#I’m sorry guys… no more reposting I promise

[olasketches]

I like this layout better

[snghnlvr]

don’t test me. / park sunghoon

౨ৎ ## i've never felt this before, i can't hide it, my head is spinning, crazy park sunghoon x fem reader!

synopsis: your test on your best friend decided to have your friendship to the next level.

includes: 3.4k words | childhood friends to lovers | inspo was actually the song brought the heat back because they’re all delusional, like look at the lyrics — actually | lyrics mentioned x2 !! | sunghoon is a hopeless romantic | both of them are bold with their actions el oh el.. | oh taesan BND mention ^3^ | ever after high mentioned !!

extra: actually am back from the dead i’m very sorry LOL | the whole romance: untold album gave me me inspiration to write this.. | hot girl activities of being an enhypen stan <3 | ALSO am redoing my tag list since i’m back after a hot minute, lmk if u wanna be apart of it <3 | love u chiptole pls sponsor me <3

likes, comments, and reposts are appreciated! <3

[below the cut]

what are we doing here at the mall?” sunghoon stares ahead, seeing multiple clothing stores. he sees groups of girls going in and out of them while holding multiple shoppings bags. he sighs, already depicting himself holding bags for you as you go shopping.

“prom shopping, duh.” you proudly stated. your eyes brighten while eyeing each attractive store. 

“what’s the point of going to prom when you don’t have a date?” immediately your mood shut down as sunghoon slammed fact at your face while maintaining his blank stare. he was right, you don’t have a date, like an actual date. your last minute plan was to go with your childhood neighborhood best friend, platonically because disappointingly all of the hot guys in your school got dates. 

“you’re literally my date sunghoon.” you rolled your eyes and looked at sunghoon who seemed to have reddish cheeks. he looked away before you can turn to him, blocking his red cheeks from being seen.

you snickered, knowing that he is embarrassed since sunghoon doesn’t have a date either from his school. well, he rejected all of them. but that confused you more, he rejected all of the girls that asked him out but he didn’t mind going to your prom as your date. you don’t care now because you have a purpose to go prom-dressing.

“ooh windsor seems cute~” you skipped towards the store that caught your eye first. “woah..” your eyes sparkled at the glitterly lavender dress that has a slit on the right side of the leg and have gems around the chest area. this was your dream ever since you were little, going prom dressing and imagining yourself wearing your favorite dresses with your prince charming. 

but it had to be with sunghoon — nothing wrong with sunghoon but he was someone you didn’t expect for him to say yes.

i mean, both of you pinky promised ever since babies that you two would marry each other if both of you stayed single. you wondered if he remembers the same thing.

sunghoon stayed at the corner of the store, eyeing your excited self while scanning the various dresses in front of you as he held your bag after volunteering. he wonders what type of dresses you prefer.

he imagines you in some of the dresses he eyes wander on.

you insisted to keep your bag onto you but he persisted until you give up. his excuse was to “roam freely” — you dead looked at him in the eye replying that it’s bullshit.

you didn’t want to argue with him any further first thing you entered the mall so you let him deal with whatever.   

sunghoon doesn’t know what made him possessed to say yes to you when he received your text. he didn't even pay for prom, he was uninterested, but the thought of going with you - as his date, didn't seem too bad.

he remembered himself blushing crazy when he abruptly received your text message when he was hanging out with his friends. sunghoon took a pause in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at his screen with wide eyes. he slowly turned around and started running towards home, abandoning his startled, questioned friends. they heard silence except his shoes hitting the concrete floor.

two hours later, he replied with “sure” to remain nonclatant but little did you know his face was a blushing mess, feet in cold sweat to the fact he had to wear socks in bed, and his heart rapidly beating to the point he had high blood pressure. his mind was occupied onto you as he stared at your bedroom from across his window, wondering what you’re up to.

his parents were so confused as to why their son was acting this way. he was on cloud 9 when you asked him out but felt a bit sad when you mentioned to go together with plantonic feelings. 

you walked towards sunghoon with shrugged shoulders and a frown that made sunghoon be concered of your expression. “what happened?” sunghoon looked down at you, uttering a deep tone to indicate his concern. he was still seeing your pouty lips and your eyes being tight. “none of them are what i am looking for.”

maybe you’re acting like a spoiled child who cannot find their favorite toy but you believed that prom was the most important event in your life. you wanted to find your perfect dress.

then you opened your eyes, being face to face to sunghoon’s chest which made you feel uneasy at the unfamiliar appearance.

you then realized how close you are with sunghoon so you took a step back.

you sighed, looking up at sunghoon. “it’s fine we have multiple stores.” your motivated smile made sunghoon chuckle.

you left the store, then sunghoon behind you.

“that green looks like a swamp.” “that’s too glittery.” “too long.” “i look like a child of divorce with this dress!”

“i guess you’re picky.” sunghoon teased, ruffling your hair as he followed you exiting the last store. you still had an unsatisfied expression.

you didn’t react to his gesture since it was normal between the two of you. you didn’t mind sunghoon messing up your hair.

sunghoon felt bad and fixed your hair carefully, eyeing each strand of hair being back in the right place originally.

you looked from left to right onto where to explore, slightly giving up but not fully. you wanted to go home already and swallow yourself in your favorite blanket, blasting the AC on high volume while watching ever after high.

countless attempts of finding the right dress for you was too difficult. you’re starting to understand why people buy their dresses months before, you believe that the good batch of dresses were already brought before and you started to panic if you can even find one. 

“there’s nothing wrong with being picky..” you murmured, walking around in hopes another store caught your eye. “of course,” sunghoon responded. he continued. “you should keep your standards high, never settle for less.” you lightly scoffed, turning your head towards sunghoon with a mischevious expression. “is that why you’re still single?” 

you’ve always been curious of sunghoon’s standards are since he remains single throughout your high school years. middle school doesn’t count. his last relationship was a fail because he lost feelings for the girl.

yes, you admit he is shamelessly handsome and he knows that but have a personality of a delicate cat. which makes you laugh once in a while.

you still think of sunghoon as a child in an adult body.

sunghoon seems to be taken aback of your question. he tilted his head, thinking about it. “well…i never thought about it like that. i was gonna be more busier with each year, i’m not gonna have time for relationships.” sunghoon confessed nonchantly since it wasn’t a big deal for him. you nodded, understanding where he was coming from. 

“then..have you liked anyone before?” you questioned, also curious as you eyed the store’s figuerines on display. “that’s cute..” you whispered to yourself before looking back at sunghoon with a smile, waiting expectantly.

sunghoon’s heart jumped. he shivered when he felt the cold air passing behind him, glancing at you to see if you’ve noticed but he was so grateful that you were distracted by some damn figuerines. 

he immediately looked ahead when you looked back at him, geez why can’t i answer?

“n-no.” he choked on his words. you decided to poke his holes further when you noticed how nervous he was. you can read your best friend pretty easily. “really?” you stopped walking which made him also stop. sunghoon turned to his right and he held his breath when you leaned closer to his face, eyeing him like a hawk to justify his truth. “do you like someone now?”

“yes.” he muttered, still staring at your eyes. seconds of staring at each other made your heart suddenly fluttered which was weird and out of the norm. you held in your breath when none of you pulled away yet, continuing to gaze upon each other.

you realized the position you were in, especially when sunghoon easily towered over you. you immediately back away, sunghoon now smirking at your sudden nervousness. “wonder who’s the unfortunate girl..” you gulped on your words.

“why are you single?” sunghoon asked, hands in his pockets as he started walking. you coughed, hands rubbing your tight chest. “e-erm,” you tried to find an excuse. “just like you.. i have other priorities.” you didn’t see the little frown sunghoon made at your response. you weren’t lying but at the same time you were telling the truth. dating felt like it could affect your daily routine and studies.

okay, maybe your best friend seem a bit too handsome for your liking. it’s weird. wait

“how about this store?” sunghoon pointed at a store that was near the exit. you sneaked a glance, interested by the pretty dresses on display. you decided to go. “sure let’s go.” trying to distract yourself on what happened earlier. 

now sunghoon was reflecting on himself and what happened earlier as well as he sat down, waiting for you to try on the dresses. he was frustrated, he wanted you. it has always been you, ever since both of you pinky promised as babies.

that relationship he had in middle school - yeah he thought the girl was pretty but it was only to perform a distraction to get rid of his feeling for you.

your extroverted personality intimidated him ever since growing up. he wonders what makes you fearless and mentally strong. in moments where you fell down countless from playing tag with him, you didn’t cry. oddly - you continued to play with tag despite having a bleeding knee.

but when you would see his displeased face, you would offer him a lollipop that you keep inside your book bag just for fun.

he still has the candy wrapper somewhere inside his drawers.

but you don’t know that. he wanted to know if you were feeling the same way. is it worth ruining the friendship? is there any hope to turn it into something intimate? something more? he’s craving a lot of answers. 

as you were adjusting the dress, your hands slowed down on your straps when you also questioned the same thing. then memories of you and sunghoon started replaying on your mind; where both of you were in his bed one summer night after having a bbq dinner from your parents, talking about your futures together — where the both of you have to be involved in each others’ futures; where sunghoon gives you his hoodie without any question whenever you’re cold, where you packed an extra lunchbox for sunghoon because he was craving your pork cutlets. the past, happy memories slowly transitioned to the memories where you’re now questioning your feelings on sunghoon.

where sunghoon wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him when the train was crowded with people. you felt his chin touch the top of your head. you remembered your heartbeat being in the same speed as the train was going and you were glad sunghoon couldn’t see your blush — where sunghoon offered you to sleep on his shoulder on the way home after hanging out together — where both of your hands would featherly touch each other in random times but immediately both of you let go and feel electric shocks all over the body. 

so you’re gonna put your feelings on the test.

“hoon!” you called out on his nickname. sunghoon immediately paid attention to you. “yeah y/n? what happened?” you scrunched your nose when you hear the concern on his tone. 

you huffed out a breath. “can you help me with the zipper please?” you questioned why your heart is already beating fast. you hear the footsteps coming closer to you and you swore your heart was gonna jump out of the ribcage. 

behind you, you slightly opened the curtain, to prevent not only revealing the dress to him but as well as not wanting to face sunghoon. you can feel his eyes glued onto your back.

sunghoon rolled his tongue inside his cheek, feeling unusual even though he’s childhood friends with you. he noticed your hands trying to zip up your dress.

he took a step closer to you, you shivered when you can feel his chest against your back and your breath lingering on your bare neck. you gulped at the intense silence engulfed by the both of you. 

“silly you.” he let out a slight chuckle. you can feel his slight smirk from behind you.

“just help me park.” you rolled your eyes at his teasing, hoping it’s something to ease the tension. 

“stop moving.” sunghoon hand was lightly placed on your waist which made you frozen. your eyes widened at the sudden touch. his eyes were focused on the zipper, his hands being gently so that he doesn’t hurt you. 

breathe y/n — breathe— 

shit.

you looked up from the ground to curiously see the scene with the mirror in front of you. the first thing was his figure, how his white shirt easily makes his body look good with his headphones around his neck. you can see his fluffy hair that you’re eager to touch. you see sunghoon’s tongue on the corner of his lips to indicate his concentration. your eyes slowly followed his hand, you eyed his watch — his hand on your waist. 

you suddenly wanna pass away. 

sunghoon sighed, “there.” you then immediately looked down to prevent any eye contact. goddamit y/n why are you so shy? 

“thanks.” you grabbed the curtain and shut the room in front of him, whining mentally at your shy self. you stared at yourself in front of the mirror, surprised at how red your cheeks are under the light.

sunghoon stood in front the curtain, surprised with his eyebrows furrowed but then his face relaxed into a soft smile before returning back to seat and waiting for you to reveal the dress to him.

him only. 

“so—“ he heard you through his headphones after some few minutes. you opened the curtain. “how do i do?” as sunghoon was pausing his music and taking his headphones off. you presented yourself wearing the dark red, sparkly dress, standing still and with a smile as you waited for sunghoon’s reponse. you smiled so hard, not containing your excitement that you felt while wearing the dress. it really made you feel like a princess. 

sunghoon stared at you for a couple of seconds then slowly looked down at your figure. how the dress was hugging your body, your curves were being emphasized, how it complimented your skin tone, god you were stunning. you literally looked like a goddess in front of him and he was willing to drop everything and pull you close just like earlier. sunghoon was utterly at a loss of words. his mouth wanted to spill out words but he was frozen.

what did you did do to him?

you caught him being speechless so you worried, forming a form. “i-is it not good?” you turned around to face the mirror in worry. 

but before you do it you heard him yell. “wait!” you paused. “it’s good. you look great.” your muscles relaxed after hearing sunghoon’s reassurance. you smiled, turning back around to face sunghoon. sunghoon was too shy to face you, looking away as he was gulping. 

“really great..” he coughed into his fist, clearing his throat. 

well that was good enough for you. 

“great!” you closed back the curtain to change back into your normal clothes. 

sunghoon cursed at himself mentally, hand coming to his head to massage his temples as he closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. he felt like this was torture.

as you’ve already bought the dress, both of you were hungry so you guys went to the food court.

“go find a table, i’ll get us something.” you frown at sunghoon’s suggestion. “no don’t pay for me. you’ve already gone through so much, it’s right if i pay for your meal.” you find your wallet through your bag that sunghoon is still holding for you. sunghoon shook his head, shutting down the zipper making you speechless. “no need it’s fine for me.” you insisted. “sunghoon-“ you whined.

sunghoon gave you a look that made you instantly sit down. “fine.” you rolled your eyes. sunghoon smiled as you followed his words, dropping the bags on the chair next to you. what a switch up.

you eyed sunghoon’s back disappearing slowly from your vision. you smiled when he headed to your favorite fast food place.

you were on your phone while waiting for sunghoon to come back. 

“y/n?” you looked up after hearing your name being called. both of you smiled — it was your classmate, taesan. you got out from your seat to hug him as taesan hugged you back tightly. “what are you doing here?” you asked him, going back to your seat.

“i went to the park with the guys.” indicating the basketball on the chair across from you and he turned his back, which made you see the bunch of his friends ordering from a different store. “i saw you sitting by yourself, are you also with your friends?” taesan smiled at you, also wondering why you’re here. 

“mhmm,” you nodded. “prom shopping.” taesan cursed. “shit i realized i have to do the same..” you giggled at his comment as taesan panicked a bit since it’s in a week. “good luck with that.” you saluted to him. “mhm thanks.” taesan smiled at your gesture.

“okay i gotta go and find a table for these hungry monsters. i’ll see you again.” taesan ruffled your hair, before leaving your table. “hey you’re gonna mess up my hair!” you playfully said, fixing your strands. “ugh my hair..” you commented to yourself.

a few seconds later, you’re startled when a plastic bag of food was placed in front of, rather harshly. 

you turned your head towards sunghoon when he pulled a chair next you and sat next to you with a serious expression. “who was that guy?” you’re confused at sunghoon’s question. 

“what guy?” your nervousness made you forget your memory. “why are you smiling to him like that?” 

did he watch the whole scene?

sunghoon kept staring at you, still maintaining a cold look that made you shiver. yeah, that’s the look that he is pissed at you.

you realized something. “park, are you jealous?” you eyed him which made sunghoon realize what he was doing and broke eye contact, letting out a puff of air.

but you are not letting it go until you got your answer. you leaned closer to him, tilting your head so he can look at you again but he’s resisting because he didn’t want to show that side to you. “mhmm are you jealous?” you asked annoingly, making sunghoon blush. you kept teasing him. he was covering his face with his hands but you wanted to see this scene unfold on you. “am not.” he muttered, making you laugh at how grumpy his voice was. “cmon, why are you jealous? hm?” you’re entertained.

he is envious that there are other guys who can make you smile and laugh.

you smiled as your hands were touching each of his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. sunghoon was pretty strong which made you struggle. 

“don’t test me.” sunghoon shot a glare after you removed his hands from his face. you gulped at the sight in front of you. “okay i won’t, i’m sorry.”you’re still smiling.

he crossed his arms, pouting. this wasn’t the sunghoon that you grew up with and you wondered how much he has grown up — and that you two aren’t kids anymore. 

“don’t worry about taesan, he has a girl.” you laid back to your seat, unpacking your chiptole bowl that sunghoon bought. sunghoon stayed silent, eyeing you unpacking the bowl with excitement that made sunghoon instantly forgive you but now he’s too embarrassed to speak to you. 

“uhm..” both of your heads turned to see a guy on your right side. the guy saw sunghoon’s grumpy face which made him gulp and nervous on what he was gonna say as you looked at him with a smile as an act of kindness. “i-i thought you’re pretty and i would like to ask if i can have your number?” the guy looked at you with sweaty glands all over his forehead, not daring to look at sunghoon or he will run away. you widened your eyes at the sudden confession.

“oh uhm-“

your bones became frozen when you felt one of sunghoon’s arms sneak around your neck, his fingers lightly touching your waist while his other arm was leaning on the table, eyeing the guy with apissed expression. he became close, too close when you felt his cheek be pressed onto yours.

he eyed the guy annoyingly, jaw clenched and eyes piercing through his body as you were a blushing mess and your heart fluttering too much. “she has a boyfriend.” sunghoon muttered, causing you to gasp lightly at his words. the way he said, felt like he really meant it.

you saw the guy panicked and apologized, running away from both of your visions. 

“cmon park, you scared the dude.” you turned to him as he removed his arm from your shoulder, leaning back to his seat. you were feeling bad for the guy but sunghoon didn’t feel bad.

“you didn’t decline.” sunghoon shrugged, making you wanna slap his shoulder at his egotistical self.

now that you’ve realized, you didn’t. 

“i-i..” you’re at a loss of words. you swear you’re gonna die in front of sunghoon if you get a heart attack. “right..” you muttered something that was not supposed to be aloud. but you didn’t notice, trying to calm yourself down.

sunghoon leaned closer to you, eyes staring at you as you saw him smiling, causing his fangs to be present. “i wouldn’t mind.”  

you realized where this was going and he indirectly confessed to you. sunghoon tilted his head to the side, entertained to see your blushing state. “i wouldn’t mind either.” his face dropped when you repeated the same thing to him without looking at him, coughing your nervousness out. 

both of your faces relaxed, smiling at each other, relieved that the both of you felt the same way towards each other. 

“so we’re gonna marry each other now?” sunghoon spoke, maintaining a slight smirk. he loves seeing you flustered like crazy. 

you’re surprised. “you’ve remembered?” sunghoon nodded proudly, playing the ends of your hair which made your heart beat even more crazy as if it’s not at its limit right now. 

“of course i remember, it’s you.” 

[eternalxvenus]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 1 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (angst version to my first birthday girl blurb) (title changed for series — previous title “birthday girl angst version”)

cw (for whole series): 18+, rafe x f!reader, mentions of drug use, angst, eventual smut, violence

wc: 0.6k

notes: honestly i’m thinking about making this particular blurb a series but i’m not sure though

You woke up on your birthday excited to get your day started. Your boyfriend Rafe told you the day before he would pick you up for brunch, and then you would spend the day doing whatever you wanted.

By the time you showered and were ready to go, your stomach was growling, prepared to have some delicious food. You checked your phone and saw the time read 10:45. Rafe said that he'd be here by 11:00.

30 minutes later, you hadn't heard anything from Rafe, so you decided to call him. Each of your calls went straight to voicemail. You were starting to get worried, so you decided to check social media and see if he may have posted anything. You clicked on Kelce's close friend's story and saw a party happening at his house. A few videos later, you saw one of Rafe doing coke off the table in front of him.

Your eyes start to water. He had promised you that he would stop doing drugs when you guys started dating. You knew it made him irritable and hard to be around. It also made him forgetful, which means he was probably high out of his mind somewhere and probably doesn't remember he promised to take you to brunch. Or the fact that it's your birthday.

You wipe the few stray tears off your cheek, careful not to ruin your makeup, before calling Sarah, inviting her and the pogues to have breakfast with you at your place. When you asked her about Rafe, she said she hadn't spoken to him and didn't know where he was.

-

The time was currently 10:22 pm, and you had just gotten home from your birthday dinner with your family. Rafe was supposed to be there too, but you had to lie and say he hadn't been feeling well. You could barely enjoy yourself. You still hadn't gotten so much as a text from him.

You slipped off your heels, but before you could make it up the stairs there was a ring at your doorbell. You opened the door to see Rafe standing there with flowers in hand.

"What do you want, Rafe?" You really didn't want to sit around and listen to his excuses.

"Baby, I'm sorry, really. Just please let me explain."

You scoffed but leaned against your doorframe, prompting him to keep going.

"Okay, so Kelce was throwing this party, and I wasn't going to go, but everyone kept messaging me saying I should at least swing by and everything since they hadn't seen me in a while. I went and it was supposed to be no more than 15 minutes, but things got out of hand..."

"Yeah Rafe, things got out of hand as in you stayed at the party and started doing fucking coke? Out of hand as in you got so high you didn't text me all day, on my birthday, while I'm worried sick about you?"

Rafe's eyes widened, obviously not expecting you to know about that. He outstretched his hand that was holding the flowers to you. "Baby I... I'm sorry. I can take you shopping to make up for-"

You smacked the flowers out of his hand and he flinched. Your voice was shaky as tears pooled in your eyes. "No Rafe! Money isn't going to fix this. Obviously, I'm not important enough for you to keep your promise. Getting high means more to you than being there for your girlfriend."

Before he could speak again, you slammed the door in his face and made your way upstairs even as he started to talk to you through the door before moving on to blowing up your phone. You blocked his number and went to bed, unsure of what was next for your relationship.

part 2

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 5

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2066 Click here for Part 4

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando stood in the lobby of the hotel checking his watch and rehearsing his lines mumbling to himself. A sleek black car parked outside was ready for their drive. Luckily he didn’t have to wait long before Y/N emerged. She looked stunning, even though she was only wearing some jeans and a semi-elegant black top but it complemented her complexion perfectly. Lando’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her. He approached with a warm, nervous smile.

“I’m sorry if I’m a bit underdressed,” she apologized with a low voice. “I didn’t expect you to ask me out, so I didn’t pack anything fancy.”

Lando’s smile widened and he shook his head gently. “You look gorgeous, Y/N. I’m just glad you agreed to going out with me.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing slightly after hearing the compliment. “You look great too.”

Lando stepped forward to open the car door for her and she slipped into the luxurious interior of the car. He quickly got in the driver’s seat and soon they were driving through the streets heading toward their destination.

The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the soft music playing on the radio. Lando kept sneaking glances at Y/N, stealing moments to admire her profile and the way the city lights danced on her face. Y/N, for her part, seemed content, occasionally turning to him with a smile that made his heart race.

The restaurant’s terrace that Lando had reserved for their table overlooked the city, offering a breathtaking panorama of the city below. “This is beautiful,” she said and admired the view. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Lando said, his gaze lingering on her. “I wanted tonight to be special.”

The waiter arrived to take their drink orders and soon they talked about everything and nothing - shared memories, future dreams and light-hearted banter. Each moment seemed to draw them closer and Lando found himself more captivated by Y/N with every passing minute.

“Speaking of quirks,” Lando began at some point, leaning in slightly, “Years ago I tried to impress my team with a homemade dinner.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh really? How did that go?”

“Well,” Lando said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “I thought I’d go all out and make a fancy pasta dish with some chocolate mousse for after but I got so carried away that I accidentally used salt instead of sugar in the dessert.”

Y/N chuckled, “That sounds like a disaster. How did they react?”

“They were polite at first,” Lando said, trying to keep a straight face. “But halfway through the meal one of the guys said, ‘Well, at least we know Lando can make us laugh.’”

Y/N laughed, imagining Lando in the kitchen with a confused look on his face. “Sounds like you’re quite the chef.”

“More like an accidental comedian,” Lando replied with a wink. “But if you ever want a taste test, just let me know. I promise to stick to the recipe.”

“Deal,” Y/N said with a smile. “And I’ll bring my own sugar, just in case.”

The moment was light-hearted and endearing and Y/N couldn’t help but feel even more charmed by Lando’s playful and self-deprecating humor. 

A little while later, while he was telling her about his early karting days, she took a moment to really look at Lando. She couldn’t help but think how he looked like he’d stepped out of a fairy tale. There was something almost magical about the way he carried himself. The sharp lines of his black pants served timeless elegance, while the white shirt accentuated his toned body. His hair was perfectly styled, every lock in place as if it had been sculpted by an artist.

He reminded her of a Disney prince, the comparison making her smile. He had that same kind of defined, classic appeal, a blend of charm and grace that seemed almost otherworldly and she was the lucky one to share this evening with him. 

What had started as a simple Meet & Greet for the sole purpose of making her son happy, had turned into something much more. She had come to the event knowing very little about Lando, only the little bits Noah got excited about and told her but he was a toddler, so how much could he really know? But now she was fascinated by who Lando was as a person.

She was surprised at how Lando’s passion, his down-to-earth nature and his genuine kindness had drawn her in so quickly. The more they talked, the more she found herself appreciating the real person behind the public persona. She was falling for more than just the image of the driver; she was falling for the person he was, the one with a great sense of humor, love and genuine care.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Lando met her gaze and Y/N realized that this was more than just an ordinary night. It was a magical moment and Lando was indeed her very own prince charming, making the evening feel like something out of a storybook.

“I have to tell you,” Y/N began at some point, “this is actually the first date I’ve been on since before Noah was born. It’s been a while, but tonight feels... special.”

Lando looked at her with genuine surprise. “I can’t believe no one has asked you out,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing, anyone would be lucky to spend time with you.” He meant every word he said but soon noticed the change in her demeanor. “I hope I didn’t upset you.”

“Oh god, Lando no,” Y/N tried to calm him down immediately, then took a deep breath, her gaze momentarily drifting to the city. “There’s something I’d like to share with you, if that’s okay.”

Lando nodded encouragingly, sensing the gravity in her tone. “Of course. I’m here to listen.”

“Noah’s dad…” Y/N hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I already told you he left shortly after Noah was born, he was just two months old. It wasn’t easy and I’ve been doing everything I can to raise him on my own. I guess I’m just a bit unsure about opening up to someone new, especially with Noah involved.”

Lando’s heart ached as he listened to Y/N’s words. He could sense the insecurity and vulnerability in her voice and he wanted nothing more than to reassure her that he was genuinely interested and understanding.

“I can only imagine how difficult that must have been for you,” Lando said softly. “I want you to know that I respect you immensely for how you’ve handled everything and for how much you care for him. The fact that you’re willing to open up and share this with me means a lot.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty but there was also hope. “It’s just that I’ve been so focused on protecting Noah and making sure he’s okay. I’d hate for him to get attached to someone else who’s going to leave and disappoint him.”

“I understand that completely but I want to be clear about how I feel. From the moment I met you and Noah I felt something really special. It’s not just about being interested, I’m here because I genuinely care and want to see where this can go.”

Y/N’s gaze softened and she took a small but relieved breath while Lando gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m serious about wanting to get to know you and Noah better. I understand that trust takes time and I’m more than willing to be patient and supportive. I genuinely believe there’s something here and I’d like to explore that with both of you.”

Just then he decided to share a small but - what he hoped - meaningful gesture. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, tapping the screen to show Y/N. It showed the photo from when they first met at the Meet & Greet.

“This has been my phone background from the moment you two left that day,” Lando said, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I have been thinking about you nonstop since then.”

She looked at the photo, then back at Lando, her heart swelling and with slightly shaking hands she pulled out her own phone, showing it to the young man sitting across from her who got a perfect look at the exact same picture on her device. “Looks like great minds think alike,” she giggled softly.

Once they had finished their meal Lando led Y/N to the edge where they stood side by side taking in the stunning view. He turned to her, his eyes reflecting the city lights. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?” he said, his voice low and soft.

“It is,” Y/N replied, her gaze fixed on the horizon before meeting his eyes. “Thank you for this night, Lando. It’s been absolutely amazing.”

Lando’s eyes were locked onto Y/N’s, his gaze intense and filled with an emotion that spoke volumes. The air between them was charged with a palpable energy. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from Y/N’s face, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

His eyes softened and he leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away if she chose. Y/N’s own heart raced as she felt the pull of his presence and slowly but surely her eyes fluttered shut. She tilted her face upward, her lips parting in anticipation.

Their lips met in a kiss that was both tender and electrifying. At first, it was a soft, lingering touch, a gentle exploration of what had been building between them. Lando’s lips were warm and reassuring against hers, his kiss a promise of all the words he hadn’t yet said.

Within seconds the kiss deepened, it became more urgent, more passionate. His hands moved to frame Y/N’s face, his fingers threading into her hair as he pulled her closer. The intensity of the kiss conveyed everything they had both been feeling but couldn’t quite put into words. Y/N responded eagerly, her hands grasping the front of his shirt, drawing him even closer. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the sensation of their lips moving together. 

When they finally parted, their foreheads pressed together, both of them were breathless, their hearts racing from the intensity of the moment. Y/N opened her eyes slowly, meeting Lando’s gaze with a look of pure happiness and love.

“That was…” Y/N began, her voice trembling slightly and she was unable to put the buzzing feeling in her stomach into words.

Lando smiled, his eyes shining with the same emotion and a soft smile on his features. “I’ve been wanting to do this the whole weekend.”

They stayed there for a few more moments, simply holding each other and enjoying each other’s presence until Lando gently took Y/N’s hands in his, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“So,” he started with a grin, “when you tell Noah about our date, how do you think he’ll react? Will he be thrilled to know his mom’s got a new boyfriend or will he just want to know if I’m bringing him a toy car next time?”

Y/N laughed, her eyes lighting up with amusement. “Oh, Noah’s definitely going to have a lot of questions, he’s been very curious about everything lately. I’m sure he’ll be excited but he might also want to know if you have any cool stories to share.”

“Well,” Lando chuckled, shaking his head, “I’ll have to make sure I have some good stories ready. Maybe I’ll even bring him a little something again next time. I have to make sure he still likes me.”

“You’re already his hero, so I don’t think you will have to worry about that,” Y/N replied smiling.

Lando’s gaze saddened slightly as he added, “I’m not looking forward to you two leaving tomorrow but I’ll be there to help you get to the airport. It’ll be nice to spend a bit more time with you before you two have to go.”

“That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Lando and we will find a way to make this work.”

_________

Click here for Part 6!

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @dramallama9 @hc-dutch @alana4610

[nutsackx]

POKÉMON X THE OUTSIDERS AU

info under images lol

if anyone reposts these like the cowboy or scientist au I’m deleting my whole account watch your bakc

I’m gonna preface this by saying I haven’t played or even really indulged in Pokémon for like… 7 years so forgive me if any of this is off or doesn’t make sense…

ANYWAY!!

Original gang is just the Curtis brothers. Ponyboy, after years of putting it off to put time into school, decides he’s finally ready to try being a Pokémon trainer (he’s a bit of a late bloomer, starting at 14 instead of ten…yikes). Usually, their father would’ve helped him on his journey….but he’s, dead, so. 

Darry agrees to help him, eventually Soda gets dragged along too because he’s worried Pony and Darry fighting 24/7 will ruin the experience for Ponyboy. And, Soda, being a Pokémon ranger, has a lot more knowledge than even Darry about how to safely go about this. 

First they come across Steve. Soda and him are already besties, of course. And they have kinda a rivalry going on where they are constantly tryin to one-up each other (all in good faith lmao). It’s not until Steve starts talking about how he started with Pokémon that Darry realizes just how different it was than when he was starting out. Steve agrees to come along, mainly saying he thinks Pony’s gonna get himself killed cus’ he SUCKS!!

After all the yada yada and defeating his first gym leader, Pony finds a dead Radicate and REFUSES to move on until they give the poor creature a proper burial. Since they’re already relatively close, Darry redirects the group to Lavender Town. 

While inside Pokémon tower, they come across a decrepit, old, decaying black-belt class trainer (Mr.Miyagi ((yeah I put him in here, what are you gonna do about it?)),sorry for all the mean adjectives) who of course starts being an old man and going on and on about the boy he fosters there and how weird he’s acting lately (Darry refuses to interrupt because he RESPECTS HIS ELDERS!!!). 

Mr.Miyagi admits that not being around people his age has probably messed with his development, practically calling the boy a hermit, and asks the guys to bring him along in exchange for a very strong Gengar (for Pony, ofc). Darry, upon hearing that the boy is a strong fighter and MUCH quieter then the rest of the freaks he’s dealing with, agrees. 

They go from floor to floor looking for him, eventually finding a cloaked figure on some fuckass floor idk. It takes a minute but they’re like, damn, this hoe possessed! And they battle him, he’s hard to beat but they do it eventually, yada yada. Johnny then takes the hood off, apologizes profusely, and explains that he’s a channeler but not really good at his job yet. (also imagine him with the most fuckass stutter, like Shaky from rdr)

The guys inform him about their promise to Mr.Miyagi, Johnny’s upset for t-minus two minutes before he’s just like “whatever okay” and joins them. (Quickly becomes the favorite, ofc, because he can actually shut his damn mouth). 

They move on to the next gym, yk how it goes…but yeah they come across a traveling circus. And you’ll NEVER GUESS WHO IS A CLOWN!! 

So anyway, Clown-bit, we love him. They come across him, agree to fight so he’ll give them some food and pokeballs, and Pony beats his ASS. 

They don’t really invite Two-Bit along (they think he’s annoying…who doesn’t?) but he just joins anyway. Imagine like constant clown puns. Also he and Johnny quickly take a liking to each other cus’ they’re both kinda outcasts of the group (Johnny’s known the guys for like, a week…and Two-bit Just showed up. Also, we need more Johnny and Two-Bit friend content so).

They keep going, Pony defeats a few more gym leaders, and takes notice that a lot of them seem to recognize someone on their team. When he askes, Johnny admits to being the son of one of the elite four. At first, Pony is thrilled by the info, until he pries a little more and realizes Johnny’s father was an abusive asshole and pretty much sent him away to Pokémon tower to force him into becoming a trainer. Yikes. 

Anyway, on their journey they come across some UGLY blonde guy, like one of those biker trainer classes yk..? Anyway yeah it’s Dallas, shocker. He kinda just gets in their way and refuses to move until they ALL battle him. Obviously, they don’t wanna do that, a lot of work for some ugly freak (did I mention he’s ugly?). 

They agree to let Ponyboy fight him, but he uh…loses. After a bit of back and forth Dallas agrees to let them go if they help him get to the Indigo Plateau in Kanto, so he can face off against the Elite Four there (his bike is old, cus yk…he’s poor.) 

Darry at this point has an entire league of teenagers following him around, so he’s like what’s one more? And boom they move on. 

I don’t have much planned out from here (this was all pulled from my ass anyway). Maybe the Shepards can be like…the Team Rocket of this AU?? And Soc’s are the gym leaders. 

Also, Yeah Cherry and Marcia are both Kanto elite four cus I SAID SO!!! And uh…Johnny and Cherry are dating because it’s MY AU AND I DO WHAT I WANT!!!! She’s the breadwinner and that’s okay, we love her for it <3

twobit prolly falls in love with Marcia when he sees her but idk if she’d reciprocate with an actual clown. Mayeb Randy lowered her standards???

anyway. That is all. Might flesh this out more if the obsession grows, or it’ll die in a week like the Crazy Scientist stuff. Oh well!

EXPLANATION OF DESIGNS/MORE INFO—

Ponyboy

CLASS: Youngster 

Ngl his design took very little time…..oops

his cap hides a really bad dye job, and he refuses to take it off

He chose squirtle as his starter, idrk why but squirtle just suits him. Maybe cus he almost drowned!!

Would’ve fought to the DEATH if he didn’t get squirtle. This boy knows what he wants 

He has a little pokeball necklace that his mom got him as a joke, will kill someone for it 

He deffo has a really nerdy messenger bag that he keeps all of his stuff in

He’s scared of his own Beedrill 

He does NOT need those glasses. But he likes them becuase he thinks they make him look more professional (everyone can tell they’re blue light glasses)

Sodapop

CLASS: Pokémon Ranger

LOVES his job and therefore is almost always seen in uniform

he loves electric/steel type Pokémon cus they reminds him of cars, so his hair is usually sticking up because of static electricity 

has a whistle, but Darrel stole it and tossed it into the forest VERY early into the journey 

yellow is his favorite color cus I said so

Raichu is his PRIZED Pokémon 

He’s kinda like Snow White the Pokémon love him 

His Flareon and Johnny’s Espeon are best friends 

Darrel

CLASS: Veteran 

Wanted to be a football player, but couldn’t because that wouldn’t keep the family afloat, that’s why his outfit has the numbers on it. 

Lot of scars, some from football and some from his days as a trainer 

His outfit used to have sleeves, but he found them annoying and just shopped them off one day 

Always keeps the spare pokeballs on him 

In highschool he had his hair grown out, but chopped it after their folks died because his father was always trying to get him to cut it 

I don’t really have a backstory for his necklace, buts it fire okay

Treats his Pokémon VERY well, if there was a trainer rating website he would be top 5

Picks his Pokémon based on size and strength

Two-Bit

CLASS: CLOWN

Obviously he’s a clown so, that explains the outfit 

NEVER seen without the makeup, even when it rains or he’s sleeping…that stuff is ON THERE

He has false lashes on his waterline, and yes they’re pink 

He is incapable of being quiet because of all the bells 

The hat doesn’t come off. if it did his hair under there would be hella matted 

All of Two’s Pokémon are just as annoying as he is, he hides earplugs in his shoes for people (they never take them) 

FATASS can and will eat anything in sight

Mr.Mime is his favorite of all his Pokémon….they ate both annoying together and everyone hates them for it 

Johnny

CLASS: Channeler 

the scar on his eye is from his father 😬 from when he figured out Miyagi wasn’t actually training him to be the next member of the Elite Four…. the eye is blue because of some psychic shit idk 

His outfit is from Miyagi entirely, the sleeves used to be connected, but he found it too annoying to fight in those so he tore them (Miyagi was secretly VERY unsettled) 

If you look really closely he has purple eyeliner

Johnny refuses to cut his hair, so it’s usually in a braid to be out of his way, he lets it down sometimes 

He has the little flower charm connected to his belt…what a cutie 

His hood is actually up a LOT, most of the time his face is obscured 

There’s flames on his sleeve….wonder why (not the reason you think okay. His father was a fire type trainer…JOHNNY LIVES IN THIS AU OKAY.)

also the metal things around his arm are like…incredibly heavy. Mr.Miyagi put them in originally so he could build muscle while doing everyday things, but Johnny insists on keeping the on forever. 

Loves all of his Pokémon equally, and they love him back. Always has atleast one out of their Pokeball so he doesn’t get lonely….my baby 

He doesn’t even like the color purple that much it’s just kinda his thing now 

Pokémon FLOCK to this man 

Dallas

CLASS: Biker

Tore the sleeves off of his jacket as well…they really like doing that 

YELLOW teeth and GREASY hair he does not take care of himself

Really likes dog-looking Pokémon 

Has an empty slot because one of his Pokémon just DIED LMAO (idk which one. Oh well) 

Has rips in his jeans, does not plan on fixing it 

Hand-carved his belt buckle. The ‘win’ in Winston is underlined. Ignore the fact that this idiot keeps fucking losing 

The bandages are protecting nothing. He thinks it makes him look cool

Pokémon are revolted by him. Like, his own literally hate him. 

Steve

Class: Hooligan

kind of an ass, but he looks cool

any cutscene of him he’s making sure his hair is still spiked trust

loves steel type Pokémon because…cars

his favorite color is green, making any green Pokémon his all time favorite

for being a little shit, he treats his Pokémon rather well

has studs ALL over his back, once leaned back on Soda and has never heard the end of the pain he caused

he has a tongue piercing….so….

when the gang is lacking resources, he and Dallas are the first to steal

[parkitrighthere]

The Black Orchid Project

Pairing: billionaire CEO!Jeon Jungkook x Secretory!Reader Genre: Dark Romance, Mystery, Thriller Word Count: 19k Trigger warning: This chapter contains morally grey characters, toxic characters, dark romance, trauma, violence, mentions of murder, death, and conspiracy. Reader discretion is advised. Summary: Jungkook is the enigmatic CEO of a major conglomerate with a haunting secret—he can hear everyone’s thoughts. But when Y/N becomes his new personal secretary, she’s the only person whose thoughts remain silent to him. Intrigued and unsettled, Jungkook is drawn to the mystery she presents, not realizing that their connection will unravel secrets neither of them are prepared to face. a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @parkitrighthere. The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support. a/n: So, I finally posted. Yeah, I know, shock of the century, right? You were probably out here cursing my name like, 'Where the heck have you been?' Well, I guess I just decided not to post this time. Don’t ask me why, I don’t even know. But hey, I’m sorry for that. I know, I say sorry a lot, it’s like my default setting at this point. But I swear, I’m really going to try and post more. I promise. Maybe. Also, a super huge shoutout and a massive thank you to my absolute favorite person @closer-to-jungkook. She beta-read this mess for me, and gave me so many amazing insights, but guess what? I didn’t do a single thing with them because, you know, I’m a failure like that. So, yeah, basically I let her down as my beta reader. Sorry, girl. But next time, I swear, I’ll actually listen and make you proud... unless I forget, again, in which case... whoops. Anyway, love you guys, and I’ll try not to disappear again... maybe.

PROLOGUE MASTERLIST 02

CHAPTER TITLE: Work, Words, and Wrecks

You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, your hands gripping the edges of the table, knuckles white as you tried to appear composed. But your patience was wearing thin. He was overreacting, making a mountain out of nothing. Sure, you’d made a mistake—who hadn’t?—but this? This was ridiculous. What was his deal with the room’s capacity? Why on earth was he so bothered about having more than four people in a room? Seriously, what kind of control freak rule was that? You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Was he scared of crowds or something? Honestly, with his attitude, he should be. If he kept ticking people off like this, one day, someone might snap—and if there were enough people, they’d form a mob. The thought almost made you snort, but you swallowed it down, biting your cheek. It was a silly theory, but it was better than trying to untangle the nonsense of his rules.

The meeting dragged on. Time seemed to crawl as if the clock itself was protesting against the sheer monotony of the discussion. It hadn’t been long since it started, but to you, it already felt like you’d been trapped in this room for days. You lost count of the times his gaze—no, his glare—scorched into you. Each glance filled with condescension that felt like a slap across the face.

He glared at you again. His soft, doe-like eyes narrowed, dark and piercing, with a keenness that made you shrink back slightly. His jaw tightened, the muscle jumping under his skin as he ground his teeth. You flinched instinctively, your body betraying you with a subtle jerk, as if bracing for impact, suddenly aware of how small you felt under his scrutiny. Your hands clenched in your lap, fingers feeling like they might snap, as you tried to focus anywhere else.

You quickly averted your gaze, your eyes darting around the room, desperate for an escape.  Your eyes landed on Taehyung. He leaned back casually in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, his long fingers drumming against the table in a slow, lazy rhythm. As soon as he felt your gaze, his lips curled into a subtle smirk. He raised his brows and blinked at you—once, deliberately.

You felt your face heat, and not from embarrassment, but frustration. God, all these men are insane. You clenched your fists tighter, nails digging into your palms to calm yourself.  You swore they all had some kind of mental dysfunction. Jungkook with his silent rage, Taehyung with his infuriating charm—maybe Jimin was the only sane one in this room besides you.

You sighed, shifting in your seat again, your foot tapping nervously against the floor. Mental health courses exist for a reason, you thought bitterly, your gaze flickering between Jungkook’s scowl and Taehyung’s irritating grin. Maybe they should sign up for all of them.

 As your thoughts spiralled, you dared a glance at him… again. Only to catch the faintest twitch of his brow—precise, calculated. It wasn’t just anger in his expression; it was something darker, something… personal? And it scared you, even if you’d never admit it.

The moment you had been dreading finally came. The meeting was over.

Chairs screeched against the floor as everyone pushed back from the table. The sound grated on your nerves, but you rose from your seat anyway, hands trembling, legs wobbling as though they might give out beneath you.

 Your breath hitched, shallow and fast, a knot tightening in the pit of your stomach. Your heart pounded against your ribs, a viscous thud that made your chest ache.  Was this fear? Anxiety? You couldn’t tell anymore, but it clawed at you, gnawing at your insides like a predator circling its prey. You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to calm yourself, but the uneasy tremor in your chest refused to fade.

You risked another glance at him, keeping your gaze low, peeking through your lashes, a fleeting, nervous look that you immediately regretted.  His gaze locked onto you, soft yet paradoxically so sharp and firm, as if he could see right through you. The weight of his stare felt like a physical force pressing against your temple. You quickly looked away but it was too late.

 Your throat tightening as your heart slammed against your ribs. But it didn’t matter—his eyes stayed on you, burning holes into the side of your head like he could feel every breath you took.

There was something in the way he looked at you—a mix of curiosity and disdain that made your skin crawl, like you were an unsolved puzzle he hated having to deal with. It was as though he were studying you, dissecting you piece by piece. He looked at you like he couldn’t stand the thought of breathing the same air as you, as if being in the same room as you was a personal insult he couldn’t forgive. The corner of his mouth twitched, but not in kindness. A cold, predatory smirk curled his lips, one that made your blood run cold.

His soft brown boba eyes never left you.

And then he smiled. Cold, shrill, and entirely without warmth. A smile that dripped with obnoxiousness and delight, as though he was basking in your unease, feeding off it like it gave him some twisted satisfaction.

 You weren’t sure what scared you more—the venom in his gaze or the fact that you couldn’t look away, no matter how much you wanted to.

"Jungkook," Seokjin’s voice cut through the fragile silence like a gentle breeze, calm and soothing.

Jungkook’s head snapped toward Seokjin, and in an instant, everything about him changed.

 His shoulders, tense and rigid moments ago, relaxed, and his piercing glare melted away, replaced by something soft—gentle, even. His lips curved into a smile, one so sweet and genuine it left you completely dumfounded. You blinked, your mouth falling open in shock.

What the hell?

Your eyes widened,  as you stared at him, disbelief etched across your face.  How... how is this possible? This was the same man who had spent the entire meeting glaring daggers at you, exuding nothing but cold enmity. How could someone so rude, heartless, and obnoxiously infuriating smile like that? It didn’t make sense. It felt like a trick, some cruel joke the universe was playing on you. But there it was—his smile, warm and dazzling, as if he hadn’t spent the past hour glaring at you like you were dirt beneath his shoe.  And now? Now he looked like a painting come to life—a vision of warmth and beauty that shouldn’t belong to someone so cruel.

Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed the faint crinkle at the corners of his eyes, the way his smile softened his entire face. For a brief, fleeting moment, you found yourself mesmerized. A small, traitorous voice whispered in the back of your mind, He’s stunning. Beautiful. Perfect. And he was. That smile made him look like something out of a dream, his dark orbs soft and almost shy under the fluorescent light. He was cute too, you realized, in that infuriating way that made you want to scream. And hot? God, no one could dare bring up the concept of hotness without mentioning him.

How can someone so horrible look this… beautiful? The whisper in the back of your mind grew louder. This man is the definition of beauty.

Your cheeks flushed at the thought, and you shook your head quickly, breaking free from whatever spell he’d cast. No. Absolutely not. Don’t go there. You shook your head slightly, muttering a quiet mantra in your head. No, no, no. He’s an idiot. A rude, wicked bastard. Stop it. This is the same guy who’s made your day a living hell. Remember that. But it was hard to ignore the way your heart raced, or the strange flutter in your chest.

Jungkook didn’t respond to Jin right away. Instead, he moved. His long strides carried him around the table, each step smooth and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. He stopped beside Jin, his posture instantly relaxed as Seokjin patted his shoulder in a way that felt natural, familiar.

Jin began to speak again, his lips parting as if to offer some kind of reassurance, but Jungkook cut him off before he could finish.

“Hyung! Let’s go to my office,” Jungkook said, his voice low and soft, almost tender. “We’ll talk there?” His voice was softer than you’d heard it, polite and calm. It was so different from the cold, harsh tone he had threw your way.

You blinked, staring at the two of them as your jaw threatened to hit the floor again. This can’t be real. Him? Soft? It was like watching a lion purr—a sight so contradictory it didn’t feel real. His tone was polite, his demeanour respectful—words you would never have associated with the man five minutes ago

Your eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, struggling to make sense of what you were seeing. Jungkook, the same man who had made your day a living hell, now stood before Seokjin like an obedient younger brother. It was unsettling, to say the least.

He wasn’t just polite—he was soft. Gentle, even.

You couldn’t stop staring. The way he tilted his head slightly when he spoke to Jin, the way his hands relaxed at his sides, no longer tense or clenched. It was so different from the version of him you knew, it almost felt like you were looking at a completely different person.

Your fingers twitched at your side, itching to pinch yourself. Maybe you were dreaming. Or hallucinating. Because the Jungkook you knew? He didn’t do soft. And yet, here he was, proving you wrong with every breath. The man who had made it his mission to make you feel two inches tall was suddenly soft and sweet with Seokjin? It didn’t make sense.

But the warmth in his expression lingered, and for reasons you couldn’t explain, it made your chest tighten. He was more than what you’d seen so far… wasn’t he?

Jin’s face lit up with a bright smile as he nodded at Jungkook. Turning away, he gave Namjoon and Taehyung a light nudge to follow him.

Namjoon responded with a quick nod, a broad grin spreading across his face as he moved to join them.

Taehyung, however, didn’t move. Instead, he slumped further into his chair, crossing his arms loosely and leaning back with a loud, exaggerated sigh. His lips pressed into a pout as he stared at the ceiling like the very idea of moving was a personal offense. It was no secret that Jeon Enterprises and Kim Enterprises were very close; both companies worked hand in hand. Even Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung went to the same school and college together. Their entire childhood and teenage years were spent together, and they were still together. All three of them were always in the news, and always together too. Jungkook knew Taehyung like the back of his hand along with his antics.

Namjoon glanced over, eyebrows furrowing in that “here we go again” way of his as he caught sight of Taehyung’s antics. “Seriously?” he asked, his tone half amused, half exasperated. His hands found their way to his hips, as he watched Taehyung flap his arms against the chair’s armrests.

Taehyung raised his hand in the air, palm out, as if announcing something grand. “No!”  he exclaimed, dragging the word out as he slowly pushed himself up from his seat, slowly, deliberately, making it as dramatic as possible before turning to Seokjin. “I won’t, hyung. I refuse.”

Seokjin didn’t react right away. He merely tilted his head, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, making it clear he wasn’t impressed. His lips pressed into a thin line as he let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes. His gaze shifted to Namjoon, wordlessly asking, Is this brat for real?

Namjoon only shrugged, an almost conspiratorial grin spreading across his face, as if he found the whole thing more entertaining than annoying. They both turned their attention back to Taehyung, who didn’t care—if anything, their reactions only fueled his theatrics.  "NO," Taehyung declared, his voice firm, though his lips twitched with the hint of a smile.

“What now?” Seokjin asked finally, his voice calm, dangerously calm, but the words that tumbled out were tight. It wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be—it was the kind of calm that warned you not to push your luck. His piercing eyes bored into Taehyung, sharp and calculating, a reminder that behind the soft features was a mind you didn’t want to cross.  The sharp edge to it made you flinch, even though the question wasn’t directed at you.

The tension in the room shifted as even Taehyung hesitated for a second, his hand dropping to his side as he shifted under Jin’s obdurate stare. But within minutes he was back to his usual self.

You stood in the corner, half-forgotten, watching the scene unfold as if you were invisible. For a moment, it felt like you were intruding on a private family argument. They were so lost in their little world that none of them seemed to notice you lingering.  The ridiculousness of the scene was almost enough to make you forget the tension lingering in the air. Almost.

Seokjin’s calm demeanour held stable as he waited for Taehyung’s next move, the silence stretching just long enough to make even you hold your breath.

But Taehyung, being Taehyung, jabbed his finger in Jungkook's direction without even sparing him a glance. “He didn’t invite me! Just you, hyung. Just you,” he said, voice laced with mock hurt. Namjoon sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he shook his head, but a soft smile tugged at his lips. How could he stay mad? Taehyung was his little brother, and no matter how ridiculous the stunt, even when they bordered on absurd, he couldn’t help but find it endearing.

Taehyung’s arms crossed over his chest, his pout deepening as he stuck his bottom lip out, eyes narrowing as he watched Seokjin expectantly.

“An invitation? Really? You want an invitation?” Seokjin asked, his voice flat and deadpan, like he couldn’t believe he was even entertaining this ridiculous request. “What is this, a wedding? You want calligraphy and wax seals?”

Taehyung’s pout deepened, his gaze shifting dramatically to the side as he huffed. "Please would do," His voice a mix of childish demand and mock offense, his eyes flicking to Seokjin for any sign of approval.

 “A proper invite,” he huffed. “With manners. A simple please.”

Jimin couldn’t hold back his laugh, it came out bright and loud, like he’d just heard the funniest joke. "What?!" he snorted, stepping forward with an amused glint in his eyes.

 His laughter only grew as he straightened, wiping a fake tear from his eye before stepping toward Taehyung. “From Jungkook? Oh, Tae, you’re delusional.” he said, his voice a mockingly sweet coo.

Taehyung’s brow twitched, and he shoved Jimin away, glaring at him. “Don’t call me delusional,” he snapped. “And stop laughing. It’s not that funny.”

Jimin, still laughing, straightened up and threw an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders. “Oh, but it is, Tae-Tae,” he teased, dragging out the nickname with enough sugar to cause cavities.

Taehyung immediately shoved him off. “Don’t call me that!” he barked, though his glare wavered when Jimin stumbled backward, his laughter echoing in the room.

“Let’s be real,” Jimin said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “Jungkook saying please? You’ve got better odds of him baking us cupcakes with love letters on top.”

Seokjin watched the entire scene unfold with a quiet sigh, his arms falling to his sides as he shook his head. “Bloody idiots,” he muttered under his breath, though his eyes betrayed the fondness he felt for them all.

Jungkook, who had been leaning against the wall with the air of someone far too cool to care, quirked an eyebrow. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. The faint smirk on his lips said it all: “Not happening.”

“See?” Jimin said, gesturing toward Jungkook with a wide grin, as if the smirk was proof enough of what he’d been saying.

Taehyung huffed, rolling his eyes as he glared at Jungkook. "He’s insufferable." he muttered, his voice flat but dripping with monotony. He threw the words out with the kind of disinterest that only Taehyung could manage, as though even arguing was beneath him.

“Always has been,” Jimin agreed cheerfully, giving Taehyung a playful pat on the shoulder.

“You want an invite?” Seokjin deadpanned, cutting through the noise like a knife. “Fine. Jungkook, invite him.”

Jungkook didn’t even look up. “No.”

The room fell silent for a beat before Jimin broke into another fit of laughter. “I told you!” he howled, practically doubling over again. “That guy would rather eat his shoe than say the p-word.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Taehyung muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

Jimin grinned, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “What’s the matter, Tae? Expecting something special from him? Maybe a song, a serenade, flowers—”

“Shut up,” Taehyung snapped, his face turning red as he swatted at Jimin His glare faltering just enough to reveal a flicker of amusement behind his annoyed facade.

Namjoon, trying to keep it together, clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking slightly with suppressed laughter. Seokjin did the same, clearing his throat to hide the grin threatening to break free. You couldn’t hold back either, a soft laugh slipping from your lips. The sound of it made everyone snap their heads in your direction, and you immediately went still.

“Oh, for the love of—” Taehyung groaned, turning to Jimin abruptly, the chair scraping loudly as he shoved it back. “This is ridiculous. Forget it. I’m not playing this game.”

“You’re still mad, aren’t you?” Jimin pressed, a laugh already escaping as he took a step back, clearly enjoying pushing Taehyung’s buttons.

“Like I care!” Taehyung shot back, his hands gesturing wildly before he turned on his heel. He glared at Jungkook one last time. “Who’d want to spend time with a jerk like him anyway?”

You couldn’t help but agree, nodding your head. It was truly, genuinely, sincerely, honestly the most truthful statement you'd heard all day. Even Jungkook chuckled at Taehyung's behaviour, and your gaze snapped back to Jungkook. You stared at him in disbelief; you never thought you'd see this man smiling. Yet here he was, standing in all his glory, proving you wrong.  Jungkook? Laughing? Relaxed? It was like spotting a unicorn in the wild. For the first time, he didn’t look like the insufferable boss you were growing to despise. He looked...earth-shatteringly handsome. You cursed under your breath, clenching your fists to keep from staring too long.

It made you feel like your brain was short-circuiting. Here was this asshole of a man, acting like he was above it all, and yet… he was smiling. It made him look almost… normal.

Why was he so ridiculously handsome? He was a jerk, a complete ass, yet... there was something about him. He was perfect boyfriend material, especially with those tattoos. You'd seen them in magazines, but you wouldn't mind seeing them in real life.

He was a jerk, but otherwise, he was perfect boyfriend material, especially with those tattoos. You'd seen them in magazines, but you wouldn't mind seeing them in real life.

You shook your head abruptly, as if physically trying to dislodge the thought. Nope. Absolutely not. Stop it.

Why were you thinking all this nonsense?

Because no matter how annoyingly perfect he looked in that moment—relaxed, smirking, and effortlessly magnetic—you knew better. He wasn’t your type. Not even close. You were way too smart to fall for someone as much of a piece of shit as he was.

As soon as your eyes met Jungkook’s, your heart dropped into your stomach.  Your legs wobbled, the ground beneath you suddenly felt unstable. You felt like the world had stopped.  The only thing keeping you upright was the edge of the table you leaned against, gripping it so tightly your knuckles turned white. It was like he had forgotten you were even there, but now that he remembered... you were in trouble.

Your thoughts were a mess, a rush of panic flooding your veins. Please, don't fire me. Please don't fire me, you repeated over and over in your mind. His stare made you feel like a sheep waiting to be devoured by a wolf—helpless and small.

Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Jimin’s voice cut through, loud but tensed. "Why are you still standing here?" he asked, his eyes darting nervously between you and Jungkook. "I'm sure you have work to do."

You nodded quickly, too quickly, your head bobbing furiously in agreement.

“What work, Jimin?” Jungkook snapped, his voice low and brimming with frustration. “She’s fired,” he declared, sending a shiver down your spine. His words felt like a physical blow, the weight of them crushing your chest. You could barely hear the rest of his sentence as panic drowned out everything else—I've had enough of her…

What to do now?

Cry, a voice whispered in the back of your head.

Jimin, however, wasn’t having any of it. “Enough, Jungkook!” he shot back, his voice hard and commanding. The sharpness in Jimin’s words was like a shield between you and Jungkook’s anger. You could see the way Jungkook’s expression shifted—he was still seething, but Jimin left no room for argument.

“She isn’t fired, and it’s final,” Jimin said. You could see the muscles in his jaw twitching as he tried to control his temper.

Jungkook opened his mouth to retort, but Jimin cut him off with a simple wave of his hand, motioning for you to leave. You didn’t need to be told twice. You bolted from the conference room, not even daring to look back. You weren’t sure whether to be more terrified of Jungkook or grateful to Jimin. You knew you’d messed up—it was your fault—but Jimin had chosen to take your side, and you couldn’t understand why.

You sprinted down the hall toward the elevator. Your hands trembled as you jabbed—no, banged—the elevator button for the 26th floor. The wait felt agonizingly long.

When the elevator finally dinged open, you stumbled out, half-running to your desk. Collapsing into your chair, you let out a shaky breath and buried your face in your arms on the desk. Your head fell onto your desk with a loud thud.

What had just happened?

God, your first day almost became your last.

You took a deep, steadying breath and pushed yourself upright, gripping the edge of your desk to ground yourself. This isn’t the time to wallow, you thought, brushing your hair back from your face with trembling fingers. You couldn’t afford to crumble now.

You can’t mess up again, you reminded yourself, wiping a hand over your face. Jimin might’ve saved you today, but luck won’t always be there neither… he. Luck was fleeting. It wasn’t something you trusted. Not with your history. You let out a dry laugh under your breath—luck and you were like oil and water. You were the ultimate symbol of bad luck, and that delightfully beautiful director of Jeon Enterprises had simply taken pity on you. Yes, it wasn’t luck. It was Jimin’s mercy, and you couldn’t count on it happening twice. Especially not when your boss—the arrogant bastard himself—was likely already sharpening his knives for round two.

The thought of Jungkook—his dark, piercing gaze—still lingered in your mind, but you forced yourself to focus. He was a devil, no doubt, and you... you were just the unlucky fool who happened to cross his path.

You couldn't afford to mess up again. Play it safe, you told yourself. Do your job right and keep your head down. You couldn’t give him another reason to unleash his wrath.

Your eyes fell to the stack of files in front of you, and a sinking feeling hit you hard in the stomach. The pile seemed to grow taller with each breath you took. The next meeting was only thirty minutes away

You glanced at the files scattered across your desk. Focus, you reminded yourself, slapping your cheeks lightly to snap out of it. The next meeting was in thirty minutes, and you didn’t have the luxury of time to curse your misfortune or that insufferable man.

Your eyes darted over the papers, frustration bubbling up as you began sifting through them. The previous secretary—whoever they were—had left behind a tangled mess. A spectacularly awful mess.

 How was this even possible?

You could almost feel your blood pressure rise as you examined the glaring errors.  The deadlines were completely out of sync with the client’s expectations, the budget allocations were so far off it was laughable, and one section even referenced an entirely different project altogether. If this wasn’t fixed in time for the meeting, it would be a complete disaster, and you were the one who’d have to face the consequences.

“This is a joke,” you muttered. You grabbed a pen, tapping it furiously against the table as your brain raced to come up with a plan.

Half an hour. That’s all you had to fix this disaster before you had to present it to a room full of people, including him.

"Fuck you! Whoever you are." you muttered under your breath, pushing your sleeves up, ignoring the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. Get it together, you scolded yourself. “This isn’t rocket science.” Your voice cracked slightly as you muttered the words aloud, as if hearing them would calm the storm raging inside you.

You grabbed the laptop, pulling up emails and client notes to cross-check the project details. The keyboard clacked furiously under your hands. Your brows furrowed in concentration, your lips pressed into a tight line. You clicked open the soft copy of the file, eyes scanning the screen quickly.

You stole a glance at the clock, and your heart nearly stopped. Twenty minutes left. Fuck.

The dull throb behind your temples was growing each passing minute, but you didn’t have the luxury to slow down. Tears? Not an option. You didn’t have time for that. Not when your whole career was teetering on the edge of disaster.

Get through the day without Jungkook turning you into his next verbal target.

 The mistakes were too obvious to miss, too dangerous to ignore. If the client saw these errors, it wasn’t just your job on the line—it was Jeon Enterprises' reputation. And that would mean your boss, Jungkook, would tear you apart, slowly and painfully.

 what have you done to deserve this.

Your fingers slammed against the keyboard as you raced through the sections. The section referencing the wrong project? Gone, replaced with the right one. The mismatched deadlines? Adjusted. The budget allocations that didn’t even make sense? Rewritten, recalculated, and double-checked.

You needed to print the corrected version. Your hands trembled as you stared at the screen, unsure of where to even begin this process. This wasn’t just a small mistake anymore—it felt like the whole day was falling apart in real time. You stared at the screen with mounting dread. Print. Where?

You slapped the print button, watching as the computer confirmed that it was printing, but your brain was far from settled. Printer? Where’s the damn printer? Your heart pounded as you stood, snatching up your blazer and dashing out of your office.

The hallway felt endless as you looked down the corridor. You felt a wave of frustration, the kind you’d never experienced before. You could have screamed, a sound that would shake the walls, but you couldn’t. Instead, you forced a deep breath through your nose and tried to calm yourself.

Finally, you spotted the printer at the end of the hall—right by the breakroom, its small glowing light blinking. It should have been a simple solution, but when you saw the machine, all you felt was pure, hot rage. Why is it always this difficult?

Why did it feel like everything was against you today?

Because of course, it jammed halfway through. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter as you leaned down, yanking at the paper slot with all your might. The printer groaned, then jammed, and you let out an angry sound that came out as a strangled groan.

“Come on, you stupid thing—work!” you hissed, muttering curses that seemed to make you feel worse. Stupid thing!

You slammed the print button again, your fingers stabbing at the machine. Finally, the printer whirred, clicked, and then began its slow, steady rhythm. You let out a shaky breath, pressing your hand against your forehead to steady the dizziness threatening the edges of your focus.

Finally, the documents started coming out. You grabbed them. You ran your hands over the pages, smoothing them down compulsively as though that would make them more trustworthy. You clutched it like it was your lifeline. Not perfect, but it'll have to do. Once back in your cabin, you shoved the papers into a folder, your chest still tight.

The clock on the wall caught your attention.

Ten minutes left.

 You could barely breathe as you walked out of your office, your feet moving almost on autopilot. In no time, you found yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s office.

You knocked. Once. Twice. And then… you waited.

 You closed your eyes briefly, took a steadying breath. You bit your lip, and raised your hand to knock thrice.

"Come in!" Jungkook’s voice rang out, gruff and loud, cutting through the air. You hesitated for a second before pushing the door open, and every head in the room snapped toward you. You stepped inside, your heart racing as you greeted them with a polite but fake smile, trying your best to keep it together. Only Jimin smiled back. The others... they just stared, like you were some strange creature. Jin and Namjoon looked shocked—why? What was going on? And then there was Taehyung, his eyes wide with what could only be described as disbelief.

Jimin spoke first, his voice light and effortless, and you couldn't help but thank your lucky stars—or maybe it was just Jimin being Jimin. “You need something?”

You gave a short nod and turned to face Jungkook. His eyes narrowed, his arms crossing over his chest, his whole posture screaming annoyance.  His jaw was clenched so tight it seemed like he might snap any second. You swallowed hard, trying not to show how much his stare rattled you.

"Yeah. I was merely here to remind Mr. Jeon that the meeting starts in… like ten—no, seven minutes now," you managed to say, your voice wavering just a little as you spoke. Your hands were clenched at your sides, and you forced yourself not to fidget.

You stole a quick glance around the room. Jin and Namjoon had gone back to their own conversations, but Taehyung was still staring at you, mouth slightly open like he couldn't believe you were standing there. Jungkook still hadn’t said anything, his eyes still boring into you.

"Thank you," Jimin said, his smile soft and genuine. "He’ll be there."

You nodded once, trying not to let your relief show too much. You gave a quick, polite bow of your head, then turned, making your way to the door, your steps hurried but controlled. As you left the room, you couldn’t help but think—Jimin was an angel, working for a devil. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done without him today.

As you walked out of his cabin, you caught the faintest sound of Taehyung’s voice drifting behind you.

“Damn, dude! She’s something. She must be… to get you this worked up. Wow! I loved it.”

You didn’t linger to hear the rest, though. It was like your feet were moving faster than your brain, the urgency propelling you back to your cabin. You sprinted to your desk, your hands shaking as you skimmed through the pages one final time. You stapled them together. You had to present this with confidence, one mistake and Jungkook would tear you apart.

Five minutes left.

“You’ve got this. Just fake it. Fake it all the way.”

Your heels clicked sharply against the marble floors as you made your way to the conference room. Your grip on the file tightened, your knuckles white. When you reached the door. With a firm push, you stepped inside.

Walking to the table, you laid down the stack of updated project files, replacing the older copies. Once every seat had the corrected file, you finally slid into your chair. The leather seat creaked softly as you sank into it, and you folded your hands tightly in your lap to steady them. You darted a glance at the door, waiting for everyone's but specially Jungkook’s inevitable arrival. You flipped through the files for what felt like the hundredth time. The numbers blurred slightly before your eyes, but you forced yourself to focus.

The sharp sound of the door opening made your head snap up. Jungkook walked in with the same air of authority that always seemed to announce his presence before he even spoke. His eyes locked onto you, narrowing instantly, and his jaw clenched so tight you swore you heard his teeth grind.

You stifled a sigh, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your face neutral. What now? You wondered bitterly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. Jungkook didn’t just dislike you—he hated you—like, deep, unrelenting hatred. For what reason? Who knew. And frankly, you didn’t care.  If you could, you would’ve told him to take his reasons, his anger, and his goddamn temper tantrums and shove them up his perfectly tailored ass, but you knew that wouldn’t help you keep your job.

He moved around the room with precision, as he made his way to his seat. His attention was fixed on you, like you were some annoying fly he wanted to swat. You straightened in your chair. He dropped into his chair with an air of casual authority and grace of someone far too confident for their own good.

For a moment, your traitorous thoughts drifted. He was handsome—annoyingly so. Sharp jawline, paradoxically piercing boba eyes, and a frame that looked like it was carved by a sculptor. But his attitude? That was enough to ruin the whole package. If only his personality matched his looks. If only he wasn’t such a pompous, insufferable jerk. Instead of charm, he had an ego the size of the goddamn building. If he had even an ounce of kindness or respect to him, he would’ve been perfect. But no, instead he walked with the kind of arrogance that could suffocate a room, his back rigid and his posture as stiff as the stick lodged firmly up his ass.

You shook the thought from your head. He wasn’t worth your time.

The door opened again, and this time it was the clients. Jungkook stood, but just barely.

He simply stood halfway and gave a curt nod that was so half-hearted you wondered if it hurt his pride to be polite. God forbid Mr. Perfect lower himself to basic manners. His expression didn’t change—stoic and unbothered—while yours shifted into a polite mask. Maybe you were expecting too much. Maybe you were the problem. You slid your chair closer to the table and sat down next to him. You offered the clients a small smile, hoping to compensate for Jungkook’s complete lack of warmth.

But his eyes. God, his eyes. They didn’t stray far from you.

You placed the documents in front of him. You kept your gaze fixed on the table, careful not to meet his boba eyes. “Here! Mr. Jeon,” you whispered, your voice as even and professional as you could manage. The last thing you wanted was to give him even an inch to criticize you.

Before you could pull your hand back, his fingers closed around the file. His hand was warm—too warm—and for just a moment, your cold, dainty fingers brushed against his. The warmth of his hand lingered on yours, and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Your body felt paralyzed, shocked, maybe even mesmerized by the sensation.  You couldn’t pull away—not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t.

Jungkook’s hand retreated first, leaving your fingers tingling. You leaned back in your chair, clearing your throat as heat crept up your neck. You turned your attention to the clients, offering a polite smile. They exchanged a few glances, their expressions unreadable.

Why are they looking at me like that?

Before you could figure it out, Jungkook’s voice cut through the silence, quiet and low. "Why are you making that face?"

You turned toward him, startled. “Huh?”

He didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him as he leaned back in his seat. His voice was soft, like a whisper, but it hit you like a punch to the gut.

“You look like you’re constipating,” he said, his tone casual, smooth, utterly calm—and utterly cruel and casual, as though commenting on the weather.

Your face fell. What did he just say? Your mouth fell open slightly in horror, heat rushing to your face. He did not just say that. You glared at the side of his face, imagining all the ways you could strangle him with the tie he wore so smugly. Murder was illegal, but maybe, just maybe, you could make an exception.

 Ignore him. He’s not worth it or… should you just strangle him? Oh, you wanted to strangle him. No, you needed to strangle him. Who even says that? You huffed, straightening in your seat and glaring at the file in front of you.

Jungkook flipped open the folder, his sharp eyes scanning the documents.

And then it happened—a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, so subtle you almost missed it. “Let’s begin,” he said smoothly, finally turning his attention to the clients. But just before he did, his gaze flicked to you, brief but searing.

The meeting began.

The meeting dragged on. Your hand ached from jotting down notes, your fingers stiff as they moved across the page. All you could think about was how Jungkook managed to handle these clients—their demands were endless, their standards sky-high. Jungkook, somehow, handled their lofty standards with an ease that almost infuriated you. How could someone so insufferable be so damn good at this? You, however, were drained. Mentally, physically, emotionally. All you wanted was to go home, curl up, and forget this entire ordeal. But the clients showed no signs of slowing, so neither could you. You scribbled furiously, keeping up with the endless stream of requests and comments, your hand cramping around the pen. Every now and then, you stole glances at the clock, silently begging for it all to end.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the meeting came to an end.

 The clients rose, shaking Jungkook’s hand with smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Jeon,” one of them said, their tone oozing professionalism. Then their gaze flicked to you, offering a curt nod—no words, no acknowledgment of your work. You swallowed the frustration bubbling up in your chest and nodded back, forcing a tight-lipped smile. Typical. You bit the inside of your cheek, swallowing the bitter taste of resentment as they exited the room. Well, women in corporate field.

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with Jungkook. Your mind was hyper-aware of his presence.

He was leaning back, the picture of ease, his chair swinging slightly from left to right. His left leg rested over his right, one arm draped casually across the armrest. He didn’t speak, didn’t make a sound, but the intensity of his stare was enough. You didn’t dare look up. Not after what had happened earlier. Not after what he said earlier.

You stole a glance, his tie had loosened slightly, the top button of his shirt undone. When he did that? He looked like he owned the entire world, and the infuriating thing was—he probably did.

You remembered what you thought while applying for this job: How hard could it be to work for him?

You’d found out the hard way, within mere hours.

Jeon Jungkook wasn’t just hard to work for—he was impossible. A devil in designer suits. A man who had no mercy and no patience, especially not for someone like you. Your first day had made that abundantly clear in the worst way possible.

Jeon Jungkook wasn’t someone to take lightly. He was a storm you hadn’t prepared for, and it was already threatening to swallow you whole.

You pushed the glass door open, ready to step out, but then you heard it—his voice, loud and clear.

"Pebble!"

You froze. Slowly, you turned around, almost colliding with the door in the process. His eyes locked onto yours, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t the friendly kind—it was something else. Something that made you feel both irritated and, disturbingly, giddy.

"What?" you muttered, your voice low and unsure. You weren't able to understand why you gripped it ever so tightly.

He stood from his chair, rising with an ease that felt effortless, his hands casually buried in his pockets. His movements were smooth, deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to examine you. He was far too good-looking for your sanity, far too composed, far too everything.

 Fuck him, and fuck your good sense.

What was this? Why were you feeling so fragile in front of him? You didn’t have time to figure it out because, in three long strides, he was standing in front of you, so close that the scent of his cologne wrapped around you.  His eyes were still on you, as if he were studying you—no, devouring you with just a glance. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And that, right there, made you even more furious.

Is this guy stupid? you wondered. What was the point of staring like that? It felt intrusive, unnerving, yet somehow, you couldn’t tear your own gaze away.

 Staring, in your book, was the hallmark of cheap behaviour, reserved for people with no manners or boundaries. But he somehow pulled it off, with that smirk and those features and that way he seemed to have everything in the world under control. As if his ridiculous good looks gave him a free pass.

"Coffee. In my office."

"Huh?" was all you could manage, your voice barely above a whisper, still unsure of what was happening.

He tsked, shaking his head like you were hopeless. “You heard me. Black. No sugar. Ms…” he trailed off, his brow furrowing slightly.

Your eyes widened in realization. He didn’t know your name. Or worse—he hadn’t even tried to know it until now. Your throat tightened, and you opened your mouth, about to respond, but before a single word could leave your lips, he finished with,

"Pebble."

Your mouth hung open, as you watched him leave.

Pebble.

He had just called you Pebble.

You stood there, staring, stunned, unable to believe what just happened.

He was the most disrespectful, irritating, unbearable person you had ever met.

The anger built up in you until you couldn’t stand still anymore. You stomped your foot hard against the ground.

You would make him regret this.

Oh, you absolutely would.

With a resigned sigh, you turned toward the elevator, dragging your feet. At least you now knew where the coffee machine was—down at the far end of the floor. Great. More walking. You hadn’t even done this much cardio in the past year, let alone in a single day. No wonder all the women here looked so fit—they practically lived on their feet.

When you reached the elevator, you noticed him—Jungkook—already stepping into it. Your pace slowed instinctively. No way were you getting in that elevator with him, even for a single second. He wouldn’t stop the elevator for you anyway—he was too much of a jerk to care.

But when had life ever gone according to your plans?

Before you could change direction, you heard the sound of the doors closing and sliding back open.

Oh, hell no. Your body tensed. You didn't want to step in there with him, but you didn’t have a choice. You dragged your feet reluctantly. The annoyance in his eyes deepened, and a muscle in his jaw twitched, like he was already regretting his decision to wait for you.

Finally, you reached the door.

“Get fucking in, woman.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You stepped inside, muttering curses in your head, and the doors slid shut with a soft ding.

 You didn’t dare move, didn’t dare look at him, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you, like he was trying to figure you out or, worse, punish you for existing.

Maybe he was pissed.

And you? You couldn’t decide if you hated him more in this moment or if you just wanted to get out of this damn elevator as quickly as possible.

“I thought you had work here,” he said, his tone casual.

“Huh?” you managed, surprised.

He shook his head, as if you were already the most frustrating thing he’d encountered that day.

“Do you know anything else besides ‘huh?’”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t wait. “I said, I thought you had work here.”

“What work?” you snapped. His eyes flared. But the bastard smirked, like he’d been expecting this reaction.

“What meeting do we have next, Pebble?” His voice was smooth, almost playful.

Your stomach dropped. Pebble. He had just said it again. But. You froze. His words lingered in your mind like a bad omen, but all that filled your head was white noise. The name of the company… where was it? Shit.

He chuckled, the sound low and smooth, just to make sure you knew how badly you’d messed up. “You need to collect some files from marketing and sales team. You forgot.”

The damn files. I forgot? You swallowed hard, glancing around the elevator as if the walls could give you an answer.

“What are you trying to do—break the glass and jump into the sales and marketing floor?” he said, his tone as bored as his expression. His words felt cruel, but you knew there was a bite of truth to them.

You shook your head, cheeks heating as you mentally berated yourself. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, embarrassed and annoyed. More walking. That’s all you could think about now.

The elevator doors opened, and Jungkook stepped out first. He glanced up at you, raising an eyebrow, and for a split second, you thought—just maybe—he might say something remotely decent. But no, that was far too much to hope for. His lips curled into that damn smirk as he turned away and said, “Coffee. On my desk. In five minutes.”

Before you could even respond, he turned around and walked away.

You stepped out of the elevator, its door closing behind you. You let out a frustrated exhale. God, I hate him. You made your way to the coffee machine. You prepared the coffee just like he’d ordered, and even the smell made your stomach churn. The bitterness of it matched the bitterness radiating from him.  No wonder he was always so damn miserable. A person who drank this much bitter coffee could only have a bitter heart.

You walked down the hall to his office. The door was slightly ajar, and you knocked softly, holding the cup in your hands.

“Come in,” he barked again from inside.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside, placing the coffee on his desk. He was sitting at his desk, back straight, his sharp features focused on his laptop. The desk was neat, pristine, every paper and pen in its place, a stark contrast to the chaos on your desk.

“Here, Mr. Jeon,” you said, your voice tight with forced politeness.

He didn’t even look at you. Instead, he grabbed the cup, bringing it to his lips like it was the most important thing in the world. His eyes fluttered closed as he took the first sip, and you watched in disbelief as he sighed deeply, as though he’d just tasted heaven.

“Good,” he muttered, but it wasn’t directed at you—it was all about the coffee. Your stomach turned at the absurdity of it. He didn’t even acknowledge the fact that you’d stood there, prepared it, and handed it to him.

“Send Jimin in my office. Now, leave,” he demanded, his voice flat, as if he were speaking to a wall, not a person.

 Every inch of you wanted to pull his hair out, to throw something across his perfectly organized desk. Instead, you nodded stiffly.

“Sure, Mr. Jeon,” you said, forcing the words past your clenched teeth before turning on your heel and leaving.

Once outside, the first thing you did was head straight for Jimin, who was at his desk, buried in papers. His workspace was cluttered with post-its, notes, and scribbles. His eyes lifted when you approached, and though his face showed signs of being busy, his greeting was polite as ever.

“What brings you here, Ms. …,” he began, with a soft smile.

“Mr. Jeon wants you in his office,” you replied, keeping it brief. You didn't have the energy to engage in any more small talk.

"Why?" Jimin asked, as he stood up, closing the file in his hands and sliding his blazer on with a sharp tug. You just shrugged. Jimin gave a small nod.

“Alright,” he said, adjusting his blazer. His tone indicated he didn’t mind being interrupted. “I’ll head in there.” You watched as he walked toward the hallway.

You followed your own path toward the marketing department first. You handed over the files, your hands sore from too much writing, before heading toward the sales department. The constant movement was starting to wear you down, but you couldn’t let it show. You did the same at the sales department, before finally making your way back to your office, your feet aching more than ever. This is going to be a long day, you thought, pressing a hand to your lower back as you settled into your chair.

Before you could catch a break, the clock ticked, signaling that it was time for the next meeting. You picked yourself up again, shoulders sore and heavy, and made your way back toward Jungkook’s office.

You knocked on the door before stepping in, your hand pressing into the wood with slightly trembling fingers. This time Jimin was in there with him, seated on the couch. He looked agitated—hands running through his hair as he exchanged words with Jungkook.

You hesitated at the threshold. You didn’t want to intrude on their conversation. You quickly turned on your heel, shaking your head as you backed out. These guys were insane.

You closed the door behind you with a gentle push and let out a shaky exhale. Your hands gripped your notebook tightly as you walked back toward the hallway.

The next meetings were a blur. For reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you found yourself relieved when Jungkook skipped every other meeting for the day. He didn't show up, and Jimin took over. The clients didn’t seem to mind the change, and in fact, it made things easier. Jimin’s presence was soothing.  His voice was soft, his smile was kind. He spoke in careful sentences, his calm composure like a reassuring presence. Working with him was smoother, quieter—lovelier, even. He made the chaos of the day seem more manageable, and you found yourself wishing you found yourself wishing you could work for Jimin, just him.

But you quickly shut that thought down. That wasn’t possible, not when you were stuck in this job, tied to Jungkook. No matter how much you hated it, you had to stick around. It was unviable to leave, even though every part of you screamed for the chance to escape. You have to stick around him.

As the last meeting came to an end, you gathered the files and followed Jimin out of the conference room. He took the files from your hands. You were thankful for his help, but the lingering feeling of being under the spotlight didn’t fade. You hated the attention, and of course, everyone would stare. Having the director of the company himself helping you with your work was far too big of a deal. The eyes of all the female employees had burned into you as you walked out. You couldn’t shake the sense of discomfort, and it only worsened as you stepped into the elevator with Jimin.

"Mr. Park, you really don’t have to do this," you said, offering a shy smile as the elevator doors slid shut behind you.

Jimin, however, seemed unfazed. He gave a lazy smile, his voice light as he answered. "Oh, I’m not doing it for you." Jimin leaned casually against the wall, eyes scanning the floor numbers as they lit up.

You blinked, confused, your brows knitting together. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He turned his head, flashing you a mischievous grin. "It’s more for me, really."

Your frown deepened. "For you?" You couldn’t hide your confusion, but Jimin just chuckled, clearly entertained by your reaction.

"You see," he began, shifting slightly to face you fully. His eyes sparkled with a playful yet sincere gleam. "I come from old money. I just can't stand the idea of a woman doing something like that when I’m around. Makes me feel like I’m failing somewhere. I’ve got this fragile ego, you know?" His voice was light, teasing, but his smile softened as he continued. "It just feels better to help out. Plus, it’s... good manners."

"Yeah?" You asked, tilting your head slightly, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to make sense of his words. The slight smirk tugging at his lips told you he knew you were lost but didn’t care enough to explain. Instead, he only shrugged nonchalantly, his expression  so casual it almost felt dismissive.

Before you could respond further, the elevator dinged softly, and the doors slid open. Jimin stepped out first. You followed behind as you adjusted your grip on the files. He led the way to your cabin, his presence drawing a few curious glances from colleagues. You felt those stares prickling at your back again, but Jimin seemed entirely unbothered. He walked you to your cabin, while you struggled to keep up with his pace. When he finally reached your desk, he placed the stack of five thick files down with practiced ease, brushing invisible dust off his hands like it was no big deal.

"All set. Anything else you need before I head out?" he asked, his voice light as he straightened his blazer.

Thanks again, Mr. Park," you said, shaking your head.

Jimin gave a small nod in return, stepping back. Just as he turned to leave, he glanced over his shoulder. "Take care, pretty," he said, his tone casual, yet the words felt deliberate.

Your hands froze mid-motion as your head snapped up, eyes widening in surprise. Heat rushed to your face, and you felt the unmistakable blush spreading across your cheeks like wildfire. You stared at the empty doorway where Jimin had disappeared, his words echoing in your mind.

"What the hell," you muttered under your breath. Forcing yourself to focus, you picked up the files, flipping through the pages with renewed determination. It was time to finish up for the day, but not before ensuring everything was in order for tomorrow. Your fingers worked quickly, your eyes scanning schedules and notes, the lingering warmth on your cheeks refusing to fade completely.

When you finally finished your work, you grabbed the file Jungkook had instructed you to complete and headed to his office. As you approached, you noticed the door slightly ajar. Through the small gap, you could see Jimin sitting in one of the chairs in front of Jungkook’s desk. Jungkook, on the other hand, sat with his brows furrowed in a way that seemed permanently etched into his face. It was a wonder Jimin didn’t crack under the weight of his perpetual grimace. If he wasn’t so ridiculously good-looking, you were certain his demeanour would’ve been a massive letdown.

"Are you even human?" Jimin's voice rose, his tone laced with disbelief as he leaned forward, his palms slapping against the desk with a dull thud. His lips pressed tightly together. His words seemed to hit like a quiet plea, but Jungkook didn’t seem to care. His eyes stayed glued to his file as he flipped the pages.

"I am dying over here. I am that tired and you are one of the reasons behind it. Don’t you dare ignore me, Jeon Jungkook!" Jimin continued, his voice a mixture of disbelief and frustration. His words grew louder as he leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in the air, as if trying to physically puncture Jungkook’s indifference.

"Huh?" Jungkook’s voice was flat, almost absent, as he gave Jimin just a single glance, his eyes flickering for a mere millisecond before he turned back to the file in his hands. He gave a distracted nod, not sparing Jimin much more attention.

Jimin’s jaw dropped slightly, his annoyance reaching a boiling point. "Seriously!" he exclaimed. His fingers curled into loose fists as he leaned back, pacing a step before planting his hands on his hips. "You made me handle all your meetings and deal with my own workload. I’ve been running around like a headless chicken while you sit here, all cozy with your stupid papers! Do you not have any regard—"

"You're right," Jungkook said, his voice steady and matter-of-fact, cutting off Jimin’s rambling mid-sentence. He slowly closed the file in front of him and placed it neatly to the side. This time, he leaned back in his chair, his posture loosening slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. His dark, boba eyes locked on Jimin’s. "I am sorry, hyung. You're always picking up the slack for me. I don't say it enough, but… I’m really grateful. I couldn’t do this without you."

Jimin froze for a moment, his brow furrowing as he eyed Jungkook suspiciously. His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head, studying Jungkook as if he had just grown a second head. "Oh? What’s wrong with you?" he asked, dragging the words out slowly. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows digging into the edge of Jungkook's desk. "Show me your head. You punk, I’m sure you hit it somewhere."

Jimin shot up from his seat and lunged across the desk with inflated urgency, his hand reaching for Jungkook's head like a concerned but overly dramatic mother.

"Jimin-shi!" Jungkook exclaimed, his voice rising in protest as he swatted at Jimin’s hands. He grabbed Jimin’s wrists, prying them away from his head. His brows knitted together as he leaned back further in his chair, out of reach, glaring at Jimin. "I swear, I’ll kill you."

"There you are," Jimin said, a grin spreading across his face as he let out a sigh. He flopped back into his chair, dramatically wiping his brow as if the ordeal had been exhausting. "I was worried for nothing. Glad to see the real  grumpy, homicidal self's still here."

Before they could exchange any more words, you finally stepped forward, your knuckles rapping lightly on the doorframe.

Knock, knock.

The sound broke through, causing both their heads to snap in your direction.

For a moment, you felt rooted to the spot, like a deer caught in headlights. You tightened your grip on the file in your hands, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you felt. Clearing your throat, you finally stepped inside. "Sorry to interrupt," you said.

Jimin’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he tilted his head, gesturing toward the file. "It’s fine. Come in. Looks like someone’s got work to do, unlike us," he teased, his tone light.

You tried your best to force a smile onto your face—a polite, controlled, and friendly expression—but as your eyes met his. Your throat felt like it had closed up, your voice thin and wobbly. Why did he make you so nervous? Yes, he was intimidating. Yes, you’d dealt with difficult bosses before. But there was something about him—something that felt wrong, a shrill, intense warning in the back of your mind, like a distant alarm telling you danger was near.

Your heels clicked softly against the floor as you passed Jimin’s chair. He was sitting casually, his hands clasped behind his head, completely at ease as he looked over at you. You stopped beside Jungkook's desk, just behind where Jimin was sitting. "Mr. Jeon, I just finished the tasks you assigned." Your voice was soft but steady as you extended the file toward him. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, though it felt like staring into the eye of the devil. "Here’s the file. I’m leaving now, so I was wondering if there’s anything else you need before I go?"

Jungkook didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, slowly and precisely. His sharp gaze scanned your face, lingering on your forced smile before sliding down to the file you’d placed on his desk. A smirk curled at the corners of his lips, and his eyes—soft and doe-like at first glance—betrayed a sharp, predatory glint. "Actually," he drawled, his voice carried an edge that made your pulse quicken. He gestured lazily toward the towering stack of files on the far corner of his desk. "I do need something."

Your eyes widened as they darted to the stack, a silent gasp catching in your throat. The files seemed endless. You swallowed hard, glancing back at him, but his expression was unreadable. You couldn’t decide if you were more nervous or outright afraid of what was coming next. "See those files?" he continued, tilting his head slightly, his tone casual as if he were commenting on the weather. "I need them reviewed and sorted by tomorrow."

And you just stood there for a moment, trying to figure out whether you had a choice, or if you were already drowning. Tomorrow? That was impossible. You turned back to Jungkook, hoping to find some hint that he was joking, but his expression was calm and unyielding, like carved stone.

"I…" you began, but your voice faltered.

"Something wrong?" Jungkook asked, tilting his head slightly as if daring you to argue.

It was your first day, and you couldn’t understand what went wrong. You’d always thought Jungkook was handsome, admired him from the glossy pages of magazines and the distant buzz of news. You'd been excited, so excited to work for the most wanted bachelor in the continent. But now? Now, it wasn’t going as planned.

Too much work. Too much. How could anyone be expected to handle this much work? You thought you could handle challenges, but this? This felt impossible. This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. You’d probably have to sell your soul to some demon and even then, it still wouldn’t feel enough. You couldn’t do this. You shouldn’t have to do this. But the thought of giving up? That wasn’t even an option. You wanted to scream. No. You didn't want to scream you wanted to kick him where the sun doesn't shine.

"To-tomorrow," you stammered, barely able to believe the words coming out of your mouth. You were close to snapping, but something in his gaze made you hesitate.

"Impossible?" Jungkook interrupted, his voice a low, smooth. His eyes locked on yours, the warmth in them replaced with ice. "I’m not interested in hearing any excuses. You need to understand where and for who you’re working. Workload is a usual thing here. You either do it or resign. It’s up to you. Nobody’s begging you to stay."

The words were harsh. There was no softness to them, no room for debate, no compromise. He wanted you to know that you had no power here. His small, smug smile confirmed it—a clear taunt, a game to him, and you could feel it deep in your bones. He wasn’t just being cold. No, he enjoyed this. He was tormenting you, and you knew it. He was such a sadistic being.

"Understood," you said, the words coming out of your mouth with a firmness that surprised even you.

You turned your back to him and grabbed the stack of files from where they were carelessly left. The moment you lifted them, you knew this was going to be hell. It was heavy—too heavy—far heavier than you’d expected. Your arms shook as you struggled to balance them. You almost stumbled under the sheer force of it, but you steadied yourself.

You bit your lip, fighting back the urge to ask Jimin for help. You glanced toward him, only to find that he and Jungkook were locked in a silent staring match, their gazes locked like two wolves sizing each other up.  Jimin looked like he was about to explode. You couldn’t drag him into this. He already looked like he was walking a thin line, and you didn’t want to add to the fire. Besides, Jimin looked angry enough already.

So, you started walking.

You struggled your way out of his office. Your legs wobbled under the weight, and you nearly stumbled into the doorframe as you tried to maintain your balance. You wanted to scream. You hated him. You hated everything about this. Him. His handsome face. His smug smile. His icy tone. His ridiculous expectations. In truth, you’d never felt this much resentment toward anyone. Not even your previous bosses had managed to push you this far. But Jungkook? He was something else entirely. A walking nightmare wrapped in a handsome package, and you were stuck in it.

The moment you stepped into your office, you slammed the door behind you. You were done. You were going home. You couldn’t wait to get out of here. You grabbed your bag and purse. You cursed under your breath, knowing you couldn’t leave without grabbing those files too. There was no way you were going to spend another minute in that sterile, over-designed office. You adjusted the files again, and with a final shake of your head, you stepped out of your office. Your feet moved on autopilot as you walked toward the elevators. You didn’t look back. There wasn’t any point.

You knew you’d have to come back.

You knew you’d have to face him again.

But for now, you needed to get out.

The first day had been hell, all thanks to your devilish boss.

Jungkook and Jimin stepped out of Jungkook’s office. Jimin shot a sharp glare at Jungkook, his brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. Jungkook, on the other hand, wore a smug, teasing smile that danced at the corners of his mouth. He could feel Jimin’s annoyance and found it far too satisfying to ignore.

"Jiminshi," Jungkook said casually, but Jimin didn’t even give him a second glance, his jaw clenched as he exhaled sharply.

“Shut up,” Jimin snapped back without hesitation, the heat in his voice enough to make Jungkook pause for a second. It almost made him laugh, but he quickly held it back, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Come on, Jimin. We’re already late. And Jin hyung will be mad if we get even more late," Jungkook added, his tone light but carrying an edge of urgency. His smile was easy and easygoing, the kind that always got under Jimin’s skin, and this time, it did the trick. Jimin let out a slow, exasperated breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as he let his irritation simmer down. He nodded once, fingers gripping his phone a little too tightly. His hand flexed as he tucked it back into his pocket, his gaze fixed forward as they walked towards the elevator side by side.

Jungkook pushed the button to call the elevator, and Jimin stood next to him, arms crossed, still giving off that frustrated vibe. But Jungkook could see the edges of his irritation slowly dulling. Even if Jimin was pissed, he wouldn’t stay mad for long. Jimin was always the wise one, and he knew that getting upset over Jungkook's antics wouldn’t help anything. Jin had invited them for dinner tonight, and they both knew this wasn’t just another casual evening. Jimin had told Jin about you—how Jungkook couldn’t hear your thoughts, which still felt weird and foreign to him. It was strange, unsettling in a way, and Jin had wanted to discuss it. He’d called them both over, saying he needed to talk. Jungkook was curious about what Jin had in mind. It wasn’t every day that Jin invited them over, especially not without a reason.

The elevator doors opened, and Jungkook gestured for Jimin to enter first. Jimin grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue. Jungkook stepped in behind him, and the two of them stood in silence. He was looking forward to the evening, not only to talk things out but also to meet Jin's wife. She was a kind and sweet woman. If it wasn't for Taehyung, they would have never met her. Jin had been married for years, but he rarely invited anyone over, keeping his personal life guarded. Jungkook and Jimin always looked forward to her company. Jin, on the other hand, was borderline obsessed with her. It was impossible not to notice the way he adored her. They all had to be on their best behavior when she was around, though—Jin’s protective streak was well known.

The elevator doors closed with a quiet swoosh. They descended in silence, the air feeling heavier as their thoughts swirled. Both knew this night would give them more answers, but they weren’t sure what kind of questions would arise afterward.

Jungkook and Jimin soon stepped into the reception area. The receptionist was seated at her desk, typing quickly, and her head lifted the moment she saw them. She offered a polite smile as they approached.

"Good evening, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Park," she greeted warmly. Jungkook didn’t even spare her a glance. His eyes stayed ahead as he strode past her. He could hear her thoughts—granted, not every single word, but enough. Disgusting. Intrusive. He had no shame in admitting it. He didn’t feel the need to entertain it, so he ignored her completely.

Jimin, however, was different. His easy smile came naturally as he gave her a small, polite nod. His body language was relaxed, his movements smooth as he walked beside Jungkook toward the parking lot. His gaze was neutral, a simple act of kindness that contrasted sharply with Jungkook's indifference.

They reached the parking lot, and Jimin climbed into his car, his fingers gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. He had originally planned on making Jungkook drive, but the irritation bubbling in him from earlier—the way Jungkook had acted with you—made him rethink. He was annoyed, not just because of what happened, but because Jungkook’s behavior had crossed a line. It wasn’t professionalism; it was just unnecessary rudeness. Pure and simple. Jimin had half a mind to lecture him, but instead, he started the engine, the sound of it roaring to life filling the air.

But Jungkook didn’t get in his own car. His eyes weren’t on Jimin, nor were they on the road. They were locked on something—or rather, someone.

You.

You were standing by your car, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your head bowed slightly. Your shoulders looked tense, rigid, the way they always did when you were tired. You were clearly trying to calm yourself, but your lips were moving. You were speaking to yourself, or maybe the wind, but Jungkook could see it—your face contorted into something that looked like frustration, like rage.

He observed you. His body was suddenly heavy, his thoughts distracted. You looked like you wanted to set the entire parking lot on fire. From the way your hands tightened into fists by your sides, Jungkook could tell you were seething, clearly ready to explode. He couldn’t hear your thoughts, couldn’t read your mind like he could with everyone else, but it didn’t matter. Your expression was enough. You were cursing him out, he was sure of it.

It felt wrong to stare, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was like an itch buried beneath his skin. His entire body ached to know what you were saying, but you were like a closed book—impossible to read. It irritated him. That feeling of helplessness, the itch he couldn’t scratch. He hated not knowing exactly what you were thinking, hated that he couldn’t tap into the storm swirling behind those eyes. You looked like you wanted to strangle him, and the idea actually made him chuckle darkly to himself.

As much as he hated to admit it, there was something oddly magnetic about you. You looked so exhausted, so ready to shatter, your emotions playing across your face like an open book he couldn’t read. And that drove him insane. He wanted to know all of you. Every thought. Every word. Every secret. But he couldn’t. And it pissed him off.

His chest tightened as he studied you, his mind working in circles. Even though you looked like you were about to explode with frustration, there was a strange sense of calm that settled over him. Paradoxically, your anger—your confusion—was like a balm to his restless thoughts. His hands twitched at his sides.

And you, completely unaware of his gaze, kept muttering, your words too quiet for him to catch. The cold wind swayed your hair, and Jungkook wondered if you had any idea what you were doing to him. He hated that he cared. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to know.

He shifted his weight, a part of him wanting to walk away, but another part of him... couldn’t. He hated how curious he was about you. You were a puzzle he couldn’t solve, and that was something Jungkook couldn’t stand.

You suddenly turned your head, catching Jungkook’s eyes locked on you. Jungkook’s breath hitched. The shock of being caught sent a wave of heat through his chest. His eyes widened in alarm. Shit.

He knew. He knew you caught him. His face twisted into a mix of panic and frustration, and before he could overthink it, he whipped his head around, his heart pounding. He didn’t wait. He didn’t hesitate. He bolted into his car, yanked the door open, and slammed it shut behind him. Without looking back, the engine roared to life as he slammed his foot on the accelerator, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. He sped out of the parking lot, his focus darting between the road and his rearview mirror, where you were barely visible in the distance.

But before he could even breathe a sigh of relief, the heavens opened up. Rain poured down in sheets, soaking everything in an instant.

And then—he cursed.

He hated the rain. It always made him feel fragile, exposed, as though the world was pressing in on him in a way he couldn’t control. The sound of it pounding on the roof, the windshield, and the pavement—it was overwhelming, and it irritated him that he couldn’t understand why. It was stupid.

He glanced at the road, but Jimin’s car was nowhere to be seen. Of course, Jimin was probably already halfway there, and here he was, alone and soaked in this awful weather. His head was a mess, and his frustration felt tenfold. Great. He groaned, slamming his palm against the steering wheel. Perfect. The rain made it harder to see, the windshield wipers swishing furiously, but still, everything was blurry. Most people would’ve slowed down, maybe even pulled over. But Jungkook wasn’t like most people. So, he didn’t. His foot pressed harder against the gas, not caring about the storm that made the road slippery and hard to see.

Then, Jungkook’s eyes caught sight of Jimin’s car parked outside a convenience store, headlights flickering through the rain. He let out a soft, amused chuckle, shaking his head.

Typical Jimin.

Jimin was probably picking up some random snacks or an odd gift for Jin and his wife. The thought made him grin—what could you possibly find at a convenience store that would be good enough for dinner with Jin and his wife? Not much, he figured. But Jimin would always find a way to make things interesting. There was no way Jimin would have time to get something nice, and even if he did, Jin wouldn’t care. Namjoon wouldn’t even be there; he was off with his girlfriend. It was the kind of casual thing Jimin would do, and Jungkook was sure Taehyung along with Eunji (Namjoon's girlfriend's daughter) would tease him mercilessly about whatever he picked up. He could already imagine the scene: Jimin sulking, pretending to be annoyed, but secretly enjoying the attention. He spotted Jimin emerging from the door, an awkward bag in his hands, and he wondered what he had found.

But it wasn’t enough to make him stop. He didn’t want to be stuck in the rain any longer, so he pressed on, the road slick with water. The roads were empty. His headlights swept through the downpour, and the sound of his engine roared louder, mixing with the patter of the rain. The world felt gray and cold, and for a moment, he wondered if anyone else was even out here. His eyes darted, blinked twice, then three times in quick succession. A sharp flash of light broke through the downpour—streetlights, or headlights—too fast, too sudden. He squinted, trying to make sense of it, but his vision was useless against the storm.

Something’s coming.

Before he could react, he felt it. A sharp, sudden jolt as his car lost control. His hand gripped the wheel harder, his muscles tensed. He tried desperately to turn the steering wheel, left, right—anything to steady the car—but it felt as though the wheels had no grip at all. His breathing came out in short, sharp bursts.

And then it hit.

The sound was deafening—metal groaning, glass shattering. Jungkook’s body was thrown against the seat as the car twirled. He barely registered the impact before the airbag exploded in his face with a loud whoosh, his head slamming into it with force. His vision blurred, and the pain came, biting and sudden. His chest felt tight, his breaths shallow. The car spun—once, twice, thrice. His hands trembled against the steering wheel, and his head throbbed painfully. His heart felt as though it would pound out of his chest.

For a moment, everything went silent. He could feel his body shaking. His head swam, dizziness clouding his vision. His pulse raced as the rush of adrenaline hit, but then, fear—a feeling he rarely ever felt—took over. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. Not after Mr. Park took him in. Not after Jimin became his family. He wasn’t supposed to feel this vulnerable. But now, the sensation was loud and personal, crawling up to his heart, through his arms, and into his bones.

Jungkook's world spun around him, the blur of the rain and the crash fading into nothingness. Suddenly, time seemed to stop. The sound of the storm, the screeching tires, everything disappeared. He wasn’t in his car anymore. He wasn’t even on the road. No, he was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere warm.

He was seven again.

The leather seats were soft, comforting, and the scent of his mother’s perfume lingered in the air. The only sound was the soft hum of the engine, a calm contrast to the chaos he had just left behind. He glanced around. His father was driving, hands steady on the wheel, wearing his familiar cheeky smile. His mother sat beside him, head against the window, her gaze distant but peaceful. Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in the back seat, squeezed between the seatbelt and the door. His arms were crossed tightly, shoulders hunched in frustration, as he kept his head down to avoid their attention.

“Hun, how long until we get there?” his mother’s voice broke the calm, soft and uncertain, reaching his father’s ears. She turned her head toward him with a small smile, her face lit faintly by the dashboard glow.

Mr. Jeon turned toward her, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. He shot her a cheery look, his eyes soft with affection as he answered. “Quite,” was all he said, but there was a warmth in his voice that made her smile.

But then Mr. Jeon's eyes found him.

Jungkook was sitting in the backseat, his little arms crossed tightly over his chest, his puffy cheeks flushed red. His head was turned toward the window, a frown tugging at his lips.

"What happened, Jung?" His father asked gently, voice full of care.

Jungkook’s gaze flickered up to meet his father's eyes, but he didn’t speak. Jungkook just huffed, his lip curling slightly, trying to hold back more tears. His arms tightened around himself, his small body so tense it seemed like he was trying to disappear into the seat. His eyes welled up again, and he sniffled, looking away.

“He don’t want to go.” Mrs. Jeon whispered softly, her voice light but firm, as though she’d been trying to ease the situation for some time. She shifted in her seat, her hands lightly brushing her white Chanel dress.

"I know that," Mr. Jeon said with a soft chuckle, his eyes flicking back to Jungkook. "But why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Mrs. Jeon shrugged her shoulders, turning toward her husband with a helpless smile, her eyes glinting faintly with understanding. “You know how shy he is,” she whispered to him, just loud enough for him to hear but not Jungkook. Her voice was soft and wrapped in familiarity, like a gentle assurance.

Mr. Jeon chuckled softly, nodding in understanding. He then turned his attention back to Jungkook, his smile wide and encouraging. “But Taehyung will be there, too. Don’t you want to play with your hyung?” he teased, wiggling his brows playfully as he spoke.

Jungkook’s expression twisted with irritation. He pouted even more, his arms folding tighter across his chest. “No,” he snapped, his voice a little louder than before. “No, Taehyungie.” He refused to even look at his father, turning his head toward the window. His little hands balled into fists at his sides as he sat there.

Mr. Jeon froze for a moment at Jungkook’s sudden outburst. His eyes widened briefly as he glanced back at his son in the rearview mirror, but he let it go. He wasn’t angry—he never was with his son—but the outburst was unexpected. Jungkook wasn’t one to open up easily, and Mr. Jeon understood that. It wasn’t that Jungkook disliked Taehyung; he just couldn’t handle him. Taehyung was too much—too loud, too dramatic, too confident for Jungkook’s liking. His endless antics and unshakable charm always rubbed Jungkook the wrong way. It was easier for Jungkook to retreat into his shell than to deal with someone like Taehyung. Jungkook preferred the quiet, the safety of his own thoughts, while Taehyung was none of those things.

“Park uncle and his son are coming too. You wanted to meet Park uncle’s son?” Mr. Jeon tried again, his voice light and filled with gentle encouragement. He glanced back briefly, his brow furrowed slightly. He wanted Jungkook to at least be excited.

They were heading toward the Kim mansion for a grand party. A formal event with a lot of people, glittering dresses, and chatter. The kind of place where smiles felt like currency and charm was the language. It was important because their families shared good relationships with the Kim's. It was a social obligation.

But Jungkook didn’t bite. His gaze fixed on the rain streaking down the window. He pressed his cheek harder against the cold glass, the coolness against his skin doing little to ease the rising frustration in his chest. He wasn’t interested. His father’s words barely registered in his mind. The whole idea of going to a big event, the crowded space, the noise—it all just felt overwhelming.

“No,” Jungkook muttered, his voice tight, almost as if he were trying to seal off any further conversation. He could feel his father’s eyes on him, but he didn’t care. He didn't want to go. Not to meet Park Uncle’s son. Not to that party. Not anywhere. He wanted to stay home. He hated people. All of them. Parties. Crowds. They made his skin crawl. Even though Park uncle was always kind and brought him chocolate, even though he was gentle and easy to talk to, it didn’t matter. Meeting his son was a thought that felt like a chore.

Mr. Jeon’s face softened with a small, exasperated sigh. He turned his head, catching his wife’s eye for a brief moment. Mrs. Jeon gently tapped his arm, urging him to stop pushing Jungkook. But Mr. Jeon didn’t listen. He could see his son’s discomfort and it worried him. He wasn’t going to let it slide this time.

“Son, listen,” he began, trying again with more patience, his voice firm but not unkind. “You should—”

But his words were cut short by the sudden screech of tires and a blinding flash of headlights, too bright, too fast. Then—boom. Something slammed into their car, a deafening crash that shook everything around him. The impact tore through them, sending the car off the road. The world spun wildly, glass shattered, metal twisted, and screams filled the air. His head smacked against the seatbelt, his shoulders pulled hard by the force as the car twisted and turned like a broken toy. His arms flailed, his hands gripping at anything they could find, but there was nothing.

Finally, the car came to a violent stop and everything felt eerily quiet. The sound of the engine sputtering, the hiss of rain, and the faint, dull ringing in his ears filled his senses. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, but his head spun. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. His chest was tight, his breath shallow. Through his blurred vision, he saw it—them. Blood streaked his vision, dark and warm as it trickled into his eyes from a gash on his forehead. His breath came in short, broken pants. He couldn’t see clearly—everything felt distorted, red, and wrong.  His mother was there. Her body was twisted, crumpled, unnatural, and there was so much blood. Everywhere but specially beneath her.

“Mom…” he whispered, his voice broken, a thin, desperate sound. His lips trembled, his head shaking as though he could will it away, but the horror wouldn’t leave. His small hands gripped at his seatbelt again, his fingers sticky, his face soaked with rain and fear. All he knew was that his mother was hurt, she was bleeding and wasn't moving.  No, no, no… His chest ached, a desperate pain that he couldn’t understand.

His eyes shifted to his father, still breathing, but barely. His father’s chest rose weakly, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead, and Jungkook’s heart twisted in his chest. “Dada…” His voice cracked, the sound barely more than a whimper as he reached out for his father, his small hands pressing against the seat. The fear was suffocating, but the pain of seeing his father so helpless, so close to slipping away, was worse. His body shook uncontrollably, his tiny frame trying to fight the overwhelming terror that threatened to swallow him whole.

The silence felt unbearable. Everything around him felt like a blur, yet every detail was all real and painstrikingly cruel. His hands trembled, his body shaking, his chest aching as he waited—desperately—for some kind of answer. But before his father could respond, figures emerged from the darkness dressed in black uniforms that glistened faintly under the rain. Their presence felt wrong, but the night itself was nothing if wasn't sinful. Jungkook’s head spun, his ears ringing painfully. The sound was distorted, every word like a distant, broken whisper. But the fragments came through, jagged and broken.

“And, it’s done... Wasn't much. Let him suffer.”

Jungkook visibly flinched at their words, his heart hammering against his ribcage. His ears rang painfully, making it hard to hear, but the fragments reached him like poison.

“He denied boss, after all.”

"Hmm, all he needed was that file. Black orchid project's file."

 "Yeah, stupid motherfucker." They turned to leave, but then one of them paused, looking back at Mr. Jeon’s bloody form, a sinister smile creeping across his face. “You know, since you’re dying anyways, let me tell you something… we found her. We got the first kid from the Black Orchid project. And with her, we’ll get them all. And with you dead, who will stop us.”

Their laughter was cruel and hollow, echoing in the stillness like nails scraping across the floor. Jungkook’s chest tightened, and his stomach churned, bile rising in his throat as they disappeared into the rain. The words haunted him, swirling in his mind, but before he could process them, another sound broke through—the sound of his father’s breath.

Mr. Jeon’s body shifted, his chest rising and falling in labored, shallow breaths. His tear-streaked face twisted with pain as his eyes met Jungkook’s, the weight of everything crashing down in those last, fleeting moments. “Jungkook…” His voice was raw, barely a whisper, but it carried so much guilt that it felt like it could suffocate him. “I’m so sorry, my boy… this… this is all because of me.”

“Dada…” His voice was cracked, shaky, the fear rising in his chest like a storm. His hand reached out instinctively, trembling, but it fell short, his small fingers grazing the air instead of his father’s skin.

Just as Jungkook’s vision began to blur, another sound broke through the haze—the screech of tires and the distant sound of shoes splashing through the rain. Relief flickered faintly in his chest. Someone was coming. But his blurry gaze couldn’t make out who it was.

A pair of feet appeared before him, followed by the frantic sound of someone running, slipping in the rain as they skidded to a halt next to the wreckage.

 It was Mr. Park, panting, his face pale with shock as he took in the horror before him.

Mr. Park dropped to his knees beside the wreckage, his hands trembling as they hovered over the twisted metal, unable to focus on anything but the devastation before him. His breath hitched in his chest as his gaze fell on Mrs. Jeon’s crumpled, lifeless form, and the tears welled up instantly, blurring his vision. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. All he could manage was a broken, “Oh, my... How… what?” His gaze settled on Jungkook’s mother, crumpled and lifeless in the front seat, and his breath hitched. His hands gripped the cold, wet metal of the car, his entire body shaking as he fought the overwhelming wave of fear and sorrow threatening to drown him.

“Hang on! I’ll get you both out, I promise!” His voice cracked as he spoke, his hands fumbling against the seatbelt, desperate to pull them free.

But Mr. Jeon, with great effort, shook his head. His face was pale, slick with sweat, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. His voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but the words cut through the chaos. “No... no... listen to me.” He coughed, his body convulsing from the effort, and blood spattered onto his chest. “I... I won’t be able to make it out of here. Take Jungkook... get him out... and raise him. There’s no one else I trust more than you, Park. You’re like a brother to me. Please... take care of him... like he’s your own.”

Mr. Park’s eyes filled with tears, and he squeezed them shut for a moment, trying to push back the wave of grief threatening to drown him. His chest tightened, and his voice cracked as he fought to keep it steady. “I will. I promise. But don’t say that, we can still—”

“No…” Mr. Jeon’s voice was barely a whisper now, weak and distant, almost drowned out by the rain. The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips, but it quickly disappeared as he coughed, blood staining his mouth. “It’s too late for me… just save him. Please.”

Mr. Park’s hand trembled as it hovered over Mr. Jeon’s, and he nodded, his lips trembling. He wasn’t ready to accept this, but he knew there was no choice. “I’ll take him,” he whispered. “I’ll take him, I promise.”

With trembling hands, Mr. Park unbuckled Jungkook, his heart breaking at the sight of the boy’s tear-streaked face, pale and bloodied. The tiny body was limp in his arms, and he fought to hold back his own tears, knowing it wouldn’t help. Jungkook’s head lolled against his shoulder, eyes barely open, blinking with confusion and fear, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

“I’ve got you,” Mr. Park whispered, his voice rough with emotion, his arms tightening around Jungkook as he lifted him from the wreckage. Jungkook’s head rested against his chest, the faintest stir of breath against his skin. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, though he knew nothing about this could ever be okay. If anything, he himself didn't trust his words. They felt hollow.

“I’ll be back to get you. And I’ll get you out too, just hang there,” he said, his voice final, desperate, and certain. His hands trembled as he cradled Jungkook against his chest, his gaze flickering back toward Mr. Jeon, whose eyes were barely open. Mr. Park wasn't sure if he was even capable enough to fulfil that promise, but at that moment, it was all he could offer; it was all he had left.

Mr. Jeon’s eyes fluttered, a faint nod the only response he could manage. His body had grown so still, but the tear streaked face, the way his lips trembled, said everything. He knew it was a promise that wouldn’t be kept—but he nodded anyway, and the last bit of hope faded in the silence of the wreckage. With one final glance, Mr. Park turned, his arms cradling Jungkook against him, as he ran toward safety, the boy’s limp body a stark contrast to the life and pain surrounding them. The rain continued to pour, and with each step, it felt like the world was slipping further away.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered weakly as he was carried to Mr. Park’s car. His small body felt light and cold against the older man’s chest. Inside the vehicle, Jimin sat in the backseat, his wide eyes staring at the scene before him. His small hands gripped the edge of his seat tightly, his knuckles pale in the dim glow of the headlights. When Mr. Park placed Jungkook beside him, Jimin’s shock melted into a visible concern. His little face was a mix of worry and gentleness as he shifted closer, his small body trembling slightly. Without hesitation, he wrapped his tiny arms around Jungkook, pulling him into a hug. The warmth of Jimin’s embrace was so soft, so comforting, but it felt like it wasn’t enough.

“Don’t cry… it’s okay, don’t cry,” Jimin whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he pulled Jungkook closer. Jungkook’s eyes burned, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. His throat was tight, his chest hollow with loss. The last thing he felt before the world around him went black was Jimin’s arms, holding him tight, and the warmth that felt fragile, like a thread ready to snap.

Meanwhile, Mr. Park’s hands were shaking, his desperation choking his every movement as he turned back to the wreck. His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted toward the flames, but he didn’t make it. Before he could even reach the wreckage, the explosion erupted in a violent wave, the flames licking at the sky as they consumed the car. The explosion rocked the ground beneath him, the heat so intense it scorched his skin, and the rain didn’t do a thing to stop the inferno. The sound of the blast echoed in his chest, and for a moment, Mr. Park stood frozen, his body trembling from the shock, the image of his closest friend burning into his mind.  His breath caught in his throat, his heart twisted painfully, but he couldn’t move. He watched as the fire consumed everything—everything he had hoped to save. The rain poured harder, but it was useless against the inferno.

And just like that, Jungkook lost everything in one brutal, cruel instant. His mind hung on that moment, the crackling fire and the unyielding rain swallowing it all. The sound of the explosion still rang in his ears as he was pulled from the memory. Another sharp, blinding flash of light cut through his closed eyelids, yanking him out of his haze. His head throbbed painfully, the beat of his pulse a steady rhythm that seemed to match the aching in his skull.

A car screeched to a halt in front of him, the sound cutting through the fog in his mind like a blade. For a moment, he thought it was Jimin. But that couldn’t be right—Jimin was way behind him, far away from this mess, in a safe place. How could he have gotten ahead so fast? Jungkook’s thoughts came fast and fragmented. His breaths came quicker, his hands trembling harder as his body tensed with uncertainty.

What was happening? Was it Jimin? Was it someone else? His mind felt fractured, his body unable to respond. His body felt paralysed, useless.

The driver stepped out into the downpour, his black uniform drenched in seconds, but he moved forward with an unsettling calm. The sight of the uniform—it was like a switch had been flipped inside Jungkook. But his thoughts were too scattered, too foggy, to make sense of it. The closer the man got, the louder the buzz in Jungkook’s head grew, like lightening sissling through his skull. It was unbearable. His hands flew to his temples, fingers digging in desperately, but the pain only intensified. A low, broken groan escaped his throat.

Without warning, a loud, brutal crash shattered the silence. The man had smashed the car window. The sound tore through his body like a physical blow, breaking his fragile focus. His eyes flew open just as he felt the sting of broken glass. The shards flying like tiny stars of pain that bit into his skin. Before Jungkook could even flinch, a rough hand wrapped around his collar and yanked him from the seat. He was dragged out into the downpour, the cold, icy rain slamming into his face, washing away the blood. The cold slapped against his skin like a thousand tiny knives, but he was too weak to react. His limbs were heavy, his body numb, as if it wasn’t even his own. He couldn’t fight back. The man dragged him across the slick road like he weighed nothing, and with a brutal toss, he was slammed onto the wet pavement. His body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and the cold, muddy water instantly soaked through his clothes, seeping into his bones.

He forced himself to push up or at least he tired. His hands trembled, weak and brittle, but he couldn’t hold himself. His body gave out, and he collapsed back into the mud with a helpless, wet sound. His face turned upward, the rain blurring his vision, every droplet a sharp needle that dug into his skin. His chest heaved, his breaths coming in shallow bursts, but the pain in his skull, his limbs, and his chest refused to go away. Jungkook tried again, his body shaking harder this time. His head swayed from side to side as he struggled, but the rain felt endless, each droplet pounding into him, each one deeper, colder, meaner. His heartbeat was an erratic drumbeat in his chest, thudding against his ribs like it might give out at any moment. His vision remained a hazy blur—everything was grey, wet, and cold, and the pounding in his skull grew stronger with every heartbeat.

Jungkook’s eyes fought to stay open, his vision blurring more with each passing second, but the shape of the man in front of him became clearer. The man in the black uniform loomed over him, a dark, shifting figure that blurred in the rain. His face was a shadow, but the smirk on his lips was cruel and clear.

The man’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched Jungkook struggle beneath him, barely able to lift himself up on one elbow. His hand gripped the gun with a steady, deadly calm, and as he crouched down, water splashed from his chin, droplets falling onto Jungkook’s face. “Look at you,” he sneered, voice dripping with mockery, “pathetic. No high and mighty prince now, huh? Where’s your guard dog to save you?”

Jungkook’s chest heaved in ragged breaths, his heart hammering in his ribcage. He could feel the weight of his body dragging him further into the puddle, the cold seeping into his bones, but his muscles were too weak to fight back. His hand twitched, desperately trying to reach for something—anything—to push himself up, but it shook violently, unable to get any purchase. He gritted his teeth, eyes clouded with pain and dizziness, unable to respond, unable to do anything but lie there and take it.

“today was my lucky day, I guess,”  he laughed.

“You’ve been a thorn in our side for too long,” the man continued, his voice dropping lower as he straightened, standing taller. His form was solid and imposing, his boots kicking mud as he took a step back. The gun rose, glinting under the pale light of the streetlamps. The barrel was cold, steady, and pointed directly at Jungkook’s chest.

“Time to put you out of your misery, kid. Join mommy and daddy. I wager... You’ve been dying to.” A cold sweat broke out across Jungkook’s skin even in shrill rain, and for a brief moment, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, flicking between the gun and the man’s mocking face, terror clawing at him from the inside. His chest tightened, his body frozen as the world spun around him, and he tried once more to move, to escape, but his legs were useless, as if the earth beneath him was swallowing him whole. All that remained was the sharp, unrelenting noise of the rain and the sickening sound of the man’s finger inching toward the trigger.

Jungkook’s body went rigid as the man’s words echoed in his mind. His heart thundered in his chest as the memories of his parents flooded him—their lifeless eyes, the blood staining the night, the terror that gripped him then and now. His hands, slick with cold rain, shook uncontrollably as he stared at the barrel of the gun. His throat constricted, but no words came out—only a choked sob that was lost in the downpour.

The man’s grin widened, cruel and savage, as he inched his finger toward the trigger. Jungkook could see the gleam in his eyes, the satisfaction of finally having the power to take everything from him. The laughter in his voice was sharp, like glass scraping against his skin, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he squeezed the trigger.

"Goodbye, Jeon Jungkook."

The gunshot shattered the night—louder than the storm, louder than the pounding in Jungkook's ears. For a brief, agonizing moment, the world seemed to stop. The rain paused in midair, hanging like frozen tears, the wind silenced as if holding its breath. Jungkook felt the world tilt beneath him, and his body instinctively braced for the impact that was supposed to come.

a/n: So, how’d you guys like it? Hate it? Loved it? I need the feedback, break me, but like... gently, okay? I’m fragile and I’ll cry, like, on the spot. But honestly, there might be some grammatical disasters in there. Why? Because I got sick and just didn’t have the energy to do much editing work on it. So yeah, don’t judge me too hard, I’m basically a walking disaster right now. Also, I really hope you still love Jungkook after reading this. Please don’t hate him. Show him some love. And, like, show me some too, because my ego is starving. Tell me how amazing it was (or, like, pretend it was) and boost my fragile little ego, okay? I need it. Love ya, guys!

[bluelockmaniac]

⊹ ࣪ ˖𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓-𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄

↳ "a cute first encounter which leads to a romantic relationship later on."

ITOSHI SAE'S ONE-SHOT VERSION !

↳ not recognizing the renowned player piques his interest in you <3

click here for the bllk various version .

each early morning, before practice, sae made it a habit to stop by the local cafe for a cup of freshly brewed coffee. it was a routine he followed to keep himself awake from either the tedious interviews his manager always nags him about, or the unexciting plays his teammates offered. but today, this conventional drill would deviate from its norm. 

as usual, he ordered the pungent drink and stepped out of the establishment to continue on with the events his day promised, only to abruptly collide with you, splattering warm coffee all across his jersey. you were running at a fast pace, late to work for the second time this week, and you definitely did not want to face your manager’s scolding again.

for a moment, he stood there, stunned, blinking at the spreading stain. slowly, his gaze lifted to lock on your frantic, worried eyes.

“i’m so sorry, sir!” you stammered, quickly pulling out a handkerchief to absorb what you could of the bitter liquid, completely oblivious to the name on his jersey. perhaps he was a really big fan of some bigshot football player, you assumed. “i wasn’t paying attention– you see, i’m late for work and—”

“it’s alright.” he retorted calmly, though a very subtle hint of annoyance laced his words. he gently pushed your hand away from his chest and sent the now empty cup flying into the distant trash can with his foot.

your wide eyes sparkled in amazement as he made the shot. “woah, sir, do you play football? you have a really good aim! is the player named…” you made a quick loop around him to check the back of his jersey, “...‘sae’, your inspiration?”

sae lifts a brow, surprised by your lack of recognition. it was not often that he met someone unaware of japan’s prodigy player, who had made a significant name for himself in spain. nonetheless, you had certainly made quite an impression on the professional player— and he was rather fond of it. however, he wasn’t about to conceal the fact that he was the owner of the name on his jersey.

“i am sae, dumbass,” he points out.

“who?” you inquired innocently, your attention focused more on his striking features than the insult he had just thrown your way. if there was such an attractive, famous young man (despite his foul tongue), you would have known him by now. but, you decide to shoot your shot anyway; it would be a waste to let go of such a handsome guy.

“also, is it possible if i could get your number?” you asked almost flirtatiously, before realizing the awkwardness of the situation. “i mean, i’d love to, uh, pay you back for the coffee you spilled.”

“hmm?” he glanced at your uniform, then pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket with a sigh. “you’ve done nothing to make yourself worthy of having my number.”

“–wait, i really do apologize for spilling your coffee, sae—”

“but,” he pauses, handing you the paper with a shrug. “you ought to keep me entertained.”

with a final glance at your love-stricken expression, he turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner. with your heart racing, you eagerly smooth out the crumpled paper and scan its contents; itoshi sae’s neatly written phone number. you actually received the aloof man’s contact! but… 

you were fired. well, this should be enough to keep him entertained, right?

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[sugarushwriting]

fratboy heeseung part 3 and he redeemed himself with you…a little too well

nsfw

not proof read

reblog, like, comment

do not repost or translate please

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

heeseung couldn’t help but watch you as you slept. in his bed.

it was a first, but the smile never faded.

it was currently 3 in the afternoon and you were still sleeping, being worn out from…earlier activities with him.

after he helped you to the bathroom, he brought you back to bed giving you 3 more orgasms. 2 by his tongue and fingers, 1 by his dick.

you literally tapped out telling him he’s redeemed himself. rightfully so.

his response? “i haven’t even had you against the kitchen counter yet. or in the shower. or in my car. or—,” he listed on and you legit groaned in anticipation at having him in so many positions.

“i thought you didn’t do seconds? let alone, thirds, fourths,”

“it’s different with you.” he stated with a shrug but didn’t offer a why or how.

a little after the third (technically 6th) orgasm, and you falling right to sleep, heeseung called jay.

jay, sunghoon, sunoo and jungwon all were out eating.

“what should i do to help a girl after i made her not able to walk?”

jay started choking on his wine, sunoo patting his back. heeseung chuckled. the phone was passed to sunghoon as sunoo tried to help jay.

“where is she?” sunghoon asked

“asleep on my bed.” heeseung replied, and sunghoon was shocked but didn’t answer to it.

“warm bath, with epson salt. pain reliever. heating pad maybe.” sunghoon listed helpfully.

“where would i get epson salt and a heating pad?”

“jay uses epson salt his knee pain sometimes. i have a heating pad i use for my shoulder sometimes.”

after the call, heeseung did promise the guys it was safe to come home. before he went back to staring at you, your phone rang and he saw it was your roommate and answered.

“jinnie! i thought you were meeting me and soph for lunch?”

“hey lara, this is heeseung. um, eunjin is kind of sleeping right now,” his neck started to redden, “i, we, um,”

“i don’t need the details.” lara stopped him mid sentence. “do i need to come get her?”

“no she’s okay. i will make sure she calls or texts you when she wakes up.”

“thanks! take care of my girl.”

after that, heeseung went on a hunt in his roommates belongings to find the heating pad and epson salt. since he had the master suite, he had a separate shower and bath that would be perfect.

just as he was in the kitchen preparing some water for you, the door opened and jake and ni-ki walked in all sweaty.

“i’m sorry.” was the first thing heeseung said. “i apologized to eunjin, and we made up. she’s no longer mad at me. i will never talk to her or any other girl that way like that ever.”

ni-ki nodded with a smile.

jake pointed, “what’s with the ibuprofen, heating pad, and epson salt?”

heeseung’s neck started to redden with embarrassment again. jake noticed and his eyes went wide.

“you—eunjin,” jake chuckled, “so that’s how you both made up.”

ni-ki was lost. “huh?”

jake patted the youngest back. “why don’t we go back to your dorm and play some games with kai.”

jake led ni-ki out of the house, and heeseung took the stuff up to his room. you were still laid out on your back, and he smiled at how you were positioned like you were the outline of tape of a dead body. you were draped in just his shirt.

while you slept, he ran a hot bath, prepared the ibuprofen by the bed and laid out the heating pad.

he didn’t want to wake you, but he did need to make sure you were okay. just as he did that, the door to the house opened and closed and he heard the voices of sunghoon and jay.

“pretty, wake up.” heeseung shook you, and you slapped him away with a frown.

“give me a few hours before next round.” you mumbled.

heeseung laughed. “pretty, no worries, i prepared something else good for you.”

your eyes fluttered opened and met heeseung’s with a smile, then you frowned and sat up quickly.

“shit! what time is it?” you panicked looking at your phone. running a hand through your hair, you looked stressed, “dammit, i told lara i would meet her for lunch around 2!”

heeseung smiled at your panicked face at how cute you looked, “no worries pretty, i let lara know you were just a bit tired and would call her back.”

you smiled shyly. “thank you.” but then you got worried. you slept. you slept in lee heeseung’s bed. how was he not mad at you right now? or maybe he’s just being nice until he kicks you out?

“pretty,” he captured your attention, “i ran you a hot bath. sunghoon said it should help with your soreness.”

oh now you were embarrassed and your face went red as you put your face in your hands. great now sunghoon, and probably the rest of his friends know how much he wrecked you.

but then your heart fluttered hearing he ran you a bath. “i also got some pain meds and water for you.” he held two pain meds in one hand with a cup of water in the other and handed them to you. “i need to check on the water, i will be back.”

so you took the meds while he went to his en-suite and quickly sent a text to lara

you: i will tell u dets later!

lara: at least u r alive! if u need me to i will come get u <3

you were so thankful for lara. you peeped the heating pad that sat on heeseung’s desk. heeseung came out from the bathroom and helped you get out of bed.

“how’re you doing?”

“still barely able to walk.” you said. you literally felt like ariana grande’s song side to side except you couldn’t even walk side to side! how in the heck were you going to walk to classes next week?

heeseung pick you up with ease walking you to the bathroom. “mind if i help?”

“i don’t think i’ll be able to get in if you don’t.”

heeseung helped you with the shirt you had on, and then lifted you into the awaiting hot water, which felt so good on your body.

“fuck that feels good.” you moaned, unaware of how it affected heeseung as his dick twitched in his pants.

not now, he scolded himself. he had you wrapped around his finger, he has time with you.

“i’ll let you soak. call out if you need anything. i’ll leave the bathroom door cracked, but my bedroom door open.”

“i won’t drown.” you teased. heeseung dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and then headed downstairs to see his friends.

jay was putting away food he and sunghoon brought back from lunch. jake had joined them.

“when did you get back?” heeseung asked jake.

“while ni-ki and i were on his way to his dorm, we ran into the guys, so ni-ki just went on with sunoo and jungwon.”

“i brought back some food for you and eunjin.” jay said holding up some sandwiches and chips.

“she must be starving.” jake said with a smirk. “you know, from the intense workout you two had.”

heeseung smirked back. “and she agreed that i’m the only one she can have that intense workout with.” heeseung was proud how he got you to agree he was the only one allowed to make you feel that way.

he was the only one allowed to make you come. not jake, not jay, not sunghoon, but him.

jake pouted, “aww man!” he complained, his thick accent shining through. heeseung knew jake was joking, but also knew there was a slight chance jake was actually upset.

jay laughed, “how are you going to steal my wife? i thought she and i were ni-ki’s parents!”

as the boys talked on, you made your way quietly and slowly down the steps. the bath helped, but just a bit. you could walk, but not with big strides.

when you reached the living room, the floor creaked and all four boys turned to you. all with knowing smiles.

your body heated up with embarrassment. how much did they know?

heeseung smiled, but it quickly turned into a frown, going unnoticed to you. you had on your jeans and shirt that you came in with. why were you dressed?

“pretty, why are you dressed?” heeseung asked.

“well, i didn’t want to come down naked.” you replied.

“i wouldn’t have minded.” jake smiled and jay smacked the back of his head.

you blushed at jake’s comment. “jake don’t say things like that!”

“you could’ve put on a shirt and boxers of mine.” heeseung replied. “actually no, go put on some clothes of mine.”

“oh.” you twirled your fingers. “i also thought maybe, um, you wanted me to leave, soon?” you pointed to the door. “i can call a cab, or have lara come get me.”

“no.” heeseung said.

“no?” you questioned back.

“i can still see you’re limping and sore. you need more rest.” he said. he was not just going to kick you out.

typically he would with other girls. but that’s because he didn’t care for the other girls like that. he’s never wrecked them so bad that they couldn’t walk straight immediately after.

“oh, ok,” you said and added, “i can sleep—,”

“in my bed. with me.” heeseung finished. “now go change into some clothes of mine.”

you and heeseung stared eye to eye.

“eunjin, are you hungry? we brought back food for you and heeseung.” jay brought up breaking the tension. “go change and then come down and eat!”

you did just so. heeseung turned to glare at jake. “paws off pretty boy.”

jake laughed. “i think that’s up to eunjin herself, don’t you think?” he asked with a smirk.

“like i said, eunjin and i are already in agreement on that” heeseung said back.

jay and sunghoon did not want to be in the middle of this interaction. luckily you came back down sooner than expected in black boxers and a black oversized shirt of heeseung’s.

“perfect.” heeseung smiled and patted his leg. “come sit and eat.”

you winced. “heeseung,”

“i’ll be gentle.” he laughed and you sat carefully down on his lap.

“again, what the fuck did you do to her?” jake asked noticing the slight discomfort on your face.

“just embedded my teeth marks in her ass.”

again, jay choked on a bottle of beer he was drinking. “man i gotta stop drinking something around you when you talk!” he complained wiping his chin.

you were extremely embarrassed but had no energy to turn around and slap heeseung.

jay put some food in front of you and heeseung.

“pretty, remember how i cornered you in the bathroom at the party? and regretfully said that you just hooked up with me to get to the other 3 guys in front of us right now?”

this time it was your turn to choke on the sandwich. “how do you remember that? i thought you were too plastered!”

heeseung had all the boys attention now, “remember how you said if you wanted an in with my brothers that you wouldn’t have fucked me first?”

oh shit. you knew where this was going. “heeseung—,”

“who eunjin?”

“what?”

“which one of the guys here would you have fucked since i wasn’t your first pick?”

you shook your head, you didn’t want to answer but heeseung placed a hand on your thigh giving a squeeze.

“answer please.” heeseung demanded. he leaned into your ear, “or else.”

you wanted to bury yourself in a cave. “uh,”

“which one? it seems you thought of it before.” heeseung was becoming impatient.

“you won’t hurt any of our feelings sweets.” jake said from across from you.

“my feelings are already hurt.” heeseung pouted and turned your head so you looked him in the eye.

you sighed. “jay.”

all boys eyes went wide.

“jay?” heeseung asked quietly.

“boring jay?” sunghoon added.

“why him?” jake also added, basically all boys speaking over one another except jay himself. he was smiling and celebrating.

“finally, a woman chose me first!” jay hand pumped the air.

“calm down lover boy,” heeseung said and turned your chin once more to him, “now pretty, what did you promise me today?” he asked.

oh he had the biggest smirk on his face. “i—i,”

“i’m pretty sure you promised if you wanted—,”

“i promised that you were the only one to fuck me!” you quickly replied, your words jamming together.

you knew you had to say that because heeseung sure enough was going to repeat, every single word said in his bed.

“exactly. now boys, fuck off.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

after eating with the boys, you all gathered to watch a movie in the living room. you made sure to let lara know you more than likely wouldn’t be coming back to the dorms.

jay sat in one of the individual chairs, jake in the other. you actually witnessed jay telling jake to sit in the other chair so he would ‘behave.’

you sat near the end of one side, so you could lay your head comfortably on the arm of the couch. heeseung sat beside you, moving your legs so they were draped over his, and sunghoon sat at the other end of the couch.

everyone had separate blankets except you and heeseung shared one giant one.

sometime during the beginning of the movie, your eyelids felt heavy and you dozed off. heeseung’s fingertips ghosted against the skin of your thighs and legs.

“you sure did suck every bit of energy from her, huh?” jake laughed.

sunghoon and jay turned their heads to look at your sleeping figure, then looked at heeseung with a chuckled each.

“just made sure that my tongue and dick was the only one she ever thought of.” heeseung smiled.

“ok, so you ruined other guys for her, now what? did she ruin other girls for you?” jake stated. “heeseung, you don’t do seconds, so of course all of us are shocked. not only that, you let her stay over, in your bed, and letting her stay longer. i mean not that we don’t mind.”

“we just don’t want her to get hurt. she’s really important to ni-ki and became important to us so quickly.” jay added.

“you don’t do relationships, you’ve said it plenty of times. and eunjin isn’t someone to casually do anything.” sunghoon ended.

heeseung sighed as the guys were right. he did want to ruin other guys for you. mainly ruin any chance of his frat brothers getting their hands on you. he wanted to prove himself to you and himself in bed.

and he did.

so now what?

was he supposed to stop sleeping with other girls just because? he—he didn’t think he wanted that. could he be with you and you only? maybe. but he’s always said he didn’t want to be tied down to one girl in college.

“why did she even have a crush on me?” heeseung asked no one in particular. but he looked at jay, thinking maybe sunoo told him.

heeseung thought correctly as jay sighed.

“from what i was told by sunoo who was told by eunjin herself, it was freshman year.”

“huh? that long?” jake said in shock. heeseung and sunghoon were shocked themselves.

“probably saw how handsome i was and fell in love at first sight.” heeseung laughed but jay shook his head.

“actually no, she told sunoo when she first met you, she thought you reminded her of a hamster, or maybe it was a deer?”

jake and sunghoon started laughing.

“her crush didn’t evolve from your looks, it was how you treated people when no one else was looking. it started with her, she had dropped her books while walking in the rain because her bag had broke. she was having the worst day, you had saw her as she kneeled to the ground and yelled profanities to the sky. you gave her your back pack with no word at all and walked off.” jay spoke.

heeseung could barely remember that interaction. it was like, 2 years ago?

jay continued, “she saw you a week later at the library, and she wanted to approach you to thank you as she recognized you. but she didn’t because some girl had pulled you behind some books for a make out session.”

jay rolled his eyes. “she then learned about your reputation from some friends of hers. she said she started to observe you more often, becoming hyper aware of your presence on campus. she wasn’t noticing your frat boy and fuck boy behavior. it was the little nice things. like smiling at birds, complimenting a girl who had just been told by a group of guys she was unlikable, things like that.”

heeseung took in jay’s words. “apparently she has an old journal of observations she made about different people.”

“she did say she was good at observing people and had her own perceptions of us.” sunghoon said.

“well damn, what did she observe about me?” jake wondered.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next time you awoke was back in heeseung’s bed with his arm draped across your stomach. you saw a clock on his nightstand. 3:43 am.

you’ve slept saturday away. could one man really take that much energy from you.

you stretched your limbs and realized the soreness has went away. now do you leave? pretend to stay sore? sneak out?

you turned to look at heeseung’s sleeping figure. you didn’t want to hurt him, but you also wanted to protect yourself from heartbreak.

you knew his reputation, you got yourself into this knowing the crush would always be one sided. the feelings would be one sided.

you leaned in and kissed his lips, letting it linger. when you pulled away, you found him staring at you with a smile.

“well hello.” he stated and whew his morning voice literally had you wet….already.

“didn’t mean to wake you.” you giggled.

heeseung pulled you closer to his body. “it’s fine if you always wake me up like that.”

your heart fluttered. he cannot say things like that. he just can’t.

“let’s go back to sleep.” he sighed and kissed your forehead.

the next time heeseung awoke 3 hours later, you weren’t beside him. he sat up quickly looking around his room.

the bathroom was empty. maybe you went downstairs?

he rolled over to check the time on his phone when he saw a text message from you.

eunjin: this isn’t goodbye, but see you later. i need to think, heeseung. but thank you.

here you go again with the damn thank you.

you were literally driving this man insane.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[itsnesss]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 | miguel diaz & axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary | you feel conflicted after a beach encounter with axel, despite being with miguel. later, miguel encourages you to kiss axel to understand your feelings, leading to a complicated and intense situation with both men

warnings | smut, explicit content, threesome, oral sex (fem!receives), p in v

word count | 2.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The night had fallen over the bustling bar where your Miyagi-Do dojo was celebrating its advancement in the Sekai Taikai tournament. The music vibrated in the air as everyone enjoyed the victory. Laughter and conversations intertwined, but something was missing in the atmosphere. Something that only you could feel.

You leaned against the bar, surrounded by your teammates, but you felt Miguel's absence like a shadow over you. He had promised that you would celebrate together, but when the test was over, he explained that his mother had been taken to the hospital and he had to return to All Valley. He left hastily, leaving a bittersweet feeling in your chest. You understood, of course. Family came first, but the solitary feeling of being surrounded by people without finding comfort made you feel empty.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked, breaking your trance, her gaze understanding.

"Yeah, just... I think I’m a little tired," you smiled, though it wasn’t the most genuine smile. "I'm going for a walk on the beach."

"Sure, take your time," she replied, offering you a friendly hug before heading back to celebrate.

The cold sand brushed against your bare feet as you walked along the shore. The sound of the waves and the wind tousling your hair were the only things you could hear. You felt small, as if the crowd in the bar was miles away, and all that was left was the echo of your thoughts.

It was then that you saw Axel Kovacevic, a guy who had demonstrated himself to be "invincible" in every tournament trial, walking towards you with a steady stride. You were surprised to see him there, outside of the competitive environment, and a sense of curiosity filtered into your mind.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, surprised by his sudden appearance.

"I thought a walk on the beach would be a good idea too," his voice was calm, but there was something in it that you couldn’t quite identify. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Uh, no... it's fine." Though the situation was a little awkward, Axel’s presence made you feel less alone. You walked beside him in silence for a few moments before he decided to break it.

"How do you feel after the tournament?" he asked, looking at the horizon.

"Good... though I feel like something’s missing," you answered honestly, looking ahead.

Axel didn’t respond immediately. His eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made a shiver run down your spine. There was something in his presence that unsettled you. Something in his gaze that seemed deeper than just a casual conversation.

There was an uncomfortable pause. Axel took a step closer to you, so close that you could feel his breath on your skin. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore growing fainter, as if the whole world was fading away around you.

"I see you... in a different way," he murmured, moving even closer.

Your heart started to race, and without thinking, a strange impulse made you take a step back.

"Axel, no..." you murmured, feeling the air grow heavy.

He looked at you, a flash of surprise crossing his face, but he quickly stepped away. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It’s not that," you said quickly. "It’s just that... I have a boyfriend."

An awkward silence settled between the two of you, but Axel nodded slowly. "I understand. I’m really sorry."

"It’s fine, really," you smiled, though the lingering tension still hung in the air.

After a few more minutes of walking in silence, you decided it was time to head back to the bar. You needed to be surrounded by your teammates, to try to forget for a while the interaction that had just occurred. But as you walked back, you couldn’t stop thinking about Axel’s gaze, the chemistry that had sparked between the two of you, and how, despite it being just a chance encounter, you felt that something had changed.

The next day, the tournament resumed. Miyagi-Do was on its feet, ready to face the next challenge, and you were determined to leave it all behind, especially what had happened on the beach.

Miguel arrived at the event by noon, as if fate had wanted everything to align for him to be there. When he saw you, a smile of relief crossed his face, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel whole again.

"I missed you," he said, taking your hand firmly, as if he never wanted to let go.

"I missed you too," you replied, though deep down, something still lingered in your mind. Something you couldn’t ignore.

Before the next match started, Axel appeared in the distance. You immediately noticed that his eyes were fixed on you and Miguel, and his face transformed into a mixture of jealousy and frustration. The intensity of his gaze made you feel uncomfortable, but before you could process the sensation, Miguel noticed his expression.

"What’s going on?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I’m not sure," you replied, unable to suppress a sigh. "Axel was on the beach last night."

Miguel frowned. "What happened?"

"It’s nothing, it’s just... there was something weird between us. But nothing happened," you tried to reassure him, though you weren’t sure if your words sounded convincing.

That night, as you walked with Miguel to your room, he broke the silence. "I’ve been thinking about what you told me. About Axel."

You stopped, looking at Miguel, confused. "What about Axel?"

"Look," Miguel started, taking your hand firmly, "I don’t want you to think I’m jealous, but I think there’s something between you and him. Something we can’t ignore."

Your heart skipped a beat. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miguel."

"I want you to kiss him," he said, with a sincerity that left you speechless.

"What?" It was all you could say. "Why?"

Miguel sighed, looking ahead. "Because I feel like you need to understand what you really feel. And I know that if you do it, you’ll understand it better."

You didn’t know what to think, but before you could say anything, Miguel led you to Axel’s room. And just like you, he looked very confused.

The air between you and Axel was charged, and as you approached him, all you felt was confusion. Why had you come here? What were they expecting from you?

Axel lifted his gaze, his eyes fixed on yours. "Do you really want to do this?"

"I don’t know," you answered, almost in a whisper.

But the chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. Before you could think twice, Axel moved in and kissed you. The sensation was overwhelming, different from anything you had experienced with Miguel. It was something so new, so unexpected.

When the kiss ended, both of you quickly pulled away.

Your face was burning, and surprise was painted on Axel's lips.

Miguel approached you, and without waiting for you to recover from what had just happened, he kissed you again. The chemistry was different, but just as intense as it had been with Axel. All the confusion, stress, and adrenaline turned into a feeling of desire so strong that you felt dizzy.

"Do you like my girl?" Miguel looked at Axel in a playful manner.

The tension in the air was no longer uncomfortable or embarrassing, but sexy. Axel approached Miguel, they looked at each other, and when they kissed, the heat in the air intensified. Although you hadn't anticipated the reaction, you couldn't help but feel drawn to the intensity of their movements. Them kissing, the way their hands moved over each other's bodies, was something that made you want more.

"Can I?" you whispered.

Both looked up. Axel smiled, the tension in the air seemed to clear, and Miguel looked at you with burning eyes. "You must do it," he replied, his voice hoarse.

You slowly approached them, and without knowing what to do, both of them came closer. Axel began kissing you again, while Miguel took off your blouse. The situation was new to you, but the desire you felt outweighed any reservations. While Axel was kissing you, Miguel began to undress, and each of his actions made you feel hotter.

Before you knew it, you were without a blouse, only covered by your bra. Axel's attention was focused on him, and it was then that Miguel began to kiss your breasts. The contact was electrifying, and when Axel leaned in to kiss your lips, the sensation was unimaginable. Two mouths, two tongues, an intense kiss. The pressure of their bodies made you feel surrounded, covered, but at the same time, it was such a sexy sensation that you didn't want them to stop.

"Let's give my girl what she needs" Miguel ordered sexily, pulling away from you with a lewd sound.

Axel looked at you with bright eyes, as if he were a lion about to devour its prey.

The clothes gradually disappeared. They approached, naked, their erect penises, and you were the center of their attention. It was such an intense, overwhelming sensation that you didn't know what to do. But before you had time to react, Axel kissed you again as he pulled you towards the bed.

You lay down, covering your breasts with your arms, but Miguel quickly pushed them aside. "Don't do that, you're too sexy." The way they looked at you made it seem like they were going to devour you alive. You hurriedly took off your skirt, revealing your black silk panties. A hoarse sound escaped Axel's mouth as he put a condom on his penis.

"Ask her," Miguel said abruptly, looking at your vagina, "if she loves both of us."

"That's not necessary, I think we already know the answer" Axel replied confidently, before kissing you slowly and passionately.

While he was kissing you, Miguel moved closer to your thighs, and with a finger, he pushed aside your panties, revealing your vagina. "Fuck," he murmured. Your vagina was as wet as his mind had expected. He got to work with his tongue, and it didn't take long for him to make you moan with pleasure.

"Yes! Miguel" you moaned, arching under his tongue.

Axel looked at you, his eyes darkened by desire. "You look so sexy" he whispered.

Miguel continued working with his mouth, and just when you thought you were going to cum, he stopped. "Now it's my turn". He took off your panties and lay down on top of you.

Axel knelt behind him, eagerly waiting for his turn. The pressure of Miguel inside you was intense, but when he started to move, you couldn't help but scream in pleasure.

Miguel started fucking you quickly but intensely, as if he needed to fuck you right at that moment. You screamed and moaned with each thrust he gave you, but before you reached climax, he pulled out of you, and Axel took his place.

"I'm so hard" he gasped, thrusting his penis into you forcefully. "You have such a sexy body"

There was no time for you to recover from the surprise. Axel's thrust was quick and hard, and soon you found yourself screaming in pleasure as the two of them took turns fucking you. One after the other. One kissing you while the other fucks your vagina.

Miguel was the last one to fuck you. He was so hard, and the way he fucked you was so intense that it only took you a few seconds to come. It was such an overwhelming sensation that you screamed loudly, the feeling spread throughout your entire body. Axel lay down on his side, panting, while Miguel pulled out of you with the final thrust.

They collapsed onto the bed, all three exhausted, sweaty, but satisfied. There was a moment of silence among the three, a silence that was only interrupted by the sound of their breathing.

"Do you want more?" Axel asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on you.

"Yes" you replied without thinking.

[bloatedandalone04]

One Missed Call

➪the one where bradley hasn’t won a match since you left him, and he finally decides to break his promise to himself.

Warnings: boxer bradley, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, descriptions of injuries, mentions of fighting, swearing, bradley is kind of a dick in this ngl, angst all the way, could have another part if i get inspired (just watched bleed for this and i need an outlet), probably the quickest piece i have ever written, so sorry if it sucks

Word Count: 2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Six time champ, Bradley Bradshaw, faces his fifth loss since getting back into the ring,”

That single sentence played on repeat in Bradley’s head as he sat on the couch of his living room. 

His best friend rushed around him as she tried her best to patch up the mess his opponent made of his face an hour or so ago. Her hands held multiple blood stained towels and her face was twisted up in concern, but he didn’t pay her any attention as he watched himself get the shit beaten out of him on the TV screen. 

“You shouldn’t be watching that right now,” she muttered as she wiped away a fresh stream of blood rather roughly. He winced, his mind instantly comparing her harshness to the way you used to clean him up much more gently. And now he was thinking about you again, and how fucking disappointed he made you. “You might have a concussion, and the screen will fuck with your eyes.”

He grunted as she stuck a white bandaid on his left temple. “Enough, Nat,” he grunted, gently pushing her hands away from his face. “I’m fine.”

She glared at him as she stood to her full height. “You’re fine? Bradley, you haven’t been fine since Y/n left. You haven’t won a match in months. And you think you’re fine?” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, a scoff leaving his mouth afterwards. “Whatever, mom,”

Nat laughed humorlessly as she tossed the towels onto the coffee table in front of him. “Okay,” she muttered, grabbing her bag and bending down to press a harsh kiss to the bruise that formed on his cheek. “Let me know when you locate the guy who isn’t a grumpy prick. That’s the version of you we all miss. I’ll text you tomorrow, if I feel like it.” They both knew she would, whether she felt like it or not. 

And then she left and Bradley was refraining from throwing the remote directly at the TV screen. His face ached beyond belief, and he knew the trash talking he did in between punches did not help his case as that guy really did a number on him. 

In a way, he felt like he deserved to feel more pain than he did right now. He knew this was nothing compared to the amount of pain he put you through, and he wanted himself to hurt just as bad.

He watched himself take the final punch of the night that had him down on the mat within seconds, and how Hansen Carpenter lifted his hand in victory and grinned as if he won the lottery. 

Congrats, man. You beat Bradley Bradshaw. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last, so take a fucking chill pill. 

Bradley scoffed again and turned the TV off, tossing the remote aside and leaning back against the couch. As he sat in the quiet house, his mind betrayed him as he began to think about you again. 

How he had managed to fuck up the best thing in his life, he’d never know. 

You really were the only thing he had going for him other than his career and title, and he let you go without a fight. It was his fucking job to fight, yet he couldn’t even do it for you. 

The house felt empty, even though you had only been living with him - officially - for about three months before he broke up with you. Despite being with you for nearly five years, you hadn’t decided to move in together until around half a year ago. 

You practically lived with him, anyway, but it was official for only a few months before he let himself get too caught up in his own head, which later resulted in him taking it out on you. 

Really, he was a coward. He never jumped at the countless opportunities he had with you, and instead put all his focus on boxing. 

Oh, there was a high chance he could win within the first five rounds? Sign him up.

Someone was betting half a million dollars on him? Tell him a time and place. 

You wanted to take the next step and put a downpayment on a house together? Maybe sometime within the next few years or so.

He really didn’t deserve you, and it was a wonder how you put up with him for half a decade. 

Bradley looked down at his phone that was on the couch beside him, and without thinking much of it, he grabbed it and held it between his sore fingers. He didn’t need to scroll far to find your number since he hadn’t changed you from his top contact yet, and he probably never would. 

When you walked out and left him in this exact room all those months ago, Bradley promised himself that he wouldn’t call you or try to win you back. If you couldn’t understand him and his career choice, then you clearly weren’t the right girl for him.

But he knew you were. You are the right girl for him, but he was too hung up on his own ego to actually try to get you back. And now he feared he was too late.

He was already feeling embarrassed, so why not go all the way? 

He clicked on the call button and brought his phone up to his ear, waiting what felt like a lifetime before he was forwarded to your inbox. 

Of course he got your voicemail. He wasn’t expecting you to actually answer him, so he wasn’t super disappointed that he was met with your sweet voice asking him to leave you a message. 

And, God, was your voice sweet. It was probably the sweetest sound he had ever heard in his entire life, and it matched well with your overall personality. You were far too kind for your own good, and had been way too understanding with him throughout your relationship. 

Though he really wanted to, he couldn’t blame you for leaving, especially since he practically forced you out the door. 

Bradley looked ahead at his beaten and bruised face through the screen of the TV, and he felt as pathetic and worn out as he looked. “Y/n,” he mumbled after he heard the obnoxious beep that indicated he should probably start talking before the call hung up itself. What did he have to lose? “I miss you, babygirl.”

He had no right to be calling you right now, nor did he have the right to be saying that he misses you when he’s the reason you’re gone. 

But he was selfish. He always had been when it came to you.

He wanted you to support him and didn’t care much for your concerns about his well being. He wanted you there and in his corner at every single match and wasn’t fazed by the way you cowered away every time he took a punch. He wanted you all to himself, but never gave you the time of day when he really needed to get his act together and progress his relationship with you. 

Bradley was selfish before you, while he was with you, and now after you. 

You were right. He will never change. 

“I fucked up tonight, again,” he muttered as he looked down at the blood stained towels in front of him. His mouth tasted like metal and he could smell the rustic scent of copper every time he inhaled, and he truly could not believe how much of a mess he is. “I really thought I could win this one, but you know how I talk out of my ass whenever I’m in that ring, and I did it tonight.”

He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to get out of this, but the thought of you maybe listening to it was what had him continuing this embarrassing show of emotions. 

“I told this Hansen guy that he fights like my old man, and how he’s dead, and then I got my ass handed to me,” he grunted, rubbing his sore nose and wincing at the sharp pain he felt because of it. “It was going fine before that. I went eight rounds straight with the guy before he fucking floored me, and all it took was me thinking about you.”

He felt like a complete loser for admitting this, but it also felt easier to be open with himself when it came to you. It had always been like that, and he was fucking stupid for thinking he could find someone better than you. 

Truly, there was no one else he wanted other than you, and he’s known that pretty much since the day he met you, so why couldn’t he swallow his pride and fight for you instead of with you was another thing he’d never know.

“One single thought about you and I got too into my own head to realize what was going on around me,” he shamelessly informed you of the hold you still had, and probably will always have, over him. “I think about you all the time, baby. All the fucking time. You should’ve been there tonight. You should’ve been there last time. You should be here right now. But I know why you’re not.”

His face burned from both the impacts of Hansen’s gloves and from the way he was getting caught up in the thought of you. 

Everything reminded him of you. Even this exact couch held far too many memories with you to count. The amount of nights he spent with you on these very cushions had him shifting uncomfortably as he tried to push away those thoughts.

He didn’t even deserve to be talking to you right now, let alone thinking about all the ways he’s gotten you off on this old and worn out piece of furniture. “I know it’s my own fucking fault, I know that, but it still fucking hurts,” he laughed and pressed his arm against his abs that were just as sore as his face. “The amount of fights I’ve been in, the amount of hits I’ve taken, none of them compare to how much it hurt to lose you. How much it still hurts.”

While he wasn’t one to cry at all, Bradley felt his eyes beginning to burn as he replayed the exact moment you left him, as well as the exact words he said to you. 

“I know what I told you, okay? I know what I said. I was wrong, babygirl,” he rasped, curling in on himself as he tried to find the right words to say. “I didn’t mean it. I should have never told you to leave. I should have never yelled at you. I feel so bad, baby, all the time.”

He moved to lay on his side, his cheek pressing against the armrest a bit uncomfortably, but he didn’t care. This was the first time he allowed himself to really get it all out since breaking up with you, and he hated how he couldn’t find the courage to actually say all of this to you in person. Not that you’d let him, anyway. 

“I want you back, Y/n,” he finally admitted to what he’s been too full of himself to say out loud. “I want you so bad. You were my girl, baby. You were so good to me, and I fucked it up. I miss you so much, and I promise you I’ll do better. I’ll be better for you, I swear, just please…come back to me.”

He ended the call after that and tossed his phone onto the table next to the towels he would definitely have to throw out since no amount of cold water and bleach could save them. 

Bradley felt beyond pathetic now, but it was nothing compared to the feeling that took over his body when he woke up the next morning, still on the couch, and with a single notification on his phone. 

One Missed Call from My Girl. 

[osachiyo]

I’m a tall girl ( 6’0+ ) and I rarely see any content for us and only if you’re up to it and taking requests could we get bsd men with a tall reader ^-^ feel free to disregard this if you don’t want to !

From 🍰 anon ( if I can be ^^ ) :3

⊹ note. . . as a short girlie this was a lil difficult to write, but I managed ! so sorry abt answering this so late and ofc you can be 🍰 anon, my dear <3

dazai doesn't care about your appearance, he'd love you no matter what you look like. if you're taller than him, he'd still enjoy every single bit of it, of of course. he loves how he doesn't have to strain his shoulders and slouch or bend down to kiss you. will also convince you to tease chuuya together, which eventually becomes one of y'all's favourite couple activity <3

during bed, he definitely won't deny a tall dominant lady, if you're into that. but if you prefer being submissive, he won't mind that either. mans just wants to get his dick wet and touch you, as simple as that..♡

chuuya also doesn't care about your appearance− just don't mention or make jokes about the comical height difference between you both. he'll either sulk about it, or huff and smack you playfully, grumbling something about 'height doesn't matter'. and if you picked him up and threw him over your shoulder− he'd screech and probably thrash around to get out immediately. don't worry though, he'd let you give him piggy-back rides eventually, after a lot of begging. oh and if you like to wear heels? he's not gonna tell you what you can and can't wear but it's gonna be pretty funny when he looks half your size.

in bed, unlike dazai, he'll fight you for dominance. definitely won't let you have the upper hand without some struggle− unless you somehow manage to convince him. will be secretly very into it later, he'd rather die than admit it though. but if you're submissive, he'd love that as well. would take the best care of you..♡

fyodor wouldn't care much about your height, he wants someone who listens to him and is devoted. if you tease him for being shorter than you, his lips would turn into a straight line and he'd sigh, "so? why would that matter to me?" if you wear heels, no you don't. he claims you're already taller than him, there's no need for you to become even more tall. guess he's not as unaffected he said he was, huh?

during sex, as much as it pains me to say this, fyodor will not let you have control no matter what. he desires control control and power, and he will not give that up. do not try to overpower and pin him down, I promise you the punishment is not worth it. of course, he'll let you ride him time to time− you may be on top, but he has the control and he sets the pace; don't get it twisted..♡

nikolai is a pretty big guy himself, so he's not gonna mind if you're really tall. he's gonna love it actually, you're the perfect size for him. you two would be the power couple of yokohama, just imagine terrorizing sigma together with him (ㅅꈍᴗꈍ)ᰔ

he's gonna be pretty flexible in the bedroom, of course. he's almost into anything and everything. not afraid of letting you take the lead ! will take his revenge and pin you down later though, so better keep an eye out for that..♡

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

[kurishiri]

03 ┊ A match of life and death, the art of self-protection

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— jude⌛'s past records, record #3. i'm so, so sorry for taking so long on this ,, orz

— cw: brief mention of human trafficking in the end.

Jude: I’ll give ya more in return. So give that medicine to me.

Going so low as to threaten him with a shattered bottle, it resembled what had been done to us by our father and brother.

God knows how long we glared at each other.

But the one who opened his mouth first was the doctor.

Oswald: ...Listen up, lad. An investment is lending out funds with the expectation of future gains.

O: Only an ignorant and selfish child would think he could receive funds just like that.

(...!)

(Hate to admit it, but this damn doctor’s got a point.)

I could shout and yell out all until I gave out, but in the end I was only saying bratty, spoiled nonsense.

Unable to say anything back, the doctor handed me a thick medical book.

Jude: What’s this for?

Oswald: By the time I come around next time, have this entire book memorized.

O: If you can demonstrate your abilities, I promise I will administer the medicine.

The book he gave me was so thick, it could probably kill a person if they got hit with it.

And the doctor came around here once a week.

——All that to say.

(He’s thinks I don’t got it in me from the start so he’s givin’ me this tall order.)

Jude: Ha, bloody hell... all of ya lookin’ down on me, aren’t’cha.

(But it’s this or nothin’ for us.)

(I’ll weave from a single straw if I hafta.)

To get more out of this than if I were to steal and sell it for a likely-high price,

I was grateful to my mother, who had taught me how to read.

Jude: Couldn’t ask for nothin’ more. I’m in.

——is what I said, but memorizing everything was far from an easy feat.

Jude: Ether has been used as a narcotic in treatments...

J: Tch, there’s way too many fancy words in ‘ere.

I felt like my heart was going to get crushed countless times.

But, if that happened, that would really be the end for us.

I absorbed myself to the point I neglected sleeping and eating——

And then, one week later, I memorized everything.

The damn doctor would point to a page, and when I recited its contents, he let out a satisfied laugh.

Oswald: Haha, to think you really went and memorized everything. That was quite a feat even for myself.

Jude: The hell? Weren’t ya the one who told me to memorize this entire thing?

Oswald: Indeed. It’s my defeat.

O: As promised, I will treat you guys.

Jude: As ya should, ya git.

Jude’s little sister: ...Hey, mister doctor.

Oswald: Hm? What is it, kiddo?

Jude’s little sister: Will... will ya really fulfill your promise?

Jude’s little sister: ‘Cause even if my brother makes a promise, all the adults go ‘round breakin’ ‘em.

Jude: ......... (O_O)

Oswald: I could say anything with this mouth, so I was intending to show it with my actions...

O: But I will not break the promise. ——And that is absolute.

And so, the damn doctor, as promised, periodically administered the medicine to us.

My sister and I then slowly recovered.

While under the treatment, the damn doctor didn’t utter a word. Nor did he show us any pity.

He simply treated us as another human being, on equal footing——and while I hated to admit it, that made me happy.

So that may have been why my mouth ended up slipping.

Jude: They would’ve wanted us dead. Which was why I did everythin’ I could not to.

Dammit, I had thought then——but the damn doctor responded with a dispassionate voice, all the while continuing the treatment.

Oswald: If you died because others had wished for you to die, that would be the most uninteresting thing.

O: So, if that’s the case, why not live a stubborn life? That is the ultimate revenge.

In an act of amusement, he would tell me about lots of things.

And I would come to absorb more and more of that knowledge.

But, such a peaceful time would end and fade away in an instant.

Jude: The hell? ...Ya sold her?

to be continued…

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masterlist🌙 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[mamirhodessxox]

Request for Cody 💜

Cody is on the road a lot and a workaholic, to the point he neglects his wife in a way. He misses date nights, family dinners and a birthday party to the point reader files for divorce. Cody then tries to get his family back. ( 3 year old son Silas , 9 month old daughter Brielle )

Before You Leave Me

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader

Desc: Cody has seemed to be more focused in his work life than his own personal home life which leaves Y/N in a conflicted decision that he refuses to accept.

Contents: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of divorce, light false accusations of cheating , use of foul language, arguing, Happy endings :)

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts-deactivated2 @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Being married to Cody was not easy, especially if you were head over heels for the man, You thought that if he settled down, had children, etc, he would be less of a workaholic but boy were you wrong. He was on the road 24/7 You & the kids barely got to see him, You both were parents of 2, a 3 year old son named Silas & your new 9 month old daughter Brielle, He missed out on a lot within MONTHS.

Cody was a man who brought food on the table, he was man of the house but because of his absence it was leaving your song with many questions such as “Why didn’t daddy come to my birthday party?” Or “Why wasn’t daddy here for Christmas?” These were questions you had no idea how to answer to the poor kid other than “Daddy was busy” which was a bullshit answer, He should never be too busy to miss out on his sons 2nd birthday but once the 3rd birthday hit you were sick of it and his false promises. This made you order divorce papers before the birthday as a just incase moment if he didn’t show up to his sons party within a few weeks.

2 weeks prior to Silas’ 3rd birthday you two had argued over work and by the end of that shit show he promised with his entire soul he would be there for his sons 3rd birthday, but ultimately he couldn’t make it because of his schedule. This was becoming a regular habit almost every year, Cody missed out on your guys’ dates, holidays, birthday’s & anniversary..but this was the final straw.

It was the day of your son’s birthday and you waited in the backyard watching your toddler run around with his friends while other parents attempted asking you on where your husband was. You held Brielle in your arms checking your phone every few hours but got no updates from Cody.

And then night time struck. You set Brielle in her crib and pranced into your son’s room to tuck him in bed “Mommy?” You heard the 3 year old chirp out as he sat criss crossed in his bed with a moping expression “Yes sweetheart?” Silas frowned when you got to his level “Where’s daddy? He promised.” Your heart broke in half as your son asked where his father’s presence was, you shrugged and frowned before kissing the top of his head “Daddy got caught up in work sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he huffed and turned to his side once you finished tucking him in you had snuck into the bedroom that used to be shared with you & cody, you kneeled down to the height of your bedside table taking out the papers you had waiting for this very moment & began signing away what you possibly could on your side of the divorce & proceeded to walk downstairs with them and set them down on the kitchen counter next to the pen you had used consenting to the divorce.

around 2:30 in the morning you heard the door open & close in a quiet manner followed by a heavy sigh & luggage being set onto the ground which made you sit up from the couch, Cody looked over towards your direction and smiled lightly before taking notice at the irritated look on your face “You missed his party.” He heard you speak up and stop in his tracks before you stood up “Sweetheart there was problems with the bu-“ “You said that for our anniversary, his 2nd birthday, Christmas, Halloween, the excuse is getting outdated Cody.” He frowned and your words knowing you were right, “Well I’m here no-“ you shook your head while walking past your husband and booking it to the kitchen “I’m tired of this Cody. I love you & you know I do hut it kills me when our son is walking around with a hurt heart whenever he sees another child with a present father, he asks me almost 12 times a day where his daddy is or why didn’t you come to his birthday party. Hell he even requested to have a cake dedicated to yo-“ “Y/N I work like hell to put food on the table and keep a roof under your head!” You widened your eyes and glared “Quite honestly Cody I’d rather fucking starve to death if it meant my son & daughter’s father was present in their life! I’m sick of having all of the neighborhood moms gossiping about our marriage & I’m sick of you not being here for your kids & wife!.”

Cody frowned and tried approaching you but looked down at the counters for a split second and saw papers “What the hell is this?” You shrugged before rummaging through the fridge before pulling out a bottle of wine & pouring the red liquid into a glass “Divorce papers Cody. This marriage clearly isn’t working and I’d rather put it to an end now before it gets worse. You’re 4 steps away from having an affair with another woman with how far away you’ve been from your family so I’d rather prevent you betraying our marriage. I’m mainly doing it for the kid-“ “Y/N I would never cheat on you what the hell are you talking about?!”

You frowned setting down the glass & leaned against the counter behind you with crossed arms “You were nearly late when I gave birth to Brielle, You didn’t show up last Christmas or the Christmas before, You didn’t show up to your sons 3rd and 2nd birthday all for a fucking job that involves you getting punched everyday for a check. You forgot about our anniversary, I didn’t want to do this Cody but this marriage isn’t working, If I stayed any longer nothing would change, I have tried like hell to get you to be here for our family but your too focused on a paycheck then us.” You didn’t notice a tear roll down your face until it dropped onto your arm. Cody frowned & approached your carefully and shook his head “I’m not accepting those damn papers sweetheart, You know I won’t, I’m not leaving you or this fam-“ “You already have, You missed out on Brielle crawling for the first time, You missed out on your son joining the little leagues soccer team and getting a score, You even missed out on be finding out I was pregnant with Brielle Cody. How am I supposed to believe you when you haven’t been here to prove me anything?”

He shook his head and stepped closer towards you and tangled his fingers within your hair and wiped off your face with his free hand “Let me make it right sweetness, let me prove you wrong, I’ll do anything in my power to prevent this from happening, I’ll take time off, I’ll quit anything you want just say the word but goddamnit your not leaving me.” He crouched onto his knees in front of you and kissed your legs gently and gripped at the summer dress he gifted you that was hugging your body in the right ways, You’d never seen Cody beg on his knees before, especially for you to stay with him “Cody I want nothing from you, I don’t want child support from thi-“ “Y/N your not fucking divorcing me, I won’t allow it to happen & if you think for a millisecond in that beautiful goddamn brain of yours that I will then you are extremely mistaken.”

Your fingers ran through his hair as he stared up at you before kissing your stomach down your thigh to your leg before holding your hand and kissing the ring he placed on your dainty finger when you both were wedded. “Cody I can’t keep doing this anymore, You keep making false promises that I know I can no longer believe.” He frowned and gripped at your hips slightly while he shook his head non stop “Y/N I will never ever miss out on another holiday, anniversary, or birthday, it breaks me knowing you expect me to betray our marriage I will do anything in my power to prevent you from leaving me even if it means I quit my job baby.”

You frowned and thought about his words before hesitantly nodding your head which made his stand on his feet and holding your face in the palms of his hands “I promise I will never miss another important day ever again angel.” He mumbled before pulling her into a gentle kiss “I love you..” You muttered against his mouth before pulling away “I-I’m really sorry for pulling the whole divorce thing..” he shook his head and pulled you into a large hug “Don’t apologize sweetheart, I understand your frustrations & more than that but you also know by now that You’re not leaving me that easily” you smiled sadly against his shoulder and pull away while he gently grabbed ahold of your hand and placed a kiss on your wedding ring “Why don’t you go and get some rest alright? I’ll take control of everything tomorrow & I’ll empty out my schedule, go get some sleep alright?”

You held onto his hand and nodded hesitantly before pull away making your way upstairs to the bedroom you two would share, Cody stood in the kitchen & sighed running his hand down his jaw & glared over at the divorce papers before snatching them off of the counter & ripping them to shreds before dumping the pieces of paper in the trash before he went upstairs moments later.

The next morning you woke up to his side of the bed quite cold and empty which made you frown “Cody?” You tried calling out but you soon heard the giggles of Silas souring throughout downstairs which immediately pulled you into relief before climbing out of bed & making your way downstairs & seeing Cody serving a birthday breakfast to Silas which brought a warm smile on your face before approaching him “Morning sweetheart.” He hummed out before pushing a mug filled with coffee towards you which you took into your hands “Morning love” you walked past Silas who was eating the pancakes Cody made him & pressed a kiss into his head before doing the same with Brielle who was in a high chair.

You sat on the couch and looked over towards the kitchen once more & smiled to yourself as Cody kept to his word on being more present for you & the kids, You were immediately happy with the fact he fought for you to not go through with the divorce & ultimately proved his promises too you.

mamirhodessxox’s Masterlist

[neptunesbbby]

Lo’ak as your best friend

Tags (CW): Lo’ak Sully x Fem!Reader, SFW, aged-up (16+), headcannons, best friends, best friends to lovers, wholesome, sweet, fluff, Lo’ak as your best friend, reader can be na’vi or human.

Synopsis: How I think Lo’ak would be as your best friend.

Word count: 624

A/N: Something quick and cute for my first post. I wrote this just now off the top of my head so forgive me if it seems a little rushed or if there are any grammar errors!

Best friend!Lo’ak who swears you’re just one of the boys but gets caught checking you out, more than once.

Best friend!Lo’ak who has your schedule memorized, so that he knows when he could bug you with no consequences.

Best friend!Lo’ak who damn near loses his breath every time your scent hits his nose, sometimes letting his primal urges takeover his senses in the best way possible.

Best friend!Lo’ak who’s tail stands up at attention every time your skin so much as brushes against his.

Best friend!Lo’ak who tunes everyone out when he’s busy thinking about you and the way your ears do that thing when you’re really focused on something. He’s absolutely obsessed and can’t hear a thing, including the orders his father has given him before the war party dispatched.

“Lo’ak… Lo’ak!”

“Hmm?”

“Did you even hear a single word I said, son?”

“Uh, yes sir…”

(No, he didn’t.)

Best friend!Lo’ak who would softly pinch your tail when you least expect it, just to get a reaction out of you. (He gets it from his father. <3)

Best friend!Lo’ak who loves to play fight and bicker with you every chance he gets because he finds it funny. (It’s also his preferred way of flirting.)

Best friend!Lo’ak who hates the idea of hurting you in any way, shape, or form. So, when he is a little too rough while the two of you are play fighting, he breaks down immediately.

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine, I’m okay Lo’ak...”

“Are you sure you’re okay, you—“

“Yes Lo’ak, I’m fine I promise…”

“...Are you sure..?”

Best friend!Lo’ak who’s always trying his best to impress you.

Best friend!Lo’ak who would practically run to ask you how his hair looked immediately after his mom had finished braiding it. (Your opinion is the only one that matters to him.)

Best friend!Lo’ak who frowns everytime you praise a guy that’s not him, immediately telling you that he could do better.

“Did you see how quickly Tansek took down that yerik? I’ve never seen one so large!

“Mtch. I could kill one bigger…”

Best friend!Lo’ak who is lowkey whipped for you, willing to do almost anything you ask but if you ask him about it, he’ll deny it to the ends of the earth.

Best friend!Lo’ak who struggles to hide just how infatuated he is with you from his own family.

Best friend!Lo’ak who doesn’t realize just how deeply in love he is with you until Neteyam and Tuk find him making you a woven necklace (to match his) for your birthday, and they decide to tease him about it.

“Ahh, look at my little brother, finally deciding to start courting the woman that he loves…”

“Loves..? Courting?”

“Oooh, is that necklace for Y/N? Lo’ak loves Y/N~ Lo’ak loves Y/N~ Lo’ak loves—”

“I hate you two.”

Best friend!Lo’ak who is sent into a spiral as soon as he realizes that he’s fallen in love with his best friend.

Best friend!Lo’ak who avoids you for days afterwards, scared that anything he might say or do will give him away and ruin you guys’ friendship.

Best friend!Lo’ak who is surprised that when he does finally man up and tell you, you tell him that you knew the whole time.

“What?! What do you mean you knew?”

“You thought you weren’t obvious about it?”

Best friend!Lo’ak who is happy to finally be able to show you his true feelings for you. Even if it means he has to deal with you teasing him for waiting so long to tell you. <3

Best friend!Lo’ak who definitely still calls you bro on accident even months after he has officially started courting you. T.T

©️neptunesbbby 2024 || please do not steal, republish, repost (reblogs are fine), modify, translate or claim any of my works as your own on here or any other platforms, thank you!

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Kinktober Day 7: Phone sex with Felix

Trigger warnings: n/a

Content warnings: names (baby, baby girl, princess, sweetheart, dirty girl, pretty girl), guided/mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mc chokes herself for lix, they exchange nudes?, really just pushing gamer!lix honestly like this whole thing is entirely self-indulgent.

Summary: After meeting a sweet guy while gaming, you both finally work up the courage to let the conversation shift to a more intimate topic

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

mikasaswife: happy seven months of having me in your life 💁🏻‍♀️

✨lixie✨ is online

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: you said that last month, dork 😆

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: i’ve been keeping track of it too 🙊 wanna play for a bit? i’m off today so i’ve got all the time in the world 😝

mikasaswife: ofc! lemme grab something rq and i’ll hop on 🥰

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: hah cute

You didn’t see his message until you returned and your cheeks went a soft pink. You’d met seven months ago over Rocket League and grew close pretty quickly. You followed each other on various social media platforms and you learned he lived in Australia, which was disheartening considering you were on the other side of the world.

Within about three weeks, he started subtly flirting with you, telling you how good you looked in your latest Instagram post and acting surprised that you were single when you got on the topic of sexuality and your dating history. It was always little remarks and you always welcomed it, oftentimes giving him the same energy, but you weren’t sure how to address your feelings with him.

mikasaswife: not as cute as you but ok

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: lies but ok 🥴

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: i’m calling now 😌

You accepted the call as soon as it came in, already on the home screen and waiting for him to join. “Hey cutie.” As soon as you heard his deep voice, you smiled softly. “How was your day?”

“It was good except for that coworker I told you about a few weeks ago. How’d you sleep?” You hoped he’d just answer the question instead of trying to discuss what happened but you weren’t that lucky.

“I slept fine. You should really report him, y/n.” His voice was laced with concern and you sighed softly.

“I can’t. You know I work in a male-dominated field, that’ll just paint a target on my back.” You shook your head. “Plus it was online, they probably can’t even do anything about it. It’s fine, Lix.”

“It’s far from fine if you’re still having issues with him three weeks later.” He pointed out bluntly. “But I understand you don’t wanna talk about it so I’ll leave it alone.”

“Thank you.” A comfortable silence settled between you as you prepared for your first match until he finally spoke.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I made you upset.” Okay, maybe the silence was only comfortable for you.

“I’m not upset, I promise.” You smiled as you spoke, hoping it carried over in your voice. “I can’t be mad at you even if I wanted to be.”

“Is that so?” He sounded like he believed you. You could imagine the smile he was wearing right now and your heart fluttered.

“Mhm. I’ve tried.” You hummed as the game started. He got the jump on the ball and the battle began. It didn’t take long for your opponents to snag the ball and Felix went after them.

“You’ve tried to be mad at me?”

“Well it’s not fair how perfect you are.” You shrugged, assisting him as he made a play that sent the ball well over halfway down the field. You watched as he scored the first goal and grinned.

“I’m not perfect.” He chuckled softly, quietly cheering over his victory a moment later. The sound sent a delicious chill down your spine as your mind raced with inappropriate thoughts. “Now go steal the ball, princess.”

You wanted to protest but the name surprised you and you simply complied, racing towards the center of the field. Your opponents got the jump but after a few seconds of chasing, Felix came to your rescue and you ran the ball to the goal, scoring a second time. The game was halfway over by then. “Atta girl!”

You bit your lip at the praise, trying to suppress a smile. It was ridiculous how he was getting under your skin. By the end of the game, you were a mess. You had a massive crush and it was times like these that made it painfully obvious to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that you were really into Felix.

You were back on the home page when you decided to bug him a little. “So…’princess’ huh?”

“You seem like the princess type.” He hummed in response, not backing down like you’d anticipated. “I noticed you didn’t argue back when I said it, did you like it that much?” He teased, his tone dripping with playfulness. Now was your chance.

“Maybe I did.” You tried your hardest to sound nonchalant but you weren’t sure it was very effective.

“Just maybe? I guess I’ll have to try harder then.”

“I guess so.” You slumped in your seat as you listened to his breathing on the other end of the call.

“Can I be honest with you?” You felt anxiety settle in your belly at the thought of him telling you he was only messing around but assured him he could confide in you, not expecting what he said next. “I haven’t explicitly said it, I’ve only made cheeky comments here and there but…I really like you and I’ve been trying to keep this PG for months but I want you and I feel like I’m gonna fall to pieces if I don’t make a move.”

Your stomach and heart flipped simultaneously at his confession as your breath hitched. The silence was long and awkward but finally you found your voice. “You’re not teasing me are you?”

“One hundred percent God's honest truth. I can’t seem to get you out of my mind and right now I’m thinking of some less-than-innocent things.” You weren’t sure how it was possible for his voice to sound any deeper, but it did and it went straight to your pussy.

“Lixie…” You heard his breath hitch at the name and your imagination began to run wild. He’d look so pretty with his head thrown back, right on the edge from just your hands... “I don’t think it’s any secret that I feel the same way, that I’m thinking about the same things, but…how are we supposed to navigate this?”

“I’ll come visit you or get you here somehow. I’ll figure it out, sweetheart, because I feel like I’ll go insane if I don't have you in my arms. But why don’t we just enjoy each other for now?” His voice was warm and inviting and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. You didn’t want to.

“Yeah okay…” You bit your lip and shifted in your seat, stifling a sigh when the seam of your jeans pulled taught across your already-aching cunt. “Can we? I want you too…”

“I’d be an idiot to turn you down.” You could hear his smile in his voice before his tone changed to one of more concern. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point, please tell me, okay?”

“I will, Lix.” You assured him and heard him shift in his seat.

“I like when you use nicknames instead of my full name.” He sighed. “Is it okay if I do the same?” You hummed an affirmation and he continued. “Tell me what you’re wearing, baby.”

“I’m in jeans and that purple crop top you like so much.”

“Can you send me a picture?” He would’ve asked you to turn your camera on for a video chat but he wanted to be able to look back at this for a while. You didn’t hesitate to grab your phone and take a picture on Snapchat, posing so your face wasn’t in the frame and your fingers loosely curled around the spaghetti strap of your crop top. You giggled softly as he cursed softly and saved the photo in the chat before speaking again. “So pretty…anything underneath?”

“Just a lacy black thong, no bra.” You offered up quietly and listened as he took a sharp inhale, placing your phone back on the desk.

“You’ll have to show me sometime, baby. That sounds hot as fuck.” He groaned softly and you shuddered, shifting in your seat again so your jeans hit just the right spot. “Why don’t you pull your top up and give your tits a little squeeze for me, hmm?”

You did as he asked, sliding your hands up your torso and under your shirt. You lifted it, bunching it below your chin, and let out a hum of contentment as you cupped your breasts and gently squeezed them. You then wet your middle fingers and teased your nipples, gasping at the sensation. “How’s it feel, princess?”

“Feels good, Lixie.” You sighed, letting your head rest against the back of the chair. “Wish it was you though. It’d be so much better if it was your mouth on my skin instead of my hands…”

“It would…” He agreed. “I’ll make it happen one way or another, baby girl, don’t worry.” You whined softly at the name and he chuckled. “You like that name?” You nodded but remembered he couldn’t see you so you offered a pathetic ‘mhm’ and he laughed again, deep and rich, drawing another sound from you. “Do you wanna take off those jeans, baby girl?”

You didn’t bother to respond, immediately standing up and taking your pants off. You opened Snapchat again and set the camera to record, making sure your face was out of frame as you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your thong. You swiveled your hips teasingly, pretending to take your panties off before turning around. You showed off your ass, jiggling your cheeks with your hands, and then pulled your top off before cutting off the camera.

“Baby? You still with me?”

“I am. I’m with you, Lixie.” He groaned at the name as you quickly cut the end of the video so it didn’t catch you turning around and hit send as you sat back down. You didn’t say anything else as you waited for him to open your message. You heard his phone buzz on his desk and bit your lip as you listened, watching the message change from ‘sent’ to ‘opened’.

He inhaled sharply through his nose then cursed under his breath. “Jesus, y/n, you’re killing me. Can I save this?”

“You can.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you got the notification and giggled softly. You didn’t expect him to send anything back but you were pleasantly surprised when he sent a photo of his tented gray sweats, captioned ‘this is your fault, princess’. After a beat of silence, during which you admired his bulge and his hand resting on his thigh, you spoke again. “Can I save this?”

“You can.” You immediately hit save and leaned back in your chair, placing your phone back on your desk. “I want you to run your hands down your body and tease your thighs, baby girl. Tell me how it feels, what exactly you’re doing.”

You wasted no time in running your hands down your torso before allowing your fingertips to graze along the insides of your thighs. You gasped at the sensation and lightly dragged your nails over the skin there. “Feels good…’m just barely touching my thighs, lightly scratching myself and imagining it’s your hands instead.”

You were starting to sound worked up and by this point, he was so hard it hurt. “Tell me more. Do you wanna touch yourself?”

“I do…can I?”

“You don’t need my permission, baby. Go ahead and touch yourself. Tell me all about it.”

“Are you?” You asked quietly as you slipped a hand into your panties. “Can you tell me what you’re doing too?”

“I am.” He confirmed, taking a stilted breath. “I’m just touching myself through my sweatpants right now, listening to your pretty sounds. I’m so fucking hard right now…”

His soft groan made you impossibly wetter and you whimpered as you finally ghosted your middle finger over your clit. “Good…I can’t be the only one this turned on.”

“And just how turned on are you?” His voice was a low rumble in your ears and you clenched around nothing as your free hand adjusted your headset.

“I’m fucking dripping, Lixie.” You whined, a small pout forming on your lips as you dipped a finger into your wetness. You dragged your arousal up to your clit and sighed at the sensation. “God I wish you were here right now, I just know your hands would feel so good…”

“Mm what about my mouth? I could eat you out forever if you’d let me.” You whimpered at the thought and stood abruptly, shoving your panties down your legs and dropping them with your jeans. You settled back in and draped your legs over the armrests of your gaming chair, immediately slipping your hand back between your legs. “Hey baby?” You hummed in response as your fingers circled your clit before teasing at your entrance. “Can you moan my name? I’m dying to hear it.”

You let your eyes slip shut and slid two fingers in your dripping cunt, a small moan tumbling from your lips as your palm ground against your clit while you stretched yourself open. You allowed yourself to imagine him knelt between your legs, fingers plunged deep inside you, and called out his name as you clenched at the thought. “Fuck, Felix, please…” Just as you moaned for him, your phone buzzed. You grabbed it and opened the Snapchat video he sent you, biting your lip when you saw the tip of his cock peeking out from his waistband, already drooling on his belly as his thumb brushed back and forth across his sweats. “Oh- can I save it?”

“Of course, princess.” You quickly saved it and bit your lip as you contemplated what you were about to ask. Before you could speak though, he beat you to it. “Baby…can we turn our cameras on? We don’t have to but I’d certainly like to see you.”

“I was about to ask the same thing…” As soon as the words left your lips, he switched his camera on and you were met with the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. He was reclined in his gaming chair, shirtless and with his dick out. You wanted to reach through the screen the second you saw him. He settled back and waited for you to turn your camera on, wrapping his hand around his thick shaft as you tried to force your eyes away long enough to complete the task at hand. “You’re so fucking pretty, Lixie…” You whispered as you turned your camera on.

You saw his cock twitch in his hand and you weren’t sure if it was because of what you said or because of the way you presented yourself to him. Your LED lights paired with a lamp in the corner made you glow and your pussy glistened in the purple lighting. “Holy shit, baby girl…” His voice was strained as gave his cock a single tug before releasing it. “God I want a taste…can you tell me how you taste, princess?”

You eagerly stuffed your messy fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean with a moan, your free hand kneading your breasts. “So fucking sweet. It’s so good, Lix.” You watched as he began to slowly work his dick, resting his head back against his chair and peeking out at you.

“I’m gonna get you out here so I can taste you for myself, I swear.” He let out a moan in a pitch you weren’t expecting as he jerked off and your pussy clenched. “Bury my head between your legs for hours and make you shake…”

“Please do.” You slid your fingers back inside yourself and curled them, searching for your g-spot. You gasped when you found it and called his name as if it was him touching you. You heard his breathing grow ragged as he watched you, both of you barreling towards the edge as you fingered yourself.

The image of him fucking his hand would forever be burned into your mind and you couldn’t even pretend to be mad about it. He was turned on by you. You were the reason he was touching himself. You were the reason he called out to you and warned you of his impending orgasm. “Gonna fuckin’ cum, princess-”

“Do it. Show me how gorgeous you look when you let go, Lixie.” You begged, eyes locked on the image of his angry red cock on your screen. Your words sent him spiraling and you watched as his cum landed all over his belly and hand, more desperate moans falling from his lips.

A lazy smile spread across his face as his moan turned into a chuckle. “Your turn, sweetheart.” He teased, obliging you when you asked him to taste himself. “It’s good but I’m willing to bet it’d be a thousand percent better mixed with yours. Maybe I’ll cum inside and eat it out of your pretty pussy.” You made a pathetic sound and he smirked. “You like that idea?” You nodded and gasped when you gently pinched your nipple.

“Fucking love it…” You nodded, your free hand moving to your throat. “I’m so fucking close, oh my god-” You keened, carefully restricting blood flow as you choked yourself.

“Yeah? My dirty girl gonna cum for me?” The name was the last straw and you cried out an affirmation as your legs clamped shut around your hand, liquid bliss filling your veins as you came undone. “Look how pretty you are when you cum…I can’t wait to get you like this by my own hands, princess.”

He coached you through your orgasm and listened as you repeated his name over and over, trying his damndest not to get hard again. After a couple minutes, your breathing began to even out and he sat up properly in his chair, grabbing a couple tissues to clean up with. “You did such a good job, pretty girl.” He cooed and you smiled softly. “Why don’t you clean yourself up and if you’re feeling up to it we can play another round or watch something together? Or if you’d rather go to sleep we can hang up and-”

“I do wanna sleep but if you hang up on Discord it better be to call me back on Snapchat and talk with me until I nod off.” You teased as you righted yourself in your chair. “Your voice is so warm and comforting. It’s nice to fall asleep to…” You added and he smiled softly at you, eyes full of adoration.

“Okay, I’ll call you there. Go get cleaned up and let me know when you’re ready.” You nodded and muttered a soft ‘goodbye’ before he ended the call.

✨lixie✨ is offline

<-d-6 | d-8->

[cupidbedsy]

ꕤ food is the way to a man's stomach ; and they were roommates

➪ summary: jamie comes home to see his girlfriend baking a plethora of cookies and can't help but wonder why as he helps her decorate them

➪ warnings: none... i think

➪ word count: 0.6k

➪ cupid's notes: so sorry for the lack of updates, this happens a lot tbh. anyway, welcome back to 12 days and i will try my hardest to make sure all of them are out by or on christmas !

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Jamie walked through the apartment door and was immediately hit by the smell of cookies. His eyes landed on his girlfriend, who was standing in the middle of their kitchen, her apron loosely tied around her waist, hair pulled up in a ponytail, and flour covering her head to toe. 

He chuckled at the sight, wrapping an arm around her waist as he came to stand next to her, “Hey.”

She flashed him a grin, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “Hi baby. Just in time, try these.”

Bella handed her boyfriend one of the many cookies that were on the cooling rack before moving to place another tray in the oven. He hummed as he took a bite, nodding, “S’good. How many have you made so far?”

“Only a few…”

Jamie gave her a knowing look and she blushed sheepishly, “Okay maybe a lot more than a few but-”

“C’mon, lemme shower and then I’ll help you decorate them.”

“Really?” An excited gleam shone in her eyes, staring up at him. 

“Yeah, ‘course. I’ll be back.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When Jamie exited their bedroom, Bella was still in just an organized mess as she was in before. Except now, multiple cookie tins were sitting on the kitchen counter, another batch of cookie dough was in the mixer, and about two dozen cookies sat in front of her with different sprinkles and icing to the side. 

He raised his eyebrows in amusement, standing on the other side of the counter across from her, “Alright boss. What do you want me to do?”

He held his hands up in surrender when she glared at him, his all too familiar cheeky grin on his face. She handed him a cookie shaped like a gingerbread man, “This is your practice cookie. Mess this up and you’re out.”

“I didn’t know we were taking this so seriously.”

“We’re not, I just don’t want you to make a mess. So if you even so much as fuck anything here up while doing that cookie, I’m putting you in timeout.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Jamie!”

He laughed, already going to work on the cookie he’d been given. Bella on the other hand just watched him carefully in between checking on the cookies that were in the oven and starting to cut the next batch of dough into circles. 

It was when she was pulling the tray out of the oven that Jamie finished, beaming with pride as he showed her, “Look!”

She placed the tray on the stove, took the oven mitts off, and threw them on the counter before looking over. She nodded, a small smile on her face, “It looks good Jam.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, pick whichever one you want to do,” she gestured to the counter, “These are the last ones. The other ones I just have to sprinkle white sugar on them and then they’ll be done.”

Jamie got back to work, making sure each cookie looked nice and that he wouldn’t make a mess. He’d look up occasionally, smiling fondly as his girlfriend placed the other cookies in their own tins. 

“What’re these even for?”

“The team. Mom and I always made cookies every year and then in college, I gave some to Trev and he shared them with the team and then people started begging for them, and now… it’s sort of just tradition, I guess.” She explained, redoing her ponytail. 

“So basically, it’s Trevor’s fault?”

She giggled, taking a seat next to him on one of the stools, leaning her head on his shoulder, “Yeah. But it worked out, ended up winning the guys over and now we’re close. Food is the way to a man’s stomach, I suppose.”

She grabbed a cookie, handing it to him, “Here. Made this one for you.”He looked down, seeing the words ‘Trevor’s Boyfriend’ written across it. He huffed, whining slightly, “Hey.”

꒰ AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES TAGLIST ꒱

@winterbarnesblog @kei943 @digitalhughes-jpg @bunbunbl0gs @fantillisgirl

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