets of lips on yours at once, their hands roaming over every inch of your body.

You moaned against Oscar's lips as Joe's hand found its way under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he pushed you back towards the bed.

You fell onto the soft mattress with Joe on top of you, his hands eagerly exploring every inch of your body as he kissed down your neck and chest.

Meanwhile, Oscar had stripped off his clothes and was now standing by the edge of the bed, watching with a lustful gaze.

Joe looked up at him and smirked before leaning back to whisper into your ear. "Do you want him too?"

You nodded eagerly as he moved to sit behind you leaving room for Oscar between your legs. Oscar fell down to his knees and helped you get your pants off, pulling your panties down with them.

“So wet for us sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing the inside of your thighs. You could feel Joe’s hardness pressing into your back as you leaned against him, whimpering as his fingers circled your nippled, his lips sucking on your neck. You cried out the first time Oscar flicked his tongue out and your hips bucked up, causing Joe to hold you down.

Your body was on fire as Oscar's tongue worked its magic between your thighs. Joe's hands roamed your body, teasing and caressing as he whispered dirty words in your ear. The combination of sensations was almost too much to bear.

"That's it, baby," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck. "Let us make you feel good."

Oscar's tongue circled your clit before moving deeper, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Your hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

Joe's fingers pinched and rolled your nipples, sending jolts of electricity through your body. You could feel his hardness pressing against your back, reminding you of what was to come.

"Oh god," you gasped, your hands gripping Joe's thighs as you felt yourself getting close. "I'm gonna-"

"Come for us, sweetheart," Oscar encouraged, and that’s all you needed to push you over the edge, your body locked up as you rode out your orgasm. As you came down from your high, Joe slid out from under you, standing next to the bed.

“Flip over baby,” he said and you obeyed, moving on to your hands and knees. “I’m going to fuck your pretty pussy now while you make Oscar feel good okay?”

Oscar moved to the head of the bed, leaning against the back, all bared out for you. Moving closer to him, you looked to him for one last confirmation, and he nodded, pushing you to drag your tongue from his base all the way to his tip. He hissed at the contact, leaning his head back as he tried to control his breathing. You toyed with him, slowly moving your tongue around but not putting him in your mouth completely. You were about to start another cycle of it when you felt a hand yank your head back with your hair, Joe’s mouth next to your ear.

“Stop being a brat,” he growled and your core throbbed at his dominance. He let go of you, and you enveloped Oscar’s head with your lips, making him groan out. Hollowing your cheeks, you started to bob up and down, making sure to move your tongue around his cock. His hand found the back of your head as he bucked his hips into your mouth, his breathing growing heavy.

You were so caught up in Oscar that you temporarily forgot about Joe, until you felt him push entirely into you. You cried out around Oscar, causing him let out a loud groan.

“That’s it baby,” Joe praised breathlessly as he quickened his pace. “Taking us both so well.”

Your body was on fire as Joe pounded into you from behind, his strong hands gripping your hips. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making it difficult to focus on pleasuring Oscar. But you were determined to make them both feel good.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking Oscar deeper into your mouth as you matched Joe's rhythm. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and muffled moans.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Joe groaned, his fingers digging into your flesh. "So tight and wet for us."

Oscar's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as he thrust shallowly into your mouth. "Fuck, y/n," Oscar groaned, his accent thick with desire. "Your mouth feels so good."

The dual sensations of being filled from both ends was overwhelming. You could feel yourself rapidly approaching another orgasm, and when Joe brought his thumb down to your clit, rubbing rapid circles, you toppled over the edge. Your cries sent Oscar over the edge, and you swallowed the cum he spurt down your throat right as you clenched around Joe, causing him to spill into you.

Slumping down, you winced as Joe pulled out of you, and Oscar pulled you up into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you as you tried to catch your breath.

“Are you alright sweetheart?” He asked softly and you gave him a weak smile.

“Never better.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay baby?” Joe said sweetly, kneeling next to you. Nodding, you let him scoop you into his arms and take you into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, and Oscar followed you in. The shower barely fit the three of you, but you definitely weren’t complaining, just happy to be sandwiched between two of the hottest men you knew.

“Will you both stay?” You asked hopefully, and neither of them said anything for a minute, eyeing each other warily. “Please?”

Joe broke first, eyes softening as he looked down at you. “Of course baby.”

Oscar nodded in agreement, stepping out to get a towel for you.

Once you were wrapped up you looked between the two men smirking. “I think… that orange is my favorite color.”

[spncvr]

scott street | remus lupin

summary: You return to your childhood home. Remus, your past love, unexpectedly returns. (based on the song scott street if that wasn’t obvious)

pairing: rockstar!remus lupin x fem!reader (3rd person oops sorry)

warnings: is this.... angst?? idk but hurt/comfort!! no use of y/n bc i cannot write that and not die a little, and my terrible english i'm sure i mixed all the tenses up here guys sorry im tryinggg,, this is lowk cheesy as hell i feel like... LMAO

a/n: i was sick so i didn't go to school tdy but i wrote this banger oneshot (its 2,4k words can u belive?? longest thing ive ever written in english)

masterlist

Walking Scott Street, feeling like a stranger

With an open heart, open container

THE SUN SUNK behind the many leaves which hung lazily on the branches. Through the old sheer curtains, the breeze blows faint whispers. The room is tinged with a familiar feeling; as if the concrete used that constructed this house is laced with memories from the past. The memories all flooded back like tides in a vast ocean, rolling back and forth as they brought back recollections of days gone by.

This was where she had grown up. The small backyard, the one with grass that had used to touch her ankles, was where she had first learned how to do a cartwheel. The bed, unchanged since she had left, felt almost ancient. She remembered the time she had faked a headache to skip school and had spent the whole day in it; back then the bed had felt like the only place she had wanted to live in. 

This was where she fell in love. So much in love, that she could not seem to pinpoint the exact moment she had ever fallen out of it. Maybe she never did. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore, at least.

The room’s walls are bare, and the old, washed-out wall once covered with posters of her favourite rock bands, no longer stands amongst the antique wallpaper. But his pictures were there. Their pictures. It seemed as though they were taunting her as it was propped up on the small table beside her bed. She picked one of them up, one that had stood out to her the most, and gazed at it.

She grew up without wealth. That was clear from the photo, where her top was much too big for her. Maybe it was her father’s; she can’t remember. But that hadn’t mattered to him. He had his arms around her shoulders and a smile on his lips akin to those she’d seen of him on posters and TV screens. She missed when he’d shown it just for her to see.

I’ve got a stack of mail and a tall can.It’s a shower beer, it’s a payment plan.

She tries to remember the moment or event that had taken place where they had taken the picture. And she almost forgets. It caused her to quickly put the picture back down, and a loud thud resonated between the calm sounds of home.

How could she forget? She felt like she was losing too much of herself. The part of herself that had lived here, one that had loved so freely and so openly, was slipping away so incredibly quickly—and suddenly she understood why her mother had cried when she chose a university so far off. She had almost forgotten a part of herself—a version of herself, that she seemed to have missed the most.

She sits down on the edge of the bed, still close to the picture she had put back down, only to look at it again, this time from afar. 

Of course, she remembers this moment. It had been her birthday, and he had taunted her mercilessly, telling her how she was just as old and frail as he was since she had always made fun of him for having his birthday at the start of the year and hers so close to the end. This may have contributed to the small roll of her eyes in the photo, but she was unable to control the grin that had painted itself on her lips. She can’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. Joking about being so incredibly old while being so young. She’d have given everything to be seventeen again if it meant being seventeen with him. 

Behind the picture, she had been staring at, was another one. And this time, she didn’t forget because, try as she might, she couldn’t.

She can’t seem to let go of the memory of the first time he kissed her, after a gig, a small one that he held with his mates at a pub not that far from here. She remembers how his skin was alight with adrenaline, and his gaze piercing. She couldn’t forget the moment when he told her that she had always been the one he loved not long after the picture, somewhere outside the pub, where the crisp chilly November breeze did not win against his palm that rested against her cheek.

Not long after, when he had brought her back to his, when he had kissed her silly. When she had realized that she really loved him too, and when the realization had hit her so hard, she had to loop her arms around his neck to keep herself upright, when there was only quiet in the house and all that could be heard was her gentle laughter and his sweet nothings, he had whispered in her ear so quietly, almost as if it were a secret, I would have been content to love you from a distance.

There, they were eighteen, fresh out of school and without the slightest idea where they’d go next. She had occasionally pondered what would have happened if they had more time, if they hadn’t both been so foolish, or, if they had both recognized how much it was they felt for one another sooner. But doing so would have made the parting even more painful than it already was. That was something she didn’t like to imagine.

She sighs and leaves the room. She needed to breathe.

Do you feel ashamed, When you hear my name?

ADMITTEDLY, REMUS DIDN'T think he’d ever come back. To Wales, yes, of course, it was his country (now more than ever). But not to this house. Not to her house. He couldn’t ever think straight, not when he knew that she was out there somewhere forgetting every minute detail about their past, and not when the love she’d once felt for him had long gone. But here he stands. 

He’s overthinking this. She probably isn’t even home.

She’s always told him when they were young that she wanted to leave.

One day, she had whispered to him in the darkness, when they were six, her favourite stuffed animal tightly tucked between her arms, one day, we’ll be far away. Remus can’t remember whatever caused her to tell him this at such a young age, with such strong conviction. He thinks it was probably something silly—a classmate’s admonition that some activities were simply reserved for boys. Or maybe it was because her parents had refused to let her get ice cream after she’d finished all of her green vegetables (all that suffering for nothing, really). But the mindset had continued to stick in her mind; an ember of determination that refused to fade away.

One day, she says again, when she’s thirteen because her teacher had failed her in her first ever physics exam, one day this won’t matter. I’ll go. I’ll leave. She had said it so firmly and so surely that it scares him sometimes. Because, really, they’ve never been anywhere but here—so sometimes, he asks his mirror, pretending that she’s staring back at him: What if it’s just the same? What if it’s just as bad?

One day, she says again, when she’s seventeen because she has been looking at universities far off and away from Wales. He’d watch her as she’d stare at the campus pictures on the brochures their school had offered and study the student’s bright wide smiles, and sometimes, he wondered if she ever pictures herself in those hallways, with a group of new friends—she’d be the smart one, the witty one. Sometimes, Remus wondered if she ever pictured him with her as she told him with the biggest smile on her face: One day, I’ll be there. Anytime soon.

She’s never liked it here. That much was always clear to Remus. Her books were the sole bright spot in her otherwise (as she put it) bleak existence. Always arranged in a way that only she could fully understand within the small bookshelf she had bought for herself with her first paycheck when she was saving up for Uni. Often, he wondered if she had brought them with her when she had left or whether she had left them here. No longer feeling the drag of her fingertips against its words. Abandoned by its only reader. 

And for a while, he had thought that he’d given her another reason to love the place they’d always called home. But he left her. So why, then, would she ever choose to stay? Books could only last for so long.

Just knock, he curses to himself. Say hello to her parents. Tell them that you wanted to see how they were doing. 

And just when he’s about to finally get it over with, the door opens.

And she’s there.

She looks different. Hair cut short and brushed neatly. Her clothes fit her nicely. It feels kind of jarring. He doesn’t really know what to expect. He’d been half-expecting to see the girl who had her hair always tied up in a ponytail that didn’t do much, with the amount of hair that was always falling out of it or the girl who wore oversized band shirts that belonged to her father, along with the sneakers she’d been using ever since her feet had stopped growing—the girl who was so full of life it felt nearly impossible not to love her. It was silly, really. Of course, she’d changed. It’s been four years. 

“Remus?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing, “What’re you doing here?”

He opens his mouth and closes it again. What was he doing here?

“I’m—” he starts but pauses for a while to come up with an answer, “I didn’t know you still lived here.”

“I don’t,” she says, plainly.

“Oh.” he breathes, she’s always been forward, “Well, I’m here for holiday.”

“Yeah . . . yeah me too.”

He rocks on the heels of his foot back and forth, “I just— wanted to know how your parents are doing.”

She purses her lips, “Oh. Well, Dad’s doing alright, I bought him a bunch of LPs—some of them yours, actually. And Mum’s still trying to get used to me being back here. She’s cooked a thousand meals.”

“That’s good to know,” he nods, smiling, because sometimes, she has no idea the effect she has on people. “I’m glad they’re alright.”

“How’ve you been?” she inquires, “Heard you’re not doing too bad in your band thing.”

He laughs softly, “It’s been alright.”

She smiles, for the first time he’s talked to her, and shakes her head softly, “Modest as always. Send the lads my love.”

“I missed you,” he tells her. And it spills from his tongue so quickly, before he could even think about it. She needed to know, somehow, that he couldn’t shake her off his mind. He played for her, wrote for her and of her. And sometimes, when he woke up in the middle of the night he swears he could feel her shadow brush his hand, he hoped and prayed to whatever God that was making him feel so incredibly homesick, that she’d been listening to the songs he’d written.

He could only hope that she’d understand the undertone of his words.

She looks at him with this look that seems to pierce through time, reaching back into the past, unwanting to let go. Then, there was this beat of silence; one long enough for him to hear everything that had been left unsaid.

She looks at him, her honey-laced lips slightly parted. “Do you want to come in?” She sounds hesitant as she steps aside, letting him through.

He nods as he follows her in.

The house felt achingly familiar, yet everything felt and seemed different. The walls were the same colour, and the couch that had always looked somewhat old still stood in the exact same place it had four years ago, with new cushions adorning it. The air felt thicker. She always had that effect on him, he supposes.

“Tea?” she offers, a smile playing on her lips, as she leads him into the kitchen.

“Always,” he replies, trying to keep his voice steady.

She turns her back to him to make tea and he feels like he’s missing her all over again. He’s watching her move, taking the tea kettle and suddenly he’s sixteen again, when he’d brought James, Sirius and Pete here because they’d had run into trouble with the police—well, admittedly, it was just James and Sirius, but the four boys had never failed to stick together—and the first thing she’d asked them when she saw all four of them at her doorstep late at night is if they’d like some tea.

“How long are you staying?” she asks, back still turned. “A few weeks,” he says, “Got a bit of a break before the next tour.”

When she handed him a cup, he noticed how even her arms and the tips of her fingers had changed. She looks good, beautiful. 

“So, how’s life been?” she asks, taking a sip.

“Busy,” he replies, “Touring, recording, writing. It’s a lot, but it’s what I love.”

“I’ve been listening to your music,” she admits when he sips her tea. It’s exactly how he likes it. “It’s good, Remus. Really good.”

Remus looks down at his shoes, “Thank you,” then, “I’m sorry.”

She frowns, “What for?” “For leaving,” his voice, barely a whisper, “for everything.”

“Oh, Remus,” she sighs as she puts her cup down on the kitchen counter, “no, you had to go. It was your dream—I mean, look at you. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ve missed you,” he says again. Because she had smiled at him the same way she did all those years ago in that pub.

And this time, she says it back.

They spent the rest of the day talking and, at times reminiscing, catching up on their lives, and it felt like no time had passed, like they were the same two kids who had believed in forever. As the sky turned dark, and the light from the lamp in the living room spilt against the floors of her house, she had looked at him—that same look she had always given him five, six years ago before asked him, quietly:

“Will you stay?”

Remus smiles, his heart full, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Anyway, don’t be a stranger

likes and reblogs r appriciated! <3 also i just learned what a taglist is,, so lmk if u wanna be included in my remus one :D

[fanfics-and-love]

Reclaiming a Legacy

Ghostface!Amber Freeman x reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood

Word count: 4k words

Summary: You knew someone was behind the new ghostface kills, but you could have never guessed it was your girlfriend, and that the reason behind everything was you, and your past

Request: Can you write something with ghost face amber x reader. ask

A/N: I wanted to give my girl Amber a better motive bc she deserves it✨

masterlist

You knew your girlfriend was a bit of a bitch sometimes, but never a murderer. Sure, she was rude and probably lacked common decency, but when you two were alone, she was kind and sweet.

There was no way she could be ghostface.

And that was what you told Mindy, after the third time that day in which she had questioned you about Amber.

“Mindy,” you said, exasperated. “I love you. I really do, but if you keep insinuating my girlfriend is a killer I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I’m not,” Mindy said, in a tone that told you she was actually aiming at that, toeing the question but not saying it out loud. “I’m just saying, out of all of us…”

“It can also be the nerd obsessed with horror movies who’s related to one of the legacies,” you shot back. “Or the big sister that has suddenly come back after years of no contact. It can be anyone.”

“Sure thing,” Mindy said, rolling her eyes. “But if anyone would want to kill Wes…”

“No one would want to kill Wes,” you said, slamming shut your locker. “He was a good kid. No one held grudges against him. He was chosen because life isn’t fucking fair.”

You cleared your throat when you noticed kids around the hall staring at you. Great, you were going around school screaming about the unfairness of life; as if you needed people to suspect you and your group of friends more.

“Okay. Sorry,” Mindy said, putting a hand on your shoulder. You almost shook it off, still pissed off at her, but with everything that was going on you weren’t sure who could be the next victim, so instead you hugged her.

“I’m sorry too,” you said, pulling away. “It’s just— everything is too stressful. I can’t stand it.”

“I get it,” she said. “I’m sorry. I just want to discover who the fucker is so we can all be safe.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m gonna hang out with Amber and help her with the party, so I’ll see you later. ‘Kay?”

“Okay,” she kissed your cheek. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“Stop fucking in my couch, horny fuckers,” Amber said, pushing two kids away from said couch.

The party was in full swing, almost everyone from school within Amber’s house walls. You thought of Wes, and how he’d take people remembering him with a party. He would have probably hated it, but it had been Amber’s idea, and it was hard to convince her not to do something once she had put her mind to it.

“Hey,” you said, glad you had finally found your girlfriend. It was hard to miss her, considering her attitude filled every room she was in, but parties like the ones she threw were so overwhelming even she could easily disappear in the crowd.

“There you are,” Amber smiled, shortening the distance between the two of you. She rested the red cup in her hand on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around you, nose caressing your neck. “Mm… I’ve missed you,” she said, pulling away to give you a kiss.

“You just saw me,” you giggled, standing on your tiptoes to give her another kiss. She smiled, pulling you even closer to kiss your cheek.

“What? Can’t I miss my girlfriend?” She raised an eyebrow, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Of course you can,” you said, wrapping your arms around her neck. She rested her head on your neck, kissing it softly. “What got you so happy?”

“I’m throwing a party and I have you in my arms,” Amber said, pulling away. There was a glee in her eyes that made your bones chill. “What else could I want?”

“A lot, actually,” you said. Despite how close you two were, it was still somewhat hard to hear her over the music coming from the kitchen. “A million dollars, three hundred puppies, world peace…”

“Nah,” she said, smirking. “I still prefer you.”

You blushed at that, kissing her again. “You dork.”

“A dork you love making out with.”

“That I do,” you smiled, tangling your hands into Amber’s hair as she put her lips on yours.

“You’re so hot,” she said, kissing your jaw. You moaned, tilting your head to the side to give her more space. “Fuck. I love you, baby,” she said. Her voice was sweet and velvety, just like how it was when she talked with you on the phone. You loved these moments where she was vulnerable; it made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you too,” you said. Amber was kissing your neck again, and you tightened your hold on her hair when she began to suck on your neck.

“You do?” She asked, pulling away. You were a little taken back by the sudden movement. “You love me?”

“Wha— of course I do,” you said, looking into her eyes. There was something there, swimming with the glee in the brown waves of her irises, something that made you want to run away from her arms. Instead, you pulled her closer. “I love you.”

“Even if I was the killer?” You tensed, trying to step away from her. She shook her head, dragging your body into hers. “Would you?”

“What the fuck, Amber?” You asked. Mindy’s voice came into the front of your mind; Do you think your girlfriend is capable of killing someone? “Are you for real?”

“Of course not,” Amber said, kissing your forehead. She sighed in anger when she noticed you were still tense. “Relax, babe. I’m just fucking with you.”

“Don’t joke about things like that, Am,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

“Jesus,” she said, stroking your back. “Don’t be such a bitch. I was just playing.”

“Let’s just drop the subject, alright?”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Amber said. She was swaying you softly, and the motion was helping lower your frantic heartbeat. “Would you?”

“Uh?” You raised your head.

“Would you still love me if I was the killer?”

“Fucking hell, Amber.”

“Would you?” She repeated. You remembered those random questions she would sometimes ask, out of the blue— would you still love me if I was a worm? Would you still love me if I took shits the size of cars? Would you stay with me if I lost all my teeth?

But that question… it felt different somehow. Like a test you weren’t even aware you were taking.

Would you still love her if she was ghostface?

“Of course I would still love you,” you said, hoping it was all just one of those times she would ask stupid questions.

She smiled, all perfectly lined white teeth popping out in glee. You were taken aback by her happiness, and even more when she pulled you into a passionate kiss. It left you breathless. When she moved away, you could still see the happiness dancing in her face. She looked like a kid that had gotten away with stealing a cookie from the kitchen while their parents weren’t watching.

“Oh, look,” she said, moving away from you. You were momentarily confused at the loss of her warmth. “Tara is here.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

The phrase “Welcome to act three” changed your life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you thought as you hid from your girlfriend, Liv’s blood still fresh in your face. You had plans for the future, in which you moved into the city with Amber, and graduated college, and then got a nice job and got married. You couldn’t have planned for this. Who would?

Amber was ghostface. And you had been too blind to see the truth. If you made it out alive, you knew Mindy would never shut up about it.

How could you have been so goddamn stupid?

“Y/N.”

You turned to your side, seeing Sam kneeling beside the sofa, hiding away from Amber as she dragged someone into the kitchen. Sam raised her hand and gestured for you to go with her, and you did without even thinking. When you reached the older girl, you grabbed her arm, looking into her eyes.

“Fucking hell,” you said. You couldn’t even blink; it felt like your eyelashes had been glued to your face.

“Sh,” Sam whispered, moving closer. You could see her hands were shaking as she looked around. A gunshot was heard, followed by a ringing so deafening you closed your eyes as you covered your ears, cradling your face in your hands. “Fuck.”

“She killed someone else,” you said, still trying to wrap your mind around how she meant ghostface and also Amber.

“Ri—” Sam took a deep breath. “Richie. I— I heard his voice right before— before she—”

“Fuck,” you said. “Sam…”

“Y/N,” Amber called from the kitchen in a singsong voice. “Baby, where are you?”

Sam put her hand over your lips, pulling you closer into the sofa, as if it would magically cover the two of you. You saw Amber enter the living room, wearing the infamous ghostface robe. A chill went down your body at the sight of the blood on her face.

“Baby—”

Tara appeared then, hitting Amber with one of her crutches. Sam went quick into action, getting up and kicking away the gun that had fallen on the ground.

“Bitch,” Amber said, grabbing a handful of Tara’s jacket and pushing her away. You ran towards the girl, helping her sit up. Tara had fallen face first, and it looked like she had broken her nose, judging by the blood running down her chin.

“Fuck you,” Sam said, grabbing Amber and throwing her to the ground. She eyed the gun the same time Amber did, but you knew Sam was cursed; she had pushed Amber right into where the gun was.

“Not so fast, bitch,” Amber said, gun in hand. Sam moved to stand in front of Tara, and all you could do was stare at your girlfriend. “Baby,” she said, turning to look at you. “Come here.”

“Am—”

“Come here,” she repeated, voice sweet. You could see her finger, pressing harder onto the gun’s trigger. If you didn’t move fast, she was going to shoot Sam.

“Okay,” you said, raising your hands. You walked towards Amber, allowing her to grab your arm and turn you around, pushing you into her body.

“Ah. Much better,” she smiled, kissing your cheek. “Now we just have to wait for the bitch to show up. I’m guessing she’s close, right, Samantha?”

You saw Sam’s hand hold tighter on her phone. “How do you know about Sidney?”

“Oh, honey,” she laughed. “If Sidney is anything, it is predictable. I’m guessing she has already figured out whose house is this, and is coming with Gale to save the day, as always.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Tara said. Blood was still dripping from her face, and you were thankful when Sam held her; she looked like she was going to pass out.

“Haven’t you heard, Tara?” Amber asked. She was pushing you away from them and towards the stairs, her grip on your shoulders so hard you knew it would bruise. “We all go a little mad sometimes.”

“Fuck you,” Tara said. You admired her— she could barely stand still yet she was facing off a killer with a gun in hand; you, instead, did nothing as she manhandled you around the house. If only you could do something to stop her…

“Fuck me?” Amber laughed. “You little shit. I kept you alive and this is how you repay me?”

“Should’ve killed me,” Tara said. The girl looked terrifying, with a bloody mouth and eyes opened wide.

“Okay,” Amber said, aiming the gun towards Tara. You watched as her finger pulled the trigger, and didn’t think twice before slamming your body against her, pushing her into the ground. The bullet hit the ceiling instead of Tara’s forehead. “What the fuck?”

“Run!” Sam said, rushing towards your side to pull you up. With your help, she carried Tara upstairs, where you hid in one of the guest rooms.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. You were leaning against the door, breathing fast. “I can’t believe— fuck.”

“How are you?” Sam asked, always the protector.

“How am I? Look at Tara. I think she’s got a concussion.” Sam turned around to see her sister lying on the bed. She was resting on the side, and even though her nose had stopped bleeding, she still looked too out of it. “We should hide her,” you said.

“What?”

“We can’t stay here,” you said. You could hear the front door opening, and Amber screaming. What the hell was she doing? “She’s going to come looking for us. Tara can barely move. She needs to stay somewhere hidden.”

“She needs a fucking hospital,” Sam said, harshly.

“Yeah, but she can’t really get help until we stop Amber. She might kill the people in the ambulance.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded, swallowing hard as she looked at her sister. Running a hand through her hair, she looked around. Soon enough, your eyes met. “The closet,” you said at the same time.

You heard gunshots, followed by a door being slammed shut. You looked at Sam, and took a deep breath. “Take care of Tara.” You ran downstairs, closing the guest room’s door behind you. You hoped Sidney and Gale were okay, and that everything was over. Instead, someone dressed in a ghostface costume greeted you on the last step, making you almost fall.

“Hello, Y/N,” ghostface said. He was using a voice changer. “Fancy seeing you here.” Ghostface pushed at your legs, making you trip. When the person grabbed you by the waist and pushed into their chest, you knew immediately who it was.

“Amber,” you said. You felt tears in your eyes as you walked into the kitchen. Richie —holy shit, Richie was the other ghostface— was holding down Sidney. When he saw her, he threw her another piece of rope.

“Tie her up and go find Samantha,” Amber said. Without even looking at you, she tied your hands together.

“I’m fucking trying,” Richie said. The rope in his hand was being wrapped around Sidney’s hands. What the fuck were they doing?

“Jesus, you’re useless,” Amber said, taking off her mask. “I’ll fucking do it. Go find that bitch before she ruins everything.” Richie nodded, but still stayed until Sidney’s hands were tied. Only then did he leave, pushing the woman into Gale’s body. You followed shortly after, falling into the two injured girls.

“You won’t win,” Sidney said. You were momentarily surprised by her calmness, but of course, she was Sidney Prescott; she had probably gone through worse at the hands of ghostface and survived to tell the tale; this was probably a normal Tuesday night for her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Amber said, raising her gun.

“You never win,” she went on. “You think you do, then you make some mistake and it all goes to shit. I’ve seen it happen before, four times. It’s better if you just untie us and let us call the police.”

“I’m gonna win,” Amber said, moving closer to her. “I’m going to fucking win, okay?”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Gale spoke. It petrified you how scared she sounded. Was this really the way you died? “You could be the first ghostface that doesn’t die. I could write about you.”

“And what? Call me the bitch that killed your ex-husband while I rot in prison?” Amber laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You really want your girlfriend to see you die?” Gale asked. You were taken aback by her words. Of course she would go for manipulation, she was a writer after all. It surprised you when you saw Amber hesitate, lowering her gun slightly as she looked at you with dark brown eyes.

“I’m doing this for her,” she smiled then, all doubt cleared from her face.

“Ah, so that’s your motive,” Sidney said, sounding annoyed. “Love. I think that’s a new one.”

“You shut your fucking mouth,” Amber said, aiming the gun back at Sidney.

“Here she is,” Richie said in a singing voice. You heard struggles, and then he entered the kitchen, dragging Sam with him.

“Perfect,” Amber said. “What about Tara?”

“Passed out in the bed,” Richie said. Sam groaned in pain as she was pushed to the floor in front of you. “Tied her up and locked the door. Caught this one,” he kicked Sam on the stomach “trying to hide her.”

“Aw,” Amber said, in a mocking soft voice. “Aren’t you the perfect sister?” Richie laughed at her words, stepping away from Sam.

“Time for the big finale,” Richie said.

“Tara is tied up, then, right?” Amber asked. Richie nodded, a gleeful look on his face. “And Chad is gone too?”

“A bullet between the eyes,” Richie laughed gleefully.

“Good,” Amber said. The next second, she shot Richie in the head. All four of you stared in shock. Your ears ringed, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the loud gunshot or the sight in front of you. Richie fell to the ground, blood seeping out of his head and mouth. You almost threw up at the sight of his gray matter laying on the ground. “Now, the real finale,” Amber smiled, turning back to you. “Who wants to die first? Uh?”

“Me,” you said, sitting up straighter. It was about time you were the brave one.

“Oh, baby,” Amber said, chuckling softly. “No. No, you’re not going to die. You and I are going to survive, and we’re gonna be the final girls.”

“Jesus,” Gale said. “Are you out of your mind? All of this for… for what? To be the new Romeo and Juliet?”

“Romeo and Juliet die at the end, you dumb bitch,” Amber said. “No. This is about Samantha.”

“My father,” Sam said. Even though you couldn’t fully see her, the sadness was clear in her eyes. It wasn’t fair, all the guilt she would carry with her if she made it out alive.

“Yes,” Amber nodded. “Your father, your grandma… you have a pretty crazy family, Samantha. Once this is over, all we have to tell the cops is that you wanted to live up your father’s legacy. Once they took a look at your pills and therapist notes, there’ll be no questions about who’s the killer.”

“There’s always two ghostfaces,” Gale said.

“And the other one is right there,” Amber pointed at Richie’s body. “You convinced your boyfriend to kill those people as an act of love, and he did. Good thing I was there to stop you before you killed Y/N.”

Sidney laughed, looking at Amber with almost pity in her face. “And why would Y/N be Sam’s target? Just because? For this to work, it’d have to be Tara.”

“No, no,” Amber said, shaking her head. “You’re not taking everything into consideration.”

“We’ve been through this before,” Gale said. “You think you can outsmart us?”

“I’ve already done it,” Amber said. “Because I know something you don’t. Something that explains everything,” she shook her head, smiling. She looked crazed.

“Jesus,” Sidney said. “You’re even worse than Jill. Stop with the dramatics.”

“Y/N is Stu Macher’s daughter.”

“What?” Gale asked, looking at you. You felt as confused as she did.

“Amber, what the fuck are you talking about?” You asked.

“Stu is—”

“In an asylum,” Amber said. Something shifted in Sidney’s face, something that told you she already knew. “Locked up for years. I know what you’re gonna say,” she chuckled. “How could he have a daughter?” Amber kneeled down beside Sidney. “That’s what I told myself for months when I saw the papers. I thought, “but how? It’s not possible”, until I realized that it could be pretty easy to explain since Y/N’s mom is a psychologist.”

“What is with people in this town and leaving important documents just laying around?” You murmured.

“You can’t be serious,” Sidney said, interrupting you. “How…?”

“Why do you think she got fired?” Amber looked at you. “For sleeping with a patient. With Stu. C’mon, Sidney, I thought by now you were used to secret family members appearing out of nowhere.”

“So that’s it?” Gale asked. “You find some papers and you decide to start killing people?”

“No!” Amber said. You flinched at the scream. “No. Of course not. I had to check everything. This was too big to just say unless I knew for sure. So I investigated, and once I was sure, I searched for a partner online. Someone who would appreciate this plot. Someone who would know how important Stu Macher being alive truly was,” she eyed Richie, on the ground with blood slowly escaping his body.

“Plot? This isn’t a fucking movie!” Gale said.

“It will be, one day. The two daughters of the first Woodsboro massacre killers, facing off each other. Isn’t it perfect?” Amber turned to look at Sam. “Spoiler alert, you lose.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Sidney said. “You know the danger you’re putting her in? People are going to chase her like they will with Sam.”

“But Sam doesn’t have me,” Amber said. “I’m always going to be there to protect Y/N. Always.”

“Not if I kill you,” Gale said. Within a second, she was up, taking advantage of the surprise movement to throw Amber to the ground. Sidney got up next, grabbing a knife to cut the rope, and Sam, to your surprise, ran out of the kitchen and upstairs. You watched everything unfold before your eyes landed on the gun that had once again fallen.

“Stop!” You screamed, gun in hand as you pointed it at the three women. 

Amber had Gale by the hair and Sidney had the knife in her hand, raised to stab Amber in the chest.

“Baby,” Amber said, pushing Gale into Sidney’s body. “Lower the gun.”

“Y/N,” it was Sidney this time, looking at you hesitantly. As if you were going to shoot her. Were you? “Don’t listen to Amber. You can’t be sure.”

“I would never lie to her,” Amber said. She turned her face to look at you. “You know I wouldn’t. You know it, baby. I’ve told you nothing but the truth.”

Your hands shook, but you didn’t lower the gun.

“I love you,” Amber said, in that soft voice you only heard late at night, head pressed on her neck while she ran her hands through your hair. “I’ve done this for you, so you could be the new Sidney— so you wouldn’t have to live under the shadow of Samantha.”

“Am…”

“She’s lying,” Gale said. “Once this is over, the moment you do something she doesn’t like you’ll be next.”

“I’d never hurt her,” Amber said through gritted teeth, grabbing Gale by the shirt. “I’ve done nothing but take care of her.”

You knew your time was running out. Sam had probably opened the guest room upstairs already, and once she was done checking in on Tara, she would come back, more than likely with a weapon. She would be ready to kill Amber, and Sidney and Gale will help her.

Did you want them to kill her? Was it an honor reserved just for you?

Were you going to kill everyone but Amber, and save her?

You weren’t sure, not as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready for your next move. Still, you pulled the trigger and hoped to god you had made the right choice.