#challengers wrestling au

[wormswurld]

| artrick as wrestlers 🤼 | blurb turned accidental oneshot (?) | 1.4k words | mwah! 🌟 |

art is the new kid to the team and everyone (including patrick) underestimates him.. one time patrick watches art absolutely lay out a guy twice his size and has an “oh shit this guy is actually good moment” but he lets his superiority complex get in the way and makes it his duty to provoke art so he can wrestle him & prove to his team “hey i’m still the best player!”…

cut to the locker rooms and pat is eyeing the shit out of art, thinking of what he’s gonna say to art to essentially have him “back down” and maybe even quit the team cuz patrick is ‘so’ strong and intimidating… “hey donaldson!” and art just turns around, hair still wet from his shower, towel hanging on his hips, looking as unfazed as everrrr “i know you think you’re hot shit ‘cuz of practice, but you have nothing on me or this team..” and patrick makes the nastiest face he can to try and get his point across, puffing out his chest and widening his stance (looking like an idiot)… and art just sees right through him, making his way over to pat, expressionless face, yet patrick could tell there was something in his eyes.. “you’re no threat to me…” art presses closer to patrick’s face, making sure patrick can feel his warm breath, “zweig..” perfectly pronouncing patrick’s last name (which is a shock and a turn on to him) before forcefully brushing shoulders with him as he grabs his stuff to go get ready in another part of the locker room

now cut to art’s first match with the team and patrick is dreading potentially looking like an idiot in front of his teammates & whole school but all he can do is shake his head trying to rid himself of his thoughts, and in the corner of his eye he sees art staring at him like hawk… okay fuck now patrick is sweating a little because why do you mean this pretty-face piece-of-shit- donaldson is looking at him but all art does is mouth “good luck” before their coach puts his hand on patrick’s shoulder and asks “are you ready to get in there?” and pat just quickly nods as a way of reassuring himself “yeah yeah i was born ready” and the coach just laughs “that’s what i like to hear, now get your ass in there” blah blah blah wrestling stuff blah blah patrick is wrestling some guy, doing a pretty good job to be honest, but the guy he’s s with starts to realize fuck i don’t have a chance of winning so he does some sort of an illegal move (idfk just walk with me) and he immediately gets disqualified…

and patrick’s cocky ass just stands up and starts celebrating like he just won the lottery or some shit but his coach quickly stops him and motions to art on the bench “donaldson, in, boys finish this out” quadruple major fuck cuz patrick is actually going to wrestle art but he can’t let his thoughts take over, let’s not act like a little bitch now… and once the coach says go art is immediately on patrick, pinning him down by his arms, letting all his weight fall onto his legs rendering patrick stuck like a rat in a glue trap… now patrick’s starting to get nervous because he’s supposed to be pinning art down + he can feel art’s dick press into his leg and he really really doesn’t need this right now but he somehow ends up getting art into a headlock for a good couple of seconds…

continuing the headlock patrick and his big mouth does what it does best: shit talk; “what happened blondie, get too scared? gonna give up?” and art just laughs up in patrick’s face as he does some magician shit and has his legs hooked around patrick’s (as if they are scissoring…..sorrrryyyy) and art just smiles, sweat trickling down his shaped nose as he now laughs at patrick, somehow still finding some room/flexibility to get closer to patrick art places his arm above patrick’s shoulder, looking down at the flushed, furrowed browed brunette under him…

at this point patrick feels like he’s in hell because not only is he losing to the new guy, he’s doing it in front of the whole school, while being wildly turned on by the fact he’s being pinned down by said new guy… and god art is all sweaty and he can smell his musk from his armpit which is right by his head, fuck he’s dizzy.. “what happened to being mr. tough guy? didn’t know you enjoyed being pinned down by… such hot shit, isn’t that right pat?” and art sees patrick’s eyes roll back momentarily before he hears their coach shout “time!”… and before patrick knows is art is off of him, leaving him sweaty, panting, and hard in his uniform on the mat.. slowly patrick cranes his head over to see him being awarded a medal and congratulated by their team….

flash forward to the dreaded locker room patrick is showering in the last stall (he can’t bear to see nor hear his teammates congratulate art and hit him with the “better luck next time zweig”) “hey zweig” patrick wants to die. preferably right now. patrick slightly turns to art, continuing to wash his body, just waiting for art to insult him and his big ego and leave him alone to sulk… and probably jerk off,, “you put up a good fight out there, y’know, with the headlock and everything?” art drawls, leaning himself on the half wall of the shower, smugly grinning at patrick… “just fuck off alright, i know what you’re here for donaldson” patrick spits of, turning his back to art as he starts to lather his head with shampoo…

silently making his way to the shower beside patrick, art places his lips just shy away from patrick’s ear, “and just what would that be?” and stupidly, patrick slightly jumps with surprise, art’s warmth breath returning on his skin makes him embarrassingly hard (again)… unable to open his eyes patrick just tries his best to speed run his shower, washing the heaps of shampoo out of his hair before art starts to fuck with him even more… “because, if you think about it, i think you actually like me being here…talking to you as you try to hide how hard your dick is from me..” patrick quickly wipes his eyes, which then begin to sting, as he opens his mouth to respond “ah- no talking, you did enough of that out there patrick, it’s time for me to do the talking, can you handle that for once?”

“fuck, please just-" patrick starts, before getting cut off by art once again, slowly leaning in to turn off patrick’s running shower head “just what? leave you the fuck alone? what makes you think i’ll do that, it’s not like you’ve given me that pleasure since i’ve joined huh? i see the way you look at me zweig, don’t try to hide it now” backing himself into the wall patrick rolls his eyes, this is fucking stupid, so fucking stupid.. “look man-�� he gets up from the wall, sizing art up, with his dick out and everything… “i’m not a fucking pansy okay, now just fuck right the fuck off before we have a problem” art just grins, a big cheshire cat-like grin, self-satisfied by how wound up he’s got the boy before him… “problem? you talk as if you’re gonna do something, i think the problem is that you might be scared of you dick filling up when i’m on top of you” and patrick just turns his head away, blush creeping down his neck as art stares at his naked body…“look, it’s even doing it now..” art whispers, humiliating patrick further,, his dick heavily resting on the tuft of black hair on his naval…

“fuck you, j-just touch me alright, get it over with..” patrick groans as art makes his hand down his chest, tracing over every freckle, making sure to push on his nipple in the process… “oh patrick,” art coos “come on now, we both know you want this… been wanting this for awhile now” and patrick’s breath hitches as he rolls his head to the side, quickly grabbing his length art applies more pressure getting another strained groaned out of patrick “answer me pat, don’t take all day” and patrick just mumbles out a series of yeah’s as art starts to stroke him, their heavy breathing filling up the empty, foggy, locker room…

fin.

-

some moots i thought of while writing this: @judeable-brainrot @ghostgirl-22 @cairngorm-ard 💖

[smilesrobotlover]

Some love at twilight stuff with the fam. Rusl and Uli are cute, Colin is an annoying little brother, and Kori and Rela are bffs and do everything together. I love them all.

[starry-bi-sky]

Another Danyal Al Ghul art dump! Minor compared to other ones but I quite like these ones.

[spaceman-spaetzle]

from the pruaus husbands au:

gilbert would so get adopted by a posse of birdwatching queer and lesbian transmascs. so here is a silly doodle of gil introducing one of his friends to his husband. jesper (nyo!den) (he/they) has a lot of questions for rod abt going on t!

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Halloween Headcanons 2023: The Crow! Raven ( Scott Levy) AU

A/N : The plot is basically the one of the movie but I made some changes, to include the wrestling aspect more.

Raven is not a rockstar like Eric but a wrestler. He and his partner get killed because Raven wanted to expose Extreme Championship Wrestling for drug dealing and injuring wrestlers on purpose. Just like the movie he is brought back to avenge him and his lover.

The four killers are Rob Van Dam, The Dudleys ( Bubba and D-Von) and New Jack. Meanwhile it is discovered that the two masterminds behind the murder are Paul Heyman ( owner of ECW) and Raven's best friend Sandman.

Tommy Dreamer is the sergeant who's trying to solve the case and that will meet Raven. While Phil Brooks is "Sarah", the young boy whom Raven and his partner take care of.

Raven's revenge comes in a very interesting way: he wants to kill his enemies with the use or involving wrestling weapons: Rob Van Dam gets his skull cracked with a steel chair; New Jack gets strangled with barbed wire; D-Von is tied to a table and then set on fire.

Bubba is the only exception since he gets killed during the gunfight that erupts once Raven crashes Paul Heyman's meeting.

Phile gets kidnapped like Sarah but he is taken to an ECW arena where Paul and Sandman are waiting. Raven goes to rescue him but the crow is wounded by one of Paul's henchmen.

Stevie Richards and Blue Meanie are two unlikely allies and old friends of Raven. They are the ones to give Raven the idea to grab the old cross he intended to use for a promo before dying. They also have the job to tell the real story of ECW once everything is done.

Tommy arrives at the arena and soon finds Phil in a room with two armed men. The sergeant gets injured but he manages to save Phil.

While Paul escapes to his office to burn all the proof, Sandman confronts Raven who tossed the cross in the ring. They fight until Raven stabs Sandman and sets him up on the cross. He craves "ECW is shit" on his chest before leaving him to die.

Paul gets confronted while he's waiting for the helicopter he requested to show up. He will admit he killed Raven because he didn't want him to have success elsewhere and because he would have made anyone else turn against him.  Raven causes Paul to fall from the roof by transferring all his pain to him.

Phil accompanies Tommy to the hospital, Stevie and Meanie make public all the documents Paul didn't manage to destroy and Raven can finally come back to his grave and return to the afterlife.

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 Your Best American Girl (Gia Gunn/Laganja Estranja) - Lita 

Summary: Life on the road is fucking lonely, and Laganja thinks it’s killing her. Gia is adrift in a foreign country, trying and failing to stake out a career. Friendship can be found in the unlikeliest of places - namely a high school gym in Delaware. Femme Fatale Wrestling AU. 

A/N: This is essentially the Pretty Dope origin story that I’ve been sitting on half-finished for months. This is set five or six years before the main story iirc, while Gia and Ganja are still working on the indie circuit before getting signed by Femme Fatale. I love these morons and put way too much thought into their respective backstories, and I wish they got less villain-coded airtime in the main story (which won’t be the case for much longer, I promise) so this was stupid fun to write. Re: the song from which I lifted the title and lyrics, Your Best American Girl by Mitski has always been Gia/Ganja crack to me - it was written from the POV of struggling to meet eurocentric beauty standards as a woman of colour trying to date white men, but I think it can also read as a trans narrative and the ‘all-American boy’ line really evokes angst and shit about FFW!Laganja for me, so it’s always really inspired me while writing the two of them. Anyway, hope you all enjoy! <3

CW: Transphobia 

Your mother wouldn’t approve

Of how my mother raised me,

But I do, I think I do. 

**** 

There’s something a little disarming about wandering around in a high school after hours. The fluorescent lit hallway leading out of the gymnasium is overbearingly bright and creepily empty. Laganja makes slow, unsteady progress towards the door leading out to the parking lot; one of the wheels of her suitcase fell off while she was trying to get it out of her car earlier, and dragging it around lopsided was proving nothing short of a fucking nightmare.

The show had been far from bad, but she’d just hit her limit - at least it’s only five minutes’ drive to her hotel, maybe fifteen if she goes via McDonald’s like she’s planned. She has a pre-rolled joint in her backpack, and nowhere to be until eleven am the next morning. Then another hours-long drive to the next gig out in the back of beyond, to another shitty match in a shitty school gymnasium or community centre - rinse and repeat. She’d been living out of a suitcase for the better part of a month already, with another two weeks to go before she’d next see the inside of her apartment. She wasn’t at all mad at the payout, but it felt like a lot of work for money she was spending most of on gas and takeout. A little bit of her missed being a ‘real’ athlete - it wasn’t nearly this lonely. 

A lot of her missed it, actually. Back then, she’d had teammates to keep her company, and she didn’t have to pay for her own accommodation. Or travel. Or gear. These days, she’s never a standout - just a replaceable body at the bottom of a card, never in the same place more than once. No foundations, no friends. She misses being treated like she mattered. 

The scandal had died down since last year - she was finding it easier to get gigs, and could look at her social media without having a panic attack - but it didn’t make things much easier. She was just a little less radioactive than she had been after being kicked off the Olympic team. Rebuilding her life was taking time. 

Laganja rounds a corner, still fighting with her suitcase - a loud voice catches her off-guard and she stops dead; ducking behind a row of lockers. It’s a guy’s voice, brash and angry. She doesn’t really want to get herself involved in whatever the fuck this is. At least not until she’s figured out what’s going on. 

“What part of leave me the fuck alone don’t you understand?” 

“Babe, wait-“ A female voice this time; equally loud and a little abrasive, but with a distinct edge of fear that makes Laganja nervous.  

“I’m not your fucking babe- don’t touch me!”

Laganja hears the crash of a body slamming into metal, and winces - craning her neck to peer down the hall. The feminine voice belongs to that Japanese chick she’d worked a match with earlier that night - Gia something? She couldn’t work out at the time whether or not she liked her - she’d stiffed her a little in the ring, and had been pretty closed-off and hard to talk to backstage. Her lip is trembling, and there’s already black streaks of mascara running down her face. The guy has just shoved her into the lockers - pinning her in place with a hand roughly grasped around her shoulder. The other is raised like he’s about to punch her. Laganja’s stomach drops. 

“Look, can’t we figure this out?“ Gia’s voice is shaking.

“There’s nothing to figure out - I’m not a fucking homo, okay? So back the fuck off. I’m leaving.” 

“But my-“

“I don’t give a shit,” he snarls. “Stop following me around like a lost fucking puppy - we’re done.” 

“How the fuck am I gonna get home-“ 

“I don’t care! You fucking lied to me!”

Gia whimpers. Fuck this - Laganja steps out from where she’d been hiding; this feels like it’s about to get ugly, and she can’t just stand around and let that happen. She tries to say something, but the words get stuck in her throat, standing about ten feet away from them as her mouth opens and closes like a guppy, trying to string a sentence together with her fists clenched by her sides. 

Doesn’t matter - the guy sees her there, and his eyes widen. He practically sprints towards the door; shoving it open with his shoulder and letting it slam behind him. Gia crumples against the lockers. As soon as he’s out of eyeshot, Laganja drops her case, making straight for Gia. She’s sitting on the ground; hugging her knees and crying. Laganja crouches down at her side. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” 

She looks up, sniffing a little. She’s still wearing her ring gear, a black and red high-necked two-piece, with an oversized hoodie shrugged over the top.

“I’m fine,” she murmurs, avoiding eye contact with Laganja as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Is he-“

“Fuck off,” Gia pulls away sharply from the hand that Laganja had placed on her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry - I don’t want to shove my nose into your business or anything, but like…hey, weren’t we in a match together earlier?” 

The brunette gives a nonplussed shrug; pulling out her phone from the pocket of her hoodie and wiping away her running mascara with  the aid of her front camera. Laganja fishes a travel pack of Kleenex out of her backpack and offers it to her. She takes it begrudgingly, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Laganja sits down on the floor next to her, crossing her legs and leaning against the locker. 

“You’re doing a really bad job at fucking off,” Gia observes. 

“I heard most of your conversation - I figured you don’t have a ride home, or anywhere to sleep tonight, and I’m not gonna leave you stranded out here in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. I’m waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass and realise that I’m trying to help you, okay?” 

The brunette cracks half a smile. 

“Bitch.”

“Takes one to know one,” Laganja smirks. “What’s your name?” 

“You seriously did not forget what my name is after an hour-“

“No, I mean your real one.” She gives a bemused laugh. Pro wrestling etiquette is a language she’s still trying to decipher - she’s not sure whether or not that’s something she should have asked, but the question is out there now. There’s probably a stupid made-up word for the question she’d been trying to ask. Shoot name? She thinks that’s maybe it. “Mine’s Lucy, by the way.” 

“It’s still Gia,” she replies, a little thorny. Then: “I’m gonna stick with calling you Laganja, though. That’s funnier.” 

“Thanks,” Ganja rolls her eyes. She turns to Gia, her face turning a little more serious. “So, what’s going on?” 

“With what?” Gia says, her tone half uncertain and half sharply defensive. 

“You know - that guy. Looked pretty bad from where I was standing.”

“Oh, Trey’s my boyfriend. Or well, I guess was. I…” she sighs, chewing over her words a little. “One of the- look, why the fuck am I telling you this?” 

“Because I wanna help,” Laganja replies simply. Gia purses her lips. 

“One of the guys backstage told him something about me that I wasn’t ready to tell him, and he got mad, okay? So it’s basically my fault.” 

“What the fuck could they have told him that made him that mad?” Laganja raises her eyebrows. “None of that was okay.” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Gia hugs her knees. 

“Listen - I just met you, and after tonight we’re probably never gonna see each other again. Who am I gonna tell? It’s just between us.” Gia doesn’t seem impressed. Laganja offers a hand out to her. “Pinkie swear.”

Gia looks a little wary, hushing her voice and ignoring the childish proffered hand. “I…I’m transgender. I was like, born a guy. It’s not something I wanna make a big deal of, it’s just that-“

Laganja has to hold in a laugh, realising that now might not be the right time. 

“Seriously? Bitch, me too!” 

Gia looks taken aback. 

“Shut up,” she says, shrinking away from Laganja. Fuck. She thinks she’s mocking her. 

“I’m not kidding - honest to god.” Gia eases up a little. “And by the way, wether you told him or not, that doesn’t give him the right to treat you like that.”

Gia doesn’t say anything. 

“I mean it - I’ve dealt with my share of this shit, and there’s no excuse for it. What he said to you was fucking wrong, period. Doesn’t matter how upset he is.” 

“I was gonna tell him - I just didn’t think he’d react like that. Plus like, he was gonna find out eventually.” Gia laughs a little grimly. “I told him I was saving myself for marriage, and I don’t think I was gonna be able to like, keep that up for much longer.” 

Laganja gives a tight-lipped smile, slightly uncomfortable. Not with Gia, with the situation. She hadn’t even attempted dating since she’d come out, and this was exactly why. Too scared of what people would think - or say, or do. After seeing the full, horrendous extent of the first ‘big’ reaction to her transition, it didn’t bear thinking about. Didn’t exactly help that her parents, who she’d been outed to in the midst of the whole scandal, had barely said a word to her since, and her teammates had thrown her to the wolves. 

“Well, he’s a loser who doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Laganja eventually says. She stands up, walking back down the hall to grab her broken suitcase, before returning to Gia and holding a hand out to her. Gia looks perplexed. 

“What are you-?”

“C’mon - I need dinner, and I’m not leaving you here.” 

****

“You want any more?” 

Laganja holds the joint out to Gia - sitting in the passenger seat of her car. The brunette shakes her head, a hint of a laugh in her voice. 

“Nah - I’m good.” 

“You sure?” Laganja takes another drag; trying to talk while holding in smoke. 

“Totally sure - I…you got me really fucking high,” Gia giggles, leaning against the door of the car. She aims a handful of fries for her mouth and misses - dropping most of them into her shirt. 

“I think you needed it, honey,” Laganja smiles, watching Gia trying to pick fries off of her chest with her tongue, like a lizard. She’s loosened up a hell of a lot, Laganja thinks as she flicks ash into the empty Coke can on her dashboard. 

“Yeah,” Gia says airily. “Y’know, you’re the first person I’ve met who’s like, like me. And you’re really fucking cool. I like you.” 

“You’re just saying that because I bought you food and let you smoke my weed.”

“Nah - seriously,” Gia insists - rambling a little, her eyes overly-moist and tinged pink. “I’ve never met another trans girl - I knew that I was one, but you’re like….you’re the first. It’s like we’re fucking unicorns or some shit.” 

Ganja smiles. 

“So, what the fuck is your story, Gia?” 

“What?” Gia giggles, still fighting with her fries. 

“How did you wind up stuck out here, with him? You’re too fucking good in the ring to be working in a high school gym in fucking Delaware.”

“I started training when I was like, eleven,” Gia says, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. Laganja notices her slack jaw, and tries to pick it up off the floor before Gia sees it too. “It’s like, normal in Japan. Both my parents are wrestlers, it was sort of always gonna be my thing.”

“But what are you doing here?”

“It’s part of the training system - we call it a ‘learning excursion’. You get sent to the US for like, a year before you debut on TV back home, learn to speak better English and work different styles or whatever. So I came over when I was nineteen. Then while I was here, I figured out my whole…” she gestures awkwardly at herself. “This, and now I don’t think I can go back home. Well, I could - but I ditched training, so I think my parents will want to kill me, and also I have tits now - I don’t know how they’ll feel about that but I don’t think I want to. So for the last three years, I’ve just been taking whatever shitty gigs I can get, lying to my parents about getting signed to WWE developmental so they think I’m too busy to talk to them, and trying to like…I don’t know. Live.” 

“God.” Laganja grimaces, sucking down the last few puffs that the joint has to offer. 

“Your turn - what’s your damage, Miss Laganja?” 

Laganja squirms a little. She glances into the backseat at the Team USA backpack that she still uses. It feels a little bit like stolen valour. 

“Kinda similar. Not as cool. I was an amateur wrestler - and I was fucking good at it. Like, Olympics good. I was meant to go to London in 2012, but I’d already started hormones and obviously that got flagged up in my drug tests, so I got disqualified and then the news went apeshit about it because it got misreported and people thought I wanted to compete for the women’s team. So I sort of just went and lived under a rock for a year until the shitshow died down, and then started doing this. I’m still pretty new to it.”

“You are really good,” Gia says, kind of aloof like she doesn’t want to be caught giving Ganja real praise. 

“Thanks.” Laganja’s cheeks flush pink. 

“Also that’s fucked up. What happened to you, I mean.” Gia pulls a face. 

“Yeah, but I don’t know what I thought was going to happen. At least this way I can actually be myself.” Laganja shrugs. “And nobody seems to care - real sports it’s all ‘biological advantage’ this, ‘biological advantage’ that, but this is all staged, so nobody gives a shit. And the outfits are better.” She gives a laugh, watching the evening sky shift from deep orange to star-scattered blue through the dirty windshield. “I never wanna see a fucking singlet again.” 

“Tell me about it,” Gia giggles. “It’s like, a whole thing with the Young Lions - the rookie wrestlers back home - that you don’t get to have a distinct look until you graduate. Just black trunks and a shitty haircut.” Gia pulls out her phone, flicking at warp speed through her camera roll and then zooming in on a group picture. She turns the phone to Laganja - it’s filled with the image of a depressed-looking teenage boy with a buzz cut, standing shirtless and shoulder-to-shoulder with a group of similarly uniform but presumably less miserable kids. Laganja’s eyes widen. 

“No fucking way is that you!” She gasps. “That’s insane - you look so different.”

“Thanks, it took a lot of work.” Gia half-laughs. 

“Seriously - you’re like…so much hotter now. It’s not even funny. Your stupid boyfriend doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Shut up - you’re hot.” Gia smiles, her head lolling back. She puts a hand on Laganja’s thigh. Laganja’s skin tingles. 

“And you’re high.” 

“Am not.” Gia flops sideways, her head resting on Laganja’s shoulder. “I’m glad I met you, Ganj. You’re really nice. And really pretty.” 

Laganja blushes again. She doesn’t think anyone has ever called her ‘pretty’ before. She tries to keep her eyes fixed in front of her, like she’s driving, but Gia’s hand is cupping her cheek now - soft fingers brushing against her sweat-misted skin, gazing up at her with hazy brown eyes. When Laganja looks down, Gia inches closer to her - hesitantly pressing their weed-dry lips together. Laganja doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she also doesn’t try to stop her. 

The brunette parts Laganja’s lips with an exploratory tongue, and Laganja - no idea what she’s thinking, no intention of questioning it - lets her, closing her eyes and deepening the kiss, one hand leaving the steering wheel to cup the back of Gia’s head. Gia murmurs softly, and then she pulls away before Laganja has really figured out what’s going on. Once her touch is gone, she kind of misses it. 

Gia is laughing again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Sorry. I don’t know what the fuck that was. Guess I am high.” 

“It’s okay. I liked it,” Laganja admits hesitantly. Gia reaches a hand out for hers, clasping them together. “What now? Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?”

“Fuck no,” Gia pulls a face. “And I don’t have anything booked for…” she pauses to think, counting on her fingers. “Fucking ages. I was just tagging along with Trey since most promotions don’t bother booking a women’s match until the last second, but now he’s gone.”

“You can tag along with me,”  Laganja offers. “I’m crashing here tonight and then I’ve got a show in Pittsburgh tomorrow - come along for the ride, I can try and get you on the card.” 

“Sure - if you’re sure.” Gia looks hesitant. 

“Positive. I kinda miss having company. And you’re really cute.”

“No, you.” Gia smiles drowsily. Pulling Laganja closer by the hand she’s holding, Gia tries sloppily to initiate another kiss, and this time Laganja doesn’t hesitate. 

For the first time in months, she doesn’t feel quite so alone. 

****

You’re an all-American boy,

I guess I couldn’t help trying to be

Your best American girl.

Pride Challenge Points: 5331

[yeostinys]

My Dear Darling

Chapter 5

Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader

Genre: Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!

Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Explicit language. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore)

Word Count: 8k

Synopsis: someone finds out about your relationship with ATZ. And the boys made an agreement amongst themselves?

Previous >>> Next Chapter

_____________________________________

The evening sun poured through the large window of your studio apartment, casting a warm golden glow that danced across the room. You sat on your soft, plush couch, surrounded by a chaotic array of notebooks, crumpled papers, and the persistent hum of your laptop. With a weary sigh, you leaned back, your shoulders heavy with the weight of the past five hours spent wrestling with a report for your internship.

You had always been the type to overwork, driven by an insatiable desire to excel in everything you undertook. Balancing school, work, and your social life had never been a challenge for you—until now. A sense of dread settled in your chest as you approached the report’s conclusion. You longed for relaxation, for a moment to breathe, to escape the demands of your responsibilities. Above all, you yearned to see your boyfriends, their laughter and warmth a distant echo in your mind.

But they were busy too, their own schedules packed with classes and commitments. You admired their relentless dedication to their studies, how they managed to immerse themselves in their work while still carving out time to enjoy life’s fleeting moments. As you thought of them, a swirl of emotions tugged at your heart—admiration mixed with a pang of guilt. You realized you hadn’t spent any real time alone with some of the ATZ boys lately, and the thought nagged at you.

Determined to push through, you glanced at your report, the words blurring together. Each sentence felt like a barrier between you and the fun, light-hearted evenings you craved. The idea of wrapping up your work propelled you forward. You could almost envision the laughter, the playful teasing, the joy of being with them. With renewed focus, you typed furiously, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you worked to complete the report, each keystroke a step closer to the moment you could finally leave the stress behind and reconnect with the people who made your heart race.

*Buzz*

The sound of the doorbell buzzed through the apartment, pulling you from your focus. You looked up from your laptop, curiosity igniting as you turned toward the door. Setting your device aside, you sprang from the couch, excitement thrumming in your chest.

Approaching the door, you peered through the peephole and felt a wide grin spread across your face. There was Jia, her eyes sparkling with mischief, balancing two cups of soda and a large takeout bag in her hands. Without a second thought, you swung the door open, unable to contain your joy.

“Jia!? What is this!?” you exclaimed, a delighted shriek escaping your lips as you pulled her inside, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Aren’t I the bestest friend ever?” Jia struck a playful pose, her eyes dancing with energy as she handed you one of the drinks. You couldn’t help but giggle at her antics.

Together, you made your way to the kitchen island, sliding onto the barstools with a sense of camaraderie. The familiar sounds of wrappers crinkling and soda fizzing filled the air as you began to feast on the fast food spread before you.

“Okay, to be completely honest…” Jia turned toward you, a fry poised between her fingers, her expression suddenly serious yet playful. You leaned in closer,

“This is in celebration of me. I couldn’t tell you through text…” She paused, her grin widening as if about to share a great secret. You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your soda, anticipation building.

“Okay…? What is it?” you prompted, eager for the scoop.

“Wonho and I… ARE OFFICIALLY DATING!” Jia shrieked, her voice ringing with glee. She playfully grabbed your legs, shaking them in excitement. Your eyes widened in surprise, a radiant smile breaking across your face.

“Shut up!?” you gasped, covering your mouth in disbelief. “YES!”

Jia burst into laughter, her joy infectious as she jumped in her seat, the sheer happiness radiating off her.

“Holy shit, finally! I’m so happy for you!” You beamed at her, your heart swelling with joy. “After who knows how long of you two messing around with each other, you finally made it official.” You stuffed a fry into your mouth, savoring the moment.

“Ugh, I know,” Jia sighed, her eyes dreamy. “Honestly, it was my fault. I was crazy scared of commitment. But something about Wonho changed me.” She giggled, a soft smile playing on her lips as she lost herself in thought.

You watched her, a fondness growing in your chest. “I’m happy for you Jia” you said with sincerity.

In that moment, your phone buzzed, interrupting the laughter between you two with the sudden notification. You glanced down, your heart skipping a beat as you saw a message from the group chat with ATZ.

Hongjoong: We are watching a movie tonight. Want to come over?

Yuyu: I’ll pick you up if you want, Y/N.

Mingi: Please come, we are watching a scary movie. I need you to hold me!

A warm smile crept across your face, and you quickly typed a response, excitement bubbling inside you.

Y/N: Jia’s over right now. I’ll try to come by later.

You looked up just in time to catch Jia eyeing you, her brow raised in curiosity as she took a sip of her fizzy soda. She leaned forward slightly, trying to peek at your screen, but you swiftly closed your phone, feigning innocence.

“Who’s got you smiling like an idiot?” she teased, squinting her eyes with playful suspicion.

“What? No one…” you replied, hastily shoving a fry into your mouth as a distraction.

“Nice try, Y/N. You’re hiding something,” Jia declared, her playful glare intensifying.

“I know when you’re lying. Who’s got your attention?” She reached for your phone, but you instinctively snatched it away, your heart racing.

“You are hiding something!” Jia exclaimed, her tone half-joking, half-serious. Without missing a beat, she jumped to conclusions. “Oh my god, is it Wooyoung?!”

You froze, stunned into silence.

“IT IS! I remember, I literally saw you two grinding on each other at the party!” Jia grabbed your shoulders, shaking you in excitement. You scrunched your face in defeat, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Or is it Yunho? I remember you had a crush on him a few summers ago, and you two have been talking a lot again,” Jia continued, her excitement bubbling over as she pulled back, tapping her chin in thought.

“Jia, please!” you exclaimed, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation, though amusement danced in your eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh at her ability to connect the dots, despite her notoriously short attention span.

“Okay, okay… I’m sorry,” she said softly, pressing her lips together as she stared at you expectantly.

You bit your lip, contemplating how much to reveal. “We’ve just gotten really close, that’s all,” you finally said, taking a sip of your soda to buy time.

“We?” Jia’s eyebrow shot up. “Who’s ‘we’?” She leaned against the counter, clearly intrigued.

“All of ATZ…” you mumbled, unable to meet her gaze.

“All of ATZ?!” Jia’s voice rose an octave as she covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “Wait… is that why you’ve been hanging out with them so much?”

You nodded, trying to suppress the nervousness bubbling in your stomach.

“I’m confused, though. Why so suddenly?” Jia pressed, her brow furrowing in genuine concern.

“Uh… I’ve just recently become their Fraternity sweetheart…” you confessed hesitantly.

“Really?” Jia sounded unconvinced, her eyebrow arched.

“Yes,” you insisted, trying to sound confident despite your nerves.

“Y/N, ATZ never had sweethearts before! And you’ve been asked by so many other frats to be their sweetheart but always declined—until now. So what’s really going on?” Jia’s tone turned serious, her concern palpable. You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of her scrutiny.

“Jia…” you began, meeting her gaze. She could see the distress in your eyes. “I need you to keep an open mind about this, and… promise me it stays between us.”

Jia nodded, her expression earnest as she took your hands in hers. “Yes, of course.”

“I’m… dating…” you paused, heart racing. Jia’s eyes widened, and she gasped dramatically.

“SAN?!” she shouted, her voice nearly shrill. “I THOUGHT YOU HATED HIM?!”

“Jia! Let me explain!!!” You threw your head back in frustration, feeling the rush of emotions bubble over.

“Okay, okay… I’m sorry,” Jia said, her voice softening as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“I’m dating… all of them,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jia’s eyes widened further in disbelief. “You’re messing with me,” she said, laughing nervously.

“I’m not, I’m serious…” you replied, looking down, unable to meet her incredulous gaze.

“Since when?” she asked, her tone shifting to calm curiosity.

“We’ve only been dating for a few weeks. They all confessed their feelings and wanted a polyamorous relationship. I was just as shocked as you are. I didn’t think I’d ever be in a relationship like this, but I really do like all of them…” Your voice trembled as you spoke, fear of judgment gripping you. Jia blinked in surprise, then broke into a chuckle.

“Wow… eight boyfriends. How fucken lucky are you”

Relief washed over you, and you leaned in for a hug, closing your eyes as you let out a sigh. “Oh my god, I thought you were going to judge me and dump me as a friend.”

“Me? Oh, Y/N-ie. You’re my best friend, and I support you in anything and everything you want to do.” She pulled back, smiling warmly. “Your secret relationship with them is safe with me.”

Holding out her pinky, Jia grinned. You chuckled at her gesture and interlocked your fingers.

“Thank you, Jia…” you said, feeling a wave of gratitude.

“So, I’m going to need all the details on this. Because damn, ALL OF THEM WANT YOU?!” she exclaimed, her witty self returning. “That’s actually so crazy because now that I think about it, you have liked almost all of them at least once!”

You laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating as you launched into a detailed account of how your relationship with ATZ began. The two of you migrated to the couch, popping a bottle of wine and filling your glasses with the rich red liquid, as you sipped and shared everything—their dynamic, your feelings, the whirlwind of emotions that had led you to this point. You appreciated how open-minded Jia was, her laughter ringing true without a hint of judgment.

“Wait, Y/N, I just realized,” she interjected, holding up a hand to pause your story. “I thought you and San had beef since high school?”

You bit your lip, the memories flooding back.

“It’s complicated… I was confused too when I found out he liked me.” You took a sip of wine, gathering your thoughts. “I can’t deny I’ve always had feelings for him. There’s obviously something unresolved between us, but he cares for me—I can see it when we’re together. He’s just so confusing.”

Jia raised an eyebrow, sipping her wine thoughtfully.

“Hmm, interesting.” She glanced at her phone, a smile breaking across her face. “Oh! Wonho’s off work!”

Jia set her glass down, bouncing with excitement. “I’m going to head out.”

You stood up with her, laughter bubbling between you as you walked to the door. She turned to face you one last time.

“My Y/N~ thank you for opening up to me about this. Everything is safe with me. I’m so happy for you. But if any one of them hurts you, I will kill them,” she said, her eyes serious as she held your shoulders.

You nodded, laughing at her fierce loyalty. “Thank you, Jia.”

“Bye now! Love ya!” she called as she stepped out, waving enthusiastically.

“Love ya!” you shouted back, chuckling as you closed the door behind her.

———

After bidding Jia farewell, you turn and stroll back to the couch, the soft fabric welcoming you as you reach for your phone. Your fingers tap the screen as you open the group chat with ATZ, a familiar wave of excitement washing over you. You quickly type a message, letting them know you're on your way, then glance at your reflection in the nearby mirror. A few swift touches—smooth hair, a quick spritz of your favorite fragrance—make you feel a little more put together. Slipping into your shoes, you feel a tingle of anticipation, ready to step out into the evening.

Just as you’re about to grab your bag, your phone rings, the sound slicing through the air. You glance down to see San’s name flashing on the screen. Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but smile as you press the green button to answer.

“Hi, San,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m almost at your place. Just wait for me. I’ll come get you,” he replies, his tone calm and reassuring.

“You didn’t have to—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I was at the convenience store near your apartment getting snacks when you texted. It’s no big deal,” he explains, the warmth in his voice easing your initial surprise.

“Okay…” you say, feeling a mix of gratitude and a hint of annoyance that you didn’t get to argue your point.

“I’ll let you know when I’m here,” he adds, and before you can respond, the line goes dead.

Settling back onto the couch, you keep your phone close, glancing at it occasionally as the minutes tick by. Time seems to stretch, the anticipation building until you hear a firm knock on your door. You leap up from the soft cushions, your heart racing as you rush to the door. Peering through the peephole, you catch sight of San, you quickly open the door.

“San, you didn’t have to walk all the way up here. I could’ve just met you down in the lobby,” you say sheepishly.

“It’s alright. Let’s go,” he replies with a smirk, playfully ruffling your hair. The gesture sends a flush of warmth to your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile back.

As he turns to walk away, you follow behind him, still nervous as ever.

———

The walk to the ATZ house was enveloped in a serene quietness, the kind that felt both comfortable and charged with unspoken words. The air was thick with familiarity, as if the very atmosphere had normal between you and San. He strode slightly ahead of you with a long, effortless gait, his tall figure casting a protective shadow over your smaller frame. San’s hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans, while the other grasped a crinkled black plastic bag filled to the brim with an array of snacks and drinks. His focus was fixed on the path ahead, but you found yourself stealing glances at him, lost in admiration—his strong jawline accentuated by the late afternoon sun, his perfect nose. Just as you began to lose yourself in those thoughts, his voice cut through the silence.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked nonchalantly, an eyebrow quirking up as his eyes flicked toward you. Your heart raced, and you felt your cheeks warm as you diverted your gaze forward. San chuckled lightly, and you both continued your walk.

With your eyes cast forward, you recalled your earlier conversation with Jia—a conversation that now felt like it held the weight of the world. She now knows your relationship dynamic with ATZ. You should have talked to the boys first, but Jia was your best friend, and the pressure to keep such a vital piece of information under wraps had been intense. The thoughts loomed over you as you continued walking in silence.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the moment shattered as you felt a sharp tug on your arm. Before you could comprehend what was happening, you found yourself enveloped in San’s arms. Your heart pounded as you looked up, only to see a biker whizzing past, careening dangerously close to you.

“What an asshole,” San muttered, his face darkening with concern as he glared at the cyclist. The unexpected warmth of his embrace took you by surprise, and for a moment, you were frozen in place.

“Are you okay?” San asked, his voice dropping to a serious tone as he looked down at you, instinctively releasing his hold. Nodding in response, you remained silent, feeling the lingering effects of his touch.

“Did you not hear the biker ringing his bell? You looked so lost in thought; I had to pull you aside,” he noted, his gaze steady and penetrating, eyebrows raised in a gentle challenge.

“Sorry… I didn’t hear,” you murmured, guilt creeping into your tone.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” San inquired softly, his voice inviting you to share your burden. You felt caught in his gaze once more, the intensity of his attention forcing you to look away.

“Sannie…” The nickname slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. It shocked you, yet it felt so natural—a small sweetness in the tension of the moment. San’s heart quickened at the sound, and he bit his lip, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his tone gentler now, reaching out to grasp your wrist, sending a rush of warmth through you. The endearment made you blush, and your eyes widened at the unexpected intimacy.

“I told Jia about our relationship,” you admitted softly, looking down to hide the uncertainty in your eyes. His expression shifted, surprise flitting across his face before he smiled, easing the knot of tension inside you.

“Is that it?” he lifted your chin, compelling you to look at him. You nodded, feeling small under the weight of his gaze. “I just couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She’s like my sister and deserved to know. I’m sorry…” you let the words tumble out, a sense of shame creeping into your voice.

“Why are you sorry?” San asked, his brow furrowed slightly with curiosity.

“I felt like I should’ve talked about it with you guys first before telling her. It’s your guys relationship too. But she swore not to tell anyone! Regardless, I’m sorry if I crossed the line,” you explained, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N, it’s okay.” San chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “It’s just Jia. If you trust her, so do we. Plus, we told you before—whenever you're ready to let anyone know, we will be ready too.” He ruffled your hair playfully, and relief washed over you like a cool breeze on a scorching day.

“Okay…” you replied, staring at your feet for a moment before hesitantly meeting his gaze again. “Can you help me tell the others that I told Jia?” You clasped your hands together, looking at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes. He raised an eyebrow, wearing a bemused expression as he nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” He resumed walking, and you hurried to keep pace at his side.

Your heart swelled with warmth at the softness of your interaction, something that felt rare and precious between the two of you. How unexpectedly sweet it had been. It was as if a curtain had lifted, revealing the deeper elements of your relationship—elements that were often obscured by playful teasing and banter.

Yet, beneath that sweetness lingered confusion. With the other members, interactions had flowed naturally and easily, but with San, everything felt more complex. He held an alluring mix of playful charm and guarded distance. You wanted to understand him better—the man who could swing between being aloof and tender. You recalled that lingering moment from that night not long ago when San had cried, clearly from being too drunk. His constant words of “hurting you” was a statement that lingered in your thoughts, especially when paired with the memory of his endearing, clingy demeanor due to too many drinks. A quiet giggle slipped from your lips as you remembered drunk San, and he turned to you, curiosity piqued.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, an eyebrow raising in question.

You couldn’t help but smile wider at his genuine interest. “Sannie, do you remember anything from the night of XIK’s party?” You tilted your head, batting your eyelashes innocently at him.

“Yeah, why?” he replied, sounding a bit suspicious but intrigued.

“Well, do you remember anything from when we got home?” Your words danced in the air, teasing him playfully.

“Just tell me, Y/N. I don’t want to play guessing games,” he insisted, crossing his arms and facing you.

“Hm, drunk San is much nicer to me,” you retorted, giving a light roll of your eyes as you looked away, feeling confident in your teasing.

San released his crossed arms, his exasperated sigh punctuating the air. “Just tell me what I did, please,” he pleaded.

“Nothing much, you were just super clingy and kept asking for me,” you teased, walking away from him. “And you were a cry baby” You laughed as you picked up pace, the small distance between you growing with your mischievous retreat.

San’s eyes widened in shock as he followed behind you. “I what?” he called out, a mix of disbelief and genuine curiosity in his voice.

Just as you approached the front door of the ATZ house, you could hardly contain your laughter as you felt the exhilaration of the moment. Before you could even reach for the door handle, San gripped your wrist and pulled you back toward him, his eyes narrowing with playful intensity.

“What do you mean I was a cry baby?” he asked, his expression a mix of faux annoyance and genuine concern. You looked up, your heart thudding as you found yourself caught in the intimacy of his gaze.

Flustered, you glanced away. “You tripped over yourself, causing both of us to bump into the wall. Well, mostly me, since I hit my head,” you recounted, your tone casual. “Then you started crying when you saw I was hurt, and you kept saying, ‘Why do I keep hurting you?’” You looked at him with your eyebrows raised in amusement.

San’s face shifted from incredulity to a flustered blush, the color flooding to his cheeks. He dropped your wrist, his shoulders tense as he turned away quickly, clearing his throat. The playful banter you had expected dimmed into a sudden seriousness, and confusion washed over you.

“What?” You nervously chuckled. You had expected laughter, maybe even some playful rebuttal, but instead, his sudden shift to seriousness left you frowning.

“It’s nothing” His lips tightened, and without another word, he hastily opened the front door and stepped inside, leaving you standing there, bewildered. You followed him into the house, feeling a sense of confusion from him like always.

———

Following closely behind San, you step into the dimly lit living room, where the flickering glow of the television casts elongated shadows across the walls. The boys are already engrossed in the horror movie, completely unaware of your presence.

In the corner of your eye, you spot Mingi, his form hunched over a pillow as he shields himself from the on-screen action. A smile spreads across your face, as you position yourself behind him. With a sudden burst of energy, you grab his shoulders and shout, “Boo!”

Mingi lets out a high-pitched scream that echoes through the room, nearly tumbling off the couch in his shock. Seonghwa and Wooyoung, caught off guard, join in with their own shrieks, creating a cacophony of startled yelps. Jongho and Yunho who were clearly unfazed, barely contain their laughter, while Hongjoong and Yeosang flinch, their faces a mix of surprise and confusion.

You can’t help but burst into laughter, the sound infectious as you reach out to Mingi, who is still wide-eyed, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and relief.

“Y/N!~” he whines, clutching his chest as if to calm his racing heart.

The rest of the boys are doubled over with laughter, their joy contagious. San rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile as he places the bags of snacks onto the coffee table.

“I’m sorry, Min! I didn’t think you’d actually get scared,” you manage between giggles, gently running your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him.

“Well, hello to you too, baby,” Wooyoung says with an exaggerated drawl, clutching his chest as if your scare had truly wounded him. A playful giggle escapes your lips as you glide around to his sitting figure, his dramatic flair only adding to the moment’s hilarity.

“I’m so sorry, Woo,” you reply, laughter bubbling up again as you lean down and wrap your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. He responds instantly, his arms encircling your waist, pulling you closer as he snuggles his face into your chest. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and it makes your heart swell with affection.

Turning your attention, you notice Seonghwa watching you, a shy smile gracing his lips, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Did I scare you too, Hwa?” you ask, releasing Wooyoung’s hold and moving toward him. You can’t resist brushing your fingers through his hair, a gesture that always seems to ease any embarrassment he might feel.

“I was scared too,” Yunho pipes up, raising his hand as if he’s in a classroom, a teasing grin plastered across his face.

“Me too!” Yeosang chimes in, his big, doe-like eyes wide with mock innocence as he looks up at you, adding to the playful atmosphere.

You laugh at their playful banter, shaking your head in disbelief. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry for interrupting the movie,” you say, feigning seriousness as you gesture dramatically toward the screen. “Let’s get back to it!”

With a bright smile, you plop down between Mingi and Seonghwa, feeling the comfortable warmth of their presence. The room settles back into a cozy atmosphere, laughter still echoing softly as you all turn your attention to the flickering screen.

Your head nestled against Seonghwa’s shoulder, the warmth of his presence a steady comfort as you both sat engrossed in the flickering glow of the screen before you. The soft light illuminated your faces, casting gentle shadows that danced across the room. A cozy blanket was draped over your legs, its fabric soft against your skin, partially overlapping with Seonghwa’s and Mingi’s.

Seonghwa's arm hung casually around your shoulders, his presence a protective anchor that made you feel at ease. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, a rhythmic reassurance in the quiet space. Meanwhile, Mingi sat on the other side, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh.

As the movie droned on, the initial thrill began to fade, replaced by an almost comical absurdity that made the horror elements feel more ridiculous than terrifying. The once-terrifying scenes now elicited only faint chuckles and eye rolls from you. You felt your attention slipping away, a dull ache of boredom creeping in.

With a slight huff, you shifted your position on the couch, gently lifting your head from Seonghwa’s shoulder. The warmth that had enveloped you receded slightly, but Seonghwa’s arm stayed firmly around you, a comforting presence that anchored you even as you sought a better angle to see the screen. You leaned back, glancing at him with a soft smile, but his focus remained on the movie, his brow slightly furrowed as if trying to will the story to become engaging again.

Mingi, sensing your shift, let his hand slide higher on your thigh, a subtle gesture that sent a wave of warmth through you. The light touch was both casual and deliberate, igniting a spark of electricity in the air between you. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at him, his eyes still glued to the screen, yet there was an unmistakable teasing glint in them that made your heart race.

You gazed around the room, the flickering glow of the television illuminated the faces of the boys. Some of them were completely absorbed, their eyes glued to the unfolding drama, while others started scrolling through their phones, just as equally bored of the movie.

You try to bring your focus back onto the screen, but it was difficult with the feeling of Mingi’s fingertips sliding gently against the soft fabric of your tights, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver coursing through your body. Your heart raced, and your breath hitched as you sensed a shift in Mingi's intentions. His pinky finger—light and teasing—traced a line just below your hip, hovering between casualness and something far more intimate. The sensation of his touch resonated through you, igniting a warmth that crept up your spine and spread through your entire being.

Seonghwa glanced at you, his gaze sharp and teasing, as he caught the flustered expression on your face, cheeks painted a deep crimson. A playful smirk crept across his lips as he detected Mingi’s hand moving persistently beneath the soft fabric of the blanket. Seonghwa’s eyes followed the trajectory of Mingi’s fingers, and he couldn’t help but study the way your body responded, the gentle rise and fall of your chest betraying the electric sensations coursing through you.

A wave of envy washed over him—the way Mingi seemed to effortlessly elicit such reactions from you. Unable to resist the urge to convey his own affection, Seonghwa shifted closer, his hand brushing against your shoulder. He let his fingers gently knead the delicate muscles there. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your temple before allowing his hand to drift down to the nape of your neck. His fingertips began to massage you, sending unexpected shivers racing through your body like wildfire.

Mingi, ever perceptive, caught the way you instinctively reacted to his touch. He could feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. Suddenly, you let out a soft gasp—a sound that cut through the ambient noise of the television—as Mingi’s fingers brushed against you again, teasing and exploring the warmth hidden beneath the blanket.

Both men exchanged looks, their eyes locking for a moment, an unspoken understanding passing between them. They shared a smirk, one that held the promise of continued teasing, before their gazes dropped back to you.

Your face was a striking shade of red, as if you were caught in a sunset, and you bit your bottom lip in an attempt to focus on the screen, fighting against the distractions pulling you under. Mingi leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his deep voice low and teasing. You nodded shyly, refusing to turn your head to meet his gaze, a gesture that only fueled the fire of their amusement.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he observed your reaction.

“You sure, darling? You keep moving,” he teased, his voice vibrating through your core, making your blush deepen as you diverted your gaze down to your lap.

“Mm, I’m okay…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, desperate to avoid drawing attention from the others in the room.

“Okay…” they both echoed back, their voices a perfect duet.

They admired your side profile, the curve of your jaw, the flutter of your eyelashes, and, without a second thought, they leaned in closer. Their lips brushed against your cheeks at the same time, a tender, simultaneous gesture that sent your heart racing. Your eyes widened in surprise, your breath hitching at the unexpected contact. Heat flooded your entire face.

Seonghwa pulled away slightly, his chuckle a low rumble that vibrated in the air, a sound that only made you flush more. Mingi, with a devilish glint in his eye, peppered a few more playful kisses along your cheek and down towards your neck, each one igniting your skin with warmth before he finally turned his head back towards the screen. Seonghwa followed suit, his gaze returning to the flickering images in front of you, but not before stealing another glance at you, admiration written across his features.

Without noticing, the film reached its conclusion. The screen faded to black before the end credits began to roll, accompanied by a sudden, loud exhale from Jongho. As he stood up from the couch, a sweeping wave of disappointment washed over him. “What a dumb ass movie,” he declared, flicking the light switch on and flooding the room with dim illumination.

“I agree,” chimed in Yunho, stretching his arms above his head, his voice resonating with an air of relaxed camaraderie. “It was good for the first thirty minutes, but then it just started getting weird.”

You shifted on the couch, pushing yourself upright as you cleared your throat, feeling a warm flush creeping up your cheeks, a remnant of Seonghwa and Mingi’s earlier teasing. Their playful banter had left you flustered and disoriented.

“You okay, Y/N?” Yeosang asked, concern etched in his features as he turned his gaze to you. Your eyes widened at his inquiry, and a nervous laugh slipped from your lips. “Oh, yeah! I’m okay,” you replied, forcing a smile, hoping to mask the storm of emotions swirling within.

“You sure, baby? Your face is all red,” Yeosang observed, leaning in closer to get a better look at you. The softness of his tone sent a delightful shiver down your spine.

“Ah, I’m just thirsty,” you stammered, grasping at the excuse like a lifeline, desperate to sidestep the palpable tension that had been lingering between Seonghwa and Mingi and you.

As if sensing your unease, Yeosang rose from the couch, adopting the grace of a gentleman. “Let’s go get you some water,” he suggested, extending his hand toward you. You felt your cheeks heat even more as you reached out, taking his hand. A soft thrill coursed through you as warmth enveloped your skin.

As you stood, you felt Seonghwa's and Mingi's hands brush against you, a reminder of their earlier closeness, but you stepped away, allowing Yeosang to guide you toward the kitchen. The cool tiles beneath your feet contrasted with the heat still lingering in the air.

———

Yeosang moved purposefully, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before handing it to you.

“Thanks, Yeo,” you murmured, taking a few sips, the cool liquid refreshing against your lips. After handing the glass back to him, Yeosang smiled, and without a moment's pause, he finished the remainder, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

Yeosang placed the empty glass on the counter behind you, ruffling your hair playfully as he moved closer. You suddenly found yourself against the sleek marble table, trapped in the warm orbit of his presence. “You still flustered from Mingi and Seonghwa kissing you?” he teased, his husky voice wrapping around you like an intoxicating melody. Your blush deepened, and you turned your head away, feeling exposed.

“You saw?” you asked softly, catching a glimpse of his playful yet serious expression.

“Oh baby, all of us saw,” Yeosang chuckled, tenderly pulling your chin back until your eyes met his. His hands slipped to your hips, thumbs drawing gentle circles on your skin. The intimate gesture ignited a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, and instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, finding comfort in his embrace.

“You know, I’d never thought you’d be this much of a teaser,” you remarked, your fingers finding their way into his hair, playing absentmindedly. “You’re such a gentleman, yet you tease so much” you add with a giggle.

He lowered his head slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked back up at you. “I’m only like this towards the people I really like.” The sincerity in his voice wrapped around your heart, and his hands traveled higher on your waist, his caresses sending electrifying tingles through you.

“So, are there other girls that get to see this side of you?” you pretended to pout, a playful challenge that earned a bright smile from him.

“No, no. You’re the only girl that gets to see this side of me. I was just talking about the guys… my family. I’m more comfortable with you all, and I can be myself,” Yeosang continued, his gaze scanning your face before lingering on your soft lips.

“I’m glad I can be one of those people, then,” you whispered softly, feeling an undeniable connection with him.

“May I?” Yeosang asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Your heart raced as you nodded in response. And before you could fully process what was happening, his warm, soft lips were pressed against yours. The kiss was tender yet deep, an exquisite blend of passion and sweet affection. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were crafting a work of art, and you felt yourself melting into him, intoxicated by the moment.

When he finally pulled away, you whimpered softly, reluctant to break the blissful intimacy. Yeosang chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, before planting gentle kisses along your cheek. He trailed down to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you as you surrendered to the sensation of his warm breath and soft kisses.

“Y-Yeo…” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the pleasure coursing through you. He continued to explore your skin, moving from your neck to your collarbone, his touch igniting your senses.

“Damn Yeo, are you trying to devour her?” The teasing voice of Jongho interrupted the sacred moment. You gasped, turning your head to see him standing in the doorframe with a smug smirk.

“Fuck off,” Yeosang muttered against your skin, refusing to let his lips leave you even for a moment.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Jongho ventured further into the kitchen, a mischievous smile on his face as he approached you. “You enjoying this, pretty?” he asked softly, brushing his fingers through your hair, sending currents of warmth spiraling through you. You nodded, unable to form words, your breath hitching in your throat. The sound of chuckles vibrated around you from both boys—Jongho’s and Yeosang’s—as Yeosang’s lips continued their descent lower.

Jongho cupped your cheek, tilting your face toward him before pressing his own soft lips against your forehead. His kisses trailed down your skin, lingering on your cheek before finally finding your lips, weaving a tender yet fervent kiss that made your heart race.

As desire swelled within you, you whimpered into the kiss, overwhelmed by the sensations wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The knowledge of what you had signed up for in this polyamorous relationship danced in the corner of your mind, but nothing could prepare you for the heady rush of being kissed by two of your boyfriends simultaneously.

Yeosang shifted slightly, giving Jongho room to deepen the kiss. His hands found their way around your back, holding you close, anchoring you in the moment.

“O-oh God,” you gasped, overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all as Yeosang smiled against your skin, playfully biting you.

“Alright, enough, you two” A new voice broke through the haze, and you turned to see Hongjoong grinning at the scene before him, his smirk playful yet admonishing. “Let Y/N breathe,” he added, stepping forward to pull Yeosang and Jongho off you gently.

Both Jongho and Yeosang exhaled in exaggerated sighs, their lips glossy and flushed like yours, a mirrored reflection of the intoxicating atmosphere you’d been engulfed in moments before.

“Fuck, if you wanted a taste, you could’ve just joined us,” Jongho joked, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he caught Hongjoong’s gaze. Yeosang chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he took in your flushed face, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotion.

“For you two being the most quiet members, you’re so perverted,” Hongjoong laughed, rolling his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. He reached for your hand, a soft smile brightening his features. “Come on, let’s go. I want to show you something.”

Despite the heat still radiating in your cheeks from the flustered makeout session, you managed to nod softly, curiosity replacing the dizzying warmth in your chest as Hongjoong pulled you out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of lingering whispers and shared glances behind you.

———

Hongjoong's hand slipped into yours as he led you up the staircase, a warmth spreading between your fingers. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the narrow hallway, painting everything in a cozy light. You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest, wondering what he had planned. Suddenly, Hongjoong turned to you, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What did you want to show me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, curious yet hesitant.

He leaned closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug, pulling you snugly against him. “Hm, nothing much,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I just wanted you to myself.” As he buried his face into the crook of your neck, you could feel the warmth radiating off him, mingling with your own. Laughter bubbled up from within you as you pressed against him, enjoying the closeness.

“I don’t like sharing,” Hongjoong mumbled into your skin, his breath tickling you. You pulled back slightly, confusion etching across your face as you searched his gaze.

“Joong… what do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your brows in curiosity.

Hongjoong chuckled softly, tenderly cupping your face in his hands. His thumb lightly stroked your cheek, a calmness washing over you. “Not like that, baby,” he assured you, his voice a low murmur. “I just meant that I want us to be alone when it comes to being more intimate”

You tilted your head, pondering his words. “But you always hug and give me kisses in front of everyone?” you pointed out, slightly baffled.

“Yeah, I know…” He leaned in ever so closer, his warm breath washing over your face as he spoke. “…but those are quick hugs and quick kisses.” His voice dropped to a whisper, intimate and charged. “This time… I want to take my time.”

With each word, his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours, barely brushing against your skin. A hitch caught in your throat at his teasing. His nose nudged playfully against yours, leaving you yearning for more. The anticipation made you whine softly, a plea for him to deepen the connection.

“Joong, don’t tease me,” you whispered, feeling a heat creep up your cheeks at the thought of everyone’s earlier teasing. “Everyone has been at it today…” The complaint tumbled from your lips, desperate for his touch.

"Okay, okay, sorry," Hongjoong chuckled, pulling away with a sheepish grin. "But on a serious note, there’s something I want to show you."

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "What is it?"

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with a spark of excitement as he gestured toward his desk. He stood, walking around to your side and guiding you gently to the cushioned chair in front of his computer. "Sit here," he said softly, his voice warm as he pulled the chair closer to the screen, making sure you were comfortable.

He hovered for a moment behind you, his arm gently resting across your shoulders as he reached for the mouse. You could feel the weight of his touch, warm and reassuring, as he moved the cursor across the screen with careful precision.

"Do you remember that song I was working on in the library?" he asked, his voice filled with an almost shy anticipation.

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, your eyes briefly flicking from his face to the screen before responding. "Yeah, I remember."

Hongjoong smiled, a soft, almost secretive curve of his lips that made your heart flutter. "I finished it," he murmured, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before he clicked open a file. "I want you to listen to it."

He grabbed a pair of headphones from the side of the desk and gently placed them over your ears. His hands lingered there for just a moment, his fingers brushing your skin so lightly it almost felt like a whisper. You tried not to think too much about it as he clicked the spacebar to play the track.

The soft hum of music filled your ears, and immediately, your body relaxed into the melody. The beat was gentle, the lyrics intimate, drawing you in with every note. Your heart seemed to sync with the rhythm, beating in time with the music. There was something about the song—something in the way it made you feel like the world had momentarily slowed down, like you were wrapped in the warmth of his sound. The lyrics spoke of love, of longing, of dreams and promises, and as the final verse came to a close, you felt a lump in your throat.

When the song ended, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You pulled the headphones from your ears, turning toward Hongjoong with a bright, genuine smile.

He was looking at you nervously, his lips pressed into a tight line, waiting for your reaction. "How was it?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability as he took the headphones from your hands and set them on the desk.

You didn’t hesitate. "Joong, it’s beautiful. I love it so much," you said, your voice thick with sincerity, as your heart swelled with emotion. "It’s incredible."

Hongjoong let out a small, nervous laugh, his cheeks turning pink as he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. "You can be honest, Y/N. If you didn’t like it, it’s okay."

You shook your head, leaning forward a bit. "Hongjoong, I’m serious! This song is so good! I need it on my phone—like, right now," you said with a playful giggle, reaching out for his hands, desperate to hold onto some piece of him, some connection to the music that felt like it had touched your soul.

Hongjoong’s smile softened, and he reached for your hands, his fingers interlacing with yours. "I’m submitting this for my final project," he said, his voice now a little quieter, tinged with something deeper. He looked at you, his gaze both tender and earnest. "And I just wanted to tell you... thank you."

You blinked, confused. "Why are you thanking me?" you asked, your voice a little breathless from the intensity of the moment.

Hongjoong’s smile grew even more gentle, and he leaned in slightly, his voice barely a whisper. "You helped me finish it. You’re my muse." His words hung in the air, simple yet profound, and your heart skipped a beat.

You felt your cheeks warm, a flush creeping across your face as his words settled into your chest. "Hongjoong..." you whispered, the weight of his sentiment making you feel both overwhelmed and cherished all at once.

Without thinking, you stood up from the chair, your legs suddenly feeling unsteady as the emotions swirled inside you. You stepped toward him, closing the gap between you, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a gentle embrace. The scent of him—a mix of clean cologne and something distinctly him—filled your senses, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"What did I do to deserve you guys?" you whispered, your voice shaky with a mix of awe and gratitude.

Hongjoong’s arms immediately encircled your waist, pulling you closer, his body warm and solid against yours. His grip was firm, as though he never wanted to let go. You both stood there for a long moment, the world outside the room fading away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the space you shared.

You rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his as you looked down toward his lips.

“Kiss me,” you whispered out, longing for his touch. He smirked, the mischievous gleam in his eyes igniting a flame deep inside you, as he finally devoured your lips.

The connection was electric—soft yet maddeningly intense. The room filled with the wet sounds of your lips moving in a passionate dance, your breaths melding together in the heat of the moment. Hongjoong’s hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer, as your own arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

You stumbled backward, your legs brushing against the soft edge of his bed, collapsing onto the plush mattress with a soft 'thud.'

“Fuck, Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured against your lips, eyes glazed with desire. You responded instinctively, deepening the kiss, refusing to let go. His knees pressed against your waist, pinning you down as the two of you continued your heated exploration of each other's mouths.

“Baby, wait—” Hongjoong panted, caught off guard as your kisses trailed from his lips to his cheek and down his jawline. You ignored him, your lips marking their path towards his neck—inviting and tempting.

“Y/N…” His voice was a strained whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his control slipping as he groaned, quickly catching your wrists and pinning them above your head. The confusion in your gaze made him gulp.

“I said wait, darling.” His voice was softer now, leaning down to place a gentle peck on your lips. “Let’s not move too fast…” The sincerity in his gaze made your heart flutter, but you felt the throbbing heat of desire coursing through your veins.

“No… it’s okay, Joong… I want to,” you replied softly, uncertainty mingling with determination as you pouted.

“Fuck, baby, I know. So do I.” He sighed, the weight of the moment evident in his expression. He released your wrists, his hands resting on the mattress beside you as he tried to collect himself.

“Then let’s do it…” you whispered, leaning closer. The raw yearning in your voice hung heavily in the air.

“We can’t, baby… not yet,” he hissed, shifting away from you. Panic surged deep within, and you sat up, the distance between you feeling unbearable.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely breaking the silence. Hongjoong gazed at you, concern etched across his handsome face, as he cupped your cheeks—his caress gentle and reassuring.

“I don’t want you to think I’m just trying to sleep with you. As much as you may think I’m not, it’s just as important for me. I— We, want to show you that we really care for you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his affection creating a comforting bubble around you. “The boys and I agreed to not do anything just yet, okay baby?”

His genuine honesty struck a chord in your heart, the ache of warmth spreading through you. You nodded, a soft smile emerging despite the lament of pent-up desire.

“Okay…” you said softly, and Hongjoong smiled back, capturing your lips once again in a gentle kiss, his hands finding their way to your lap.

Then, without meaning to, his fingers brushed against the fabric of your tights, and an immediate awareness rushed over him. The dampness beneath his fingertips sent shockwaves through your system. He paused, pulling back to assess you, his eyes widening with realization.

“Fuck, you got that wet just from kissing?” His voice was thick with surprise, as his fingers tapped against the moist fabric, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

“Joong~,” you gasped, embarrassment flooding you. Heat rushed to your cheeks.

“Remind me, who kissed you tonight?” Hongjoong began drawing lazy patterns against the damp patch, teasing you relentlessly. Your tongue felt tied with embarrassment, and you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

“Tell me, baby,” he whispered, the smirk on his lips telling you he wasn’t letting you off the hook.

“Mingi… Hwa… Jongho… and Yeo…” you whimpered, the confession rolling off your tongue. The teasing darkness in his eyes flared with satisfaction.

“And?” he pressed, his lips ghosting over yours.

“And you…” you admitted, your voice barely a breath.

“I can’t leave you all pent up like this, huh, baby?” Hongjoong murmured, his voice low and sultry, teasing with intent.

“Wouldn’t be very good of me as your boyfriend, now would it?” he continued, playful yet serious.

“I thought you said we can’t do it…” you whimpered, the confusion heating your cheeks even more.

“Yeah… but the boys and I only agreed to actual intercourse.” His lips found your neck, planting soft kisses that sent tingling shivers down your spine. “Never said anything about touching you… with my fingers.”

He pulled away just enough to whisper against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Want me to touch you, darling?”

Your heart raced at the tenderness in his voice as you felt the thrill of anticipation rush through you. “Y-yes, please,” you breathed, tilting your neck instinctively to give him more access. You could barely contain the yearning, the desperate need building inside you, and as his fingers danced along the fabric of your clothing, you knew this night was far from over.

end of chapter 5….

Next chapter

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Author’s note: FINALLY! I know I’m sorry for the super long wait 🥲. I was so busy this past month! Anyways I hope you all like this chapter😝✋. Chapter 6 will be out soon!

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Tag List:

@georgeanabanana @jaytheatiny @mxnsxngie @spenceatiny18 @sanhwalvr @hwxbibi @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @joongscheese @therealcuppicake @velvetskize @hongjoongtime117 @jintastic-yuyu @meiguessss @sookacc @starygw3n @dimeb29 @mingtinysworld @sweetinsaniiity @pixie0627 @uninterested-ghost @ghostlovesworld @tigerlillytaffy @stay-tiny-things @xdinarymango @huachengsbestie01 @wooyoungsbrat @vtyb23 @bambbiisworld @mingisdimple @jaerisdiction @ma-riiii @annoyingwastelandshark @yyaurii @topazzateez @bookswillfindyouaway

unable to tag: @sparda1234 @woohwastuff @cherryynoir @katykatmeow @wyrated @laviedemamere

[pucksandpower]

Charles Leclerc x CEO!Reader - Social Media AU

Formula 1 News: Everything We Know About Arnault Racing So Far

The team is owned by LVMH, the world’s leading luxury goods company, and is named after the prominent Arnault family, which includes LVMH’s chief operating officer Y/N Arnault, wife of Charles Leclerc. Y/N is the youngest daughter of Bernard Arnault, the world’s richest man, and is said to be his favored successor.

They are expected to benefit from the extensive resources and expertise of LVMH which boasts a diverse portfolio of luxury brands such as Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior, Moët & Chandon, TAG Heuer, and Tiffany & Co. These assets could potentially provide Arnault Racing with a competitive edge on and off the track in a sport heavily reliant on business dealings.

As with any new team, Arnault Racing will face numerous challenges including building a strong technical staff, securing talented drivers, and establishing partnerships with sponsors and suppliers. However, the backing of LVMH’s vast resources and the Arnault family’s commitment to success bode well for their prospects.

While no official announcement has been made regarding Charles Leclerc’s involvement with Arnault Racing, his familial connection to the team coupled with his recent decision to step away from Scuderia Ferrari has fueled rumors and heightened interest in whether he will be part of Arnault Racing’s driver lineup … (Read more)

Press Conference of Arnault Racing CEO, Y/N Arnault, and Team Principal, Sebastian Vettel

REPORT Arnault Racing snags Adrian Newey: CEO Y/N Arnault says “whatever arbitrary figure you have in your head, triple it and that’s how much we offered him” (Aug 2023)

NEWS Red Bull loses LVMH-owned sponsor TAG Heuer as entry of Arnault Racing brings new conflict of interest (Dec 2023)

UPDATE A weekend of team bonding on the beach after the car launch? Charles Leclerc and Mick Schumacher talk about flourishing environment at Arnault Racing (Feb 2024)

FEATURE What to expect from Arnault Racing — data from preseason testing explained (Feb 2024)

REPORT Podiums and points: a strong start to the season for newcomers Arnault Racing (Mar 2024)

FEATURE The Prince that was promised: Charles Leclerc triumphs in Monaco (May 2024)

UPDATE Who are the ‘losers’ and ‘winners’ halfway through the season? Arnault closes in on Red Bull as Ferrari falls behind (Jul 2024)

FEATURE What could have been — Arnault’s Charles Leclerc tops the podium in Monza as Tifosi look on (Sep 2024)

NEWS Red Bull’s reign continues as Arnault brings home historic P2 in both the Drivers’ and Contructors’ championship during debut season (Nov 2024)

REPORT Arnault promises more competitive 2025 season following already impressive first year on the grid (Jan 2025)

“We find ourselves at the edge of our seats here in Abu Dhabi. It all comes down to this final lap of the season and the battle for the World Championship has reached its peak! Charles Leclerc of Arnault and Max Verstappen of Red Bull are locked in a fierce duel for the ultimate prize.”

“This is the moment every racing fan has been waiting for. The atmosphere here is electric and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Leclerc and Verstappen have been pushing the absolute limits of their cars and their skills throughout this intense race.”

“They certainly have. Both drivers have showcased their exceptional talent and determination all season long. It’s a clash of titans, and now, as they approach the final corners, it’s do-or-die time.”

“Leclerc has been holding onto the lead for the majority of this race but Verstappen is focused in his pursuit. The Dutchman is determined to wrestle this championship away from Leclerc’s grasp.”

“The tension is palpable here as they enter the final sector. Leclerc seems to be holding his ground but Verstappen is right on his tail, looking for the slightest opportunity to strike!”

“This is nail-biting stuff. The championship hangs in the balance as they approach the final turn. Leclerc takes a defensive line but Verstappen moves to the inside. He’s desperately trying to overtake!”

“Verstappen is side-by-side with Leclerc! They’re wheel-to-wheel! What an incredible battle! They both accelerate out of the corner …”

“They’re neck and neck! It’s an all-out sprint to the checkered flag. Who will emerge victorious?”

“Leclerc finds another gear! He edges ahead of Verstappen!”

“It’s a photo finish! They cross the line. And ... it’s Charles Leclerc! Charles Leclerc has done it! Charles Leclerc is the World Champion!”

“What an incredible end to the season. Charles Leclerc and Arnault Racing have taken the championship title in a heart-stopping finale!”

“This is the stuff of legends. Leclerc has proven himself a champion through and through today. The emotion in the Arnault Racing garage is indescribable!”

“What an amazing moment for Leclerc and his team. This race will be remembered for years to come. Congratulations to Charles Leclerc! Congratulations to Arnault Racing!”

y/narnault

Liked by charles_leclerc, arnaultracing, and 938,572 others

y/narnault ✨ Abu Dhabi, 2017 ✨

A chance encounter in the paddock with a hotshot young driver sent us both sprawling to the ground and ignited a spark that changed our lives forever. Our love story began in Yas Marina as Charles celebrated the end of the season after winning the F2 championship. Little did we know that this would be the start of a remarkable journey, both on and off the track

Fast forward to ...

✨ Abu Dhabi, 2025 ✨

As the CEO of Arnault Racing, it fills my heart with immense pride to witness our immensely talented driver win a much deserved World Drivers' Championship. As the wife of Charles Leclerc, it makes me even prouder to see the most amazing person I know finally be granted the fruit of his labors. There has been no sweeter feeling than chasing our dreams hand-in-hand

Eight years later, in Yas Marina once again, our journey came full circle. Our love, like a well-oiled machine, has only grown stronger with each challenge we faced. Working together as a team, we transformed dreams into reality and surpassed every limit. The joy of victory, the adrenaline of the race — it all pales in comparison to the love and support we share

To our extraordinary team at Arnault Racing, thank you for your relentless commitment and tireless efforts. Each one of you has played a vital role in making history this season and we truly could not have done it without you

Charles, my champion, you continue to inspire me every day with your talent, dedication, and resilient spirit. The road here has not always been easy but I am thankful for every obstacle we faced because they made us grow as people and as partners in both love and racing. We have weathered the storms and celebrated the triumphs. The countless hours of hard work, sacrifice, and pouring over data for so long that we forgot the cookies burning in the oven brought us to this extraordinary moment of victory. But beyond the increasingly crowded trophy cases and roaring crowds, it is our love that always shines the brightest. No matter where we may have placed in the standings, I was always content in knowing that we are P1 on the podium of life — and now we stand on top of both together

This chapter is just beginning. There are still many races left to win, many trophies left to raise, and many championships left to clinch

View all 2,614 comments

charles_leclerc From the moment we met, you have seen me not just as a driver or public figure but as a person with hopes, dreams, and flaws. You have been there for me through the setbacks and the victories and your faith in me never has wavered. Your belief in me pushed me to be the best version of myself and I will spend the rest of our lives eternally grateful for being sent such an angel. Our victories are not only measured by the number of trophies or the applause of the crowds but in the quiet moments we get to bask in the life we built together. Our love has always been the beacon that guides me, even in the darkest of times. It is the constant reminder that no matter where we stand in the standings, we have each other to lean on. I have no doubt that it is because of you that I stand here today. You are my pillar of strength, my constant motivation, and my rock. Without your love and support, none of this would have been possible. Thank you, mon amour, for believing in me, for supporting me, and for always standing by my side. It is fate that brought us together and destiny that irreversibly wove our hearts into one

f1wagupdates you two are singlehandedly keeping my belief in true love alive

formulanone how are they still in the honeymoon phase after eight years together and i can’t even get a text back?

arnaultracing there are power couples and then there is THE power couple 🤩

GQ France: An Interview with 2025 Formula 1 World Champion Charles Leclerc

charles_leclerc and y/narnault

Liked by arnaultracing, pierregasly, and 1,854,632 others

charles_leclerc Baby Leclerc will make their F1 debut in August 🍼

View all 3,927 comments

pierregasly hmmm i wonder what happened a little over nine months before the due date?

mickschumacher no wonder we couldn’t find them during the championship party 😳

arnaultracing a championship baby for our champions 🏆

lovelyleclerc oh to be reincarnated as their baby

leclercbabe it’s really getting gifted godly genes, money, and talent 😭

princecharles is it bad that i’m jealous of a baby that hasn’t even been born yet?

[charliemwrites]

Post-nap warm up

(Edit: still not canon; sorry guys! This is more of an au to the au)

Content: Animal Injury (Non-Descriptive)

You wake up, as you do most days now, to two warm bodies sandwiching yours. Johnny on your left, practically curled around you with his big head on your chest, lightly snoring. On your right, with his body stretched along yours and chin on your head, is Ghost.

You had originally settled on Phantom, but in the course of calling him silly nicknames, you realized he responds to “Ghost” better.

You yawn, stretch as carefully as you can. Both dogs groan and huff. Johnny tries to snuggle in harder, while Ghost sits up with a drawn out sigh.

“Cmon, big baby,” you coo at Johnny’s sad eyes, smoothing your thumb in the silky fur between them, “it’s time to get up.”

He relents only when Ghost shoves his nose under Johnny’s chin and starts nudging him up. You chuckle as Johnny goes out of his way to sneeze on him, earning him a grumble. They two of them shake off while you sit up and stretch, adjusting your skewed tank top to hide your breasts.

The boys follow you into the bathroom for your morning pee, then into the kitchen while Johnny starts chugging from the water bowl while Ghost stations himself next to one of the cabinets, watching you futz with the coffeemaker.

You drop scratches on his head every time you pass, smiling a bit when he licks your palm in return. As your coffee in brewing, you pause to kneel in front of him, dropping kisses all over his face.

“You’ve been doing so well, honey bun,” you murmur, laying your cheek on his head. “I’m so proud. Such a good boy.”

He licks your neck - the only part of you he can reach without dislodging you. For as big and rough as he can be (especially with Johnny) Ghost has been oddly gentle with you since the beginning.

Oh, sure. He can be loud and grumbly - even showed you his teeth once. But he’s never snapped at you, knocked you over, or even really stepped on you while snuggling in. It’s incredibly endearing and you’re sure to encourage him every chance you get.

“I love you, ghost,” you croon as you pull away.

His ears go forward, then back, then forward again. You grin, drop one last kiss on his nose.

“I do,” you continue laughing, “you’re my big shy baby and I love you.”

He huffs. Johnny comes in then, barrels right into you with tail wagging, whining as he nuzzles up under your chin.

“I love you too, John Bon,” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. “My precious snuggle bug.”

He makes a little “ruff” noise that you like to imagine is agreement. You give him one last kiss as well before standing to make your coffee.

They pile onto the couch with you for morning shows, then follow you around the house as you do chores. Around midday you make yourself a little lunch and then say the magic words.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Johnny is instantly bouncing and barking, causing a fuss. Ghost wags, plumed tail sweeping conservatively side to side. You have to wrestle Johnny into his harness, muttering at him under your breath the entire way.

Ghost isn’t much better. Getting him accustomed to the harness has been a work in progress. Apparently he’s not food or play motivated, so training him to even tolerate it has been a challenge. The first two or three times you nearly had to chase him down (thought you were going to get bit one or twice) and even needed Johnny to help.

It’s been better lately, though - even if you have to negotiate him coming over to get strapped in. The black and silver gear is gorgeous on his cream colored fur and you’re sure to tell him that as you clip him in.

Once the boys are geared up, you finish dressing yourself and then open the back door. Ghost charges ahead as usual, ears forward and eyes sharp. Johnny splits off, weaving amongst the trees but returning to your side every couple minutes.

You hit the usual hiking trail with both boys, humming to yourself as they orbit around you. They never stray far, always checking your position and circling back to get a check-in scritch.

Maybe half an hour passes before both boys, currently flanking you, suddenly go alert. You pause, watching their bodies tense, ears forward, eyes focused somewhere ahead, mouths closed.

Ghost barks low and rough. And then they bolt.

You curse, knowing they wouldn’t leave your side for just anything, and hurry to follow.

When you finally catch up, your boys have cornered two men on separate sides of a clearing. They’re crouched low, tense, snarling and growling like thunder.

And there, cowering in the center of the clearing, is perhaps the biggest dog you’ve ever seen. You take in the big stick on the ground, the scattered rocks - nearly gag when you see a couple drops of blood.

Fury burns through you.

“What the hell did you do?!” you shout.

“Call your fuckin’ dogs off!” one of them shouts.

“Fuck off,” you snap in return, Ghost barking roughly with you.

You tug your phone from your pocket. When one of them sees, he starts towards you, only for Johnny to snap viciously at his hand, even drawing blood. He shouts and grabs at his hand, going pale. The other one starts yelling, but you ignore him, knowing your boys will keep them in line.

You dial the police, explain the situation and give your location. While you wait, you turn your attention to the lump of fur in the middle of the forest.

You creep slowly closer, positioning yourself where he can see you coming. The dog’s ears are pinned flat to their skull, mouth pulled tight in fear and pain, eyes squinted.

“Hi gorgeous,” you murmur. An answering whine breaks your heart. “Oh honey, I know. I’m sorry. It’s okay now. I’m here. We’ll keep you safe.”

You inch closer and closer. Stop whenever they twitch like they’re going to run. You dig into a pocket of your coat and extract a treat, gently toss it close to their nose. A twitch, a wet-eyed blink, and then they finally seem to come to life, carefully sniffing at your offering.

“Good baby,” you coo, “so brave.”

The police arrive quicker than you expect, and the dog curls up tight again while you explain the situation. Johnny and Ghost are reluctant to be called off, but a sharp word has them back at your side while the two men are arrested for suspected animal cruelty.

You assure them that you’ll take care of the injured dog - Johnny and Ghost sat like guards at your sides. Once it’s just you and the pups, you turn back to the poor injured dog.

“I know that was scary, sweetie. It’s okay now. No one’s going to hurt you.”

The dog’s ears flick, listening but not trusting. You sigh softly, inch a bit closer.

“Johnny?” you call. “Come here, come see if you can help.”

Johnny turns, follows your pointing. He sniffs at the other dog, licks their ears and forehead, coaxing them out of their tight, terrified curl. You guide Johnny down to his stomach, putting them at similar levels.

On your other side, Ghost leans into your side, watching with those too-sharp, too-intelligent eyes.

As the injured dog slowly starts to unwind, you offer your hand, let them sniff carefully at your palm and wrist.

“There we go,” you soothe as a nervous tongue flicks over your skin. “You’re doing so well, darling.”

Johnny starts wiggling with excitement, nudging at the other dog and whining quietly. Ghost joins, nosing gently at the other dog’s side until they finally shift and start crawling closer to you.

You stare at the size of their paws - nearly bigger than your own palm. They scoot closer and closer until nearly in your lap, snout inching beneath your shirt to press against your stomach.

You smooth your hand over their head, waiting until you see their tail wagging slow and cautious.

“Good baby,” you whisper. “You wanna come home with me, pretty baby?”

Main Story | Ghost | Konig pt. 2

Masterlist

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late To Dream ༓ jjk (m) I Epilogue: Stargaze

✑ Summary: The topic of starting a family has been a vulnerable subject for both of you, especially over the past year as you've struggled to conceive. But tonight, under the blanket of the twinkling sky, your love proves stronger as neither of you is willing to give up hope just yet —and maybe you won't have to.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au, slice of life

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: 8-year age gap, professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), swearing, mentions of past apprehensions of fatherhood, mentions of difficult past, pregnancy journey, and some sexual/suggestive content

Sexual/suggestive warnings: swearing, kissing (making out, neck kisses, etc), hair tugging/playing, sentimental tears, mention of pregnant s*x/c*ming

Now Playing: Heaven by Bryan Adams

a/n: About a year ago I started a series that I'm sure a decent amount of my readers are familiar with. It's one that will always stay close to my heart because of its very nature....it's simply touching for me. Anyway, I've owed everyone, including myself, an epilogue for quite some time. This can be read as a stand-alone, but I do recommend reading the series if you wish to have more context, etc.

Hope you enjoy 🥰

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Tonight, under the vast canopy of stars in the late summer night sky, you feel a peacefulness in your heart as you lie beside your husband of three years on a soft blanket spread out in the backyard.

The air is cool with the scent of freshly cut grass, and the stars shimmer like diamonds above you. You and Jungkook have always loved stargazing together—it's a cherished ritual that brings you closer, grounding you in the beauty and wonder of the universe.

"Look," Jungkook murmurs, pointing towards a particularly bright star. "That one's so bright tonight."

You follow his gaze, smiling softly. "Yeah, it's beautiful."

Jungkook turns to you, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "This is my favorite place to be with you, you know?”

“Mine too,” you reply, snuggling closer to him.

The gentle rustling of leaves fills the silence for a few moments before Jungkook speaks again.

“I’ve been thinking…about us, about our future," he starts.

Your heart skips a beat, sensing the weight of his words. "What about our future?"

"I want us to keep trying to build our family," he says earnestly, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. "I know it hasn't been easy, and we expected to be pregnant months ago, but I believe our time will come."

The topic of starting a family has been a vulnerable subject for both of you, especially over the past year as you've struggled to conceive. It's been filled with tender moments and heartaches, each negative test a painful reminder of the journey.

Countless visits to Dr. Kim for advice and reassurances couldn’t fill the void left by each disappointment. Yet, through it all, neither of you could let the anticipation and hope that have woven themselves into the fabric of your days and nights diminish.

"I believe it too, Kook," you reply, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze his hand.

He turns to face you fully, his gaze searching yours. "I've wrestled with the idea of becoming a father in the past because of my own doubts and fears. But now, I can't wait to be a father, with you by my side. Even if more challenges await us, I want to share this journey with you, every step of the way."

A surge of emotion wells up inside you as memories of the past two years together start flashing through your mind. It was after an unexpectedly sweet encounter with a toddler at the park while painting, that you first brought up the idea of having children to Jungkook. He was initially apprehensive, recalling that neither of you had considered children when you first married for various reasons. But he loved you deeply, so he promised to be open to the idea.

Together, you agreed that rushing into such a significant decision as having a baby wouldn't be wise, considering it was an entirely new venture for both of you. However, over time, through therapy sessions, ongoing exposure to children, and heartfelt discussions, you both gradually felt more prepared and ready to finally welcome this new chapter in your life.

"Jungkook, I…," you pause, knowing that what you're about to share is something you've been bottling up all day, a dream waiting for the perfect moment to be revealed. "I have a feeling things might be different this time."

His eyes widen in surprise, a spark of curiosity igniting within them. "What do you mean?"

You take a deep breath, your voice trembling with mixed emotions. "I mean... today, I took a test. It was positive."

Jungkook's breath catches in his throat, excitement dancing in his eyes before quickly filling with tears of joy. "You mean...?"

You nod, a couple of tears streaming down your cheeks. "Yes, Kook. We're going to have a baby."

In an instant, Jungkook pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. His laughter mingles with your tears as you cling to each other, overwhelmed with happiness.

"I can't believe it," he whispers, pressing a kiss on top of your head. "We're going to be parents."

You nod against his shoulder, the news feeling just as surreal to you as it does to him. "Together, Kook. We're going to be parents."

As you lie under the starlit sky, wrapped in each other's arms and the promise of a new life growing within you, you know that this night will forever be etched in your hearts.

"I love you, and I can't wait to meet our baby," Jungkook says softly, placing a gentle hand on your stomach.

"I love you too." Cradling his face in your hands, you lean in and press your lips gently against his.

With the first month of your pregnancy underway, joy overwhelms you as you and Jungkook share the news with close family and friends.

"I can't believe it! You're finally joining the parent club," Yoongi teases, a mischievous glint in his eye as he recalls his own experience with twin girls. "Get ready for sleepless nights and endless diaper changes."

Taehyung chimes in eagerly, "And I demand to be their godfather! I'll teach your child everything about art and creativity."

"Hey, I think I can handle that part pretty well myself," you playfully interject, gesturing to your personal artwork hanging on the walls.

Taehyung grins, "I suppose you have a point there. But seriously, if you ever need help with anything, you know I'm here."

Jungkook chuckles warmly and pats Taehyung on the shoulder. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

Yoongi smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Your kid will have the best of both worlds Jungkook—__'s artistic flair and your… well, whatever you bring to the table."

"Muscles," you say with a cheeky smirk. "He'll bring the muscles."

The second month arrives fast, but it's not as cheery as the first. Morning sickness kicks in full force, testing your patience and resilience.

Jungkook becomes your pillar of support, always ready with ginger tea and comforting words.

"You're doing great, sweetheart," he reassures you, rubbing your back gently as you rest your head against his shoulder.

"I feel terrible," you admit, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just wish our baby was already here."

"We'll get through this together," Jungkook says softly, planting a kiss on your forehead. "And hey, at least we're getting really good at making ginger tea!"

You manage a weak laugh, grateful to have him by your side.

By the third month, your bump begins to show. Despite your mixed feelings about your changing body, you can't help but feel wonder and amazement at the miracle growing inside you.

"Look at this," Jungkook whispers, gently placing his hand on your belly. "Our little one is growing so fast."

You glance down at his hand, then back up at him with a soft smile. "I know. It's incredible, isn't it? Sometimes it feels like just yesterday we found out. I can't wait to meet them."

Jungkook nods, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Me too. I want to teach them everything I know. I wonder what they'll be like."

You chuckle softly, imagining the possibilities. "Who knows? Maybe they'll have your sense of adventure and my love for creativity. Or maybe they'll be completely different from both of us, which will be okay too."

He grins, pressing a gentle kiss on your belly. "We'll love them no matter what, no doubt about it."

It's the fourth month when you feel your energy returning and renewed optimism as morning sickness subsides. You and Jungkook take walks in the park, hand-in-hand, discussing baby names and nursery decor.

"I think we should go with a woodland theme for the nursery," Jungkook suggests, swinging your intertwined hands as the crisp autumn leaves crunch beneath your feet.

"Sounds perfect," you agree, smiling at his enthusiasm. "We could have little animal decorations and maybe even a mural of a forest. Taehyung hasn't been subtle about wanting to paint the room for us."

"Definitely," Jungkook replies, his eyes bright with excitement. "He'd probably add his own artistic touch too, knowing him."

You chuckle softly, imagining Taehyung's vibrant and whimsical style adorning the nursery walls. "That would be amazing. Our baby would have the most creative room ever."

As you walk, you discuss more details—what kind of crib to get, whether to use soft pastels or earthy tones, and even what kind of mobile would best fit the woodland theme. Jungkook talks about how he wants to try building some of the furniture himself, adding a personal touch to the nursery.

"I want our baby to know how much love went into creating their space one day," he says, squeezing your hand gently.

"I can't wait to see it all come together," you sigh.

Jungkook stops walking and pulls you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on top of your head. "I can't wait either," he whispers.

“Hey,” you say softly, pulling back slightly from his embrace to meet his deep coffee-black eyes. “What would you say if we went home and did something we haven’t been able to do for a little while?”

You then wrap your arms around his neck with a playful smile.

"You mean…sex?” Your husband's eyes widen as he begins to grasp the extent of your suggestion. “But would that be…”

“It’s safe,” you confirm, “Dr. Kim says it’s completely okay and lots of couples do it. No need to worry.”

Jungkook's prior concern washes away, replaced by shock the moment he hears the words drop from your lips. “You asked Seokjin about this?! Our friend?" His eyebrows knit together in confusion and mild disbelief.

“Well, why wouldn’t I?” You chuckle at how cute he looks. “He’s been our doctor for years, Kook. Why wouldn’t I ask him?”

“I know, but it’s…Seokjin.”

“Honey, come on,” you say, attempting to reason with the man. “Are you still mad at him for questioning your sexual ability all those months ago? When we asked his advice on how to increase our chances of conception? You know he didn’t mean it to be anything hurtful.”

“Maybe I’m still irritated about it,” Jungkook pouts. “I guess I’m being petty though. I know he was trying to help.”

“Well, in any case, he was wrong, wasn’t he?” You subtly gesture to your stomach. “Seeing as I’m pregnant with our baby.”

Jungkook's mood seems to lift again as his hands travel down to grip your waist. A playful grin spreads across his face. “I think we should go home now and see if we can prove him even more wrong. What would you say about us having twins?”

You laugh, easily reading between the lines. “Have you been talking to Kim Taehyung? It doesn’t work like that and you know it. You can’t just make love to me while I’m pregnant and expect two babies instead of one. B+ for effort though.”

“Damn, B+? You’re a tough grader, baby. Good thing I might know a thing or two of what you like to get that reaccessed.” He then kisses you before granting you a chance to respond, deepening it within a second.

You feel a tightening build in your core as his tongue smoothly invites itself to slip between the seam of your lips. And despite literally being in the middle of a park, you moan immediately, tugging at a few strands of his hair. A low groan elicits from him as you do this.

Thank god most of the people have left for dinner by now.

“No,” you suddenly mumble, breaking your heated kiss. “This isn’t how we like to do it. We need to go home. Please, let's go home, Kook.”

Jungkook merely smiles in response, takes your hand in his, and quickly leads you to the car where he drives you both home.

That night, as the brisk autumn wind howls outside, your husband doesn't hesitate to take the lead as he makes love to you with all of his being. And by the end of it all, when you both come, you can visibly see the dried tears on both of each other's cheeks.

"Looks like we're starting to turn into two cry babies," you break the silence first.

"I think so too," Jungkook replies, a tad bit breathless. "Is that okay?"

"Of course. As long as you're okay with it too."

"Can't think of a single reason for it not to be." Your husband buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing your neck lightly. "I love you, __, so much if you couldn't already tell." He then looks at you and smiles, his eyes brimming with happiness.

"I love you too," you reply simply. "I always will."

In early December, during your fifth month of pregnancy, emotions run high as you start feeling the baby's first kicks. It's a touching reminder of the life growing within you, bringing tears of joy and occasional bouts of anxiety about the future.

"Feel that?" you ask Jungkook, taking his hand and placing it on your belly where the baby kicks again.

"Wow," he breathes, feeling the tiny nudges beneath his hand. "They're already making their presence known."

You nod, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you. "Seems like they're eager to join the party."

Jungkook grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I guess they heard about your cooking and couldn't wait. They've got good taste already."

You laugh softly, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "Let's hope they also inherit my better sense of direction."

He raises an eyebrow teasingly. "Hey, I've got great instincts."

You shake your head with mock seriousness. "You once got lost in our own neighborhood, Kook."

Jungkook feigns offense, but his smile widens. "Alright, fair point. But I promise I'll navigate parenthood better."

"It's a little bit scary, isn't it?" you say softly.

"It is," Jungkook admits, his grip on your hand tightening reassuringly. "But we'll figure it out together, like we always do."

In the sixth month, you and Jungkook find yourselves nervously seated in the ultrasound room, with you on the medical bed and Jungkook in a chair beside you. The doctor moves the wand over your belly. After a few moments of silence, the screen lights up with images of your baby. Both of you gasp in awe as you see your baby's tiny fingers and toes, their heart beating steadily.

"Everything looks perfectly healthy," the doctor announces warmly, pointing out different features and measurements. "Would you like to know the gender?"

You glance over at your husband, whose eyes are fixed intently on the screen. "What do you think?" you ask. "Do we want to know?"

Jungkook's gaze shifts from the screen to you, reflecting both eagerness and nervousness in his eyes. "I think… yes," he says finally, his voice filled with anticipation.

The doctor smiles warmly and adjusts the ultrasound wand, focusing on a specific area. "Well, it looks like you're having a…"

The suspense lingers in the air as the doctor takes a moment before revealing the gender of your baby. When they do, you and Jungkook can't help but grin at each other.

It’s a girl.

The reality of impending parenthood settles in deeper during the seventh month as you and Jungkook diligently attend prenatal classes together. The sessions are eye-opening, filled with valuable information, but they also serve as stark reminders of the challenges awaiting you both. There are moments of frustration and tears as you grapple with sleepless nights and discomfort.

"I'm so tired," you confess one evening, sinking into Jungkook's arms with a sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. "Well, they say parenthood is good practice for functioning on minimal sleep, right?"

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood. "I think I need a lot more practice."

"You're doing an amazing job, baby," he assures you, his hands rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. "I'm truly in awe of you."

"Thanks, but I feel like a mess most of the time."

Jungkook shakes his head and gently guides you to look up at him. "If this is what a mess looks like, then I'll take it," he says softly, leaning in to steal a kiss.

In the eighth month, the physical strain of pregnancy becomes more apparent, introducing moments of fatigue and vulnerability. Everyday tasks like tying your shoes or putting a load of laundry in become increasingly challenging. However, with Jungkook as your husband, his attentive care shines through. He insists on handling all the chores without a second thought, from washing the dishes to preparing meals, often coaxing you to rest while he handles things.

"You really don't have to do all this," you protest with a weary smile as Jungkook scrubs a pot clean, his sleeves rolled up.

"I want to," he insists, flashing a reassuring grin over his shoulder.

You start to rise from the couch, still intent on helping, but Jungkook rushes over and gently guides you back onto the cushions. His touch is both firm and tender.

"Please, just relax, honey," he says softly, kneeling beside you. His hands find yours, warm and comforting, as he gives them a light kiss.

"But-" you begin, a hint of resistance in your voice as you look up at Jungkook.

"I know this isn’t easy," he says, his expression softening with understanding. "But let me take care of you, okay? I've got this."

You sigh, torn between wanting to ease his burden and accepting his offer of support. "I just feel like I should be doing more," you admit, your voice tinged with frustration.

Jungkook shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "You've already done so much," he reassures you, his gaze unwavering. "Let me handle things tonight. Tomorrow, we can tackle everything together again, okay?"

His words soothe the inner conflict within you, and you reluctantly nod, knowing he's right. "Okay," you concede softly, “Thank you.”

In the ninth month, you're surrounded by friends and family who gather at your house to celebrate your baby shower. The room is adorned with soft pastel decorations and delicate baby-themed accents, reflecting the joyous anticipation of your impending newborn.

"Look at you, all grown up and about to be a dad," Yoongi teases Jungkook, earning a playful swat on the arm from his wife.

Jungkook laughs, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess it's happening. Better start practicing my dad jokes, huh? Got any you haven’t used yet hyung?" He winks at Yoongi, who rolls his eyes in good-natured amusement.

Taehyung joins in, holding up a quirky baby outfit. "This would look adorable on your little one, don't you think?" he suggests with a grin, adding to the playful banter.

Jimin, always the entertainer, spins around the room, capturing everyone's attention. "I can't wait to spoil this baby rotten!" he exclaims with a mischievous grin, eliciting laughter from the group. "I'll be the best uncle ever, just you wait!"

Jungkook chuckles, wrapping an arm around you. "Yeah, we might have to keep an eye on Uncle Jimin's antics once this baby is born.”

Finally, the tenth month arrives, and you approach your due date with growing anticipation. One June morning, as you're bustling about the kitchen, an unfamiliar warmth between your legs startles you. Your heart skips a beat with excitement and a touch of nervousness as you realize what’s just happened.

"Jungkook!" you call out, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jungkook hurries into the kitchen, eyes widening as he sees the puddle on the floor. "Please tell me your water just broke and that's not just a spill," he says, his voice filled with a mix of concern and excitement.

You nod, feeling a rush of emotions. "I think so. We need to go to the hospital."

With swift action, Jungkook helps you gather your hospital bag and gently guides you to the car. The drive is filled with a mix of anticipation and supportive words from Jungkook, his hand firmly holding yours all the way. You focus on your breathing, trying to stay calm and centered as you prepare for the birth of your baby girl.

In the delivery room, surrounded by medical staff and with Jungkook by your side, you endure the intensity of labor. Hours pass in a whirlwind of effort and support, until finally, with a spirited cry, your baby girl enters the world.

As you hold her for the first time, a sense of overwhelming love washes over you both. "She's perfect," you whisper, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks.

Jungkook leans in for a quick peck before gently kissing your baby girl’s forehead. "Just like her mom," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

After much consideration, you both decide on the name Ara, a name that symbolizes beauty and grace, perfectly fitting for your precious daughter.

It's now mid-July, and the late afternoon sun bathes the living room in a soft, golden glow as Jungkook sways gently with Ara in his arms. It's hard to believe almost six weeks have passed since bringing your little angel home. Ara has recently started smiling, and you can't help but notice how much it resembles her father's. Her small frame seems even tinier against his broad chest now, her head nestled against his shoulder as if she were listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Jungkook's movements are graceful and tender, his voice humming along to the lullaby as he continues dancing with your daughter. You lean against the doorway, a tender smile playing on your lips as you watch the scene unfold. Soft strains of a lullaby play in the background, blending with the sweet sound of your daughter's giggles while her tiny hands reach up to grasp Jungkook's fingers.

"Appa's dancing with you, sweetheart," you murmur, your voice filled with affection and pride.

Jungkook glances up, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of love and happiness. "She loves our little dance sessions, doesn't she?"

"She adores you," you reply softly, feeling a warm swell of love in your chest.

Seeing Jungkook, once uncertain about fatherhood due to his difficult past, now embracing your daughter with tenderness, fills you with pride. The love and devotion he pours into every sway speak volumes about the kind of father he has become – patient, nurturing, and utterly devoted.

As the lullaby reaches its gentle conclusion, Jungkook carefully lowers your daughter into her crib, tucking her in with a soft blanket. She coos softly, her eyelids fluttering as she settles into a peaceful sleep. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to us," he whispers before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

Later that evening, after a leisurely dinner, you find yourselves nestled on the couch in the cozy warmth of your living room. A single lamp in the far corner casts soft shadows across Jungkook's face as he idly traces patterns on your arm, lost in thought.

"Hey," you say softly, breaking the comfortable silence that envelops you. "What's on your mind?"

Jungkook looks at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. His eyes hold a glint of contemplation.

"I was thinking… about Ara."

You nod encouragingly, "What about her?"

"She's going to grow up so fast," Jungkook muses, his voice laced with a hint of sentiment. "And… I can't help but imagine her with a little brother or sister someday."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a rush of emotions flooding through you. "You've been thinking about another baby?"

Jungkook nods, his gaze searching yours for understanding and reassurance. "Yeah. I mean, not right now, of course. But… in the future. I think Ara would love having a sibling to grow up with."

A soft smile graces your lips as you squeeze his hand gently. "I think so too. I'm sure she'd make a wonderful big sister."

He leans closer, his forehead brushing against yours in a gesture of intimacy and connection. "I just wanted to talk about it, you know? Make sure we're on the same page."

"We are," you assure him, "Whenever you're ready, I'm ready too."

Jungkook's lips find yours in a tender kiss, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I love you and I'm so happy we're finally starting a family. Thank you for making me a father."

a/n: Too sweet? Perhaps so, but it's how I roll 😎 haha anyway, if you were looking forward to a more detailed baby-making scene, well it's in the series so have at it lol. But now...I'm going to sleep. Maybe I'll open my requests for some more drabbles with the TLTD couple (or I'll make my own requests haha)

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 13: Dirty Wrestling

Perv!Eddie Munson x Fem!Delinquent!Childhood Bully Friend!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, dirty wrestling, mean!tomboy!reader, tease!reader, sub!eddie/dom!reader, s-dere reader (think like a playful Wednesday Addams), pervy!eddie, featuring f-boy!steve, modern au, childhood bullying, misogynistic views of women by the hellfire members and steve, kissing, mentions of amazon position, mentions of protected sex, mentions of overstimulation and multiple orgasms, reader gets the last laugh

Summary: Eddie so desperately wants to get laid and seeks you out as an option. He gets more than what he bargained for when he finds out the hard truth why you don’t stick your dick in crazy.

A/N: This was super fun and experimental and I don’t care that it flops I love it 🥰

Eddie groggily trudges into the lunchroom, appearing more disheveled than usual. He plops down into his seat, the bickering amongst his peers ceases as they look at him with concern.

“Eds, you look like shit.” Jeff says.

“Yeah, what gives?” Gareth chimes in.

Eddie darts his eyes on each side before speaking. “Cover your ears, little sheep.”

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas exchange confused looks. Impatient; Eddie waves a dismissive hand and they eventually obey grumbling about how stupid it is.

“Gentlemen, I want—no, no…I need to get laid. It is actually concerning,” Eddie begins, flexing his fingers in an open and shut fist. “This hand…satisfies me no longer. I need to get my dick wet or I think I might go insane. It’s gotten so bad to the point where this morning, I opted to ride a crowded bus instead of driving simply because I wanted to feel the warmth of a woman. As the kids say, ‘I am down horrendous’.”

“Me too,” Gareth sighs in frustration. “I don’t even care for penetration. I just want to be held.”

“Boy, I’m sure lucky I’ve got a girlfriend to get laid whenever I want. I mean, well…whenever she wants,” Jeff’s smile slowly fades as he stares into space. “It’s been 3 weeks and counting but it’ll be anytime before she comes asking. Aaaanytime.”

“I bet I’d get some before Jeffy gets any again.” Gareth chuckles.

“Not before me.” Eddie challenges.

“Are you both making a bet on the basis of my suffering?” Jeff asks, nostrils fuming.

“Yep, yeah, pretty much.” Eddie and Gareth say in unison.

“And how the hell are you two planning on doing that? We’re lucky we even lost our virginities to begin with. Where the hell are you two going to find girls willing to sleep with you when you can’t even look ‘em in the eyes?” Jeff inquires.

“Maybe I could direct you plebeians to a solution?” Dustin interjects, causing the three older boys to turn their attention his way. He’s tapping the tips of his fingers together, a mischievous smirk on his face,

“No offense, Henderson,” Eddie scoffs. “But what the shit could you possibly help us with? Just last week, you thought the condoms in Steve’s bedroom were balloons.”

“Obviously, I’m referring you to him. He helped me build my confidence with the ladies,” Dustin trills in a dorky growl that causes everyone to cringe. “Wouldn’t have the guts to speak to my Suzie-poo if it weren’t for him. If you’re looking to make some happy screams, he’s your guy.”

“No way,” Eddie laughs. “I’m not some sorry loser taking a class on picking up chicks.”

“That’s exactly what you are.” Lucas argues.

“Au contraire, Sinclair,” Eddie begs to differ. “Would a sorry loser shred ‘Master of Puppets’ on guitar after just a week of listening to the song?”

“Yes, that’s huge loser energy.” Mike answers.

“We have a campaign to run in a week,” Dustin says. “I’d rather you two have the heads on your shoulders to be in the game and nothing otherwise.”

And pathetic as it is, Eddie and Gareth would soon find themselves in front of Steve’s dorm room. Dustin lays a few knocks on the door as the older pair internally ping-ponged between pessimistic embarrassment and optimistic desire.

Steve opens the door with a knowing smile. “Well, well, well boys. I’d say I’m surprised to see you but my loyal client here has informed me of your arrival,” He touches two fingers to his temple as if to concentrate his ‘powers’. “Lemme guess, you both wish to consecrate with women.”

“I…think you mean ‘consummate’.” Dustin corrects.

“That’s what I said,” Steve snorts, throwing open his door and gesturing inside with a repeated swat of his hand. “Come on, let’s get this show on the road, I’ve got a date with twins. One at 8 and the other at 10.”

“Twins?” Gareth whisper-yell, shooting Eddie a look of excitement.

“You’re bluffing.” Eddie dismisses.

“If I’m lying, I’m crying,” Steve says before showing off his phone screen with a photo of the girls. “And you don’t see any tears, do you?”

“Teach us your ways, oh, great Master.” Gareth says in awe.

“That’s King to you. Have a seat and listen well, boys.” Steve instructs before sitting on the edge of his computer desk while three boys sit on a small sofa across from him. “First off, you gotta weigh out your options. If you’re in it for the long haul, then you can go for the girl that takes a lot of effort to get. These are usually the girls you might’ve been pining for, for a while. But since you’re looking for a quick nut, then you’ll need to weigh out your feasible options. Gare Bear, whatcha got?”

“Helen from the drama club. Oh, and there’s this cute barista at my local coffee shop that’s been giving me the eye whenever I come by. She even puts a heart over the ‘i’ in my name.” Gareth says.

“You don’t have an ‘i’ in your name.” Eddie says, blinking in bewilderment.

“I know her!” Dustin exclaims. “My mom does some light chatting with her here and there whenever she picks up her coffee. The ‘eye’ you’re referring to is just an involuntary twitching of the eye from prolonged exposure to bright lights in the shop,” Dustin explains to Gareth who begins to slump in defeat. “B-but on the bright side, they’ve fixed those pesky lights recently so if she’s giving you the eye, it’d be for real this time.”

“I’m pretty sure she puts an ‘i’ with a heart on everyone’s coffee cups,” Steve adds. “Cute girl but not the best speller.”

“You’re not helping, buddy.” Dustin sing-songs, through gritted teeth.

“What about you, Munster? What’re your options?” Steve asks with an inquisitive rubbing of his chin.

Eddie searches his thoughts. “No one.”

“You’ve gotta give me something to work with, fellas,” Steve sighs. “Someone’s gotta come to mind.”

“Dude, what about that juvie chick? The one who lives in the same park as you,” Gareth suggests. “Wasn’t she like your childhood friend or something? You’d be so in there!”

“(Name)?! Fuck no!” Eddie shouts. “She wasn’t my friend. She was my first bully.”

————

Age 13

The first time he’d met you, you were both in cuffs at a police station. The two of you sat across from one another as you awaited to place a phone call to your guardians.

Suddenly you retrieved a hair pin from your mouth, clutching it firmly between your teeth as you brought your shackled hands up to your face and picked the lock. Not a moment later, you were free. Eddie could only watch on in awe as you stood up, the cops too busy to notice you.

“A little help here. I can’t have my uncle see me in this place again.” Eddie whispered to you.

“Of course.” You said with a sweet smile before tossing the bobby pin at his feet. “Good luck.”

With a quick blow of a kiss, you strode away and Eddie’s expression morphed into bafflement and dismay.

“Hey! I can’t reach it!” Eddie shouted but you’d been long gone and he’s now alerted the police to your departure.

Age 14

Since then, he was sure he’d never see you again until he briefly attended an alternative school and ran into you again. The moment you saw him, you purposefully tripped him to the ground for ‘ratting you out’.

The torment only seemed to worsen once you began to actively seek his friendship because very few were brave enough to befriend you. Sometimes, you’d invite him over to your trailer home and he’d get a glimpse of exactly why you are the way you are. As you are the youngest and the only girl in the family of a workaholic father and 3 older brothers who were just as chaotic and malicious as you. Then came the day you’d make your ‘friendship’ official, when you all but cornered him in the boys’ locker room.

“Munson, I’m looking for a best friend.” You nonchalantly asked, unfazed by the half-naked boys running amuck at your presence.

“Are you stupid? You can’t be here! You’ll get in trouble.” Eddie chastised.

“What else is new?” You shrugged before taking his hand. “Come on, applications are open and I can’t imagine being besties with anyone other than you.”

“W-what happened to the last guy?” He asks while recalling the last boy toy that you’ve once dragged around the school.

“Let’s just say the ‘bestie’ slot opened up after my last one yelled at me in class. Heard he got visited by the men in white that very same day. Something about an anonymous person calling into a mental institution to report him for his aggression. Wonder who it could’ve been.” You ended with a feigned innocent look.

Eddie really wished he could’ve said ‘no’. But he couldn’t dare end up like the last guy. Even as his peers from behind your view, mimed and charaded away gestures advising against it—, Eddie reluctantly agreed. Thus began a whirlwind of a friendship filled with lots of delinquency and drama.

Age 15

Then by the grace of whatever, Eddie had been able to leave the alternative school and attend Hawkins High after teachers cited an improvement in his performance in his classes. He was finally going to be free.

“It really sucks to see you go. You’re probably going to be so lost without me. If you’d like I could create a distraction that’ll allow us to stay together.”

“No!” Eddie yells then immediately adjusts his tone. “I mean…no. It’s probably for the best that I go to a boring old public school. We had good times but, alas, we must part. I could only hope that we’ll meet again someday.”

“Well, you may be going to a different school but we can still hang out afterschool. We live in the same place after all.” You beamed.

“I’m moving,” Eddie quickly lied. “Possibly very far away. To a remote area that’s so far, there isn’t even an address you can call in to or send me letters or anything.”

“Damn, sounds like my last juvie center. I’ll be wishing for the day we meet again, bestie.” And with that you gave him a crushing hug.

It was a shitty thing to do. Lying to a supposed ‘friend’. He knew. But what else could he have done? You were a lot and sometimes quite the nightmare. He’d have died an early death messing around with you. Ever since then, he avoided you at all costs, making sure to never cross paths with you again. He’d done so successfully for about 3-4 years. Hell, you’ve probably forgotten about him.

If he’s that lucky…

———

“She made me take the fall for a lot of things she did, treated me like a lapdog, made me get into situations where I could’ve died— you know, she once tied me to a tree and left me there for an hour. I had to break out of it on my own only to find out that she’d been only a couple feet away, timing my escape. Last I heard, she hasn’t changed.”

“Yeah, but have you seen her as of late? She’s fucking hot. I’d thank her if she were to spit on me.” Gareth says dreamily while Dustin furrows his brows in disgust.

“Then why don’t you try your luck with her instead?” Eddie asks.

“Because she’s clearly into you.” Gareth retorts.

“I’d advise neither of you two to mess with her,” Steve warns. “The hotter a crazy woman is—buckle the fuck up because you’ll be in for a wild rollercoaster ride. Your inexperienced nerdy hearts couldn’t possibly take that much excitement. They don’t call her ‘The Siren’ for shits and giggles.”

“Siren?” Eddie questions.

“Sirens are evil mythical creatures that lure men to their dooms.” Dustin clarifies.

“Sounds about right.” Eddie mutters.

“You guys ever heard of Norm Prescott?” Steve questions ominously.

“Who?” The boys ask at once.

“Exactly,” Steve says while pointing a finger. “Norm was a kid in my year. Good kid. Captain of the robotics club. Member of the swim team. The poor bastard came across her page on a dating app last year, messaged her, fucked her and he was never seen again. Rumor has it, he went completely insane after one night with her and needed to attend college in a different city in order to be free of her spell. Pussy from a crazy chick will ruin your fucking life. Heed my words: Do not stick your dick in crazy.”

“I don’t know…That sounds kind of metal.” Eddie admits.

“Yeah. What could possibly go wrong?” Gareth asks.

“Pretty much everything from the way that eerily sounded.” Dustin shudders.

“Dudes, she’s not actually some evil mythical…” Eddie’s voice trails off before he correctly starts up again. “She’s not a mythical creature. Just an adrenaline junkie with a sadistic streak.”

“Somehow that sounds worse.” Dustin comments.

“So you’re going to do it?!” Gareth asks.

“‘Course not,” Eddie scoffingly laughs. “I’m desperate…but I’m not that desperate.”

“Good boy,” Steve praises before taking a swig of his beer. “The tale of Norm Prescott is a cautionary one. I don’t want to see any of the people I care for lured to their doom. Oh…and I guess I wouldn’t want that for you guys either.”

“I think I’ll go ahead and consider myself lucky that I’ll never have to experience some shit like that.” Dustin sighs in relief.

“Wait for it.” The older three reply in unison.

———

Eddie’s stomach churned with envy when he learned that two days later Jeff had gotten some from his girlfriend, noticing the bounce in his step. It felt almost like a bad omen to him which confirmed his paranoia when Gareth had bragged to him about receiving the local barista’s number, citing King Steve as his guru.

Though no serious stakes were in place, Eddie truly felt as though he’d max out all his options. He couldn’t possibly be the only one caught in a dry spell when he’s already regarded as a freak enough!

Maybe a night with you didn’t seem so bad after all.

“I see that look in your eyes,” Steve says, tossing a card into the pile before suavely leaning back in his chair. “You’re thinking about fucking her, aren’t you?”

“Gah, this again!” Dustin groans, angrily tossing a card on top. “It’s already bad enough I nearly walked in on Nancy and Jonathan doing the ‘hokey pokey’ while needing the bathroom at Mike’s place. Something must be in the air. Hormones, pheromones, angst—I don’t flippin’ know.”

“H-how is she by the way?” Steve says breaking his f-boy persona. “She ever asked about me.”

“Yes, Stevie, I’m sure she thought of you while getting railed against a bathroom sink by Johnny boy.” Eddie says sarcastically.

“You’re a little snappy.” Steve grumbles.

“Because I’m frustrated,” Eddie cries. “Gareth’s probably going to get off before me. In fact, everyone will—maybe even you’ll get some before me, Dustin, because apparently I’m so much of a loser that I can’t get a single girl to want me.”

“Maybe you should just go for the crazy chick. It’s been years. I’m sure she’s changed. Befriend her again so that you’ll finally get some action and we don’t have to hear you yapping about being a sad little virgin all the time. I mean, how bad could she really be?” Dustin poses the question.

“Norm Prescott…” Steve singsongs.

“But did he die?” Dustin counters.

Steve stands corrected, quirking his head. “You’ve got a point there.”

“Sh-should I really? What if she hates me?” Eddie ask timidly.

“Hate sex with a crazy lady? Sounds like a deadly mix. Not a bad way to go if you ask me.” Steve says.

———

“Hot date tonight, tiger?” Wayne asks with an amused smile and arms crossed as he leans against his nephew’s door frame.

“Actually, I’m going to see an old friend.” Eddie says vaguely, causing Wayne to tilt his head in suspicion.

“You mean that sailor-mouthed girl you used to get up to no good with? Didn’t you used to beg me to lie about your whereabouts to her?”

“We were only immature children then, Way-dog,”Eddie excuses. “We’ve grown apart from our former selves.”

“Just last week, you asked me to schedule a dentist appointment for you because you were afraid to speak to a live person.” Wayne deadpans.

“I was…saving my vocals for a gig.” Eddie justifies.

Wayne sighs, knowing exactly what his nephew is going to get up to. So like the supportive parent that he is, he slips a row of condoms into the pocket of Eddie’s leather jacket.

“Just be careful, son,” Wayne says while patting his chest. “Wearing protection can save you in a lot of ways—“

“O-kay, I’m getting a little uncomfortable. Goodbye.” Eddie flushes red, knowing by now that his own uncle knew the rule of crazy women and that his poor nephew was too far gone to help himself.

Once Eddie’s out the door, his body shakes at the thought of seeing you again after all these years. Would you remember him fondly or as a liar?

Then, he spots you sunbathing in a lawn chair, puffing a vape pen and flipping through a magazine. You’re in a tight yellow bikini with only a small sheer coverall around your waist. Your skin looks so well moisturized, he can tell you’d feel so soft. That thought alone was enough encouragement to keep him going.

He clears his throat and you choose to ignore it at first until he’d done it again. You lower your heart-shaped sunglasses, glaring up at him for a moment before your expression softens—in fact, it brightens once he’s sure you recognized him.

“Bestie…that you?” You ask, rising to your feet.

“In the flesh.” Eddie says nervously shifting his weight on either foot.

“It’s been so long,” You hugged him with that same crushing power that was all too familiar. He should be traumatized but instead he shudders happily, breathing in your vanilla scent. “How are you?”

You pulled away and he had to catch himself from pathetically chasing your embrace.

“I’m great. Really great. Y-you look like you’re doing well, too.” Eddie says with an anxious giggle.

“I am. Thanks for noticing,” You say almost suggestively. “You wanna come inside so you and I can properly catch up? My brothers aren’t home.”

“Yes!” He says a little too eagerly and it makes you laugh.

“Well, come on in then, partner. Don’t be shy,” You beckon, taking his hand and leading him into your lair. “I only bite when necessary.”

His heart beats a mile a minute when instead of being led to sit at the sofa, he’s dragged to your bedroom. He fiddles with his fingers nervously as you begin to lock the door. You turn to face him again with that famous mischievous smirk.

“You remember as kids when we used to play doctor? Those were fun times, right?

Dustin was sooo wrong. You didn’t change whatsoever and Eddie’s slowly regretting his decision.

“Y-yeah. So fun,” He lies, swallowing the hard lump in his throat before taking steps back at your inching approach. “Though, you had me shitting bricks at times when you suggested we use real medical tools instead.”

“I was only messing with you.”

“Hard to believe that when you used to chase me with a pair of scissors.” The backs of Eddie’s knees hit the edge of your bed and his arms flail to keep himself upright.

“But friends can tell little white lies here and there? I never intended on hurting you. Not too badly at least. You know a thing or two about lying to your friends…don’t you, Edward?” The moment you’re a little too close for his liking, Eddie dashes from in front of you and towards your bedroom door but the complicated locks scramble his brain. He quickly faces you again, not wanting to keep his eyes from you too long in case you do something.

You plant your hands on either side of his head, closing the gaps between your bodies. Your full breasts are pressed up against him and yet he’s too scared to care.

“Why’d you lie, bestie?” You ask. “Didn’t we have fun times together? We roughhoused, got into some wild antics, and we even cried together.”

Except, it was Eddie that was doing most of the crying!

“I-I didn’t mean to…t-o...” Eddie says, voice pitched high.

“To lie? Oh, Eddie, mother tells me that when a man lies, he certainly means to do so,” You give a low, dark chuckle. “So after all these years, Eddie, why did you decide to see your dear old pal again?”

“T-to apologize.” He swallows.

“With your cock?” You ask with an innocent tone, batting your lashes. You glide a hand up his inner thigh until it lands on the hard bulge in his jeans, palming him in your surprisingly strong yet dainty-looking hands.

He gasps, fearing that you’d be psychotic enough to break his dick. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Just please let me go and I will never bother you again.”

“Oh, I’ll let you go,” You flick your tongue along the bottom length of his straight nose. “But I’d like to play a game…for old times sake.”

“Is it ‘smackdown’?” He whimpers.

“I was actually going to suggest a game of ‘Go Fish’ since you’re always so good at that,” You blink blankly before a sinister expression takes over. “But I like your idea.”

He curses himself in his head, helpless as you grab fistfuls of his jacket and drag him away from the door.

‘Smackdown’ was a wrestling game the two of you created sprinkled with your own sadistic twist in which you two used to wrestle one another. Eddie quite liked to play wrestling with you but as a scrawny kid back then, you’d always win the match. The rules were that you’d have to pin your opponent to the ground for at least 7 seconds. Winner gets the choice to do whatever they want.

If Eddie’s going to get himself out of this mess, he needs to use all the strength he’s got. No holding back. Luckily for him, he’d grown a lot bigger than you.

On either side of the room, you two stare intensely at one another. Eddie charges you with a loud battle cry and pins you down to your fluffy white rug. He’s never had this much of the upper hand. Never gotten past 3 seconds. It’s almost too good to be true.

But when he’s gotten past 4 seconds his heart soars as he can practically taste the freedom. Seeing you struggle for free yourself beneath him was quite satisfying within itself. But then at the 6 second mark, you made the cruelest move yet…you reminded him of his desperation.

You lunged forward and kissed him.

Distracted by this, Eddie releases your wrist in shock. You’re quick to gain the advantage as you roll on top of him and pin his wrists down for the 7 seconds.

“I win.” You gloat.

“You cheated!” He hisses.

“You’re allowed to play dirty or did you forget the rules.”

“What are you going to do to me? Scour the internet for the worse medieval forms of torture to use against me?”

“Tempting,” You say and Eddie wishes he’d shut his big fucking mouth. “But I like my idea better.”

Digging your nails into his scalp and gathering a large amount of his hair in your hand, you crash your lips onto his again. Your other free hand fiddles with the zipper of his jeans and he moans into the kiss when your hands are enclosed around his girthy member.

“I’ve got this new wrestling move I’ve been dying to try,” You whisper against his lips before nipping the bottom lip. “I like to call it the amazon warrior power press. Wanna see?”

By the time you’re through with him; you’ve tossed him in every position you could think of and used him like a proper toy—you’ve officially ruined all women for him. He’s never been fucked as if he were a slut. Cum-filled condoms like inflated balloons piling up beside his head after every round; he’d lost count after 4.

He was a drooling, pussy-drunken fool by the end of it but you gave him no time to bask in it as you’d pushed him out of your home practically naked.

In his underwear, his clothes and shoes in a balled-up mess in his hands—deep hickies and love bites littered all over his skin, he looks up at you on your porch with a desperate yet hopeful smile. His friends will mourn Eddie Munson for he, too, has been cursed with the same spell that once begot Norm Prescott. And even worse, he didn’t have the capacity to care.

“Will I get to see you again?” Eddie says while fumbling to catch his things from falling. “I’d like to take you out on a date sometime. M-maybe I could get your number?

“Sorry, bestie,” You say, faking a sad pout. “But I’m moving.”

And with that, you shut the door square in his face.

[vunblr]

Masterlist

Thanks for stopping by! Enjoy the journey through these stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Bucky Barnes

The Weight of Choices (Smut. Slight angst.) Oneshot.

Summary: Torn between his instinct to protect his family and his desire to be a part of their lives, Bucky tries to deal with the reality of his ex-wife going on a date while he stays home caring for their son.

---

An Unfinished Goodbye (Slight Angst. Story before The Weight of Choices, still it would be good to read that one first.) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky tells himself he’s only watching over his ex-wife and son for their safety. But when someone threatens to alter the status quo, his quiet vigilance falters.

The Memory Remains (Fluff. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: An unexpected encounter brings Bucky face-to-face with someone from his past, stirring memories he thought were long buried.

Wounds and Walls (Smut. Slight angst.) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky starts to walk into his new civilian life but struggles with his painful past, while slowly building a connection with someone who sees through his walls. As the relationship deepens, he must decide if he’s ready for something more, or if he’ll hide and push it all away.

Crumbs of Connection (Fluff.) Oneshot

Summary: When Bucky wanders into a quirky late-night bakery, he doesn’t expect the warmhearted owner to challenge his defenses.

A Heart in Hiding (Angst-Hurt/Comfort) Oneshot

Summary: Caught between the shadows of his past and an unexpected connection, Bucky wrestles with his demons and his growing feelings for a new Avenger.

Fangs and Spells (Smut. World of Warcraft AU) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky, a grumpy worgen warrior, and his sharp-tongued mage partner are sent on a relatively simple quest that quickly spirals into chaos.

To Mend a Soldier (Slight angst. Comfort. Fluff.) Oneshot

Summary: Pressed by a worried Sam, Bucky reluctantly agrees to try an alternative -and, if you ask him, weird- therapy program: rent-a-mom. What starts as an obligation soon turns into something far more meaningful than he ever expected.

Lumberjack Bucky Series

Roots and Branches (Fluff. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky has built a quiet life in the woods, content to keep the world at arm's length. But when a new neighbor moves to town, her presence ignites emotions he’s hesitant to face.

Heartwood (Fluff. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: After Sam’s party, Bucky begins to navigate uncharted territory as he works to balance his growing feelings and lingering insecurities in his blooming relationship.

Threads and Timber (Fluff. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky grapples with a questionable Christmas gift.

The Recipe for Us (Fluff. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky sets out to surprise his girlfriend with a simple yet meaningful gesture, but quickly learns that some things are easier said than done.

Destroyer!Chris

Chains of Fate (Fluff. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: A florist keeps having trouble with her bicycle, and Chris, her rugged mechanic neighbor, is always available to help. Or isn’t he?

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

[littlefireball]

ᴘᴇʀᴠ! ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ x 9ᴛʜ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ!ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ(?)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 443~

A/n: recently i love 9th member au so much but there are not that many fics, so i wrote it myself. Inspired by this fic.

9th member AU//Part 2

[In the dorm]

• You're living solo on the top floor of the dorm. He always swings by your place to grab a bite since his fridge is empty. (And he picks the perfect time when you're in the shower.)

• he can sneak into your room and snag the underwear you stashed at the back of the closet, making sure you don't catch him. 

• He even compares his hand to your bra cup, picturing how it would feel to hold your chest fully.

• Buy the same perfume as yours, just so he can spray it on your panties while using it to jerk off.

• Lying on your bed when you are still showering and smelling the fragrance of your pillow (he loves the scent of your hair but he never tells you.)

• Imagining to have sex with you as he holds your pillow tight. (Rubbing it between his thighs :) Oops...)

• Acting as if nothing happened as you walk out from the bathroom. But actually he is eyes fucking you as you just stepped out wrapped in a towel. (who told you to always forget to take your pajamas?

• Of course, there is a secret gallery in his phone that is full of your fancams and photos (almost sexy photos). He can just cum on your panties when watching your fancams.

• Reading him x you smut fanfics and storing all his favourite in his phone. So that he can re-read them again and again.

• Creating a blank account to watch your live stream on Youtube and pop without anyone noticing. 

• Watching him x you compilations on Youtube and Twitter (X). Searching for him x you smut fanarts. 

• He loves to challenge you to arm wrestle (even though you've said no a bunch of times, he drags you to the table anyway). At first, you thought he was just showing off, but it's more than that. He relishes the chance to hold your hand, gently rubbing your palm with his thumb because he loves how soft it feels.

• Staring at you 24/7.

• Caressing your stomach as he teaches you how to sing with your inside voice (Dantian)

One day, while you were tidying up your closet, you noticed that your underwear collection was getting pretty sparse. It struck you as odd since you hadn't tossed out that many. You figured maybe you had stashed some in a different closet and didn't think much of it. So, you picked up a few more pairs and moved all your underwear to another cabinet. 

When Jongho opened your drawer like he usually does, he couldn't find your underwear. Just then, he heard someone say something from behind.

"What are you looking at?Panties thief." 

Oh shit. He fucked up.

Part 2 is here

tag list: @angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615, @monsta-x-jagi

[i-care-4u]

guess ✹ lewis hamilton

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

PAIR: LEWIS HAMILTON X JOURNALIST!READER

FACECLAIM: CATHY KELLEY [she/her]

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST

A/N: guess who has another sport obsession in the making (aka wrestling)! and i blame my friends and the roman reigns edits on tiktok (he’s literally so fine).

→ INSTAGRAM

f1news

Liked by albonbons, chamilton, lewclerc, and 60,271 others

f1news After 9 years of covering Formula One news for Sky Sports, Lewis Hamilton’s girlfriend and journalist Y/n L/n is officially leaving her position. Now, she’s going from the pit lane to the ring as she’ll begin interviewing wrestlers in the WWE backstage on Monday nights. We wish her the best in WWE!

View all 40 comments

inchidentleclerc THIS POST ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK

↳ tsunodas inchidentleclerc LITERALLY I GOT SCARED THAT LEWIS AND Y/N BROKE UP

piastrioperator y/n it’s time to start a podcast challenge 😈

hamillion time to tell people that i’m not available on mondays (i’ll be tuning in to monday night raw just for her)

↳ chicperez hamillion as you should! it’s actually very entertaining to watch, and it has just gotten better recently. in my opinion, raw is the better show than smackdown 🤭

lewishamilton via instagram stories

yourusername

Liked by lewishamilton, rhearipley_wwe, yaonlylivonce, and 40,382 others

yourusername guess ???

View all 305 comments

lewishamilton The grid misses you 🥲

↳ yourusername lewishamilton I’ll be back soon love ☺️🫶

georgerussell ARE WE GOING TO SEE YOU ON THE PADDOCK AGAIN???

↳ yourusername georgerussell 👀

rhearipley_wwe Wearing my colors 💜

↳ yourusername rhearipley_wwe Of course 🤭

↳ user1 yourusername you really got good taste in people

f1wagsources I’m living for Y/n’s WWE era

user2 monday night mother is IN

user3 the wwe community should be lucky to have you

wwe and yourusername

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wwe uceyjucey is trying to holler at yourusername’s beloved boyfriend, lewishamilton 🤣🤣🤣

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mmysterios wwe and formula one was not a collab i was expecting

reignsgold first rhea now lewis, y/n got some competition with jey 😭

lewisroscoe welcome back queen y/n 💖

user1 i’m so excited to see more of y/n and jey

crosscody so nice to see y/n back on my tv

↳ vettelsfave crosscody ahhhh i know i’m loving her character in wwe so far, but i’m definitely going to miss her interviewing for f1

user2 rip y/n’s sky sports era, you would’ve loved to interview your mans in his ferrari attire

↳ rllns user2 NAH THIS ONE BROKE ME

user3 i love how the f1 fans are flooding the comments, y/n’s influence

ripleyschick i need her to interview me

→ TWITTER

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 Bitch Fight Ch.18 (Multi; JeLa) - Lita

Welcome to the world of Femme Fatale Wrestling. The future is female, and we’re here to prove it.

A/N: Heyyyyy….So, I’m still alive. Sorry about the nearly-a-year posting break, I changed jobs irl, got side tracked with an original fiction project, and have been generally super busy - but both I and this fic are very much still alive. I’m aware that it’s been a minute, so if anyone needs a refresher, the fic in its entirety can be found here. 

Anyway - this is the long-awaited Jinkx Chapter™ and the point at which the story (imo) reeeaaalllyyyy starts to get good. So I hope you all enjoy, and to those of you who are still here and sat through the nine month hiatus: Thank you <3

______

CHAPTER 18: YOU’VE STILL GOT IT

Dela had already left the house before Jinkx woke up. That was weird. Usually she didn’t leave to do anything without pestering her to get out of bed first. That did drive her a little insane - not that she’d ever say that out loud. Dela was trying. The fact that Jinkx hadn’t come with some kind of post-injury instruction manual made things difficult for the pair of them - she felt guilty about it. But acting on that guilt required effort that she didn’t have the capacity for. 

She’s been bizarrely cagey and quiet since the show on Saturday, honestly - reluctant to talk about work, distant, inside her own head. Jinkx wants to help, but the part of her that knows how to is miles away; trapped behind some impenetrable wall held in place by surgical screws. 

Regardless, Dela is god-knows-where, and Jinkx is alone, which she doesn’t deal well with. Being awake when she’s by herself is unpleasant - seconds drag on forever into minutes, and she feels agonizingly conscious of the time that she’s wasting. She’d set up camp in the living room, and more than likely wasn’t going to move until it was an acceptable time to go back to bed - coffee on the table, and Macho sitting on the couch a few feet away from her, stirring from his nap every few minutes to claw at the couch or glare at her like he wants her dead. The TV is on, but she isn’t exactly watching it. She scrolls through her texts, blankly waiting for Dela to respond to her and tell her what exactly she was doing, and trying her best to ignore the litany of unread messages from Bill. She’d deal with him later. 

‘Later’ was becoming an increasingly nebulous concept. She missed him, in a way - it was like he’d stopped caring when she got hurt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him face-to-face, and the text correspondence she got from him to report back from the events of shows tended to be curt and impersonal - a couple of words, nothing more. Well, he was busy. And he was serving his purpose, she guessed. She hoped. In all honesty, she wasn’t really sure. She felt guilty about that too. 

She feels like her body is constantly heavy; doing anything is difficult, in a way that she struggles to justify. On the days where she’s physically in pain, it makes sense at least. Or when she’s depressed - when something’s happened, when she’s actually struggling. She hates feeling like this - like a shell of a person, but without an excuse. On paper, she should be okay. 

She’s spent the bulk of the last year mentally torturing herself like this. Being angry with herself when she feels like shit, and equally angry when she doesn’t and yet still can’t bring herself to function. The promotion had become a real point of shame. A few months of absence felt understandable - but a fucking year? She knew that she was letting people down, and in some way or another she’s lulled herself into thinking that maybe they’re  better off without her. She didn’t have much faith left in her abilities as a promoter, or a booker - and if she couldn’t wrestle, then what was the point in her? She’d fucked up before. 

She didn’t know how she felt about Manila being back, even if it was just for a night. Her gut said she didn’t like it. 

That night barely held a coherent shape in Jinkx’s memory - the blood pooling on the mat, Raja’s seizure in the hallway, the unblinking terror on Manila’s face. Jinkx had gotten home from the emergency room at four in the morning, after spending all night picking up the pieces as best she could. She’d sat staring at the living room wall until the sun came up - still in her ring gear, blood that wasn’t hers drying in her cuticles, feeling like the walls were closing in around her. She recalled this horrible sense of foreboding overtaking her, like she knew that this was only the shitty start of something that was about to get much, much worse. 

Her last exchange with Manila had been awful - Manila had been angry with her, and she had every right to be. She’d been on her way out the door regardless, but that didn’t change how terrible Jinkx felt about the way it ended. The situation with Magnolia was an embarrassing, shitty mess. Going off-script like she had was a problem on its own, even without the state she’d left Raja in. And yet a month down the line, she’d still been under contract. 

Moreover, Magnolia had been holding the title - a position that Manila was furious about. She had made an absolute point of refusing to listen to any excuses Jinkx tried to give. They’d been flimsy at best - maybe it was a good thing that she’d been unable to get a word in edgeways. Anything she could have said would have been far too easy to poke holes in. 

Jinkx has been put in a shitty position; being strongarmed by her talent, apparently incapable of growing a backbone and doing the right thing. She didn’t have any concrete proof that what Magnolia had done to Raja was deliberate, and Magnolia had made it crystal fucking clear that if Jinkx fired her, pulled a screwjob, or interfered in any other way, she’d go straight to every dirt-sheet that would listen to her and drag both her and the promotion’s names through the mud. That had terrified Jinkx to her core. 

About five years ago, someone had put it together that the Jinkx Monsoon who now had tits and ran an all-women’s promotion was the same one who’d appeared as an acne-ridden sixteen-year old boy in an ancient TLC documentary about pro wrestling bootcamps. Maybe using the same ring name since she was a teenager had been a bad idea after all. There’d been a minor shitstorm on R/SquaredCircle - apparently it had been a slow news week, because then Pro Wrestling Insider ran a story about her. That had sent a few assholes in her direction but equally gave the promotion some free publicity. Then WWE had fired Jim Ross two days later, and everybody moved the fuck on. 

It hadn’t been a big deal - she couldn’t exactly be outed if she’d never been in the closet in the first place. Her being trans had always been something of an open secret. For fuck’s sake - she’d used ‘Dude Looks Like a Lady’ as entrance music for years, she’d never exactly been subtle. 

And then some mid-tier ex-WCW guy had started a Twitter rumor that she was lying about her gender identity, and she’d only founded FFW to enable her to perv on women. The allegation effectively ruined three months of her life. Some of the things she’d read about herself were downright fucking vile - they’d been forced to cancel two shows; she’d had to shut down all of her social media, and even then found herself getting death threats sent to her business email. Femme Fatale had been in its infancy, up and running for a little under three years, and it had nearly killed the entire promotion. 

She’d had an awful, terrifying gut feeling that it would only have taken one bit of crappy press to reignite that level of public hatred, towards both the promotion and her personally - crappy press that Magnolia was clearly more than happy to provide. If it came straight from the mouth of someone who’d worked with her, rather than unsubstantiated crap from some bastard she’d never met with too much time on his hands, then Jinkx would have been definitively screwed. She’d learned the hard way how fragile her standing was. The threat had gotten to her, in a really fucking horrible way. She wasn’t sure if that had been Magnolia’s intention, but it had definitely worked. 

So, she’d spent weeks handling the situation with kid gloves and waiting to see if a solution jumped out. It didn’t - and in the end, she’d fired her anyway, and lived to tell the tale. 

Not that there hadn’t been consequences. Bianca, Morgan, and Detox - the three people originally tasked with trying to get the belt off of her before Courtney eventually succeeded - had all threatened to quit; her relationship with Manila had been irrevocably damaged. Raja’s career was over, and Jinkx hadn’t been able to look Courtney in the eye for weeks after that fucking massacre of a match. She couldn’t unsee the blood trickling from her nose, or the missing front tooth. It only twisted the knife in further. 

Not to mention the guilt over feeling relieved that Magnolia had been stupid enough to shoot on someone twice. Maybe on some subliminal level, that had been her intention in letting the whole mess fester for as long as she did. Jinkx had known it would only be a matter of time before she tried it again. Firing someone over a botch wasn’t the done thing; deliberately injuring an opponent was entirely different. It was an easy out; one that didn’t put her neck on the line. 

But it was her failure that had gotten them there in the first place, and her price to pay to fix it - not anyone else’s. It should have been Jinkx in that match instead of Court. It should have been her blood on Magnolia’s hands - her tooth on the ring canvas. Her pound of flesh. 

Jinkx been reckless, and stupid. She’d endangered her talent by putting them in the ring with someone who had shown their capacity to be deliberately fucking evil, and for what? 

Every stupid mistake she’d made in that couple of months had been haunting her for the last two years. It was undeniable proof - she sucked at her job. She’d put people in harm’s way to save her own skin. And if that was how she’d been before everything had happened, she didn’t even want to think about all of the ways in which she’d probably fuck it up now. Back then, she wasn’t a miserable shell of her past self. She’d still had passion; she still cared. 

She glances over at the TV, trying her level best to fucking distract herself. UFC. The fight looks pretty bizarrely matched, a dark-haired beast of a woman with a shaved head getting the shit knocked out of her by some skinny kid with bright green hair. Buzzcut is bleeding all over the place; there’s barely a mark on Green Hair. Jinkx winces.  

MMA had never made a lick of sense to her; she’d been in her share of messy matches, but that damage was always superficial. Busting someone’s face open with your bare hands is a completely different ballgame, and it’s always made her feel a little bit sick to watch. Plus it just seemed boring - maybe that was the sports-entertainer in her. What’s the point of having a cage there if nobody is gonna jump off of it? Where the fuck was all of the pomp and circumstance? What she was getting here was glacially-paced punching and kicking - no flair, just blood-sport. 

Buzzcut takes a kick to the head and immediately hits the deck. Jinkx shuts the TV off. 

Legitimate knockouts scared the shit out of her. She hated watching them happen; hated thinking about what kind of state they left people’s brains in. Jinkx had suffered through two concussions in her career - one when she was a rookie; the second the night she broke her neck. Dela had had four. Every time it was terrifying, and thinking about it for too long kept her up at night. 

Watching Dela get hurt had been a kind of pain that Jinkx hadn’t been fully prepared for. Every time anything happened, she found herself wracked with a sense of sickening guilt for being the one that led her down this path in the first place. The night she’d come home after the hardcore match with Morgan - broken nose, swollen lips, tears cutting streaks through the dried blood all over her face - Jinkx had barely been able to look at her. 

Jinkx had been in the ring with Dela the night she broke her leg - she’d watched it happen, horribly aware of exactly how bad it was, but glued to the spot, unable to do anything. Everything about it - the sound of snapping bone; the twisted, terrified look on her face as Bill trying to cinch in that stupid fucking ankle-lock - had haunted her for weeks. The sound of her voice was what had cut her the deepest; the pain and the panic behind her words, thumping the mat with the palm of her hand, screaming ‘I quit, I quit’ over and over. 

Jinkx hadn’t spoken to Bill for almost a month after that. Dela had been the one to insist that they patched things up - she was okay, it had been an accident, he didn’t realize. Given that she’d been the one that had to go through three hours of surgery and six months of recovery because of his stupidity, she’d been the authority. Jinkx had been furious; after watching him treat Dela like an inconvenience at best and a personal affront to him at worst for as long as they’d been together, her patience for his shit had worn thin. 

Bill and Jinkx had turned up at the same run-down training school for the first time on the same night, and had been joined at the hip for about four years as perennially single high-schoolers. He was a little abrasive, and had a tendency to talk over her - but underneath it all, Jinkx had sensed a kind of insecurity in him, veiled by this performative, hypermasc bravado. He’d clung onto her from the moment that they met and refused to let go. She didn’t mind - he’d never cared about the fact that she was a little weird, and he didn’t make her feel like an outcast the same way that other guys did back then. 

He’d been the person responsible for the chip in her front tooth; a slightly overenthusiastic superkick during their first match in front of a crowd had taken a diagonal chunk out of it, which she’d then proceeded to accidentally swallow. She’d refused to get it fixed - in the first instance because she hadn’t had the money, then later because her response to Bill ribbing her for her fucked-up smile had always been to remind him that it was only like that because he was a shitty wrestler. It was a part of their personal history. 

Bill and Dela had never exactly gotten along. Well, Bill had never exactly gotten along with Dela, and had never tried to. He’d never really learned how to share Jinkx - he got jealous and clingy in the locker room when she tried to talk to other people for god’s sake. Dela gatecrashing their little bromance had seriously rubbed him the wrong way.

Dela hadn’t been a wrestler when they first met - a recent college graduate, she’d worked in the bar that Jinkx and the other guys frequented after shows, since the staff seldom kicked them out for being too rowdy. They’d both crushed on her for weeks, from afar - Jinkx had been the first one of the two of them to make a move, and it was like Bill resented Dela for picking the wrong guy. Not that he’d ever said that out loud; not that he’d even really tried to pursue her. She’d just been supposed to telepathically know that he’d wanted her too - he was the better man, or rather the only one that succeeded at being a man. It was like he hadn’t even viewed Jinkx as competition. 

Once he got to know her, besides thinking she was hot, he couldn’t stand her, or at least he claimed he couldn’t. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard; she was too fake, too immature. Before she became a wrestler herself, she didn’t understand ‘their’ world - he called her a ring-rat more often than he used her actual name - but when she started, she sucked at it and wasn’t trying hard enough. She was pretty much incapable of doing anything right. For fuck’s sake, he even hated the fact that she didn’t argue back when he tried to start shit with her. It had always driven Jinkx quietly insane, but Dela insisted that she didn’t mind. 

Jinkx feels bad for Dela more than anyone through all of this shit. She tried - she fucking tried, so hard. With everything; with him, with the promotion, with her. Jinkx still felt just as consumed by that incredible, overwhelming love for her as she had back when they first got together, and that made the guilt and the pain so much worse. Dela was suffering because of her - she could see it. Knowing how much of a horrific, draining burden she’s become on everyone she cares about disgusts her. 

Five-percent survival rate. That sentence had haunted her since she got injured. Why did she get to be one of that five percent? It doesn’t feel fair. Better people have fucking died because of the same shit, and the ones that lived didn’t waste the time they’d stolen by rotting away in their own misery and self-pity. 

Jinkx’s phone starts vibrating in her hand, jolting her back into the real world. The name on the caller ID makes her stomach drop. MANILA LUZON. 

 “Manila? What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Manila’s voice on the other end of the line is clipped and guarded. Jinkx feels uneasy. “Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase - Mateo got a developmental deal with WWE, so it’s looking pretty likely that we’re gonna be moving back sometime soon. I need somewhere to work, and I-“

“That’s kind of not my area anymore. Dela said you were at the show on Saturday, did you talk to Bill?” Jinkx says. Her voice feels like an answering machine; verbally shitting out the exact same thing she has to tell Dela, or any of the girls, when they try to come to her about shit, without any kind of conscious thought. Talk to him, I can’t deal with this right now

“No, I didn’t - why the fuck would I? I’m not asking a referee about a new contract deal. It’s your promotion,” Manila’s tone spikes. 

“It is, but-“

“Jinkx, come on.” Jinkx can practically hear Manila rolling her eyes. “I didn’t see you around once the other night. What the fuck is going on?” 

“What?” Jinkx says absently, barely paying attention. She doesn’t want to deal with this right now. Manila had always been spectacularly talented at being a bitch when the situation necessitated it, even before the whole horrific mess with Raja. That had just honed her ability to focus said talent in Jinkx’s direction. 

“You were at the show, right?”

“No,” Jinkx says flatly. 

“What the- why?” Manila sounds astonished. Did she really not know? How the fuck did she not know?  

“I’m retired, Manila,” Jinkx feels like she’s stating the obvious. Manila pauses for a second. Jinkx hears her swallow. 

“As of when?”

“I…Shit happened last year,” she doesn’t feel like explaining herself right now. Manila doesn’t respond, leaving a pause in the conversation that begs for an explanation. Jinkx grits her teeth. “Botched piledriver - I broke my neck, triple fusion surgery, whole career down the toilet in five minutes.” 

“And how is that stopping you from being backstage?” Manila asks pointedly, moving straight along from what Jinkx had just said without any kind of feeling. Jinkx feels like she’s smacking her head against a brick wall. She stays silent. “I’m serious, Jinkx. It’s a mess - how did you let things get this bad?”  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I told you that you had a goddamn laundry list of issues to work out two years ago when I left. It’s bad enough that you let Magnolia stick around after what she did to Raja - it’s bad enough that you let her keep the belt. I’d thought things would have improved by now, and somehow they’re worse.”

“You’re still mad about that?” Jinkx groans, exasperated. She wasn’t about to give away the fact that she herself wasn’t even remotely over it yet - the only person who didn’t seem to be holding onto any resentment or guilt over the whole thing was Raja. Though that was probably because she didn’t remember most of it. 

“Raja nearly died, and you let the person responsible get away with it - I care about her, of course I’m still fucking mad. You can’t do that to somebody.” 

“How the hell are you guys still not fucking?” Jinkx mutters under her breath. She really hopes Manila hadn’t heard her - that would do less than nothing to help her case. 

“You know that Courtney went off-script on Bianca, and that Adore kid, right?” Manila asks, sharp and confrontational. 

“I- what?” Jinkx sits up - pretty certain that she’d misheard something. “What the fuck did she do?” 

“Ran in during their match - she hit Bea with a chair, slapped Adore around a bit, then demanded a title match. Dela and Bianca tried to convince me it was a work, but it was super obvious.”  

“Manila, I- look, are you sure? Like, this was definitely Courtney?” 

“I’m not stupid, Jinkx.”

“I never said you were, but Courtney’s the champ. Why would she need to-”

“Uh, no she’s not,” Manila says disbelievingly. She pauses for a second. “Jinkx, do you seriously not know who your world champion is?” 

“I thought I did - there was a bit of a hiccup a few weeks ago, Adore botched the finish and accidentally won the belt, but Courtney got it back.” Jinkx pauses. Someone isn’t telling her something. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m fucking serious. This is ridiculous, Jinkx. You’re in charge, and you can’t let any of this crap fly. You can’t let people run around shooting on each other, you can’t not pay attention to what’s going on in your own company.” 

Jinkx nods along with her. She’s fucking right, and she’s the only person around Jinkx right now who can’t see the ‘HANDLE WITH CARE’ sticker that’s been plastered on her forehead for the last year. Slowly, quietly, she feels that heavy lead ball of depression she’s been carrying around within her chest for the last year starting to crack.  

“You need to get your information from someone who wasn’t just there for a night. All I’m saying is I’m looking to re-sign, and I’m there if you want me - but not if something doesn’t change,” Manila sighs. “I know how much all of this means to you, and I don’t wanna see it fail, but this is not the promotion I left two years ago. Half of the locker room is gone - the audience is barely there. You need to fucking do something.”

“You’re right,” Jinkx says. She chews the new information over in her mind; still reeling from the well-timed sucker punch to the jaw that Manila had just landed on her from miles away. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I’m gonna get this shit in hand. Give me a call once you’re back home and we can talk about you re-signing. I mean, if you decide that things are up to your standards.”

There’s a little hint of the old bite in her voice. Hi, Jinkx Monsoon - nice to see you. It’s been a while. 

Manila gives a surprised little laugh. 

“Okay,” she sounds taken aback, before adopting that serious, stern mom-tone she’s been using for the rest of the conversation. “But seriously though, figure-“

“You’re laboring the point,” Jinkx says. “Thank you - clearly I needed someone to kick me up the ass.”  

Manila chuckles. 

“Look, I have to go - I’m in a fucking bathroom stall at Epcot, Mateo is with the kids, but I couldn’t stop thinking about everything, and I had to talk to you,” Manila says. “I appreciate it. And I’m sorry about everything that happened to you. It sounds like it sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.”

Manila ends the call. Jinkx stares at her phone screen, a wry smile on her face. More cracks start to form. She’s not sure what this emotion is, whether it’s good or bad - but she’s gonna ride it out and see where it goes. That sea of unopened texts from Bill catches her attention. 

BILL SCARGILL:

UNREAD (14) 

Rematch sucked. One with the red hair keeping title. Courtney can’t fucking wrestle 

D throwing bitch fit about decision. Tell her to get her shit together. 

SERIOUSLY. Get your wife in check 

Jinkx??? 

Adore feuding with Bianca. Rest of show sucked - where tf did you find those jobbers?? Trinity Fame and the other blonde one can’t wrestle. Time to downsize?? 

Had to talk to Courtney about her attitude btw. Entitled as fuck. None of these girls have any respect for authority. 

Show was fine. Good crowd. Courtney no showed btw 

Courtney no showed again. 

Don’t know what’s going on with her and don’t care. Unreliable bs. No professionalism. 

If she doesn’t turn up tonight she’s fired. If you don’t answer this I’m assuming you don’t give a fuck. 

Call me ASAP 

Jinkx 

Jinkx?????

CALL ME 

That horrible, heavy ball in her chest explodes.  

She needs to talk to Bill. Wait, shit - no, she needs to talk to Dela. Find out what’s really going on, because the picture that this is painting from texts and Manila’s account alone isn’t fucking pretty. She can feel long-unused gears within her brain slowly, stiffly grinding into action again; powered primarily by the white-hot anger that’s sitting between her lungs where the bomb just detonated.  

Now that she truly thinks about it, Jinkx can’t say with absolute certainty how Bill ended up in the position of ludicrous roided-up power he’s currently in. Only that, when she eventually awoke from the walking coma of memory loss and painkillers her injury had sent her into, that was just the way of things. And then the depression had kicked in, and so too had her lack of desire to do anything. Dela had seemed to go along with it sans protest, but she’d been going along with his shit sans protest for years - that wasn’t an indicator that he was any fucking good at what he was doing. 

She pulls out her laptop, typing out a frenzied plan of action, trying to curate some of the mess in her head into something usable. Talk to Dela. Figure out what the fuck his problem is. And for how long it’s been a fucking problem. And then…

“Everything okay?” 

Dela’s voice breaks through the silence - she’s standing in the doorway in her gym gear, bag over her shoulder and stray hairs stuck to her brow with sweat. Her phone is in her hand, and she looks shaken. Macho barrels across the couch, using Jinkx’s chest as a launch-pad to greet his favorite mom at the door, mewing with his tail in the air until Dela picks him up.  

“I- uh…what?” Jinkx stumbles over her words after she gets done choking on the lungful of air that Macho had knocked out of her. She half-closes her laptop, putting it down on the coffee table. 

“I asked if you were okay,” Dela sits down on the couch by Jinkx’s side, putting a hand on her thigh as she cradles Macho like a baby. There’s a concerned little knot in between her eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” Jinkx nods solidly. Dela pulls a face that Jinkx can only describe as alarmed. “Are you?”

“Uh - not really, it’s a long story, I won’t bother you with-”“Please bother me with it.” Jinkx claps Dela’s hand in both of hers. Dela laughs nervously. 

“Well, I just narrowly avoided getting murdered by Bianca in the parking lot of the gym for one thing - I’ve never seen her that pissed, it was fucking terrifying. I’m…” she pauses. “Courtney got fired. Supposedly on your orders, which obviously isn’t true but it’s still…” Jinkx clenches her teeth. Dela sets Macho back down on the couch, turning to face Jinkx. “What is going on with you? You seem really…” Dela searches for a word, which Jinkx can only imagine is ‘insane’. She eventually settles on: “…Energised.”

“I, uh…I just got off the phone with Manila. Between everything she told me and now this, I need to take care of some business. The next show is this Saturday, right?”  

 There’s an unfamiliar kind of certainty to Jinkx’s voice. Dela looks at her with her eyes alight; her mouth hanging just open in surprise. 

And then, Jinkx is returning to Femme Fatale. 

Pride Challenge Points: 3589

[kentoxo]

can we have a gojo fic where his best friend is a girl, with a gung-ho personality, and she challenges him and makes him feel alive.

They kept their feelings for each other hidden so well for 10 years of their friendship since highschool.

a year of them not speaking, their friendship dissolved into nothing after a petty argument.

So when Satoru sees her walking in the bubbly way she always did at their highschool reunion, he pounces at her.

smutty, angsty, a bit heartwarming. have fun

OOO I like this! 100% gojo's kind of woman and honestly inspiration for his crackhead energy. Thank you anon for this req!

pairing: reader (f) x bestfriend!Gojo

synopsis: Gojo never imagined he'd ever see you again. You were the catalyst of his refined, carefree spirit. He yearned for you. And little did he know that you did for him as well.

warning: rated m for making out, fingering, eating out

a/n: I've been beside myself regarding whether I want this in the normal jjk world or a slice of life au. i think normal for more writing freedom

The first time Satoru Gojo saw you, it was during class intermission. Your high school was very kind and gave you all the teenager-equivalent to recess. They gave you the option to either hang out in the library, hit the gym, or lounge outside the back of the school.

Satoru was a simple teen, always choosing to go outside just to enjoy fresh hour for the hour you all had. He would sit right under the large willow tree at the backyard of the school, finding peace in the dancing of its branches and the shade it provided. But, it was routinely disturbed by Suguru Geto.

"Did you hear?" Suguru's steps lightly crunched the grass as he joined Satoru under the tree. Satoru had his eyes closed with his hands folded on his lap, embracing the final warmth of the summer before autumn truly took over. "Satoru?"

"I heard you," the white-haired wonder murmurs, "hear 'bout what?"

"The new girl that just transferred in," Suguru informs. Satoru didn't care much for rumormongering, but it was nice to have Suguru as a consistent informant on what goes on in their class. "Todays the first day, and she went ahead and challenged the leader of the wrestling team."

That's different. "Is that so," Satoru replies nonchalantly, his eyes still completely shut. "What a strange girl."

"She's quirky, but very beautiful," Suguru adds. "But she must be out of her mind to challenge a guy like that."

Satoru adjusts himself, crossing his arms behind his head. "If that's what she likes," Satoru couldn't care less. Suguru doesn't respond, and the two stay silent for a moment. But the silence was quickly interrupted when a crowd of students came out of the school, cheering and chanting emanating from them. "Hm?"

"I believe they're here for the fight," Suguru assumes. He scratches the back of his head, his forearm throwing his long, black hair to the side. "I'm guessing they're gonna wrestle in the sand pit there."

Satoru allowed one eye open to see the commotion. A crowd surfed through the backyard, with two students leading the pack. The first was a particularly muscly student, which could be safely assumed is the wrestling leader. But the next student beside him was you.

Suguru wasn't lying when he said you were quirky. No girl in their right mind would want to wrestle a guy with that stature. But he definitely wasn't lying when he said you were beautiful, too. The uniform hugged your body a little too well, but it was truly your face that caused Satoru to open both of his eyes.

Your expression was fierce with a shit-eating smile that Satoru couldn't help but become entranced with.

You radiated a sort of confidence that Satoru's never seen before. It could be due in part of the fact that Satoru wasn't a very social person. Despite being popular among your classmates, Suguru was the only friend he cared to have around.

The two friends watched, with Satoru being surprised at how eager he suddenly was. He leaned forward, his eyes glued at the sand pit where you and the boy stood, preparing for your tussle.

With another student as a mediator/referee, you listened closely to the rules and nodded. You smirked at your challenger, your heart practically tightening in excitement. "A clean fight, okay?" The referee repeats. "We don't want a teacher coming out and suspend us all."

Everyone laughed at the joke. "Lets get on with it, yeah?" Your opponent spewed. He was not amused one bit, considering his serious expression. "I don't like hurting girls."

You waive his concern, "don't worry, you won't."

He locked eyes with you, a glimmer of skepticism in his own. The referee stood between the two of you in the pit, his hand in the air to begin his count down. "3...2...1... Fight!" He shot his hand down and quickly escaped the sand pit.

The whole fight was a blur, but Satoru's jaw was on the floor when he witnessed the leader of the wrestling team on the ground, struggling to escape under your body. You had a toothy grin, your uniform completely scuffed with sand scratches ornate on your arms and legs.

Since that day, Satoru wanted to be known by you. You remember the boy coming up to you, his cheeks peachy and hands clammy when he introduced himself to you. Unlike all the other boys who found you intimidating, Satoru found you alluring. So, you pulled him into your own world.

"y/n, are you fucking insane?" Satoru's voice was shaky, nervous, all while still stable. The two of you stood on top of one of the biggest buildings in Japan. You have a knack for trespassing, and Satoru reluctantly followed your every move. Up until now, of course.

"Just a bit!" You glowed. You climbed up the abandoned crane on top of the building, your rough hands finding path in the bars and random equivalents of grips. "What's wrong, Satoru? You scarwed?" You teased with a baby voice.

You could see a teenage Satoru try to keep his cool, but quietly huffing and puffing when he thought you weren't looking. "it's dangerous, y/n," Satoru sounded distant behind you, his face going pale from how high you were at this point.

"It is dangerous, that's right," you yell back, your hands now gray from the accumulated dirt and dust. "But you'll never find excitement like this anywhere."

"Excitement or intense fear?" Satoru replied, his voice becoming a little louder. "I don't want anything to happen to you, y/n! Seriously!"

"Then come up here and guarantee it!" You muse. You make it to a comfortable spot to sit, turning around to look down at him. You felt the adrenaline bring you to the high you were seeking. You hands were rough and dirty, but your body felt strong and your heart was eager. You look down at the dashing boy below, "come keep me safe!"

"y/n, are you serious?" Satoru yells in dread. You nod aggressively with a wide smile. The tall boy stands there, his eyes distant with thought. You were humored from his trivial expression, his uncertainty fighting with his desire to live like you.

But you watched the nervous boy begin his trek towards you, his eyes never daring leaving the sky. You bounced joyously at his newfound bravery, causing him to emit nervous chuckles. Veins protrude his inner forearms, his breathing heavy from the effort and caution of his body. Once he was close enough, you happily offer your hand. His blue orbs held reticence, but your smile reassured him. His clammy hand meets yours, as you pull him up to the space beside you.

He creates a strong grip onto the crane, his fingers digging into the rusted metal. "are you happy?" Satoru murmurs.

"Aren't you?" You gush, nudging his shoulder gently. "Look over there." You point over at the city, and the clouds ornate between the buildings. The sun was setting, so the shadows of the skyscrapers were defined.

With a nervous gulp, Satoru looked down at the city, his bottom lip hung in awe. You watched as his nerves fade, and his hidden adrenaline finally coming forward. There was a shine in his eyes, and the way his white wisps of hair danced in the wind. A small smile pulled at the edges of his lips, and you swore to never forget the day that Satoru Gojo started his life.

Anyone with eyes could tell you that the two of you were meant to be together. A friendship transcending high school, the two of you were practically inseparable. Satoru would go find you during your work lunches, always swearing that he always gets a BOGO when in reality, he would buy you a separate lunch, opposite of the things he prefers to eat.

He was your adventure buddy, always down to follow your lead. Hiking the craziest mountains, parkouring on rooftops that you two were not meant to be at. He always had your back during paintball battles, your body rough but never shot out due to his diligent protection.

But the both of you were blind to one another's affection. The way Satoru grabs your hand whenever you two entered large crowds so he'd never lose you. The way you would fix Satoru's hair after every adventure, taking out the knots that has accrued, despite his grunts and groans. There are moments were he would just rub your hands, feeling the callouses collected since your younger years.

And you watched him grow, his confidence uncontainable. The quiet boy from high school was now a man full of vigor and ambition. Satoru has taken to exercise, his body beyond prepared for your adventures together. You couldn't help but stare at his muscles, the way his calves pulsated whenever he was reaching something high in the cabinets of your kitchen. Or the way his biceps flexed when carrying your groceries for you to the car. You could stare at him forever if you could.

Of course, until the day you couldn't stand to look at him.

"You can't be serious," you spat quietly. "When has there ever been a time where I've asked someone else before you?"

"Don't start," Satoru hums, "I asked her because someone said they'd be going on a work trip that weekend." He was sat on your couch, book in hand as you were fixing up the kitchen a bit.

You hung your head forward slightly, "and? You could still ask, 'Toru."

"If I asked you, you'd refuse to go on your work trip and just come with me to this skiing trip." This would be the very first time that Satoru goes on a fun trip like this without you. And he knows better than to ask anyone else.

"I'm an adult Satoru, I can make my own decisions," you hiss, "but instead, you've taken it upon yourself to decide for me." You begin to angrily organize your kitchen counter.

"Because I know how you are, y/n," Satoru begins, his soft tone begin to ramp up. "You'll want to go regardless of your work obligations. I'm sorry, but I can't let you be so careless."

"So why go without me anyways?" You ask, a bit of hurt in your words. "We go on these trips together, always. Why can't we then just coordinate this trip another time?"

Satoru closed his book and looked over at you, "the northern lights can be seen from Mt. Fuji this year. As much as I'd love to see them with you, you need to be more responsible and work. In turn, I don't want to miss this chance because you don't want me to go without you. It's a bit selfish, no?"

"Selfish?" The word left your tongue in distaste. "Me? You wouldn't have even wanted to do this if it weren't for me!"

"Quite bold of you for taking all the credit," Satoru lashes, his sunglasses sliding down to the tip of his nose. "I was eventually going to break from my shell-- you just kickstarted it early."

You eyes widen, narrowing down in appall from Satoru's words. The man that you watched grow up, that you helped grow up, was reducing your influence to a 'kickstart.' All of the solace that emanated from Satoru Gojo began to evaporate. "Leave," you muttered painfully.

This caught his attention, and Satoru took off his glasses. Blue eyes analyze your hurt expression, his eyes uncertain and almost... in disbelief? "y/n, you're being so dramatic. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

"To you, sure," you look away from him. You could feel your cheeks warm from the coming of tears. "Just leave, Satoru."

Satoru didn't hesitate, and rose from your couch, "you're being serious?" You don't look his way at all. Rolling his eyes, Satoru begins to grab his book and phone. "Whatever. So sorry for trying to be a good friend."

"Fuck off, Satoru," you spat.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fucking off," Satoru doesn't even hug you goodbye before he slams the door behind him. Neither of you realize it then, but that would be the last time you two saw each other, and exchanged words. Both of your prides did enough damage to eviscerate a friendship that you have loved for a long time. You cried that whole night, and the many weeks that followed.

"Shoko, is my dress okay?" You shyly pull down at the incredibly short red-dress you decided to model. Although it hugged you kindly (a little too much), it stopped just right under your ass. "I feel like if I bend over, I'll show everyone Earth's second moon."

Shoko, in a navy blue tube dress, chuckles between her cigarette pulls, "you look extremely sexy, if that's what you're asking."

"It isn't too much for this reunion?" You ignored her compliment.

Shoko shakes her head, "it's perfect."

Unknowingly to you, Satoru was already inside. His toned body was enhanced by a skin-tight, black turtleneck and black dress pants. His hair grew just a bit, tying it up in a ponytail as it would only make his tangling situation worse. He had red shades on, and a smile that could light up the universe. With a martini in hand, he was sharing laughs with all of your classmates from ages ago.

As he goes to take another swig of his drink, he almost chokes from the sight of you entering the school gym.

You entered in, no hint of shyness anywhere, despite your skimpy outfit. Many of your classmates were in awe, as the whole gym turned their attention to you. With infectious energy, you rush over with open arms to see the people you used to study with. His eyes drowned at the sight of you, your bubbly cheeks, your warm embraces to everyone who met your gaze. Even your laugh came back to his head, repeating itself like a metronome.

Satoru downs his drink, and makes his way towards you. Alcohol, combined with adrenaline, made Satoru move faster than he ever has. So swiftly, you even felt the breeze before his presence was known to you. Your eyes widen at the tall man with the white, wispy hair. His shadow, along with his gaze, swallows you whole.

You two could only stare at one another, having been a year since you've shared the same space. His hair, you thought. He was a little taller, his jaw slightly sharper. He smelled of cinnamon and hinoki wood. But his eyes... they didn't look quite like you remembered. They were dark and hollow. They appeared, in a word, empty.

Before you could begin the conversation, Satoru pulls you into his arms. A calmness washes over you, your tense body letting go. He held you just a bit tight, feeling as though your soul could fuse with his at any moment. He's so warm, you swooned in thought. Leaning down to your ear, he pulls a strand of your hair back and whispers, "can we talk somewhere?"

You silently nod, allowing for Satoru to hold you by your hand and guide you from the gym. You knew all eyes were on the both of you, considering that you two hadn't spoken for a year since your fall out. You didn't know what to expect, but you followed him obediently into one of the classrooms, a little far from the gym. He ushers you in, turning on the lights before pulling down the blinds of the classroom door window. The official windows of the classrooms were already shut, leaving the both of you completely isolated.

You slowly walk over to your old desk, remembering it was yours from the distinct, scratched in lily that was clearly never fixed. You turn around and take a seat on top of the desk, looking up and waiting for Satoru. But Satoru could only stare at you from a distance, unable to accept that you were here in front of him.

"Um," your voice sounds quietly, "long time no see, Sato--" before you could even finish, Satoru aggressively pushes the desks you carefully walked around and found his way to you. He grabs your cheeks in his large, rough hands and brings your face to his own. Lips collided, your nails digging frantically into the under of your desk. "mm--!"

An eager tongue slides between your lips, the taste of dry alcohol and lime intoxicating your own. He kissed you feverishly, his lips delicately chapped in the center. He closed the gap between the two of you, his toned abs pressing against your breasts. You then abandon the desk, ands latching themselves to the back of his shirt.

"'toru,--" you try between kisses and breaths, but Satoru was hungry. The way his tongue lapped around yours, the gentle pulls of your bottom lip between his teeth. Your hands snake to his firm chest, gently pushing him away without seeming disinterested. You look at him, trying to read his expression.

He was panting, but for the first time in your life, he was blushing. The empty eyes that briefly scared you were now lit up, just the way you remembered. His lips shined with your saliva, slightly agape to catch increments of air. "y/n," Satoru whispers.

"Satoru," you say with a firmer tone. You bring a hand up, fingers lightly rubbing your recently conquered lips. But his eyes wouldn't leave your gaze, causing your heart to lead a stampede. You realized you weren't ready to talk just yet. You pulled his shirt and brought him back to you, his face following suit, with lips rejoicing.

Satoru's hand curiously dragged its fingertips down your dress, finding its way to your thigh. He pauses, eyes opening to meet yours. Silent consent. You give yourself a few moments before nodding, allowing him to continue.

Butterflies delightfully tormented your stomach, as long, lanky fingers separate your thighs. They were cold, but your skin warmed them up as he found his way to your flower. You could feel his moans against your lips, his fingers curiously making its way between your homely folds. You perk up when your precum primes his fingers towards your cunt. They delicately filled you, three fingers finding solace in your warm, wet walls.

His lips leave yours, allowing for your moans and curses to escape. "ah--ah, s-satoru...!" His eyes widen at your sensual sounds. His breath hitched at the sound of his name from your mouth, your voice. This fueled Satoru, as he begins to finger fuck you more aggressively. The sound of your cum pierced the room as his fingers filled you up, and pulled out every other second. Your hands grip desperately at the hem of his shirt while you buried your face between his pecs.

"say my name again," Satoru demands in a whisper. "i've missed your voice so much, y/n. please, please keep saying it."

You blush, your eyes focused on the ever-growing bulge in his hands. It was just inches away from you, your mouth salivating at the thought of him. "s-satoru, satoru, f-fuck...!" He curled his fingers inside you, teasing your g-spot while also keeping the quick, steady pace of fucking your cunt. Your ears were heating up, your hands tightening their grip. "i'm... i'm...!" you could barely get your words out.

But Satoru knew exactly what you meant, a sinister smile playing at his lips. "perfect," he murmurs, completely removing his hand from your spot. You let out a disappointing sigh, but it is quickly waived when he suddenly holds your thighs, pulls your forward, and has your back on the desk. You look down, only for your head to writhe back in pleasure.

Pulling your panties down to your ankles, Satoru's lips introduce themselves to your pussy, his tongue lapping your folds. You could feel him dragging his tongue up to your clit, the tip circling around the sensitive bud. Your body writhes, with your hands desperately clinging onto his white wisps. His relentless sucking, hot breaths, and sporadic tongue work your pussy into an orgasm, your entire body tense and twitching.

Heavy breathes decorate the room, as Satoru takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you. Your cheeks were a plum hue, but Satoru's face was completely beet red. You could feel his gaze on you as you got on your feet (weakly) and fix yourself up. He quickly gets on his knees, and pulls up your panties for you.

"Thank you very much," you quietly croak between breaths. But you noticed him not rising, with his head hung low. "Satoru? You can stand up no--"

"Y/N, I was wrong." His sharp admittance made you bite your tongue. You look down at him, unsure what to do. "I should have asked you first if you wanted to come with me. I should have never decided for you."

"Ah, Satoru, please--"

"No, I was wrong, and I regret it so, so much," his voice was shaky. "You didn't just kickstart it-- you were the reason that I needed to come out of my shell. And really, you were the reason why coming out of my shell was worth it."

You bring your hand down to his head, which makes him lower his head a bit more. "Satoru, take it easy, please..."

"I didn't enjoy myself at all-- I couldn't!" He exclaimed. "You bring me to life, and I didn't realize it until I saw those lights and didn't feel what I thought I would feel. The feeling I expected, I now realize, was because it was you I wanted to share that experience with."

You smile down at him, giggling to yourself a bit. "We were both wrong," you cooed. "Now please stand up. I don't want this to become a crying fest after you just ate me out."

Satoru looks up at you with watery eyes and a sheepish smile. His lips were still shining from your cum, and you couldn't help but get redder. As he got up and dusted his knees, he looked over at you with a smirk, "aren't you going to explain why you were also wrong?"

You looked up pensively before shaking your head, "nope!"

"Of course not," Satoru chuckles, his hands snaking around your waist, "now come here."