#and thought yall might like to hear about it too

[arsenicflame]

i mean, i still don't actually talk to people, but my god getting back on tumblr has been so good for me. who knew interacting with people who share your interests could be so good for your mental health?

[sillyblues]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic

part 1

Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.

Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.

If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.

More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.

Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—

“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window. 

“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.

“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”

“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”

You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.

“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.

“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”

“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.

“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.

“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”

Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.

“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”

There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.

“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle. 

“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”

“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.

“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,

“But, Miguel..”

“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”

“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.

“Pfft, really?”

“Yes, really.”

There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.

“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”

“...I missed you all too.”

.

.

.

The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.

What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.

During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.

“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly. 

“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”

“Oh no.” you silently snorted.

“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”

“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.

“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.

Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.

“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”

You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”

“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.

“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.

“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.

“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.

“You had a fight, didn’t you?”

“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”

“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation. 

“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.

“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.

But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did. 

On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had. 

“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.

“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.

“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.

You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.

“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.

“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.

“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”

“Never.” 

“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.

“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”

You start to walk away.

“[Name], por favor,”

You were nearing the exit.

“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.

“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”

What?

“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.

“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”

“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.

“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.

“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears. 

Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.

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[clonecaptains]

No Vacancy

a tyler owens x shy reader fic

warnings: none! she/her pronouns mentioned; no use of y/n; this is all cozy fluff

word count: 3k

summary: you're part of the wrangler crew and have a crush on tyler. and you're debating on acting on these feelings. you might just get your chance when he shows up at your motel room.

a/n: this is my first tyler fic! this is the ol 'there's only one bed' trope - and im already planning a part two! hope yall enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All these motel rooms look the same. Warm earth tones all over the place and strange prints on the bedspread. But after a long day like today, it’s a welcome sight. That bed’s calling your name. You shrug your bag off your shoulder and hit the light switch. The lamp in the corner illuminates the room in a warm glow. It’s cozy.

The door clicks behind you; and you stand in the room for a moment deciding what you want to do next. Your job was done for the day. You are the official tornado wrangler social media accounts manager. Now that the wrangler team has gained a substantial following, it’s your job to post updates about new videos or the latest t-shirt design up for charity purposes. You’ve posted what you needed to post for the day, and now is your chance to rest.

You decide on a shower to think about the events of the day while you clean off.

Today was a first for you. It was your first time being in tornado while sitting in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck. You’ve been on the team now for a while, but it was part of your initiation they’d said. Tyler was sweet. He pulled you aside telling you that you didn’t have to if you didn’t want to. And you really didn’t want to, but you wanted to prove to yourself that you could. More than that, you trusted Tyler would keep you safe.

You loved watching him, and his excitement was contagious despite your fears of this major storm. He’d been blasting his storm playlist, but when it got close to the moment, he made sure you were ok.

When the storm hit and passed you over, you couldn’t help but scream – in fear or excitement you don’t know. You grabbed Tyler’s arm in the heat of the moment, and feeling his warm skin under your fingertips was more of a thrill than the storm was.

You’re not sure how well you’re keeping the secret that you’re completely in love with him. You fell the first day you met him several months ago. And while you did prove to yourself that you could handle a tornado – you don’t know if you can handle the ache you feel when you’re around him. Riding shotgun in his truck today and touching his arm will keep you on cloud nine for the next week.

A creak in the pipes of this old motel tears you from your thoughts. You get out of the shower and dry off to put on your pjs. That’s when your mind drifts back to Tyler. How sweet he was with you all day leading up to your first tornado, and how he let you hold his arm. How he checked on you a dozen times after to make sure you weren’t too shaken.

You were shaken, but not but the storm. No matter how often you’re around him – he has the same effect on you. He makes you feel dizzy. His presence is so hard to ignore. It’s not just his handsome face or broad muscular frame – though that certainly is a factor – it’s his charm and relaxed demeanor. He’s a perfect balance of rowdy and sweet. And you are smitten.

You wince thinking about how it’s probably painfully obvious to the rest of the team. And what’s worse, it’s obvious to him too. If he’s seen it – and hasn’t said anything then you can only assume he doesn’t feel the same way.

All of this goes through your mind during your nightly routine. It’s early in the night, you left the wranglers down in the parking lot – most of them were still having a beer chatting over the day’s storm. You can faintly hear people talking outside while the night is winding down.

You settle into bed turning on the TV when you hear keys turning in the lock on your door. Much to your surprise – the door opens and who but Tyler himself is standing in the doorway. He’s just as confused as you. He steps backwards out of the doorway to check the key in his hand and the number on the door. He smiles with a soft huff – shaking his head at something you didn’t know what until later.

“This is the right room according to this,” he holds up the key and closes the door behind him. Suddenly the room feels a hundred times smaller. You feel yourself start to panic.

“They set this up,” Tyler continues. “I know it was Boone,” he laughs setting his bag down on the table near the door. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he tells you right away to try and ease the fear he can probably see in your eyes.

You don’t have a reply because you’re still shocked he’s standing in your room.

“You did great today by the way,” Tyler was still talking, and you were glad for it.

But you do find your voice, “Thank you.” That actually means a lot to you.

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. He’s rifling through his bag.

“No, no,” you feign being nonchalant and he cracks a smile. “Tyler, do you want to check if there’s another room available?” you ask him in the same breath. “I don’t want you to sleep on the floor, that won’t be comfortable at all.”

“Tryin’ to kick me out?” he gives a little wink as he reaches for the phone to call the front desk.

The phone call was quick – not long enough for you to decide which outcome you’d prefer.

Do you want him to stay? if he stayed then you’d have to deal with your crush being in your room all night. Having to play it cool as best you could. Or do you want him to leave? And regret later that you didn’t say anything about how you felt when you had a good chance to in this moment

The choice is made for you in the span of a few seconds.

“No more rooms,” he clicked his tongue. “The floor’ll be fine!”

That’s one of the things you admire most about him. He’s considerate and polite – and he’s happy to be. You know the floor is not comfortable. But he offered like it was the most common thing in the world.

“I am gonna shower first,” he says. “You showered right?” he asks pointing at you, and you nod “yeah! Go for it!”

Now that he knew he was staying, he takes off his boots. Something about them resting on the floor by the doorway makes your heart ache. It’s so close to what it could be like if you were together. A taste of domestic life with Tyler.

He disappears into the bathroom, and you resume flipping through the TV channels. You hope that will distract you from thinking about your crush being very naked and wet on the other side of that door. It’s not like you intentionally linger on it, but when you hear the shower curtain rings slide along the curtain rod and the water kick on - your face warms heavily.

When you hear him quietly hum in the shower, you feel yourself begin to relax. Something about it warms your heart, you think maybe he feels comfortable and doesn’t mind being heard while he hums.

You know the tune, one of the songs he’d been blasting in the truck recently. That makes you think back to being in the tornado again. You can’t believe you did that. Maybe that is your sign to do something else brave. If you could weather that storm surely you could admit your feelings to Tyler.

What if he didn’t feel the same? Then you’d have to awkwardly share a room, and the rest of the time spent working at this job with him knowing you have a crush on him.

How many times have you heard him say “if you feel it, chase it.” If he felt it, would he not have chased it by now? You feel it and you want to chase him, but he makes your knees weak.

What if he does feel the same? How do you maneuver this? There are too many questions, and you don’t know any of the answers. All that you know was you have it bad for him and it hurts. It’s such an ache. Being around him all the time for work, but never having him. You’re embarrassed to admit how much touching his arm earlier was a thrill, it’s all you’d been able to think about.

The more you think about all of this, the harder your heart beats. You’ve barely had time to process anything since he’s been in your room. It gets even worse when the shower stops. You hear when the curtain opens, and when his feet touch the floor.

Then you hear your name.

“There aren’t any towels.”

Oh no. You forgotten you’d used them both. You weren’t expecting to have to share.

“I’ll go get you one! I’m sorry I used them both!” You grab the key and dart out the room, you dn’t even care that someone might see you in your pajamas. You’d rather go grab one for him than wait awkwardly for a towel to be brought up. The less you have to think about him naked in the next room the better for your sanity.

You grab the towels and an extra pillow from the front desk and head back.

“I’m coming in!” You laugh opening the door, and you hear him laugh from the bathroom. “Ok I have them,” you tell him near the bathroom door. He opens it just a smidge and sticks his hand out. You both laugh when you hand him the towels. The awkward moment acknowledged and laughed at instead of worrying about it.

“Thank you,” he replies as he closes the door.

You sit on the bed again, but this time instead of sitting in the middle – you sit more on one side. It’s big enough for you to share so you don’t see why not. It’s not fair for him to sleep on the floor.

As hard as you try to prepare yourself for sharing a bed with him, it lands like a brick in the pit of your stomach when he steps out of the bathroom. The scent of his bodywash hits you first, you always loved how he smells. But just looking at him, he’s a dream.

He’s wearing a soft worn t-shirt and some gym shorts. His hair’s a mess, and it makes you giggle to see it so unruly. He smiles at your quiet laugh.

“Something funny?” he prods running the towel over his head again before hooking it on the back of the door.

“Your hair is always so perfect!”

“You’re getting an exclusive behind the scenes look,” he smiles moving towards the table where he’d put his stuff. He digs through his bag to pull out his phone and charger - plugging it into the nearest outlet.

“Tyler?” your voice comes out timid. He looks up from his phone and sets it down to give you his attention. “You can stay up here,” you point to the empty half of the bed. “I got an extra pillow too.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” his eyes are soft, his brows furrow.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable on the floor!”

He’s quiet for a moment. He looks at his hat sitting on the table amongst his things, and he strokes along the brim of the hat. Usually, you’re able to read him but this leaves you a little miffed. It makes your heart start to beat a little faster from the anticipation.

“Alright,” he decides standing up.

Ok, ok. Don’t panic. This is what you asked for.

He checks the lock on the door making sure it’s locked, and he turns off the floor lamp in the corner.

“On or off?” he asks near the bathroom. When you tell him ‘Off’, he taps that light switch and the loud hum from that light stops. The only light now is from the TV across from the bed.

Your heart is fluttering in your chest when he pulls the covers back. When he sits down and you feel his weight on the mattress - that really gets your heart pounding. He pulls the blankets back over himself and lays down with a heavy sigh. You know he’s tired, he’d been driving like a maniac into storms all day.

Though he’s more than just a rowdy storm chaser, he works long hours helping families and doing charity work. You love him for all these things. And you’re glad it’s dark because you feel like you might cry. He’s so close, and you have no idea what to say or do to tell him what you feel.

“Can I turn this off?” you ask trying to hide the quiver in your voice.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies and sinks further into the blankets. Both of you shift to get comfortable now in the dark, and his leg touches yours - causing you to jump. You don’t mean to gasp, but it slips out.

“Sorry!” he laughs and it relieves some tension. Some. You can’t calm down and you don’t know how to. He’s just a few inches away!! You were both lying on your backs, and his shoulder’s almost touching yours. You can still smell his body wash from earlier.

Just say it. Tell him you love him. You survived a tornado today!

You try to hype yourself up, but it isn’t working.

Before you plan out anything to say, you blurt out his name. That’s all you can muster. But this time, it’s worse than before, and your voice quivers audibly. More than that, you’re starting to tremble.

“Hey, hey- it’s ok,” he rolls over on his side to face you. “Me too,” he says and you have no idea what he’s talking about. Until he reachs for you in the dark. “Give me your hand,” he whispers and you roll on your side to face him. You reach towards him, and he gently wraps his hand around your wrist – guiding it to his chest. He puts your hand over his heart, and you feel it pounding under the warmth of his skin and soft shirt. “You see, I have a crush on this girl-“

Your eyes have adjusted in the dark and it’s enough to see the soft, almost shy look he gives you.

“Really?” you whisper. “Me?”

He lets go of your wrist and puts his hand on top of yours and presses down, emphasizing his point.

“Why haven’t you said anything til now? What happened to ‘if you feel it chase it’?”

He clears his throat comically and shifts a little, “Well, I-, ok you got me. Maybe I was a little nervous.” He shrugs. Your hand hasn’t moved from his chest, neither has his hand. He slowly starts to curl his fingers around your hand.

“You? Nervous for me? Do you know what I’ve been thinking about all day today?” you pause. “I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this.” He scoots a little closer to you, ready to listen. “It wasn’t the tornado I’ve been thinking about. It’s been how it felt to touch your arm today.” Your face is on fire. But it gives you a thrill to feel his heart jump and see the smile on his face widen.

He lets go of your hand and hooks his arm so his forearm is close to your face. “Would you like to again?” he teases, and you shove his chest playfully. He laughs, a good deep laugh. He’s relieved and happy. It makes your face hurt from your own smile, and you shyly move your hand from his chest to touch his forearm.

The air shifts. You both feel it when you stroke up and down his arm. You aren’t going to tell him how much you love feeling his arm hair under your fingertips. But he could probably figure it out. Maybe you didn’t mind if he knew.

He reaches for you then, your hand curls around his wrist this time. His hand cradles the back of your head, and he pulls you closer.

“I’m sorry I waited so long for this, I didn’t want to scare you. But truth is I was scared,” he admits.

“I was too, I was scared you didn’t feel the same way,” you whisper back. Your faces are so close to each other, and your bodies almost touching. You can feel the warmth from him.

He lets out a soft grunt like he’s been hit, shocked at what you just said to him.

“Can I?” he asks. You know what he’s asking. His expression is so sweet, so gentle. Another reason you love him. You feel safe in his presence, in his grasp.

“Yes,” you whisper, and then you start to laugh at yourself.

“What?” he smiles laughing.

“I was just gonna say you should ‘chase it’,” you smile. You barely finish the sentence before he closes the gap between you. Warm lips on yours, his nose pressing into your cheek. The stubble on his chin brushes your skin as you whimper into his mouth.

It’s a brief kiss before it breaks. There’s a slight pause where you look at each other smiling, enjoying the moment. Then he dives in for a deeper kiss. His arms pulling you closer, holding you tight to him. Though you wouldn’t dream of pulling away.

At some point you do break apart, both a little breathless. You feel dizzy and lovesick from the way he’s looking at you; something tells you he feels the same.

He starts to laugh again, shaking his head. “We won’t hear the end of this one.”

“Nope,” you smile knowing already what Lily and Dani will have to say.

“I know Boone had a hand in this.”

“Lily and Dani too, they’ve been pushing me to talk to you for weeks,” you giggle burying your face in his neck. He hugs you to him and squeezes. He adds a little reassuring rub on your back. “I’m still scared,” you admit, a secret murmured into his skin.

“I know,” he squeezes again. “Me too. Don’t want to lose you. But you’re worth chasing.”

You hum happily into his neck when a big yawn takes over you.

“Sorry,” you giggle, his laugh joining yours.

“You had a big day. Riding in your first tornado! That and the kissin’ outta wear anybody out,” he winks. Then tilts his head down to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep.”

“Don’t let go,” you yawn, cuddling into his chest.

He whispers quietly against the top of your head, “never.”

[purinfelix]

just for the weekend ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - franco colapinto

summary: your teammate has an absolutely ridiculous plan to bring your team back from the dead - but it might be just crazy enough to work w/c: 5.5k + some smau style tweets warnings: a little angst, some uncomfortable touching/kissing since it's fake dating (not too bad but better safe than sorry), some miscommunication - just two idiots in love i fear

a/n: WOW it's finally here, fake dating is literally a guilty pleasure trope for me so i hope yall enjoy this HAHA - also sorry to Williams fans bc there's a lot of slander in this but trust its all for the plot <333 (also holy shit this is the longest fic I've ever written WOW)

"You're actually insane."

"Oh c'mon, at least think about it for a minute, it's perfect!"

You fold your arms over your chest and try your best to look uninterested in whatever it is your teammate has to say. The two of you had been racing together for a little over half a year now, and you had witnessed him make (at least in your opinion) a grand fool of himself. Flirting with interviewers, winking at cameras, having absolutely no filter during press conferences - but this, this was by far the craziest thing you had heard come out of his mouth.

"A fake relationship?"

"Ah ah ah," he tuts, jutting a finger in your face, "a media relationship, one that will draw the attention away from how crap we're doing and onto the personalities of the team. Think about it, McLaren has whatever Oscar and Lando have got going on and Ferrari basically has two models for drivers. We need something to put us on the map, to make people care about us!"

You pause, and for a minute you seriously consider his outrageous proposition - he isn't completely wrong. For the two of you, making it into the points range was a rare occurrence, and even though the team always made sure to celebrate it like a podium there was something that stung about constantly being at the bottom.

"Do you realise how much trouble we could get into?"

"Ah," he sighs, and it's starting to annoy you how lightly he's talking about this, "ever the pragmatist."

"Well one of us has to be if the other's going to keep saying stupid shit," you huff before turning around and beelining out of his driver's room.

Seriously, a fake relationship? Had he lost his mind? Maybe if he focused more on his racing you wouldn't be constantly outperforming him.

"At least think about it, okay?" You hear him call out from behind you, and consider yourself lucky to be facing the other way so that he doesn't catch your obnoxious eye roll. Surely he had to be kidding because there was no way you were going to devote any amount of time to this ridiculous thought.

God fucking damnit.

It was frustratingly confusing, the kind of power Franco had. You had witnessed it first hand with how smoothly he spoke to anyone and managed to get his way almost instantly - but this was your first time experiencing it first-hand. It was another weekend, another country, another race, but the only thing you could think of was his stupid consideration - which, with each passing moment, seemed increasingly genius.

You had almost a year of experience with the team over your teammate, and with that, your fair share of embarrassment and disappointment. Sure, his idea was a little out there but you were close to being at your wits end and if nothing else, you hoped this would at least be a little fun. Plus you were pretty sure at this point if you didn't act on this thought soon, it would start interfering with your performance.

"Fine," you said a little breathlessly as you burst into his driver's room ahead of a race.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at you with a shocked look, "whatever happened to knocking? I could've been naked in here!"

You roll your eyes before continuing, "You still up to the ..." You pause, thinking of how best to word it, "Fake relationship thing?"

His eyes light up immediately, "Ah, I knew you'd come around eventually."

Letting out a soft huff, just to let him know that you still aren't fully convinced this will work, you sit down on his couch. "I think we should lay down some ground rules first."

"Yes ma'am." He nods, straightening up and forcing a serious expression you can only assume is mocking yours.

"Firstly, no kissing."

"Understood."

"Actually no public affection at all, holding hands, hugging, nothing."

"Oh sure and how exactly are we going to convince people then?"

You pause, thinking for a little, "Okay maybe hand-holding and hugs are fine, but you better not push it - that goes for the pet names as well." He nods with a satisfied smile.

"And no one other than us two can know this is fake, alright? Otherwise, it'll spoil the plan."

"Trust me, I don't need anyone knowing I'm going along with something as ridiculous as this. It'll be our little secret."

"Our little secret," he repeats with a hum, a sly sort of smile spreading across his face as he gets up from his spot. "See you after the race, my love."

You sighed in exasperation, tossing your phone to the side of the couch in your driver's room where it fell with a light thud. You had about a thousand other things to be worrying about - your pretty disappointing result in qualifying for one - but for some reason, the main thing on your mind was your 'relationship' with Franco. Somehow, it had proved even more intense than you had expected, which planted a seed of worry in your mind as you realised how hard this was actually going to be to pull off. Since his not-so-subtle announcement to a hoard of hungry press members at last week's race, the media had managed up a flurry about the two of you.

There were supportive fans who liked you both enough not to see any problem with two teammates dating, as well as others who were more sceptical about how it might impact your performance. However, what really seemed to get to you were those who doubted you more than the relationship.

Your social media had been bombarded with comments and theories about the reason behind your relationship, doubting your place on the grid, and calling you names that - after shedding the status of 'first girl rookie', you thought you had left behind. Regardless, you feel a little stupid for being so unprepared for all this - not just the tweets but the harsh articles, the questions during press interviews and even shouting fans. Maybe if you had done a little more thinking about it first, you would've realised this was a stupid idea that should've been left at just that.

Throwing your head back you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to clear your head so that you could move on and focus on the race that was happening tomorrow. The last thing you wanted was for this plan to start impacting your driving. But Franco always seemed to have the worst timing - or best, depending on who you asked.

"Hello?" A couple quick knocks alert you of his presence before he cracks the door just wide enough to peek in. "There's my beautiful girlfriend." The way the pet names and affection seem to come to him so easily makes you simultaneously impressed and concerned, unsure of whether it's an indication of his great acting or flirting skills.

"What do you want?" You try to make it as obvious as you can that you're not in the mood, and he realises this right away.

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were free after this."

"You know I'm not really a huge fan of the big team dinners, especially not when we have a race tomorrow."

"Oh it's not like that, I was just going to go check out a restaurant near our hotel and wondered if you wanted to join me."

When you finally speak it's just above a whisper, "Is this a part of the fake dating thing?"

He laughs softly, his ability to find everything entertaining has always amazed you. "If you want to, it can be. If that gives you a reason to come hang out with me, though if you don't it's totally fine."

"No, I'll come, not like I've got anything better to do." You hate how every word you've said so far has sounded so pathetic.

"Great, I'll meet you by the paddock entry in ten?"

"See you then."

The street lights were dim, just bright enough to illuminate the street the two of you were walking down. The night was cool and still, and there were barely any people out other than you. You weren't sure why, but you had ended up telling Franco a lot more than you had expected. Maybe it was the extremely fancy restaurant you had initially gone to or the local one the two of you agreed to ditch it for instead, or maybe it was just the freeing feeling of being in another country.

The two of you had talked before, of course - as teammates it was difficult to avoid. But beyond the casual small talk, discussions about strategies or banter during challenges your relationship never extended beyond casual co-existence. It was one of the reasons you were glad your higher-ups had never tried to force the two of you into a professional friendship. There was something about Franco, his ability to strike up a conversation and maintain it even when the topic clearly strayed far beyond his interests, that made him so likeable, so easy to get along with. And the support he got from fans and the media reflected this well. You just never felt like there was any room for you in that equation.

But here, away from the cameras and shedding the roles of drivers, the two of you became normal people. You spoke, you laughed, you vented to him everything that worried you about your 'relationship' and he listened throughout all of it - all the while the two of you shared the biggest, best, pizza you had ever had.

"I have to say, I don't know if our engineers will appreciate the extra weight I've just put on," he jokes, breaking the comfortable silence that had been lingering around you two as you walked.

"Me neither, they might have to roll me into the car at this rate."

"You know, I think this is the first time the two of us have hung out, just us two."

You think for a little before answering, "You're right."

"Do you think there's a reason for that?"

"You mean besides us both being extremely busy people and already seeing each other pretty often? Not really, no."

"Good point, though with our little plan, we're definitely going to be seeing each other a lot more."

There's a beat of silence. "This is nice though, right?" He asks, and his voice is so tentative you almost find it endearing.

"It is nice, this was fun." You try not to think too much about the fact the two of you could be mistaken by any passer-by as a couple of lovebirds on a first date - or that fact that even to those who knew you, you were.

"I appreciate you telling me all that stuff, you know, about what people are saying about you."

"Oh, if anything I should be thanking you for listening to me vent about it."

"It is serious though, I'm so stupid for not even thinking about what you'd have to deal with."

"Well I don't think either of us gave it enough thought but," you pause and look up at him, "we're too far in to back out now."

He shoots you a comforting smile, one that shows how reassured he feels that you seem to finally be coming around to his idea. That is, at least, before his face morphs into one of discomfort.

"God, I'm so full."

"We're almost back at the hotel now, let's just sleep and then we can wake up early tomorrow morning to-"

"Wait, is that ice cream?" Franco interrupts you to point out a street vendor who's about to pack up for the night, and before you know it he's running up to the man eagerly. You can only follow suit with a sigh, knowing full well you wouldn't mind some dessert either.

"You two are lucky, you'll be my last customers for the night," the moustachioed owner of the cart says with a warm smile.

"Thanks," you reply kindly, before turning to Franco, "what flavour do you think you'll get."

"Hm, not sure, maybe chocolate?"

"Wow, boring."

He scoffs, "Oh yeah? And what exotic flavour are you going to get then?"

"Mint choc," you smile, but your face drops once you see your teammate's disgusted expression.

"You've got to be kidding me, that's like the worst choice."

You feign offence, "How dare you insult the best ice cream flavour of all time?"

"Ah, you two are quite the couple," the man laughs and you watch as Franco's eyes widen in embarrassment.

"Oh we're not-"

"Thank you," it's your turn to interrupt him, turning to the man with a smile. "One chocolate and one mint choc chip please."

You go to reach for your wallet to pay but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you.

"No, it's okay, I got this."

"Wh- Franco c'mon you know full well both of us could afford about a thousand of these ice cream cones don't be ridiculous."

"I know," he smiles and even though he's trying to be serious you know he's also trying not to laugh, "but I just figured you know, I'm the one who dragged you out here and like, got you into this whole fake dating mess."

You furrow your brows, a little confused at what exactly he's getting at.

"I guess I just want to say thank you, you know?"

"Alright, alright," you laugh softly, watching as he pays and takes both of the cones, handing you yours. Once you grab yours, you instinctively loop your arm around his, pulling him close and resting your head against his shoulder. The ice cream man laughs endearingly at the two of you.

"You're the best boyfriend ever!" you say in as high and cute a voice you can manage, cringing a little but determined to keep up the bit - you don't even bother to think about how fast you can feel Franco's heart race when you do.

Last night was really nice. You're sitting next to your race engineer, nodding along as she points to various multi-coloured dots and lines on the screen. You hear yourself agreeing with a couple quick "mhms", "of course" and "yep"s even though you can barely hear what she's saying. You're mere minutes away from getting in your car for a race, getting briefed on your strategy, and the only thing you can think of is the 'date' you had with Franco last night - if you can even call it that.

You had thought that getting everything off your chest, the hate comments, the doubt you had, would help you feel better and relieve any worries you had. And it did, at least until you got back to your hotel room alone and caught yourself smiling at the thought of seeing your teammate again the next day. How, even as you washed up and got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking - pizza, ice cream, walking at night together, isn't that something a real couple would do?

"Are you listening to me?" your race engineer's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, causing you to straighten up immediately.

"Yes! Sorry," you mumble, but just at that moment, you see him walk into the garage, greeting a couple of the mechanics warmly. Before you realise it, he's beelining straight for you, his arm coming around your waist as he leans in close to your ear.

"There's a ton of cameras, I just wanted to be believable," he whispers, and when he pulls back you can see the smile on his face. You nod curtly, fully aware of how red your face feels over such a small interaction as he waltzes away.

"Okay, so as I was saying," your race engineer pipes up again, though you couldn't be paying her less of your attention - watching as your 'boyfriend' walks off, his brown hair illuminating in the afternoon light. For a fake relationship, the quickening pace of your heart felt far too real.

"Well you two have been teammates since the beginning of this year, can you tell us a little about when you realised you might be more?"

Your struggle was never-ending - or at least, that's what it felt like, finding yourself at the centre of an impromptu interview with Franco. Around you, the other drivers were getting questions about their place in their teams, how they felt about their current strategy and about their racing futures. And there the two of you were, getting thrown question after question about your 'relationship'.

"Well," you begin, before being saved by your teammate. You had to give it to him - he was great at making stuff up on the spot.

"Well, I think it was somewhere around a month after I first joined the team, and met her. It was just something about her, she's sort of electric in this almost untouchable way, you know?"

You try not to look too awkward standing next to him as he talks, feigning your best-interested smile - though a part of you is extremely intrigued by this fake story he's creating.

"At first I thought I just wanted to be like her, her passion and talent were just so respectable, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised it was something completely different."

He turns to look at you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your expression falters a little as you're caught off guard by the sudden contact and as you turn away from the journalists and towards him, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of his pursed lips nearing yours. Before you realise it, his lips are against yours and you're pulling away as quickly as possible, face bright red. You're just barely aware of the thousands of flashing camera lights as you turn to quickly excuse yourself.

"Thank you all for coming, it was nice talking to you but, uhm, I have to go!" You hurriedly blurt out before slipping out of Franco's grip and darting off to your driver's room.

You hear his footsteps following closely behind you, as well as the sound of him calling out your name. When you near the door of your room, you turn around and grab his wrist to yank him in before you shut the door.

"What the hell was that?" is all you can muster out, "I thought we agreed no kissing?"

"Look, I can explain!"

You cross your arms with a huff, looking at him expectedly.

"I was just going to peck you quickly on the cheek, you know because we were getting all romantic and I wanted it to be believable! B-but then you turned, and then we," he's struggling not to ramble and his quickly moving hands do little to help. That's when you also realise his face is bright red as well, and he doesn't seem any less flustered by it than you do. "I'm really, really sorry I really shouldn't have done that."

You'd be lying if you said his explanation didn't make you feel any better. You're not actually upset about the kiss itself though, in fact, it's the opposite - actually, the grudge you're holding is doing little to help the internal struggle going on in your head. The kiss didn't make you angry, but the realisation that you wanted it to be real, did.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump down in the nearest chair. Franco does the same on the adjacent couch, though his gaze stays carefully on you, almost afraid of what you might say next.

"It's fine, I think we just need to coordinate our PDA a little better then."

"Yes, of course," he nods quickly.

There's a beat of silence. "You're really good at acting though."

"What?"

"That whole story you made up about how you fell in love with me, it was really believable." You laugh lightheartedly trying to lighten the situation and alleviate the awkwardness that's settled between you two.

"Well it's pretty easy, I didn't need to make up much of it," his eyes catch yours and his gaze is soft when he smiles at you.

"What?" you're confused.

"Never mind," he scoffs lightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks almost disappointed at something, though you can't realise what. "Well, I'll leave you alone now. I really am sorry about what happened before." You watch as he pushes himself up from the couch, his head hanging guiltily - looking almost like a scolded puppy.

"It's fine Franco, really, please don't feel too bad about it." He nods thankfully before slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

Being a driver, hotel rooms had come to be a companion you knew far too familiarly. Their high ceilings, plush sterile white bedsheets, the empty bathroom - almost everything about them felt a sign of loneliness, of temporality, a house that never felt like home. Even though you knew how ridiculous it would be to complain about something that others would see as a privilege, it was hard to deny the isolation you felt whenever in a new country, away from most of your family or friends.

Maybe that's why you had been so eager to latch onto Franco's idea - it made sense, he had become the person you spent the most time with so why not give yourself some ridiculous reason to be around him even more? However somewhere along the way you stopped needing the reason of fake dating, somewhere in between hushed conversations, planned posts and candid photos - and instead found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was a little strange and sometimes acted as a sour reminder of how lonely you'd become but more than anything it felt like a blessing in disguise.

You were reminded of this fact as you lay, wrapped in a plush white hotel robe, across your messy bedsheets - laughing to yourself at the tweets your boyfriend had sent you. They were all about you, or the two of you, of course. Comments on the tiniest things, the way the two of you looked at each other, the way Franco held your hand, the way you worried about him.

"I feel a little bad, they're all so gullible," you typed quickly.

"Oh, so now you feel bad?" His response was almost instant.

"Don't you?"

"It's fun, isn't it? All this playing pretend."

Right, pretend. You rolled onto your back with a deep sigh, staring up at the tall hotel ceiling. All of this was just so confusing - as if figuring out how you felt about someone wasn't difficult enough, the two of you had complicated it by tricking the entire world into thinking you were in love. Whether you truly liked him or not, the idea was doomed for failure - and the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like the former.

"You're right," you typed back, watching intently as the three tiny dots appeared, disappeared then reappeared. What could he be saying that would need so much thinking?

"Can we talk tomorrow, after the race?"

You felt your stomach drop, had he finally caught on to how obvious you were being about how you truly felt, and decided that actually it might be better to just drop this whole act and go on as just teammates? With trembling hands, you typed back.

"Sure, what about?"

"I'll tell you then, for now, we should sleep."

"Goodnight Franco."

"Goodnight mi amor." You laughed softly to yourself at the nickname he had given you, though a small part of you took it as salt to the wound - almost as if he was dangling the possibility of something that could never happen right in front of your desperate little face.

However, not like you had a choice - all you could do now was get ready for bed and brace yourself for whatever tomorrow brought.

You couldn't believe it. The sounds of celebration erupted around you, but you sat completely still in your car, silent, attempting to process what had just happened. Your first win, and, your first double podium, with Franco. Your head was spinning as the never-ending stream of thoughts raced through your mind. Suddenly, you heard a voice coming from above your car's halo, muffled by your helmet. You flick the visor up, lifting your head as highly as you could - locking eyes with your teammate.

"We did it! Oh my god!" The excitement on his face is enough to send a slight surge of energy through you as he offers you his hand, helping you out of the car. When you do though, you stumble a little - the nerves are almost too much for you.

"Woah, you alright?" Even through the fog clouding your mind you can make out the concern in Franco's voice and feel his arms steadying you.

"Yeah, just-" you mumble, gesturing to your helmet and making weak attempts to undo the clasps underneath it. It's almost suffocating you, and the chaos going on around you isn't helping the pounding headache.

"Oh, let me," he reacts immediately, dropping his own helmet and bringing his hands below your chin to swiftly undo the clasps and pull the helmet off of you. You take a deep breath of air as you pull off your fireproof mask, though it sounds more like a desperate gasp.

Around you, the crowds roar with excitement, both your team and others as they make attempts to gesture at the two of you to join them. Your head spins though, and you wobble backwards into Franco.

"It's too loud," is all you can stutter out, though he understands you almost immediately, a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you away from the noise and somewhere quieter. You're not entirely sure where he's taking you but at that moment you feel as though you'd follow him just about anywhere.

Luckily though, when your eyes refocus you're in his driver's room, and even though outside you can hear the cheers continuing, you're offered some solace here, the walls muffling the sound. You sigh, sinking into his couch as you throw your head back, panting still.

You feel like it's all just too much - not just the physicality of the race, but the feeling of winning it, winning it with Franco, just Franco himself. When you finally manage to catch your breath you lift your head to see him standing over you, watching intently.

"Better?"

"Much better, thank you." You smile earnestly, "Though I don't think we'll be able to hide in here much longer, there is a cooldown room for this exact reason."

"Oh, I mentioned it to someone, not sure who but he looked important, and he said it would be okay."

You laugh softly, amazed at how he can seem so calm even at a moment like this.

"We did it," you say, still not being able to believe it.

"We did," he smiles, sitting on the couch next to you, "a couples podium."

You feel your heart skip a beat at the sudden reminder of your conversation last night, him mentioning he had something to tell you. Was this it? The two of you had achieved what you had been wanting this entire time, and there was no better time to let this ridiculous bit go than now.

You stare at the wall of his room, the gigantic flag of his home country, and let out a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to break the silence. "So..."

He turns to you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" You're trying your best to keep your voice lighthearted, "it sounded serious."

"Oh, well about that," he seems to have forgotten it temporarily as well, but the fact that he turns to look at the flag as well, almost unable to maintain eye contact with you, isn't a good sign.

Maybe it's the adrenaline from the race, maybe it's the fact that both of you are going to be needed out on the podium in about ten minutes - or maybe it's the fact that you're so desperate to get out these feelings and make him understand how you feel, but you start talking before you even realise it.

"Look, Franco, I," you start, not entirely sure of where you're going to end up, "I know you asked me to do this whole fake dating thing with you and I completely understand if you want to end it now, I mean why wouldn't we? It's perfect!"

He looks at you confused, lips parted as if about to interrupt you but you continue anyway, stupidly.

"But, look, here's the thing," you turn to him now, and you're sure your face is bright red, "I don't want this to end!"

You let out a deep sigh, and clutch your hands together to stop them from shaking, though it doesn't help that Franco looks even more confused now.

"What?" he says, and your heart drops.

"I," you pause, struggling to find the right words, and struggling to get them out, "I think I like you, like, for real." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words but it'll do.

"Like, not for the whole fake relationship thing?" his tone is still concerned and he leans in a little for clarification.

"Yes! Okay, I know it's not exactly what we thought would happen and it'll probably jeopardise our relationship as teammates but there, I like you okay."

"When did you realise?"

"A couple days ago, I'm sorry."

There's a beat of silence, and you're left with the agonising feeling of your heart racing in your chest, waiting eagerly for his response - for him to laugh in your face, for him to get mad, for him to reject you.

But instead, you watch as Franco's confused expression melts into one of pure relief as he sinks back into the couch with a sigh. "Oh, thank God."

It's your turn to be confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling with the widest smile you've ever seen.

"Wait you mean you-"

"I win!"

You're absolutely speechless, not a single coherent thought on what is going on or how to respond. All you can get out is a confused sort of grunt.

"I win, I've liked you for longer!" he laughs, sitting up and grabbing your hands in his.

You feel as though your jaw is going to dislocate at how fast it drops, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh c'mon, we've been teammates for a year I know you're not that oblivious."

"Well, apparently I am because I'm really confused."

"I've liked you since the moment I met you, you idiot."

"Wh-" You're about to be offended at the name-calling until what he says finally hits you. He likes you. He has liked you. For ages. You idiot.

"Even when you proposed this to me?"

"Yep."

"Even when we went to get ice cream?"

"Yep."

"Even when you kissed me?"

"Y- well wait no that was completely unintentional," he holds his hands out in defence. You slump back, trying your best to process everything today has entailed, it's almost too much. That is until you feel Franco move a little closer to you, his arm stretching around your shoulders and gently moving your head to lay on his. At that moment, it all becomes clear, and you're suddenly unsure about why you ever felt confused about any of this.

"What now?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"We go and get our trophies," even though you're not looking you can hear the smile in his voice. "Though, before then."

You lift your head up off his shoulder to turn to him with raised brows. "Hm?"

"Now that we aren't fake dating, do the rules still apply?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd really like to kiss you right now," he whispers, and there's a hint of nerves as you watch his eyes dart in between yours and your lips.

"Really can't wait can you," you tease, though you still move to close the space in between you to. But just before your lips can touch his there's a knock at the door, causing you both to slump back with a sigh.

"Hey, are you two in there?" it's your race mechanic, "you're needed, you know, on the podium."

You roll your eyes to show your obvious disappointment at being interrupted, though Franco just watches you with an endeared smile.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.

"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you're going to look up on that podium, and how I won't have to pretend not to be in love with you anymore."

Taglist : @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @cinderellawithashoe @vanicogh @taasgirl @claudiajacobs

@dripostsstuff @boiolay @earth-to-lottie @dejavuontrack @dudududu-fangirl

@kravitzwhore @gavisuntiedboot @reiofsuns2001 @musicmie @danielle12002x-blog

@alelo23 @corrodeddeadlydoll @aliwritex @nina-or-anna-or-nora

@5sospenguinqueen @araunahj @sbrn0905 @halleest @lottieliveslife

@lovestruck-sky @im-an-op81-fan @blubra @vienoiserieetc

(don't ask me why it's formatted so weird, tumblr hates me)

[amazinglyashy]

Hi hello!!! I saw tons of your work and I'm very impressed with your skill! If I may, may I request the LaDS Men with Reader who sometimes stare at kids who are having fun with their parents or spending time with each other because Reader doesn't have a good relationship with her family and felt envy to those kids who got to spend time with their parents.

I wanted to know how would they react and do! If my words are confusing, feel free to DM me! Thank you for your time!!

Everyone keeps yelling at me in the tags about me personally attacking them with some of my posts, yet YALL ARE ATTACKING ME WITH PROMPTS AS WELL, POT MEET KETTLE! Thank you so much for this prompt <3 I felt this one personally :'D So I had fun writing it!

LaDS men when you get emotional in public seeing parents and their kids in public

Zayne -

It's… difficult for Zayne to watch.

He knew you when you were both younger, but old enough to know that what was happening to you was… not good. But still too young to do anything about it himself.

It hurts to see you look at families and know exactly what's going through your mind in that moment, but he does his best to quell his own emotions and keep them in check. You don't need to be worried or feeling any kind of guilt for making him feel hurt on your behalf. He wants you to express things in a way that'll help you, without being conscious about how he might be feeling.

Zayne stays quiet though. Sometimes it's good to get you away from the bad thoughts wracking through your mind, he knows that. But other times? You have to process it. You have to get through the painful and the ugly in order to start healing, and you have to do the fighting on your own. Inside your head, where he can't help you.

But out here?

He'll do anything for you.

Anything you ask, anywhere you want to go after you snap out of your envy and thoughts, you can consider it done.

He might not be able to help you- might not be able to stop those feelings of envy and sadness from even entering your mind before they make a home there, even if for a little while-

But he'll help you in any other way he can.

Sylus -

"The people closest to you might be the ones who want to kill you the most."

Sylus keeps so many tabs on you, even prior to your eventful meeting, that he knows good and well what the relationship with your family looks like. And there's more than one reason to why he said this to you, gun in your hand and legs straddling his lap. He may not believe they want to kill you, or may be he does depending on the circumstances, but what he does know is that you're safe with him regardless.

That doesn't solve the whole 'emotions' aspect of it, however.

He'll place a hand on the small of your back, ushering you forward. It's not that he doesn't want you to watch the family, it's just he can see the clouds forming in your eyes, and he'd rather you get emotional somewhere more private, for your own sake. He didn't need you feeling humiliated for getting misty-eyed in public on top of the already complex emotions you were already feeling.

Even if you're not close to tears, it's still better to him to get you away. He wants you to feel safe enough to do so, if your feelings bubbled up unexpectedly and you suddenly needed to cry, he wanted you to be somewhere you could.

And he knows you know you're already with someone you could cry around, as well.

Sometimes, he'll ask about it, just to allow you the space to vent. Oftentimes, he just keeps quiet, letting you process the thoughts going through your mind.

He's right there though, no matter what you may need.

Xavier -

"That looks good, would you like one too?" He'll ask, referencing the ice cream cone the kid is holding, knowing fully well why you're staring.

He has his own generous share of family and parental issues, so he knows how you feel. And after hearing some of your childhood memories, whether they were about your feelings or if he just gathered that information from in between the lines- he can relate to you well.

But... he'd rather not let you dwell too long, if he can help it.

The way he sees it, is you already spent a long time in pain. Years upon years of it, wondering if you would ever get the approval- love, care- from your family that was never going to come. Your own forever waiting and hoping and trying to make a relationship work that was always destined to fail, because the deciding factor on it's success or failure was not on you. It was never on you.

And he doesn't want you to waste more time feeling sorrow over something you've already dug a knife into your gut over, so many times already.

But if you need to- feel what you're feeling, be a little wistful, or even cry- he's here for you. He's here for you no matter what you need.

A shoulder to cry on, a big hug, a favorite movie on the couch later that still reminds you of a time where you chased after affections that were sadly never meant for you- but the happy parts that made you laugh alone in a room raised on a television-

He's got you.

Rafayel -

Rafayel's heard the stories.

Whether it's about your babied little sibling getting a bike after asking once when you spent years begging and saving to buy your own, being treated to the bare minimum of care by your parents, or something more insidious-

Rafayel has heard all of the stories from you by now.

So when he sees you looking abnormally long at a family, when nothing particularly funny is happening- the kid isn't saying something insane, the parents aren't trolling the kid, etc- and he sees your far-away expression, it's like he's pulled up a chair in the recesses of your mind to join you in your melancholy.

It's better than you suffering alone.

"Hey cutie. How's it going?"

He'll ask you after a while, having been with you the whole time, so he knows exactly how it's going. But his words are less out of concern for you and more to snap you out of the daze you're in. He doesn't mind if you feel sad, he's here for you no matter what, but he just doesn't want you to start and spiral.

He knows there's not really anything he can do. It's just a part of you now, the pain of the relationship you'll never get to have, that's nearly there but just an inch away from your fingertips every time you reach for it, no matter how much you try and strain yourself to grasp it. And he knows he can't exactly fill that hole.

But damn if he's not going to be with you throughout every bad thought, bad day, bad experience.

You're stuck with him, and he'll love you through it all.

[shotmrmiller]

ps!ghost is very interested, to put it mildly. can't seem to stop re-watching your debut video that was released a week ago. it's always the same premise. black leather couch casting. nice little bird in a modest dress or shirt and jeans who gets undressed because the "director" has to take in measurements and the like, only to end up getting railed from the back with their pretty face pressed into the cushion.

it's a thing male viewers like. they love to watch a professional break in the new girl. he, though, not so much. he doesn't go for the new girls. doesn't like to be the one to test the limit like others do. (big cock anal on their debut? ghost finds it a bit much.) he hears one tiny gasped ouch and he's not finishing the shoot.

no, what gets him going is the enjoyment one can get during sex. it's why he ended up in this business in the first place. he likes sex. a lot.

likes to have men, women, young and old alike writhing beneath him gasping his (stage) name due to the pleasure and not because a script said to. and the benefits of working in the porn industry means that he gets paid doing what he likes, and can stay safe while doing so.

this is where you come in. the only reason he'd sat down to watch your video at all is because you'd been given a contract by the same company he is under. he's bound to come across you at a later date, might as well learn what he'll be eventually working with.

and he's hooked. whatever initial nervousness you might've had at the very beginning (because this is your very first professional shoot, of course) bleeds from your shoulders once price, the lucky bloke, gets his hands on you. you're a bloody natural.

and you enjoy it. there's no faking the way your nails bite into price's scalp when he licks at your pussy through your thin knickers. you gently wrap your hand around his fingers that's rolling your hardened nipple, giving it a gentle squeeze. he's doing it too rough. you buck your hips into his face, riding it even though you're the one on your back.

ps!ghost has to swallow the mouthful of saliva when he notices strings of creamy white sticking to price's body hair, a frothy ring around the root. the best part of all of this, is that you're giving as good as you take. you're no passive participant. you could, under price's big bulk, just get folded in half and do nothing other than feel the sweet burn of his cock stretch you, turn you inside out.

but you don't. you know exactly what you like and how you like it. you look for your orgasm, make sure it happens under your manicured fingers or price's thick ones. you don't let him be too rough on you nor too gentle.

simon loves it. you're new to this. you could've just accepted what he gave you without so much as a peep of complaint and gone home to soak in an epsom salt bath. but you didn't. you didn't let him pinch your sensitive clit, didn't let him mindlessly claim a fistful of hair.

but you did open your pretty mouth so he could spit in it (fucking lovely, it was) and let him keep your soft hips in the air as john's pace turned frantic and the best of all (in his very biased opinion) you crossed your ankles around his waist to keep him there as he fucked you full of his come.

(had simon been there, he would've begged for a taste if he had to.)

he feels a bit desperate, after. can't get you out of his head. the thought of your slick pussy hot around his cock is what gets him to finish at times. the other times, it's your video. he swears he's found his equal (sorry, soap) one that'll forget that he's supposed to be putting on a show for the viewers.

sorry price, he's about to unfuck him out of your pussy until all it'll ever remember is simon.

(what he doesn't understand is that he's about to forget more than the viewers. why is price watching yall again? it's almost intimate the way you let him fuck you on a creaky mattress. he's drunk on the smell of you, your hair, your cunt. lost all thought when his fat cock slid with relative ease into your wet heat and all he'd done was let you make yourself come on his fingers and tongue as many times as you'd pleased. you'd latched onto his neck, maybe out of habit or whatever, it doesn't matter. he'll be telling the makeup artists to leave the bites you left. he earned every single one. and where he usually pulls out because it's easier to clean up for everyone? you'll not be wasting a single drop. it appears he has a lot bit of a breeding kink.)

[dollgxtz]

That predator x prey fix changed my brain chemistry. MORE PLEASE. Maybe in the woods? Somewhere in the middle of nowhere? I’m begging you, the way you write sylus is exactly how I imagine him 😫

Thrills

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, predator x prey, cnc, hitting, choking, biting, slight injuries, pet names like kitten and sweetie, ends in fluff :3

AN: Back again with another spicy fic for my fellow deviants. I love writing this stuff so much. I hope yall enjoy! Tysm for 5,000 likes btw! I never would have thought people would like my stories this much!

You feel like you’re on the verge of collapsing.

Pushing off from the tall tree you decided to rest on, you start brushing off the dust and grease from the trail mix you were snacking on. Sweat pooled on your face and down your neck, and much to your dismay there wasn’t much breeze today.

“Sylus…are you about ready to go?” You asked, looking ahead at the man that was already 10 steps ahead of you. His long legs were certainly an advantage. You hear him chuckle and turn to meet your gaze.

“Tired already? I thought for a hunter you’d have much more stamina than this sweetie” he teases, making his way back towards you. “Yes, we can go if you’re done”

You had nonchalantly mentioned a few days prior how you felt cooped up in the bright city of Linkon, and had seen pictures of people doing hikes near this camping area. Didn’t really think anything of it until Sylus of course, had bags packed and items prepared for you within a weekend and insisted he was taking you somewhere “quiet”.

This certainly came as a shock. Though you didn’t complain much until now. You were surprisingly good at this hiking stuff, good enough that you felt confident on the more difficult trails that were so remote it was almost impossible to find the trail sometimes.

You scoff at him, rummaging through your bag to find a half empty metal water flask at the bottom. Taking a quick swig, you peer past the bottle to scan the surrounding trees and scenery.

“Say…we didn’t really see anyone on this trail. Kinda strange right?” you ask, sighing with relief as you finished chugging the rest of the cold water. Sylus raises an eyebrow at you, seemingly in thought.

“We are pretty far out. These are the more difficult trails after all” he said nonchalantly, watching curiously as a small smile arose on your face.

“Is that so?” you ask, taking a few steps forward to gaze up at Sylus. Although confused, he takes an arm and wraps it around your waist, listening intently.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”.

“So…no one else uses them?”.

“Hardly ever”.

Oh.

Sylus was certainly no dummy but was unsure what you were getting at. Knowing you well enough though, he could definitely see you were up to something. You lean in closer to him, the smell of his sweat and his bourbon cologne enveloping your senses. Your hands messed with the hem of his t-shirt. A slight blush rose to your cheeks.

“You have something in mind kitten?” he asked coyly, his patience beginning to dwindle a bit. Any longer and he’d definitely get it out of you one way or another.

You hesitated, looking down at his feet. He was more than indulgent into giving you what you asked for in terms of sex, but this might be a little too much. You debated just dropping it.

“No. Say it sweetie” Sylus teased, as if he had just read your mind. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, rendering you a bit helpless. “Or should I see for myself?”

His eye lit up a bit as he said this. You gulped, shaking your head before opening your mouth to speak.

“I was thinking..." Heat rose up your neck, "Maybe we could come back here at night. And maybe you could…hunt me down a little?"

Sylus chuckled, not the least bit surprised you suggested something like this. You begin to pout at his laughter and try to turn away from him, unsuccessfully of course. He immediately ended your small outburst with a quick but deep kiss.

“You never say anything that surprises me kitten” he said, shaking his head in amusement. You yelp a bit as he picks you and your bags up, beginning to carry you bridal style back to the cabin.

“Well, go on then. How does one get you out here, all alone, to hunt you down?”

The night was almost unbearably muggy. The August heat laid down on you with it's full weight, crushing the air from your lungs. The sheets were kicked down to the bottom of the bed, barely hanging on. You wore nothing but bikini-style underwear and a thin, silk camisole, your body was still slick with sweat. The window was open and the fan was on but nothing challenged the summer heat wave.

You were unable sleep. Not fully. You were passing in and out of consciousness in a hot, confusing haze, not ever sure when you were awake, when you were dreaming, and when you were in that weird space between.

When you felt hands on your legs, you were pretty sure you were dreaming. They caressed up your calves to the sensitive backside of your thighs. Another hand tucking the hair out of your face, gently following the curve of your neck, then under and around your shoulders.

You were lifted out of bed by strong arms and a familiar, bourbon like smell. Your eyes started to flutter open.

"Shh, shh. Don’t wake up now…not yet" You nodded in agreement, plunging back down into sleep. A lukewarm breeze on your back stirred you. The sound of a car door opening, then the familiar smell of a pine car freshener. You were being placed in the back seat.

"Sy?" You asked, barely able to muster your voice. You tried to force your eyes open.

Sylus’s tall form leaned over you in the dark. A devilish look darkened his features. Then he was gone from you, and you were asleep once more.

You snapped awake when the car bounced across some deep pot hole. Where were you? How did you get here? The car rolled to a stop as you sat up, your heavy, restless sleep weighing down your limbs.

"Oh, good. I was worried you'd miss the best part."

"The best…part?" You asked, trying to take in your surroundings. Still waking up from slumber, you try your best to rub the blurriness from your vision.

Thick forest surrounded the car on either side. A familiar, faded trail sign loomed over the driver's side. You were confused, and the deep timber of Sylus’s voice was scaring you a little. He was getting out of the car and coming round to the other side when you finally put it together.

He opened the back door, and then his rough hands hauled you out of the seat like you weighed nothing. Your bare feet met rough gravel with sharp discomfort.

"The best part," Sylus said. Then he let you go. You stumbled into the gravel, your legs not quite ready to take your weight. You hit the gravel hard, small rocks biting into the fat of your thighs and your palms.

“Ow-!” you cry, rubbing your hands together to ease the sting. You look back up at him, feeling tears beginning to form in your eyes as you tried to meet his gaze.

He didn't even look at you. He wore a black t-shirt that even in the dark accentuated his muscles. The sleeves were tight around his biceps. It was tucked into black pants, accompanied by those favorite shoes of his. He pulled out a watch from one of his pockets.

"Three minutes," he told you, his voice without a hint of levity. It was almost bored, even.

You didn't move, suddenly shivering in the summer heat. You watched him roll his eyes. His hand found the back of your head and you screamed when he pulled you up to him by the hair. Your hands on his forearms helped. You could feel his muscles there and suddenly felt like he could throw you into a concrete wall if he felt like it.

You remember that Sylus is dangerous. You had no chance against him if he wanted to hurt you. He could do it with ease, even now all it would take is a quick twist of your neck and you’d be gone. You both stare at each other, his expression cold and void of any emotion.

“I suggest you start running” he growled. “My favorite part isn’t any fun if my prey doesn’t fight back a little.”

Your stomach dropped, a jolt of excitement rippling through you as you caught his meaning. He tilted his head, waiting for your response. You nodded, biting the corners of your cheeks to keep from begging him to touch you already.

Then he’s throwing you forward again.

It felt obscenely cruel, like he didn't care if you ate gravel again. You stumbled, but you didn't fall this time, using the momentum to propel yourself into the woods. All your focus turned into trying to “survive”. Your hunter reflexes and skills were certainly helping, as you felt yourself whipping past the trees and growing the distance between you and Sylus.

It wouldn’t last long though.

You could hear the crunch of gravel and sticks beneath his shoes from behind you, clearly in no hurry though. As if he was just taking a nightly stroll.

Your bare feet met the soft dirt at the start of the trail. It was pitch in the woods and you could hardly see anything in front of you, relying entirely on muscle memory. Broken branches scraped against your ankles.

You splashed through the creek you had jumped over earlier, the ice cold water shocking you a bit.

“Shouldn’t you know the trail a little better than that, kitten?," Sylus mocked almost lazily from somewhere behind you.

Fuck.

You wasted no time to think though. You were on solid ground once more, soft dirt and moss bouncing beneath your feet. You kept running until your lungs hurt. Trees scratched up your arms and legs, dirt and mud splattered across your limbs. You lost track of time, not sure how long you'd been running for.

Your lungs began to burn and you had no choice but to finally stop. You attempt to catch your breath and take in your surrounds but you can hardly see anything.

Were you even going the right way? Is this the same trail even?

Trying not to panic, you start jogging forward. Maybe you could find a tall tree or a big rock to hide behind?

Something rustled in the bushes. Your heart pounded, your blood rushed in your ears. You tried to quiet your breathing but your lungs fought for air. The forest was quiet again.

Shit, you were so fucking lost.

You wanted so badly to sit and rest, but you forced yourself forward. The path got more difficult here. You had to use the trees and rocks around you to navigate rough terrain.

The bushes rustled again, this time ahead of you.

You froze to your spot. An animal? Your pursuer? You suddenly were even more terrified, wondering if you were gonna meet an untimely demise by a bear or something.

Then he appeared out of the darkness ahead of you like a tiger emerging from water. It was a smooth transition, his movements liquid and purposeful. It was like he belonged to these woods more than the world outside. How did he get ahead of you?

Twigs snapped beneath his shoes as he made a steady pace towards you. He rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck as he strolled confidently forward.

You turned to run, sprinting into the woods on shaking, tired legs. A scream escaped you as the adrenaline pooled again in your body. Your higher brain, the part that knew this was a game, was having fun. But that deeper core of your being? The part responsible for fight or flight? An integral part of the human core? That part was terrified.

Feeling generous, Sylus let you get a few paces ahead before sprinting after you. In almost no time he caught up to you, his evol wrapping around your ankle, causing you to fall and hit the mossy earth. Sylus wasted no time getting on top of your thrashing body. He wasn’t even panting or out of breath, unlike you, who was struggling to breathe underneath him.

His arms were around your hips, pinning you against his body. His breath was hot in your ear. You squirmed and thrashed as hard as you could, trying to break free of his grasp. The cold and familiar feel of his evol began to snake around you, threatening to hold you in place and trap you under his looming figure.

“Stop!” you screamed, animalistic terror overtaking your body. Your defiant attitude raged forward, refusing to accept your predicament.

“Hush now kitten” Sylus cooed, brushing some hair out of your face. “You did a good job making it as far as you did…but you’re mine now”

Screw you!," you hissed, kicking at his legs, adrenaline moving you harder than you meant to. Your heel found a soft part of his inner thigh. He released you with a hiss.

Oh, shit," you turned to face him, already about to apologize, but froze at the expression on his face. He chuckled, but it was a joyless sound. Then a hand was coming down across your cheek, hard enough to stagger you.

Your ear rang, a heavy stinging sensation burned that side of your face. Heat pooled between your legs. The pain thrilled you. You let out a few choked gasps, the stinging sensation turning into just a slight burn.

Then his hands were on either side of your face. He was gentle, tilting your jaw towards him to examine the damage.

“Behave. I don’t want to bruise your pretty face” he said, his tone a mix of anger yet overwhelmingly concerned. You nod reassuringly, a need of a sudden defiance overcoming you.

“Yknow, for the leader of Onychinus, you hit like a bitch” you spat, a smug expression growing on your face.

He struck you again, hard enough to draw a sound from you somewhere between a wince and a whimper. You swore you saw stars.

"Always fucking testing me" he growled. “Let’s fix that”.

One hand was grabbing you by the hair again, another wrapping around to grab your throat. He squeezed. That sweet, floating feeling. Then release, the blood rushing back.

He did it again, longer, until you felt weightless, until your vision started to blur. Then release, and you crashed down into your body.

He wrestled you down onto the ground. Your fingers dug into his forearms leaving hot, red scratches. You kicked at him, but he was expecting it this time. You really, really tried to fight him off. You put everything you had into it, animalistic protests falling on deaf ears as he was simply much stronger than you. He shoved your face into the damp earth.

“Fuck you," you groaned, your breath stirring the dirt in front of your lips.

“You’re about to sweetie”

You heard his belt, then his zipper. He shifted his body against you and you could hear the shift in fabric as he pulled his pants down. You struggled against him the entire time, and he barely even acknowledged you. Fuck, it turned you on to see how easily he could overpower you. One handed, even.

He pulled your hips up to his, spreading your legs apart with his knee. He leaned over you.

"Do you have any fucking idea," he muttered, his voice fanning a building flame between your legs, "How much restraint it takes to not fucking hurt you?"

His words alone drew a whimper from you. Instinctually, you backed your hips against him, inviting him. You pressed your ass against his cock, feeling it hard and warm. His breath shuddered.

"Can't believe you like this," he muttered, lining himself up with your cunt. "You want to take my cock face down in the dirt. How would the Hunters Association feel if they know they had such a dirty girl protecting Linkon hm?”

You weren't even sure when he got your underwear off, but he found your cunt dripping wet. Of course he did.

He dips a finger in between your folds, and you whimper and shake beneath him. Practically panting, you attempt to push back against the friction.

“Sy…take me, please” you whined, the aching hot feeling in your core beginning to be too much to bare.

“Louder” he said, pushing the head of his cock inside your hole just barely. Even though he’s barely inside of you, the sensation is incredible. You can barely think of a few words much less say them, bliss and pleasure flooding your entire body.

You try and push yourself up against him but he hovered just out of reach.

“Not what I asked for” he said plainly.

“Please Sylus” you begged. “Please fuck me in th-”

You didn't get to finish your sentence. His cock pushed into you in one motion, a loud, gasping moan escaping you. A low growl escaped him, sending a thrill down your spine.

Sylus pulled back, then pushed into you again. Hard. His hands squeezed onto your hips beyond bruising. Fuck, you were sure he could break the bone if he wanted to.

He fucked you hard, both of you a sweating, panting mess. The sounds of his cock slamming into your soaked pussy rang out into the forest, your moans unbridled by fear of bothering any nearby wildlife.

“Ah! Hgn…Sylus, that's too much," you managed through your moans, pain blooming across your body. You squirm a bit but it only makes him grip your body tighter.

"You can handle it," he growled, not even slowing.

His teeth sunk into your shoulder, electricity running through your body. He bit into you like a rabid dog, his breath quick and heavy on your skin. You cry out, unable to do much besides take the brutal pounding Sylus was giving you.

Your legs were shaking against him. The sounds you made were wild, a flurry of unbridled moans and curses. Sylus didn't speak so much as he growled; rough, guttural. A feral animal lost in how good fucking you felt.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm-Sylus, fuck, I'm so..."

He released his bite on you, growling encouragement in your ear. You teetered on the edge for what felt like eternity, your high just building, and building, and building.

His hand buried into your hair again, pulling your face from the dirt. He used your hair to pull you against him, sharp pain rocketing down your back.

It was enough to tip you over the edge. You came hard, shaking and nearly crying with how fucking good it felt.

Three hard thrusts and Sylus was cumming with you, unable to hold back. The familiar warm feeling of his seed shooting inside your walls was exhilarating. The two of you gasped for air, panting and heaving, sweat pouring down the both of you. You lay there on the ground shaking and whimpering like a hurt animal, all your sensations overwhelmed by the animalistic sex that just occurred.

Sylus immediately pulled out of you, leaning back on his ankles. He gathered you up against him, clutching you in his embrace tightly. Neither of you said anything, just panting and holding each other. Eventually you managed to breathe normally, and didn’t feel so adrenaline pumped. You steadily relax in his arms much to his relief.

“Be honest with me” Sylus starts, brushing some tangled hair off of your sweat and dirt covered face. You hum questionably, wondering if something was wrong.

“Was it too much? Are you hurt?”

You let out a snort, much to his surprise. “I mean I am sore…but I’ve fought wanderers who hurt me far worse than that”

This earned you a slight chuckle from Sylus, who began rubbing his fingers on his temple in amusement. “Is that so? Are you saying I need to hurt you better than a wanderer? I can certainly make that happen sweetie”

You immediately shake your head, and Sylus lets out an even louder bit of laughter.

“I-I was kidding!! Don’t you dare-”

“I know sweetie, I would never hurt you that bad. Not even if you asked me to” he said softly, standing up with you in his arms much to your surprise. He helps you straighten out your clothes, offering a steady shoulder while you put your underwear back on, eventually tending to his own. The sun was steadily rising at this point, the peak of the sunset cascading a warm glow over the forest.

You attempt to start walking in the direction of the car but your legs are terribly achy and shake with every step. Sylus leans down in front of you, motioning for you to get on his back. You oblige, happily leaning your head against the back of his neck as he carries you.

“I brought you extra clothes in the car” he says, making careful steps to avoid turbulence for you. You beamed from behind him, feeling giddy all of a sudden.

“You’re so sweet Sylus, it’s cute”

You hear an audible hmph come from him, but it only makes you giggle more.

When the two of you finally made it back to the car, the sun had risen even more, much to Sylus’s displeasure. He helped you take off your dirty and torn clothes, helping put a thin but simple nightdress over your head. After having your face wiped down with baby wipes you relax in the passenger seat, exhaustion finally overwhelming you.

“When we get back, we’ll have a nice shower and dinner before we go to sleep sweetie. How does that sound?” Sylus asked, gazing at you with the softest look you had ever seen from him.

“Best words you’ve ever said to me Sy”

He grinned and started the engine.

[visual-freak]

Saiki Kusuo Headcanons

Note: doing this because I need a way to let these thoughts out of my head

- he’s definitely the type to eat & drink your own food the second you turn your head away and will pretend as if your piece of cake missing a bite wasn’t his doing

- he’ll buy you a new one don’t worry (and proceed to take a bite out of that one too) (yall he literally drank teruhashis smoothie while invisible simply because😭)

- DO NOOOOOT try to engage in PDA with him. He will find and try every way to avoid it at any cost. It creates to much attention towards him.

- he’ll make up to you later in private

- the type to teleport to your room at random times when he “needs your help” with something

- he wanted an excuse to be around you, though if you try and say that to him he’ll leave to try and prove a point. (He’s gonna come back eventually)

- He will stalk you

- this is canon, and if you say otherwise..you’re lying

- he literally stalks his friends all the time in the series to make sure they’re okay. Though he claims it’s because if he doesn’t then it’ll inconvenience him in some way

- but yeah, you’re not at school one day? Using clairvoyance to figure out where you at

- decide to take a walk alone at night for some reason? He’s using invisibility and is lowkey right behind you

- He practically has your entire routine memorized to the beat

-How’d he know you love coming to this corner store afterschool to get this specific snack? Lucky guess🤷🏾‍♀️

- He was most definitely not the one to confess

- how you got him to actually commit to being with you is beyond my abilities as a writer ✋🏾😔

-but he is extremely loyal

-buddy does not play about his partner

- teruhashi? Now he’s definitely working overtime to get her to get OVER him, avoiding her like the black plague

- might even use his annoyed face (jkjk he knows that her minions might actually murder him somehow someway)

- it’s going to take him a LOONG time for him to tell you about his powers.

- like he would need to trust you A TON

-but when you do find out and you’re cool with it, it’s definitely a lot of weight off his shoulders

- someone he can actually talk to about his problems openly

- speaking of his powers he’s not letting kusuke ANYWHERE NEAR YOU

-ABSOLUTELY NOT

- his brother as shown in the series will use anything and ANYONE to get to kusuo just so he can beat him at SOMETHING

-God forbid his brother tries bringing you into his sadistic little game of his, who knows what kusuo will do

- also his parents adore you. Especially his mother

- she invite you over a lot, whether it’s for tea, cooking lessons or a special event

- his grandparents are waiting for your wedding (to kusuo’s displeasure, he’s sick of hearing them saying that)

-there’s been multiple times kusuo will simply just drag you to his room for some privacy or just go somewhere outside the house.

- but that would usually mean bumping into your others nuisances friends.

- which he will ever so slightly lean into your side as a way of telling you he wants to leave

- ok my brain has stopped functioning. Good night and enjoy!

[bluebeary-jay]

clouded judgment / clear mind

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: it was a long time since Joel had felt a maddening rage like this, but he weren't about to let anyone who dares to hurt you get away with it (based on this ask)

Tags: Joel goes apeshit, angst, a bit of comfort at the end, established relationship, protective Joel (REALLY protective lmao), basically he goes feral

Warnings: uh. VERY graphic descriptions of violence (I'm not good at writing action sequences but it is graphic), swearing, kinda torturing 😬

Word count: 4.5K

A/N: this one was really challenging, but i hope yall will like what i came up with :) i really didn't expect it to be so difficult to write buuut i tried to focus on the "giving-his-brother-nightmares" side of Joel and i think i succeeded. anyway !!! happy reading ❤️

He should have never left you alone.

Which was a ridiculous thought, of course, because how are you supposed to patrol efficiently if the other person refuses to leave your side even for a moment? Besides, he didn’t want you to think he didn’t trust you – he saw multiple times what you were capable of first-hand and he knew you were able to take care of yourself.

He put it forward once – to not split up and patrol the same area within the eyeshot of each other. You sent him a crooked smile at that, saying something about him being a little too overprotective before you gave him a kiss and went on your merry way, leaving him alone and slightly annoyed (but with a faint, stupid grin on his face).

So he tried to rein in this ‘overprotectiveness’ you mentioned. He never brought it up again, even though a cold shiver ran up his spine every time he lost sight of you beyond the safe walls of Jackson. Each time you two went on a patrol, he had to take a second to calm down and remind himself this is not one of his dreams when he loses you.

That’s why at first, when he heard your voice screaming his name from a distance, he wasn’t sure if it was really happening.

The instinct, however, kicked in the next second and he rushed back to where he saw you last, to the interior of a resort around which he was scouting. This was supposed to be one of the safest options for patrolling – no one ever saw any signs of life here besides occasional infected, and Joel was never that worried when you went inside alone to check the place.

He had a feeling his cautious (he really didn’t want to call it ‘overprotective’) nature was gonna become a nuisance again after this incident.

The goddamn downpour outside made listening for any noises aggravatingly difficult. Joel yelled for you, but he didn’t hear any answer and the driving rain beating against the windows of the resort absorbed all the sounds.

He made his way inside the building and up the stairs when he noticed your hat lying discarded against the wall. A wave of ice-cold dread washed over him. The stairway was dark but even with the little light he had he could see a couple of wet, almost black droplets on the dirty floor.

What he felt next reminded him of falling asleep – his shoulders relaxed and from head to toe a cool, silent equilibrium crept over him. Joel gripped his rifle firmly and pushed on soundlessly. It didn’t seem like you were stabbed or shot – there would be much more blood present – but you were hurt. Someone must’ve laid in wait to ambush you, and now…

It didn’t matter. Whoever it was, they made a grave mistake.

Joel reached the second floor, listening intently for any clues as to where you might be or how many people are in the building with him, but he didn’t even have to check the rooms one by one. A faint light, which couldn't have been left by the previous patrol, was spilling out from underneath the doors at the far end of the corridor . He did consider the possibility that it was a decoy and your attacker was hiding in one of the other rooms, but the closer he got to the sliver of light on the dusty floor, and the more doors he passed, it became clear that whoever got you, they weren’t that cunning.

And then he heard it. A sound of a blow from the other side of the door, and then a strangled cry.

It was you. Your voice.

Joel took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and kicked the door open, bursting into the room with his rifle held high – only to find himself surrounded by six men, five of whom were holding him at gunpoint.

The sixth one, a ragged-looking blond, stood over you and the second he saw Joel, he grabbed you by the hair and pressed a knife against your neck, making both you and Joel freeze.

“You’re from this town nearby, right?” asked the man with a heavy accent Joel couldn’t place. “The one that fucking shoots off any newcomers.”

Joel didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at this man. All he could see was your bruised and battered face and the blood running freely from your – probably broken – nose and down your chin. You had a black eye and a split brow, but your gaze was sharp and alert when you looked back at him.

He felt like his insides were boiling.

“Hey, dickhead!” the leader of the group yelled, gripping your hair tighter and making you hiss in pain. “You deaf or something?”

Joel finally managed to take his eyes off you – your blood and your bruises, and the concealed fear on your face – and glared at the man standing over you. His jaw was clenched and nostrils flaring, but he quickly collected himself. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him when you were in danger.

He lifted his hands slowly, showing that he was no threat to them. The thug tilted his head at one of his friends.

“Put down your gun and slide it over.”

Joel watched you following his movements with your eyes as he carefully put his rifle down and kicked it in the direction of one of the men. The blond holding the knife nodded twice.

“Now. You two are from the town, aren’tcha?”

“Let her go,” said Joel, trying to remain calm and not use – quoting Ellie – his ‘asshole voice’. “Then we’ll talk.”

The man shook his head and chuckled.

“Oh, no, no.” He pressed the blade harder against your throat. “We have the upper hand here. You understand?”

The man was looking at him expectantly but Joel’s eyes were nailed on the trickle of blood now running down the column of your neck. He remembered kissing that same neck this morning and tickling it with his nose, and the thought of this fucking bastard cutting your soft skin and leaving such a mark on it made him feel like he was about to burst.

“Fine,” he ground out with his jaw set. He looked over at the leader of the group. “What do you want?”

Had any of them been smarter, they would have picked up a dangerous note in his voice. But just like he suspected, they weren’t that bright.

“You go back to your town and bring five more horses here,” said the blond.  “And ammo. My buddy here,” he used his chin to point at another guy, standing behind Joel, “will tell you what kind. You try anything or come back with someone else, and I’ll slit her throat right open.”

“She will go get that shit for you and I will stay,” Joel negotiated strongly, but the leader of the group shook his head again.

“No. No way. You go and bring back everything we ask for, and I’ll let your little friend go.”

Joel’s eyes once again shifted to your form and something inside his chest twitched. You noticed it – of course you did, you were always able to read him like no one else – and tried to offer him a half smile.

“I’ll be fine, Joel,” you reassured him. “Nothing I haven’t–”

“Shut your trap!” The shorter man standing to your right yelled and raised his hand, making you flinch.

Joel could almost feel fire burning in his veins and through his skin, peeling it off his bones.

“Hey! There’s no need for that!” he said louder, taking a step forward, but the gang lifted their guns higher. He stopped and spread his arms wider. “I’ll get you the stuff you want. Just leave her alone.”

“You better hurry, then,” said the blond with a nasty smile, and Joel nodded while trying not to look too desperate. He looked at his friend. “Tell him what we need.”

Joel didn’t give a shit what they were saying – it was him who needed to think of something, and fast. He had a suspicion as to who these men were – he heard from Tommy about a larger group trying to gain entry to Jackson several times. Apparently they threatened the patrol which found them when they were denied permission to join their community. It was before Joel came to the small town for the first time with you and Ellie, but the word around was that any rogue group around this terrains wasn’t to be trusted.

And everything from the description Tommy gave him fit: ragged looks, traveling on foot, low on ammunition.

While one of the men listed what kind of guns they had and how much supplies they wanted, a motion in Joel’s field of vision caught his attention and his eyes darted to you – or more specifically, to your left hand.

You stared right back at him, moving your fingers slightly so the others didn’t notice.

N… O… A… M…

No ammo.

None? That’s probably why the one standing next to you wasn’t holding you at gunpoint but with a knife to the throat. The rest of them must’ve had their pistols drawn just for show. Joel had no idea how you figured it out, but a thought struck him and he surveyed the members of the group. He remembered which one held onto his rifle, but you were armed, too…

As if reading his mind, your fingers started to twitch again the second he looked back at you.

U... Left… B, E, H, I…

Suddenly the man to your right bowed over you again and punched you square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of you.

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled with contempt and glared back at Joel. “No funny games, you hear me? You come back with a gun or anyone else, and I won’t hesitate to fucking kill her, man.”

Joel’s heart was pounding in his chest. All he could see was your face contorted in pain, all he could hear were your coughs and grunts.

Two of the men came forward – the one on his left had a loaded gun from what you managed to convey to him in sign language – and pushed him towards the exit. Joel shifted his icy stare at the man standing next to him, and then at the two situated near you.

They were all going to die.

When he gets back, he’s going to kill every one last of them, and he’s going to enjoy it immensely.

Joel sent you one last look before turning around and slowly walking out of the room with both men close behind, pointing their guns (and only one of them loaded) at him.

It was going to be alright. He had a stirring of a plan and when he comes back, maybe with Tommy or someone else…

You gasped and coughed again behind his back after the sound of another punch.

Joel came to a dead stop, not registering the gun barrel digging into his back, and he felt like his jaw was going to snap if he kept clenching it like that.

You murmured something he didn’t quite catch and Joel turned his head slightly just in time to see the short man kicking you in the ribs and your form lying on the wooden floor, spitting out blood…

“You think you’re so clever, huh? I swear to fucking god, if you pull something like that again…”

Joel didn’t even let the man finish.

In a split second he elbowed the man behind him, grabbing his hand holding the gun – the one they took from you – and shooting the blond standing over you. He fell backwards and the knife fell out of his grip. Taking out the guy Joel grappled with was embarrassingly easy, and once he had a good grip on the pistol belonging to you, he spun around to face the other thug with his gun, standing on the opposite side of the room.

The ragged man fired at him, but Joel didn’t even need to duck, for the bullet missed him by half a meter at least. The man was lying dead soon after, shot twice in the head, and the remaining three took out their weapons, ready for a fight.

None of them reached for Joel’s rifle, lying under their friend’s corpse.

“That’s even better,” he murmured to himself, unloading the gun and throwing it against the far wall.

If looks could kill, they’d already be lying on the ground and writhing in agony. But Joel was more than happy to do it himself. And with his bare hands.

He strode with confidence to the nearest man who swung a machete at him. Joel avoided the attack and pushed him back, quickly darting to the side and decking the other man coming at him.

A sharp pain ripped through his body from the back of his arm when the third thug cut through his clothes. Joel blocked the second strike and twisted the opponent's arm, applying so much pressure that the bone in the forearm snapped and the man’s scream pierced the air.

He lurched back to dodge the machete aimed at his neck and picked up a knife dropped by the previous guy. He surged forward, driving the blade into the thigh of his current attacker, which made the other man lose his balance. Their friend, the last one still unharmed, managed to punch Joel’s jaw, making something crack and reverberate inside his skull, but he only wiped the blood from his face.

When the last thug came closer, Joel used his own momentum and grabbed the back of his skull, bringing the guy's face down onto his own knee. After that his movements were practically automatic when he grabbed the dazed man from behind and broke his neck in a swift motion.

Breathing heavily, he made his way to the first man he knocked out and took your gun from, picking up the machete en route. That son of a bitch wasn’t even conscious, but it didn’t stop Joel from bringing the weapon down and through his head.

The next one was the bastard with the broken arm, but his screams quickly died away when he, too, received a deep and lethal wound from Joel – this time aimed at his chest, almost cutting it open.

Your yelp ripped through the roar of blood in his ears and Joel turned around just in time to see the blond he shot in the shoulder sitting on top of you, trying to stab you with his knife. You managed to dodge it and before that idiot could try again, Joel came up to you both, grabbed the man’s hair and all but threw him off of you and onto the floor.

The blond was still holding the weapon in his hand, but didn’t get another chance to use it – with all his strength Joel brought the heel of his heavy boot down on the injured man's fingers. The man screamed when the satisfying crunch of the bones in his hand breaking echoed throughout the room and Joel couldn't hide a smirk.

He deserved it. All of them deserved it.

He again saw before his eyes the way this motherfucker kicked you and how his friend threatened to cut your throat. Again he saw red.

“You piece of shit,” Joel whispered, still blinded by rage, and gave the man a taste of his own medicine by kicking him in the stomach as hard as he could. The bastard coughed and yelled in pain but it wasn’t enough.

Joel’s focus was sharp and clear when he stood over the battered and bleeding man, staring down at him with hatred. He thought the blond tried to say something – his lips were certainly moving – but he didn’t concern himself with any begging or threats the thug had to offer. Instead he gripped the front of his sweater and punched him in the jaw, letting the limp body fall to the floor and relishing in the sounds of his curses, his grunts of pain, his blood dripping onto the floor…

Not enough.

Joel did that several more times – grabbing the idiot’s clothes, hair, whatever – to pull him up and hit him in the jaw, temple, nose and wherever else his fist landed. The face of the man was bloodied and he was barely conscious at this point and still all Joel could see was the look of sadistic glee on this man's face after finding an excuse to hurt you.

Joel didn’t have much strength anymore, but he ignored the biting pain from the cut on his arm and the raw wounds on his bloody knuckles, and straddled the lying man. The survival instinct must've kicked in and the blond started to tussle, reaching with his not-broken fingers to Joel’s face, scratching his brow and cheek.

And just like the glee he saw in the thug’s eyes earlier, Joel was more than happy that he gave him an excuse – and an idea – how to hurt him more.

“I saw how you looked at her,” he said in a low tone to the unlucky man, holding his left arm in place with his knee and pressing his own thumb to that fucker's swollen eye. “You like hearin’ people screamin’ in pain? Because I just know this is going to bring me great joy.”

Blood was flowing from under Joel’s finger and down his hand when he gouged the blond’s eye out and the man was shrieking. He was writhing and struggling under Joel's weight, and his voice became guttural and hoarse soon after when the dark blood started to flood his mouth. Joel pulled his hand away, panting heavily, and soaked in the suffering of that bastard whose face now resembled a smashed, bloody goo.

Not enough.

It was unfortunate that the blond was the only one left Joel could take it out on, but he couldn’t find any compassion in himself at the moment. So he punched him again, staining the floor with the scumbug's blood.

And again.

And again.

And again.

“Joel.”

Joel turned around sharply, grasping the thug’s knife. He could still feel rage churning inside of him and he was breathing heavily, trying to contain the fury filling him without screaming out loud. His hands were covered in blood – not his – and he subconsciously knew that the man lying motionlessly under him was long since dead, his face completely destroyed, but he wished that son of a bitch was still alive so that he could feel the suffering Joel longed to inflict upon him.

Everything because he hurt you.

You…

The ringing in his ears stopped suddenly and the knife fell out of his hand when he ran up to where you were still lying on the floor. You were curled up on your side with your arms wrapped protectively around your stomach and your face twisted in pain.

Joel’s breathing got quicker, now for an entirely different reason, when he noticed that the cut on your neck was bigger than he originally thought, and still bleeding. Your face was bruised and he knew your whole torso will probably turn green and purple soon, too.

“Oh, babygirl,” he whispered tenderly, his trembling hands hovering above your body, but not touching it. “It’s…” It’s alright, he wanted to say. Or maybe, where does it hurt the most?

He had trouble finding his voice, though. In his fury he completely forgot that you were still here and in need of his help.

You took a deep breath and turned your head ever so slightly to look at him in the corner of your eye. A sad smile appeared on your face.

“Hi, Joel.”

Joel breathed in. Out. In again.

For fuck’s sake, what was he thinking?

He quickly wiped the blood of the people he killed on his pants and cursed at himself mentally.

“Hi, darlin’,” he murmured in response, focusing back on you. “You’re gonna be alright. How are you feeling?”

“I think I might have a broken rib or two,” you breathed while Joel pulled out a clean piece of cloth he carried in his jacket for cases like this one and pressed it against the cut on the side of your neck. You winced and he felt a pang of pain in his own chest.

“Can I check?”

You let go of your stomach with a strangled gasp. Joel started to gently feel your torso, trying to discern if he could feel any broken bones or signs of internal bleeding. He kept his touch as delicate as he could, not wanting to hurt you even more, or worse – scare you.

He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking, though, no matter how much he tried to calm his breathing. He wished he could hold you as securely as he held his gun, with a quiet heart and sharp focus, but the fear of accidentally hurting you made his fingertips recoil at times.

Although you two knew each other for years now, you were never a witness to this cruel side of him. You knew about it, of course, of horrible things he’s done before he got to Boston and met you. A couple of times you even saw with your own eyes snippets of these primary emotions of fear or anger overtaking Joel’s mind and body.

But never like that. Never with such ferocity, hatred and satisfaction from hurting those who did the same to you.

He just really didn’t want you to be afraid of him. You were so precious to him and often he thought those brutal hands of his, which he knew were guilty of inflicting unimaginable pain and suffering, weren't worthy of touching someone who in his eyes was so delicate and pure.

But it never stopped you from seeking his touch, and although Joel could be stubborn and tough at times, he didn’t have it in himself to ever refuse you anything – even when he knew better.

That was always the case. His judgment and mind were clouded when it came to you.

“I don’t think anythin’ is broken,” he finally said in a quiet voice, cupping your cheek gingerly and turning your head to look at it better. “But the nose probably is. How did it happen?”

“They jumped out on me in the hallway,” you answered, not meeting his eyes while he gently touched the base of your nose. Then you looked to the window against which the still pouring rain was beating. “One of them punched me when I shouted for you. I thought you might have not heard me.”

“I heard you,” he murmured and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You came for me pretty quickly, so–”

“Not that. M’sorry you had to see… this.”

To that, you didn't say anything. Joel felt his heart clenching on itself and almost stopping from the wave of terror that washed over him.

His treacherous mind was rushing him to defend his actions or make excuses – because if he doesn’t, if it turns out you’re scared of him and the things he’s capable of…

You might leave him. And if you leave, Joel won’t survive that.

But he didn’t give in to those cruel thoughts and silenced the voice in his head.

“I’d do it again,” he said quietly, making you lift your head. “In a heartbeat. I’m really sorry you had to see that, darlin’, but I… just know I’d never hurt you. And if I can help it, no one else will either.”

“Hey.” Your knuckles brushed his cheek and you looked at him with sad eyes. “You don’t need to explain yourself. I know you did it to protect me.”

“I wanted them to suffer,” he continued as if you didn’t say anything, but at the same time he soaked in the feeling of your soft touch on his face. “I don’t know how much you saw–”

“Joel.” You sat up with a wince after interrupting him, and your gaze turned sharp. “Why are you telling me this?”

Even though the bloody, battered mess that he made of the blond man seemed to push itself into Joel’s field of vision, he refused to look away from you.

“‘Cause you need to know. I feel like I’d be lyin’ to you if I didn’t explain that it wasn’t an accident or a one-time thing,” he answered, his eyes flickering from your neck to your face, and down to his own stained hands. “Couldn’t think of anythin’ else after I saw you like that, on the ground and…”

“Listen to me.” You took his head firmly in your hands and your gaze was unwavering – like you wanted to make sure that your every word will reach the depths of his soul. “I’ll say it again: you don’t need to explain. I get why you did that. And don’t even think you’re gonna drive me away because of that.”

You knew him too well. Sometimes it was slightly annoying, sometimes even scary.

This time, however, it felt reassuring.

You looked to the side where the body of his last victim lay, and Joel grimaced, gently touching the edge of your jaw and tilting it back to him. “Don’t look,” he whispered, realizing with surprise, as well as a horrible lump in his throat, that he felt almost ashamed.

Your bright eyes met his again and he briefly wondered if your gaze always was so scrutinizing.

“I’m not scared of you,” you said sternly, like always knowing what was going on in his head. “I'm not, so stop thinking that.” You shook him by the arm a little and when he didn’t answer, the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a teasing manner. “I’ve seen you multiple times in the morning. I know you’re secretly a big softie.”

Joel really didn’t deserve this kind of kindness and understanding from you. That didn’t stop him from craving it, though.

He didn't say anything – just leaned in and kissed your cheek tenderly, lingering there for a moment but paying attention not to brush your nose. You exhaled and closed your eyes, your eyelashes tickling his skin, and he decided not to drag this conversation on any longer.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart. I’ll help you up.”

He stood up and held out his hand. It was rough and covered in blood, but even after you saw what he did to those men and heard their screams, you didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Joel,” you said gravely after standing up. There was no trace of your previous smile on your face. “If you were the one in danger, I’d do the same thing.”

You were looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer, and after a couple of seconds he nodded slightly. Apparently it was good enough for you, because you just squeezed his hand and tugged him after you and out of the room.

Joel didn’t know if he believed you.

But your words made him feel calmer and cleared his clouded mind nonetheless.

[samkerrworshipper]

las 15.

mapi leon x reader, alexia putellas x reader (platonic)

warnings: the spanish federation ick

erm look at me posting something 😮 anyways enjoy haha i kinda hate it but need to feed yall somehow

“You need to be aware of the consequences of what could happen if you sign this document.”

You stared down at the mahogany surface of your lawyers desk, it was dark, sanded, smooth and shiny. Contemporary, but it also looked old, like a heirloom. It distracted your from the non stop drawl.

“I don’t care, I’m signing it.”

Your eyes travelled along the surface, lookinbg at the different waves of wood and the way that the dark colours marbled together.

“The RFEF could come for you, they could try and take your license. You might not compete at the world cup, the press will come for you, Vilda will come for you, Barca could reduce your playing time, it could be the end of your career. There are other negatives.”

You’ve thought about all of them of course, how could you not?

“I’ve already said it, I don’t care. Let them come for me, let them do whatever they want. I am done with it all. Fourteen other players have signed it, no? I will be the fifteenth and that is final.”

You weren’t a big fan of your lawyer, he was old and money oriented. He also didn’t have your best interest in mind, his sole focus was earning you as much money as possible, which had been fine up until today.

“So what? You plan to be the best in the world and never play international football again? This will ruin your career, it will put an end to the Ballon D’or campaign, it will change things for you, you can’t just do this because your girlfriend does it as well, this will be detrimental for you.”

The wood grooved at the edges, flattening out and curving so the edges weren’t too sharp.

“I refuse to stand by and submit myself to abuse. That’s what happens every time I go to that place, every time I go to camp I submit myself to abuse, torture, horrific conditions. The fact that you would even dare imply that I would do this for anybody but myself is preposterous. I am better than the condition I am being subkmitted to, I deserve better than to be objectified and treated as if I am dirt on that man’s shoe and I refuse to be treated as such. I have standards for myself and the people around me and I refuse to live by these for much longer. I’ll draft up the letter, I’ll send it to you for editing purposes and once your done you will send it to the RFEF, consequences be damned. You should be glad that I lasted two more windows then everyone else, honestly I’m ashamed that I didn’t do this earlier, but I’m ready to take a stand with everybody else now. I don’t want to play in a World Cup if it means this is how I will live my life.”

You looked up at your lawyer, hoping the fire burning in your soul was reflective in your eyes.

“This is a bad decision, you are thinking with your heart and not your head, this is unlike you.”

You pulled your eyes from the mahogany, standing up from your seat slowly.

“No, I’m thinking with my own interests, not yours, not my managers, not my bank accounts. I’m thinking with my mental health, my emotional health and my physical health. For the first time in my life I am taking time to focus on myself, so tyeah maybe it’s unlike me, but I’d like to think this might be the a better version of me, I’ll email you my letter, all you havr to do is forward it, if it’s such a struggle don’t even bother reading it, I don’t care what you have to say, I’m legally obligated to make you aware of any contractual issues so here I am. Give a fuck, don’t give a fuck, it doesn’t change anything for me, I’ve made my decision and nothing or nobody will make me change my mind.”

You didn’t wait around to hear what he planned to say in rebuttal, exiting the stuffy office as quickly as your legs would allow.

You made it to your car before you felt the tears flooding down your face. Even now, even after you’d tried to speak out you still felt like you were being silenced, like nothing had changed. That’s why you were doing what you were doing, why you knew this was what you needed to do. It didn’t make it any easier though, knowing that no matter what choices you made, even if they were for the good of you there were still going to be people around you who condemned them.

You were supposed to be at training, but you’d taken the day of to finalise all this bullshit. It was frustrating, knowing that the choices you were making for the good of yourself could end up being harmful to your career in a multitude of ways, it was all so fucking hard.

Everybody was at training, and yet here you were balling your eyes out in the carpark of your stupid fucking lawyers office.

If you hadn’t hit rock bottom at the last camp, the this was it, this was your final straw.

It was all too much, you’d been holding out for too long, but the mixture of the other 14 girls refusing to come back and Alexia’s injury had been enough of a motivation for Vilda to try and ruin your life. It had started with extra training after your sessions, then sessions in the mornings, then separating you from the rest of the team, limiting your diet, gym sessions, changing your schedules to everybody elses, punishing you for nothing, treating you like you were a slave to the Spanish Women’s team.

You were the best midfielder they had, excluding Alexia, and she was hurt, you were the scapegoat for the team, you were responsible for the wins and the reason for the losses.

You knew that with your leave, somebody else would end up taking your role, probably Aitana who was far to young to deal with that kind of pain, and you felt bad, you felt more guilty than you thought possible, but you couldnt do it for any longer, you couldn’t act like it wasn’t killing you on the inside for every second that you spent away with those people.

You hated it, you hated feeling like nothing, you hated feeling worthless, you hated living your life like it was pointless, you couldn’t do it for any longer, not when you were giving up every single part of yourself to keep yourself together.

You couldn’t stay how you were, crying in the drivers seat of your car milling over the memories of your last camp, you needed to leave, needed to go somewhere, needed to talk somebody.

Before you really knew what you were doing you’d started driving, letting the tears drip onto your lap and the steering wheel as you frantically drove your way through the city.

You couldn’t be alone, but you also couldn’t handle all the eyes of your teammates, so you drove to the one other place that you could think of where you hoped somebody would be.

You tried your hardest to wipe the tears from your face, but they kept falling, the sleeve of your shirt getting damper by the second as you tried to wipe up the evidence of your breakdown. It was useless, and eventually you gave up, stepping out of your car and ducking your head as you walked towards the lift and navigated your way through the apartment building.

The person you were looking for didn’t answer the door, instead you were put face to face with Olga.

“Hola chica, Ale didn’t tell me she was expecting visitors.”

You bit down on your lip, tapping your foot against the floor as you peeked around Olga, searching for the person you were seeking out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell her, I can go home, I know she’s been busy with her rehab, I don’t even know how I ended up here.”

Olga tugged at your arm before you could spit anything else out, tugging you through the door and closing it from behind you.

“Nonsense chica, you’re very welcome here, Alexia is sitting out on the balcony doing her exercises, she’ll be more than happy to have your company, just head on through, your always welcome here.”

You nodded at Olga, smiling at her as much as you could with your lip still stuck between your teeth.

“Thank you, thank you so much, I really appreciate.”

You tried to ignore the tears that were still dripping down your face, it didn’t feel like you were crying, even though you were, it more felt like you were shedding a layer of yourself, the layer that was holding all of the trauma that you’d been holding in, like it was your way of getting rid of it all.

Alexia’s apartment was meticulously clean as ever, but you spotted her out in the sun easily.

She was standing outside, in a pose similar to ones you did in your yoga sessions.

She looked at peace, like she was calm, like she was serene, the complete polar opposite to how you felt and you really didn’t want to burden her with your problems, but you were here now anyways.

You tiptoed over to the glass sliding door, pushing it open, causing Alexia’s head to peak up at you. She looks at you with curiosity, but doesn;t move, instead her head nods you towards one of the outdoor lounges beside her, which you beeline for.

She stays in her position as she addresses you.

“The appointment with your lawyer didn’t go well then?”

You did a double take as you stared at Alexia, shocked at the information she’d somehow managed to obtain.

“You don’t take me for a idiota do you? Mapi told me you had a appointment you were keeping quiet about this morning, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out who it must have been with, considering recent events. Although your girlfriend wasn’t smart enough to work it out herself.”

Alexia stayed in her stretch, looking at you as if to prompt you to tell her more.

“Yes, I had a appointment with my lawyer, Alexia.”

Alexia smirked to herself, she was one of the most obersvanet people you knew, nothing got by her, you weren’t all that surprised to find out that this hadn’t.

“You’ll be joining the group then?”

You hadn’t really comes to terms with it, let alone saying it out loud.

“That’s the plan, should be official by tomorrow.”

Tears were still dripping down your face, you couldn’t find yourself caring though.

“Good for you. You deserve better, we all deserve better, may we all hopefully make a change.”

Alexia wasn’t officially a part of the movement, but she was everyway besides a signature as equally involved as everybody else.

“It just feels like i’m letting the team down, that I’m letting everyone down.”

Alexia nodded at you, finally coming out of her stretch and walking over to sit down next to you.

“You’re doing what’s good for you chica, your doing something that is going to make you happier, that is going to make your life better. Nobody else matters beyond that, trust me.”

Alexia looked at you, like she was genuinely struggling to help you out in the moment. She had been your mentor at Barca for forever, you seeked out her advice more than anybody elses, especially in this moment.

“I don’t know how to do it anymore, it’s like he was trying to ruin my fucking life, like his whole purpose for everyday was to make my life a living hell, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t walk around camp acting like it was fine, I couldn’t smile at cameras and talk to the press and tell them about how great I was feeling when it was all lies, all I wanted to do was leave, or sleep, or die, all because of his and his staff. They were hardly feeding me, hardly letting me sleep, hardly giving me a break and expecting me to perform at the same level as everybody else, if not better. I just couldn’t do it anymore Ale, it was too much.”

Alexia’s arm placed itself on your knee, squeezing your covered skin.

“You shouldn’t have to, you needed to leave and you did, you made the right decision chica, you made a impossible decision that will make your life 100 times easier, it doesn’t make you weak, it makes you so incredibly brave for being able to identify that you were being treated wrongly and that you needed to remove yourself from that space.”

The tears kept falling, your pants were slowly becoming soaked with the raw emotion.

“Mapi did it because of the abuse, because she had a legitimate reason, I’m leaving because they worked me a little bit harder than everybody else, it feels like I’m overreacting.”

You could feel Alexia rolling her eyes from beside you.

“Really? Has Mapi told you that?”

Mapi had told you that you deserved the world, you deserved everything you wanted, you deserved to be treated like a queen, not how the RFEF was treating you. She’d told you the decision was yours, that she would support you no matter what you did, but she’d also told you that after every camp you came back with a little bit less of yourself, that Vilda was stripping parts of you away to use at his mercy.

“It’s not the same thing, Patri, Pina, Mapi, they all have good reasons, they’ve all been hurt, Vilda is just trying to make me better, trying to make me worthy.”

Alexia’s hand squeezed tighter.

“You’re lying to yourself and you know it. As long as he is in charge, you aren’t going to get treated how you deserve, none of us are. We’ve all paid our dues, yet they don’t give a shit, they break us all down until we’ve got nothing left to give. They broke me down until I did my acl, if you hadn’t of left they would have done the same to you. It’s nonstop, even if it isn’t the same kind of abuse as Mapi, it’s still abuse, they still rip out every part of you in the process. Each time you come back you have less of yourself to offer, but they keep taking, and taking, they make us feel nothing. It’s a waste, it’s a waste of the wonderful life we’ve all been gifted. We deserve to be happy, we deserve to be free of the pain.”

You nodded your head, you’d been avoiding telling Mapi about all of this. You were conscious that she was still working through a lot of her own trauma, and you didn’t want to reopen scars that were only just beginning to heal.

“I don’t know what to do Ale, I sign the papers, I write the letters and I’m taking a stand, I’m trying to make a change. I stay, I wreck it all, but I keep my career. It feels like I’m at a crossroads with myself, and I can’t talk about it weith Maps because god forbid shes already been through enough with her own struggle through it all, she doesn’t need me on top of that.”

Alexia stood back up, getting back onto her mat and pushing herself into another stretch, all whilst she maintained eye contact with you.

“Mapi’s talked to you about her struggles, si? She’s burdening you with her own problems, yet it doesn’t feel that way, because you love her and you’d do anything to make her pain less. I guarantee she’d feel the exact same way. You’ve been through a lot, none of us will ever be able to completely comprehend what you’ve been through, but if you started talking to your loved ones about it we’d be able to support you better. Or a therapist, I know Barca has been giving you sessions, but I mean a real psychologist, not just a person who tells you that you need a day off. You need somebody to help you, to actually make you feel like you deserve better than how they treated you, because I know that you know that but I don’t think you really believe it.”

The tears were slowly coming to a standstill, slipping less frequently down your face as Alexia talked to you.

“I don’t want to make her hurt any more than she already has.”

Alexia just looked at you, with that double eyebrow raise and little crinkle in her forehead.

“If you think that Maria wouldn’t do anything for you, even if it meant sucking every single inch of pain from your body and putting it into hers, she would do it and she would do it with a smile on her face. Her whole world, her whole solar system revolves around you and she’d want you to talk to her about this. She knows better than anybody else what you’re experiencing, she’s literally been where you are, so why not talk to her about it?”

It was true, for as long as Mapi and you had been together she’d tried to fix every single thing, she would do anything to make you feel better, this didn’t feel the same though.

“She deserves to live in a world where Vilda, where the RFEF, don’t affect her anymore. She signed the petition, she’s cleaned her hands of it all, and I should have done it with her, but I didn’t. I chose to keep playing for the benefit of my career, because I was greedy and decided that a Ballon D’or and any kind of accolade I was a shot at was more important then taking a stand and I hate it. I hate that now that I’ve won things that suddenly it’s all hit me that I don’t like what’s been happening, and I don’t want to support it. Mapi doesn’t deserve to go through it a second time, all because I was greedy.”

Alexia switched sides on her stretch, the sun was radiating off of her olive skin and her blonde hair, she looked ethereal.

“Have you told her anything about it?”

Alexia was frowning, like she was shocked by your actions.

“She knows that I was struggling at camp, she told me I was welcome to talk to her. After the last one she knew something had changed, she told me she was worried and I shook her off, because I thought she was being overprotective, but she was right, she had reason to be worried, I wasn’t okay. I’m not okay, i don’t know how to process it all.”

Alexia nodded.

“Go home, tell her what’s happening, see what she says, I think it’ll be a lot better than whatever you’ve thought up. Mapi has been my bestfriend for years, she’s dated my sister, she’s dated my friends and I can confidently tell you that she loves you more than any of them, you’re her do or die, all she’ll want to do is support you, please just go and talk to her.”

Alexia looked at you with such conviction and honesty that you couldn’t find it in you to try and fight her on the topic.

“Thank you Ale, I needed this, I needed to talk to somebody, needed to feel less crazy.”

Alexia did one last stretch before standing up, pulling you into a tight hug before you could pull away.

“You’re not crazy chica, you’re going through a very real, very hard time, and you deserve to have the people around you show you how much they love you.”

Alexia let go of you, shoving you back towards the door.

“Go talk to your girl, and sign those papers, and be happy, enjoy life, enjoy peace. You deserve it, chica.”

You nodded into Alexia’s shoulder, letting go of her and slipping back into her apartment, leaving her to get back to her stretching.

You shivered when you spotted Mapi’s car already parked in her spot. You knew you’d be cutting it close with getting home earlier then her, but you’d held a silent hope that you would be the first home. You hesitated to exit your car, scared of what the inside of your apartment held. You weren’t scared so much, more a little bit tentative of the conversation that you were about to have, knowing that it could majorly impact your relationship. In your heart, you knew that Mapi would love you no matter what, but it didn’t calm the nerves inside of you as you pulled your keys from the ignition, pulled out the papers that your lawyer had given you and exited your car.

The whole walk from your car, to the elevator and then down the hallway to your apartment had your heart thrumming inside of your chest. Your hands were quite literally shaking as you pushed your key into the door.

You toed your shoes off at the door, slotting them down beside the door before slowly walking your way through the entrance. It wasn’t hard to find Mapi, she was right in front of you, sitting down at the island bench, patting Bagheera and eating a post training salad. You knew that there was one meant for you still sitting on the shelf of your fridge, from when the two of you had meal planned yesterday. She looked so undisturbed, with the afternoon light coming in through the gaps in the blinds and the general silence that you were about to break.

You announce yourself by slinging your bag down against the wall, a loud enough noise that seems to wake Mapi from her happy daze.

She smiles as soon as her eyes set on you and it only makes the weight in your gut feel ten times heavier and the pain in your heart ten times worse.

You wanted to turn around and walk right back out the door you’d just walked through, but you couldn’t, not with the way that Mapi looked at you, like her whole day had been made by your appearance.

“Hola bebita, how was your meeting?”

Mapi’s smiling ear to ear, quite literally, you swear you can see every single one of her teeth. It had hurt you to lie to Mapi about where you were going today, telling her that you’d had a crucial appointment with your manager about some media things, it wasn’t a direct lie. You had met with your manager, instead of it being positive though, it had been quite the opposite.

You didn’t have any words to reiterate to Mapi, so instead you just picked up the papers that were tucked away in your hands and placed them down on the island infront of her.

Mapi looked at you with confusion for a few seconds.

“Just read them, you’ll understand it more once you have.”

Mapi didn’t hesitate, picking up the first piece of paper and scanning over it, before moving onto the second, then the third and so on, till she’d made it through the entire stack.

You stood anxiously on your toes the whole time, balancing from one foot to the other as you contemplated how Mapi was going to reply to this sudden change.

When she did finish, she looked up at you, a lot of questions hidden behind her curious eyes.

“I’m resigning, or requesting they don’t call me up. I don’t want to play for a federation that doesn’t care about me. I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier, but I wasn’t ready and I’m sorry I’m bother you with it now but I’m also sorry I didn’t tell you about it earlier, I met with my lawyer for the first time today to sign the documents and write my statement. If it all goes to plan then they should be out in the next week. I don’t want to do it anymore, I can’t do it anymore, I’m sorry.”

Mapi blinked a few times, like you’d just blindsided her completely, and you figured you had.

“I didn’t even really know it was happening until after last camp, and I just realised that I was so exhausted and so tired and so sick of it all that I couldn’t do it again. I should have done it earlier, I should have been a part of it all from the start but I was scared and I still am scared Maps. This is supposed to be my job, I’m supposed to be grateful for the opportunities I’m given and yet I feel like I’m a fraud and I’m lying when I say that because I’m not grateful and I’m not happy and I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t. I’ve been praying every night that I get injured, so that I get a break like Ale, and I don’t want to feel like that anymore.”

Mapi just stood up and pulled you into her arms, silencing the rambling and making you realise that you were now crying again.

She slowly led you towards the couch, bringing you into her arms as you tried to take control of yourself.

It felt like every piece of anguish, every piece of fear, every piece of internal hatred was slowly being pulled from your body and it felt so good, like you were somehow being healed.

Mapi wiated until you were coherent enough, until you felt more resurfaced, and less like the bloodn was rushing through your ears and every though of self-doubt was spirally through the different ridges of your brain.

“Princesa, you’ve made this decision for you, si? Not because of me, not because of anybody else, because you believe this is best for you?”

You nodded into her chest, enjoying the feeling of your own skin pressed directly to hers.

“I’m sick of them making me feel this way Maps, I don’t like it, I don’t think it’s right.”

Mapi’s body was surrounding you, her scent, her feel, her everything, and it was all you’d needed today, everything that Alexia had assured you would make you feel better.

Mapi’s salad was forgotten on the counter.

Bagheera was somewhere else.

It was just the two of you, just the two of you to face everything.

“We’re put into boxes, as women, men try to make us be everything and yet nothing. It’s not right, we’re expected to be as good as the men, but we have to behave eloquently, say our pleases and thank yous and never be ungrateful for the piss poor conditions we put up with. We’re supposed to be passionate, but we’re not allowed to over react in any way. We can only underperform, not overperform. There are no expectations for us, because we’re women and we’re supposed to be worse than the men, but they’re are also so many expectations for us to meet. It’s okay for you to be done with that, there is nothing wrong with you saying no to constantly being abused. You’re not a fraud bebita and I’m here for you no matter what. You’re my girlfriend first, a person second and a soccer player last. It doesn’t matter, none of it matters, you matter, you’re feelings and how you feel is what matters.”

Mapi’s hand pulled your head from her neck, her lips connecting with your forehead with ease.

“I’m not doing it anymore Maps. I want to be strong, I want to say no. I want to be a part of the right side of history. I don’t want to sit around pretending everything’s fine when it’s not fine. It’s nowhere near fine and until there is a change it won’t be.”

Mapi nodded, pressing a series of kisses to your forehead.

“Then we’ll work it out, you’ll keep me in the loop and we’ll figure it out together, no more hiding these big feelings from me. We’ll go and see our therapists and take soe time off and do whatever you need to feel safe and happy, because what matters is you, nobody else, si?”

You nodded your head once again, enjoying the same smile that her face was covered in. her lips migrated down to your cheeks, pressing kisses to the rosiest parts, pushing the tears away.

“I’ve got you bebita, we’ve got each other, we’re going to be fine, we all are.”

[torubeth]

aren’t you going to write “degradation taken too far” but with satoru? 🫦😰😭

you asked for it babe; i didn’t wanna hurt yall gojo girlies (inc myself) but you want pain? ok. pain is what you get. warnings : (mature content 18+) smut, degradation, gojo being mean (yes it’s a warning), angst to comfort??and maybe have a tissue box or two????

‘look at the gorgeous mess that you are baby. never knew you’d fold this easy’ he remarks, lips trailing down your body, sucking violet coloured hickeys along the way.

‘satoru- i already told you that the last time, will be the last time! so why are you-!’ slowly but gently he slides in, a wave of contentment washing over you, immediately shutting you up.

‘hmm what was that? mind repeating it f’me sweetheart?’ he smirks.

you decided to stay quiet because what’s the use? you’re gonna end up with him on top you again. mostly tomorrow. and the day after that.

and that’s when you realise that the pace was starting to pick up and his hands were now on your clit, rubbing hard circles eliciting nothing but moans and whines from you.

‘satoru oh my god! shit, feel so good i feel like i’m gonna cum!’ you reach up to slither your arms around his shoulders, your breathy pants now right by ear.

‘toru agh! fuck fuck- i…i love you satoru, i love you so much! please, if you keep this up i might-’ suddenly with a roughness unknown to you, he pulls out.

‘wait wait wait, why’d you stop? i was so close-!’ you pant, leaning up on your elbows.

instantly, there was a shift in his aura.

‘love? you said love? what makes you think i will ever love someone like you? you’re just a hole to fuck. a passing cloud. something for me to do when i’m bored of my fucked up life. nothing more’ he erupts.

‘what?’ your voice was reduced to nothing but a whisper.

‘where in the wide wide vicinity of your fantasy land did you come up with ‘love’ ?’ he spat.

‘i mean seriously, you thought this was something-‘ he knew what he was saying was far from the truth.

why would he not love you? what is there not to love? if he knew what love meant, it’s because of you.

but you shouldn’t love him, but you do. why? why do you wanna be with him? why do you wanna be tied down to someone like him?

meanwhile your mind is racing with a million different thoughts, not knowing what or how to respond.

‘it’s best if you just leave’ he finishes.

you didn’t need to hear the entirety of his speech to know that you were…disposable? replaceable?

the dam breaks and tears stream down your cheeks, eyes red and body trembling. you gather of what’s left of your heart and face him ‘this really is the last time’ you whisper, meaning every word, clutching hard at the sheets for some kind of comfort, without breaking the eye contact.

that’s when his eyes look at you.

your eyes. god, your eyes. they were one of the reasons he fell in love with you. they were fierce, beautiful and always on him. but now they were broken, filled with pain and tears, still beautiful and held nothing but ache.

next was your lips he loved kissing so much. his personal favourite, was always ready to put him in his place and bring him to his knees. now they were trembling. in hate, or fear? he thinks he doesn’t really wanna know the reason behind that.

taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves because there was no going back now. the cat and mouse chase ends here.

suddenly, a huge wave of warmth enveloped you and it took you mere two seconds to realise that he was hugging you, and hardly a second for you to come to the realisation that you would never push him away.

‘i want you to know that you mean so much to me. a while ago my world was nothing but dark, but you came painted it all, giving meaning to each and every little thing in it. i deserve to rot in hell cuz fuck, i didn’t mean a word of what came out of my mouth’ and that’s when you felt little drops on your neck.

never once has he cried in front of you, always going on about how ‘the strongest never cry’

‘you mean the world to me baby. when you told me you loved me, i was brain dead. never knew i was capable of being loved by someone like you. i mean, why would you love someone like me? all my versions are nothing but a wretched mess, so why would you-?’

pulling back to look at him, your eyes are stern when you tell him-

‘you are actually an idiot if you think i care about any of that’ wiping away his tears, your hands rest against his cheeks.

‘i want all your versions satoru. flaws and all. i want them to course through my veins. i want you in all my mornings and all my nights. i want you everywhere. and if you’re going down, i’m willing to go down with you. so please, please don’t push me away’ you said because loving him was as easy as breathing, your eyes once again starting to tear up.

and that was the confirmation he needed, as he leaned down ‘i love you, i love you so much. i fucking love you’ chanting over and over again. pressing kisses everywhere. your nose, lips, cheeks, forehead, everywhere.

‘i adore you and i promise to cherish you like you deserve till we’re old and wrinkly’ he bumps his nose against yours, earning a small laugh from you.

‘i know you will satoru’ you whisper, bumping his nose in return ‘i will love you till we’re old wrinkly too’

[sturnihoelo]

Off Screen

summary: chris and his brothers are live streaming them playing video games, but you are getting impatient.

*a text from matt*

going live in 10 minutes. hop on the game.

“ok yall ready?” “yeah” “chris?” “uh yeah im ready”

*matt starts stream*

me and chris discussed where i would be while they stream since im chris’ secret. his face cam doesnt show his bed so thats where i planned to stay. but he looked too damn good playing that game.

im laying on his side of the bed in an oversized shirt (its basically a dress) and a black lace thong. i watched him for about 30 minutes before i lost control. as chris got more into the game, the more needy i got. his grunts and aggressive tapping drove me crazy. he would look back at me every so often to make sure i was okay. *chris mutes and turns around* “u okay baby?” “fine.” i say in a whiney tone. my hand finds its way down to my throbbing heat. i start rubbing slow circles on my swollen clit. i was trying so hard not to moan or make a sound. i do NOT want chris to find out i was touching myself to him playing games with his brothers, live for thousands of people to see.

chris looks back at me and motions for me to come sit next to him out of frame. i get up and pull up a chair that was across the room. i stop and admire how good he looks while the light from the computer screen lights up his face in the dark room. i place the chair down and sit. chris looks me up and down and bites his lip. he places a hand on my thigh, and i squirm. *he mutes again* “you sure ur alright?” i just nod. he smirks and goes back to the game.

i stare at his hands on the keyboard. clicking aggressively. i get lost in my head and just imagine his fingers inside of me and all of the things he could do to me. i get up and walk to the kitchen to get a drink of water to clear my mind. i didnt realize that a wet stain was left on the chair for chris to see… i get back to his room and im greeted with chris standing right by the door. “whats getting you all worked up? you thought i wouldnt notice huh?” “such a fucking slut.” he grabs me by my arm and pins me up against the wall. “you want to be such a needy little slut, ill treat you like one.” he says in a lustful and dark voice. he walks back to his chair and acts like he just came back from the bathroom. i follow him back to my seat and chris immediately starts rubbing on my clit.

“chris wtf ur literally throwing the game” “cmon bruh” “sorry”

i sneak under his desk and present myself in his lap. i have to be really careful and not reveal myself. i tug at his waistband and expose his cock. i gently lick the tip before going deeper. chris pushes on my head subtlety before pushing me away. “your gonna make me cum.” he pushes me away and i make my way back to the chair.

“are u sure ur okay u keep fuckin up” “yeah im fine idk whats going on. i think i might hop off soon” “lame. matt im gonna come to your room” chris turns off his mic and camera before disconnecting.

“what the fuck did i tell you.” “i asked you to sit on the bed and you cant even do that.” “get on your knees.” i obey his orders and get on my knees, taking off my shirt. he pulls out his cock before opening my mouth and shoving his length down my throat. “fuck chris” i moan out while choking on his dick. “what did you say mama? i cant hear you.” he starts bobbing my head harder into his groin. “mmmm fuck” “get on the bed.” “all fours mama.” i crawl onto the edge of the bed as chris smacks my ass, leaving bright red handprints. “you want to act like a slut” he pushes his whole length into me, “you get treated like one.” he starts pounding into me at full force, giving me no time to adjust to his size. “ffuuuuucckckkkk” i say separated with each hard thrust into me. “chris im gonna.. im i” i say breathy. “whats that mama?” he says while smacking my ass. “speak up.” “im gonna cum! fuck!” he starts rubbing on my clit and thrusting even harder into me. “chris!” “let go for me mama” i release all over him and soak the bed. “oh fuck baby. keep making those pretty noises, your gonna make me cum” chris moans. i moan recklessly as he whimpers and whines into my cunt just before cumming. “fuck im gonna cum.” he holds me down before releasing his load. still thrusting into me slightly. he falls onto my back, kissing me gently down my spine. he pulls out and watches the cum drip from inside of me. “fuck baby. ur so good to me.”

*text from matt*

i had to stop the stream because of you😐ur so fucking gross.

“shit baby.” “what?” “you were being too loud. ill be right back. stay here mama” chris goes upstairs into the kitchen to get something to drink. nick comes down from his room. “you really couldnt have waited until later? i could hear you guys from My room. stop being so horny… especially when we are LIVE.” “yeah thats my fault” “chat wasnt too happy…” “what did they say?” “i think youll find out.” nick walks over to the couch.

“fuck” chris says under his breath. he goes back down to his room with a pepsi and a glass of water. “here u go baby” “is everything okay?” i ask with a worried look on my face. “yeah everythings fine…” he looks at the giant wet stain on his bed. “ill change the sheets, you go watch something on the tv.”

[catatombi]

beware of fang

Hey, im gonna say it outright and state that this is a call out. people get called out for being dangerous. fangs nearly pushed 3 people to commit suicide(including myself) and i had to be hospitalized because of him, so this feels justified. Im sorry if you disagree, ill keep it short and to the point If you’ve been a long time follower of his im sure you’ve seen his vague posts about his ex friends, the cotl tumblr community and “fandom drama” with little to no context behind it, other than various people appearing on his DNI. his vague nature in the posts is intentional, he doesn't want to let on that he was abusing his friends. Ive tried time and time again to write something but it never seemed right, like what he’s done to me and my friends wasn’t severe enough to warrant something like this, but it is and i don't want to let this go any longer, esp not when he has my friends, their names, usernames and literal contact information in his DNI list Over the last year ive been friends with fang hes been horrible. Hes never changed and refuses to acknowledge what hes done to his friends and how horribly he has hurt them, to keep this short im keeping this bullet pointy Here is his carrd, he has everything neatly outlined for yall to block on every platform Dont harass, dont contact. all of this is public information so https://web.archive.org/web/20240713073710/https://fanged-info.carrd.co/#boundaries

https://fanged-info.carrd.co/ Twit: FFANGEDD / narilamb_ / mewhenimsilly Insta: ffangedd / narilamb Tumblr: ffangedd / fanged-cotl / fanged-xeno Cara: narilamb Blusky: fanged / narilamb Itaku: fanged Artfight: FANGED Toyhouse: FFANGEDD Sheezy: fanged Discord & telegram: narilamb All the people mentioned have given consent Cw !!! abuse, suicide, self harm https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG

The drive is a bit out of date, as I logged it all before april. Hes posted more awful shit and vented to me again since then Feel free to request the letter i wrote to him, i might share it anyway because it sums up my thoughts on the matter If you want any additional context feel free to ask

Fang uses suicide and self harm threats to control and manipulate his friends, hes begged me for assisted suicide and when i refused to help him commit he begged in groupchats. He begged on instagram stories as well as twitter, so much so that his twitter for suspended for 12 hours. He has admitted to wanting someone to commit suicide with him and has previously formed suicide pacts and nearly followed through on one with a friend. fang backed out first. he continues to redirect blame. refusing to take accountability for his actions. He still blames his previous medications, his ex psychiatrist, his self diagnosed BPD & OCD, psychosis, and states of beings from disorders he doesn't have (claiming to be manic or sociopathic whilst not having bipolar1 or ASPD) fang blames his (ex)friends, claiming they were projecting their mental illness onto him when they were just reacting to his abuse, that they the ones in the wrong and that how they treated him/cut him off was vile and unfair, and believes that he never got real closure when he did. it just wasn't what he wanted to hear and now feels entitled to an apology from these people when all he’s ever done is traumatize and terrorize them. He describes the amount in which he has cut over pavi, wart and kat because what they put him through and how they traumatized him. The traumatizing actions were: Kat asking for a content warning, pavi didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore and blocked him without an explanation & wart blocked him after being emotionally abused for months Hes described how he would carve their names into his thigh and told me that he will carve my name into his skin when i leave too. He demanded wart and surf choose their “real friends” and cut off their community for him because fang hated that they were being “two-faced” and hanging out with “people who hate him” He would spend hours venting relentlessly and graphically in his friends DMs, demanding their time and attention and expecting immediate replies. His friends are not professionals and shouldnt be expected to be an on-call DIY therapist for him, for hours, without consent. Fang has said he is completely unwilling to self censor for other peoples safety fang has vented to a 13 year old (they were not hiding their age) He referred to me (and our friends) as a phone person, a voice, icons. Concepts he can talk. Completely dehumanizing everyone that cared about him even to their faces. He blames his ex friends for his poor mental health and has said he wishes they watched him commit suicide, he wanted his friends to be traumatized from this (as if they werent already.) When a friend posted a screenshot of a gamenight to tumblr he had a breakdown so severe and so dangerous for so long that several of his friends has to mute the DM to keep themselves safe from his verbal abuse and suicide/SH threats He doesn't care about how triggering any of this can be for someone and will subject anyone (including people in danger) to his “venting” He didnt care about triggering me and contacted me at the worst of my suicidality in january and exasperated the danger i was in so severely I had to be hospitalized against my will before I could commit suicide. 

Im honestly not entirely sure what to even think. he knew the severity of my suicidality. he knew I had been hospitalized for an attempt in 2022, and still he chose me, probably the most vulnerable of his friends at the time to vent that heavily too back in janurary Hes a dangerous selfish person whos proven over and over that hes not getting better and isnt willing to change, i honestly had hope when he slowed down his graphic vent posts and victim blaming on twitter and insta but he decided to say fuck all and get right back into his shit train of shame and misery. Heres a link to all of the screenshot, damning ones are in important bitz if you’re not interested in going through them all https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG in these screens alone he: admits to sending his cuts to his friends, threatens to cut if i leave, admits that he was going to go through with a duel suicide and begged me for assisted suicide

warts screenshots v

full screenshots & complete context in the drive as for him claims that i was stalking him: i was scared, i was his friend. i tried so hard to be good enough and never was. the screens were a by product of confiding in my friends about what was happening and the drive was made to share w/ them i admit i prolly shouldve combed out some of it but, ykno also big phat apology for tagging cotl!!!!! only did bc fang has, please stay safe everyone, and thank you so much if you have read everything (the doc encase anyone was wanting it ! figured i;d just use tumblr regular posting method) https://docs.google.com/document/d/17QjXUEdQVd8c4GZS--vPo-xR3kgmoLl4ZmN3ROMutg0/edit?usp=sharing

edit as of 8:30pm 7/17/24 here is a link to pavi's response warts response and kats response

[python333]

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—” 

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of. 

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you. 

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece. 

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?” 

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder. 

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up. 

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.” 

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder. 

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.” 

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up. 

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.” 

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about. 

It was their stupid accents you hated. 

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy? 

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up. 

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.” 

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?” 

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?” 

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.” 

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return. 

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.” 

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.” 

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers. 

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open. 

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price. 

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap. 

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk. 

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?” 

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well. 

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.” 

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?” 

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” 

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.” 

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.” 

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact. 

“Mhm,” Ghost hums. 

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.” 

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle. 

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].” 

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?” 

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.” 

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—” 

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.” 

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic. 

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought. 

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you. 

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.” 

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.” 

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.” 

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.” 

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort. 

“Muppet?” 

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.” 

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.” 

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?” 

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—” 

“Ghost, don’t start—” 

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Bunny (Part 3) - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Joker x Fem!Reader Joker x Reader with Anxiety

Word Count: 12,588

Warnings: murder, Joker, minor age gap, police (ew)

Summary: Imma cut to the case, girly loses her car

(Part One) (Part Two)

A/N: Hey...how yall doing... Sorry I kind of disappeared off the face of the earth for a little while...my bad, I have made a few posts explaining how my life's been a mess recently, so had to take a step back from all this for a while. I don't know how often I'll be able to update things/post, but I'll do my best with the time I had, it might just be a bit slow, sorry And thank you to everyone that reached out to me, it's so sweet to have you guys looking out for me and all that, thank you so much, it means the world and thanks for reading most importantly, it's good to see people enjoying my fics 💚 SO! it's been a while, but I hope I didn't disappoint :) Enjoy~

-

It had been over a week since Y/n had last seen Joker. A week since the night he brutally beat the shit out of Max, the image still lingered in her mind, as did his words. How he made it clear she wasn’t allowed to have anyone else in her life. After everything that happened, Y/n couldn't bring herself to attend classes. The risk felt too great, she didn’t want to anger Joker any more than she already had. She had been isolating herself in her dorm ever since, barely leaving except for quick trips to the bathroom or to grab food from the dining hall. It was as though the walls of her small room were closing in on her, and the world outside felt too dangerous to face.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Joker had been around to break the monotony, to bring some kind of human interaction into her lonely routine. His presence, unpredictable as it was, might have been better than the suffocating silence. But then again, he was the one who had forced her into this isolation. Did she really want comfort from the same man who had made her feel trapped in the first place?

Well...yes. Yes, she did. 

As much as she hated to admit it, Y/n missed him. Missed J. What if he was right? What if she truly didn’t need anyone else? After all, people had always made her feel uncomfortable, anxious. Except for Joker. Despite his chaos and unpredictability, he had a way of making her laugh, of making her feel seen and special. Strangely enough, there were moments when he even made her feel safe. And when she really thought about it, she only doubted him when he wasn’t around. It was in his absence that the questions and fears crept in. But when J was by her side, everything seemed brighter, more manageable. It was like her doubts evaporated in his presence, leaving behind only the spark he ignited in her.

She had no idea why he hadn’t called or shown up in the past week. Maybe he was busy with fuck knows what. Y/n had been avoiding the news along with people, deliberately shutting herself off from anything that might clue her in to Joker’s latest chaos. She hated hearing about his “exploits”, it made everything feel too real, too overwhelming, as if by hearing about his crimes, she became more entangled in his dark world. And she wanted to keep that part of her life as far away as possible.

But then a chilling thought crossed her mind. What if he was dead? Her heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as her breathing grew ragged. Could that be it? Joker, her Joker, dead? No, it wasn’t possible. He was the Joker, larger than life, untouchable. But if that were true, then where was he? Where was her J?

Panic crept up her spine. The more she thought about it, the more her mind spiraled. If something had happened to him... no, she couldn’t let herself think like that. But still, the gnawing question lingered. Why hadn't he shown up? Why hadn't he called?

Y/n sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she curled up on her side. The bed, usually a place of solace, felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Or, to be fair, every night. She just wanted—

“Leaving your window ajar? Bit dangerous in this society,” a familiar voice drawled, smooth yet taunting.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and her eyes flew open. She whipped around in her bed, gasping in disbelief. “J!” she cried out, her voice full of relief and joy.

Crouching in her window, Joker looked as mischievous as ever, his signature grin stretching across his face. His sharp eyes glittered as he swung one leg inside, then the other, landing silently on her floor. He stood there, his frame casting a shadow across the room, but there was an undeniable magnetism in his presence. He radiated danger and yet, to her, there was comfort in seeing him, as twisted as that comfort was.

"You missed me, Bunny?" he smirked, straightening up as he sauntered over to her bed. 

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She shot up from her bed, her feet barely touching the floor before she rushed across the room and threw herself into Joker's arms. The moment she felt his grip tighten around her, it was as if the weight she'd been carrying all week lifted. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, a strange mix of cologne, smoke, and something undeniably Joker.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he teased, his voice low and amused as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly against him.

Y/n sighed deeply against his chest, a sense of relief flooding through her as she melted into his embrace. The loneliness and emptiness that had weighed her down for days seemed to evaporate the moment he returned. With Joker there, her once dull, lifeless room suddenly felt vibrant and alive again, his mere presence filling the space with an intensity only he could bring.

"Where have you been?" Y/n asked softly, her voice muffled as she kept her face pressed into his chest.

"You know...around," Joker replied casually, his voice as nonchalant as ever.

Despite the vague and careless answer, Y/n found that she didn’t really care. Not right now. All that mattered was that he was here, in her arms again, filling the emptiness she had felt all week.

"And I come bearing gifts," Joker's voice took on a playful edge. He reached behind his back, pulling something out from beneath his coat with a dramatic flourish. In his hand, a bouquet of flowers appeared. Slightly wilted, the petals crushed from being stuffed behind his back, but flowers nonetheless. "Flowers," he declared with a crooked grin.

Y/n couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her as she accepted the bouquet. "A little beaten up, but still lovely. Thank you."

Joker leaned in closer, his smirk deepening. "Had to put them somewhere while I climbed up here. Couldn't exactly carry them in my teeth." He said, baring his stained teeth.

Y/n blinked at him in disbelief, her heart doing a small flip at the thought. "Why in the fuck would you climb up here? I live on the fourth floor!"

Joker shrugged, clearly unfazed. "Keeps me sharp. Plus, I like to keep things...interesting." 

Y/n shook her head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief running through her. Of course, Joker would think scaling a building was a fun way to make an entrance. It was reckless, just like him, but that same unpredictability was what made him so captivating to her.

Y/n carefully placed the flowers on her bedside table, their slightly crumpled petals a reminder of Joker's unconventional affection. She turned back to him, her fingers curling around his wrist as she gently tugged him toward the bed.

Without missing a beat, Joker kicked off his shoes, the movement fluid and practiced, as if he’d done it countless times before. He climbed onto the bed, settling down with a casual ease. Sitting up for a moment, Joker shrugged off his coat, tossing it to the floor, then stretched out his arms, inviting Y/n into his embrace.

Without hesitation, she slipped into his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a strange comfort to her, a grounding presence in the chaos he always seemed to carry with him. Joker sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow, his fingers lazily tracing the curve of her back.

"You uhh...haven’t left your dorm in a while, have you, Bunny?" Joker’s voice was casual, but the question was laced with an undertone of curiosity.

Y/n froze for a second, the truth settling heavily in the space between them. She shook her head slowly, not wanting to delve into the reasons why.

Joker tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. "Wanna tell J why?" he asked, his tone almost coaxing.

Instead of answering, Y/n only shrugged, burrowing deeper into his chest, as though she could make herself disappear within his arms. The weight of everything she had bottled up, the isolation, the fear, the confusion, it was too much to put into words. All she wanted in that moment was to feel small, safe, and sheltered from the overwhelming reality pressing down on her.

Joker let his fingers gently stroke Y/n’s head, his touch both soothing and reassuring. The room was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of their breathing and the occasional creak of the bed as Joker shifted slightly.

“Come on,” Joker began after a moment, his voice a soft murmur against the silence, “tell J.”

Y/n remained nestled against him, her voice barely a whisper. “I just...I didn’t feel like leaving. Things got complicated, and I didn’t want to risk…I don’t know, making things worse.”

Joker’s expression softened slightly, though his playful smirk remained. “Complicated, huh?”

Y/n nodded against his chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if it were a lifeline. “Yeah. It’s been hard, trying to make sense of everything. And...I guess I’ve been scared.”

Joker’s hand slid up to cup her cheek, tilting her face up slightly so he could meet her eyes. “Scared of what, Bunny?”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling the lump in her throat. “Scared of...disappointing you...And of you being angry.”

Joker’s gaze softened further, and he pulled her even closer. “Hey, you don’t need to be scared. Not with me, Doll. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m certainly not gonna hurt you. Not a chance.”

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and lingering worry. “But sometimes, you make me feel like I’m walking a tightrope…Like I can’t breathe.”

Joker’s fingers traced gently along her jawline, his touch tender despite the intensity of his gaze. “I get it. I do. Sometimes I…push too hard, and…” he sighed, rolling his eyes, not wanting to admit it. “It’s not always about what’s best for you. But remember, Bunny, you’re mine. And I don’t just mean that in some possessive sense. I mean it in a way that means I care about you…Even if I don’t always show it the right way.”

She managed a small, appreciative smile. “I know. It’s just hard to balance everything.”

Joker’s eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We’ll find that balance together, yeah? Just you and me on that little tightrope of yours. And maybe, if you’re willing…We can…talk more about what’s been going on. Mhmm?”

Y/n nodded, feeling the warmth of his words and his presence. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully relax into his embrace. For now, the world outside seemed far away, and in this moment, it was enough to simply be held by him.

“Will you stay the night? Please?” Y/n asked, her voice soft and pleading as she snuggled closer to him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Joker’s eyes dropped to her, his expression shifting from his usual playful mask to something softer, yet still tinged with mischief. He raised an eyebrow and gave a theatrical sigh. “What, in this tiny little bed?” he teased, casting an exaggerated glance around the small space.

Y/n’s heart sank slightly, but she maintained her hopeful gaze, her eyes glistening with a mixture of hope and anxiety. “Yes, please. Just tonight.”

Joker’s smirk widened, and he gave a dramatic shrug as if considering the request. “Oh, alright,” he said, with a hint of reluctance. “But only because I’ve missed you too.”

He shifted, making himself more comfortable on the small bed, adjusting his position so that he could hold her more securely. His playful demeanour didn’t fully mask the warmth in his eyes, which softened as he looked at her.

As Y/n settled into the crook of Joker’s arm, her breathing began to even out, the steady rhythm of her chest rising and falling in a peaceful cadence. Joker watched her with a mix of tenderness and fascination, his usual chaotic energy replaced by a rare, serene calm. Her face, softened by sleep, was framed by stray strands of hair that had fallen across her forehead.

He carefully adjusted his position, making sure not to disturb her slumber. With a gentle touch, he reached over to pull the covers up over both of them, tucking it snugly around their bodies. The soft rustling of the fabric was the only sound that filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the loud chaos of their usual lives.

Joker’s eyes remained fixed on her for a moment longer, taking in the sight of her so serene and vulnerable. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over her face, highlighting the delicate features that had become so familiar to him. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh, a rare moment of contentment washing over him as he admired her.

Once he was satisfied that they were comfortably covered, Joker finally allowed himself to relax. He shifted slightly, arranging himself so that he could hold her close, feeling the comforting weight of her against him. With one last glance at her peaceful face, he closed his eyes, letting himself drift off into sleep. 

It was a rare and almost mythical sight. Joker sleeping. Sleep was a luxury he seldom afforded himself, a mere afterthought in the whirlwind of his life. His existence was a constant rush of adrenaline and chaos, where sleep was more of an inconvenience than a necessity. Yet, tonight was different. Tonight, the demands of his chaotic world seemed to dissolve, if only for a brief moment.

As he lay beside Y/n, the darkness of the room enveloped them in a cocoon of calm. The usual sharpness in his features softened in sleep, his furrowed brow easing into an uncharacteristic serenity. The once restless energy that drove him now lay dormant, replaced by a quietude that felt both foreign and oddly comforting.

He allowed himself this rare indulgence, surrendering to the soothing rhythm of Y/n's breathing and the gentle warmth of her presence. For tonight, he set aside the complexities of his world and the incessant ticking of his internal clock. This rare pause from his relentless pursuits, was all for her. 

For his Bunny, he was willing to grant himself this brief escape, allowing the world outside to fade into the background, leaving only the serenity of their shared night.

-

Y/n stirred awake slowly, feeling an unfamiliar warmth around her. Blinking against the soft light shining through the window, she realised she was still tucked in Joker's arms. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm beneath her cheek, the sound of his heartbeat oddly soothing. For a brief moment, everything felt surreal. Joker, the Joker, lay sleeping peacefully beside her. 

She tilted her head slightly to look at him, taking in the sight of his face softened by sleep. The sharp edges of his usual expression were gone, replaced by something almost...human. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist, holding her close as if even in sleep, he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Y/n’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions. Relief, tenderness, and a quiet sense of disbelief. She never expected to wake up like this, cradled in the arms of a man so dangerous and unpredictable, yet, in this moment, he felt like a safe harbour in the storm.

As she shifted slightly to get more comfortable, his grip tightened instinctively, pulling her closer as if he could sense she was awake. A small smile tugged at her lips, and for the first time in a while, she felt a flicker of peace. Being with him might have been turbulent, but in moments like this, when it was just the two of them, the world seemed to pause.

"You're still here," she whispered softly, half to herself.

Joker didn’t stir, still lost in the rare tranquillity of sleep. Y/n snuggled back into his embrace, her body relaxing against him once more, savouring the fleeting moment of calm before reality inevitably caught up with them again.

Y/n gazed up at Joker’s sleeping face, her heart swelling with a strange mix of emotions. There was something captivating about him like this. Vulnerable, peaceful. It was a rare sight, one she had never quite imagined she'd be lucky enough to witness. He looked so different without the tension he carried when he was awake. His sharp features, which usually wore a wicked grin, now seemed softer, almost innocent in the quiet of the morning. Well, they would be, if not for his makeup. 

For a moment, she couldn’t help but think back to a week ago when she had almost seen him without his makeup for the first time. That day, everything had been different. He had been furious. She didn’t wanted the first time seeing his bare face to be like that, so she simply did not look.

But now, in this stillness, Y/n found herself longing to truly see him. His makeup had always been a mask, a barrier between the world and the man underneath. What did he look like when he wasn’t the Joker, when he wasn’t playing the part of Gotham’s most dangerous criminal? She had seen glimpses, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t right. She wanted to see him in a way that felt personal, intimate, something shared between just the two of them.

Her hand twitched, tempted to reach up and trace the lines of his face, to wipe away the remnants of his painted mask. She wondered what it would be like to see him with nothing to hide behind, no makeup, no games. Would he let her? Could she ask him? The thought made her pulse quicken, a mixture of curiosity and nervousness rising in her chest.

“Staring at me while I sleep, huh?” he rasped, his voice husky from sleep.

Y/n’s breath hitched as his eyes opened, their familiar intensity returning as they focused on her. His lips curled into a lazy smirk, amusement flickering in his gaze. Y/n blushed, caught in the act. She quickly glanced away but didn’t pull back from his embrace. 

“I just…I’ve never really seen you like this before,” she whispered, her fingers lightly resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Well, don’t get used to this,” Joker said, a teasing edge to his voice as he noticed Y/n’s pout.

Y/n’s eyes remained fixed on his face, captivated despite the conversation. Joker’s brow raised as he caught her intense gaze. “Got a staring problem?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Y/n hesitated, her words tangled in her throat. “I just…” she started, struggling to find the right way to express her feelings.

Joker’s eyes softened slightly, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “It’s the face paint, isn’t it?” he guessed, his tone almost affectionate as he read her with an unsettling accuracy.

Y/n’s heart fluttered, and she nodded, not hesitating. “Yeah,” she admitted softly.

Joker’s smirk widened, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “You had your chance, remember? But you wouldn’t look at me,” he teased, fake pouting.

Y/n bit her lip, her gaze returning to his. “I didn’t want to…not when you were angry with me,” she admitted. “I didn’t want that to be the first time I saw you. But now…I want to see you.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Joker said with a smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“But satisfaction brought it back?” Y/n ventured, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she searched his face for clues.

Joker leaned in closer, the proximity causing Y/n’s breath to catch in her throat. His gaze lingered on her lips, and she let out a soft gasp, feeling the heat of his presence. “Have I satisfied you yet, Bunny?” he asked, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur.

The air between them crackled with an almost tangible tension, thick with an electric charge that seemed to pulse with every breath. Y/n felt a rush of warmth spreading beneath her skin, a heat that was both exciting and unsettling. Her heart raced in response to the intimacy of their closeness, each beat echoing in her ears. Every subtle shift in Joker's gaze and every brush of his breath against her skin amplified the sensation, making it feel like a live wire against her nerves. The intensity of his presence was overwhelming, stirring a mixture of longing and apprehension that made the moment feel almost unbearable in its potency.

Despite the charged atmosphere, she had to be honest. “Well, no…I want to see your face,” she admitted, breaking the spell of the moment.

Joker’s dramatic eye roll and the click of his tongue were almost theatrical. He pulled back, the playful irritation clear in his expression. 

For a moment, Joker said nothing, just watching her with that unnerving intensity of his. Then, he let out a low chuckle, his thumb brushing along her jawline. “You’re full of surprises, Bunny.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, this time, it wasn’t lustful, but gentle. “But if you want to see me…you’re gonna have to be ready for what comes with it. Think you can handle that?”

Y/n paused, mulling over Joker's words. What did he mean by that? What was the consequence of seeing him without makeup? Doubts began to creep into her mind. Did she really want this? Was it worth the uncertainty?

Joker noticed the turmoil written all over her face. With a heavy sigh, he reached out and gently patted her head, breaking the spell of her thoughts. “Not today, Bunny,” he said softly.

Y/n nodded, a resigned understanding settling over her. She could wait a little longer.

Joker then slid off the bed, retrieving his coat from the floor and slipping it on. He shoved his feet into his shoes with little care. “Gotta go, Bunny.”

“You just woke up,” Y/n said, confused.

“Well, crime isn’t going to commit itself,” Joker replied, holding his arms up like it was obvious.

Y/n frowned, but Joker just rolled his eyes. “I ain’t never been a saint. Don’t act like that.”

She sighed and sank back into her bed, feeling the emptiness left by his soon to be departure. Joker leaned over her, his face close, but his expression softened.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow, hmm?” he said, pulling his lips back, waiting for her answer.

Y/n managed a small smile and nodded in agreement. Joker responded with his trademark grin, placing a quick, playful peck on her lips before pulling away with a pop.

“Until then, Bunny,” Joker said, his tone light as he strutted to the window.

“You’re not seriously leaving through my window in broad daylight!” Y/n exclaimed, disbelief in her voice.

“Bye bye!” Joker said with a playful wave, completely ignoring her protests as he made his exit.

Y/n scoffed, reflecting on how it was a miracle Joker had never been caught. Hell, it was a surprise she hadn’t been caught up in his world herself. But dwelling on that was pointless.

As she lay in bed, she realized how much Joker’s presence had lifted her spirits. She hadn't felt this good in ages. In fact, she felt an unexpected surge of motivation. Not enough to drag her to her classes, but certainly enough to get out of her room.

Determined to make the most of her newfound energy, Y/n pushed herself off the bed and began getting ready for the day.

-

Sitting in her car, Y/n surprised at how far she’d come. She hadn’t expected her motivation to last her this long, but a sense of satisfaction and excitement bubbled up within her. The day ahead was a blank canvas, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, but with the wads of cash Joker had given her, she was confident she’d find something worthwhile in the city of Gotham.

Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life with a reassuring hum. As she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the streets, the city’s pulse seemed to sync with the beat of her heart. Gotham’s towering buildings and neon lights flashed past her as she drove, a blend of curiosity and anticipation guiding her through the city maze. She was ready to explore, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store.

Or, you know…just take it easy.

Y/n decided to park her car in a quieter part of the city, if that even existed. She wandered towards the waterfront, drawn by the promise of calm against the backdrop of the city’s frenetic pace. The unfamiliar sun cast a warm glow over the water, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of the polluted sea. She found a little ice cream stand nestled on the waterfront, its colourful display tempting her with a variety of flavours. After scanning the options, she chose simple chocolate. Ordering was easy enough, she barely even hesitated with her words. 

With her ice cream in hand, Y/n strolled along the waterfront, savouring each lick of her treat. The rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the shore was soothing, even if the sound was momentarily interrupted by rubbish washing up along with it. 

She watched families and couples enjoying their day, feeling a sense of normalcy and contentment she hadn’t experienced in a while. For a few moments, she let herself be immersed in the simple pleasure of the afternoon, enjoying the sweet taste of freedom and the soothing ambiance of the waterfront.

As Y/n continued to stroll along the waterfront, the initial thrill of her outing began to wane. The gentle breeze and the pleasant scenery no longer held her attention as they had at the start. Instead, a sense of weariness started to creep in. The excitement of walking around Gotham’s and the novelty of her day out were giving way to a quiet longing for the comfort of her own space.

She finished her ice cream, the last few drops of chocolate lingering on her fingers. The sun was beginning its early descent, casting long shadows across the boardwalk and signalling the end of a day well spent. Yet, Y/n found herself feeling more tired than refreshed. The energy that had once drove her spirits was fading, replaced by a growing desire to return to the familiarity and solace of her dorm room.

With a sigh, she turned away from the waterfront and started making her way back to her car. Her steps were slower now, her earlier enthusiasm replaced by a comfortable, if slightly melancholic, fatigue. The dull cityscape blurred into the background as her mind shifted to the thought of sinking into her bed and enjoying the peace of her own space.

As Y/n reached her parked car and began to pull her keys from her pocket, she suddenly felt a heavy pressure on her back. A chilling presence loomed behind her, sending a jolt of fear and anxiety through her entire body.

"Give me the keys," a gravelly voice demanded.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced over her shoulder. The dim glow of the streetlights revealed the glint of a handgun, hidden in the man's jacket but now pressed against her back. Trembling, she nodded and, with a shaky hand, retrieved the keys from her pocket. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly extended her arm, letting the keys drop into his outstretched hand.

With a rough, demanding grip, the man seized her shoulder and shoved her aside. Y/n stumbled and fell to the ground, her palms scraping against the pavement. The world seemed to blur as panic surged through her veins, her mind racing with shock and fear.

Y/n watched in stunned silence as the man sped away in her car, its engine roaring defiantly as it disappeared down the street. The reality of the situation sank in with a harsh, bitter sting. Her heart pounded as she pushed herself off the ground, her hands shaking as she brushed dirt from her clothes.

“...Fuck,” she said, with a shaky breath.

She stood up and began walking, her steps heavy and sluggish. The streets seemed endless, stretching out before her as she trudged along. With each step, her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and worries. How was she going to explain this to Joker? The thought of confronting him, of admitting she’d lost his gift, filled her with dread. 

She imagined Joker’s reaction. His anger, his disappointment, the sharp, biting words he might hurl at her. The fear of what he might do to her for failing to keep his gift safe weighed heavily on her shoulders. She’d already been through so much, and the thought of facing his potential wrath was almost too much to bear.

Y/n’s footsteps echoed through the quiet streets as she trudged on, the cold night air biting at her skin. The glow of the streetlights offered little comfort, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to mock her misfortune. She glanced down, wishing for a miracle or some kind of way to fix the situation before it reached Joker’s ears.

The sense of dread continued to gnaw at her, each step furthering her anxiety. How could she face Joker and tell him that his precious gift was now gone? The thought of his reaction, the potential fallout, was overwhelming. All she wanted was to get home, to crawl into bed, and to forget about the chaos of the night.

-

So much for feeling good. Y/n was restless throughout the night, her nerves frayed and her mind a whirlwind of anxiety. Despite the fleeting sense of fear she had of Joker showing up, sleep eluded her. She had half-expected Joker to storm through her door at any moment, demanding answers about her missing car, but the anticipated confrontation never happened.

As the hours ticked by, the night passed in a blur of fitful tossing and turning. The following day dawned with a heavy weight of dread. Y/n managed to get through the day without a single sign of Joker. Yet, the silence only heightened her apprehension. She knew deep down that he would come eventually, and she would have to face him. The thought of revealing the truth and dealing with the consequences loomed over her like a dark cloud, but she knew she’d have to deal with it.

Right on cue, the dorm door creaked open, and Joker’s voice boomed through the small room. "Honey, I'm home!" His tone was playful, but Y/n couldn't muster a smile.

Sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, she stared down at her hands, sniffling softly. Joker frowned, the door slamming shut with a careless kick as he stepped further inside. 

"Bunny?" he called, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Another sniffle escaped her, and without hesitation, Joker crossed the room, crouching in front of her. Gently, he tilted her chin up with a light touch, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her face was red and blotchy, eyes puffy, and lips swollen from crying. His brows furrowed, and he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in closer.

"Hey, Bunny...what's with the tears?" His words were casual, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

Y/n swallowed, tears still threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Joker’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What’d you do?" His voice was softer now, but his curiosity was piqued.

"I...I lost my car." The words came out between sobs, her shoulders trembling with the weight of them.

Joker blinked, processing. He leaned back a little, brow arching. "Lost it? What? In a bet or something? Just tell me who, and I’ll get it back. Hell, I can get you a new one if you want." He grinned, trying to brush it off, thinking it couldn’t be that serious.

But Y/n shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "No...some guy stole it. He had a gun, J. He made me give him the keys..." Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed with guilt and fear.

Joker froze for a second, the lightheartedness vanishing from his expression. He studied her, the anger building beneath the surface, though his tone remained calm. "He had a gun?"

“I’m sorry, J. I didn’t mean to…” Y/n's voice was muffled by her hands as she cried, her body trembling.

Joker's jaw clenched, a dangerous fire flickering in his eyes. Someone threatened his Bunny. Someone had dared to put a gun to her, to take something from her, which ultimately meant taking from him. 

His hands balled into fists at his sides, the knuckles whitening from the sheer force of his anger. It wasn’t the car that mattered, it was the audacity of it all. Someone had made her feel vulnerable, scared, and Joker couldn’t stomach that. His rage simmered, barely contained, but he knew he had to keep it together for her.

Leaning forward, he gently peeled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look up at him. His grip, though firm, was tender in a way that was reserved only for her. “Look at me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous but laced with an unusual gentleness. "This wasn’t your fault. You hear me?"

Y/n nodded weakly, her tear-streaked face still full of guilt.

Joker's thumb brushed away a stray tear from her cheek, his gaze softening for a brief moment. “No one touches what’s mine,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. The intensity in his eyes darkened, a promise of vengeance. “I’ll make sure whoever did this regrets ever breathing near you.”

Her lip quivered. "But…"

"No 'but's, Bunny. You did what you had to. They had a gun, you did the smart thing." His words were laced with conviction, his eyes burning with a wild resolve. 

Joker tilted her chin again, this time with a smirk creeping back onto his face. “And when I find this guy, well…” He chuckled darkly. “He’ll be wishing he never woke up this morning.”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling a mix of comfort and fear at his words. She knew Joker well enough to know that he wasn't bluffing. Whoever had taken her car wouldn’t just lose the car; they'd lose much more.

He leaned closer, his lips grazing her temple, whispering against her skin, “You’re mine, Bunny. And I protect what's mine.”

She nodded again, feeling her pulse quicken under his possessive words. As dangerous as he was, she couldn't deny the sense of safety that came from his presence. The world outside might have been chaos, but in Joker's arms, she felt like nothing could touch her.

"Now," Joker continued, pulling back slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Tell J however much you remember, mhmm?” His smirk widened, and for the first time since the carjacking, Y/n managed a small, shaky smile.

Y/n took a shaky breath, wiping the remnants of tears from her cheeks as she tried to gather her thoughts. “It all happened so fast,” she began, her voice still trembling. “I had just finished walking around and was heading back to my car. It was parked by the waterfront, you know? And...and then this guy came out of nowhere.”

Joker’s eyes narrowed as he listened, already piecing together what little information he could. His patience wasn’t exactly legendary, but when it came to her, he could wait. He needed the details.

“He…he had a gun,” Y/n continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t even notice him at first until he was behind me…and he put the gun to my back. He told me to give him the keys, and I-” She stopped, her voice breaking. “I just handed them over. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Joker’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent, letting her continue.

“He was tall, I think? I didn’t get a good look at his face…he had a hoodie on, dark clothes…But that’s all I remember.” Y/n shook her head, clearly frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, J. I didn’t see more.”

Joker stroked his chin, eyes narrowing in thought. Tall. Hoodie. Waterfront. It wasn’t much to work with, not nearly as much as he liked. He hated operating blind. But he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He’d figured out worse with less, and for his Bunny, he’d make it work. 

His mind raced, already formulating a plan. He knew the city like the back of his hand, knew the gangs, the small-time crooks, the desperate ones who operated in the shadows. He could already think of a few places to start looking.

Joker exhaled through his nose, a humourless grin forming on his lips as he looked down at Y/n. “Not much, huh? You’d think these idiots would be more creative.” He rubbed her arm, the action strangely soothing despite the edge in his tone. “But don’t worry, Bunny. I’ll figure it out.”

She looked up at him, her eyes full of uncertainty, but there was something else there too. Relief. Relief that he was taking control of the situation. That, in his own chaotic way, he was there for her.

Joker chuckled, his expression dark and predatory. “Oh, I’ll find this guy. And when I do, he’s gonna wish he never crossed paths with us.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, the intensity in his eyes growing. “No one messes with you and gets away with it.”

Y/n nodded, trusting him. Joker always found a way to get what he wanted, and she knew, without a doubt, that whoever had taken her car wasn’t going to have a good day when Joker finally caught up to him.

Joker hopped up off the bed with a sudden burst of energy. “Imma make a quick call, okay, Doll?” He shot her a grin before heading to the window. Just as he reached it, he turned back to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And uh…block your ears,” he added.

Y/n didn’t need any convincing. She pressed her fingers firmly into her ears, muffling the sounds of the room, watching as Joker leaned halfway out the window to make his call. The sight of him there, trying to be all business while hanging out of her dorm window, was almost comical. It was clear he was doing it to keep her from overhearing the conversation, though she wasn’t sure if it was more for her safety or his secrets.

Whatever he was saying, the call didn’t last long. After a minute or two, he pulled the phone from his ear, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He slipped the phone back into his coat pocket and made his way back over to Y/n.

“And now,” he declared dramatically, “I’m all yours.” Without warning, he flopped onto the bed, half-crushing her under his weight, his arms draped lazily around her.

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the suddenness of it all, her chest filling with warmth as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. It felt nice, almost normal in a way that contradicted everything about them. But that was what she loved. 

Joker rested his head against her, and for a moment, they simply lay there, the world outside her dorm fading away. In this small, stolen moment, it was just them, and Y/n let herself get lost in that, even if she knew it wouldn’t last forever.

Joker sprawled out across Y/n’s bed, one arm lazily draped around her waist while his other hand absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. Y/n leaned into his touch, letting herself sink into the moment, but a thought nagged at the back of her mind.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke up, her voice quiet but insistent. "You know, J...maybe you should give me some way to contact you."

Joker raised an eyebrow but didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, he continued playing with her hair, his body still relaxed. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that, Bunny?” His voice was playful.

Y/n sighed, shifting a little in his arms so she could look up at him. "I can’t keep sitting around wondering when you’re going to show up next. What if I need you? Or...just want to see you?"

Joker’s fingers paused for a second, and his eyes flicked down to meet hers. “Hmm...that’s cute. Really, it is.” He pulled himself up a bit, propping himself on one elbow, his face closer to hers now. “But here’s the thing, Doll...You can’t have my number. Or anything like that.”

Y/n frowned, confused. “Why not?” She felt like a desperate fling, constantly begging for something more, but never quite getting it. 

Joker’s smirk grew, but his eyes darkened with a touch of seriousness. He leaned in closer, brushing his lips against her ear as he whispered, “Because, Bunny, I can’t risk someone finding out that you’re in contact with me.”

She pulled back slightly, trying to meet his gaze face on. “You think someone would track me down? Just because I can reach you?”

Joker let out a low chuckle, but his expression remained cold. “Not just someone. Everyone. The moment they sniff out a little…connection between us, you’ll be in the spotlight, and trust me...” He paused, trailing his finger lightly down her cheek. “You don’t want that kind of attention. You’d be in a lot more danger than losing a car, sweetheart.”

Y/n’s stomach flipped at his words, her mind racing. He was right, of course. She didn’t want to be linked to the Joker. Not publicly, anyway. But the frustration lingered. 

"I just...hate waiting. Not knowing when I'll see you again."

Joker tilted her chin up gently. "I know, Bunny. But this is how it’s gotta be. You trust me, don’t cha?" His voice was a mix of teasing and sincerity, but she could hear the edge of caution beneath it.

Y/n nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. She did trust him, but it didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. "I trust you...It's just hard."

Joker’s grin returned, a flash of teeth as he pulled her closer. "I’ll pop in when you least expect it, like always. Keep things interesting."

Y/n managed a small smile at that, though part of her still wished she could have some control over when they’d see each other. But deep down, she knew he was right. If anyone found out about her connection to him, her life would spiral into danger even more than it already had.

For now, she had to accept that this was how it would always be unpredictable, chaotic, and entirely on his terms. But somehow, being wrapped up in his arms made it feel a little more bearable.

-

A couple of hours passed, with Joker and Y/n sprawled out on her bed in a comfortable silence. Joker had been unusually calm, his arms wrapped loosely around her, while she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She assumed he was thinking, but she liked the think he was relaxing, just a time of peace between them. But this peace couldn’t last forever.

Eventually, Joker stirred, shifting beneath her. “Alright, Bunny,” he muttered, slipping out from her hold. “Time for me to bounce.” 

Y/n propped herself up on her elbows, watching him. She didn’t want him to leave, but she knew better than to say it out loud. “Already?” she asked quietly, though the answer was obvious.

“Got things to do, cars to find,” he replied, tugging on his gloves and smoothing his hair back. “You know how it is.”

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from asking him to stay longer. Joker turned to her with a smirk, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Bunny. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

With that, he made his way to her door, throwing it open like he always did. Y/n watched him as he walked, feeling the familiar pit in her stomach as he disappeared into the night, leaving her alone once again.

-

It had been three days since Y/n had last seen Joker, and the absence weighed heavily on her. The first day, she had convinced herself he was just busy, caught up in whatever mischief Gotham demanded of him. But by the second day, she started to feel the creeping sadness and unease. By the third, she couldn't shake the emptiness that lingered in the pit of her stomach. 

Every knock or creak had her hoping it was him, but no such luck. She spent the days moping in her dorm room, feeling the weight of his absence more with each hour that passed.

By the time evening rolled around, her hunger forced her to make a rare trip down to the dining hall. As she lined up for dinner, grabbing a plate and serving herself some food, she felt strangely disconnected. The clatter of cutlery, the murmur of students talking around her, it all seemed distant, as though she was walking through a fog.

That’s when she heard it.

From the TV mounted in the corner of the dining hall, the news anchor’s voice echoed through the room. “In other breaking news, Gotham has been in fear the past few days as a series of crimes linked to the Joker continue to escalate. Authorities are urging citizens to remain vigilant—"

Y/n’s grip on her plate tightened as she froze mid-motion, her heart skipping a beat. Joker. They were talking about him. She glanced over her shoulder at the TV, feeling her chest tighten as the images of destruction flashed across the screen. As Y/n sat in the dining hall, her focus was still on the TV.

"—Police have been interviewing several local gang members who have turned up beaten and bruised over the past few days. The victims, all of whom belong to various underground organisations, have been questioned about an odd line of inquiry from what appears to be the Joker, or those associated with him. Reports indicate that he’s been asking them about a purple Ford Cortina."

Y/n’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, her stomach flipping as she heard the words. A purple Ford Cortina. Her car. She knew he would search for it, but she didn’t really think about what that would entail. 

"Authorities and gang members speculate that the vehicle in question may be linked to illicit activities, possibly connected to the drug trade. Given the Joker's relentless pursuit of this particular car, investigators believe there may be a significant reason behind his interest."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat. So Joker had been trying to track down her car. The realization sent a chill down her spine. He was tearing through Gotham’s underworld, using any means necessary to find it. And if the news was anything to go by, he was leaving a trail of battered bodies in his wake. She could only imagine what Joker might do when he found the guy who actually took it.

Y/n couldn’t help but find it a bit amusing how everyone speculated that Joker’s relentless hunt for the car had to do with drugs, money, or something valuable hidden inside. The authorities and gang members alike were convinced there was a darker motive behind his obsession. But the truth? The Joker was tearing through Gotham's underworld simply because Y/n was upset about losing her car. 

All this fear and bloodshed, and it wasn’t over money or a drug deal gone wrong, it was just because Joker wanted to track down the guy who took her car and make him pay.

-

Y/n was deep in sleep when she felt a shift in the room, a faint sound of the window creaking open, followed by the softest thud against the floor. She stirred, half-aware, when a familiar presence loomed over her bed. Suddenly, she felt fingers gently brushing her cheek, a cold touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Bunny," Joker's voice whispered into the darkness.

Her eyes fluttered open, heart racing as she saw his pale face inches from hers, illuminated by the faint light from the street. "J?" she mumbled groggily, rubbing her eyes. 

"Wake up, sweetheart. I’m taking you somewhere." His voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, as always. He crouched next to her, his hand now resting on her shoulder. 

Groggy and disoriented, Y/n sat up in bed, her eyes barely open as she pouted. “J, it’s too late to go out,” she groaned, her voice heavy with sleep.

Joker, unfazed, strode over to the pile of clothes strewn across the floor. He sifted through them with purposeful movements until he pulled out a pair of pants, which he tossed onto the bed. “Get dressed before I have to do it for you,” he said, his tone commanding.

With a reluctant sigh, Y/n tossed off her covers and struggled out of her pajama shorts, wriggling into the track pants Joker had given her. She shuffled over to him, her movements sluggish. Joker crouched down beside her, helping her into socks and shoes with a quick, messy touch.

“I’m taking you to my hideout,” Joker announced, his voice carrying a note of excitement as he tightened her shoelaces.

Y/n’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Huh?!” she exclaimed, her confusion evident.

Ignoring her reaction, Joker finished with her shoes and guided her toward the window. “Let’s go!” he urged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“I’m not climbing out of the fucking window!” Y/n protested, her voice loud with alarm.

With a chuckle, Joker removed her large purple coat from the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Trust me, Bunny,” he said softly but firmly, “it’ll be worth it. Now, come on.”

Joker's grin widened as he gently but firmly urged Y/n to climb onto his back. “Come on, Bunny, up up!” he said, settling her comfortably. He held her legs around his waist securely, making sure she was steady.

Y/n, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and excitement, wrapped her arms around Joker’s neck and closed her eyes tightly. She tried to ignore the dizzying sensation of the height and the rush of cold air as she felt him step out the window.

Joker's movements were smooth and deliberate as he expertly climbed out of the window, his strong grip keeping them both secure. He maneuvered carefully down the side of the building, his confidence evident in every step. The city below looked distant and blurry to Y/n as she held on, her breaths coming in shallow, controlled gasps.

With each passing moment, the steady rhythm of Joker’s descent, combined with his soothing presence, helped to calm Y/n’s nerves. She felt a strange sense of safety despite the precarious situation. 

When they finally reached the ground, Joker gently lowered Y/n to her feet, turning to face her with a triumphant smile. “There we go. Safe and sound,” he said.

Y/n took a deep breath, slowly opening her eyes to the dimly lit streets of Gotham. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, but she couldn’t help but smile at the exhilarating escapade.

Joker’s hand found Y/n’s with a firm yet reassuring grip, his gloved fingers wrapping around hers with a sense of purpose. “Come on, Bunny,” he said, leading her through the dimly lit alleyways of Gotham. The city’s nighttime sounds buzzed around them, but Joker's presence made the chaos feel distant and controlled.

They approached a familiar van parked inconspicuously against the shadowy backdrop of Gotham. The van’s dark windows and battered exterior made it blend seamlessly into the night, a stark contrast to the vibrant city lights.

Joker guided Y/n to the sliding door on the side of the van, giving her a gentle nudge to help her step up. “In you go,” he said with a playful wink. Y/n climbed in, her heart still racing from the excitement and the earlier climb.

Inside, the back of the van was surprisingly well-organised. A few cushions and blankets were strewn about, creating a makeshift yet cosy space. Y/n settled onto the soft surface, glancing around with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“You’ve made it nice in here,” Y/n remarked.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way for my Doll,” Joker replied.

Joker followed her in, sliding the door shut behind him with a quiet click. He turned to face her, his expression a blend of satisfaction and mischief. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone light and teasing as he took a seat next to her.

Y/n nodded, still processing the unexpected turn of events. “Yeah,” she said, her voice tinged with both awe and amusement.

Joker grinned, leaning back against the wall of the van. “Good.”

“J?” Y/n asked softly.

Joker hummed in response, his gaze fixed on her.

“Why are you taking me to your hideout?” she asked, curiosity laced in her voice.

“Need a little help with some...inquiries,” Joker said vaguely

Y/n sighed, knowing that was all the answer she'd get from him. There was no point in pressing for more. Still, a part of her wasn’t concerned, she trusted him in her own way. She knew Joker would never deliberately put her in danger. At least, not anything she couldn’t handle.

The van ride was shorter than Y/n expected, probably because Joker’s henchman refused to slow the fuck down. The vehicle sped through Gotham's dark streets, swerving around corners with reckless abandon, zooming through redlights. Y/n gripped the seat, her knuckles turning white, while Joker sat unbothered, clearly used to shit driving.

Before she knew it, the van screeched to a halt. The back doors creaked open, and Y/n stepped out, barely keeping balance. 

“Why couldn’t Rocco drive instead,” Y/n muttered to herself.

Her eyes tried to adjust to the dimly lit scene. Large shipping containers loomed in front of them, stacked high and scattered across the docks. Joker’s hideout was tucked between them, barely noticeable among the industrial sprawl.

“Home sweet home,” Joker grinned, helping her stand still.

Joker strode confidently ahead of the group, his long coat billowing behind him as he led Y/n through the maze of shipping containers. She trailed behind, her eyes scanning the dimly lit scene, while his henchmen fell into place around her like silent shadows. There was a tension in the air, but none of it was directed at her.

The people inside Joker's hideout were all armed, weapons strapped to their sides or held casually in their hands. Some wore clown masks, others bare, but their attire was surprisingly basic, unlike their leader. Yet, as Y/n passed through the hall, not a single pair of eyes met hers. No one dared to glance her way, as if her presence was something they had been strictly instructed to ignore.

Joker must’ve said something to them beforehand. The thought made her feel both relieved and a little unnerved. Even in his world of anarchy, he had ensured that she was untouchable here. She quickened her pace to catch up to him as they neared a large, rusted metal door.

Joker pushed open the heavy, rusted metal door with a dramatic flourish, stepping inside and gesturing grandly with both arms. "Ta-da!" he announced with an exaggerated smile, his voice echoing off the steel walls.

Y/n stepped in behind him, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The room was dimly lit, the smell of sweat and blood hanging thick in the air. In the center of the room were three men, each strapped to a chair, their faces swollen and bruised beyond recognition. Blood dripped from their mouths, their clothes torn and stained. They looked barely conscious, heads slumped forward, held up only by the restraints binding them.

"Look at ‘em, Bunny! Didn’t they clean up nice?" Joker said with a maniacal grin, walking up to the men and giving one of them a light tap on the cheek, though the man barely reacted. He turned back to Y/n, watching her carefully, as if expecting a reaction, something between shock and awe.

Y/n, though startled, knew this wasn’t out of the ordinary for Joker. She exhaled quietly, her eyes flicking from Joker to the beaten men and back again.

"These guys," Joker continued, pacing in front of them like he was showing off trophies, "have been asking all the wrong questions... But lucky for them, we’ve got the right answers. Ain't that right, fellas?" His laugh echoed in the room, chillingly casual in contrast to the gruesome display in front of them.

Y/n stood frozen at the entrance of the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the scene before her. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, fingers digging into the fabric of Joker’s coat as her eyes darted between the bloodied men. Her knees felt weak, and a wave of fear and nausea surged through her. She had never been this close to Joker's brutality before, seeing it from afar was one thing, but being here, in the midst of it, was another entirely.

She felt herself shaking, her breath catching in her throat as her mind raced. What was she supposed to do? 

Joker, noticing her reaction, moved over to her, his sharp grin softening into something more comforting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, fingers curling gently as he pulled her closer. 

“Hey, hey... it’s alright, Bunny,” he murmured, his voice unexpectedly soothing despite the horror around them. He tilted her chin up, making her look at him rather than the beaten men. “You’re safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Y/n swallowed hard, trying to calm the tremors in her body, but her fear was overwhelming. She couldn’t stop shaking. Joker’s grip tightened, firm but not harsh. His eyes, though gleaming with mischief, held a strange sort of reassurance. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her. Not while he was there.

“You recognize any of ‘em?” Joker asked, his voice smooth, but laced with a hint of danger. He gestured lazily to the men in the chairs. “One of these guys…is the prick who took your car, Doll. Which one? Huh? Take your time.”

Y/n’s eyes flicked nervously toward the men, her pulse quickening as she tried to focus, to remember the face of the man who had shoved a gun into her back. Her stomach churned as she scanned each bloodied face, her fear growing by the second. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to still the shaking.

"I-I’m not sure," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Joker’s fingers on her chin turned her face to meet his gaze again.

"You’ll figure it out, Bunny," Joker said, his grin widening as he stepped back. "I believe in you."

Y/n felt her heart racing as she desperately tried to recall the face of the man who had stolen her car. She scanned the bloodied faces of the three men strapped to the chairs, her mind racing yet blank. The fear gripped her, tightening around her chest like a vice. She hadn’t turned to face her attacker that day, all she had was a fleeting impression. Now, the bruises and welts made it impossible to recognize anyone.

Biting her lip, she fidgeted with her nails, a nervous habit that had developed over the years. Each of her movements was a mixture of anxiety and frustration. She glanced back at Joker, who was now leaning against the wall with an expectant look. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she shook her head, silently pleading for an escape.

“You don’t know, Bunny?” he asked, his voice teasing yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. She nodded again, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.

Joker straightened up. He turned back to the men, clapping his gloved hands together. The sound echoed through the dimly lit room, causing Y/n to jump, startled by the sudden noise. 

“Looks like you’re all gonna face the punishment!” he declared, his tone gleefully ominous.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him approach the trembling figures. Her heart thudded louder in her ears, each beat amplifying the rising tension. “Might wanna turn around, Bunny…” he advised in a low, gravelly voice that sent shivers down her spine.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Y/n spun on her heels, not wanting to witness whatever Joker had planned. But the chilling sounds that erupted behind her were unmistakable. The first scream pierced through the air, raw and filled with terror, and she instinctively shoved her fingers into her ears, desperate to block out the horror unfolding just a few feet away.

The echos of pain reverberated through her body, and she fought against the rising panic within her. Each scream seemed to etch itself into her mind, a haunting reminder of the world Joker inhabited, a world she was still trying to comprehend.

Y/n stood frozen in place, her body trembling uncontrollably as the terrifying screams filled the air. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, blurring her vision and stinging her cheeks. The sounds behind her were a cruel reminder of the darkness that lurked in Joker’s world, a reality she had only glimpsed at before now.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. The warmth of fear flooded through her, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear from the situation, to escape the horrifying reality unfolding behind her. 

“J…please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound. But the words felt hollo she knew he was lost in his own excitement, reveling in the chaos that he thrived on. 

Y/n’s heart raced, each beat echoing the dread that filled her. She wanted to turn around, to stop him, but she felt paralyzed by fear. The tears began to fall, trailing down her cheeks as she desperately tried to quell the rising tide of panic.

“Please, just stop,” she murmured to herself, hoping that the power of her words would somehow reach Joker, that he would sense her distress and reconsider. But deep down, she feared that he was too far gone, too enveloped in his sadistic joy to listen to her cries for mercy. 

The room seemed to close in on her, the weight of the situation pressing down harder with every agonizing second. She felt so small, so helpless, trapped in a world she didn’t belong to, as tears continued to fall.

As the unsettling sounds of distress echoed through the room, the heavy metal door creaked open, interrupting the violent scene. A figure stepped inside, a tall, muscular man dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, his face marked with the grime of the streets. He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting to the trembling form of Y/n before focusing on Joker, who was still reveling in the fear he had instigated.

“Boss!” the man called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “We got a hit on the car!”

Joker paused mid-motion, turning his head slightly, though the glint in his eyes hadn’t faded. The man who had entered looked nervously at Y/n, noting her shaking form before turning back to Joker, eyes darting between the gruesome scene and his unsettling leader.

Joker’s grip on the nearest man loosened, and he slowly straightened up, a wicked grin spreading across his painted face. He wiped the blood from his gloves, flicking it off to the side as if it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

“Well, well, Bunny,” Joker drawled, turning his attention away from the bloodied men and back to Y/n, who was still shaking, her eyes filled with tears. He strode over to her, ignoring the mess he’d left behind. “Looks like we found your ride.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as he gently cupped her chin, lifting her tear-streaked face to meet his. “No more tears now, hmm? You’ll get what’s yours.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek before glancing at the man who had brought the news. “Show me.”

Joker reached for her side and gently placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit. Y/n's legs felt shaky beneath her, still trembling from the horrors she'd just witnessed, but she followed his lead, her mind clouded with fear and confusion.

"Come on, Bunny. We’re done here," he said softly, though his tone carried an edge that left no room for hesitation.

Y/n felt his hand tighten slightly as they approached the door, his presence offering a strange sense of security in the midst of her unease. The henchmen in the room stepped aside without a word, avoiding eye contact as they always did, heads bowed in silent deference. 

As they walked out, Joker kept his arm steady around her, pulling her closer as they passed through the rusted doors and into the dimly lit hallway. Y/n’s breath felt heavy in her chest, but with Joker leading her, she didn’t dare look back at the screams and chaos they left behind.

Once outside the room, the night air hit her face like a cold slap, grounding her slightly as the noise from the other side of the door faded away. Joker leaned down, whispering into her ear with a teasing smirk, "Told you I’d take care of it, Bunny."

Y/n nodded, still too shaken to speak. Joker helped Y/n into the back of the van with a firm but reassuring grip, and then climbed in after her. Rocco was already behind the wheel, adjusting his mirrors and starting the engine with a smooth, deliberate motion. Y/n could already tell that this ride would be different from the wild, reckless journey that brought them to the docks. Rocco wasn’t the crazy, pedal-to-the-floor type, and the knowledge that he’d drive with some level of sanity brought Y/n an odd sense of comfort after the mess she’d just been through.

Joker settled beside her, stretching out casually like they were heading to a late-night diner rather than retrieving a stolen car. His calmness, while unsettling, made her feel a little more anchored in the moment. The van pulled away from the warehouse slowly, the rhythmic hum of the engine cutting through the tension that lingered in the air.

Y/n glanced over at Joker, who was staring out the window with a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. As they wound through the quiet streets of Gotham, her nerves gradually settled, though a sense of dread still lurked beneath the surface. She knew they were heading toward the location of her stolen car, but what would happen when they got there? She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to find out.

Y/n leaned back against her seat, trying to shake the images of the beaten men from her mind. Joker, however, looked relaxed, his hands drumming lightly against his knee, as if this was just another night for him.

Rocco pulled the van into a slow crawl as they approached the location. Y/n's eyes darted out the window, scanning the area nervously. It was an abandoned lot, scattered with debris and lined with broken streetlights that flickered weakly in the darkness. In the middle of the lot sat her car, the familiar purple Ford Cortina gleaming under a dim light. Too pristine, too untouched, too perfect.

The van came to a gentle stop, and Rocco shifted into park. Y/n’s heart raced. Something wasn’t right. Everything about the scene felt too neat. The car was just sitting there, almost like it had been gift-wrapped and left for them.

Joker sat up, his usual smirk fading as he surveyed the area, eyes narrowing. Y/n swallowed hard. Even she could feel it. It was a setup. A trap, perhaps. The whole thing felt staged, like someone was waiting for them to make the first move. The silence around them was heavy, too heavy for Gotham's rough streets. 

Joker’s fingers drummed against the side of his leg, faster this time, his mind clearly working through possibilities. Without turning his head, he spoke, his voice low. 

“Stay here, Bunny.”

Y/n’s gut twisted as she glanced nervously at him, unsure of what would happen next. Something in her told her this wasn’t just about retrieving a stolen car anymore. 

Joker slipped out of the van with a calmness that contradicted the tension crackling in the air. Rocco stayed in the driver's seat, his eyes shifting to the rearview mirror, making sure Y/n was still there. She felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

From her spot in the van, Y/n could see Joker approach the car with slow, deliberate steps. His silhouette was sharp against the dim light that cast long shadows over the lot. He circled the Cortina, eyes scanning every inch of it like he was expecting something to jump out at him. His movements were careful, precise, like he was reading the scene for any sign of a trap.

Y/n held her breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the seat tightly. She had a bad feeling about this, everything was too still. Her heart pounded in her chest as Joker stopped in front of the car. He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch Rocco’s eye, a silent signal passing between them.

Rocco tensed, gripping the steering wheel. Y/n could feel the shift in the air, the anticipation building as if the whole scene was waiting for someone to spring the trap.

Suddenly, Joker’s hand shot out to open the door of the Cortina, and as if on cue, the sound of tires screeching against asphalt filled the night air. Several black cars surged into the lot from all sides, headlights blinding as they formed a rough circle around the Cortina, and Joker.

Y/n gasped, her fear confirmed. It was a trap.

“Boss!” Rocco yelled, his hand already reaching for a gun stashed under the dashboard. Joker didn’t flinch. Instead, he straightened up, his head tilting with that familiar, unsettling smile curling his lips. The chaos was brewing, but Joker looked like he was about to enjoy the show.

The screeching tires belonged not to gang members or rival thugs, but to police cars. Dozens of them, their lights flashing violently against the dark backdrop. Y/n's breath hitched in her throat as she recognized the unmistakable sirens piercing the tense silence. These weren’t just any vehicles. It was Gotham's Police Force, and they had Joker surrounded.

Joker’s eyes gleamed with twisted delight as the police vehicles formed a barricade around him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat. Instead, he straightened up and flicked a glance toward the flashing lights, his smile widening like this was all part of the plan.

Rocco cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Boss, it's the Gotham MCU," he growled, already reaching for the gun stashed under his seat.

Y/n’s heart was pounding so loudly she thought it might burst out of her chest. She stared at the police cars, her hands trembling as fear overtook her. This was bad, really bad. 

From the distance, officers began spilling out of the vehicles, guns drawn and aimed directly at Joker. They moved like a well-oiled machine, creating a blockade that left no gaps. The realization hit Y/n hard. They had set up a trap, and Joker had walked right into it.

"Step away from the vehicle with your hands up!" one officer shouted through a megaphone, his voice distorted but authoritative.

But Joker? He only laughed. That spine-chilling laugh echoed through the lot, a sound so unsettling that even some of the cops shifted uneasily. Joker turned his head slightly, as if to make sure Y/n was still watching. Then, without a hint of fear, he raised his arms slowly in the air, playing along.

Rocco looked back at Y/n, his face a mixture of worry and anticipation. "Stay low, and don’t move. Got it?" he barked, his voice low and urgent.

Y/n nodded, but inside she was spiraling. Her stomach churned, her pulse raced. How were they going to get out of this?

Joker must have made a subtle hand gesture, quick, nearly imperceptible. But Rocco saw it. He cursed under his breath and reluctantly tucked his gun back under the seat. Y/n glanced between them, confusion swirling in her chest. 

“What…what’s going on?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rocco’s jaw clenched as he turned the key in the ignition. Without another word, the van roared to life. Y/n's confusion deepened, but before she could even process it, Rocco slammed his foot on the gas, and the van jerked forward. 

“Wait!” Y/n gasped, her hands bracing against the seat as the van sped away from the scene.

Her head whipped back, heart hammering in her chest as the distance between them and Joker grew. She could see the police closing in on him, all their focus trained on capturing Gotham’s most notorious criminal. None of them even glanced at the van speeding away. 

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, eyes widening as she watched Joker stand there, calm and collected. The flashing lights, the shouting officers, none of it seemed to faze him. In fact, he was smiling.

Through the haze of panic, Y/n’s vision locked on him as the police neared. And there he was, standing completely still, his gaze never leaving hers. That familiar, wicked grin spread across his face as if he’d orchestrated the whole thing. Like this was just another one of his games.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over her. He was letting her go. Letting her escape. But at what cost? 

Her fingers gripped the seat, knuckles turning white as they sped away, the van tearing through the streets of Gotham, leaving Joker to the police.

-

A/N: OoOoOoOooo, J's been caught~ and poor Y/n still don't got her car back :C Thank you for reading this part, and thank you for being patient, I really appreciate everyone 💚 Not too sure when I'll have time to write the next chapter, but we'll see thank you again 🫶

[jiminscockr1ng]

✩｡°𝄞📱HOP ON THE STREAM𝄞°✨｡✩

╝ short story ╔

╰₊ 𓂂➢ pairing: jungkook x black!reader

╰₊ 𓂂➢ genre: streamer!jungkook x black!reader, strangers to friends/friends to lovers, lots of fluff, smut.

╰₊ 𓂂➢ warn!ngs: nothing much; jungkook and reader does banter, reader slaps jungkook (permission granted), unprotected sex, pulling out, slight masochism (no prep), dry humping, etc. [let me know if there’s more]

╰₊ 𓂂➢ summary: you and one of the most watched streamers, jeon jungkook cross paths on a random sunday afternoon. oddly, the two of you become a hot topic over night— landing you in south korea with the spunky streamer for a round two.

╰₊ 𓂂➢ word count: 11,877 words

╰₊ 𓂂➢ author’s note: this took soooo long to write!! i haven’t reread or edited anything so if there are any misspellings or grammatical mistakes, just know i haven’t checked everything over yet. i’m just so happy to be done and i hope you all enjoy it!

You breathe in the fresh air as you walk one of the various paths of the humongous park. Randomly deciding that you needed to get out of your crammed apartment, you’ve made your way to central park. The sun shined lucently on your melanin skin— looking as if god himself came down to give you a huge kiss on your forehead.

You wear a white puffer vest over your black nike hoodie. The khaki colored cargo pants clings perfectly to your legs. Enhancing your curves just right and in all the right places.

Strutting down the path in your clean white air forces. You flip your butt-length knotless braids behind you to adjust your headphones, furrowing your brows though.

‘What the fuck is that?’, you think.

This obnoxious voice— it’s not even so much the voice, it’s the yelling. So enthusiastic and high pitched, nearly sounding strained.

“Yoooo! This shit is lit as hell, I can’t lie! If anyone in New York right now— dm me, for real. What? Chat stop hatin’, yall act like y’all ain’t ever seen rats before.”

You can hear the voice growing closer despite the Sza song that is blasting in your ears. Nothing pisses you off more than hearing someone’s voice through your headphones. It simply shouldn’t be possible— you have good fucking headphone! Expensive as shit!

You decide to ignore it until you see a figure walking beside you in your peripheral view. You look to see what or who it could be and it’s a man. Young man. Fairly long black hair— hanging fluffy over his undercut, cute nose, bright doe eyes, eyebrow piercing, two silver lip rings accessorizing his thin pink lips.

Hot as hell, if you do say so yourself. And the man seems to be… talking to you. Pausing the song that blasts into your ears to hear him, your feet halts to respond.

“What?” You curiously ask. The taller man seems to find your response quite hilarious. Laughing, his smile catches your eye. He has a really nice smile. But that’s not exactly the point right now.

“I said, are you taking applications?” He repeats. If you thought you were confused before, you might as well be underneath a google search for oblivion. Because what is he talking about. “I’m sorry, applications? I’m not sure I’m understanding you correctly.” You stammer on your words and then your eyes widen when the man takes a step closer to you. Not too close, but just enough to get a whiff of his cozy-like scent. His demeanor— the look in his eyes is seductive. It intrigues you but also at the same time makes you want to run for your life.

“Application for free feet massages.” He says with this low voice as if he’s spitting the most legendary game at you. He absolutely is not. Evident on your face as you scrunch it up in disgust.

Before you can even curse him out he bursts into a fit of laughter. That’s when you notice the huge light extension connected on the top of his phone. Then the buff man standing close behind him, holding the biggest camera you’ve ever seen. You should’ve known.

“I’m fucking with you,” he says. “I’m streaming right now—” He turns to point at the camera. “Chat told me to come talk to you.” You awkwardly nod, knowing that you’re being recorded right now. “I can see that.”

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You simply nod your head, continuing your way down the path. You’ve always seen different youtube videos of youtubers or different streamers approaching people on the streets. You’ve never really imagined someone approaching you like that. It’s entertaining to watch— you agree, but admittedly it’s quite awkward being caught off guard.

Still, you can hear the man talking behind you. Assumably to the ‘chat’.

“Chill yall. I’m not gonna do that.” He tries to speak lowly, replying to the people who wish him to approach you again. “I’m gonna look like a fucking freak.” He cards his hand through his hair. It did not help that he wasted his moment to shoot his shot, too busy trolling. To be fair he panicked once he got a better look at you. You’re stunning. He knew he fumbled once you started talking to him. The chat was simply telling him to recover the trophy. The trophy being you.

“Hey,” you hear the familiar voice again. Fighting to not roll your eyes. He jogs toward you and you stop walking once again. This time, you’re a bit frustrated. You snatch your headphones off of your head. “If you’re gonna stand here and ask me some dumb shit again—”

“No, no that was my fault.” He raises his hands in defense. “I really wanted to ask for your social. You’re really pretty, just wanted to talk to you.” He calmly says, in contrast to the obnoxious high energy voice he used previously. You’re not buying it though. This has to be another prank.

“Listen, I don’t know what prank you’re pulling for your stream but I just wanna be on my way.” You can see the panic behind his eyes as you speak. He doesn’t make it too apparent but it’s there. He can’t fumble— he won’t fumble!

“I promise I’m not pulling any prank on you. Look!” He extends his hand to show you his phone. It seems to be some sort of monitoring set up for his stream and in the corner is the live chat box. You read as the thousands of comments that quickly scrolls by. Comments saying, “not a prank”, “L rizz”, “she bad as hell”, “he don’t know what to do with allat”. You decide that you’ve seen enough.

Enough to know he’s being honest. For the most part… you guess.

“Okay.” You shrug in defeat, not really knowing where to go from here. “If you’re not cool with sharing your social can I at least get you something to eat?” He asks and struggle to not show your immediate interest. You’re hungry as hell and free food is the best. Especially when a greek god is offering to pay for it. So of course the answer is yes. But you don’t forget to play a little hard to get. Guys love the chase.

“Mm, I don’t know.” You try to sound highly unsure. His eyes are practically pleading with you to say yes. Probably so you won’t embarrass him in front of his viewers. “You’re not gonna kidnap me, right?”

At that moment, he smiles again. A smile of relief. “Naw, forgot to bring my van with me— you’re good.”

The two of you— plus the unreasonably large cameraman walk a good amount of distance to reach the nearest taco bar. Reckoning that walking would be safer after the little van joke, you both talked the whole walk there.

Learning that his name is Jungkook, born in Korea, studied in New York at a young age before moving back to Korea. He fell into the streaming lifestyle after gaming for a few years. It seems that a lot of his viewers are active in the US. And ironically, this is his first time being in New York since he moved back to Korea. This also just so happens to be his last day here, catching a flight back home tonight.

It being just a weird little coincidence that the two of you met. Once seated at the restaurant’s table you can Jungkook continue getting to know one another. The fact that the camera is still recording the conversation is completely disregarded by you and Jungkook.

“Tell me more about yourself, though. Like what do you do— other than take random walks at central park?” He asks, completely invested in your life. You let out a nervous laugh as you try to put your situation into words.

“Umm, well at the moment I’m going to school and working.” You say but Jungkook wants to know more. Not just the surface level stuff. “Okay, going to school for what?” He asks curiously, his doe eyes wide and peering deeply into yours. You have to break eye contact, afraid of getting lost into the dark irises.

“Cosmetology— trade school. I do that part-time and work full-time.” Jungkook’s eyebrows raise at your presumably active schedule, whispering a “wow”. You nod your head. “It’s a lot but I have a lot of plans and I already feel that I’m behind so… stress now and it’ll pay off later.” You shrug nonchalantly before taking a sip of your strawberry lemonade the waitress had just brought to your table.

“What plans, exactly?” You furrow you eyebrows, a little smile forming on your face. “You sure do have a lot of questions.”

“Guilty,” he returns the smile. “But really, I’m interested. Here I am thinking you’re the lucky one. I’m not sure how the hell I caught you on an off day.” He says and you can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy in the inside. Jungkook is an amazing listener and you have yet to really elaborate on your future plans to anyone else— fearing to feel like a bother or hear any discouraging comments. You find yourself growing a bit excited to talk about your dreams. The dreams you work hard to achieve everyday.

“I want to open my own salon.” There goes that breathtaking smile again. “That’s incredible, really!?” You nod your head slightly, an odd feeling of shyness washes over you. “Yeah um, I spent two years in college after high school majoring in business. I knew from a young age that working for someone else wasn’t a feeling I enjoyed. However, I still didn’t know what I wanted to do.” Jungkook rests his chin on his palm, willing to listen to you talk all day.

“After I received my associates degree, someone recommended me to try out cosmetology school. I was doing hair already— only friends and family. So I ended up going and I actually really enjoy it. So,” You scratch your arm to try to distract the mean and discouraging voices in your head telling you to not say anything about your plan in case things fall through. Jungkook nods his head for you to continue, anticipating to hear more about your story.

“So I— uh began planning. Like opening my own salon and stuff. Saving my money up. Tapping into other things like nails and makeup, stuff like that.” You say rather awkwardly and unconfident. Jungkook can’t help but notice. “Don’t try to water it down. It’s your plans— your dreams. Stand proud on that shit.” He says making you giggle. Encouraging nonetheless; despite the uproarious way he put it.

“Okay okay,” you sigh. “I want to open a huge salon. Where people can come and get their hair done, nails, makeup, a spa, masseuses— all that. The ultimate feel good, self care spot. With a beauty supply store inside of the salon.” You continue adding on, listing off all of your ideas on your freshly manicured fingers and Jungkook smile grows as you do. His energy easily rubs off on you.

“Yo, that’s lit as fuck! So I can go get my hair done and then go buy products at the same place?!” He indulges into your plans and you nod, laughing at his candid excitement. “Or better yet, after I get my hair done— I can go and get a massage.” You hold your hands over your face to hide the overwhelming feeling of happiness. Somehow, the guy has figured out how to make you feel absolutely on top of the world.

To your surprise, you’re actually enjoying his unexpected company. More than enjoying it, you can practically drown yourself in the amount of entertainment you’re receiving. You seriously haven’t had this much fun in your spare time in so long.

All of your friends are introverted homebodies. As an ambivert, your mood is based solely on your companys’. And Jungkook is a natural extroverted, outgoing individual. You can’t help feeling high energy when around him. You gracefully indulge in his presence. Him and the nachos that you’re aggressively shoving down your throat.

“Damn little lady, you sure know how—”

“Don’t even finish that fucking quote.” You playfully glare at him across the table, your words muttered together due to the food stuffed inside your jaws. Obediently, he shuts the fuck up. “This is actually really good. I need to come here more often.” You comment once you finish chewing. Jungkook perks up.

“Lemme try some!” He says, all too excited. “My nachos?” He nods his head and you hum in agreement. When picking up a nacho— making sure to get the necessary ingredients on top of it, you extend your arm for Jungkook to grab it.

Instead, he opens his mouth wide, indicating the want of you to put it in his mouth. You nearly flinched. “I am not hand feeding you these fucking nachos, Jungkook.” You state and he pouts. It’s the cutest thing ever but you’re being recorded so you must focus!

“Why?” Still pouting, his eyebrows creased.

“Because…” You turn your head to look at the camera that stood up on the table right beside yours and Jungkook’s. His camera man sitting at the same table, chowing down on his burrito. That seems to be a clear answer for Jungkook.

“Don’t worry about the camera— it doesn’t matter.” He fans his hand, insisting for you to feed him your nachos. You look down at his phone—

“They’re saying you’re a munch.” His pout falls in to a stank face as he snatches his phone off of the table to look at the chat. He scoffs. “Y’all are literally D1 haters!” He continues arguing with the chat as you let out little giggles at some of the comments that were made.

“Fuck them, can you just feed me the nacho.” He says in defeat. A mischievous smile rests on your face. “Say please.” You demand and Jungkook rolls his eyes but of course, obedient as always. “Please!” He sings, you couldn’t help but laugh. Nodding your head you feed him the nachos and he moans in satisfaction. That did a little something to your insides.

A smudge of sour cream is left on the corner of his lip, his tongue failing to lick it off. Mindlessly, you reach to wipe it off with your finger. Jungkook’s eyes widen a bit at the action and his cheeks turns a faint pink. Again, you laugh. Something you seem to be doing a lot of. “Awe, are you blushing?” You tease and his expression immediately goes nonchalant. “No, it was just unexpected.” You couldn’t help it though. You have the upper hand. “Poor Kookie can’t handle the rizzler.” You joke and he laughs. Revealing that toothy smile you adore.

“You’re not funny.”

“I really am though. I’m gonna take over your whole career one day. They call me the career snatcher.” You joke, putting on a feigned smug smile. Only to continue seeing that smile and hear the sound of his quite crazy high pitched laughter a little longer.

“Absolutely no one calls you that.” He says in between laughter.

“Wanna bet?” He shakes his head before pulling out his wallet, grabbing some cash to pay for the bill. “Nope, I wanna go somewhere fun.”

You watch as he tips the waitress, handing her a hefty 50 bucks. The waitress smiles brightly before thanking him and takes hold of your empty plates. His focus turns back to you and he drums his hands on the table. “Be my tour guide.” He says, wanting to spend more time with you. You find his lame excuse of asking you out again funny.

“You’re not a tourist.” He shrugs. “You literally lived her for like 7 years.” You add, flipping your braids over your shoulder. “5 years, actually. And that doesn’t matter.” He corrects.

You roll your eyes figuring that he’s too stubborn to come out and say he wants to continue hanging out with you. Fortunately for him, you’re not sure you want to leave him just yet either. “What do you want to do?” You question and his face lights up. Truly, like a kid whose parent said they can eat ice cream.

“Is there an arcade around here?”

Unlike last time, you allow yourself to catch a ride with Jungkook and his cameraman, Benny. You’re sure that Jungkook won’t kidnap you and Benny actually seems to be a big softly despite his tough apearance.

Once the three of you enter the famous arcade you’re swamped by nearly a dozen kids. All seeming to be die hard fans of the tall muscled man next to you. His smile as he talks to the kids is so lovable you can’t help but to smile yourself as he interacts with them. Giving out hugs and autographs and pictures.

The kids don’t hesitate to follow you and Jungkook around the arcade. You couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Not even fully adjusting to the fact that you’re being recorded and people can see everything you do and say in real time, now there are dozens of people— kids, teenagers, a few adults tagging along.

Jungkook seems to have noticed your change of behavior. He grabs your hand, dragging you along with him. “Let’s play a game, c’mon!” He shouts and your heart drops as you feel his hand in yours. The two of you approach a shooting game. Jurassic Park. You’ve played the game multiple times before and you’re actually pretty good at it.

“This one.” He says, sounding out of breath. You nod as you grab a scrunchie out of your pocket. Jungkook is so hyped he doesn’t even notice the action. Boasting himself up to the crowd that surrounds the gaming booth. “You sure you can keep up, _______? You know I’m a gamer, right?” He brags on and you put your braids in a ponytail behind you. “Jungkook is trash!”Someone amongst the crowd screams and you don’t even try to hide your laughter.

“What is the beef?! Y’all hate on me on and offline.” He turns to look at you. “Watch, I’m about to destroy you,” he says competitively. You’re not sure if he knows that this is a team game. You two will not be competing against each other, rather against the dinosaurs that are trying to stomp on you.

The crowds’ laughter tells you that they are aware as well. You shrug your shoulders at them and they tell you not to say anything.

You two settle inside of the booth and you try to not think about the way his thighs rests next to yours. As the game starts up you take off your coat and Jungkook swipes the card.

The countdown starts and you both raise your guns. The cut scene starts and almost immediately the dinosaurs start running to attack you. You began shooting the targets and notice that Jungkook’s shooting is off.

“What— where is your dinosaur?!” You couldn’t help but laugh. Shooting the dinosaurs that attempt to attack you and even handling Jungkook’s load of work. You hear some people watching gasping and hyping you up which frustrates Jungkook.

“What am I supposed to do?!” He screams and on queue Jungkook dies leaving you in the game alone. You join in with the laughter surrounding the booth and Jungkook sinks into his seat as he watches you shoot all of the dinosaurs.

Eventually you win and turn your focus on Jungkook, who glares at you. You chuckle before mockingly tapping his cheek, grabbing your jacket to get up out of the booth. A few people approach you to give you high-fives and when Jungkook exits everyone makes sure to boo him. If it wasn’t for the way you’re cutely smiling back he would’ve definitely continued his trash talk. Instead, he reluctantly follows you to the next game.

The two of you end up playing almost every single game in the arcade, some fans even come to play alongside you guys.

You and Jungkook are currently picking a song on the dancing machine arcade game. Jungkook is really excited about this game— his competitiveness taking over. “Why do you keep trying to beat me, Kook?” You ask as he carefully scrolls through the song selections, that seemingly are all K-pop songs. “Because you keep winning! So until I win, I won’t stop trying to beat you.” You burst into a fit of laughter at his childish protest before putting on a feigned pout.

“Awe, he’s passionate.” You slowly rub his back and you can feel his muscles tense underneath your touch. “Stop… you’re distracting me.” He mumbles, the words only fall onto your ears. You simply giggle finding it cute that you some sort of affect on him. “Just pick a song, it’s really not that serious.”

He groans before picking the next song: Regular by NCT127. You both get into position and the people surround you both, cheering for you. You turn to see Jungkook’s little frown on top of his focused face. You don’t know whether to feel bad or swoon over how cute he looks right now.

The two of you start dancing and you come to a conclusion. Jungkook must’ve put this shit on hard mode.

You can barely keep up, nearly tripping over your feet as you try to predict the next dance move. Jungkook seems to be having a hard time as well.

When he notices you getting the hang of it he lets out a loud “no”. You scoff before quickly glancing at him. “What is this your villain origin story— get it together Kook.” He absolutely could not get it together. The big ass shoes he’s sporting didn’t help much either. So he resorted to sabotage.

You feel a light shove to your shoulder, knocking you off of the machine. Jungkook laughs when he sees your face. But when you run back on the machine it quickly drops. You hook your foot around his making him fall onto the ground.

Roars of laughter surrounds the two of you as you tussle while attempting to do the dance steps. Jungkook manages to pick you up off of the ground while dancing. You can’t even fight it, your body so weak from laughter. When the song ends he put you down and you slap his shoulder. “You cheated!” Jungkook only laughs at you before the score drops on the screen.

“I won! I fucking won— look at you!” He points and laugh at you and you just watch him, completely worn out. “You happy now?” You say, grabbing your puffer vest, slipping it back over your hoodie. He happily nods.

“I should get going. I have work in the morning.” You purse your lips, feeling disappointed to even say the words. You can tell Jungkook is as well by the way he hesitatingly nods his head and calls for Benny.

“We’ll drop you off at your place.”

Benny pulls into the parking lot of the apartment complex and you make sure you have everything before leaving the car. Jungkook places a hand on your arm and asks for you to say something to the chat before you leave.

“Okay right,” you say to the camera. “This was a fun little surprise. Jungkook’s really cool even though he can’t play games for shit.” He softly nudges your shoulder while innocently looking out the window making you giggle. “It was really fun meeting some of you today. Keep supporting Jungkook, he’s a really nice person and is just really… authentically him.” Jungkook turns to look at you and he believes that he could throw up from the way the butterflies in his stomach are moving. Looking at your pretty brown eyes, your smooth brown skin and those plumped lips that are just so tempting he could—

“Okay, I’m leaving now. Bye!” You wave your hands at the camera before awkwardly leaving the car. Jungkook sits there in panic as he watches you approach the door. It’s not supposed to end like that, right?

He hurriedly hops out of the car, jogging up behind you. Similar the way he did when he first saw you at the park. You turn your head at the sound of footsteps behind you, surprised to see Jungkook. “What are you—”

“I’m walking you to the door.” He says, trying to act nonchalant as if he didn’t just sprint out the car after you. “I can walk to the door myself. You know, because I’ve been living here for 3 years now.” You speak sarcastically and Jungkook sighs. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman.” You roll your eyes at yet another one of his lame excuses but decide to not say anything more.

Within seconds you meet the door and Jungkook mentally curses at the fact that it wasn’t some long path to get there.

Staring up at the tall raven haired man you wish that he would have just stayed in the car. Because now it’s going to be a lot harder to say goodbye. Because you know that you’re never going to see him again.

“Ahm—” you choke as you begin to speak. “I don’t know what to say.” Awkwardly rocking on the heels of your shoes. He lets out a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah um, same.” You look back at the car and see that you two are in fact not being recorded. “I had a really nice time with you today— it was fun.” Jungkook says and you nod. The awkward tension between the two of you makes you want to run inside the building and don’t look back.

“You sure you’re not just saying that?” You reply, teasing him one last time. He scoffs. “Wow, even with no cameras you still don’t believe me.”

“Hard to believe someone who jokingly gives out free foot massages” The both of you share a laugh. Jungkook opens his arms wide, indicating his want for a hug. You more than willingly comply, immersing yourself into his warmth. His arms wrap around your body as yours do his. You don’t want to move. You don’t want him to leave. For some reason, the mere 5 hours spent with him feels like 5 months and you don’t know how to say goodbye.

His chin gently rests on top of your head as he gets a whiff of your coconuty aroma. “You have my number, _______. Don’t be scared to use it.” He mutters atop your head and you nod into his chest. “You have mine too.” You add before reluctantly pulling away.

“I’m gonna go inside now. Text me before you board your flight.” Your voice is low and gloomy, matching Jungkook’s face. You make your way through the door, sending him one more wave before heading up the stairs.

That night you went to sleep in a horrible mood. The weird feeling of missing someone you just met consuming you. You even called off of work just to get one more day to relax.

Never in a million years would you have thought that by the time you wake up tomorrow, you’d be the hot topic all over social media.

Notifications rapidly blare from your phone, waking you up— something your alarm failed to do. You squint your eyes as the bright light of your phone nearly blinds you. You gasp as you check the time, realizing that you’ve slept like a baby for more than half of the day. But blind is what you think you are once you see all of the notifications.

Millions of followers on your social media accounts. Tiktok, Instagram, Twitter— all of it. Completely flooded with likes, follows and comments and dm’s. You go on Youtube to see you and Jungkook all over your feed.

What surprises you the most is the text messages from Jungkook. You didn’t expect him to actually text you after yesterday, assuming that he was just being kind by giving you his phone number. But when you open your message app, you see a thread of messages from him.

jungkook: jus got on the plane. hope ure sleeping well ❤️ 9:47pm

jungkook: is it like weird that i kind of missed u? 9:50pm

jungkook: i asked benny but u know he’s like kinda old and stuff. 9:50pm

jungkook: do feel like that too? like do u miss me? 9:51pm

jungkook: nvm don’t answer that shit 😭 9:51pm

jungkook: jus get sum rest. 9:52pm

jungkook: omggg i jus landed in taipei and ure like famous!!! wake upppp!!! 1:32pm

You should’ve braced yourself for the roller coaster you just went through reading his text messages. Nonetheless, you text him back.

you: are you sniffing crack or something? calm down 😧 1:52pm

jungkook: why r u jus waking up 🤨 1:54pm

you: i called off and overslept. it was rough last night. 1:54pm

jungkook: have u checked any of ur socials?? 1:55pm

jungkook: the stream is like literally EVERYWHERE! 1:55pm

you: yeah i’m looking now. this is actually crazy— i knew you were popular but fuck! my notifications are flooded 😭😭😭 1:58pm

jungkook: sorry about that ☹️ 1:59pm

jungkook: but hey this is all u. i bring ppl on my stream all the time nd this never happens. they jus rlly fuck with u 🤷🏻‍♂️ 2:00pm

you: i guess… 2:01pm

you: i don’t know what to do now. like what am i supposed to do? 2:01pm

jungkook: nothin u don’t wanna do. don’t stress over it 2:01pm

jungkook: jus be u 2:01pm

you: thanks kook. 2:02pm

jungkook: no problem 😉 2:02pm

you: by the way, i did miss you too. 2:05pm

you: a lot actually, it’s weird. 2:06pm

jungkook: benny says it’s normal 2:07pm

you: lmao benny’s probably right 😅 2:07pm

jungkook: my flight is gonna take off soon. i’ll text you when i get home. ❤️ 2:08pm

you: 💕 2:08pm

It’s been two long months since Jungkook left. Needless to say, you haven’t taken your mind off of the tall dreamy man since he’s popped up in your life. Partially because the two of you have been texting each other nonstop.

Despite both of your busy schedules, you always find ways to keep in touch. Texting each other constantly, facetiming when you’re both free, occasionally going live together on instagram. And the people loved it. You assumed that after a while the buzz would dwindle but the people are dying for more content.

The attention did more good than harm. You received a lot of attention from the hair you did and people have even dm’ed you to do their hair. It’s really incredible that a mere five hours has changed your life. Your family and friends are so happy for you, begging to meet the one and only Jungkook. The Jungkook who you have grown so close to over the past two months.

Everyday you feel like you’re living a dream. Never forgetting to tell Jungkook how grateful you are to him. To which he always responds with “you deserve it”.

You sit on your coach as you watch your phone in anticipation. Waiting for the ringing to stop and hear—

“Did it come?!” He says over the phone. You put on a performative show, sighing and pouting your lips. Completely disappointed. Jungkook’s enthusiastic smile falls and just as it does you whip out the thick paper, shoving it the camera.

“It cameee!” You shout and Jungkook’s face lights up. He jumps up and down in pure excitement. “Oh my god! Let me see, let me see— hold it still!”

“Geez, I’m trying my best.” He intently observed the cosmetology license that you were awarded. “I’m so proud of you, _______” He sincerely speaks and you feel your chest tighten. Jungkook recently has had that kind of effect on you. You shyly smile, lowering the certificate and putting it on your kitchen counter.

“How does it feel to be a licensed cosmetologist, ma’am?” He lowers his voice, mockingly speaking while holding his hand out like a reporter. You laugh before speaking. “It feels amazing! I would like to thank my 4 kids at home for being my inspiration, Miss Sally at the Sisters Hospital, my loving family and my dear husband who’s always stuck by my side.” You feed into the act. Something that is normal and just makes sense with you and Jungkook.

Jungkook dramatically gasps. “Husband! I didn’t read any of that before this interview. Too bad, I had set up a whole proposal for you. This was a gig! Now my heart is broken.” He holds his hand over his chest, faking a heartbreak. You pout.

“Awe, I’m so sorry. But you happen to be too late Mr. Jeon. My love for you has died many many years ago. You must move on!” Using your poor british accent makes Jungkook break character. “Your accent is horrible. Never do that shit again.” Your face falls.

“Suck cock and die.” You say and Jungkook laughs. “You’re such a whore, i’ll do all of that later. But is that it?” You furrow your eyes brows as you stand your up phone against your purse on the counter, turning around to reach in the fridge to grab the carton of strawberry lemonade. “Is what it?” You ask but Jungkook is too focused on your ass to respond. You swiftly turn back around catching him looking.

“Eyes up here, cowboy!” You shout, snapping your fingers at the camera. He raises his hands as if surrendering. “My bad. You know, men.” He shrugs, one hundred percent unashamed.

“Yeah, yeah. What were you talking about?” He falls open as he tries to remember what he was talking about before he fell into a trance. “Oh yeah!” You raise a brow.

“Was that all you got in the mail?” He asks and you furrow your brows. Confused on why he would be asking that because no one really cares about mail. “No, I got other stuff but that was the first thing I saw and then I immediately called you.” He nods quietly before carding a hand through his raven hair. It was styled much different from the first time you saw him. Perfectly layered, shaping his face with very precise curls at the ends, the back falling into a mullet. He looks amazing.

“Hello?!” He screams through the phone. You hum in shock, not realizing that you were staring at him. “I said check your mail.” You furrow your eyebrows once again. “Why do you want me to check my mail so badly?” He groans, pulling the phone close to his face. “Just check the fucking mail.”

You roll your eyes before walking over to your mail. “Don’t get shot, JK!” You scream at him from across the room and you hear a faint giggle from him coming from your phone. You walk back over to the counter, setting down a couple of packages and a few envelopes.

He makes you go through all of it in front of him. You were beginning to grow frustrated at his lack of communication and context. Not understanding why he suddenly took interest in your mail. You finally make it to one of the packages and you freeze when you read the box.

From your best friend, to you. — JK

You gasp before looking back at the man on your phone screen. The goofy smile on his face makes you wish you can jump through the screen and lather him down with hugs and kisses.

“You fart! What did you send me?!” You scream out and Jungkook tries to maintain a poker face. “Open the box.” You can’t control the huge smile on your face as you take your keys to eagerly tear the box apart.

Inside is a camera with a note on it The same camera Jungkook uses for filming. “You’re gonna need this for what’s at the bottom.” You read the note aloud. Your heart is racing so fast at the well thought out gift and you aren’t even halfway through. Underneath the camera is a shirt that reads, “I love Jungkook.”

You glare at the man through the screen and he laughs. “Awe, you do? You really mean it?” He can’t even keep a straight face, dying laughing at how unserious he is. “I’m not wearing this.” You lie. You would wear this everyday if you could remember to wash it.

“Whatever, just keep going.” You roll your eyes before diving back into the box. Underneath that is envelope. You pick up the envelope at the bottom of the box and open it. There’s a card inside and what seems to be a well written letter inside. You look at the camera. “Can I read this out loud?” Jungkook closes his eyes as he nods and you begin reading.

“Dear _______, from the very first day I met you there wasn’t a day I didn’t think of you. Our friendship is something I hold dearly to my heart and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Usually around this time of the year I’d be depressed or stressed out in my room wondering what the fuck I’m doing with my life. But you’ve kept my mind busy. Always making sure to encourage and support me when I can’t do the same for myself. You make me happy and I always try to do the same for you although I am conscience that I may fall short in that category at times. My intentions are always good.

You always thank me— saying things like, ‘I changed your life’ and that you have better going opportunities for yourself because of me. Because of that day. I always tell you that you deserve it and I truly mean it. You deserve every bit of happiness that comes your way. But what I really need to tell you is how you changed my life. Life is not what it appears to be through the screen and behind the scenes I was really struggling. You inspired me to keep pushing forward and made me realize that my goals are possible. You do that a lot. Inspire others. Whether you notice it or not or believe it. I don’t know what kind of mindset I’d have right now if it wasn’t for meeting you that day— so thank you. Now for the real surprise! A surprise I’ve been dying to get to you and I know I’m going to be going crazy until I know you’ve received this. I miss you so much and I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you do as well. Let’s change that…”

You hiccup as you finish reading the letter. Tears streaming down your brown cheeks that carries a reddened undertone. Jungkook laughs horrendously at you as you cry from the words Jungkook poured out into your letter. “I totally did not expect you to cry.” He says in between laughter, holding onto his stomach for dear life.

“I didn’t even know you could read, let alone write.” You say, joining in with the laughter as you wipe away your tears. Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Don’t make me take it all back.” He says and you shake your head. You’d never forget a word that was written in this letter. Impossible. “What do you mean let’s change that? I hope you don’t mean this phone call, this was absolute hell Jungkook.” He laughs, fluffing his hair out. “No, you devil. Flip the page.” He says and you raise your brows. You weren’t even aware that there was a second page. But when you do. You nearly throw the card because of what taped to it.

“What the fuck!” You scream and Jungkook even flinches. Covering your face as more tears fall down your eyes. Jungkook awkwardly look at you not really knowing if that was a good reaction or not.

“D— do you like it or…?” He trails off. You drop your hands from your face to check and see if he’s being for real.

“Are you kidding me?! You got me a ticket to fucking South Korea— what do you mean, ‘do you like it?’ I fucking love it!” He smiles and leave to get a tissue to blow your running nose. When you come back you find him sitting in his gaming chair.

“Thank you,” you mutter. Your voice is coarse from all of the crying and screaming. Jungkook smiles at you once he notices your back. Even after crying he still thinks you’re absolutely stunning. He can’t wait for you to be by his side in person.

“Thank me by packing a bag.”

You fan yourself at full tilt, sweat forming on your forehead, ruining your perfectly laid edges. The black baseball cap and mask that covered half of your face seems to be collecting heat for later. You roll your heavy blue luggage behind you as you exit the Incheon International Airport.

As you exit, the bright sun beams over you. Immediately, you remove the cap and mask, stuffing it inside the side poket of your purse. You look around the busy streets trying to find the familiar man. Within seconds you see him. That tall, raven haired, bubble nosed, doe eyed, breathtaking man. Who’s currently running across the street, arms up in the air, smiling from ear to ear like a lunatic.

You can’t even get your insult out before he nearly knocks the wind out of you, engulfing you into a big hug. You stumble over your feet but Jungkook makes sure to keep you upright. He picks you up in his big, strong arms, spinning you around out of pure excitement. “_______, are you real?” You laugh at him, smacking his arms to let you down.

“You ask me am I real after picking me up? That’s usually how people get the cops called on them.” You joke and he glares at you. “Yeah, you’re real.” He says, dissembling a disappointed tone before walking away and you slap his back, following him to his car.

The drive to his house from the airport is short of two hours. The two of you catch up on lost time, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Jungkook has the whole weekend planned out for the two of you. Lots of sightseeing and lots of streaming. You couldn’t help but be excited because knowing Jungkook and his energy, it’s bound to be a crazy productive time.

“Can you just tell me at least one thing? It’s just one thing— I’m sure you have tons of shit planned for today.” You whine and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I told you that we’d be streaming.”

“We were gonna do that regardless of the plans!” Jungkook looks at you once he’s made a stop at the red light. He forgets what he was going to say when he looks at how sunkissed your face is. The sun seems to be doing wonders today. Jungkook always found himself stuck on your ethereal beauty. He can’t even put in words how hypnotic you are. One glance at you made him feel like he’s somewhere over the moon, Jungkook sometimes have to remind himself that he shouldn’t feel this way. Not towards a friend. But fuck— look at the way the your skin is basking in the sunlight! He just want to take a bite out of you and—

“Would stop staring at me and drive please? The light is green.” Your brows furrow at the man who seems to be in a trance while staring at your face. Not the first time and you doubt it’ll be the last. Jungkook reluctantly eyes the road again, stepping on the gas.

“Wow, you pick random people off of the ground and have a staring problem. Do you do that with everyone or just me?” There’s a pause. The silence is loud. Only the sound of the music floods the car.

“You wanna get something to eat real quick?” He changes the subject. You let out a little snicker before saying that you aren’t hungry. The silence in the car maintains and easily shifts into a comfortable silence. You take the opportunity to observe his side profile.

Noticing so many things that you hadn’t during those few hours two months ago. Things that the facetime call hadn’t even picked up. Mindlessly, you run a hand through his hair. Playing in his soft, raven, layered curls. Collecting his hair in your grip, you hold it on the top of his hair, creating a messy ponytail. You notice the tan line on his neck.

“You have a tan?!” You shout, making the man flinch at the sudden volume change. “Yes… did you have to scream?” He glances at you briefly, eyes widened, before adverting his eyes back on the road ahead. Dropping your grip from his hair you take a moment to observe his freshly tanned skin.

“I just notice,” you hum.

“You look good.” You add, nonchalantly and you see him trying to hide the goofy smile forming on his face. You laugh. “What?! You do.” You insist and he nods his head with a downturned smile. You find it real ironic that he’s flustered after constantly being so cocky over the phone with you.

“Whatever.” He speaks lowly, scratching his eyebrow. Smiling up at him, you look at him in awe. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re not being all cocky.” You tilt your head to the side, purposely teasing the man. Stopping at yet another red light, he takes the time to smirk at you.

“If you want to suck my dick, just say that.” Your smile drops, face scrunching up in disgust.

“You make me sick.”

“Welcome!” Jungkook dramatically says, arms wide open, doing his awful impersonation of Cory Kenshin. You raise your brow as your friend continues to dance his way through the apartment, completely unimpressed.

You kick off your shoes at the entryway before stepping inside of the luxurious apartment. Jungkook does a little twirl in his black socks before ending it with a star pose. You can’t help but laugh at the obnoxious performance, shaking your head as he breathes heavily in his pose. “Esta es mi casa!” Your eyebrows furrow before sighing in defeat, walking past the man as you make your way the large island in the kitchen.

“I see your Spanish sucks just bad as your performance.” He sends you a glare before walking over to you. “Good thing I’m not here for either of those things.” You say before clapping your hands together. So,” Jungkook raises a brow as your eyes shift left to right. “Where’s your room?”

The notorious smirk returns and fluffs his hair. “Damn, you just got here and you already trying to get me in bed.” He says smugly, stepping closer to you as he looks you up and down. You would try to act all disgusted like you usually dissemble but the way he’s towering over you is making you a bit weak in the knees.

You stagger your way past him before he could come any closer. For some reason, when you two planned for you to stay in this tall, wealthy, tatted up, gym rat’s home for the weekend there was never any thoughts that this might be a problem. But now that you’re here, in an apartment alone with him. You can’t help but realize that this might be a problem.

Shaking the thought, you focus on the current problem: you can’t find his room. You enter the random door down a random hall and it leads you to the gym set up he has. Curiously, you observe the room, looking at the excessive amounts of weights and machinery.

“Found my room yet?” You jump at the sudden voice, turning around just to get towered over by the man once again. “Can you stop doing that.” You frustratedly say.

“Stop doing what?”

“Standing over me!” Your brows crease together as you look up at him. His hair hangs over his forehead as his dark eyes bore into yours. “Can’t help it if you’re short.” He battles and you scoff at the comment. “I’m not even that much shorter than you, you’re just doing it on purpose— move!” You attempt to push him away from you but he doesn’t budge. Not even a little step back. Not even an inch. Your hands placed on his chest— more so on his pecks. You can feel how firm they are. If only you could just squeeze them, just a tiny bit you—

“Having fun?” He asks, smirking down at you for what seems like the umpteenth time since you’ve landed in South Korea. Your hands are burning and so is your face. You’re absolutely right. This is gonna be a problem.

“Fuck the room, I’m gonna unpack in the kitchen.”

Eventually, Jungkook helps you bring your belongings in the room you’ll be sleeping in after you carefully folded them on the island.

His apartment is not what you had imagined at all. Sure you had seen a few glimpses of it during facetime calls but there was no full house tour. His home is very neat and capacious, everything very minimalistic. White flooring, walls, countertops, ceilings. Topped off with all black furniture throughout the whole apartment. Honestly, it’s hard to go wrong with that. Did you mention it was clean?

Jungkook gave you the overall tour of the house before the two of you settled in his (much anticipated) room to start streaming. The stream was fun to say the least. Highly energetic, as expected from the popular spunky streamer. You answered a lot of questions and played a few games.

What wasn’t expected was all of the comments shipping you and Jungkook together.

Tons of comments flooded in— all types of ship names and theories of your relationship. ‘An alleged friendship’, they called it. You were too flustered to even respond to them so Jungkook would entertain it by constantly teasing you. Jungkook ended the stream with his usual outro. Of course not without letting the viewers know that you’ll be back to streaming in a few hours. Attending to all of the things Jungkook has planned for you two to do today.

You sit on the gaming chair next to Jungkook, leg bouncing up and down. Something that started out as a question has led to a small argument. Over something so ineffable, you can’t even explain it to yourself without getting conflicted.

“How are you not seeing this from my point of view?” You question (hypocritically), growing frustrated with your friend who is more confused than anything. Because why does it matter if his fans think you two are dating?

“I don’t even know what we’re arguing about right now. It’s not a big deal, _______.” He reaches out to grab your hands in attempt to calm you down, but you quickly pull back. He sighs in defeat. Leaning back in his chair.

“It is though.” You say with less agitation, fiddling with the ends of your braids that rests on your lap, quickly growing tired of the back and forth.

“Enlighten me.” Jungkook perks up, leaning forward in his chair. The whole situation has you flustered and now you regret even saying anything to the man who is now too close for comfort. “Because,” you advert your eyes away from him, looking at the streaming monitor. “You entertaining it will make them start thinking that we’re actually dating and we’re not.” You explain, face as stoic as you can manage. You hear a shift in his movement before turning to look at him again. His arms crossed over his chest.

“Would that be so bad?” He says, seemingly a little offended. You furrow your brows in confusion, not sure what he’s getting at. “Would what be so bad?”

“Dating me,” he emphasizes and you can literally feel your heart sink. Feeling as if you’ve just dropped ninety degrees on a deadly roller coaster. “You’ve been talking as if I’m the fucking plague or something. Why is it so bad that people think we’re dating _______, hm?” He tilts his head after his interrogation. You remain silent. Scared you might say something stupid if you talk.

“Am I not attractive to you? Or, you think I’m frontin’ for my streams—”

“What are you trying to get at here?!” You shake your head in confusion. The roles have quickly changed. Now Jungkook is the one frustrated and you can’t be anymore lost than what you are right now.

“Nothing, obviously!” He stands up, walking over to the large windows in his room. His back facing you as he interests himself with the view outside. You hesitantly approach him, standing not too far behind him as you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s none of that. That’s not—” You pause and his shoulders rises then falls before he turns around to face you. “Can you ever see yourself being in a relationship with me?” He rips the bandage off, tired of beating around the bush.

The question sends a funny little twirl to your tummy. It’s not your first time hearing the familiar question. Having heard it from a few friends several times every time you mentioned the name of your distant friend.

Hearing the same question— out of Jungkook’s mouth now, is totally different. It indicates that he himself has thought about it. What it’d be like if the two of you were together. But the same response stands. “We— you know— I haven’t really… thought about it.” You stammer over your words. Feeling slightly intimidated under his gaze.

“I mean, I do find you attractive— I have eyes for god’s sake. I enjoy talking to you and… all that good stuff.” Jungkook watches you as you sort through your thoughts. His eyes flickering back and forth between yours and your plump lips. “I’m not really in touch with my emotions, like I can be really oblivious at times.” You speak lowly, standing confounded by this whole interaction.

There’s never been a moment in time where you found yourself falling victim to a guy. Not loosing your virginity until your college days— even those encounters were filled with nothing other than pure lust. While everyone else was busy having crushes and dating, you focused on your future. You however aren’t oblivious to the fact that your body reacts differently while around your so called friend. But you never thought anything of it really— the man is hot! Anyone who has a beating pulse could say that much. Figuring that the tall dreamy man is simply just too hot to handle, you brush it off. Now as you stand helplessly, spotlight on you, you try to remember those feelings and what they could mean.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is stuck. Again. He can’t even help it and he doesn’t try to fight it anymore.

You’re gorgeous— and he has no clue as to what you just said even though his eyes never leave your tempting lips. You notice how the silence floods the room, creating an intense tension between the two of you. As mentioned before, oblivion fills you and before you can say anything to break the silence, Jungkook beats you to it.

“I’m about to do something and if you want me to stop, I give you all permission to slap me.” His words are rushed and he doesn’t give you the time to speak, scared of what might fall out of your mouth. His hands gently take hold of your face before his lips meet yours.

Kissing you. Jungkook is kissing you. You process the sudden action rather slowly. His soft lips move against yours as you hear the boisterous sound of your heart drumming in your ears.

Wait… Jungkook is kissing you?

Said man is left with a stinging pain to his cheek, his hand abruptly lifting to hold the reddened flesh. His eyes widen as he comes to terms with the fact you just slapped him. Well, he did say you could. He honestly just didn’t think you would act on it. You whisper out a small “sorry”, feeling horrible for hitting him despite the authorized permission he gave you and Jungkook is unable to look you in your eyes, mood gone pensive.

He figures he’s gotten his answer but stands corrected once you wrap your arms around his neck, feverishly placing your lips on his. There was a feeling of absence— emptiness after you not so lightly smacked him away. Now that your lips are interlaced with his again and that rapid sound of your heartbeat is drumming in your ears again, your fingers scavenging through the curly mullet. You think you understand. Understand that you might be a bit smitten with the highly energetic streamer. Highly energetic and talented with his mouth, you must say. His hands travels to your waist, the crop top your sporting allowing him feel the smooth of your skin under his touch.

“Wait.” He murmurs against your lips before pulling away. Heavy breathing fills the bed room. You look at him with much desperation in your eyes. Desperate for the sweet taste of his lips curled around yours. He prays for the good lord to give him strength. Sighing, he manages to find his self control. “I really do like you _______ and as much as I enjoy kissing you, I need to know your intentions.” He says, fingers tracing shapes on your waist.

“I— I think I like you too.” You respond, sounding more like a question than an answer. However, that’s not good enough for Jungkook. He needs to know that you like him and you want him— it doesn’t matter if it’s to the same extent that it is for him. Just something to let him know that you’re invested in him because he’s damn sure invested in all of you.

“Okay, I’m not gonna break this down into simple terms because you’re not thirteen but—”

“Good because you’d be considered a pedophile if I were.” You tilt your head sarcastically and he shakes his head refusing to even respond to that comment. “If I were to go out tonight and find a woman— and hook up with her,” he emphasizes the last part. “Would you be mad— or feel any type of way?”

With no delay, you flick a brow and slightly cock your head back. Utterly offended. “Why the hell would you go and do that?” The response is so bitter, you almost question whether or not it came out or your mouth. Jungkook’s face of anticipation is sent flying and a huge toothy smile is etched across his face, gushing with relief. “Okay,” he whispers. You close your eyes, shaking your head.

“Okay?” You ask and he nods, the bunny toothed smile shines on. You beckon him to further explain his thoughts and is ultimately caught off guard when he grabs your arms instead. Wrapping them around his neck before lifting you off the ground, his hands grasping the back of your thighs.

“What are you doing?” You gasp out, heart pounding rapidly as you feel a spark run through your veins. So abnormal, you never felt anything like this before. You haven’t even been in this man’s presence a full 24 hours yet and somehow the problem you were previously worried about, doesn’t appear all that consequential. Not when the solution has been presented.

“I’ve waited so long just to hold you in my arms. And now that my confession that I had planned for today is completely ruined—”

“You were going to confess?” You spew out, interjecting his words for the umpteenth time today. “Why you’re full of questions, aren’t you?” He teases before placing a soft kiss onto your cheek. Traveling with you in his arms, you close your eyes while he places slow, tender kisses against your neck. Gently placing you on the cool, welcoming bed. Your body sinks into the resilient foam, feeling snug and warmth when Jungkook’s large frame slightly hovers over you.

“It didn’t take me long to realize that I have feelings for you. Now, I don’t know how that cute little mind of yours work.” He slightly snickers when you cutely purse your lips, tucking a lone braid behind your ear. Looking at you with much adulation in his eyes, you can’t help but cotton into. “But I do know that I will do everything I can for you to feel at least half the amount happiness you give me.”

Reaching your hands out, your thumbs caress his cheeks, brushing over the faint scar. Jungkook shivers under your feathery touch. “I do.” Your thumb slowly travels down to his swollen lips. Fiddling with the silver lip ring that decorates the bottom of the pair. “You make me happy. I’ve never felt this way before.” Jungkook leans down, his knee sinking down further into the bed, to capture your lips again.

Your hands’ fervently roaming the other’s body. Jungkook shutters at the feeling of your hands on his body when they travel their way under his white crew neck. The taste of your coconut flavored chapstick making him dizzy. His lips leave yours, going to strip away his shirt. Exposing his toned muscles and sleeve of tattoos that you’ve yet to fully appreciate and admire.

You let out a shaky breath underneath the lusty muscular man. “You’re not really gonna hook up with someone else right?” You thoughtlessly ask. There’s no way he’s going to present this to any other woman. Not after this. Not when you’re ready to bow down to kiss his feet and willingly fold yourself like a pretzel for him.

The buff man nearly chokes on his laughter. “No, _______” That ethereal smile beams back at you. He leans down to place another kiss on your plumped lips. “I only want you… only you.” He confesses, followed with open mouthed kisses against your neck. Your eyes fall close. Jungkook’s hands make their way under your crop top, cupping your rounded breast through the thin layer of your bra.

You wince at the pressure put on your sensitive nipples. He trails kiss down your neck to your chest, slowly lifting your shirt and you help him, breaking the kiss for no more than a couple of seconds to pull the clothing over your head.

The two of you are like two horny teenagers, desperately going at it. You’ve never been one to crave sex— it’s enjoyable, sure. But you can also go long ways without having any sexual interactions. You can and you have.

However, with Jungkook, you need him. You crave him. Suddenly, after all those dickless years you can no longer stand strong. At least not under him. The deprivation of his touch is killing you even though he’s right above you passionately caressing and kissing all over your body. It’s not enough. If there was a way to be in his skin, you’d most certainly figure it out and act on it effective immediately.

You waste no time, eagerly snatching all of your clothes off, the clothing being discarded every which way across his spacious bedroom. You let out needy whimpers as Jungkook glides his dick up and down your wet folds, his long length laying flat, mushroom tip repeatedly brushing pass your clit, stimulating you further.

“You’re so wet baby.” Jungkook grunts relishing in the way his dick slides so easily across your slippery cunt. “Stretch me out, Kook.” You breathlessly say, clenching your tight pussy around nothing, feeling the need of his length to fill you up.

“I should prep you first. I don’t want to hurt you.” Showing uncertainty behind his soft words that makes your stomach shake. You’ve never been one for masochism, but ironically enough, the thought of Jungkook tearing your pussy up, stretching your tight cunt makes you even more aroused, if even possible. You let a low moan out at the idea and Jungkook’s dick twitches.

“No please— just fuck me. Need you now.” There’s no delay, Jungkook is more than delighted to fulfill your desires. He strokes his girthy length, slick from your loads of arousal before dipping his dick slowly into your opening. A load grunt leaves Jungkook’s mouth once the mere tip of his dick slips in. He can already feel the pressure of your tight cunt around him.

Your cunt engulfs his member as it slowly disappears in the depths of your core. Covering your mouth with your hand to diminish the sound of your loud lewd moans. Once his dick is fully inside, he lowers himself to plant a kiss your lips. Light and feathery and full of care. “Are you okay?” He asks, still feeling a bit perturbed. His eyes laced with concern.

You weakly smile at him, initiating another kiss. “I’m all good.” You say, which instantly satisfies the buff man. He quickly pecks your lips before lifting up again. His hands caress your thighs as he gently separates them.

Conjoined moans feel the room as Jungkook slowly stretches you out. His thick, long dick penetrating into your cunt. The sounds being released out of your mouths’ and the squelching sound of your juices lapping around Jungkook’s dick is music to your ears. After a hand full of thrusts you beckon Jungkook to go faster. Jungkook, being the obedient man he is, thrashes into your cunt. His pace quickens all while deeply infiltrating your leaking cunt.

Your arousal creating a large wet spot on the silk black comforter, lathering the inside of your thighs. “Fuck, you feel so good around my dick— mm. So tight and wet, so fucking beautiful.” He lowly curses before grabbing onto your hand. Your body jerks forward as Jungkook continues to fuck into you. He bite his lip, trying to stay strong and not cum right away. But the way the warmth of your pussy is hugging his length, it’s not so easy.

“K— Kook, shit right there.” You grab onto your boob with your free hand for moral support because you feel like you’re going insane. Your pussy clenches around his dick sending him groaning. “I’m gonna cum, fuhh!” Jungkook hastily nods his head before letting go of your hand, going to rub his thumb against your slippery clit. Your back arches against the bed as he fucks into you so good, overstimulated from the amounts of pleasure.

“Cum on my dick, _______.” Jungkook grabs your waist, pounding into your pussy harder. Which is followed by a trail of incoherent whimpering and whining. You let out a loud scream as you release your load around Jungkook’s length.

The sounds of your pussy squelching around Jungkook’s dick as he rides out your high grows louder and soon he’s due for his own release.

“Fuck!” Quickly sliding out of your cunt, he strokes his length in haste before loads of thick white semen drags out onto your stomach.

Heavy breathing crowds the room as you try to recuperate from the previous event. Jungkook gets up from his bed without a word, leaving the room. After a little over a minute, he returns with a towel and a pack of baby wipes in hand. Coming to clean you up. It’s impossible to hide your growing smile whilst Jungkook silently and intently cleans you up.

“After care goes crazy.” You jokingly comment and Jungkook tries to remain stoic but fails miserably when he ends up laughing. “You can’t take anything serious, can you?” He shakes his head, smile still holding up.

“I take you seriously.” You lowly speak. Jungkook shoots you a smile before going to recover your clothes off the floor, throwing the towel in the garbage. He slips his boxer briefs back on and tosses his shirt to you, wanting you to wear it and you do. The room is silent. A little too quiet for comfort and you don’t want to grow accustomed to the silence so you grab Jungkook’s wrist to stop him from cleaning.

“Sit down.” You say softly, but the tone is simply a facade. Jungkook is well aware that you’re demanding attention so he cooperates. “I want this.” Simply put, but very self explanatory. Jungkook lets out a sigh, staring into your eyes intently. “I wonder what could’ve possibly changed your mind.” He sarcastically speaks, reflecting on the irony of the situation. Your hands wrap around his neck, fiddling with the hair on the nape of his neck, tempted to pull him into another longing kiss.

But you don’t. You don’t need Jungkook thinking you’re only saying this because your dick crazed. Despite your emotional awakening happening prior to having sex with Jungkook, you know that there’s something else there in your heart. Your interest and liking for Jungkook resides outside of sexual attraction and interactions. His meek attitude and sexy figure is just the cherry on top. There’s a connection between you two that makes you inexplicably happy— a sense of security.

“I’m new to this whole relationship process— never been in one my entire life. Everyone speaks of finding the perfect person, their person. And if it’s anything like how people have explained… I think it’s you.” He watches as you stare lovingly into his bambi eyes.

“It’s me?” He whispers, his breath lightly nuzzling your lips that are just inches away from his. You hum, face etched in mischief.

“What is that you said to me? Wha— would you be mad if I hooked…”

“Up with another woman, yes I did say that.” He finishes, lowering his head to hide the growing smile. “And if I recall correctly,” you dipping your head as Jungkook dodges teasing looks. “When I asked you if you’d actually do that, you said no.” You catch his face in your palms forcing him to look at you. The bulbs of his face are bright red and his dimples are deeply inscribed in his risen cheeks.

“Only you.” Repeating the words he vowed to you earlier. You nod your head, uncontrollably squeezing his cheeks in your hands. “Okay well the same goes for me.” Quickly placing a kiss on his forehead before speaking again. “Only you. You have my word.” Jungkook shyly nods, refusing to look you in the eyes still. You giggle at his oddly shy behavior, cracking out and amused “what”.

“Kissing me on my forehead and shit— feels domestic as fuck.” You release a loud laugh in his face to which Jungkook joins in, unable to control himself, your laugh being contagious to the man. Pinning Jungkook on the bed, you smother his face with kisses.

The scene is something you yourself would often cringe at when witnessing other couples. Hypocritically, you bask in the laughter that escapes yours and Jungkook’s mouth. Revel in the way Jungkook’s strong hands grab at your waste when your lips curls around his. This is something you can get used to. You never want to stop feeling this way ever. And you have a feeling that as long as Jungkook is by your side, you’ll feel this way for a very long time.

On top of the world.

“We’re behind schedule.” Jungkook mutters against your lips and you strain your neck to peek at the clock on the nightstand beside the bed. You are in fact behind schedule. “Benny will be here any minute now.” He says, grabbing your arm so he can roll from underneath your hold. Leaving the room to put his clothes on and use the restroom.

You also get up to put your clothes back on, fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror. When Jungkook returns he sneaks behind you and circles his arms around his waist, his chin atop of your head. His tatted hand traveling just under your breast. “You’re so gorgeous, _______.” He whispers softly. You hum with your eyes closed as Jungkook pushes his clothed crotch against your ass. His mouth latching onto your neck, being sure not to leave any marks. “Kook,” you say once you feel his hand dip underneath your shirt, going to cup your tit.

“Hmm?” He continues to grind his growing bulge against your thick ass. You tightly squeeze your thighs together, feeling the familiar sudden sensation between your legs. “No, we have to go.” You shake out of his hold, turning around to see the faint pout on his lips. But soon reluctantly agrees.

“Benny’s outside.” You say, looking out the window as Jungkook hurriedly grabs everything he needs. He jogs over to you with a bright smile on his face. Pecking your lips which takes you by surprise. “Got everything.” You nod your head and the two of you stalk down the stairs. Jungkook smacks your ass before you open the door, gasping, you turn around with a warning glare. He smirks down at you.

“You better behave once we HOP ON THE STREAM.”

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