#because??? guess what??? they acknowledged and fixed it

[sandersea]

coming out of my cage (retirement from the aftg fandom) specifically to defend 🌈crate to the death 😤

[ender1821]

im a child of divorce

[michi-chelle-draws]

there, fixed the ending cg

[wcters]

𝟮𝟰 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 + 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗥𝗬 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗥𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗘

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k+

summary: your view of the behind the scenes and video of “i ate and trained like lando norris for 24 hours”

warnings: swearing, some pda, sexual innuendos, flirting | here’s some redemption for lando, this may suck because i need to get better at writing transitions, please watch the video titled in the summary for context 😚

You were awoken by the feeling of a finger grazing your hip. You mumbled something incoherent and went to go back to sleep when you felt a kiss on your cheek. “Time to get up.” You heard your boyfriend whisper from behind you. “Go away.” You mumbled, still not fully awake and angry that you had been woken up. “Unless you want to be caught walking around in just a shirt and underwear in front of a camera, you need to get up.”

You let out a groan and rubbed your eyes as you remembered what day it was. Lando was filming a Quadrant video with Ethan and the man who rivalled you in how much you love your boyfriend, Morgan ━━ otherwise known as “Angry Ginge”. You and him had a rivalry, though it was just fun and games, and Lando and Morgan make it known a lot. “Fine, fine.” You shooed him away with a movement of your hand and moved to lay on your back as you finally opened your eyes.

When you looked around, you were blessed with the sight of your boyfriends bare back as he changed into a basic hoodie and pants. You let out a wolf whistle and he turned around to face you with a look on his face. “What? Can’t appreciate my wonderful boyfriend?” He laughed and turned around to continue. “As long as I can do the same to my girlfriend.”

The two of you fell into a quiet conversation of how the day was going to go as you willed yourself to get up from your extremely comfy bed to get ready. “What time is it anyway?” You had a habit of keeping your phone plugged in in the living room because even though your boyfriend was a multimillionaire, the plug in on your side of the bed was shitty and both of you don’t bother to get it fixed. You didn’t mind it too much though. When Lando wasn’t away at races, he was here with you and he’d let you know the time. When he wasn’t, you’d use the plug in on his side because you sleep on his side when he’s away anyway.

“Around 7:15. Wanted to give you time to shower and put makeup on if you needed to.” He replied, heading out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. You hummed in acknowledgment even though he couldn’t hear you and you finished getting dressed before heading to the bathroom to do your skincare and put makeup on. By the time you were done doing that and made your way into the kitchen it was 7:45. As Lando got prepared for filming, you spent the rest of the time cleaning up things around the house. It wasn’t messy, per se, but you wanted the house to look good for the guests and the boys. You know both Morgan and Ethan wouldn’t care about some coffee mugs left on the table or some blanket strewn about, but you didn’t care.

As you unplugged your phone to check the time and see if you had any missed messages the doorbell rang. You put your phone down as to not be rude. You had met Ethan before, but you’d never met Ginge in person before. You heard the door open and greetings being said before there are footsteps and the four figures come into view. You hug Ethan while telling him you missed him and hoped he’s doing good before making your way over to Ginge. “Y/n.” He said as if a brawl is about to start. You play along, “Morgan.” There’s silence as the camera films the encounter before you hug and greet each other. “It’s nice to meet you in person.” You tell him as you pull away. “You two, I guess.” He joked. You roll your eyes.

“Well, welcome in.” Lando interrupted as he gestures to the apartment. You lead the boys through a tour of the house as you point out different rooms ━━ and you add on embarrassing stories about Lando that make him blush.

“He takes up more space with his trophy’s than with you,” Ginge teased as he looked at the trophies on the side table in the living room. Lando opened his mouth to respond but you do it first. “At least we have trophies to put out? What do you have? The award for most annoying person ever?” Morgan started to rant and you laugh as you lean into Lando’s body. “We hang photos elsewhere.” You answer seriously this time. “All the embarrassing ones stay in the camera roll though. I wear a bonnet to bed and Lando thinks it’s hilarious and takes pictures every time. I’ve tried to get him to wear one as it’s good at protecting your hair, but he claimed he couldn’t sleep with it.” “I couldn’t!” “I’d pay to see that.”

Morgan played with the box and ended up breaking it ━━ you know how to fix it, you’re prepared, and you all make conversations as they set up the “interview” spot in the living room and film them. After that, you all make your way to the kitchen. “That better not be what we’re eatin’.” Ginge exclaimed as Lando opened the door to the fridge. “This is your breakfast, my friend.” Lando smiled and pointed to the containers. Morgan turned to you, “are you eating that?” You shook your head and let out a ‘no’. “That’s for him and you guys, I get my own food.” You tell them. “I want whatever that is because it has to be better than this.”

“This might be one of the best breakfasts you’ll ever have.” Lando told them. “Mate, that looks like you ate reakfast and then threw it up.” Ethan joked. “It’s actually not bad,” you interrupted as you started to make your breakfast, “I’ve had it before. It’s quite good, although I’m not a fan of cinnamon.” “It has cinnamon in it?” Ginge asked. “Apple, cinnamon, and pecan.” Lando answered. They chat about the texture and make fun of it as you finish making your breakfast.

“You normally up at this time?” Morgan questioned Lando. “Yeah.” “What about you y/n?” “Depends on the day,” you reply, “I’m normally not up this early but with travelling and work it changes.” “What time do you go to bed?” Morgan continued. “Depends.” “On what?” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “If they’re going at it, dirty bastards.” You laugh and Lando blushes at that. “It’s not always nighttime.” You winked at them before heading into the dining room and turning on your computer. You worked from home which made it easier to visit Lando at races. Most of them you went to, but sometimes you had to stay home as you had an important meeting or had to head into your works headquarters. You wanted to take the time you had right now to finish sending some emails and editing work before the day officially started.

There was some more conversation before Lando kissed your head and let you know that they were going to go do some training. A couple minutes passed before you were done replying to emails and things. “Y/n?” Lando called out to you from the workout room. “What?” You called back as you got up and closed your laptop. “Where are the workout bands?” “I think they’re in the bedroom.” You crossed your arms as you made your way into the hallway facing the room. “How have the workout bands made it to the bedroom?” Ethan asked out loud. “I do yoga in there because I like to watch my show while I do it,” you answered, “always so dirty minded Ethan.” You shake your head with a smile on your face.

Lando comes back with them and they continue with what they were doing before, obviously with some jokes ━━ especially about the mirror you have in there ━━ and Ginge “flirting” with your boyfriend. You joined in on some things like the planking and the stretches, but you opted out of most of it. Who could blame you? You preferred to ogle your boyfriend. You did the same when they moved on to the cryotherapy. “You not joinin’ us? Coward.” Morgan teased you as you stood behind the camera. “Mate, I do not need to be in -110 degrees. I didn’t do that full workout.” As they went in, you could hear the jokes and the laughing that was happening in there.

You turned to the camera to speak. “I’ve done that before, and let’s just say I never want to do it again. I felt like my tits were going to fall off. Their reactions are valid.” You told the camera as you knew their footage from inside was going in. When the three minutes were up, you let the boys know and they came rushing out as soon as the door was opened. “Mate, that was freezing.” Ethan said as he came out. “I felt the cold when the door was opened, I can’t imagine how you guys feel,” You laughed, “If you’re still cold when we get back to the house I’ll give you some blankets.”

The boys and you came home around one pm after the cryotherapy and they sat around the dining table as they get introduced to their lunch. You had leftovers from when you went out for dinner a couple days ago so you were eating that. Since this morning, you could tell that the boys were probably going to hate the menu today. You felt a little bad, but also thought it was funny. It was their video idea. You could hear Morgan’s complaining in the kitchen.

“What’s this though?” You hear Ginge ask as you enter the dining room. “Radish.” You answer as you take a peice of chicken from Lando’s bowl and put in your mouth. “Oh, that’s disgusting.” Ginge exclaimed once he puts the radish in his mouth. “I’ll just eat the mango, I’m not having anything else.” Ginge said with a furrow in his brow. “No, eat all of it.” “You can’t force it down my throat. “Here,” you started as you swallowed your bite, “eat what you can and you can have this. It’s still quite healthy but I assume it’s things you like.” You traded your meal with his. “I like those so I’ll eat them.” The camera panned to Lando and his face of disbelief. “I don’t know how you can like that.” Morgan glanced between you and the plate with disgust. You shrugged, “his nutritionist makes good food.” Ethan made a face that obviously says he disagrees and Lando laughs. “How often do you have this?” Morgan asked him as he takes a bit of your food. “About five times a week.” Lando answered, “though sometimes I’ll have leftovers like y/n was.”

“Do you ever get bored of this and think ‘fuck it, I’ll have a pizza’?” Lando laughs and then nods. “All the time.” You revealed to them, “though he’s usually good at sticking with that.” You point to the bowl in front of him. “Does y/n eating regular food make you jealous?” Ethan questioned and you laugh at the choice of words. “Sometimes, but she eats healthy as well so it’s the same level of nutrition and tastes quite similarly.” Lando explained. “Sometimes I’ll sneak him a pizza though.” You reveal as you smirk. “Hey, I do that to myself all the time.” Morgan joked.

There was some quiet conversation as the boys started their game of Jenga before Ginge spoke up. “How’d you two meet?” He asked as Ethan was trying carefully to get a brick out. “I was actually doing a media internship with McLaren in 2021. I have to be honest, I had no idea who Lando was. I had heard of Lewis a couple times but I wasn’t a big F1 fan. McLaren was just an opportunity that popped up and I took it.” You explained to everyone. “So, officially ending the rumours, you’re not a gold digger?” Morgan asked as a joke. You hummed, “I can’t say that.” You laugh. “I’m just kidding, no, I’m not. We made a deal that we half most things but he just gets to the bill before me most of the time. I need to work on being quicker.” The camera panned to Lando as he ate. “I like to spoil her.” “I’d let you spoil me Lando.” Ginge winked as the brunette. You jokingly glare at him. “I’m sorry, he just loves me too much.” He continued to say, “he’s just afraid to admit it.” “Oh yeah, I’m sure.” You nod slowly.

“How did you ask her out?” Ethan asked Lando. He put a finger to his lips, “it’s a secret.” Because he wouldn’t tell everyone looked at you. “He doesn’t want to tell because it’s embarrassing. I’m not allowed to tell.” You told them the truth. It was. If he just felt it was embarrassing you would’ve told but it really was embarrassing. He had a whole plan of what he was going to do but when I happened he got nervous and fucked it. The boys begged to hear the story. “The only thing I’ll say is I’m surprised I said yes.”

“It was that bad?” Morgan asked in disbelief. “I mean, I knew you were bad at flirting but I didn’t think it was that bad.” Lando blushed and tried it come up with a response. “Even if I knew before he asked me out he was rich, that probably wouldn’t change my chances of saying no.” Both Ethan and Ginge grimaced. “Does Max know?” Ethan then asked. “Nope. No one knows except for me and Lando ━━ and maybe Daniel who might’ve witnessed it.” Lando then jokingly hit you on the back of the head and you knew it was time to stop. You laughed and stuck your tongue out at him.

The next thing that Lando had planned for them was sim racing. He explained how it works and what circuit it was set on before he got on it to set up a baseline for what time they needed to get. “Who do you thinks going to be the best?” Ethan asked you as Lando was in the chair. “I mean . . . Ethan doesn’t even have his license but in that one quadrant video where they tested everyone’s driving skills he did alright,” you answered, “it’s also happening on a screen. I’ve never seen you drive,” you pointed to Morgan, “but I don’t know if I’d trust you.” Ethan gave you a fist bump as the ginger put a hand over his heart. “That wounds me, y/n.” “Just being honest.” You shrugged. “Too honest in my opinion.”

After setting a time and letting Ethan have a practice go, he let the boys know they had to be within 4.5 seconds of his time - having changed it from 10 and then having a mini fight with Ginge. It was Ethan’s turn first at the simulator. He did pretty well in your eyes ━━ besides hitting a cone and sliding off the track. Compared to Ginge, he was excellent. You didn’t know what was happening with Morgan and what he was doing, but you did know it was incredibly funny . . . And you definitely took videos of him freaking out that totally weren’t for blackmail.

After he crashed for the millionth time and you laughing again, he turned his face to you. “Do you want to give it a go then?” He challenge you. “Sure.” You replied, sliding into the seat as he got up. You’d done the sim a few times. Mostly Lando trying to teach you and you not getting it, but other times you’d be bored at the house and try to give it a try. You think you did well with the two times you tried it. You only crashed once and went off a few times, and were only a little better than Ethan. Morgan kept yelling and saying it was clearly rigged and that the software was dogshit.

The day in Monaco ended with going out for dinner and Lando taking the boys out for a helicopter ride. You didn’t know this, but in the final video cut there’d be clips but together of you and Morgan bickering all throughout the video and whenever this would happen, the camera would show either Lando and Ethan with a look on their face. Even though you pretended to not like Morgan, he was a pretty good guy. You had a good time with him and Ethan ━━ especially singing karaoke in the car.

And for anyone’s information, you were definitely forced to get Lightning McQueen crocs against your will.

+ moment featured in morgan’s vlog

You stood at the passenger side of the car with your arms crossed and eyebrow raised. “What?” Morgan asked you. “Why you starin’ at me like that?” “That’s my seat.” You tell him as you make a movement with your head. He makes a face, “you don’t claim seats. And I got here first. In the back you go.” That’s when Lando made his war to the car and into the drivers seat. “That’s her seat, mate.” He told the ginger. He makes the same face as he did before. He shakes his head and gets up, pulling his phone out of his pocket and begins to film. “This is discrimination against the poor. I’m suing you.” You smile at him. “Too bad, I’m his girlfriend, I get the passenger seat.” “You just wait until he dumps you for me, babe. Then you’ll be sorry.” “When that day happens, you can get the story of how he asked me out.”

[hoshifighting]

staff!jeonghan

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, fame problems, paris trip, idol!reader is a sweetheart with her staff team, teasing, hair pulling, makeup smudging hair destroying sex, face slap, paris sex.

staff!jeonghan who started way back when your career was just taking off. you were still fresh, the kind of new that had people curious but not quite sold on the idea of you making it long term. jeonghan wasn’t even supposed to be sticking around. dude was just a freelancer, floating between gigs like it was nothing. hairdresser one week, stylist the next, maybe even photographer’s assistant if he felt like it. didn’t care much either—just did his job, got his check, and dipped.

he was there the first time you came in for a shoot, thinking, oh, here we go again, another idol who doesn’t know shit about shit, and probably treats their staff like trash. honestly, he didn’t expect anything from you. he had his walls up like crazy. you’d been doing this for, what, a hot minute? and you were already getting attention, which just made him think, “yep, this one’s probably the snobby kind. won’t even acknowledge us when she’s walking by.”

but then you went and did the most surprising thing—like blew his expectations out of the water kinda surprise. you saw him—no, not just like saw him, but like saw him. took a minute to actually chat. asked how his day was, if he needed anything while he was running around fixing the stage lights or whatever. you even remembered his name by the end of the first day, which? yeah, idols usually don’t bother with that.

fast forward a couple months, and jeonghan’s still hanging around. he didn’t plan to stay, but something about you changed that. it wasn’t even the work, really. it was more like you made things different for the whole staff—hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, all of them. you had this habit of, like, breaking all the usual rules. you’d bring coffee for everyone in the morning, none of that half-assed, "just for my personal team" bullshit, you made sure everyone was taken care of, because they take care of you as welll.

then there was that time when you randomly called up your manager one day like, "hey, i’m taking everyone out to eat after the shoot." and jeonghan was standing there, trying not to look too surprised, but inside he was like, who the hell does that? especially in this industry where staff usually gets a handshake and a “thanks for your work” at most. while you’re out here throwing cash around to make sure your team is happy. it’s wild.

he remembers the first time you handed out those holiday bonuses. it wasn’t even from the company’s budget either; it was straight up from your own wallet. like, your money. you didn’t even make a big deal about it, just casually handed out envelopes and said, “merry christmas, you guys.” you should’ve seen their faces—everyone was shook, even him, and he doesn’t get surprised that easily. it was one of those moments where the room just, like, collectively inhaled. there was silence, and then someone—probably one of the stylists—goes, “y/n, this is... you didn’t have to...”

and you? you just shrugged, all casual, like it was no big deal. “nah, i wanted to. thank you for taking care of me, you make part of all of this too.” you pointed to the stage.

jeonghan couldn’t even look at you right for a second because it was, like, damn, okay, she’s for real. that was the moment he decided he wasn’t just gonna treat this gig like all the others. working with you? yeah, it felt different. and not in some sappy, fairytale shit kind of way, but in a “maybe there are still people in this industry who aren’t complete assholes” kind of way.

“so you’re sticking around, hannie?” you asked him one day, catching him off guard while he was fixing up your jacket right before a stage performance.

he smirked, his usual cocky, nonchalant self, but there was something softer underneath it. “guess i don’t have a choice. you make it too easy.”

he was your go-to guy now, the one you trusted with everything, from making sure your hair wasn’t fucked up during press tours to giving you a reality check when you were stressing over the dumbest things. and he liked that. he liked being the one you leaned on when you didn’t wanna bother anyone else.

but it was more than that too. you were just different. the way you treated people, the way you made sure everyone around you felt seen, felt valued? it wasn’t fake. it wasn’t for show. it was you. and jeonghan? well, he wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around just for anyone. but for you? yeah, maybe he’d go the long haul.

jeonghan was always there, like a constant shadow that somehow made everything feel lighter instead of heavier. as your career blew up, he didn’t just keep pace—he matched your energy, your needs, every twist and turn that came with your fame. whether it was press tours, backstage chaos, or those ridiculous interviews where some clueless host would try to push your boundaries, he was always ready.

you’d be in the middle of a tv show, mind racing, and then there’d be a subtle shift. jeonghan standing just offstage, watching with a sharp, gaze of his. and it wasn’t like he had to do much—sometimes just a look was enough to let you know he had your back. like that time they tried to switch up your routine last minute, making changes that didn’t sit right with you. you didn’t even need to speak up, though. before you could say a word, he was already stepping in, throwing that effortless, yet somehow intimidating smile toward the team. “nah, we’re sticking with the original plan. my artist doesn’t do changes without notice.”

“your artist,” you’d hear him say that a lot, like a protective label stamped right over you, like you belonged to him—not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel safe. secure.

it wasn’t just about the work either, not even close. jeonghan made the loneliness that came with fame feel less suffocating. that part of fame nobody talks about—the part where you can’t make real friends anymore, where every new person in your life feels temporary, transactional. except him. he was loyal.

when you had those long, grueling days full of photoshoots and interviews and events, and all you wanted was to escape, jeonghan was the one who made sure you still had a piece of normal.

like that one time in paris. you were there for a fashion show, sitting front row with all these industry giants who couldn’t care less about anything but themselves, and jeonghan was right beside you, but afterward, when it was just the two of you, he was the one who dragged you to some random hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street, far from all the cameras and flashing lights, ordering too much food and laughing at how terrible your french was.

“you know, you’re lucky you’ve got me,” he teased, watching you struggle with the menu. “otherwise, you’d be stuck ordering water and bread for the rest of the trip.”

you elbowed him playfully. “i’m just trying to be cultured, okay?”

“sure, sure,” he snickered, but the grin on his face was soft, like he was glad to be there with you. “leave the culture to me.”

he was there on the quieter days too. you’d be at home, no schedule to follow for once, just free. but that freedom? it felt empty when you didn’t have anyone to share it with. jeonghan got that. he’d show up at your place without even needing an invitation, like he just knew when you needed him there. sometimes he wouldn’t even knock. you’d just hear the door click open and his familiar voice, “you better not be working in there.”

you’d laugh, shouting back from wherever you were in the apartment, “i’m not, calm down.”

next thing you knew, he’d be on the floor of your pristine living room, surrounded by lego pieces because, for some reason, that’s what the two of you did on your days off. it was ridiculous, really, two adults crouched over colorful plastic blocks, but it made you feel like a kid again, like before everything got so complicated.

you’d crouch down next to him, watching his hands move, and without thinking, you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. it wasn’t even romaaaantic, more like instinct. jeonghan had this way of making you feel safe, like you didn’t have to be the perfect version of yourself all the time. you could just be you. and hugging him like that, clinging onto him like a koala, it was the only way you knew how to show him just how much he meant to you.

“you’re clingy today,” he murmured, but there was no complaint in his voice, just that familiar teasing.

“you’re soft,” you shot back, squeezing him tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his cologne was subtle but always the same, something that reminded you of quiet, peaceful moments, like this.

he tilted his head a little, catching your eyes “oh, yeah? not what you said last time.”

you puffed your cheeks out, crossing your arms dramatically, the sulk settling in. “i’m done being clingy with you, jeonghan.”

he grinned like he was waiting for that exact reaction. it’s almost like he lived for these moments—when you’d pout and try to act all tough, but really? he knew exactly where this was headed. you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“oh yeah?” he tilted his head, gaze dripping with amusement as he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “you sure about that?”

you tried to hold firm, but the way his voice dropped a little lower, teasing. you shifted your weight, crossing your legs under you on the living room floor, avoiding eye contact. “mmhmm. you’ll see.”

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back and watching you with a glint in his eyes, like he was just waiting for you to crack. “you’re too cute when you sulk, y’know that?”

your heart fluttered, but you bit down on the inside of your cheek, determined to keep up the act. “whatever.”

he moved closer, a hand sliding around your waist, tugging you just enough so that your body leaned into his. “nah, don’t pout, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly against your jaw. “we both know how this ends.”

and he was right. because, every time you tried to act like you were done with him, like you were going to keep your distance, it only ended one way—with you wet underneath him, a needy mess, begging for more.

like that first time in paris. paris had done something to the both of you. it was supposed to be a normal night, just you and him hanging out after the fashion show. nothing special, just another city on the endless list of places you’d been together. but somehow, that night went different. the second the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, you’d scarcely made it through the door before his hands were on you, grabbing, pulling, claiming.

“thought you were gonna keep your distance,” jeonghan had teased as he pressed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, making your knees weak.

you were already panting, feeling the warmness of him beaming off his body. “shut up, hannie.”

he chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, making you gasp. “aww, so cute when you’re needy.”

and fuck, were you needy. by the time he’d pushed you onto the bed, tugging at your clothes, you were already whimpering for him, already soaked.

he’d dragged you to the edge, rough hands all over your body, pulling, squeezing, leaving marks everywhere. your hair had been perfect for the show, all sleek and done up, but that shit didn’t last long. the second he had his fist tangled in it, pulling your head back, it was ruined. thrusting into you from behind, his cock splitting you in half with each brutal thrust. “such a fucking mess.”

you’d tried to keep quiet, biting down on the pillow as your body rocked with every movement, but every time you let out a whiny moan, jeonghan was right there to mock you for it.

“aww, hannie’s being too harsh?” he cooed, as he tries to sound sweet. “hm? poor baby can’t take it?”

you’d only moaned louder, your body trembling as he slapped your ass, the sting making you cry out. he’d leaned down then, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “use your words, sweetheart. tell hannie how bad you want it.”

you couldn’t even speak, just a mess of broken moans and gasps as he kept slamming into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room. and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were right on the edge, that’s when he did it. his hand came up to your face, smudging the glitter from the show as he slapped you—not enough to really hurt. he is a careful guy.

“fuck, y/n, look at you. such a pretty little mess,” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you from behind, relentless. “you gonna come for me? c’mon, baby, let me hear it.”

you whimpered, nodding, your mind spinning as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over, making you roll your eyes, drool, everything u had right of. but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.

“aww, no no no, not yet,” jeonghan cooed, a wicked grin on his face as he turned you onto your back, pushing your legs open wide. “hannie’s not done with you.”

your heart pounded, your entire body aching for release, but you didn’t dare move. he was in control, and you knew better than to push him.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours as he teased you. “too much?”

you shook your head, barely able to get the words out. “n-no… please…”

his smirk widened, that wicked glint in his eyes making you shiver. “please what? gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as you looked up at him, desperate. “please… fuck me…”

“good girl.”

[creamflix]

SHE SAID WHAT?! — gender neutral reader  featuring: nanami kento, choso kamo, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna content warnings: established relationship. workplace venting, mentions of murder, pure fluff & crack — masterlist here ☆

"and then, she just took the credit," you huffed, burrowing deeper into kento’s chest as he absently rubbed slow circles on your back. "like, i’m the one who stayed late, again, but suddenly it’s all her idea? unbelievable."

kento hummed softly, his chin resting atop your head. he had been his usual calm and comforting self, letting you unload the stress of the day without interruption.

"and my manager — useless as always," you continued, gesturing dramatically in frustration. "he didn’t even say anything! just nodded along like a bobblehead and let her steal my work. can you believe that?"

"sounds like your manager has no backbone."

you blinked, tilting your head up to look at him. "you’re… not wrong, but — wait, did you just… agree with me?"

he quirked an eyebrow, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk. "of course. you’re right. your work should be acknowledged properly."

"i mean, yeah, it should," you said, sitting up a little, surprised by his uncharacteristic input. "but — wow, i wasn’t expecting you to actually comment."

"did you think i wasn’t listening?" he asked, and you felt a twinge of guilt at his tone, soft but pointed.

"no, no! it’s just — you don’t usually…" you trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it.

"interject?" he offered, his smirk now more pronounced. "maybe i just decided that this time warranted a response."

you let out a dramatic sigh, dropping back into his chest. "i guess it’s because it’s been driving me crazy, and you’re the only one who actually listens without dismissing me."

his arms tightened around you slightly. "it’s not just listening. i understand your frustration," he said simply.

you tilted your head back to squint at him. "so, what? you’re my emotional support and my husband now?"

"if that's what you need," he replied, deadpan, though the faint gleam in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

"ugh, you’re too perfect sometimes," you grumbled, but you couldn’t help the little smile tugging at your lips.

"hardly," he replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "but if my occasional commentary keeps you sane, i’m happy to oblige."

"you’re gonna spoil me," you teased, poking his side.

"only the way you deserve," he said, his voice low and warm, pulling you back into his embrace.

"and then, jason said he deserved the promotion because he ‘inspires the team,’" you scoffed, leaning against the arm of the couch while choso sat cross-legged on the floor beside you. “which is funny, considering the only thing he inspires is resentment.”

choso nodded, his dark eyes fixed on you intently, and you thought he was just listening — until he reached over, grabbed a little notepad from the coffee table, and scribbled something down.

"wait, are you writing this down?" you asked, staring at him in disbelief.

"yeah," he said matter-of-factly, not even looking up from his notes.

"why?" you asked, genuinely flabbergasted.

"so I don’t forget who’s who," he said simply, his tone as earnest as ever. "your stories have a lot of… moving parts. jason, cody, miya —" he paused, flipping back a page. "and your manager, who doesn’t step in when things get tense?"

your jaw dropped. "you remembered that?"

"of course," he replied, tilting his head like it was obvious. "you tell me these things, so i want to make sure i understand. otherwise, how am i supposed to keep up when you bring it up again?"

you blinked at him, momentarily speechless. "cho, you don’t… have to remember all this. it’s just dumb office stuff."

"it’s not dumb if it’s bothering you," he said simply, setting the notepad down and turning to look at you properly. "besides, it’s… interesting."

"interesting?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

he shrugged. "it’s like a soap opera. but real. i don’t understand why humans… argue so much, but it’s kind of fascinating. like, jason thinking he deserves a promotion —" he gestured vaguely, his lips quirking upward slightly. "what did he call himself? inspirational? sounds delusional to me."

you let out a surprised laugh. "you’re not wrong. but you seriously don’t have to do this," you insisted, pointing at the notepad.

"i want to," he said, his voice so gentle and sincere it made your chest ache. "it matters to you, so it matters to me. and if writing it down helps me remember, what’s the harm?"

you stared at him for a long moment before finally sliding off the couch to sit beside him on the floor, wrapping your arms around him. "you’re too sweet, you know that?"

he blinked, his ears faintly pink. "i just… want to be helpful."

"you’re more than helpful," you murmured against his shoulder. "but just so you know, i’m gonna keep roasting jason, and i’m not apologizing for it."

"noted," he said, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he actually reached for the notepad to jot it down.

"and then — ugh, this part kills me — he had the nerve to tell stacy she should 'smile more' during meetings," you said, waving your hands in exasperation. "like, the audacity!"

toji, sprawled out on the couch with an arm behind his head, cocked an eyebrow. "what's his name?"

"what?"

"the guy. what's his name?" he asked, his tone too casual, which you’d learned was a bad sign.

"toji, no," you said immediately, glaring at him.

"what? ’m just askin'."

"no, you’re not. you’re plotting. don’t think i don’t know that look."

he grinned, sharp and easy. "baby, i’m not gonna do anything… serious."

"your definition of 'serious' is murder," you deadpanned.

he shrugged, unabashed. "what can i say? i’m a problem-solver."

"tojiiiiii," you groaned, dragging a hand down your face. "you can’t just go around beating people up because they’re assholes."

"why not? sounds efficient to me," he said, stretching lazily like this was a perfectly reasonable argument.

"because i can’t go back to work and pretend nothing happened when the HR guy’s in the hospital with a broken nose," you shot back.

"you could," he said, smirking. "you’re a good actress when you need to be."

"toji!"

"fine, fine," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, though the grin never left his face. "but if he does anything else, let me know. i’ll make it look like an accident."

"you’re impossible," you muttered, crossing your arms.

"hey, i’m just lookin' out for my girl. and gotta protect the other ladies as well," he said with a casual shrug, but his tone was surprisingly sincere.

you stared at him for a beat. "you realize being a girl’s girl doesn’t usually involve violence, right?"

"eh," he said, waving it off. "’m an innovator."

"more like a liability," you muttered under your breath, but despite your exasperation, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"liability or not," he said, leaning in close, his grin softer now, "you know i’d take care of anyone who messes with you, right?"

you rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway. "yeah, i know. but maybe… let’s aim for less jail time next time you feel protective, okay?"

he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "no promises."

"and then she has the nerve to say my presentation lacked creativity, like, excuse me —"

"who is this again?" sukuna interrupts, lounging back against the headboard with his arms crossed.

"jules. i’ve mentioned her a million times — she’s the one who —"

"don’t care," he cuts you off, his tone flat as his crimson eyes flick over to you. "why are you wasting your breath on her?"

"i’m not wasting my breath! i’m venting," you huff, turning to glare at him. "it’s called being in a relationship. you listen to your partner’s frustrations, even if it’s not directly your problem."

he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "you’re frustrated over a bug you can squash under your shoe. why bother letting her live rent-free in your head?"

"it’s not that simple! i can’t just… ignore her. i have to work with her," you explain, crossing your arms.

"not for long," sukuna mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips.

you narrow your eyes at him. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"nothing," he says smoothly, but there’s a dangerous glint in his gaze that makes you suspicious.

"kuna…"

he lets out a dramatic sigh. "look, i don’t see the point in talking about insignificant humans. it’s tedious, and honestly, beneath you. why let them get to you when they’re not even worth a second of your time?"

"because, unfortunately, they’re there," you snap. "not everyone gets to waltz through life on their own terms, terrorizing whoever they want."

"that’s your first mistake," he says smugly.

you open your mouth to retort, but the next day at work, you notice something strange. jules' desk is eerily empty.

"weird," you mutter to yourself. "she didn’t say anything about taking a day off."

the day after that? still empty. the third day? HR sends an email that jules has "stepped down unexpectedly."

you stare at the screen, slack-jawed.

when you confront sukuna later, he’s reclining on the couch like he owns the place (which, let’s be real, he kinda does), looking waayy too pleased with himself.

"you wouldn’t happen to know anything about jules suddenly leaving, would you?"

he smirks, not even bothering to hide it. "told you she wasn’t worth your time."

"sukuna!"

"what? i didn’t lay a finger on her."

"then what did you do?" you demand.

he leans forward, his grin sharp and teasing. "just helped her realize she wasn’t cut out for the job. gave her a little… encouragement to pursue other paths."

you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. "i can’t believe you. you can’t just go around scaring my coworkers off!"

"worked, didn’t it?" he says, utterly unbothered. "now, can we stop talking about work and focus on something that actually matters?"

"suku —"

"like what’s for dinner," he interrupts, flashing you a toothy grin.

you hate that you’re already planning to let it slide.

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[whorelaud]

loser!bf!Rafe getting jealous after he discovers you have another man's name as your phone password. contains soft rafe, jealousy & tooth rotting fluff, wc; 747 a/n this is a repost oops

“Hey, baby, can I borrow your phone for a moment?” Your boyfriend’s voice erupted through your ears, earning your attention as you adjusted the falsies around your eye, too accompanied with the action to acknowledge the boy hovering behind you, staring at you through the reflection of the mirror. 

“Mhm,” you cooed, lips parting with concentration. “It’s on the nightstand.” The boy nodded, instantly retrieving your phone from your side of the bed, approaching you once again, this time with the intention of unlocking it. He adjusted the device in front of your face, in an attempt to use face ID, his plan backfiring when your phone lit with the ‘password required’ screen.  

“What’s your password?” He clicked his teeth, leaning his weight against the desk, his figure filling the majority of your view. His fingers soared over the screen, while he patiently waited for you to finish applying your lashes. 

“Luvdrew,” you replied, causing the boy to come to a halt, his expression twisting with puzzlement. “But instead of the e, type in a three.” 

“Luvdrew?” He questioned, ridiculed by your response. “Who the fuck is Drew?” Your gaze shifted back to bim, dumbfounded by the bitterness seeping through his voice, confused by the sudden change in his tone. 

“Oh, Drew Starkey,” you continued, flashing him a smile, oblivious to how casual you were making the conversation seem, upsetting Rafe even more. “You’ve never heard of him? He used to be my celebrity crush.” 

“And you have him as your password? What, you think about him every time you unlock your phone?” His face fumed with annoyance, not failing to hide it as he clicked his teeth, tossing your phone back on the desk. “I don’t even want to use your phone anymore, let that Drew guy use it instead.” 

“What?!” You started, a soft chuckle knocking out of your chest, fully abandoning your makeup on the desk, attention fixing on Rafe, whose face expressed nothing but sulkiness. “Are you jealous?!” 

“No!” He spat back, eyebrows curling with frustration. “Why would I be jealous because you have another man’s name as your password, when you clearly have a boyfriend?!” 

“You are jealous.” You snickered, getting up from your seat. You leveled your face with Rafe’s, tilting his head with a hand to his chin. He avoided your gaze, brushing off the touch as he seized his head down in his lap, not giving in to your coy gesture. “Look at me, I’m sorry! I’ve had it for a while, before we even dated, I must’ve forgotten to change it. I’m sorry! He’s a literal celebrity, baby.” 

“Whatever,” he scoffed, resisting the hand engulfing the curve of his jaw. “Go be with Drew, maybe he’ll treat you better, since I’m not good enough for you.” 

“Rafe!” You shot back, surprised by his stubborn attitude. “Why are you acting like this, I’m sorry.” You pecked the corner of his lips, mimicking your action when he angled his head to the side, a silent invitation for you to continue kissing him. You littered open-mouthed kisses to his mouth, chest swelling with pride when the latter smiled, pressing his lips into a thin line to hold himself back from further giving into your compelling. “There you go, don’t sulk with me, you know I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He mumbled in between kisses, lingering for a moment when you captured his lips in between your own, his moving over yours in an attempt to deepen it. His hands sneaked around your waist, sandwiching you with his legs to keep you in place. “I love you too, I guess.”

“You guess?” You shrugged, “I’ll change my password to luvrafe, there, are you happy?” You muttered, leaning your head back when Rafe chased after your lips, desperate to kiss you. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes, hesitating to mutter his next statement. “So… is that Drew guy more attractive than me?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No one is more attractive than you, you’re the most handsome man on earth.”

“Oh?” He cocked his head to the side, amused by your response, seeking more of your attention. “What else?” 

“Oh, don't get cocky with me.” You teased, grinning from ear to ear. You tilted your head to the side, your next sentence an attempt to rile him up. “You know, I might’ve exaggerated, Drew’s an attractive g–”

“Fuck off!” He interrupted your sentence before you could further speak. “I’m done with you.” 

[finalgirllx]

Mattheo's Nurse

my own take on a favorite trope - healing mattheo after one of his many, many fights. for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge, the prompt i went off of was 'why do you do this for me? are you sure you're not in love with me?'

1.2k words | suggestive content | minors dni | f!reader implied

Becoming Mattheo Riddle's personal nurse was not part of your grand plan. However, an incidental run-in where you tended to him after a courtyard scuffle led him to recognize you as possibly the only person who would help him with concern devoid of judgment. That's how you fell into a routine of him 'just happening' to appear wherever you were settled, weaponizing his puppy eyes until you eventually agreed to patch up his wounds in order to minimize his visits to the hospital wing.

Mattheo had come to your dorm room tonight, causing you to let out a dramatic sigh, wordlessly directing him to sit on your desk chair while you fetched your ever-expanding collection of first-aid supplies.

As you inspected his marred knuckles with a light touch, he winced from the pain at the pressure points. There was some swelling, discoloration, and a hefty set of cuts all over his one fist. The drying blood along his joints seemed not to be his own.

"Oh, stop that," you chided him over his complaints. "Shouldn't you be used to the ache at this point? Damn masochist, aren't you," you continued, poking fun at Mattheo while casting 'glacius' on the water packs you had gathered just for this reason.

In response to your ribbing, Mattheo playfully bit his inner cheek, his expression shifting from pained to something more suggestive.

"You'd like that, I'm sure," he quipped. His eyes narrowed, trying to persuade yours to meet his as you applied the ice pack to his scratched hand. "You make quite the nurse," he continued, his voice dripping with flirtation. "And quite the sight, too. Seeing your pretty face distracts me from any wounds to my dignity. You think candy stripers are still a thing? Might be easier to tend to me in a shorter skirt," he added while his less injured hand found a comfortable resting spot where your waist met your hip.

"A better patient would stop causing such a distraction," you countered swiftly, deliberately avoiding that very gaze because you knew how quickly you would fold for the magnetism of his deep brown eyes. Yet, your actions defied your attitude as you allowed his hand to remain where it rested, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your clothing, which sent a shiver up your spine.

Mattheo smirked, indicating just how much he wanted to acknowledge what you both felt.

"Let me guess. You don't just carry around medical supplies because you want to play doctor," he mused. "I think you're helping me weekly because you're in love with me," he wiggled his brows, confident in his suggestion.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, silently conceding to the truth in his words but unwilling to admit it. Instead, you quickly regain your composure, lightly patting his cheek before adopting a more serious expression. "Hush, you're being disorderly. I can't fix you up with all this chatter," you scolded playfully, feigning annoyance.

Mattheo hissed, his eyes scrunching shut, reigniting your helper mode out of fear you had touched another sore spot. The guilt was short-lived, however, when the prick turned his head in both directions to show a bruise forming along the other side of his cheek, not the one you had touched. He just wanted to tease you, prompting you to retaliate with an additional pat out of spite on the uninjured cheek.

"Stop this. Remember, your life is in my hands; don't forget," you quipped snippily.

"Regardless of your consistent threats to my life, every time I come to you for help, I’m choosing to put my trust in you because you have feelings for me. And that's also why you're avoiding looking at me," he countered with a smug attitude, correctly assuming that this would finally get you to lock eyes with him. Which you did; looking right into his eager gaze paired with long lashes of everyone's envy. Even the few curls splayed over his forehead added to the appeal that despite him just coming from another bloody fight, you had to utilize every ounce of willpower to avoid melting at his ability to switch from intimidating to irresistible in an instant.

"Also, as my nurse, I’m surprised you don't know the cure-all to any injury," Mattheo begins again, and you suspect more nonsense is about to spill out.

You couldn't help but scoff. "What would that be?"

"A kiss."

You were utterly undone. "Bloody hell," you muttered, blushing profusely before deciding to indulge him this one time. You wouldn't quite treat him to some lip action, however. So instead of giving in entirely, you placed a small, modest peck on the tip of his nose.

The giddy expression that overcame him was worth it to see, but Mattheo, being himself, couldn't resist being a little greedy and pushing his luck further.

"Oh, on the nose? That only gets me halfway there," he complained with mock concern.

You could only smirk. Mattheo seemed to know better despite all attempts to convince him otherwise, which wasn't surprising given how perceptive he was. That, coupled with your consistent fumbling and his astute observation of your unwavering willingness to help him every time. Still, you weren't ready. While Mattheo's charm did get him quite far in leaving a lasting impression on you, you also knew that relinquishing yourself to the growing feelings would entangle you with the rest of his troubles, just as he would with yours. For now you'd prefer to let it simmer rather than dive right in. However, it didn't hurt to fantasize about how it would go.

For example, giving into the desire that your entire body ached for, to crawl into his lap and crash your lips against his. You longed to taste the metallic tang lingering from his blood-stained bottom lip that stirred with the scent of his cigarette addiction. You wanted to experience the absolute bliss that the softness of those pillowy lips would guarantee, all the while feigning surprise that this hardened bad boy could have any soft spots at all.

You craved to feel the hands responsible for splitting countless jaws roam your body with an unprecedented level of adoration, letting him fondle every last curve to ensure he learned all of it. You wanted him to discover all of your weak spots and master the art of caressing them in such a way as to elicit endless waves of pleasure every time. You yearned for him to possessively grope your ass, keeping yourself pressed to him as closely as possible while his other hand held the back of your head to draw out your kisses. His touches would solidify you as his, not just as his 'nurse' but in every sense that someone could belong to another.

Snapping yourself from drifting thoughts, you managed to deflect under the guise of needing to retrieve more supplies for an additional small cut you had overlooked. You came back, and despite your hesitancy, you wanted to leave Mattheo with a glimmer of hope.

"Tell you what," you started. "Let your hands heal so they can be of full use, and I'll grant you the other half of that kiss."

"Atta girl. That I can do," he grinned triumphantly.

"Yes, yes, now hold still so I can properly heal you."

[fiapple]

yes there is alt right pipeline, yes there is a terf pipeline, but if you frame the people who willingly go down either as the victim, i do not trust you. not as an activist, and not as a person.

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 2

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: ahhhh! sorry that i took so long for the next part! ive been so busy, how embarrassing. but here it is!! thank you all not only for your patience but also for your kindness and for enjoying my writing :) i really appreciate it.

all parts: pt.1,

December | Tokyo, Japan

Days have passed, and the rescheduled meeting went smoothly. Nanami was all smiles, his feedback limited, followed by a lot of praise for the department. The breakfast was to everyone's liking, and Nanami seemed to have been beyond satisfied. It definitely felt like a win for you. 

Nanami’s meeting with Mr. Takada went well, and he did receive approval to create another position for the corporate cafe (thanks to Mr. Takada). You’ve decided to take it upon yourself to offer him the job, a sort of nice surprise for Nanami. You rush to the bathroom, pulling down your short pencil skirt and fixing the wrinkles of your egg-white cardigan. You check yourself in the mirror, assuring your makeup didn’t smudge and your hair wasn’t the equivalent of a bird's nest. 

As you did, two of the ladies from the front desk entered, makeup bags in hand. They were a sea of chatter until they noticed you, but their smiles only widened. They place their bags down at their appropriate sink, and eye you. “You’re Nanami Kacho’s assistant, right?” The brunette asked eagerly

You turn over and nod, “correct. Is there anything you need?” 

The two exchange a look before turning back with gleeful smiles, “are you two… close?” 

“As close as two coworkers can be,” you said, hoping the dread didn’t imbue into your words. “Why?” 

“A-ah, well,” the blonde one quickly chimes in. “You wouldn’t know if he was single, would you?” 

It was always selfish of you to always live in your own world. In your perfect world, Nanami was single, simply waiting for you to make your move. In your world, nobody knows about Nanami but you. Particularly, you knew what his favorite coffee was, what colors he enjoys wearing. It was unheard of in your world for others to enjoy his presence at the capacity that you do. But you also acknowledged that you were delusional, and that that was simply not the case.

You look over and shrug, “as far as I know, he’s single. But I try not to endeavor in his personal affairs.” You were blessed to have such a professional voice, because each word burnt your tongue. “I’m guessing the both of you…” you lower your head, softening your gaze towards the two women. Their crimson faces and shy smiles said it all. You force out a smile and prepare your leave, “I wish you both luck.” 

You could feel your heart sink, somehow feeling jealous over a man that wasn’t yours. As you exited the bathroom, you let out a long, shaky sigh. It was moments like this that would bring you back to reality. 

As disappointing as it is, Nanami is your boss. Not your friend, or lover. He is the person that keeps you on payroll, instructs you on your work, and expects you to get your shit done. And he sees you as exactly what you are: his assistant. You have his back, but prior to your role, he had no assistant. Nanami is praised time and time again for his abilities as well as completing his tasks independently. Really, you need him more than he needs you. 

But you calm yourself down, remembering that you yourself are a single woman, and can’t hang onto this man forever. Nearing your desk and seeing Nanami’s perfectly side swooped hair, your ‘independent woman’ facade quakes. His eyes quickly leave the computer screen, and his lips curve into a gentle smile. “Y/N, you calculated your numbers beautifully,” he compliments in a warm tone. “You truly outdo my expectations.” 

Your cheeks heat up from the flattery, “thank you, Nanami…” You give him a curt bow before sifting through your drawer. Your fingers wedge between the documents, looking through the alphabetically-organized folders. Finding exactly what you were looking for, you quickly press it against your chest. 

Nanami’s eyes stare at the folder skeptically, “what are you up to now?” 

It wasn’t at all accusatory, but somehow his tone made you nervous, “ah, I have a few of last month's numbers to make copies of. I also have to go to our bigger database to reach last year's numbers so I can create a comparison chart.” 

Nanami accepts your excuse, though you’re confident he’s a bit aware of your white lie. He nods, “don’t feel rushed– those numbers will be due after New Years.” 

You nod, “I’d rather get a headstart before then.”

“We truly are too similar, Y/N,” Nanami hums, his warm smile uplifting your previously low spirits. He returns his focus to his computer, reading one of the many emails he receives on a daily basis. “That reminds me– tomorrow is Thursday, Y/N.” 

Your eyes flicker to your shared calendar, “that’s right. We’ll be working remotely for the rest of the week.” A silence sits between you two after your words. Catching yourself, you toy anxiously at your fob, “did you want to ask me something in person before then?” 

Nanami nods, finishing the draft of his email before a swoop! sound sends it off. “I wanted to ask you something– and you can absolutely say no if you’d like. It is a personal ask, but it is completely work related, so nothing to fear. I wanted to ask if I could come to your apartment during our remote day to work alongside you.” 

He looks over at you, his eyes dipped with kindness. Although his ask was big, and you were driving yourself insane at the idea of him coming over, it was difficult to refuse. Refusing would probably seem offensive to him, no? He was your boss too, so it was platonic and strictly work-related as he pointed out. “Is… there some sort of task that requires us together at this time?”  

It was Nanami’s turn to blush, his hands leaving the keyboard to allow his thumbs to fiddle. “It isn’t required by any means… I just find that working physically with you is much more relaxing and productive for me.” Your eyes narrow onto his now rosy cheeks, and the way he shyly tugged at his bottom lip. His eyes still meet yours however, still exuding that same professional aura he always does. 

You give yourself a moment before giving him a reluctant nod, “then it is not a problem. I will text you my address and apartment number. Feel free to call me early in the morning in case of anything– I’m usually up and ready around 5:45-ish.” 

Nanami nods at your promptness, “perfect. I’ll plan to arrive 5 minutes prior to our shift. And since you’re kindly allowing me into your home, I’ll bring you breakfast. My treat.” 

It felt like a dream. You were going to host Nanami in your home, for 8 hours straight, working next to one another on your couch. You quickly collect yourself, and begin to take your leave, “I’ll be back soon.” He smiles and nods, returning back to his work as you secretly leave to go and get his favorite barista hired. 

Some time passes, and Nanami makes quite a dent in his work load. But everyone could tell he was feeling the weight of the job and his position. But he does his best to take it easy, unbutton the few top buttons of his blue dress shirt. His collarbones were prominent, his light skin exposed to the cold of the ventilated office. He finally decides to leave his chair and go get his cup of water refilled. 

As he strolls to the kitchen area, he hears hush-tone voices already inside. He, for some reason, halts before the doorway, curious as to what his employees could be talking about. Although he was expecting complaints about work, or a conversation about confidential topics, he was not expecting them to talk about you… and him.

“...it has to be true!” One of them exclaimed in a whisper. “It’s obvious that she likes him.” 

“Every woman in our office likes Nanami kacho,” another one responds simply, “it wouldn’t be surprising for Y/N to have a crush on him as well. Actually, it would make more sense that she does, considering she’s his assistant.” 

“I’m sure I’ve heard her talk about her crush with Haibara kacho,” the previous voice chimes. “I admit to being a little envious when it comes to Y/N… she’s such a lovely woman. I’d be over the moon if she had a crush on me.” 

“Ah, he has no idea how lucky he is to have her under his management. I might take my chances and ask Y/N out– I’ve been considering it for a while now...” 

Before they could continue, Nanami makes his presence known and walks into the doorway. He looks up at the two gentlemen, instantly being able to associate names to their faces. The two freeze, their faces going pale as Nanami casually walks over to the water machine. Silence pierces the air as the two wait for their boss’s words. 

With a deep sigh, Nanami turns around and hovers over his two employees. They went cold from the warmth-deprived tone in Nanami’s eyes. With straight lips, he begins, “some advice… I highly recommend not getting into the hobby of rumor mongering. Or at least, do it outside of work."

"Y-yes, sir!" The two say in unison. "Sorry sir!"

Nanami waves his hand at them, "it's no big deal, really. Just get back to work." They immediately bank on the opportunity and rush out of the kitchen leaving Nanami alone to his thoughts.

It isn't like Nanami was deaf to those rumors. He lives them constantly, being the topic of many whispers by the young women that worked in the office. Even women from other departments would make their way to the Finance team just to take a peek at him. He didn't make much of it however, as he didn't care to be consumed by the crushes and false ideas about him as a partner.

But to think that you could have a crush on him... was conflicting. You were his assistant, the byproduct of his commitment to his job and his work ethic. It would be easy to think nothing of this like he did with every other women. But you were different. You were hardworking, honest, kind, considerate. You were his diligent assistant, whose work proves that she was practically destined to become his assistant.

He walked back to his seat, his mind completely clouded. It was unsettling, this feeling in is chest. Was it regret from his foreseen plans to reject you? Was it surprise that you would have a crush on a stoic man like him? Was it guilt for her to fall for someone like him? Nanami couldn't quite pin point it, but the feeling in his chest had no plans to leave.

As he tries to get comfortable again, you quickly make your way to him. Nanami's hazel eyes immediately fix onto you, but making eye contact felt dazing. He looks at your eyes briefly before his gaze falls onto the cup of coffee offered in your hands. Your face was beaming with excitement.

Written on his coffee cup: thank you for having me. excited to join you guys soon! :) - Tae Ito

"He accepted our offer," you begin with quiet excitement, "he will be joining us starting Monday!" You put down the folder, in which its contents held a signed offer letter. Your whole body was freezing, your face and fingers red from the cold as you left your coat in the office. But the warmth of surprising Nanami was enough to waive the potential frostbite.

Silent gratitude emanates as Nanami kindly takes the cup of coffee from your hands. "So this is what you were scheming," Nanami says in a hush, calm tone. He looks up at you with a sheepish smile, and tries to find peace in the heat of the coffee cup, "thank you, as always Y/N."

You couldn't prove it, but when you realized that Nanami let his coffee go cold, you could tell something was off. And you didn't like that one bit.

Taglist:

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

pls let me know if anyone else wants to be added to the taglist!

[always-just-red]

I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. “Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything. 

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene II: The Dangerous Game)

An unexpected tension rises between you as Spencer dangerously blurs the line of your fake relationship.

Part warning: Sexual tension. Lots of it. And... body description? Basically Spencer gets a little handsy and has a boner😭 Words: 2.8k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You should’ve known this would happen. Deep down, given the lie you were maintaining, you had suspected that you'd end up sharing a room together. You were dragging your suitcase behind you—because a duffel bag wasn’t enough for all your stuff despite staying just one night—when Penelope pulled you away from the group.

“You and lover boy are staying in the room on the second floor, the one on the corner left.”

You frowned, your eyes darting between Penelope and Spencer, who was grabbing his bag from the car. “I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you reasoned, trying to come up with an excuse. “I mean… Reid and I just started dating, we haven’t… you know.”

Penelope flashed you a smile. "Then maybe it's the perfect time to… you know.”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. "Pen, no, we should probably—"

She cut you off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It’s just for one night. Besides, you know it’s the best room here—great view, lots of space. It would be a waste for it not to be enjoyed by the new couple."

You narrowed your eyes on her.

“It’s also the only room with a lock.”

You made a face. The thought of sharing a room with Spencer, especially one with a lock, sent a wave of anxiety through you. Memories of that night flooded your mind, making the situation feel even more daunting. You felt your cheeks flush again, your heart pounding faster. It took every ounce of your self-control to smooth your expression back into something neutral. 

"Alright," you said, forcing a smile. “Fine.”

Penelope beamed, clearly pleased with herself. "Great!” She gushed, pulling her suitcase. “Because there are no available rooms left.”

You sighed inwardly, realizing there was no way out of this. You watched her enter the house, leaving you to gather your thoughts alone. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe sharing a room with Spencer would be manageable. 

After all, it was just one night. You had handled more complicated scenarios in your line of work, hadn’t you? You had faced near-death experiences. If you could negotiate with armed suspects, how hard could one evening of pretend romance be?

Extremely hard, you realized, because when Spencer slowly approached you, all you wanted was for the ground to swallow you whole.

“What?” he asked, probably noticing the look of sheer panic on your face.

You tried to find the proper way to say it, searching for words that might soften the blow. But there was no other way than to tell it how it was.

“We’re... we’re sharing a room,” you finally managed to say.

There was a pause, and then there it was, the elephant in the room. But you both avoided acknowledging it directly, as you always did, so he simply cleared his throat and looked away.

“Okay,” Spencer said quietly, his eyes fixed on some distant point.

“Okay?” You echoed. “You’re really okay with this?”

He glanced back at you. “Look, weren’t you the one who wanted to make this convincing? Sharing a room might help with that.”

You sighed, knowing he was right but still feeling the weight of the situation. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just...”

“It’s just one night,” he snapped. “We’ll manage.”

Oh, wow, he was going to be a bitch about it.

His tone was sharp, dismissive, and it grated on your nerves. This whole situation was already uncomfortable, and his attitude was only making it worse. The last thing you needed was him to act like this was some minor inconvenience when it felt like so much more. You threw a glare at him.

“Fine,” you shot back. “But you’re taking the floor.”

He didn’t respond, he just kept looking at you with that same unreadable expression. His silence was infuriating. It was as if he couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge your frustration, and that only fueled your anger more. Without another word, you stormed away, seething, dragging your suitcase as you left him standing alone in the driveway.

Maybe he shouldn't have snapped at you. Spencer knew it wasn't fair to take his frustration out on you, especially when you were both stuck in the same awkward predicament. But it was hard to act as if everything was fine when the reality of your situation weighed so heavily on his mind.

Sometimes he wished he wasn’t wired like this. He knew he had the tendency to overthink, to let anxiety get the better of him, or to struggle with situations that required emotional skill. He could handle high-pressure situations in the field, but dealing with personal relationships was hard for him. It was never his intention to push people away when he felt overwhelmed, but it happened way too often, and today was no exception.

He also knew he needed to work on that. But to do so, it required him to confront his traumas, and that was the last thing he wanted to face. So instead, he pulled his sunglasses down and opened his book because nothing screams a good coping mechanism like reading fiction to avoid reality.

And his reality now was you.

“What are you doing?”

He peered over his glasses and saw Derek hovering above him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Like you’re brooding.”

“I’m reading.”

“I can see that,” Derek said as he settled on the lounge chair beside him. “What I meant was, what are you doing out here alone? Where’s your girlfriend?”

Spencer had asked himself the same question. You weren’t there when he dropped his bag in your shared room, you were also missing during lunch, and when he realized that you were avoiding him on purpose, he decided to change into more comfortable clothes and head out to the pool.

“She’s around,” Spencer replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Needed some alone time, I guess.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise already? You two just started dating.”

“It’s not that. We’re just…” He thought of a way to explain the situation without giving too much details. “We’re adjusting to the whole team knowing about us. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“You’re both overthinkers, that’s the problem. Just relax and enjoy the weekend,” Derek suggested, leaning back in his chair before giving him a pointed look. “And maybe try spending some time with her instead of hiding behind that book.”

“I’m not hiding,” Spencer shot back without looking up from the pages.

“Sure you’re not,” Derek replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Just saying, kid, you’re here to have fun. Maybe try doing that with your girlfriend.”

He turned a page over, not saying a word. When Derek realized he was purposely ignoring him, he leaned closer.

"Let me give you some advice about women."

Spencer wrinkled his nose, already dreading what was coming. "I’m not sure I want to listen to this."

"Trust me, you do," Derek insisted. "First off, this," he said, pausing for emphasis before pointing his finger toward Spencer’s book. "Is not cute."

Spencer flipped over his book, revealing the cover with its title printed in bold letters. In Cold Blood. "Of course not. It's a detailed account of the 1959 murders in—hey!"

Before he could continue, Derek reached out and plucked the book from his hands. "Not this. You," he said, pointing the book at him. "No wonder she's off doing her own thing while you're glued to this."

Spencer furrowed his brow. "She's the one who—"

"No. No." Derek placed the thick paperback down on the small table between them. "Second piece of advice about women, they're always right. Or, at least, they think they are, and sometimes it's easier and wiser just to go along with that."

"That's hardly practical advice."

Derek laughed, leaning back comfortably. "You don't have to agree with everything, but showing that you value her perspective can go a long way."

"She’d be easier to deal with if she wasn’t so stubborn.”

"Reid, do you even hear yourself? You sound like you don't even like her."

Spencer paused, an uncomfortable realization dawning on him. He was supposed to be playing the part of a devoted boyfriend, not a grumpy one. He was supposed to keep up the act.

"Fine," he sighed reluctantly. "What should I do then?"

"Be present. Stop isolating yourself and go talk to her."

"I don't even know where she is."

“Then go find her," Derek said matter-of-factly, his eyes drifting across the pool. He nodded his head. "Speak of the devil.”

Spencer turned in the direction Derek pointed, pushing his sunglasses up with a finger as they slid down his nose.

Then he froze. His brain promptly shut down as if someone had flipped a switch. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, his jaw slacking open, his mind startlingly blank as he watched you step out of the house wearing what he assumed was a swimsuit. The top had straps that crisscrossed in a way that seemed overly complicated to him, and the bottoms were minimal, barely covering your skin.

Your swimsuit left very little to the imagination and he found himself momentarily stunned. He felt an unexpected tightness in his throat and a sudden warmth pooling in his chest. The heat surged through his body before it focused right between his legs, and he forced himself to clench his thighs together as he snapped his mouth shut.

Derek cleared his throat beside him.

"I guess you do like her," he teased, picking up the book from the table before dropping it onto Spencer's lap. "You might want to hide that."

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red as he quickly tried to adjust the book to cover himself better. His mortification grew as he noticed you standing close by, your attention directed towards Derek.

"Hey Morgan, can I steal my boyfriend for a sec?" you asked, smiling a little too sweet.

"He's all yours, pretty girl," Derek replied with a grin, standing up before he left you two alone. When he was out of earshot, you sat on the chair he had occupied.

"We've been away from each other far too long," you commented, your voice hushed. "It's not looking good for us."

Spencer nodded absently, trying to focus on your words. But his attention was too focused on the bottle of sunscreen in your hand.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

He shook his head.

“You have," you pointed out, popping open the cap. "Well, maybe I have too, but that’s not the point."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his eyes following the movements of your hands as you squeezed some sunscreen onto your palm.

"We need to do something," you continued. Your palms rubbed the lotion together at the same time his tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously. "If we keep avoiding each other, they’ll start to suspect us."

He nodded again, his mind half on your words and half on the way the sunscreen glistened on your skin as you started applying it to your arms. "You're right," he admitted, forcing himself to concentrate. "We need to be more convincing."

"Exactly," you pressed, unaware of his growing distraction. "We should start doing things that couples do. Spend time together, be seen together."

"Yeah," he echoed, his gaze drifting as you moved to apply sunscreen to your shoulders. “Together.”

"And we should show more affection," you added, and his breathing hitched slightly when your hands moved to apply sunscreen across your chest, fingers brushing subtly along the upper swell of your breasts. It was a casual motion for you, but for him, it was torture. His eyes followed the path of your hands, his mind struggling to stay focused on anything else.

"And I know you don’t like holding hands, or any type of PDA for the matter," you continued, turning slightly, giving him a clearer view of your chest. "But I think it's necessary. It makes this whole thing look real.”

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, his focus slipping again as your hand moved lower, smoothing lotion over your stomach and inching toward your hips. His throat felt dry, and he unconsciously pressed the book harder against his lap.

“Really? You’re okay with that?”

He blinked, forcibly pulling his eyes up to meet yours, hoping you were oblivious of where his gaze had lingered behind his shades.

“Yes." He winced when his voice came out high-pitched and strained. He cleared his throat, and repeated in a more controlled voice, “Yes.”

“Huh.”

He shifted nervously. “What?”

“Nothing.” You looked away, now focusing on your legs. “I just didn’t expect you to agree.”

He hadn’t planned to, but it was hard to think straight when he was too focused on the way you were leaning down, smoothing the lotion over your thighs. The angle gave him a clear view of your breasts peeking out from your top, the thin fabric barely containing them, and he had to bite his lip to suppress a moan.

“Great, they’re still staring at us,” you noted with a quick glance over your shoulder. You handed him the bottle of sunscreen. “Here, help me put it on my back.”

His eyes widened. “I don’t think—“

But you were already laying down on your stomach on the lounge chair, pushing your hair to the side. “Come on, it’ll look more natural if you help me.”

Maybe you were right, maybe this was necessary, but he couldn’t help recalling the last time he had his hands on you and how that night had turned out. But he convinced himself that this was different. You both were out in the open and surrounded by your friends, so nothing could go wrong.

Nothing serious, anyway.

He moved to your chair while keeping his book securely on his lap, and you caught sight of his awkward movements. “You know you could just put the book down.”

“No, I… I think I’ll keep it with me.”

“You must really like that book.”

He forced a small laugh, trying to appear casual. “Yeah, it’s, uh, a good read.”

You frowned, clearly not buying it but choosing not to push further. He then took a deep breath and poured some sunscreen into his hands. He moved closer, the book still awkwardly balanced on his lap, and slowly placed his hands on your back.

Your skin was warm, just like how he had imagined it. Soft and smooth under his fingertips. He started at your shoulders, working his way down with slow, careful motions. He could feel the tension in his body as he focused on you, acutely aware of every inch of skin under his fingers.

You had grown quiet, and Spencer noticed the subtle change in your breathing—how it had deepened and slowed. Your usual witty remarks were replaced by a tense silence that seemed to hum with something neither of you had expected to surface. He felt your muscles relax under his touch, and as he reached the lower part of your back, he paused, unsure.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “You can go lower... if you need to.”

He nodded slightly, though you couldn’t see it, and shifted his position. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin, the subtle shifts of your body as you adjusted to his touch. Then his hands slipped a bit further down, his fingers brushing the top of your swimsuit line.

“Let me know if I need to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and almost hesitant.

You didn’t respond immediately, and he took your silence as permission to continue. His pulse quickened as he realized the line he was crossing. This was already dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he was this close to feeling your soft flesh beneath his fingertips. Not when the rush of blood to his groin was making him lose all sense of control.

He carefully slipped his fingers just under your swimsuit. When you made no move to stop him, his fingers dipped dangerously lower, his gaze intently fixed on your face. He observed your mouth part slightly, eyes closed and brows knitted together in a mix of surprise and something else he couldn't quite place.

He was so focused on your expression, the way your body responded to his hands, that he nearly missed the soft, almost breathless sigh that escaped your lips. The sound was unmistakably intimate, downright sinful and he immediately stopped. His hands hovered just above your skin as you quickly opened your eyes, realization dawning on both of you.

"I-I'm sorry, I—" he started, pulling his hands back, the book almost falling from his lap.

"No, it's... it's okay," you said quickly, sitting up and adjusting your swimsuit, a flush creeping up your neck. “I… uh...”

You looked at each other, silent for a heartbeat. Then you both began to speak at the same time.

“I’m gonna—”

“I should probably—”

You cleared your throat, beginning to stand up. “I’m gonna grab a drink. Do you want anything?”

Spencer shook his head, a tight smile briefly crossing his face. “No, I, uh, I’m good. Thanks.”

There was an awkward silence before you finally snapped. You quickly turned and hurried away, leaving Spencer to himself as he sat there, his body betraying a level of sexual frustration that was both inconvenient and embarrassing. The bulge in his pants was almost painfully obvious at that point, forcing him to adjust the book on his lap with a grimace.

His eyes involuntarily flickered back to you, only to regret it instantly as he caught a glimpse of your ass peeking from the bottom of your swimsuit. He let out a sigh. He might actually need a cold drink after all, or better yet, a whole bucket of ice.

[bandgie]

Only if You Say Yes | Armageddon Event

Request: Pride | Park Sunghoon (ENHA) by anon song!

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, college au, jealousy (mutual), hurt/comfort, fwb→lover/exes→lovers (depends how you look at it), alcohol mentions (no one is drunk) reader makes out with Jake, sunghoon is a bit of an asshole and controlling lol, PIV, no protection, failed pull-out method, make-up sex, semi-dom reader, cowgirl, brief fingering

notes! I kinda went off im sorry. trying out the angst I guess. last rec of the event!! (thank god)

5.4k words

It doesn’t bother you at all. Not how her hands caress his shoulders and pull him closer. Not how he leans into her touch, a shit-eating grin on his lips like he knows you’re watching. Even if they’re practically glued to each other on the couch, acting as if they’re anything more than fuck buddies - it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

The reason your chest aches and your face feels hot is because of the alcohol. Jungle juice from college parties never sits right with you. This drink isn’t an expectation, but shit, you didn’t think it’d make your heart race.

“Fucking creep.” Sunoo sneers unashamedly. “Look at Sunghoon, looking at you like that bitch isn’t sucking off his face. I hate that guy.” He looks at you, an eyebrow arched and pouty lips forming a frown. “I can’t believe you hooked up with him.”

Hooking up with him would be an understatement. Sunghoon is a good lay, a great lay if you want to be honest. He was as good with his words as he was with his dick. You knew nothing would ever blossom beyond a good fuck, but damn. Why does he have to keep eyeing you like he knows?

“It’s whatever.” You shrug, eyes moving to the sea of people in the cramped apartment. “I don’t care.”

But Sunoo knows better, the smile settling on his lips says it all. “Right. Well, I think you should get your freak on girl. You’re having dick withdrawals. It’s bad for the heart…and pussy.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes despite a grin creeping on your lips. “Oh my god. You’re stupid.” Sunoo laughs with you, his pretty eyes turning into moon crescents. It makes you feel lighter like Sunghoon’s stare is nothing more than a fly buzzing around you. “But I think I’m done with hookups for a while. I have assignments to do and shit.”

“Ugh! Babe, you’re such a stick in the mud. Just a quick little make-out never hurt anyone.” He wiggles his eyes suggestively. “Could also make a little someone jealous.”

When you roll your eyes again, it’s pure irritation. “Anywho, I wouldn’t even know who with. Unless this is your way of asking me, and if so, I accept.” You pucker your lips, closing your eyes and leaning in only to be met with the palm of Sunoo’s smooth hand.

“Ew! Bitch, be serious. You know damn well you are not my type. I’m talking about Jake!”

That makes your eyes open and tilt your head so look at your friend. “Jake? I don’t think we’re very uh…compatible.”

Sunoo’s gaze fixes behind you. His hand lowers to his side and he smirks. “Guess we’re about to find out. Hey Jake!”

Speak of the fucking devil.

He comes from behind, and the sound of his heavy shoes echo like an omen. Jake nods in acknowledgment to Sunoo, eyes bouncing between you both. “Hey. Didn’t expect to see you two here.”

The black shirt clings to him nicely, the outline of his pecs visible. He wears a silver chain around his neck that only accentuates his jawline. And when he smiles, he directs it at you. “Especially you. I thought you’d be too busy moping.”

A look of shock ripples through you. It takes a few blinks and the awkward opening and closing of your mouth before you say, “W-what? Why?”

Jake looks confused for a second. He turns to the couch at the other side of the room where Sunghoon is now squished between two girls.

You take a swig of the burning alcohol. 

“Weren’t you guys dating or something?”

Sunoo snorts, quickly covering his mouth and pinching his nose. You look at him, but his eyes tell you that he hasn’t said a peep about anything. You look back to Jake. “No? Where did you hear that from?”

More confusion etches on his masculine features. “Uh…Sunghoon?”

This time, Sunoo can’t contain his laughter. His giggles cause the people around him to look, but all you can focus on is the sincerity in Jake’s words. “What?”

“Oh, fuck me.” Sunoo’s face is flushed. “I need a drink.” Before you could even hold him captive, your friend quickly weaves through the drunk swarm of bodies to leave you and Jake.

Whatever. “What do you mean he said we were dating?”

“Okay, he didn’t use that word, but pretty much. I don’t wanna say too much, but he was basically acting like you two were an item.”

You shake your head. “Bullshit. Is that why he’s about to have a threesome on the couch right now?”

Jake sighs. “Well, now it’s different. He didn’t really tell me much other than that you dumped him-”

“We weren’t even dating.”

“Fine. That you told him to buzz off and he’s just trying to find a rebound. Listen, I know you don’t believe me, but Sunghoon was really…into you. He stopped hooking up with other people when he started seeing you.”

You hate the way your heart clenches. Like him keeping it in his pants is something romantic. “I…I don’t believe you.”

Jake shrugs. “I know. Sunghoon is a bit too prideful to admit when he likes someone. Sorry you had to put up with him.”

Despite the lump in your throat, you give a weak smile. “I did it to myself. I should have known. But if you’re really sorry, you should make out with me.”

Jake laughs with nervousness. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Hardly. This tastes like shit.” You wave the cup in the air, causing the liquid to slosh inside. “I’m being serious. About kissing. I think I need a rebound too.”

Most men are put off by the idea of having seconds, but Jake isn’t most men. “But me? You know I’ve been friends with Sunghoon since high school, right?”

You nod, trying so hard to hide the smile coming on your lips.

Jake grins widely. “Oh, I get it.” He leans down, an arm propping up on the counter and tilting his head so his mouth perfectly aligns with yours. He smells expensive, like not even a drop of liquor has managed to soil his clothing. “You’re too pretty to be so cruel.” But he doesn’t kiss you, not yet.

His nose touches the tip of yours and lowers until it grazes your chin. A breath gets caught in your throat when he trails over your jawline, finding the spot beneath your ear so he can whisper. “Is he looking?”

You’re almost scared to look. Jake places his hand on your waist to give an encouraging squeeze, but to most, it seems like he’s feeling you up.

And when you find the courage to glance at Sunghoon, that’s exactly what he’s thinking now. Even from across the room, you can see his pupils blown wide. He’s stiff despite the girls chatting and kissing on his neck. They’re trying to tug him back onto the couch, their glossy lips pouting and pleading, but Sunghoon looks as though he’s about to run to you.

“Is he?” Jake’s accent snaps you back. You’re now conscious of his lips brushing your neck, how he switches from one side to the other to give the illusion of leaving you marks.

And shit, with how his fingers dig into your back, you kind of wish he would.

“Y-yeah. He looks pissed.”

You can feel how Jake’s chest rumbles with laughter, vibrating your own. He pulls away from you, but not far at all. His eyes stare into yours mischievously. You nearly forget that this is the boy who gets the best grades and is on his way to valedictorian, but being Sunghoon’s friend also means he likes to think with the head in his pants too.

“Good. Let’s give him something to get real mad at, yeah?”

And when he leans in, you welcome him. His head tilts down while your’s tilts up. His lips mold against yours roughly, shoving his tongue deep and exploring your taste.

You let out a squeak. Logically, it’s better to start hot and heavy. Make Sunghoon see how desperate you are for each other, but you yearn for the sweet kisses Sunghoon gave you. His tongue would caress your own, coaxing it into his mouth so your spit could mingle and mix, forming strings when you pulled away.

But with Jake, you let him take full reign. There was something almost…hot letting someone have control. Jake didn’t care how your teeth clashed or if drool seeped from the corner of your mouth. He licked it back in as if he expected it, putting his tongue on yours quickly. 

It took a moment for you to catch up with him. To move your lips so you could catch his muscle between them and suck. 

He shivered. You could tell Jake wanted to keep going with how his arms wrapped around your torso and pulled you close, but he broke away. “No wonder Sunghoon’s so fucking obsessed with you.”

Sunghoon. You turn to the side, forcing Jake to land on your cheek but he quickly recovers. You scan the couch for any sign of Sunghoon, but he’s gone. The girls who swarmed him now look dejected, their annoyance clear. 

But Sunghoon, where is he? You’re distracted by Jake’s mouth leaving open kisses on your neck and throat, but even then, Sunghoon should stick out like a sore thumb. 

Jake’s lips bush over a sensitive spot and you shiver. An involuntary moan escapes your swollen lips and he eagerly laps his tongue over the skin. His teeth bite hard enough to make you whine, but that’s nothing compared to the yelp Jake lets out when he’s suddenly ripped away. 

The loss of his body leaves you cold but Sunghoon’s fired eyes make you hot all over again.

He has Jake by the back collar of his shirt. The knuckles on his first are white as if begging to turn pink and red from letting his anger out on Jake’s pretty face.

Sunghoon doesn’t even have to say a thing. The look he gives his friend is full of warning and Jake straightens up immediately, nodding and silently surrendering to Sunghoon’s piercing gaze.

“She’s all yours, bro.” And with that, he leaves you with a wink.

Maybe it’s because of the arousal and adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you’re not as scared as you were before. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Sunghoon takes a step closer, anger dripping off his tone. “You’re sucking on my best friend's face and I’m not supposed to say anything?” 

The people around you two have moved away, a wise choice. 

You cross your arms. “Obviously not. I didn’t see you having an issue when those girls were all up on you. Why is it when I do?”

Sunghoon’s face morphs into cold humor. “Oh wow. What? You wanted to make me jealous or something?”

You burn red. “I did not!”

“You so did.” It feels like a punch in the gut when he laughs. “You think I give a fuck who you wanna make out with?”

“No shit you do. You wouldn’t have pulled him off me if you didn’t.”

Sunghoon’s eyes slide to your neck, right where Jake had been sucking. You doubt it’s purple, but you can bet your money it blooms with pink. You almost want to cover it with your hand, but you rather like the way Sunghoon’s jaw ticks. 

“I’m not arguing with you here.” Before you can argue that he can at all, he pulls you by the arm. He doesn’t even bother weaving through the crowd, he bustles through it. Most people move aside, but the drunks are pushed by his shoulders and left to mourn their spilled drinks.

You catch Sunoo’s eyes. He’s got a man attached to his back, grinding against him to the beat of the music, but Sunoo doesn’t sway his hips at all. There’s worry in his eyes. 

You shake your head and mouth, It's fine.

It’s all you get to say before Sunghoon drags you into the nearest room and shuts the door. Neither of you knows whose pad this is, the posters on the wall say it all. But Sunghoon walks around the room like he owns it.

Cocky bastard.

“I don’t want you around him again,” Sunhoon speaks with authority. “Don’t give me that shit and say you like him. I know damn well you don’t.”

You put your weight on one hip and huff. “And if I do? What? You’re gonna forbid me from speaking to him?”

“Yes.” Sunghoon stops pacing. “I haven't seen you in a month. And when I do, you’re trying to get in my friend’s pants?” Something like hurt echoes in his eyes. “I hate that.”

Fuck, you’re shaking. Your core trembles and though you try to blame the sensation on Jake, you know it’s Sunghoon’s dominating aura making your stomach clench. “You don’t think I hated seeing you with those girls? Letting them kiss you like they…like they own you? But I didn’t go over there and start a catfight, did I? No. You did. Acting like you’re my fucking boyfriend or something.”

He’s seething, and shit, you’ve never been so fired up. Anger and arousal mix within. Slick moistens your underwear seeing Sunghoon stride to you. Your stomach dips when he backs you against the wall.

You almost moan when his jaw tenses. 

“I’m trying really, really hard not to yell at you right now.” Sunghoon’s lips quiver when he takes a shaky breath. “I told you I didn't want a relationship. You said that was fine. Then all of a sudden, you start getting clingy and shit. Yeah, I think it’s cute, but then you dump me. Out of nowhere, out of the blue. So yeah, I let some chicks feel up on me to feel a little bit better about myself, and who do I get to see?” His upper lip twists into a snarl. “You.”

He’s leaned in close, neck bending and eyes boring into yours. Still, that does the opposite of intimidate you. “See? That’s the fucking issue. All you ever think about is yourself. You wanted a quick fuck. You wanted a relationship without the commitment. Did you ever think about how I felt being in this…weird fucking tango? Going to places with you, going over your apartment, telling you where I was and who I was with. But when it was me asking the questions, I was the crazy one. I was too clingy. Did you think I liked hearing that?”

The realization settles on him as if he never put himself in your shoes. It makes your chest burn with anger. 

“Exactly. You’re too selfish to even think about me.”

“That’s not true.” Sunghoon is quick to shoot you down. “That’s all I ever did.” His gaze softens and his hand leaves his side. You feel the back of it graze your cheek as if you’re something gentle.

Tears sting your eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not. But I know you don’t believe me.”

You recall Jake’s words. How he claimed Sunghoon chose you to be the only person he was sleeping with. It sounded improbable, but with the way he’s looking at you now, it feels like it could be true.

“But isn’t this what you would’ve wanted anyway? You get to do whatever you want without someone in your hair. The only reason it bothers you so much is because I’m the one that broke things off. You’re stupid ego couldn’t take it.”

It rings true. You see his eyes look at the floor ashamed, and you feel your heart break a little from his lack of rebuttal. 

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?” Your voice shakes. “Why are you so mad about me moving on?” A scoff breathes on your lips. “You’re acting as if you like me.”

You regret the words the moment they come out. Sunghoon’s entire face changes. Even the air in the room grows rigid, almost scared. His wide eyes tell you that you’re treading on dangerous territory. 

But once the lid opens, you find yourself pouring out. 

“You’ve never even said it. All this time, I was feeling like a burden. Like the thought of me other than sex was revolting to you. It sucked, but I put up with it.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Because you didn’t have to!” You yell for the first time. It sounds good to finally let your emotions show even if tears flow free. “Sunghoon, what aren’t you getting? It wasn’t just sex for me, not at the end. But you…you pushed me away.” Your throat hurts so much like it’s raw from screaming. “You made me feel like I was fucking insane.”

His face blurs, but you can make out the pain in his eyes. 

“I wanna hear you say it.” You blink the tears away. “Tell me.”

But Sunghoon gulps. For the first time, this cocky asshole is stunned. You’ve seen him get his way using his charm or confidence, but right now, it looks like he’d rather claw his skin to escape.

“Jake told me. About how you ditched your hookups when we were…seeing each other.” You’re throwing Jake under the bus, but you hope he’ll understand when Sunghoon inevitably rips him a new one. “He thought we were dating. Dating, Sunghoon. You can’t tell me you only thought of us as just sex.”

Seeing him turn into a puddle makes you both anxious and assertive. It makes you want to push him to confess while running away and pretending you never even saw him tonight. 

But only one of those options is possible. “Say it.”

Sunghoon’s hand trembles on your face. His mouth can’t decide whether it wants to yell or cry, but it’s silence he screams. It deafens your ears to the point that all you can hear is your heart drumming in your chest. You think you can hear his too if you try hard enough. 

The thumping of the party downstairs is the only noise you can rely on.

“You fucking coward. I should have never said yes to you.”

Escaping his arms will be easy. Sunghoon seems too stunned to do anything, but you’re quickly proven wrong when he cages you in and presses his body against yours. You mean to push his chest and yell, but the sight of his watery eyes stops you.

He can’t look at you. It’ll make the dam he tried so hard to build break. But he’ll be damned if you leave again.

“I…I’ve never dealt with something like this.” He closes his eyes. “I’ve never had to worry about someone. They weren’t even in my head. But when I met you…” Sunghoon has to take a deep breath. You feel his inhale on your face as if he’s breathing you in.

“It was the first time I cared about someone other than myself. It…It scared me. I wanted you close, but not too close. I wanted everyone to see that you were mine, but that I wasn’t yours.” He laughs humorlessly. “That sounds so fucked to say out loud.”

“But that’s what I was thinking. I was so fucked. I am fucked. I was- I am selfish.”

Sunghoon leans in. You inhale a sharp breath but it’s his forehead that meets yours. His weight feels good, almost perfect against your own.

You’ve missed the warmth of his skin, the beauty mark next to his eye that you can see so clearly. But it’s his eyes that hold the stars. 

“Especially now, because all I’m thinking about is how I can be yours again.”

There it is, his confession. Not that you can be his, but that he can be yours. It’s so subtle that you want to pretend it doesn’t count, but you can’t deny the way your heart flutters. How you yearn to feel his kiss again even if your lips are soaked with tears.

Sunoo’s voice rings in your head. You can perfectly hear him screaming at you to laugh. Tell him that you’re flattered, but you aren’t interested.

Hurt him how he hurt you.

But that’s not who you are. No, the person you are nods, wrapping arms around his neck and finally putting your lips where they ache to be.

It’s like they never forgot. Even in the weeks he hasn’t seen you, Sunghoon knows how to kiss you. His lips are gentle, hardly eager to taste your mouth. Jake may have known how to get the party started, but Sunghoon knows how to make you feel. It’s all too easy for him to tug at your heartstrings, making you move in any way he wants like a puppeteer. 

And it seems like you can do the same.

He opens his mouth when you do. He moves his tongue in time with yours. Sunghoon lets you hold the back of his neck so you can tilt his head, getting a better angle to suck on his tongue. 

He moans into your mouth. It sounds more than pleasure, but relief. As if he’s been aching for you just as you have been for him. You almost don’t want to believe it, but you pull another whine from him when you tug on his hair. 

The taste of saliva and tears dance on your tastebuds. It feels oddly comforting, the raw taste of emotion and need on your lips. You kiss him deeper, harder, until his hands find your waist and he backs into the bed. 

He pulls away to sit down but he’s quick to yank you onto his lap.

“Still like me on top, huh?” You can’t help but recall how Sunghoon used to constantly ask you to ride him. Facing him, reversed, it didn’t matter. He had both of his hands on you constantly, whether it was groping your breasts or ass. 

He smiles, “You know I never liked doing any of the work.”

To that, you groan. Sunghoon ignores your pretend displeasure to nip at your bottom lip, pulling the skin and watching it bounce back into place. 

His lips attack your neck, kissing and sucking every inch. He gently pulls on your hair to ensure no spot is left unmarked. You can’t help but notice he focuses on the spot between your shoulder and clavicle. 

Right where Jake left the faintest blemish.

You want to tease him, but all you can do is moan. He knows that’s your favorite spot. It’s so easy to get you to tremble, to grind on his hips like you’re doing right now. The only issue is that someone else knows too.

It bothers him. You can tell from how hard he’s sucking. Gently, you push his shoulder until he lets up, salvia on his lips as his cloudy eyes lock with yours. 

“If you’re gonna be that rough, I’d rather you do it here.” Putting your hands on the hem of your shirt, you tug it off. The material slips easily. You silently thank yourself for putting something on that wasn’t so tight. 

Your bra is plain, but your breasts still look divine in them. Sunghoon doesn’t wait for you to throw your shirt on the ground to get his mouth on you. His lips are hot on your skin, his tongue even hotter. The shirt slips from your hands to pool on the floor and your fingers thread in his hair. Sunghoon takes the pulls and tugs as compliments. 

His hands trail up your waist, moving away for a brief moment to spill your breasts the cups. 

And his hips dig into your cunt when he sees your nipples are already peaked. You watch him lick his lips, watch how his brain can’t decide whether he wants to stare or taste.

The decision is made for him when you press against his face. Sunghoon cups the sides to push your boobs in his face, tongue lavishing your supple flesh. 

“Fuck.” He doesn’t bother hiding his hips rocking into yours. He used to act like sex felt mediocre, but his raging boner gave him away every time. You thought it was funny how his uninterested eyes were completely different from the precum that slid down his cock when you stroked it, but this… this makes your stomach heat with exhilaration. 

One hand remains on your breast while the other slides to your hip. He presses you down on his erection and grinds. You know he can barely feel a thing with jeans in the way, but his hot breath wafts on your nipple like he hasn’t gotten his dick touched in forever. 

But you don’t dwell on it too much. It feels good just to have him suck on your bud and hit your clit. His tongue goes around your darkened flesh before he hollows his cheeks. You moan, moving at the same pace as his hips under you. 

You’re so wet. The slick sticks to your underwear so much that dry-humping him doesn’t feel uncomfortable. You’ve felt chafing before, how sometimes it would just rub the wrong way. But with Sunghoon, nothing is ever the wrong way. All you can think about is how good it feels, so much so that getting up to pull his cock out seems distant.

But you’ve missed the feel of his hard-on. It rubs your pussy just right and it’s all too easy to find the angle you know would make you finish.

And when Sunghoon bites on your nipples and pulls, you know you’ll cum soon. 

“Wait. Wait.” You tremble in his hold. Your voice sounds too weak. You don’t think he heard you, but you feel his mouth pull off your bud and his hips cease. It takes a moment to find your words, to ignore how your cunt screams at you from pulling away when you were so close. 

“Imma cum.”

Sunghoon grins. “Is that not good?”

You shake your head, still panting. “No. Too soon. I need it inside.”

The all-too-cocky smile finds his lips. It’s the one you loathe, but with your mind hazy and cunt pulsing, you can only be glad to see it. 

It means he’ll do anything he can to keep hearing you praise him.

“Yeah? Take it out for me then.” It’s almost condescending the way he speaks. You take a mental note to never feed his ego again.

But you don’t, not right away. You stand on unsteady legs instead. The shorts clinging to your legs feel uncomfortable and you sigh in relief when unbuttoning them. You don’t bother making a show getting undressed, but Sunghoon watches like it’s award-winning.

Strings of arousal cling to your underwear when you slide them off. The cool air hits your cunt unwelcomed and you let the clothes pile with your shirt.

“Fuck, baby.” He bites on his lower lip before clenching his teeth. “You look so pretty for me.”

You shyly giggle. You suppose it’s okay if he strokes your ego.

He wants you back on his lap. You can see his eyes planning all the ways he wants to ravish you, but you have other ideas in mind. “Your turn.”

Sunghoon looks confused at first, but he quickly sees what you mean. His lips twitch, almost wanting to say, I told you to take it out for me, but he doesn’t. You see him nod, shrugging his shirt over his head and wiggling out of his jeans all on his own.

Good, he’s learning. 

Sitting back on his lap is a reward. Grabbing the base of his cock is a silent, appreciated gesture when you line him up.

Sunghoon finds your waist fast, unable to keep his hands off for even a second. He waits as you slap the tip on your clit. It elicits a hum from your lips and you look into his eyes in a daze. There’s need in them. His blown-wide pupils match your own. 

And when you sink down, he moans.

Restless hands dig into your flesh. Sunghoon doesn’t try to set a pace at all. He lets the sounds of your bodies meeting match your tempo. 

You wanted to go slow, you did. You heard his confession, you tasted his tears, so it’s obvious that you wanted to explore his body in the deepest ways he never let you. 

But with the music blasting downstairs and the adrenaline of being in someone else’s room, you can’t help but lift your ass and slam it down. The head of his cock barely has time to get acquainted with your pussy. It glides all too quickly to properly bury into your cervix. 

Not that you really mind. You can feel the veins and curve of his crown rub your walls this way. 

He leans back, propping with one elbow while the other stays on your hip. You smile when you see him looking at your breasts. They’re love-bitten, riddled with bruises that go to your neck. 

Sunghoon looks like a painter admiring his work.

“You look so fucking good.” He licks his bottom lip. “I’ve missed you.”

You burn with praise. It makes you ride faster, leaning forward so your arms cage him between them. Your hair forms a curtain around your flushed face that Sunghoon pushes away. 

Maybe it’s his eyes you’re supposed to look at, but you’re captivated by his body. His defined chest twinges with pink. His stomach clenches in pleasure, the hard lines of his abs making an appearance. 

You don’t know how you manage to push him down completely. Your hands pin his shoulders with ease and all he can do is helplessly grip your thighs as you ride him.

“Likewise.”

He lets out a strangled moan that you suppose is him laughing. Sunghoon furrows his eyebrows at the new angle. He’s able to hit you deeper this way, his cock buries in your cervix nicely.

But even with the sight of your pussy creaming around him and pooling on his pelvis, he can still playfully glare. “Asshole.”

You giggle like it’s a pet name. Expecting him to change overnight would be foolish. But even then, you somewhat like the arrogant fool you’ve fallen in love with.

So you say nothing in return. Instead, you lean closer. His lips are swollen and you suck on them. His tongue messily swipes in your mouth when you open it. The kiss is nothing more than a way to be closer, to moan into each other's mouth as Sunghoon finally moves his hips.

And it feels like everything on your body is on fire. Your knees were getting tired, the burn in your thighs barely tolerable. Now, all you have to do is hover while Sunghoon thrusts. It feels deeper than what’s possible. Like the pleasure travels from your cunt to your head.

The pain in your legs numb and the only thing on your mind is how good Sunghoon is fucking you. Your walls clench, oozing with so much release that you think he might slip out, but he doesn’t.

“Right there!” The sound below should drown out your cries, but you don’t care if anyone hears you. “Fuck me harder! Pleasepleaseplease…”

You don’t have to beg, but Sunghoon likes it when you do. Your cunt spasms and warms until the heat floods his cock. A drawn-out moan tumbles from your lips that he eats. You’re panting and whining while his tongue invades your mouth. Salvia drips from your chin, but you can’t even notice with how he’s still fucking into you.

And just when you feel lightheaded, he cums. It’s too late for him to pull out, too late to stroke himself on your face to completion. Still, he tries to save it.

Sunghoon slips out while still squirting from his tip. The strings shoot your inner thigh and his caving stomach.

He’s still breathing hard when he kisses you, ignoring how his chest screams for oxygen. And when he pulls away, the first thing he looks at is your cunt. Sunghoon should feel worried that half of his cum is in your womb, but when watches it drip from your swollen pussy, he feels proud.

“Yeah,” he says to himself. You feel deft fingers play with your folds soon after. Sunghoon laughs when you squeal from overstimulation, but he shoves the cum back in anyway. 

You almost can’t feel his fingers. Your walls are mostly numb, but you still moan and tremble from his knuckles gliding in and out of you.

He buries his digits until all they can do is wiggle. “Keep it in. I want you to walk out of here with my cum dripping out.”

If you had more energy, you’d groan. Seems like he still has a lot to learn.

[unluckycactus]

You know, I've been thinking about OG!Cale's deal with GoD for a while now. And the more I think about it, the more unfair it is to me?

GoD literally reached out to Og!Cale when he was the most vulnerable, after he had lost everything and quite casually put the faith of the world on his shoulders.

GoD literally swept in in his time of need and went 'give up your life and I will save your world' like a total fraudulent bastard

For real tho, GoD literally put Og!Cale between a rock and a hard place. It was one of these instances in which the other side was presented with the illusion of freedom, because let's be real: Og!Cale was basically coerced into taking the deal.

It is presented to us as if Og!Cale really just threw away his world and life at the opportunity of reuniting with his mother, but that's not really what happened, is it? His mother's reincarnation was just an incentive to take said deal, but he only took the deal after being reassured that his world would be saved

Now, let's say Og!Cale still refused the deal. Then what?

Realistically speaking, what could've Og!Cale done by just regressing? GoD never offered him the same help he handed over KRS (aka the awfully descriptive and full of 'useless details' novel that set Cale's initial course of action) and thus that was never a path open for Og!Cale

Of course, I am by no means discrediting KRS, because the novel was just a guide and the results he got is all his own merit. He efficiently used the information provided, instead of doing a total redo like many other MCs do, and I love him for that

But that's the thing, it was never a matter of which soul was more competent to handle the task in the first place. It not that Og!Cale wasn't competent enough to save his own world

It was always about what would work best for GoD's own agenda and fix his own problems

Because, allow me to recap but:

Og!Cale got reverse isekaied, which is like ten times harder to pull off if you ask me.

We're talking about a literal fantasy boomer being thrown in the modern apocalyptic age, and worse, bro is in the body of someone pretty important (no matter how hard KRS tried to downplay it). If he half-asses his new job, it's gonna be a problem for sure

He has incomplete information on his hands. The impressive part is that, regardless, HeniRoksoo still manages to do KRS' work properly. Jang Sejong says so in the side stories

So it was never an issue of Og!Cale not being competent. The GoD definitely could have arranged a deal that didn't involve KRS at all, he just didn't do it that way because it wasn't convenient for him

I guess GoD did it this way to fix the problem with the White Star's curse affecting KRS, which I get, but idk

I'd like more people to acknowledge that Og!Cale didn't willingly screw KRS over, but was put in a difficult position himself

I know Og!Cale would take all the blame and paint himself as the selfish bastard who stole KRS!Cale's body, if asked, bc is very on brand on him, but I need more ppl to see through his bullshit and beat into Og!Cale skull that he got taken advantage of, too

[jeankluv]

You are my dad - Gojo Satoru & Fushiguro Megumi

summary: Megumi finally gets the courage to tell Gojo how he really views him

words: 0,6k

tags: manga spoilers for chapter 268, dad-son dynamic, Megumi’s pov and centric, canon fixed, a bit angst (?), happy ending

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Megumi hesitated on whether to go to him or not, it hadn't been more than five minutes since Gojo had returned to his body and of course everyone had wanted to welcome him, but he was still standing there, while he looked at him from a distance and felt a shiver run through his body as he remembered the last time he had seen his benefactor, but was he really?

Being in the abyss, alone, he had thought about everything, about his sister and about that eccentric man who 10 years ago, had appeared at his house and welcomed him and Tsumiki under his cloak.

For years he thought he only did it because he was interested, but as the years started to go by he felt like Gojo Satoru was truly fond of him and his sister. He would take them to the park, he would help him with his technique and encourage him with it.

Gojo never pressured him into anything and he always made sure they were okay, happy, healthy, etc..

Maybe Gojo Satoru never realized it, but there was a point where he stopped being the young twenty-something who paid their bills and became an important part of Megumi and Tsumiki's lives. Megumi didn't want to acknowledge it and only realized it when he saw Gojo's lifeless body on the ground. Megumi felt like many things had been left unsaid, his personality hadn't let him express himself properly.

But now Gojo Satoru was there, smiling as if nothing happened.

“Oh! Megumi!” His soft tone called him. “I’m so happy to see you are okay…” Gojo started to walk towards Megumi. “That Sukuna…”

Megumi couldn't take it anymore and hugged Gojo as if he were a little child again, a child seeking refuge in his parents' arms. He heard his friends in the room being surprised and Gojo standing still for a moment, but that didn't last long because Gojo quickly hugged him back.

“Wow, who would have thought that Megumi would react like that when he saw me again.” Gojo joked.

“That letter…” Megumi began, he didn’t know exactly how to say what he wanted to express correctly, but he could feel his sister's courage hand on his shoulder, telling him to keep going.

Gojo looked at him with a question mark drawn on his face. “Huh?” And then something turned on in him. “Oh that, yeah your dad, he…”

Megumi took a deep breath and shook his head. “You didn’t kill him.”

“Pretty sure I did.” Gojo said. “I’m pretty sure I used purple…”

“No, you didn’t… because you are my dad. And you are still here.” Megumi finally said it.

The room fell completely silent and Megumi completely separated himself from Gojo, looking at his face that was in a trance-like state.

Gojo carefully turned to Ieiri. “Shoko could you slap me? I think I’m still dead.”

“Sure…” Ieiri put her cigarette aside and slapped Gojo in the face.

“Ouch!” Gojo cried out. “That was hard!”

“You asked for it.”

“It seemed like you were just ready to do it.” Gojo said, and Ieiri simply smiled.

“You deserved it, for putting all of us through so much stress.”

Gojo rolled his eyes. “Whatever…” And turned back to Megumi. “Megumi… you… really see me like your father?”

Megumi felt embarrassed talking about that in front of everyone. “I guess…” He shrugged.

“Oh…”

“Wait! Gojo-sensei is crying?!” Kugisaki screamed.

“Oh it’s true!” Itadori said this time. “Gojo-sensei made Fushiguro laughed and Fushiguro made Gojo-sensei cry. Amazing.”

“I made you laugh?!” Gojo wiped his tears away. “When?!”

“With that silly letter, well it wasn’t even a letter but yeah you did.”

“Oh my.” Gojo gasped. “And you see me as your dad, ah! I’m so glad to be back.” Gojo hugged Megumi once again. “Are you going to start calling me dad?”

“No way!”

“Why not? How about calling me dad Satoru?”

“No!”

“Okay, okay, dad Gojo?”

“No!”

Megumi separated from him and started to run away while he smiled and Gojo followed him still giving names.

“Alright, how about dad Gojo Satoru, nah that sounds terrible.”

“No.”

“Dadjo!”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Note: I really needed to write this, I really need them to reunite and be happy as the father son duo they are 😭

[make-me-imagine]

Headcanons + One Shot: Crush {R.Z}

Scenarios/Headcanons + One Shot: What Zoro is like when he has a crush on you

Pairing: OPLA Roronoa Zoro x Gn!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Words: 1.5k (Headcanons ~400 ; One Shot 1.1k)

Zoro is well aware of his feelings, BUT he does not portray them in the way he thinks he does.

When he realized he had feelings for you, and that they were not going to go away anytime soon, he decided to embrace them.

You noticed a slight change in his behavior towards you.

He would talk to you more often, listen to you more closely than before.

He could compliment or encourage you more often, even if it was in a 'Zoro' kind of way.

'Hey at least you didn't fall off the ship this time.' 'Good job, next time you might actually succeed.' 'That was an improvement from last time at least.'

Though you noticed the way he changed, you were not aware it was because he had feelings for you. You assumed he had just accepted you as a friend.

Not that you were complaining, you weren't. You had a crush on the green haired swordsman from the beginning.

So any improvement was great.

In Zoro's mind, the meaning behind his actions were obvious.

So when you did not reciprocate, or seem to acknowledge them, he was afraid you did not feel the same.

His nonchalant behavior, slowly became more desperate.

Especially when you seemed to be growing closer to Sanji.

Zoro hated the idea of not receiving your affections, but not receiving them because of him, almost infuriated him.

And just as quickly as Zoro acted more friendly towards you, he was suddenly more withdrawn, though, you noticed the way he would silently hang round you.

Now you were even more confused.

There were no more compliments, no more casual conversations. But he always went with you wherever you went.

If you split up on an island, he would go with you. If you were hanging out in the kitchen with Sanji, Zoro would be sitting at the table, often glaring at Sanji, though this was no different than before. During a fight Zoro would remain close to your side.

His behavior constantly threw you through a loop and you weren't sure what to do about it.

"So what did you do to Zoro this time?" You asked Sanji as you leaned against the railing of the ship.

Sanji huffed as he reeled in his fishing line.

You glanced over to Zoro, who was lying on the railing of the ship across from you, his eyes glaring at Sanji as if he was trying to push him into the water with just his mind.

"I don't think it's me who did something."

You gave him a quizzical stare and he smirked. You pointed at yourself "Me?"

He nodded as he chuckled. "He only glares at me like that when you are around. Otherwise he usually leaves me alone."

You furrowed your brow as you looked back over at Zoro, catching him looking away like he had been caught.

"I don't get it, what does he think is happening?"

"Maybe he thinks I am harassing you. He does seem particularly protective over you."

It was your turn to laugh. "Protective of me? Zoro?"

Sanji nodded with a wide smile, "Don't tell me you didn't notice how he follows you around everywhere."

"Wh- well yeah but...I didn't really think much of it I guess."

"Well you should start."

Sanji's words lingered with you throughout the day, and more and more, you noticed Zoro's attention on you. You had noticed it before, but never to its actual extent.

Even though he had withdrawn from talking to you as much, his eyes followed you everywhere, and he was always within earshot of you. Anywhere you looked, he was nearby, napping, drinking, sharpening his swords, lounging.

And now, as you were fixing a tear in one of the sails, he was lying about ten feet away, appearing as though he was asleep, though you knew better now.

Distracted by your gaze on him, you let out a hiss as you stabbed yourself with your needle. Zoro's eyes shot open at the sound as he looked over at you.

As you looked at the small hole in your finger, a shadow crossed over you. Looking up you saw Zoro staring down at you and your heart skipped a beat.

Crouching down, Zoro took your hand as he looked at your finger. Butterflies swirled through your stomach, "It's just a small poke."

Zoro looked up and met your eyes, "You should still be careful."

You nodded silently, your eyes locked with his. Clearing his throat, he let go of your hand and rose to leave.

"Zoro."

He stopped in his tracks before looking back down at you. Your gaze made his heart flip.

"Did I do something?"

He frowned as he looked down at you, wracking his own brain to understand what you meant.

"What?"

You swallowed nervously, "Well, before, you were so talkative to me, and nice, and then suddenly you stopped. I was just wondering if I did something."

Zoro hadn't realized you noticed he withdrew from you and guilt washed over him. "You didn't do anything."

"Then why? I thought we had finally gotten closer."

He let out a soft sigh before he stepped forward and knelt back down in front of you. He tilted his head to the side as he gazed at you, making your ears and neck grow hot.

"I-" as he hesitated, uncertain of what to say, you gaze patiently at him, only making him feel more nervous.

He let out a sigh as he hung his head, "I don't know what to say."

You smiled softly, "You've never really been good with words. So let me help."

Looking up, his heart flipped at the sight of the soft smile on your lips.

"You started treating me differently, more friendly than before. Then, all of a sudden you stopped. Yet you still seem to always be around me."

The more you spoke, the more unevenly his heart raced.

"And, any time I'm with Sanji, you look as though you could throw him overboard. Though, that is not entirely out of character, it seems to be for a different reason then usual."

Zoro swallowed nervously as he looked around, glad it was still just the two of you on deck.

"Zoro."

His eyes shot back to yours and he could see you repressing a smile.

"Why is it so hard to tell me you like me?"

Zoro seemed to freeze for a moment as he took in your words. Why was it so hard? You obviously figured it out, and you didn't seem to be repulsed by it. So, would it be okay?

"I- I don't know."

His comment was an admittance in itself and your heart raced painfully fast. You bit the inside of your lip, waiting for him to say more, hoping he would.

"I've never felt this before."

You saw the way he was wringing his hands nervously.

"This?"

He let out a soft sigh, you really weren't gonna give up till he said it clearly huh? His lips curled as he met your eyes again.

"When I see you my heart races, quicker, more painful than even when I'm in the middle of a fight. My hands get sweaty, I forget my words. When you enter the room I feel my breath vanish, and when you leave the room I feel the overwhelming urge to follow you. I want to be around you all the time, I want to watch over you, protect you, keep you safe and sound. I want to see you smile and hear you laugh, and I want to be the cause of it. I want-"

Realizing the bright look in your eyes and the way you were repressing a grin, his chest tightened and a smile spread across his own face.

He let out a soft sigh. "I want to keep feeling these things. They scared me at first, but I want to keep feeling them. I want this. I want-... I want you."

Allowing the grin you had been repressing to stretch across your face your eyes were shining with excitement and emotion. "If you were feeling all of those things why did you distance yourself?"

He sighed, "You seemed to be getting close to the waiter."

You giggled softly, "We're friends, crew-mates, but I don't have feelings for him if that's what you were worried about."

"You don't?" You shook your head, "Any?"

You shook your head again with a soft chuckle, "None at all. Any feelings like that are reserved for someone else."

Zoro swallowed as he cleared his throat. "Anyone I know?"

"You might! Tall, swordsman, green hair, quiet, not great with words or emotions."

Zoro chuckled, "Sounds like a catch."

"I think so."

Zoro moved closer to you, his eyes scanning your face, "And if this guy finally get's his head out of his ass and asks you out?"

You grinned at him, "Then I would gladly say yes."

"Well it's a good thing he has then."

"Yes, it is."

xx End xx

Kind of an odd ending, but whatever lol its my first time writing anything on this blog for a while.

General Taglist:  @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry, 

One Piece Taglist: @fangirlextraordinaire, @smileykiddie08 Zoro: @murnsondock,

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