#emotions were high af

[manjiroscum]

LITTLE DARK AGE

haitani ran x fem!reader x haitani rindou

summary: eight years later, you finally return to tokyo and find yourself caught in the middle of a violent gang war between the two most ruthless criminal organizations of tokyo’s underworld, forced to choose between blood and love.

genre: bonten timeskip, angst, forbidden romance, childhood friends -> strangers -> lovers, 18+ MDNI

warnings: fem!reader, gang violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, explicit smut, polyamory, profanity, MCD, unedited, MTBA

previous chapter -> masterlist -> next chapter

CHAPTER ⅩⅢ. AND WHEN THE SEASONS CHANGE, WILL YOU STAND BY ME?

TEN YEARS EARLIER. 

There was something wrong with you. 

Both of them knew it. Something had changed in you after that day at the delinquent center. Something had changed in all of them, really, losing Izana was just a blow that none of them were prepared to take. But Rindou had prayed, he had prayed and prayed and prayed that the change was temporary, that everyone would bounce back. 

And most of them did, to some extent. 

Except you.

He should have known better. He really should have. You might not have known Izana as long as the rest of them had but the two of you had clicked in a way that Rindou had never really seen you click with anyone before. Not even them. All those days and nights spent in the music room, the way the two of you would bounce ideas off of each other all the time, planning out your future, their future…

You had never dealt with loss well. He had known that since you were kids, when they had met you a little while after your family had been killed in an accident. You had always tried your best to pretend that you were fine but they knew you weren’t. Just like they knew now, even if you wouldn’t admit it. 

And Rindou was worried. He was so fucking worried and he did not know what to do. This wasn’t like the last time you had distanced yourself from them, when you had gotten aggressive, and angry, and upset. This time was different. Because you weren’t aggressive, or angry, and you didn’t even seem to be upset even though Rindou knew you well enough to know that you were. 

You were cold. Aloof. While last time you would have started yelling at them for bothering you and constantly trying to convince you to do things with them, this time you just brushed them off--you were tired, you were busy with meetings, you needed to eat, you had to talk to your uncle about plans for the future. 

Rindou couldn’t remember the last time you had hung out with them. He missed the late night movies, he missed waking up Ran with you and forcing him to join the two of you, he missed  you. 

He didn’t want to linger on the thought, instead shaking his head and tilting his head up, letting his gaze drift up to the sky above Izanagi Headquarters. 

It was going to start raining, it was dark, and the clouds were moving fast--too fast. Rindou let out a breath as he looked back over at Ran, who was still sitting back on his bike, hands pressed against the seat as he stared up at the building you were in.

They had come to try to talk to you--knowing that once you got back home you’d lock yourself in your room and either work on some more stuff for your uncle or pass right out and they’d lose their chance. 

Rindou opened his mouth, preparing to tell Ran that they should head home unless they wanna get caught in the rain. 

He didn’t get the chance. 

“You should go in there,” Ran’s voice was quiet. There was a tone that Rindou couldn’t quite decipher. Rindou looked over his shoulder, lips turned down and hair falling in his face as he eyed Ran. Ran did not meet his eyes. “She needs you, Rindou. I don’t know why she’s pushing us away like this but I-we can’t just let her do this to herself.”

“She needs both of us, Ran, that’s why we’re here,” Rindou’s voice was dismissive. He didn’t understand what Ran was trying to get at, and he didn’t understand why Ran wouldn’t meet his eyes. Obviously you needed them, that was why they were camped out across the street from Izanagi’s godforsaken headquarters. 

“Ran,” Rindou called for his brother again. Ran ignored him, again, only staring up to the top of Izanagi headquarters, lips tugged down into a slight frown, a strange look in his eyes, “She needs both of us.”

“Not in the same way.”

Rindou fully turned around, head snapping toward Ran, eyes wide, confusion brewing in his stomach as he mulled over what Ran had said.

Not in the same way?

“The fuck does that mean?” Rindou demanded. Ran looked away. “Hey, I asked you a question.”

Ran did not answer.

But he didn’t need to. Because Rindou knew exactly what he meant, and he did not know how to take it. 

Unconsciously, he looked back toward the building that he knew you were in, a tight feeling in his chest. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about it before. Rindou let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding shut for just a second. God, he had thought about it so much. Ever since you guys were younger--since that night at the Sugawara estate, really--all the nights that he had spent up with you, watching those dumb horror movies you loved that he hated, he always imagined how you would feel whenever you were curled up at his side, body pressed against his, the number of times he had debated on reaching out, pressing his lips to yours, it was uncountable really; and all the days he would spend wandering around Roppongi with you, unable to draw his eyes from your bright smile and lit up eyes, he imagined what it would be like taking you out on dates instead of just going out as friends, holding your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours.

“You know what it means,” Ran said, and Rindou forced himself to open his eyes and look back at Ran, lips parting to speak but he hesitated when he caught sight of Ran’s face. There was an expression on it that Rindou had never seen before--one that Ran was clearly trying to hide from his brother but hiding stuff from Rindou was nearly impossible. They knew each other too well for that. 

Lips pressed tight and the corners drawn downwards, eyebrows lowered, eyes dull. 

… He didn’t want this. 

Or maybe he did on the surface, but deep down he did not. Rindou’s chest felt tight, he tried to push away the sick feeling that rose to his stomach, the tight feeling in his chest, so he could figure out why Ran didn’t want it, and why he was claiming he did. 

Oh, his breath shook, he tried to steady it. 

There was only one reason why Ran wouldn’t want him to be with you. 

“I’m not doing that,” Rindou finally said, and he hated how his voice cracked, and he hated how much it hurt him to voice aloud. Ran’s gaze was dark as it shifted back onto him, angry. “I’m not, Ran.”

“Why the fuck not?” Ran demanded, and there was an edge to his voice that Rindou really didn’t like, one that promised violence. This was going to end in an argument, “You love her, don’t you?” 

“So do you,” the words were bitter on Rindou’s tongue, speaking them outloud made him nauseous. Ran physically flinched at his words, drawing back, downturned eyes now wide and surprised. Rindou felt ill, taking his reaction as confirmation. 

“What?” Ran asked, voice breathless. 

“So do you,” Rindou repeated, voice steadier, more assured. “You love her too, don’t you?”

“No,” Ran said immediately, lying, and the rage hit Rindou so suddenly that he had a hard time controlling it. He was off of his bike in an instant, moving closer to Ran, blood running hot, skin burning.

“Why the fuck are you lying to me?” Rindou barely stopped himself from yelling at Ran, reaching out sharply to grab his collar. Anger flashed through Ran’s eyes, a type of anger that Rindou hadn’t seen in his eyes in years.

“‘Cause it’s not fucking true,” Ran knocked Rindou’s hand off of his collar, eyes dark and Rindou’s blood boiled. He reached forward again, this time with two hands, grabbing Ran’s collar again and shaking him. 

“I thought we didn’t lie to each other, Ran, what the fuck?” Rindou’s voice choked, his vision blurred. Frustration hit him so hard it had him dizzy. You were cold and distant, Ran was lying to him, and Rindou didn’t know what to do anymore.

He wanted you, god he had wanted you since you were kids. But there was no way, there was no fucking way he could do that to Ran. He knew how much it took for Ran to open up to people, how hard and how intensely he loved--he couldn’t just…

Ran pushed him away, harder this time. Rindou grunted when his back hit the wall of the building next to them, his gaze snapped up, meeting Ran’s. “Shut the fuck up, Rindou,” Ran spat out, tone vile and venomous. Rindou nearly flinched, Ran had never taken that tone with him before. “Shut the fuck up and go to her.”

“I’m not doing that,” Rindou said, “I’m not fucking doing that, Ran.”

“Why not?” Ran hissed, “She fucking needs you, Rindou. All this time I’ve-”

The anger hit a peak, Rindou shoved Ran right back, forcing him to stumble back into his bike. Rindou’s hands were clenched tight at his sides, shaking. His whole body felt like it was on fire, and he couldn’t tell if he was angry or disappointed or upset--maybe both, really. Angry at Ran for lying, for trying to push him into a relationship with you when he knew that he loved you too; disappointed at himself, for having fallen so easily for you and not having even realized that Ran felt the same way about you, for being so obvious in how he felt; and upset because he knew all of those things he had dreamed of with you would never happen because he could never do that to Ran.

“I’m not going to get with the girl you love,” Rindou shouted, “It doesn’t matter how much I love her too. You’re my fucking brother, Ran.”

And Rindou wondered just how stupid he was over the past few years. He thought back to all of the times he had seen Ran act around you--the stolen glances and small smiles when he thought no one was looking, the way he was always looking out for you and making sure you were okay. Rindou had never realized Ran’s feelings had run as deep as they had, but how hadn’t he?

It had been fucking obvious.

It had been so fucking obvious. 

All those times over the years when Ran had pushed Rindou toward you, putting you in situations that would bring the two of you closer together, pushing aside his own feelings because he knew that Rindou loved you. He felt sick to his stomach.

Rindou shut his eyes, taking a step back from Ran, “Ran, I can’t do that,” he shook his head, “I can’t do that.”

Ran straightened, pushing off from where he had stumbled back against his bike. He shot Rindou a livid glare, brushing off his clothes.

“Yes, you-”

Ran’s voice faltered, his gaze drifting off somewhere behind Rindou, a strange expression crossing his face. Rindou turned, following where he was looking, and his mouth dried when he caught sight of you exiting the Izanagi building, dressed nice in the outfit you had left the penthouse in at the crack of dawn this morning. You were talking to your uncle, walking toward an expensive car waiting at the front of the building. 

Rindou took a step toward you.  

He hesitated when you looked up from your uncle, eyes focusing in on where and Ran were waiting across the street by their bikes. Your name was on the tip of his tongue, he was ready to call out for you, to tell you to come over to him.

But you looked away. 

Rindou’s throat felt tight as you took one look at them, recognized them, only to return to conversation with your uncle, getting into the car with him without hesitation. 

Oh.

It stung. It stung bad. He remembered the days where you would flee school early, running to them giggling and excited, when they showed up at your classroom to pick you up before they got their tattoo, how your gaze had always been bright and thrilled to see them. He could practically picture the way you would raise your arms, waving to them before you would recklessly sprint across the street toward them, nearly giving both of them a heart attack..

But the car door only shut behind you, and even though the streets were loud and bustling with people, everything around him sounded far away and muted. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sleek black car as it pulled down the street, not until it was completely out of view.

His chest squeezed as he looked back at Ran, catching the hurt expression that flashed across his face as his eyes focused down the street where the car had disappeared to, all of the fight drained out of him as he let his gaze drop down to the ground, a sinking feeling rising through him that it wouldn’t quite matter what either of them had wanted.

--

NINE YEARS EARLIER. 

Mucho had been next. 

You felt numb as you walked ahead toward the warehouse that Mister Ayato and Mister Mado found out Ran and Rindou were at. 

The sky was dark, gloomy--there had been no predictions of rain when you last checked the weather station but it really would be just your luck for it to start downpouring now. 

You should be angry. You weren’t sure why you weren’t--you had told them over and over and over again to be back home by five at the latest. Now it was six, and you were going to be late to Mister Botan’s funeral. 

Mucho had been next, and after Mucho, it was nearly Terano Minami—the leader of Rokuhara Tandai, the next gang that Ran and Rindou had decided to join under. And while there was no love lost between you and Terano, your first impressions of one another having been less than ideal, you couldn’t help the guilt that crept in you, festering once you had learned what had happened.

Was this your fault too? 

You tried to atone for it. You did. You got Terano the best doctors Japan had to offer, the nicest hospitals, the most expensive treatments. But it wasn’t enough. They didn’t know when he would wake up, if he would wake up, even. And all you could do was wait. Wait for news, wait to find out if another person died because of you.

Maybe it would be best if you were gone. 

You were tired of waiting. All you did your whole entire life was wait--wait for your uncle, wait for yourself, waiting for this curse to finally devour everyone you had loved. 

Because you were certain of it at this point. The curse was real and it was only a matter of time before it took Rindou and Ran from you too.

You walked into the warehouse, ignoring the leers tossed your way by the unfamiliar men littered around the area. Your lip curled up in disgust as a particularly loud comment met your ears but you forced yourself to not acknowledge it--acknowledging it would only make them throw even more at you. 

You didn’t really know where you were--well you did, this was apparently the base for the Kanto Manji Gang, the gang that Rindou and Ran and the rest of their friends were absorbed into after Terano had been beaten to the brink of death by its leader. But you had never been here before, you only knew this from the little information that Mister Mado and Mister Ayato had found out when you had mentioned the predicament to them. You had no idea what the layout of the base looked like, and you had no idea where Rindou and Ran were. 

And you did not like the looks that kept getting thrown your way, and you liked even less the way that some of the men kept creeping closer. 

Discomfort brewed in your chest but you forced yourself to keep walking, keeping your chin up and your back straight.

Your gaze darted around as you entered a larger room, and relief hit you like a truck when you caught sight of four familiar figures lounged in the corner of the room. You beelined straight toward them, irritation fizzing in your chest when you noticed they weren’t doing anything important to excuse their lateness. But you couldn’t hold it--the irritation fizzled as quickly as it came. 

You paused several feet away from them, none of them noticed your presence and your eyes focused on Rindou and Ran. Your chest felt tight when you noticed the easy smile on Ran’s face as he leaned back against the wall, talking to Mochi and a scarred man you didn’t recognize, when you noticed how Rindou was relaxed on the ground, shooting jabs back and forth with Shion. 

Izana and Mucho were not there. You could almost imagine Izana lounging on a nearby crate, chin propped on his hand as he watched over them. You could see Mucho standing next to Mochi, half-amused and half-annoyed as Rindou and Shion’s jabs grew more intense. 

Maybe it would be best if you were gone. 

Once again, resentment and fear stirred in you but you pushed it back down, smothering it.

“You should be home,” your voice came out duller than you intended for it to. You stared ahead, down at Rindou and Ran, watching as their heads snapped toward you, eyes wide and expressions pale. “We are going to be late for the funeral.”

“It’s time already?” Rindou was pushing himself to his feet immediately, sharing a look with Ran.

“How’d you get here?” Ran asked at the same time.

“It is well past time,” you said in response, ignoring Ran’s question, “and you can’t attend the funeral in… that.”

You eyed the dark uniform adorning their bodies, shaking your head. You turned on your heel and started back the way you had come from, eyes catching a figure standing at the opposite side of the wrong--blonde hair, empty dark eyes trained on you. 

He was familiar, you couldn’t quite place from where though. You didn’t pay mind to it for too long, instead only continuing on.

You were being cold to them, you had been over a year now. You knew it, and you felt guilty. So fucking guilty. You wanted to apologize, and tell them you missed them. It had been so fucking long since you did anything with them--more focused on learning from your uncle and the other Izanagi executives so you could learn the steps to start your own corporation. 

You were doing what was best, you reminded yourself--the mantra you had begun to chant whenever doubt began to cloud your mind. Once you got your own company up and running, once you had the power you needed to keep them safe--from enemies, rivals, even that god forsaken curse--you would go to them, you would apologize and tell them everything, beg them to forgive you. 

But until then, you had to keep your head on straight.

You heard Rindou and Ran call after you but ignored them, keeping your gaze trained ahead as you made your way out of the larger room and down the hall. Mister Ayato and Mister Mado were waiting in the car outside, dressed and ready to go to the funeral, you knew they were unhappy with Rindou and Ran but you had asked them to not start an argument over it--not yet, at least--and you hoped that they would keep to their word.

You were sure Rindou and Ran felt bad about losing track of time--and you knew you should be angry at them too, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to be. Maybe it was just the numbness of another loss, or maybe it was something else but-

A hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You paused, turning to look at the offender over your shoulder--Rindou’s hand dropped from your wrist as soon as your eyes met his, you raised your brows.

“We don’t really have time to spare,” you told him, “What is it?”

You didn’t mean for your voice to come out as sharply as it did, really, but anger flashed across Ran’s face behind Rindou, anger that he only just barely managed to push aside as he forced himself to look away. Rindou didn’t say anything, so you only waited a moment before letting out a sigh and turning back around, continuing back toward the car. 

Your family. Izana. Mucho. Nearly Terano. Now Mister Botan. 

Seven people, six untimely deaths, and one brush with death.

Who would be eighth?

Miss Yua or Mister Ayato? Mister Mado?

Shion or Mochi?

Your uncle?

Ran or Rindou?

You felt sick to your stomach, your body felt chilled over, as if you had just walked out of a freezer, your head felt dizzy. Calm down, you told yourself, now’s not the time. 

You could picture your mom’s excited smile as the four of you drove to your recital, your sister happily telling you about her day at school, your father squeezing your shoulder and telling you he was proud of you. You could see Izana sitting with you on the piano bench, humming along a tune as he strummed the strings of his guitar. You could see Mucho standing with Miss Yua, trying to learn how to cook from her, bringing you and Izana some bento he had tried to put together. You could see Mister Botan’s smiling face as you returned back to the penthouse after school, asking you how your presentation went today, and you could see him ushering you inside, grabbing you both some treats as he sat you down in the lobby and listened as you rambled on about your topic.

Maybe it would be best if you were gone. 

Behind you, Rindou and Ran were talking but you couldn’t even make sense of what they were saying. It sounded like they were underwater, or you were, you couldn’t tell. Your vision swam as you continued walking forward, and you could feel how stiff your body was with each step. 

The words rang through your head over and over again. 

Maybe it would be best if you were gone. 

Your eyes drifted back to Rindou and Ran, where they were talking quietly to each other, sparing brief glances at you before returning to whispering to each other. The guilt hit you again, harder this time, debilitating. 

You loved them.

A part of you had always known it, since you were kids but you had only recently come to terms with it—when faced with an ultimatum from your uncle: head to a prestigious foreign university and jumpstart the process to forming your own company or wait to inherit Izanagi from him. The choice should have been obvious, there shouldn’t have been any debate… but it wasn’t obvious and there was debate. 

Because you would have to leave them, and you didn’t know how long you would be, and they wouldn’t be able to join you, and you didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it. Every time you thought of the years you would spend apart—all of the memories you would make without them, all of the space that would grow between you—it made you sick to your stomach, to the point where you were keeling over in your room and dry-heaving, trying to mask your sobs and heaves by turning up the television so they didn’t hear you.

You didn’t want to do it if it would cost you the only two people you had ever loved but-

Your family. Izana. Mucho. Nearly Terano. Mister Botan.

What if being here costed you them anyway? Except in a far more permanent way. 

Maybe you were better off gone.

Tragedy follows you and it was only a matter of time before it took everybody else. It was only a matter of time before you were alone.

You slipped into the backseat of the car, resting your forehead against the window letting your eyes slide shut. You would lose everyone, you knew it. You could feel it deep in your bones.

… unless you left first, that is. 

---

PRESENT.

“What the fuck did you do?” 

Rindou’s ears were ringing as he stared off to where you disappeared to, doors shutting loud, damning. He could barely breathe, his hands shook as he held Ran in place. 

“Rindou, what the fuck did you do?” Ran roared, “What the fuck did you do? Why the fuck would you do that? I thought you fucking loved her, I thought you loved her.”

Rindou grimaced as Ran’s elbow drove deep into his side but Rindou was certain that it was his words that had knocked the wind out of him, not the blow. I do love her, Rindou wanted to scream at him but he couldn’t form the words. His body seized at the harsh blow delivered to his gut. His grip faltered around Ran, giving him the chance to push off the ground and stumble toward the door. 

What did he do?

He stared ahead for a moment, not moving, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. 

He let you go. 

He let you go. 

Rindou’s body moved on his own as he threw himself forward, hand wrapping around Ran’s wrist as he yanked his brother back toward him before he could try to push the doors to the locker room open. 

He felt numb, his body felt cold.

He let you go. 

Ran thrashed against him, trying to push Rindou off of him, but he was weak, and was getting weaker with each passing second. He was stressing out his wounds, straining his body, and Rindou opened his mouth to tell him to stop but no words left his mouth. 

He let you go. 

“Let go of me,” Ran demanded and Rindou held him tighter, his heart felt like it was in his throat, tears stung his eyes. He could barely breathe, he couldn’t open his mouth to tell Ran no, he felt sick to his stomach. “Let fucking go of me, Rindou, you let her go, what the fuck is the difference? Let me go too.”

He let you go. 

He did the right thing, didn’t he?

Doubt clouded his mind, he forced himself to repeat the words over and over and over again. He did the right thing--you knew what you were doing, and Ran wasn’t in any kind of fighting state. There was one gun, not enough bullets, if he had done as Ran said, if he had forced you to stay, they would have been gunned down, no question about it.

At least this way they had a chance. This way Ran had a chance.

But he let you throw yourself to the fucking wolves for it.

Was it worth it?

He felt as if the weight of the world had dropped onto his shoulders, he thought back to all those myths that you and Izana had been so interested in, and he wondered if this was how Atlas felt when he had to bear the weight of the sky. 

He let you go. Was it worth it? 

Was it worth it? 

Ran would have died if he didn’t, it shouldn’t even be a question. Of course, he did the right thing, why was he even questioning it like this? Ran had always put him and his safety first, Rindou had to do the same.

But at what cost? Sacrificing you? The woman he loved? … the woman his brother loved?

Bile rose to his throat, he took another elbow to the gut from Ran--this time, he didn’t let go. 

“Stop,” he tried to tell Ran, voice raspy and pain shooting up through his body, “Ran, stop.”

“Fuck you, Rindou,” Ran’s voice was shriller than he had ever heard it before, his eyes were wild. Rindou opened his mouth to tell him to stop but his eyes widened as Ran seemed to gain a sudden boost of energy, pushing Rindou away hard and sending him crashing back into one of the benches.

Rindou let out a string of vile curses, the pain of the metal digging deep into his side making his vision flash white. He forced himself back to his feet, preparing to drag Ran back down to the ground but he paused when he realized Ran hadn’t made any move toward the door.

His face was pale and his shoulders were slumped, he stared at the door with a sort of expression that had Rindou’s throat closing up with guilt. 

“This is all my fucking fault,” Ran breathed out and Rindou shook his head, moving closer to him. He put his hand on Ran’s shoulder but Ran shrugged it off, looking away.

“Ran, it’s not-”

“I left the auction, Rindou,” Ran said, “I left the auction and put myself in the position to get caught. Which made her have to make the decision that led to me getting my ass beat. Which led to her breaking me out, which led to this. If I had just stayed in the fuckin’ auction hall like Kakucho said, we would not be in this position.”

“That’s not-”

“Fuck off, Rindou,” but there was no heat behind Ran’s voice this time and Rindou couldn’t look at his brother’s face anymore, he couldn’t stand the broken expression on his face, and he couldn’t stand the heavy feeling that kept pulling at his stomach. 

He looked down at the ground, fists tight at his sides. You were talking to them on the opposite side of the door but he couldn’t make out what exactly you were saying. He should have faith--you always managed to talk your way out of situations. If Rindou had to bet, he would say it’s one of the things you were best at.

You would be fine. They would be fine. 

He made the right choice by letting you go. 

But Rindou couldn’t help the strange feeling that began to pass over him as he lifted his gaze back up.

His hair stood on end, the entire world around him tunneled as he stared at the doors to the locker room--something bad was about to happen, he realized, letting go of Ran’s shoulder and taking a step toward the door just as the deafening bang of a gunshot resounded through the air around them.

--

There were a lot of them. Too many of them. You couldn’t help the anxiety that started to pool in your gut, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes unconsciously started to dart around, searching for any possible escape routes. There weren’t any but you knew it wouldn’t have mattered even if there were one. 

You couldn’t leave them here. 

You kept your shoulders square as you raised your chin, eyes steady on the man at the front of the group. You did not recognize him. Tall, light hair and lighter eyes. He looked foreign. His gaze was cold, his smile was mocking.

You hated him. 

You glanced back once, taking one look at the double doors of the locker room and after a second of hesitation, you moved, leaning down to pick up one of the weighted bars for lifting. Gritting your teeth as you bring it up to slide it between the handles, making sure that the door stayed shut and wasn’t able to be opened from the inside. The last thing you needed was for them to come out here and get themselves killed while you were talking. 

You stared at the door for a moment, shutting your eyes as you pictured them behind it, and briefly, you wondered if that had been the last time you’d ever see them. You felt sick, and your hands shook before you forced them to stop, turning around, lips twisted down, eyes dark. 

“If Sugawara wants Izanami, then they get to walk out of here. Alive,” you cut straight to the chase.

“You’re in no place to make demands,” the man noted, tilting his head to the side to eye you curiously. He holstered his pistol back at his side but none of the men with him lowered theirs. You kept yours steady in front of you. “I’m not going to negotiate with a gun aimed at my face.”

You grit your teeth--having the gun trained on their leader was the only sort of insurance you had right now, but you supposed it didn’t mean anything anyway. If you pulled the trigger, they would either just straight up shoot you, or at the very least subdue you and then kill Rindou and Ran.

Frustration bled through your skin and painted your blood black, you dropped the gun to your side. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Think. 

“What makes you think Kenji wants Izanami?” the man questioned, hands in his pockets as he took a step toward you. He looked at ease, relaxed, and resentment stirred in you. “We already have Izanagi-”

“Izanami is worth double Izanagi,” you interrupted, meeting his eyes, “and two night ago, I spent four hours talking to my lawyers in order to have it passed on to Kokonoi Hajime after I die. Bonten’s in a shitty spot now because you went after all of their current businesses, it won’t be as shitty once they have their hands on a corporation worth five trillion yen.”

The man’s lax position faltered, you kept your gaze steady.

You were lying. The company was still set to go to Takuya at your death but there was no way for them to know that. 

Or they shouldn’t have a way, at least.

“Get Kenji on the phone,” the man’s voice was sharp and cold as he looked over his shoulder at one of the men behind him, who shifted uncomfortably at his words. 

“Rui-”

“Now,” the man said harshly, waiting for the other man to scramble for his phone before turning his attention back on you. Rui’s lips twisted, “You’re a slimy little bitch, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like being backed into corners,” was all you said in response. 

Rui smiled, it had your nerves on fire, “Neither does he,” he said ominously, and you couldn’t help the chill that ran down your spine at his words, the way every single cell of your body screamed at you to run, to flee. 

Rui turned around, “Give me the phone,” he said, taking the phone from the other man and pressing it to his ear. You watched as he took a few steps away, speaking quietly to who you could only assume was Sugawara on the other line. You let out one steady breath, eyes taking one long look back toward where Ran and Rindou were on the opposite side of the door.

Did you do the right thing?

Now that you were out here, confronting them, you weren’t so sure. 

No, you tried to convince yourself, no, you did what was right. There was no other option. Had you waited for them to come in there, they would have died. 

Any option that ended with them dying was not actually an option. 

You forced your gaze back to Rui, watching as he paced around listening to whatever Sugawara was going on about. You stiffened as he stopped midstep, looking at you from the corner of his eye, “Are you sure?” he asked before wincing, “... alright, alright, I get it.”

Rui walked back over toward you, you eyed him hesitantly as he held out the phone, “For you.”

Staring at the device for a second, your lips pulled down as you took it from your hand, holding it to your ear, “What?” you asked. 

“It didn’t have to come to this. I gave you a chance, y’know?” Sugawara’s tone was a sort of faux-sympathy that made your skin crawl, “More than one, actually. But I gave you a real chance that night, asking if you wanted to make a deal for Haitani Ran.”

“You would have killed us both,” you told him, and Sugawara paused for a moment before snorting.

“Maybe,” he agreed, “At least it wouldn’t have been all three of you, though.”

Your blood felt cold, your breath caught. 

All three of-

“It’s going to be a pain in the ass trying to cover this to Ichirou, you’ve caused more trouble than you’re worth,” the fake tone dropped, replaced by a sharp and icy one that made your mouth go dry, “Kokonoi Hajime won’t be able to do anything with Izanami, he and the rest of the Bonten executives will be dead by morning.”

Your head snapped to the side as movement rushed near your head, eyes widening as Rui raised his gun to your temple. Your lips parted, a cry of warning on the tip of your tongue to Rindou and Ran but there was no time.

You never had enough fucking time. 

Your eyes slid shut instinctively as his finger twitched on the trigger. You wanted to apologize, tell them that you were sorry, that you had been wrong. You wanted to warn them and tell them you had failed, you should have known you would, you always fail without someone else’s help. You wanted to tell them that you wished you had listened to them, that you would have stayed in the locker room with them so you could at the very least greet death together.

You didn’t want to die alone.

But you couldn’t, because everything was happening too fast and you barely even had time to think, much less speak. The gunshot was deafening, your ears rung, and you waited for the pain. 

You waited, and you waited, and you waited. 

It didn’t come. 

Blood and mush splattered against your face, in your eye, across your lips. You forced yourself to look down when you felt something fall hard against your foot and you could only stare at Rui’s unmoving body at your feet--half of his face blown off, gun discarded on the floor next to you.

What the-

You didn’t have time to try to figure out what happened, diving down to grab his gun before throwing yourself behind some lifting equipment just as another bullet hit the wall by your head. 

Once you had some sort of cover, you looked around, eyes darting through the mirrors set up across the gym as you tried to understand what was happening. Sugawara’s men were taking cover throughout the room, half of them already dead on the floor. You couldn’t tell where the bullets were coming from--the entrance, maybe?

You tried to keep your breath steady but it was almost impossible under the circumstances. Every inhale caught, every exhale shook, fear was freezing your body, rendering you immobile. 

Don’t let it control you, you told yourself over and over again. Rindou and Ran were still trapped in the locker room—sitting ducks, although you supposed it might be for the best, considering they would have come out at the first gunshot and gotten themselves killed in the fire fight.

Protect the door.

Breathe in, breathe out.

You focused on what was happening around you. Most of Sugawara’s men had their attention trained on the barrage of bullets coming at them.

Most.

Your eyes darted around, training in on a man aiming his gun at the door. It was a thinner metal. 

The bullet would go right through, and you knew Rindou and Ran would be right on the opposite side of it, banging against the metal trying to get to you.

Breathe in. Aim. Breathe out. Pull the trigger.

The man hit the ground hard, blood spurting from his neck and pooling in his mouth, choking and spasming on the ground. You felt sick to your stomach but you couldn’t watch for long. You were forced to take cover again as his death caught the attention of one of his friends, who was aiming in your direction in an instant, bullets flying in the air just over where you had been standing.

Breathe in, breathe out. 

You had to control yourself. 

“I’ll cover you,” you heard an unfamiliar male voice say and your eyes widened as your gaze shot back up to the mirror, catching sight of the figure in the mirror making his way toward you, another covering his approach from a little ways back.

He was going for the locker room. 

Realization hit you like a truck, all of the air was ripped from your lungs as you realized where exactly the man was taking off to. You couldn’t get a good angle from where you were kneeling behind the machine, but if you stood or tried to move, you’d be in line of fire of the man that was covering him.

You didn’t know what to do.

You could feel the anxiety beginning to claw at your chest again. You could feel the panic rise, the way your breath quickened, the way your heart raced. You were hesitating, you could feel yourself hesitating and you couldn’t stop yourself. Your fingers trembled around the gun, the world around you was somehow sped up and moving in slow motion at the same time.

You had to risk it.

You’d have one shot. Make it count. You kept your eyes trained on the mirror, holding the gun steady in front of you before pushing yourself to your feet. You swiveled, aiming it in the direction of the man approaching the locker room and pulling the trigger without sparing a second.

He hit the ground, and then so did you. 

A searing pain shot through your arm, blinding pain, you felt like you were on fire and you gasped as your hand flew to your bicep where a bullet had ripped through and tore out a chunk of your skin on the side of your arm. You bit down hard on your tongue, swallowing the cry of pain. Tears stung your eyes and you tried so fucking hard to push them away because you couldn’t afford to have blurry vision right now. 

Get up, you told yourself, forcing yourself back to your hands and knees, your ears rung, your vision spun, get up. 

You held the gun tight in your hand, breath ragged as you tried to push yourself up but a large hand wrapped around your other bicep, yanking you to your feet. You tried to push away, panic flooding your system but whoever was holding you was strong, much stronger than you. 

“Oi, relax,” a voice grunted, and you paused, breath catching as your eyes snapped to a hulking figure standing at your right. Blonde hair, pointed eyebrows, and familiar red eyes stared down at you. 

“Hey, princess,” a familiar voice heckled from a few feet away, and now that you were slowly calming down, you realized that the gunshots had come to the stop, the chaos in the room having come to an eerie still, Sugawara’s men lying unmoving on the ground. 

Madarame Shion was crouching on the ground next to Rui’s head. Mochizuki Kanji kept you steady on your feet.

“Long time, no see,” Shion finished, pushing himself to his feet, a wild grin on his face. “You look like shit.”

You let out a huff of laughter that sounded more like a sob. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, “Fuck you, Shion,” you said, but there was no heat behind your words as you leaned into Mochi while throwing your good arm around Shion. Your chest felt tight, the tears that had been building in your eyes spilled over as reality, relief, finally hit you.

You felt a hand grab your hurt arm gently, “Fuckers are using RIP rounds,” you heard Mochi mutter.

“Yikes,” Shion said, pulling away from you to lean down and look at your arm, “Ouch, yeah, that gotta hurt. Glad it’s not me.”

You shot Shion a withering look but he only winked at you, nodding to the door to the locker room, “You might wanna let them out of there. Preferably before they find a way to burn this place down. We’ve gotta get out of here, I’m sure they’ll be sending reinforcements up soon.”

You let out a breath, stepping toward the locker room. The pain had you dizzy on your feet for a second but Mochi’s grip on your waist tightened, you thanked him quietly before moving to the door. You stared at it for a moment, throat tight, before you forced yourself to push the weighted bar out from where it was holding the doors shut. 

The bar hit the ground with a loud crash, you flinched at the noise before using your foot to roll it out of the way. You reached forward with your good arm, pulling the door open, and let it swing open with a dull thud. 

Ran stared back at you from where he was standing half in front of Rindou. You weren’t sure how many seconds passed as the two of you stared at each other, trying to process what you were looking at.

“You’re okay,” Ran had never sounded so relieved before, voice little over a breath as he rushed toward you, with a sort of energy you really didn’t think he had left in him. Your throat felt swollen as you felt his arms wrap snug around your waist, pulling you toward him, flush against his body. Your breath was shaky, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling as best you could. Your fingers trembled against his back, his palm smoothed out against yours, blunt nails digging into your shirt.

“God, I’m so-” Ran cut himself off, pulling back to look at you. His hands slid back up your body, leaving a burning trail in their wake until they came to your face, cupping your cheeks more gently than you had ever seen him be with anyone before. His eyes raked over you, his throat bobbed, “I’m so fucking mad at you. I’m livid, you have no fucking idea, you-”

He cut himself off, taking in a sharp breath, “You could have died. You-you can’t give yourself up like that, not for us. You-”

He couldn’t finish whatever he was trying to say, instead only pressing his lips together and looking away.

“Your arm,” Rindou’s voice was quiet, tight. You looked up from Ran’s neck, eyes focusing in on Rindou’s face, catching the strange expression that was decorating it as he held your arm. His lips parted as if to speak but no words left his lips.

Guilty, you realized, he looked guilty. 

“Hey,” Mochi said, “We don’t have time for the waterworks, come on.”

Rindou bristled, eyes darting up from you to glare at Mochi but his glare fell almost instantly, “Mochi? Shion?” he asked, surprise lacing his tone, evidently just having noticed them.

“No shit,” Shion said, ever the eloquent one.

“The fuck are you guys doing here?” Ran’s voice was rough as he spoke, stepping away from you to pick up a discarded gun from one of Sugawara’s dead men. “I thought Sanzu said-”

“Fuck Sanzu,” Shion interrupted immediately, “He’s a fuckin’ asshole. Kakucho got word of what was happening over here. He told us. We weren’t just going to leave you guys to die.” 

“Shion,” Rindou said quietly, and Shion looked uncomfortable at the change in tone, and the gratitude in Rindou’s voice. 

“Fuck off, don’t get all sappy,” Shion muttered, “Hurry up and get yourself armed. We gotta get out of here still.”

Rindou nodded, kneeling down to grab a gun, dropping the magazine out to make sure it was loaded before rising back to his feet, pressing his free hand against your back as he led you toward the door, Shion and Mochi taking the front. 

You winced at the sound of glass being crushed beneath your shoes, trying to keep your eyes off of the dead bodies littering the ground, trying to keep your mind off of the pain that was numbing the entire left side of your body. You tried to focus on Rindou’s hand warm against your lower back, on Ran walking a little bit in front of you. But it was hard. It was so fucking hard. Your entire arm felt like it was numb and on fire at the same time, you didn’t even dare to look at the wound. 

“I’m sorry,” Rindou said quietly, and you turned to look over your shoulder so you could see him but he only looked away. You tried to say something, tell him that there was nothing for him to be sorry for, but Shion was speaking before you could push the words past your lips. 

“We cleared out a good number of ‘em downstairs,” he said, pushing open the doors to the stairwell, holding them open for you, Rindou and Ran to pass through. “But I’m sure more’ve already showed up.”

Mochi let out a noise of agreement, “Kakucho texted us while we were on the way up here. Said another car pulled in.”

“Wonderful,” Ran muttered.

“At least it’s not-”

Another gunshot, Shion let out a string of curses, letting the door to the stairwell slam shut just as another three were shot at it from down the hall, denting the metal where his head was. The look Shion threw at the closed door was nothing short of lethal, Mochi shared a long look with him as Rindou stepped in front of both you and Ran.

“Go,” Mochi told the three of you, and all three of your heads snapped toward him instantly, questioning. “You’re not deaf, I said go. Go.”

“We’re not leaving you guys,” Rindou snapped immediately, “Fuck that. We’ll take them out and then get out of here together.”

“It’s a waste of time,” Mochi shot right back, “Ran is hurt bad, so is she. You need to get the two of them out of here, get a head start. We can catch up.”

You shook your head, a bad feeling settling in your stomach, “No, we-”

“Go,” Mochi said, voice harsher, “Go. We’ll be okay. If anything, you guys staying is going to put us at more risk. We’ll handle these guys and catch up.”

You shot a desperate look at Shion, waiting for him to speak up and tell Mochi that it would be better for the three of you to stay to help but he only nodded, grimacing as another round of bullets was fired at the door, “Go,” he said, “We’ll be fine. We’ll meet you at the safehouse. Okay?”

You wanted to argue, and scream at them that this wasn’t necessary but even as you opened your mouth another wave of pain hit you, making you sway on your feet. Rindou steadied you, taking one long look down at you before looking at Ran, who was in an even worse condition. He let out a shaky, frustrated breath, forcing his gaze back to Shion and Mochi.

“Don’t die,” his voice was low, it edged on pleading. 

Please don’t die, you echoed silently.

Shion only winked at the three of you, “Back at you,” he said as he motioned for Mochi to join him at the door. 

Rindou looked down at you as he walked over to Ran, wrapping an arm around his waist, “You can walk on your own?” he asked, and you nodded, trying to push away the pain and dizziness. “Okay,” he said, “Let’s get out of here.”

---

Ran had passed out on the way back, his aggravated wounds having become too much for his body to handle. Rindou could barely stand to look at you.

Every time you would go into the other room to talk to him, he would turn away or leave the room after sparing one look at your stitched up wound. You tried to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that it was your choice to go out there, but he would only scoff, shaking his head.

“I let you go,” he would say, voice low, defeated, and when you tried to grab his shoulder and force him to look at you, he would shrug you off and finally leave the room.

He couldn’t do this forever, you tried to convince yourself as you stared at the closed door to the bedroom he had claimed, debating on making another attempt. But even as the words crossed your mind, you knew that Rindou very well could do this forever--he was just as stubborn as Ran when he got like this, just as stubborn as you.

You sighed as you walked away from his door, making your way to Ran’s room instead. The halls were dark, and the safe house itself was chilly. You let out a shaky breath, arms wrapped around your torso as you kept down the hall. Your eyes flashed up to the clock—it was late, it had taken quite a bit to get to the outskirts of Tokyo to the safe house and you’d been there for a few hours already.

You wondered if Ran was awake yet, but you doubted it. He would have come to find you by now if he was, even if he knew damn well that you would have rathered him to stay laying down. You couldn’t help the way your mind began to wander back to Rindou, guilt churning in your chest.

He had done what you wanted—he had let go of you. And you knew from the look in his eyes, from the way his fingers trembled around your wrist that he didn’t want to, that it had taken everything in him to let go of your wrist and hold Ran back. 

And you couldn’t imagine what must’ve been going through his head when the first gunshot was shot--thinking that he was the one that let you walk to your death, thinking that he did it for the chance to save Ran but now Ran was going to die anyway and you got yourself killed trying to save the both of them. 

You didn’t blame him for not wanting to look at you but it still hurt. You wished you could go back to this morning, before all of this happened, when the two of you had just woken up, basking under the morning sun, still half-asleep and talking quietly to each other as to not wake Ran. You could have stayed there forever with them, Ran curled up behind you, Rindou inches in front of you—it had been good. It had been good for the first time in years, and now it was all shit again. 

But at least you were together. 

It was the only thought driving you forward. All three of you were alive, all three of you were together. You had to be grateful for the small mercies, not take the smaller things for granted. 

You let out a soft breath as you shook your head, continuing down the dim hallway til you reached the cracked open door at the end of it. Ran’s bedroom light was still on, and you rolled your eyes at Rindou, realizing he had probably forgotten to turn it off before leaving the room earlier. 

Slowly and carefully, you opened the door, wincing as it creaked under your push. You slipped into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind you, gaze flitting around the old room before you forced yourself to look at where Ran was still fast asleep in bed, laying still beneath the half-strewn off comforter. 

You looked over his body, your throat felt tight and your eyes stung as you looked down at the dark bruises visible--they had only gotten worse with the jostling around in the frantic escape from the penthouse. The one on his lower abdomen had spread all the way around his side and, from what you could tell, back, it was an ugly black and red color, and you wished Miss Yua was around to take a look at the wound because you had no idea what you were looking at, all you knew was that it was bad and he was in pain. 

His lashes brushed his cheeks as he slept soundly in the bed. Your hand drifted up to his cheek, fingers touching his skin so lightly that you could just barely feel him beneath you. He looked peaceful--more peaceful than you had seen him in a long time. And you knew from Rindou that he hadn’t been sleeping well--not for a while. You didn’t want to wake him, and you knew you should leave, let him get his rest but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

You didn’t want him to wake up alone. 

You swallowed thickly as your fingers drifted down from his cheek, trailing down his body to absently trace the tattoos decorating his chest down to the bruises. Your fingers hesitated above them, a sick feeling churning in your stomach.

Your fault.

The words rang loud, deafening in your head. This was your fault. Your choice. Was there another way? Had Sugawara been telling the truth? You knew he wasn’t. He literally admitted it on the phone; he was a scumbag that would have killed Ran had he known just how close the two of you were, and then he would have taken you out too but a part of you couldn’t help but doubt yourself.

What if this hadn’t had to happen? Look at yourself, you can’t even protect the two people you love most.

You shut your eyes, trying to force the tears away. I’m sorry, you wanted to tell him I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-

Long fingers wrapped around your hand, you opened your eyes and dragged your gaze back up to his face. Violet eyes peered up at you, brows furrowed, “It’s not your fault,” he murmured and you just shook your head and looked away. 

“Hey,” Ran’s voice was low, rough from sleep, you forced yourself to look at him again, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“What if there was another option?” you hated how your voice cracked, and you hated how Ran’s thumb smoothed over the back of your hand, “I didn’t even give it any thought, Ran, there could’ve been something else. If I had just took a minute to think I-”

He reached forward with his other hand, palm, coming up to cup your cheek, fingers dancing along your cheekbone. Your words faltered as you leaned into his touch instinctively, eyes lidded as you looked down at him.

“There was no time,” Ran murmured, “You did what was best in the moment. You always do.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him no, he was wrong, but Ran’s expression left no room for any arguments. And even if it had, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to bring yourself to argue with him.

You didn’t have much fight left in you at all anymore. You wanted to give up, lay in their arms and let the rest of the world fade away. Fuck Izanami, fuck your uncle, fuck Sugawara, and fuck Bonten. All you wanted was them, in any and everything way.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, and you weren’t sure how many times you had apologized over the course of the past two or three days but it didn’t feel like it was enough. You were sure that you could chant it out as a mantra for the rest of your life, the only words you ever speak, and you would still feel like it wasn’t enough. There were no words to accurately describe just how sorry you were--not just for what happened to Ran, but for everything else too--and there was nothing you could do, no action to take that would convince yourself of your atonement, even if they did forgive you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sor-”

“Stop that,” Ran said quietly, squeezing your hand softly as his thumb traced over your cheekbone again, “I-”

Ran’s brows furrowed, confliction crossing over his face for just a moment before he let out a deep sigh, “I’m angry at you,” Ran admitted, “I’m so angry at you but… not for the wounds. That wasn’t your fault.”

You tried to look away but he turned your face back toward him, “Don’t do that again,” he said, “Ever. Don’t give yourself up. We don’t trade lives.”

You didn’t want to make that promise. You hoped that you could just stay silent and he would take the silence as an agreement but you should have known better than that. Ran’s jaw clenched when you didn’t respond, you could see his temper flare behind his eyes and you could see him struggle to rein it in.

“Promise me,” he said more insistently, his fingers pressing into your skin just a bit deeper, “Promise me.”

You let out a heavybreath, you tried to close your eyes but he only tightened his grip, making you keep your gaze steady on him.

“I promise,” you finally said after a few moments, even though you knew damn well you’d never be able to deny either of them again. “I promise.”

Ran inhaled sharply, eyes searching yours to make sure you were telling the truth even though you knew it was unnecessary, you didn’t think you’d be able to bring yourself to lie to him--either of them--ever again. 

Ran leaned up, and you tried to stop him, noticing how his abdomen tensed as the pain hit him, but you were taken off guard as the hand on your cheek slid behind your head, pulling you down halfway to meet him. You inhaled sharply against his lips, hands frozen on either side of you, eyes wide just for a moment before your body reacted on its own, lips moving against his.

You shouldn’t be doing this, the thought made your hands tremble, but instead of pushing yourself away from him, you only shifted closer. The kiss was different from the one the two of you shared that first night--that one had been fueled by desperation, a loss of control, this one…

This one you wanted. And that wasn’t to say you didn’t want the one from the first night but you wanted this one in a different way, a more intense way. 

You brought your hands up to Ran’s face, cupping his cheeks, you let out another shaky breath into his mouth and your eyes slid shut as one of Ran’s hands slipped beneath your shirt, smoothing over your back. His skin was hot against yours, burning, only a few touches and you could barely think straight. 

This one was different. The noise you let out into Ran’s mouth would have been embarrassing under any other circumstances, you could feel your face heat up but Ran seemed to pay no mind, more focused on pulling you closer to him, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You didn’t quite know how to describe it but it had you dizzy, light-headed, not in the same way the one at the club left you.  

A strange feeling passed over you as your body pressed flush against Ran’s, half on top of him as his hand slid down your body, wrapping around your thigh to hook your leg over his waist. You should be pushing him away. You knew that. This was wrong, and not just for the obvious reasons—Ran was hurt, you shouldn’t be putting more strain on his body but also-

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway. Your breath caught as you pulled off of Ran. His eyes were hazy, unfocused on you. The violet lidded in a way that had your blood running hot, but you forced yourself to ignore it, pushing up to turn around. 

Rindou stared at the two of you, lips parted, an indecipherable expression on his face and a glass of water in his hand, one that he had clearly been bringing for Ran. He looked away sharply, placing the water down on the dresser before he turned on his heel and walked back the way you came. 

Oh, you had seen this play out before, you recalled, guilt making your stomach drop as you forced yourself to your feet, you wouldn’t let it end the same way this time. 

“Rin, wait,” you called, chasing after him. He was already three-quarters of the way down the hall by the time you caught up to him. “Rin,” you said again, voice catching, “Hold on!” 

You grabbed his wrist, but he only shook it right off. Irritated, you went for it again, and this time, he turned it on you, maneuvering his wrist out of your hold and swiveling it to grab yours, holding it at an uncomfortable angle as he pushed you back into the wall, pinning you in place.

“Stop,” his voice was low and rough. You could see the hurt swimming behind his eyes, but it wasn’t just hurt. There was something else there. Regret? Acceptance? You couldn’t tell, “Just stop.”

“What do you mean stop?” you asked, looking up at him, trying to get your wrist free from his hand but you couldn’t, his grip only tightened. “Rin-”

“Stop as in leave me alone,” Rindou said, shaking his head and taking a step away from you, “I made my choice. I let you go. Go back to Ran.”

“You what?” you breathed out, there was a cryptic undertone to his words, one that you weren’t quite sure that you liked, “Rin, what are you talkin-”

“Stop,” he raised his voice, saying your name sharply, and you flinched back. He faltered at your reaction, shoulders dropping, if only slightly, eyes shutting. “Just go back to Ran. Please.”

“No, Rin,” you shook your head, mind running a million miles a minute. I let you go, was he talking about back at the penthouse? He had to be but it didn’t make sense. How did that relate at all to what was happening right now? “Rin, are you talking about back at the penthouse, I don’t-“

“I let you go,” Rindou said again, but there was no anger in his voice this time, only distress. “I let you go. I let go of your wrist and let you walk to your death, I let you go when he was fighting tooth and fucking nail to make you stay, begging me to at least let him go out there with you. I just let you go.”

You faltered, shaking your head and trying to reach back out for his hand but he stepped away, “Rin, I asked you to, that’s not-“

“No,” Rindou said, shutting his eyes, his voice was weak and all you wanted to do was reach out and hold him, “You don’t-you don’t understand. The first gunshot, when it went off. I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead and I had let go of your wrist, I let go so you could sacrifice yourself to try to save us. I let you die for nothing.”

“I’m not dead though, Rin, I’m right here and I’m okay, I-“ he didn’t let you finish. Again.

“That’s not the point, I forfeited any-“ he cut himself off, stammering over his words before he squeezed his eyes shut, rephrasing. “Ran fought for you, and I gave you up. I let go. Go back to him. I’m okay, really.”

“You didn’t give me up, and you didn’t let me go,” you cried out, getting frustrated with his stubbornness. You pushed his chest hard, making him crash back into the opposite wall. “You fucking believed in me, Rindou. Stop throwing a pity parade and-“

“Stop!” Rindou yelled this time, anger flaring in his eyes. And you felt overwhelmed, anxious, because Rindou was getting the wrong idea, understandably, and he was spiraling and you didn’t know what to do and you didn’t want him to feel this way. Because you didn’t want Ran, you wanted them both. “Fucking hell, I know you want him, I saw you two that night at the club. I saw you just now! Why the fuck won’t you let me do the right thing and walk away? Both of you, neither of you fucking give a shit about what I want. He didn’t back then, you don’t now. I’m trying to make this fucking easier on myself. I fucking know you want him and-“

“I want you both!” you shouted at him, interrupting him mid sentence. Rindou froze from where he was standing in front of you, and you froze too, mind spinning as you processed the words that you had just spoken out loud—the same words you had never dared to speak all of those years ago—before you spoke them again, quieter this time, less heat behind them. “I want you both.”

Oh god.

Oh god.

You didn’t move, keeping your gaze trained forward as soon as you fully registered what you had said. What the fuck was wrong with you? Now was not the time for this. You-

“What?” Rindou’s voice was little over a breath. You shook your head and took a step back. He matched your step, keeping the distance, “No, don’t you dare try to back out now. You don’t get to say something like that and then try to pretend you didn’t.”

Your bottom lip trembled. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Ran leaning against the doorframe of his room, watching you, and you had half a mind to snap at him and tell him to get back in bed.

Where had that come from? you tried to ask yourself. But you supposed that wasn’t the question—you had always loved them, from the beginning, the years abroad hadn’t changed that no matter how hard you might’ve tried to convince yourself and Rindou had pushed you into finally admitting it out loud.

You let out a shaky breath, hands fisted tight at your side, “I said what I said. Now isn’t the time though, we should talk about this once we’re out of Tokyo.”

“Technically we’re out of Tokyo,” Ran butted in, eyes sharp and curious as he watched you.

“You know what i mean,” you snapped right back, glaring at him, “Go back to bed.”

“Join me and I will,” he winked and you felt hot as you glared harder before looking away, the embarrassment slowly beginning to hit.

“I-“ you began, closing your eyes when you stuttered over your words, “We shouldn’t talk about something like this until we’re safe.”

“We’ll never be safe,” Rindou murmured and you grimaced, his words weighing heavy on your chest because you knew they were true.

“I don’t really know what else there is to talk about,” you tried a different approach, but from the way Rindou rolled his eyes, you knew it was going to go just as poorly. “I said what I said-“

You were cut off as Ran nodded at Rindou, and Rindou scoffed, grabbing your good arm and dragging you back into Ran’s room. You struggled, kicking the back of his knee and spitting out curses, but he only ignored you.

As soon as the door shut behind the two of you, another heavy silence settled.

“How long?” Ran asked, moving to sit back down on the bed, arm resting on his torso. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate, “How long have you known this?”

You did not want to answer, but they were not giving you a chance to change the conversation and you couldn’t think straight.

“Since we were younger,” you finally said, and they both shared a look. You tilted your head up, trying to hide just how humiliated you felt. “Kids, really.”

Ran snorted, taking a sip of the water that Rindou had brought him, “Could’ve saved me and Rindou a lot of arguments,” he murmured, amused and you forced yourself to look back down from the ceiling.

“What do you mean?” you asked but then your lips twisted down as you remembered Rindou’s words: he didn’t back then, you don’t now.

“Nothing,” they chorused at the same time and you glared at them.

“Are you kidding me? You’re making me answer all this shit but you won’t?” you snapped, moving to rise off the bed but Ran’s arm snapped out quicker, tugging you back down. 

You scowled as your back hit the bed, wincing as you jostled your bad arm around, “That hurt,” you muttered, and he gave you a half-assed apology. You tried to sit up but his palm pressed against your chest, pushing you back down, “You’re not funny,” you told Ran.

His lips curled up into a sly smile that nearly had you squirming, “I’m not trying to be,” he said and you let out a half-nervous, half-irritated breath, looking to Rindou for help but he only pointedly looked away.

“Why did you leave then?” Rindou was changing the subject and you wanted to throw a fit because you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop him from doing it. “If you knew back then.”

“Because I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way of my goals,” you said right back and Rindou winced, looking away.

“We weren’t your goal?” 

“You guys were always my ultimate goal,” you said quietly, giving up on trying to get Ran to let you sit up, staring at the ceiling. “But there were things I had to do first. I told you last night, the detours… there were just… a lot more than I thought. It took longer than I thought. But being with you guys, that was always my goal in the end. You guys are all I’ve ever wanted.”

Neither of them spoke for a while and Ran finally let go of you, you immediately took the opportunity to sit up, shooting him a glare before you settled back down, cross-legged between them on the bed.

“We shouldn’t be doing this now,” you spoke softly again, staring at your lap, “There’s too much going on, we still need to figure out how to get out of Japan and-“

“We’re not getting out of Japan until shit calms down, there’s no way. Unless you have a secret private airport you can bring us to,” Rindou countered and your shoulders slumped.

The only private airports you knew of were your uncle’s, and Sugawara would have eyes all over them right now.

“That’s what I thought,” Ran’s eyes danced with a sort of delight you hadn’t seen in them for a long time. Next to him, Rindou looked just as interested and an anxious feeling settled in your stomach as the two of them shared a look—they had always been most dangerous when they worked together. “So how ‘bout you sit back and relax and tell us everything this time?”

WC: 12.5k 

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK GREATLY APPRECIATED !!! 

— feedback on character development and story progression pls do not nitpick little mistakes — i didn’t even run this chapter thru grammarly 🥹

[ace-dodo]

I still haven't done Inazuma at all (I'm working on it rn) but after completing the simulanka quest ik I'll probably cry when the wanderer's backstory gets revealed

[pennyellee]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.

1996

“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.

“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.

Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.

Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.

You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.

He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.

Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.

“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.

“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.

“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.

“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.

“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.

“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.

“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.

Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.

“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.

“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”

“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.

You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.

Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.

“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.

Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.

It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.

“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.

“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.

Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Not a chance.”

The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.

This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.

You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.

It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.

“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.

When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.

“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.

You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.

You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.

“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.

The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.

“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.

“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.

“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.

“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.

His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”

Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.

“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.

“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.

“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”

But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.

Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.

It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.

With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.

“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.

“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.

A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.

You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.

You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”

In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.

Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.

The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.

As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.

You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.

Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.

They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.

All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.

You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.

Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.

Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.

He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.

“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.

“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.

“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.

With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.

Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.

A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.

Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.

Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.

The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.

You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.

Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.

“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.

“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.

“I need you.”

You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.

Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?

The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.

He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.

You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.

“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.

“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.

He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”

The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.

“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.

“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.

“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.

Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.

“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.

“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.

He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.

“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.

“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.

“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.

It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.

You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.

“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.

“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.

“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.

“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.

As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.

“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.

“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.

“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.

“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.

“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.

“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.

“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.

What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.

He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.

Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.

His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.

You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.

“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.

“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.

The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.

He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.

“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.

“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.

Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.

You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.

He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.

The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.

“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.

“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.

You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.

“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.

He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.

“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.

“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.

“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.

Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.

“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.

“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.

“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.

“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.

Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.

As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.

“I love you so much baby—”

It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.

But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.

“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.

You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.

The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.

And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.

The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.

And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.

You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.

Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.

You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.

The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.

You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.

Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.

“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.

“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.

“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.

You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.

He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.

“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.

“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.

“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.

“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.

Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.

You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.

His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.

After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.

As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.

“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.

“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.

Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.

Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.

Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.

The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.

As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.

Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.

“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”

“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.

“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.

“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.

“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.

“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.

“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”

“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.

“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.

Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.

“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.

“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.

“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.

“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”

“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.

“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.

“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.

“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.

“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.

“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”

“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.

“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.

“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.

“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.

“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.

“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.

“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.

“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.

“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”

“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.

“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.

You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.

The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.

Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.

“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.

“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.

“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.

“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.

Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.

“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.

“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”

Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.

“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.

“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.

The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.

Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.

“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.

“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.

“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.

He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.

“Swallow.”

The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.

If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.

Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.

When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.

The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.

You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.

The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.

He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.

You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.

As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.

The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.

Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.

You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.

It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.

It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.

A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.

You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.

But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.

The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.

“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.

A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.

As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.

First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.

Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.

Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.

That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.

The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.

The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.

“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.

He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.

“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.

With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.

He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.

The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.

The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.

It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.

A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.

Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.

A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?

Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.

His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?

You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.

“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.

“You will.”

I N T E R L O G U E 

Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.

His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?

He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.

The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.

“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.

“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.

“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.

“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.

As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.

“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.

“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”

.

.

.

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy - @mylyus-blog - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim - @doulcha - @sexytholland - @minyngr - @mizuumii @ali99eel - @loomipee @jkslvsnella - @tearykth - @iveivory - @lachimolalajeon - @mother2monsters

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader warning(s): cheating, straight girl stuff / in the closest reader kinda?, toxic af paige, leg riding, mirror stuff, strap... believe thats it. synopsis: paige and her sadistic ways twist you in-and-out while she discovers just how loyal you are to your best-friend and boyfriend word count: 2.2k Author Note: second draft! written around the time of the draft which'll explain my obsession over her white suit in this. beautiful plot line, not my favourite execution, but i've been getting lots of asks over releasing the drafts so!!! there's so many uncompleted ones HELP.

After a long night out with your best friend Kaia and her girlfriend, Paige Bueckers, you staggered through the front door, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on your shoulders.

Paige's presence in Kaia's life was a destructive force. As Kaia's confidante and roommate, you'd witnessed firsthand the devastation Paige's relentless cheating wreaked on Kaia's heart. Every time Paige hurt her, it hurt you too. Those late nights when Kaia would seek refuge in your bed, pouring out her tears and whiskey-fueled rants about Paige, revealed the painful truth. And as Kaia's roommate and best friend, you were perpetually caught in the crossfire of her 'relationship' with Paige—one that was practically open, only on Paige’s end. You’d listen to their late-night arguments over the phone and witness the tension when Paige came by to pick up her things. It felt as though you were living the relationship alongside Kaia, experiencing every high and low through her pain and anger with her. And despite all of Kaia’s tearful vows to move on and promises to never take Paige back, she always found herself drawn back to her.

You carried her burden in your heart, never able to forgive Paige. To be honest, you hated her—her walk, her talk, the way she bit her lip when she listened to you berate her for how she treated Kaia, how she’d show up unannounced, knowing you’d be the only one home, how she breezed in with a casual, almost arrogant familiarity. Her charm and the fake squeaky-clean persona that deceived so many only fueled your resentment, because you saw through the façade that fooled her fans and everyone who knew her casually.

To you, she was nothing but a tall, blonde-headed casanova who couldn't keep it in her pants to save her life. You hated Paige beyond say, and Kaia knew that well.

Which is why you want to kill her when Paige shows up at your figurative apartment doorstep, prattling on about how Kaia invited her and that she’s NOT trying to win her back—because she already has, simply by doing nothing. You're seething as you step aside and watch her scoop Kaia up into her big arms, clad in a white suit. Tonight was supposed to be a reprieve—a girls' night out to distract Kaia from her heartbreak and give you both a chance to unwind, but Paige’s presence is a crushing blow to that hope. As you fumed while standing in line, awaiting Paige to finish her call, Kaia tries to explain herself, which only makes you more infuriated, alcohol working the opposite way in you at just the sight of Paige and the words of Kaia. “She gave me all her passwords, I check her phone whenever I want, and she goes straight to practice and then back to her dorm.”

You scoff. "Bet you she’s on the phone with another girl right now. Fucking slut." you shake your head. "Hey!" Kaia interjects, "She's changed, Y/N, trust me." she insists, sounding rather unsure of it herself.

When Paige’s celebrity status lets you all skip the line, you’re just grateful for the chance to get more drinks in your system and chase away the unsettling feeling of her presence. Apparently, so is Kaia. Despite her recent assurances of Paige’s commitment and honesty, Kaia clings to her as if her very happiness depends on it while she pounds back drinks as if she’s trying to drown out her doubts. You try to enjoy the night as best as you can, finally tuning out Kaia's emotional jargon and letting Paige handle it. Losing yourself in the drinks, perhaps an hour later, you text your somewhat, kinda, not really boyfriend about how horny you’re feeling. He suggests you go to the bathroom and send him some “cute” pictures.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, seeking refuge from the crowd and loud music, hoping to find a small solace in the distraction he offered. Instead, what you found in the bathroom shattered any remaining sense of calm you had.

Paige, all 6 feet of her, was making out with another girl, her hands tangled in the stranger’s hair. The sight was both infuriating and depressingly predictable. Your heart pounded, feeling betrayal and anger as you burst into the bathroom, your voice trembling with rage.

“What. The. Fuck?” you demanded, your eyes flashing between Paige and the other girl.

They froze, and the other girl looked between you and Paige, confusion etched on her face. You didn’t wait for any explanations. “How could you? You—selfish, manipulative bitch!” you shouted, before turning to the girl. “Get out.”

The girl hesitated, wide-eyed and frightened, but you grabbed her arm and shoved her out of the bathroom, your frustration spilling over. “Go!”

As the door slammed behind you, you turned to Paige, shaking with anger. “When will this end, Paige? When will you stop doing this to Kaia? Enough is enough.”

Paige shrugged, her nonchalance only infuriating you more as she shrugged with her hands before adjusting her suit in the mirror. “This isn’t about Kaia, and you know it,” she said dismissively, notioning. You clenched your fists, feeling a deep sense of betrayal. “Stop playing games. She’s my best friend, Paige. This is about her.” you affirmed.

Paige suddenly turned to you, her blue eyes narrowed as her hand found its way to your waist. “Is it?” she asked, her voice low and taunting.

Before you could react, she turned you around and pressed her body against yours, soft lips trailing a teasing kiss along your left shoulder.

“Stop,” you said, though your voice wavered as your body betrayed your words, leaning into her advances and pressing your ass against her crotch helplessly. “Not again, no,” you try to protest, but Paige's hand slips between you both, rubbing at your clit slowly. “One last time,” she whispers, nipping at your ear, her tone pleading. “Please.”

“Paige, get... fuck... get away from me, I—I can’t.” Your voice is strained as Paige’s other hand gropes your breast through your dress.

“Why not?” she breathed, her lips brushing against your ear. “Still have a boyfriend? Still playing best-friend?” You squeezed your legs together, trapping her fingers in the process and gasping in shock when she pushed her leg between yours, forcing them open.

It’d been so long since you last had Paige that you forgot the stark difference in size and strength. You were like a ragdoll to her.

“Just look at you,” she taunts, and like the slut you are for her, your eyes flutter open again, noticing she’s shifted you to face the mirror, showcasing your helpless, exposed reflection. It was sick — your body pressed against her long, strong leg, the girl moving your trembling frame like a toy as she shifted you across her knee slowly.

You moaned despite yourself, the stimulation making it difficult to maintain your resolve. “You don’t have to lie to yourself anymore. Look how fuckin’ much you like it,” she taunts, watching as you bunched your dress up into your hands, giving Paige a perfect view of your ass as you scooted back and forth, coating her thigh in your wetness.

"Good girl, baby," she coos, controlling your hips with every movement. "Lemme see those tits too, c'mon baby, pull 'em out for me." You groan as you comply, letting your dress fall from your shoulders, and you wiggle your hips, anchoring yourself on the sink counter while you move, letting out a tiny whimper of her name. "Shit, Paige,"

As you tried to scratch the itch, getting it over with and cumming on her expensive suited-up leg you were humping like a desperate animal, the bathroom door suddenly swung open, and Kaia stumbled inside, clearly fucked beyond plain drunkeness. You froze, fear paralyzing you as she swayed on her feet, her gaze unfocused and eyes half-closed. “Can you take me home?” she slurred, her words barely coherent. “I need to sleep.”

Desperate to keep the situation under control, you nodded. “Sure, Kaia. Let’s get you home.” You couldn’t believe how calm Paige looked as she smirked, unbothered and composed watching you. You helped Kaia out of the bathroom, her inebriation making her oblivious to the what had just unfolded, thankfully.

As you returned to your place after a long night out with your best friend Kaia and her girlfriend, Paige Bueckers, you staggered through the front door, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on your shoulders.

You tried to calm yourself, sitting on the couch and sipping tea, trying to make sense of the chaotic night and what you had done again.

The first time it ever happened, you could barely remember, only recalling the extreme confusion the morning after—about your sexuality, why Paige, and how you could ever do this to Kaia.

Paige emerged from the bedroom, her demeanor still flirtatious. “I’m staying the night,” she declared. “I don’t want Kaia to think I’m a bad girlfriend.”

And you were a bad girlfriend just like Paige, cheating on your boyfriend with her once again.

She settled down on the couch next to you, her hand finding its way to your thigh. “You should tell your boyfriend you don’t want to be with him anymore,” Paige suggested, her voice laced with an unsettling mixture of sweetness and command, emphasizing her ability to wield her charm when it suited her.

And speaking of suits, hers is completely discarded, leaving her in only her boxers, a pair of black basketball shorts, and a sports bra.

You glare. “Fuck off, Bueckers. I do want to be with him. I might be a cheater, but at least I actually care enough to be honest.” She smirks, amused at your denial. "Think you're honest? All you do is lie... to me, to Kaia, your boyfriend... yourself," she accuses, referencing the fact that you’ve never truly accepted your feelings for her or the reality of your situation. "The only honest thing about you is this," she whispers, hand sliding down to your cunt, covered in your panties underneath your night robe, rubbing and teasing. "So wet for me," she taunts. You gasp, arching your back and screwing your eyes shut in ecstacy. "Hate you," you murmur, clearly lying, hips grinding into her touch. She's close to you now, in your space, and she whispers, "I bet," before she leans in, capturing your lips with the fervor of a lifetime, like you're all she needs, nothing how she had been kissing that other girl, and you love it. She knows exactly how to break you.

Within moments, Paige has you in your bedroom, stripped, and laid out before her as she retrieves the strap-on she had kept hidden. You raise an eyebrow. It's sinful, raw, and dirty that you even find the courage to ask, "You fuck Kai with that?" and Paige smirks at you, sadistic and enjoying how she bends you past your own morals effortlessly. She shakes her head. "Wanted to," she admits, "but she always breaks up with me before I can."

And with that, she’s back on top of you, sliding her strap into you with effortless ease due to how slick and prepared you are for her.

You could see how Kaia could fall in love with somebody as sadistic, careless, and cruel as Paige. For one, she fucks like a pro, rocking her hips into you with enough force to make you see stars, and second, she is incredibly tender while she does, splaying kisses onto your chest, neck, and whispering sweet nothings to you of, "So good, baby," and "Take it, princess."

You claw at her back once you feel her suckle at your neck.

"Pl-Please," you beg, and Paige grins, flipping you so you can ride her instead. "Please what?" she gibes, holding on to your hips tightly. "Don't leave..." you start, your voice trembling, and Paige cockily responds, "Then tell him it's over." You moan at the reminder of your 'boyfriend', grinding your hips to match her rhythm as she thrusts upward into you. "Any hickeys," you finish, and you see it on Paige’s face—you’ve just given her a taste of her own medicine.

You writhe, watching how her muscles flex as she pulls you down onto her, observing the way your face contorts in pleasure and desperation. It flies from you as you get closer, becoming more frantic and wild. "I leave him, Paige," you gasp, moaning at the feeling of her tongue licking at your nipple. "What're you gonna do about Kaia?"

You forget she’s evil, and she hums against your nipple, sending vibrations through it that speed up your inevitable, impending orgasm. "Fuck you every night like this so she can hear," she promises, grunting as she thrusts into you with increasing force.

"Fuck!" you hate how commanding her words are and how they turn you on. "M'gonna cum, Paige, fuck, I'm gonna—"

A knock at the door interrupts you both. "Hello?" says Kaia, and you bite back a cry, trying to steady yourself in the throes of your orgasm, faltering over on Paige who continues to thrust into you. "Hey, baby!" Paige calls back, her voice feigning cheerfulness.

What Kaia says next leaves you stunned and disoriented, but unable to fully grasp her intent. “Are you guys finally getting along?” MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: Paige’s fucking espys look made me 😭 FUCKKKK bae so fine ugh sry had to get that off my chest. ALSO I left the ending ambiguous on purpose — do you think kaia knows?

Small update: guys there are SO many replies and inboxes YOURE KILLING ME

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Flowers (clark kent)

Summary: Clark has a surprise for you

Warnings: Fluff

WC: 451

A/N: i wrote this while holding back several emotions because i'm being sensitive af today. it's probably crappy and all over the place, but i'm okay with that. Please reblog if you enjoy <3

Read on Ao3!

---

The sound of rain tapping against the window filled the quiet of the apartment. Clark was pacing in the kitchen, running a hand through his messy hair as he glanced at you nervously. Something was up. He’d been acting strange all evening, fidgeting and avoiding eye contact, which was not at all like the calm, steady Clark Kent you knew and loved.

You sat curled up on the couch, watching him with a raised brow. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What are you hiding from me?” you asked, half teasing, half curious. He froze at the sound of your voice, eyes widening like a kid caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

“Hiding? Me? Nothing,” he replied, his voice a little too high-pitched to be convincing.

“Clark.” You gave him a pointed look. “You’re the worst liar ever. Spill.”

He let out a long sigh and stopped pacing, turning to face you with a sheepish smile. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and you could tell whatever it was, he was embarrassed about it.

“Okay, fine,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you can’t laugh.”

You grinned, sitting up straighter. “No promises.”

Clark walked over to the couch, standing in front of you as if he were preparing for a big reveal. He reached into his pocket, fumbling a bit before pulling out… a small, slightly crumpled bouquet of wildflowers.

Your heart melted immediately.

“I, uh, picked these on my way home,” he said, his voice soft. “I was going to surprise you, but then I thought maybe it was silly, and I didn’t know if you’d even like them—”

Before he could finish, you were already on your feet, throwing your arms around his neck and laughing. “Clark! That’s what you were hiding? You’re too cute.”

He blinked, caught off guard by your reaction, but quickly relaxed as you hugged him. “You think it’s cute?”

“Of course I do!” you said, pulling back slightly to look at him. “They’re beautiful. And it’s the sweetest thing ever.”

A relieved smile spread across his face, and he let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know why I was so nervous. I just wanted it to be perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” you whispered, standing on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Clark’s eyes twinkled as he handed you the flowers, his earlier nerves completely gone. “Well, if you say so.”

You took the flowers, grinning as you brought them to your nose. “I do say so.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you both stood there in the warmth of your little apartment, the rain falling softly outside.

And in that moment, everything was perfect.

[pinksturniolo]

Biggest Hater - Part One

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Part 1 of 2

Alternate version of my Chris fic: Biggest Fan

Requested by the baddest! @muwapsturniolo

Summary: You just don’t get the hype of the Sturniolo Triplets like almost every girl your age does. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that you went to high school with them and Matt Sturniolo particularly, got on your nerves more than anyone you thought ever could. In fact, it has everything to do with that. And when you run into him a couple years later, at the peak of their fame, your feelings haven’t changed one bit. No matter how attractive you find him.

Content warnings: smut, fingering, thigh riding, car sex, loss of reader's virginity, mean!matt (even tho he’s an angel irl), ANGST AF, enemies to lovers trope (somewhat?), slightly toxic, weed smoking

disclaimer: matt and reader are both of age in the prom flashback. also, dont drive under the influence if that wasnt already obvious lol

word count: 4,325

Hate is a strong word. What does it really mean to hate someone? It’s a powerful human emotion that many say is dangerously close to the emotion of love. To feel so strongly about someone, that every time you see them or hear their name it evokes a strong reaction in you, can cause your heart to race in your chest, and your hands to shake.

That’s how you felt every time you saw or heard of Matt. Whenever you visit your family home in Somerville, that’s practically all you hear people talk about. How famous he and his brothers are now and how successful they’ve become. Literally every girl you know has a crush on them. Even your roommate, Stephanie. It gives you a migraine how much people talk about them.

You couldn’t help how much of a hater you were. It wasn’t like you to be like this, you were usually supportive of mostly everyone, especially people you knew or grew up with. You went to high school with the triplets, so you had the privilege firsthand to experience how they were before their YouTube fame.

Chris was funny, always making jokes in class and very talkative. You didn’t mind him as much, during the few interactions you had with him, you found him to be sweet and he was known as kind of a player, but you never saw or heard of him treating a girl with disrespect.

Nick was outspoken and opiniated which you appreciated, and always nice to everyone. You actually got along with him really well, usually pairing up with him for projects in the biology class you two had together. He even invited you over to his house to hang out a couple times, but you politely declined. You adored him but there was one person you just could not be around that would be there.

Matt. He got on your last nerve like no other. He had the worst attitude, and it bothered the fuck out of you. He was pretty quiet, and he often missed school. But the times you were around him, he gave you the dirtiest looks and rolled his eyes whenever you spoke. Why? You had no clue. He was also an instigator, constantly pitting you against Chris and Nick for no reason, which they usually ignored but it pissed you off, nonetheless. There was just something about him that fueled rage in you like you’ve never felt. And it did not help that you were so goddamn attracted to him.

Let’s be honest, all that tension and angst is bound to create a type of energy that just can’t be ignored. Even if it’s caused by someone you can’t stand.

Then, came senior prom. The events of that night and what happened after, forever solidified your hateful feelings towards him.

You had gone with separate dates of course, but somehow ended up alone together by the end of the night. You had a suspicion that your friends and his brothers had something to do with it, but you sat in awkward silence and moping next to him on the bleachers as the rest of your senior class danced on the gym floor.

Large social events like this were not your cup of tea and neither for Matt. You rest your chin in your hand as you lean on your knees, watching your date dance like an idiot. He was your ride home and you were starting to get fed up, tempted to call your parents to pick you up or even order an Uber.

“What an idiot.” Matt says to you, his eyes also on your date.

You scoff, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean, I knew you were a loser, but I didn’t think you were that desperate.”

You turn to glare at him. “I don’t see your pathetic date anywhere.”

“She was talking too much for my liking.”

“Wow, what a gentleman you are.” You shake your head, eyeing his outfit up and down. “Looks like you didn’t put much effort into your appearance either, so she must not be that special.”

He smirks at your response, his eyes on your body as well. “I wouldn’t be saying anything with that tacky dress you have on.”

You hit him on the arm, anger filling you from his words. “You’re such a dick.”

“Ow!” Matt rubs his arm, his face scrunched up in pain. “Now I see why your date left you, you really are a brat.”

You huff in annoyance, beginning to wonder why you were even sitting here next to him. You stand up, picking your dress up from around your feet so you can step down the bleachers.

“Wait, hold on.” Matt says suddenly, wrapping his hand around your wrist to stop you from leaving.

You stop and look at him, your eyebrows raised in expectation. His fingertips burn into you and his eyes somewhat soften when you look into them.

“Fuck- my bad. I’ll stop, I promise.” he says, stopping you from leaving.

You’re surprised at his words and his fingers removed from around your wrist, when he sees that you’re not leaving, standing over him. He avoids eye contact with you while you stare at the side of his face, his hands now stuffed in the pockets of his suit pants.

His hair is longer now than it usually was, a middle part that showed more of his face and he wore a pair of earrings that you secretly liked. Despite your earlier comment, you also thought the suit looked really good on him. Matt had always had a good sense of fashion, but if anyone asked you, you would say his wardrobe is basic and unattractive.

“You better have a good reason for me to stay Matt because I’m starting to get tired and I just wanna go lay in my bed.” You tell him, waiting for him to say something, your arms crossed.

It’s then that he pulls a joint from his pocket, a mischievous look on his face.

“You can get stoned with me and relax for once in your life.” He says and you hesitate for a second before he stands up, and starts walking down the bleachers, motioning for you to follow.

You don’t know why, but your feet seem to have a mind of their own as you follow him, out of the gym and around the corner of the school. At this point you really had nothing better to do, even if it meant getting high with Matt.

He leads you to the football field across from the gym to the press box at the top of the stadium. You both sit inside, smoke starting to fill the small room as you and Matt pass the joint back and forth until it’s finished.

You both are actually engaged in a conversation that isn’t an argument for once and you find yourself giggling with him. Whether it’s because of the weed or because it’s prom night, you’re not sure.

You look at your phone, the time now almost midnight. “I should probably head home.” You say, getting ready to call your parents.

“Do you have a curfew?” Matt asks, a look on his face like he’s hoping you’ll say no.

“Not really…” you answer, setting your phone back down on your lap.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

✿

Matt watches with a smile as you as you catch your breath, laughing hysterically from his spot-on impression of Nick when he’s angry. You wipe the tears from your eyes, having laughed so hard you were crying. Your hair has fallen from the perfect curls you took extra time on earlier, the strap of your dress sliding down your left shoulder.

He realizes you have a nice laugh, not hearing it often since you’re always pissed off around him. You look beautiful, even more than you usually do, especially like this. The moonlight shines on your skin and he can’t help but stare at you until you catch him, and he looks away shyly, his heart starting to pound in his chest.

You’ve both been sitting here for the past 30 minutes, parked at the now empty neighborhood playground by your house. Matt had driven around for a while, even stopped to get McDonald’s, before he decided the night wasn’t over just yet and lit up another joint after your highs came down.

Now you both were absolutely shitfaced, having the most fun you’ve had in a while. It’s surprising how much you and Matt actually get along under the influence, probably because it calmed you both down enough to forget your stubborn tempers and just enjoy good conversation and laughter.

“Why didn’t you ever come hang out when Nick invited you over? I’m having a blast right now.” Matt says, leaning his seat back a little to relax.

“I think you already know that answer.” You reply, and your eyes trail down his body and the way it looks as he leans back. He removed his suit jacket when you guys were in the drive thru earlier, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up, his tie loose around his neck.

“Come on, you can’t really hate me that much can you?”

You sigh, looking away from him and out the window. Of course, he’s oblivious to how much he would actually bother you.

“Are you really that clueless?” You ask and look back at him. His eyes are glazed over and slightly red but incredibly blue.

“When it comes to you… yes.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, ignoring his response while brushing a hand through your hair and picking it up off the back of your neck. “God, its hot in here.” You say and he watches as you move your hair and lean your head to the side, your lips parted. Your slender neck looks inviting, and he can see your pulse jump.

He rolls the windows down slightly, letting most of the weed smoke filter out. His eyes are still on your face and when you return his gaze, this time, he doesn’t shy away.

“What?” You ask, the look on his face makes you nervous. He licks his lips as he looks back and forth between your eyes and your mouth, his jaw clenching.

The smoke has cleared but the air feels incredibly tense now as you stare back. Soft music plays on the radio and the wind blows through the trees outside. You feel like you’ve been transported to an alternate reality, the turn this night has taken starting to not feel real.

“Has anyone ever kissed you before?” Matt finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel your face heat in embarrassment at his question. “Uh… n-no.”

You internally cringe at the way you stutter, and the corners of his lips raise slightly at the flustered look on your face.

His hand comes up to your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing over your bottom lip. “Can I be your first?”

It’s no question that Matt has always found you attractive, even though he’s never voiced his thoughts to anyone about it. The problem is, he doesn't like most people and when it came to you, he just couldn’t swallow his pride enough to let his guard down. It turns out you two are extremely similar and it made you butt heads constantly. So, instead of letting himself let someone in for once, he chose to dislike you and it had always been easier that way.

But the way you look tonight, the infectious energy he’s getting from you now that he’s been alone with you for more than 5 minutes, it has him feeling something he’s never felt before.

Electric sparks crackle through you from his light touch on your lips and you almost open your mouth to taste him. But you’re still incredibly nervous. You haven’t had your first kiss yet, your first anything yet but all your thoughts can repeat is yes, yes, yes. Please be my first.

You nod and he leans over the middle console, his hand now firmly holding the side of your face, his fingertips sliding into your hair. Your heart threatens to go into cardiac arrest as he slowly presses his lips to yours, as if you might break like fine china.

But once your lips are connected, your nerves start to disappear and are replaced with feelings of excitement. They mold together almost perfectly, as he kisses your bottom lip and then your top one, his thumb stroking over your jaw. It feels incredibly sweet and tastes like sugar.

He pulls away slightly, his face still hovering over yours. You make eye contact and put your hands on his chest, your fingers grasping his shirt collar, afraid he might move away from you. “How’s that feel?” He breathes, his voice coming out in a rasp.

“Amazing...” You reply and he bites his bottom lip, his pants tightening from the look of pure want in your eyes. Before he can say anything, you kiss him again, this time with hunger and it feels like you’ve done it a million times before.

You expected your first kiss to be awkward, maybe even a little embarrassing. But this is nothing like that, your body heating and heart racing at the feeling of his wet, warm mouth against yours. He leads the kiss, both hands now on your face, his tongue sliding against yours.

It has your panties growing incredibly wet under your dress, and your breathing rapid as you grasp the tie around his neck, pulling it so he can get even closer than he already is. And then, he moans into your mouth and the sound has butterflies erupting inside you.

You decide you need more and push him back a little, disconnecting your lips. He starts to protest but then immediately stops when you climb over the middle and straddle him in the driver’s seat.

Luckily, the van is spacious and you’re not too uncomfortable as you sit on his lap, your dress riding up on your thighs. He places his hands on your hips as you kiss him again, gripping the silk harshly.

You can feel how hard he is under you, and he groans when you unknowingly grind against him, your body moving faster than your mind can think.

“Don’t do that.” He pants, catching his breath and stopping your hip movements. His eyes are closed, his eyebrows scrunched together as if he’s in pain. Your hands are on his broad shoulders, and they dip into his dress shirt through his loose collar, running your palms over his skin.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” You ask and you move your hips again, this time a little slower. The feeling of his clothed dick against you has sparked a feeling of need in you that you’ve never felt.

He shakes his head, throwing it back against the headrest, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. His grip slightly loosens on your hips but still tight on your dress as he allows you to grind down onto him. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as you let the pleasure of your movements take over.

He lets his eyes travel down to his crotch where there’s a large wet spot forming on his pants from your arousal. “Fuck…” He moans aloud and his dick throbs from the sight. He lifts your dress slightly and sees the outline of your lacy red underwear, his hands moving to grope your ass.

You’re panting against his neck and start to place soft kisses on his skin, eliciting more groaning from him. You reach your hand down to his belt, starting to unbuckle it.

“Y/N.” He says, stopping your hips firmly now. The tone in his voice makes you pull your head up and he’s trying to keep his resolve from completely slipping when he sees the way your eyes are blacked out in lust.

“I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready.” He says, searching your eyes for any hint of fear. He honestly didn’t expect an innocent kiss to turn into this.

You should’ve said no. You should’ve stopped it then and there, should’ve asked him to take you home.

Should’ve.

Could’ve.

Would’ve.

“Matt, I want this so bad right now. Please.” You whine, arousal clouding your mind and the feeling of your body on his is something you can’t refuse.

He gives in, his eyes on yours as he unbuckles his belt, and you lift slightly so he can pull his pants down just enough to the middle of his thighs. He guides you back down on him, this time so you sit around his left thigh.

You’re a little confused but he wraps his arms around your back, one of his hands tangling into the back of your hair as he holds you against him. “Just relax. Grind on me like you were doing earlier, baby. You were doing so good.” He instructs and the way he calls you baby has your heart fluttering in your chest.

He kisses you, and you do as he says, the feeling of his thigh tensing under you making your body heat with arousal again. You moan slightly, as you slide over him. He then pulls your panties to the side, so you’re bare against him, and the feeling has you both gasping.   

“Oh… my god.” You breathe, failing to kiss him back as you shamelessly moan his name. You feel a strong need inside you, and you let your body move against him fluidly, your wetness coating his thigh.

Matt knows what he’s doing. He knows it’s your first time and he wants you to be comfortable. Granted, the minivan might not be the classiest place, but he’s enjoying it if you are. He wants you to know what it feels like to have an orgasm all on your own (besides the help of his thigh) before he’s inside you. Before he absolutely ruins you.

You’re whimpering now, your hips picking up the pace as you chase a different kind of high. He feels incredible and you want to feel embarrassed at the way you’re getting off on his thigh right now but all you can think of is how good it feels.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he groans, his own eyes closing in pleasure at the way your pussy feels, slippery and warm on him.

“Matt…” You whine, and he presses his forehead to yours, his hands on your lower back, helping you ride him. “I know baby, let go. Its okay.” He says softly and the coil that’s been building for the past 20 minutes since he kissed you, finally releases and warmth floods your body. You moan loudly and feel yourself leaking on his thigh, your hips slowing down.

You’re out of breath as your movements stop, your heart still racing. “So good, baby. You did so good.” He whispers and you can see and feel how hard he is in his boxers, as your hands brush over him. He grabs your wrists before you can continue.

“Nuh uh.” He simply hums and lifts you up slightly. “Get in the back.”

The dominant tone in his voice causes butterflies again as you climb off him and into the back seat, laying down. He follows shortly after, unbuttoning his shirt so it’s completely open now and pulls his pants all the way off. He puts one arm above your head as he hovers over you, a dark look in his eyes.

His soft hand moves up your thigh, goosebumps erupting across your skin, and he pushes your dress up to your waist. Your red panties are stilled pulled to the side, the wetness from your previous orgasm coating you. He bites his lip, running his fingers through your folds. You gasp from the feeling, still a little sensitive from earlier.

“Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” He says and you nod, gripping onto his bicep.

He spreads your legs a little further, your knees against his waist and pushes a single fingertip inside you, slowly easing his finger in. There’s a little discomfort at first but it’s quickly replaced with pleasure when he starts pumping it in and out of you. He adds another finger, and you whimper at the feeling, this being completely different from when you were riding his thigh.

“You okay?” he asks, continuing to slide his fingers in you. “God, yes.” You moan, closing your eyes to the feeling. He smirks at your response and the sound of your wetness has him buzzing with arousal. He’s been incredibly attentive to you and patient, and his boxers are suffocating his achingly hard cock.

Your hips start to buck, as you crave more, his fingers starting to hit a spongy spot in your walls, a slow fire spreading within you. He removes his fingers completely, pushing your hips down.

You pout at the loss of contact, and he chuckles, pulling himself out of his boxers. “Not yet, sweetheart. Be patient for me.” He says and your eyes travel down to where he spreads your arousal from his fingers on his cock, stroking a few times to coat it.

You heard he was big but had assumed they were just silly rumors. You were so wrong.

You continue to stare, and he guides himself to your entrance, his hand now forcing your head up to look at him. “Eyes up here, baby.” He says, a smug smirk on his face.

He places a hand on your waist, his other hand still against the window above you as he pushes the tip into you. It’s a little overwhelming, and you’re not sure how he’s even going to fit all of it in you, but his touch relaxes you as he rubs soothingly over your hip, going as slowly as he can.

He’s halfway in, the burning already starting to disappear as he soon eases all the way into you, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you clench around him, the feeling of him snug in your walls.

“So fucking tight…” He groans, his jaw clenched and squeezes a little harsher on your hip. He leans down closer to you, his arm coming to rest next to your head. He stays still inside you, letting you adjust.

“Matt.” You moan, your hands moving into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes baby? You feel alright?” He checks.

“Yes. Please move.” You respond and he obeys your words gladly, pulling out almost all the way only to bury himself inside again. He makes slow, deep thrusts into you and the feeling has your head swimming, your thighs clenching around him, and your jaw dropped open slightly.

The feeling is indescribable, and he struggles to not cum inside you after only the first sixty seconds. That’s how good you feel around him, soaking wet and so tight.

The windows of the van are completely fogged, the air thick and hot. Your moans and whimpers are swallowed as he kisses you, his thrusts slowly picking up in pace. You both are speechless and there’s an unspoken realization between the two of you as your bodies move together in sync, your lips attached, breathing in each other’s air. The outside world has drifted away, the sweet bubble of pleasure and desire encasing you two.

“Matt.. I’m gonna cum again..” You warn, feeling the release build and build, your legs starting to shake.

“I know, Y/N. I want you to, please. Cum for me.” He responds and the movements of hips against yours are uneven now, his own release slowly crumbling. You cry out as you orgasm for the second time tonight, your walls clenching around him. He’s panting your name as he releases his seed into you at the same time, his fingertips leaving bruises on your hip.

“So fucking proud of you.” He murmurs, an exhausted smile on his face.

Mind shattering. Body numbing. Earth quaking, unforgettable sex. Nothing compared to it.

These are the memories flooding your mind as you sit on the leather couch, a cold drink in your hand, and your friend next to you, leaning over to talk into your ear over the loud music of the party. “No fucking way. Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?” She says and you take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. “Yup.”

Matt stands at the other side of the large living room, laughing with Chris and Nick and a few other people. He hasn’t noticed you yet, but as you keep your eyes on him, it’s as if he can feel you staring. He turns his head in your direction and once he makes eye contact with you, his smile falls, and for a second, he almost looks upset, his eyes lingering on you.

And then he looks away, whispering something to Chris and walks off, towards the hallway.

Of course, he would run away as soon as he saw you. He’s pathetic.

In fact, you feel pathetic thinking you wouldn’t run into him here in Boston, his hometown. At a party one of your mutual friends is throwing no less. But still, you were hoping, no, praying that the one time you decide to leave your house and socialize, you wouldn’t see him.

And now your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass, your head filled with old feelings you can’t escape. You hadn’t talked to Matt since that night, two years ago. You hadn’t even seen him since graduation. You avoided any video or clip of him that would come across your phone. You couldn’t bear to look at him.

You fucking hated Matthew Sturniolo. For many, many good reasons.

a/n: please dont come at me for making matt so mean in this one!! 😔 and if this flops ill be so sad lol i hope yall like it so far

taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn

[dragengyrr]

"Lose the jacket"…

More Alastor in dress from this post because I am completely normal about it (I’m not).

@prince-liest : answering previous asks, let’s establish now that if I mention you directly in my posts, you are free to link the art to your fics without asking (after all, it wouldn’t have existed without them). I’m pretty sure I’m not done with them. Cheers <3

Artist’s little side note (because I feel like rambling again): so Hazbin gave me two life improvements (well, three, if you add the music) - one was stepping foot into the unknown aroace territory and being hit on the head with realisation that it was my home all along, making my questionable behaviours and reactions in the past a whole lot less… weird. At least for me, the allos probably still thought I was weird af, but that’s their problem now.

Second improvement was discovering a cartoony style that just sits right with my hand. I’ve always loved cartoons, had a little nostalgic era at the end of high school where I went back to the stuff I’d watched as a kid (Jake Long, Ben 10, Kid vs Kat, Samurai Jack), then I was discovering shows that were made quite recently already as an adult (Over the Garden Wall, Gravity Falls, The Owl House), I loved them for various reasons… but every time I tried to play with their style, I couldn’t get past a few drawings.

I also never truly worked out my own cartoony style, so I thought I’d be stuck with realism for all eternity - which is not bad by any means, it’s just that added pressure of your own artistic ego whispering into your ear that if you misplace one tendon or muscle, or get the proportions wrong, you’ll likely burn down in some special part of hell, specifically for artists that are too lazy to check their anatomy atlas for every single drawing they make. Or maybe that’s just me.

The point is – I don’t remember the last time I produced so many drawings in such a short time, and it’s a blast. And I can focus on posing and emotions more than anything, thus learning new tricks, and it might improve my realistic art as well, right now limited by my fear of it somehow looking incorrect (because that would surely mean the end of the world).

-End of ramble-

[goldfades]

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 /𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐈'𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 -- / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝟑𝟎𝟎𝟓 ─ AF³⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | requested -> "wait i love ur fics!! can i request a one shot of azzi (aka sweet angel whose never done anything wrong in her life) and loud & chaotic!reader who were childhood friends and now have the cutest relationship ever?? like a huge opposites attract thingy where reader is a cheerleader and that popular kid, and brings azzi out of her shell? and maybe the team is a bit suspicious at first but just falls in love with their relationship really quickly"

─ warnings | nothing but sweet, good old fluff!!! literally so adorable, my fav thing i've written in a while. my fav trope! oblivious best friends to obnoxious lovers!! the girls being a little skeptical but slowly also falling in love w/ r because she brings out the best in az, mention of a confession but literally nothing else

─ word count | 1.8k

─ ev's notes | i love my azzi baby and she needs more love!!!!! fuck EVERYBODY who doesn't like her cause babygirl is so unproblematic, she's literally an angel and the heart of uconn so FUCK OFF anyways. also i love all my azzi girls sm i had to feed them too, mwah!!!!!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

THERE HAD NEVER been a time when Azzi wasn't by your side.

Since the day you'd met her back in the sixth grade, she was always by your side. There was never a day where you questioned her loyalty or her friendship. Through the ups and downs of adolescence, through the awkwardness of high school, and into the uncertainties of young adulthood, Azzi remained a constant presence in your life.

She always admired everything about you ─ there was never a moment where she was annoyed by your extrovertness or how much you liked to talk, she actually enjoyed it. Azzi was never much of a talker, she was more of a listener so she liked to let you take the lead in conversations, always content to listen to your stories, your dreams, and your worries. She found solace in the rhythm of your voice, in the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you loved.

While you were the outgoing one, always ready to dive headfirst into any adventure, Azzi was the steady presence by your side, offering quiet wisdom and unwavering support. She may not have been the loudest voice in the room, but her presence spoke volumes, grounding you when you felt like you were spinning out of control.

Azzi's strength wasn't just in her ability to be a steadfast companion; it was also in her capacity for understanding. She had a way of seeing beyond the surface, of understanding the complexities of your emotions even when you couldn't understand them yourself.

In her own quiet way, Azzi was the glue that held your relationship together. She didn't need grand gestures or flashy displays of affection to show how much she cared; her loyalty and devotion spoke for themselves.

"Az!" You shouted as you practically threw yourself into her arms. She laughed as she held you close to her chest, her arms wrapping around your body.

As you nestled into Azzi's embrace, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and happiness flood through you. Her laughter was like music to your ears, a melody that resonated deep within your soul.

It was finally summer and that meant it was her favorite time of year ─ spending every second with you. This was the second year you'd been separated because of college, so it wasn't entirely foreign but this year was a little harder than the last. She found herself missing you and thinking about you all the damn time, literally.

You could think of a couple reasons as to why, and one of them is because you'd both had confronted your long-time feelings for each other.

You both had danced around your feelings for each other for far too long, tiptoeing around the truth out of fear of ruining the beautiful friendship you shared. But as time went on, the pull between you grew stronger, until it became impossible to ignore.

The moment of truth came during a late-night conversation at your family's beach house, where words tumbled out in a rush of honesty and vulnerability. Azzi confessed her feelings for you, her heart laid bare for you to see. And to her relief and delight, you felt the same way. It felt like it was out of a movie; everything was perfect, Childish Gambino was playing through the speaker, the air felt just right and the waves whispered secrets in the background.

You pulled out of the hug with a grin as Azzi laughed again, putting her hands on your shoulders. "Damn, you're still short."

"Oh my god, we're still on this?" You let out a sigh, despite the sweet smile on your face. You've known each other since you were kids and still, her favorite thing to tease you about was your height.

And it wasn't even that you were abnormally short ─ she was just tall.

"What! I thought you woulda grown, sorry!" Azzi teased as you grumbled, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Well, you know what they say, good things come in small packages," you retorted with a smirk, earning another laugh from Azzi.

Azzi chuckled, giving you a playful shove. "Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, shorty."

Before you could respond, Azzi's name was being called from behind her. Azzi turned around to wave toward the group of girls, her teammates and friends from UConn. You'd met them one time before and that was at one of the championship games last year, and meeting them was a stretch ─ you'd waved at them.

As Azzi turned to greet her teammates, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness flutter in your stomach. You remembered the last time you had met them, feeling like a fish out of water among a group of award-winning athletes and accomplished individuals.

"I'm right here, guys," Azzi sighed as her friends walked toward her. "Y/N, this is Aubrey, Aaliyah and Nika. Oh, and Paige,"

Paige sent her a glare toward Azzi but before she could retort, Nika nudged her and smiled politely at you.

"Hi," you smiled as you looked up at Azzi for reassurance. She gave a warm smile as she pulled you closer to her side, squeezing you. "I'm Y/N,"

Azzi had never seen you so nervous, it was almost endearing to see. You'd always been the outgoing one, but in this moment, you seemed almost shy and uncertain. It was a side of you that Azzi hadn't seen often, and it made her heart swell with affection.

"You're even prettier in person," Nika spoke as she smiled. The girls all exchanged glances as Nika realized what she had just said, laughing. "What! I mean, we had to stalk Azzi's girl before we met her, it's just part of the process-"

"My god, Nika," Paige laughed as Azzi squeezed your shoulder.

You blushed under their gazes, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and flattery at Nika's comment. Azzi's gentle squeeze on your shoulder offered reassurance, grounding you in the moment.

"Thanks, you guys too. I'm a stalker too, don't worry. I'm practically your guys' biggest fan," you joked, trying to lighten the mood with a touch of self-deprecation. The tension eased as the group laughed, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

Aubrey grinned. "Well, I guess we're all in good company then."

Aaliyah nodded. "Absolutely. It's always nice to meet a fan."

"Hey, hey. She's actually my biggest fan, cause you know, she's my girlfriend." Azzi cut in as the group laughed. You glanced up at Azzi, your heart practically jumping at the word girlfriend. You were her girlfriend, and it sounded so perfect. You gazed up at Azzi, your eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, everything felt right.

"Absolutely, I have like 20 different jerseys" you chimed in, unable to hide the fondness in your voice as you leaned into Azzi's side.

Azzi laughed as she shook her head. "She's not joking, she probably has more than me."

"I've been collecting them since high school, cause I wanted to make sure everyone knew I was her biggest fan when she makes into the WNBA," you explained, a hint of pride coloring your words. The admiration and support you felt for Azzi were palpable, evident in the way you spoke about her with such reverence and affection.

"Our reservation is for 8 and it's 7:45, we should probably get going," Nika suggested, glancing at her watch.

Azzi nodded, casting a fond glance at you. "Yeah, let's head out."

With a collective agreement, the group began to make their way toward the restaurant, chatting and laughing as they went. Azzi slipped her hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked side by side. With a smile, you squeezed Azzi's hand, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for the amazing woman by your side.

At the restaurant, Azzi had her arm around you as the host led the group to their table. You felt a sense of warmth and comfort in Azzi's embrace, the simple gesture serving as a reminder of the deep connection you shared.

As you settled into your seats, the buzz of conversation continued around you, filled with laughter and shared stories. Azzi leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I'm so glad you're here with me."

You turned to her, a soft smile playing on your lips as you met her gaze. "Me too," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity.

Throughout the meal, Azzi's hand remained firmly entwined with yours, Azzi was at ease as she kept stealing glances your way, her eyes filled with adoration and affection. It was moments like these that reminded you why your bond with her was so special, why her presence in your life was irreplaceable.

Her friends could tell how absolutely whipped you both were for each other, it was obvious by the way you looked at each other.

They were all skeptical of you in the beginning, your instagram seemed too aesthetic and preppy for their taste, but as they got to know you, they realized there was much more depth to you than what your social media portrayed. You were genuine, kind-hearted, and fiercely loyal to Azzi, qualities that quickly won them over despite their initial reservations.

You brought out the laid-back, extroverted side of Azzi they rarely got to see. It was exciting to see, they loved seeing their girl happy and carefree in your presence. Your genuine affection for Azzi was evident in the way you looked at her, the way you made her laugh, and the way you supported her dreams and ambitions.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself engaged in lively conversation with Azzi's friends, sharing stories and laughter as you got to know each other better. With each passing moment, the initial skepticism faded away, replaced by genuine warmth.

And as you walked out of the restaurant next to Paige and Aubrey, the girls followed with smiles on their faces. Aaliyah pulled Azzi close as she caught her eye, a grin on her face.

"We took it up with the counsel and we approve," Aaliyah whispered as Azzi's face contorted into an amused expression.

"Bro, what do mean the counsel?" She repeated as they glanced toward the girls in front of them, who were now laughing at some joke Paige had made. "But thanks, it means a lot."

"We like her a lot," Nika chimed in, her voice filled with sincerity as she glanced back at you and Azzi walking behind them. "She's good for you, Az."

Azzi's heart swelled with affection for her friends as she wrapped an arm around Aaliyah's shoulders, pulling her into a tight side hug. "Thanks, guys. I'm really happy," she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "That means everything to me."

She was ecstatic that you fit into her life so perfectly (not like she ever doubted your people skills and your charm), and hearing her friends express their approval only confirmed what she already knew deep down: you were the one for her.

As you all walked together, surrounded by the laughter and warmth of her friends, Azzi couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over her.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[vivmaek]

Hi! I hope you’re doing good! Do all aspects and placements in someone’s chart make up their appearance? I’ve heard that it does, and I’ve heard that it doesn’t. Just curious to know :)

THE NATAL CHARTS RELATION TO PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Hi, I love this question! I can see arguments for both sides, but in my opinion I think all placements within someones chart make up appearance. I say this because our emotions and inner psychology directly affect physical appearance. And the same can be said for our physical environments. Here are some examples:

Gemini Saturn in the 12th House - Prone to getting bags under the eyes due to poor sleep. Struggles with anxiety and poor appetite.

Venus in the 2nd House - Having the resources to maintain ones appearance. Having access to high quality food, clothing, makeup, and skincare.

Neptune in the 8th House - Prone to drug usage, and is especially susceptible to the negative side effects. These types look spaced out and detached even if they have never used substances. They've probably been asked, "Are you high?" even if dead sober.

12th house stellium - Looks mysterious, even when you get to know them. No one ever truly knows a 12th house stellium. My life long friend constantly reveals details about her life that change the way I view her. And I never really know what she is up to, even when we were in each others daily lives. She travels more than any young person I know, yet remains humble and wise. 12th house stelliums are the ultimate mystiques, and this is an incredibly attractive quality.

1st House stellium - Their distinct personality overpowers whatever their physical appearance may be. Usually people attach traits onto others based on their physical appearance, but the reverse happens for 1st house stelliums. It is almost like they're cartoon characters, its like their personality and sense of character was developed before their physical form even came into existence. Their physical appearance suits who they are so well, I don't know how else to describe it.

Pluto in the 6th house - There are periods in which people with this placement will be overworked.

Scorpio Uranus in the 12th House - The wild card. Their subconscious state shifts drastically and changes unexpectedly, and this most definitely affects the ways in which they present themselves to the world.

Scorpio Mars in the 5th House - People with this placement are baddies. Cool af and might partake in some dangerous hobbies.

Chart ruler in the 4th House - Nostalgia frames the ways in which these people present themselves. Might have a timeless look about them.

Virgo Mercury in the 8th House - Could partake in hygienic practices that are diligent and maybe strange.

Cancer Saturn in the 5th House - Handyman vibes. Down to earth in their self expression.

Sun in the 3rd House - Seemingly youthful, the eternal student.

Strong 11th House placements - Their appearance is somehow associated with whatever group they belong to. This could be church, clubs, sports teams, humanitarian efforts. (For instance, Tom Cruise has his Jupiter in the 11th house and you can't look at him without thinking about Scientology.)

Strong 7th House placements - Tend to take on traits adapted from their relationships. They mirror people.

Uranus in the 9th House - Might end up living amongst a culture that differs from the one they grew up in. This will affect the ways in which people perceive their appearance.

Saturn Square Pluto - 😐 <- this face

Mercury Trine Pluto - 🤨 <- this face

Mars aspecting Uranus - Prone to accidents, bodily injury, scars.

[simpforboys]

dating canon!rafe…

warnings: mentions of aggression, mental health issues, swearing, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, and sexual themes. please seek help if you or someone you know is struggling.

you two met a kegger, and his deep blue eyes drew you in immediately

he was drawn to your body and looks for the most part. he truly believed you would be a cute little accessory on his arm, someone he could manipulate and use

he was high off of cocaine when he approached you, seeming completely out of it

but he was so persistent on taking you out, you accepted the kook prince’s advance

on the first date he was very touchy

he would touch your hips, thighs, arms

you didn’t really mind though, because it’d been awhile since you got laid and rafe was one of, if not the most attractive man on the island

you’d heard plenty of rumors and stories about the Cameron family, but didn’t really pay attention

you two slept together on the first date.

and then it became a regular thing. he would hit you up in the early hours of the morning, and every time you would go.

and he was an amazing fuck, so you didn’t really mind, but when you realized that all he cared about was your looks you freaked out on him

“don’t call me! don’t fucking text me, dick head!”

“oh save it, bitch!”

it took a couple weeks… until Rafe showed up at your house unannounced

you had your shirt taken off, another man kissing down your chest when Rafe literally busted the door down

he literally almost killed the guy. multiple punches thrown, kicks, and broken bones.

“get the fuck out, you worthless piece of shit! look at her again and i’ll kill you!”

that was the first time you’d really seen anyone have pure rage, and it scared you

Rafe finally asked you to be his girlfriend, and knew that you were scared to decline

a few months in, you met Ward, Rose, Wheezie, and Sarah. but it was very brief, as Rafe secretly didn’t want his family to ruin you

while at first he saw you as someone to benefit from, he started caring more and more about you

he would constantly need to know where you were. your location, who you’re with, etc.

if he finds out you lied he gets pissed

but the sex after is like….. meow

when all the pressure around getting the cross gets too much, and all the drama w his dad, he would get colder with you

like stop responding to your messages and just basically become distant

he would smoke and drink a lot to try to contain his emotions

but one night you showed up to Tannyhill unannounced and saw Rafe crying

his dad had basically just told him to “man up” for expressing that he isn’t okay mentally

and you were fucking pissed

your first thought was to show Ward Cameron your two fists, but you realized how bad Rafe was

for the first time ever, Rafe broke down in your arms

“i try so hard… i’ll never be one of his precious daughters. and it- it fucks me up. i’m not okay, y/n.”

“i know, Rafe. i’m here, okay? i’m here to help you.”

you held him all night while he sobbed, and the emotional side you saw to him made you reevaluate yourself

while you knew how fucking toxic he was- you couldn’t help but grow to love him

there were some moments where he was sweet. he would buy you flowers, gifts, shower you with affection

but then he would grow distant

you had a strong suspicion he was a sociopath, but you knew he was struggling

so you stayed. and every time you stayed

he only had gotten physical with you once. you were shouting rude things about his dad and he grabbed you roughly, his eyes full of rage

that was the first time you truly were scared of him, and he knew it

“Rafe-“

he would glare at you momentarily, then realize what he was doing and let you go

the next day he would bring you breakfast

he began to fall in love with you when he saw you with your little cousin

seeing how nurturing you were with your cousin made him realize how truly lucky he was to be with you, even through all the shit he’s put you in

so basically… rafe is toxic af but he kinda cares so

yes, i would marry you rafe. thank you. bye.

[alyrasturnz]

hii! I love your writing💕💕. I was wondering If you could write matt and bookworm!reader ? I hope you have a nice dayyy!

MY BOOKWORM

❐ summary » matt rarely finds solace in the written word, preferring the tangible world around him. y/n, on the other hand, is a dreamer, her heart and mind forever lost in the pages of books, where every story is a new adventure

❐ pairings » bf!matt x bookworm!reader

❐ warnings » none

❐ a/n && w/c » the workload this week is diabolical af  •  1.31k

┆ bf!matt who loves to watch you get lost in the pages of your favorite books, your eyes lighting up with every twist and turn of the story.

» "what's happening now?" he asks, his eyes studying your expressions intently, watching the way your brows furrow and your lips curl into a smile, even though he hasn't read the book.

"oh, it's so good!" you say, your excitement radiating through every word, making it almost tangible. "the main character just discovered a hidden passage."

he smiles, captivated by the way your animation brings the story to life, each gesture and expression a testament to your passion. "sounds intriguing. maybe i should read it next."

you laugh, the sound bubbling up like a spring, filling the air with a sense of joy that seems to ripple outward, "you haven't read a book since high school, matt."

"true," he confesses with a quiet intensity, "but for you, i'd read anything."

┆ bf!matt who surprises you with rare editions of your favorite books, his face lighting up with pride when he sees your reaction.

» matt entered the room, his steps deliberate and measured, a wrapped package held carefully in his hands. "hey, i have something for you. i think you'll like it," he said, his voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of excitement, like the first hint of dawn breaking through the night.

your eyes widened with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "what is it, matt?" you inquired, your hand extending towards the mystery that lay within his grasp.

he extended the package towards you, a grin slowly spreading across his face like the rising sun. "open it and see for yourself," he urged, his voice brimming with anticipation.

with eager hands, you meticulously tore open the wrapping paper, each tear revealing more of the treasure within. as the final piece fell away, a rare edition of your favorite book lay before you, its presence almost surreal. your breath caught in your throat. "oh my gosh, matt! this is incredible!" you exclaimed, your voice a mixture of astonishment and joy.

matt's face illuminated with a radiant pride, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "i knew you'd love it. i found it at a little bookstore and just had to get it for you."

overwhelmed with gratitude, you enveloped him in a warm embrace, your emotions pouring forth in an unspoken gesture of appreciation. "thank you so much! this means the world to me," you whispered.

he held you close, his embrace firm yet gentle, his voice a soft whisper that seemed to wrap around your heart. "seeing you this happy is all the thanks i need."

┆ bf!matt who listens intently as you excitedly recount the latest chapter you’ve read, even if he doesn’t fully understand the plot, simply because he loves hearing you talk about what you love.

» matt's eyes were fixed on you as you excitedly recounted the latest chapter you'd read. his expression was soft, a gentle smile playing on his lips, as if your words were the sweetest melody. you paused for a moment, noticing his intense gaze, and tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. 

"are you even listening?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, your voice carrying a mix of amusement and mild exasperation.

matt blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. "of course," he replied, though the slight hesitation in his voice betrayed him. 

you narrowed your eyes playfully, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "then tell me what happens next," you challenged, crossing your arms and leaning back a little, waiting for his response.

he let out a small sigh, his smile turning sheepish. "okay, fine," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "i might have gotten a bit lost in your words... but i just love listening to you talk about your books."

┆ bf!matt who gently teases you about the stack of books on your nightstand, but secretly loves how passionate you are about reading.

» matt strolled into your room, his gaze immediately locking onto the towering stack of books on your nightstand. with a playful grin, he raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "are you planning to read the entire library?" he teased, his voice light and affectionate.

you rolled your eyes, a knowing smile beginning to tug at your lips. "hey, a girl can never have too many books," you retorted, your arms crossing in a gesture of playful defiance.

matt chuckled softly, his laughter a warm, comforting sound. he stepped closer, his hands gently encircling your waist as he pulled you into an embrace. "i know, i know. it's just impressive how you manage to juggle so many stories at once," he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

you shrugged, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "i just love getting lost in different worlds, you know?" you murmured, your eyes momentarily drifting to the stack of books as if each one held a universe waiting to be explored.

he reached out, his fingers delicately brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "and i love how passionate you are about reading," he said softly, his eyes shimmering with admiration. "it’s one of the many things that make you so incredible."

your cheeks warmed at his words, and you couldn't help but smile, a soft blush spreading across your face. "thanks, matt. and for the record, i might need a new bookshelf soon," you replied, your eyes twinkling with a mix of gratitude and playful anticipation.

he laughed, the sound rich and full, before pulling you into a warm embrace. "i'll help you build it," he promised, his voice a soothing murmur against your ear, as if sealing a pact between kindred spirits.

┆ bf!matt who occasionally reads you to sleep. each sentence he utters is a lullaby, a melodic cadence that dances through the air, wrapping you in a cocoon of comfort and serenity.

» the room was bathed in a subdued luminescence, the bedside lamp's soft glow casting intricate, whispering shadows upon the walls. you were nestled comfortably under the covers, your form gently molded against matt's, his back supported by the headrest. 

your body reclined against his, as if he were a living, breathing mattress, the book resting delicately on your lap. his arms enveloped you from behind, a tender embrace that spoke of unspoken promises and silent serenades.

matt's voice was a soothing melody, weaving an intricate symphony of words that cascaded through the air like a gentle stream, each syllable resonating with a calming cadence that lulled the senses into a state of serene tranquility.

you let out a contented sigh, your eyelids growing increasingly heavy as the tendrils of sleep began to weave their way through your consciousness. "you always know how to make bedtime feel magical, matt."

he smiled, a gentle curve gracing his lips as he closed the book softly, the pages whispering secrets as they met. "it's my favorite part of the day, getting to share these moments with you," he murmured, his voice a tender caress in the quiet room.

you reached out, your fingers intertwining with his in a delicate dance. "i love it too. it makes me feel so at peace," you whispered, your touch conveying a depth of emotion that words alone could scarcely capture.

matt set the book aside with a gentle thud and slid under the covers, enveloping you in his embrace. "sweet dreams, love," he whispered, his breath a warm caress against your ear, filling the space with a tender intimacy.

you snuggled closer, feeling the enveloping warmth and safety of his embrace. "goodnight, matt," you murmured, your voice a soft whisper as you drifted into the realm of dreams, the echo of his voice still resonating in your mind.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @frozenpeanutbutterr @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr @sturnobsessedwh0re @cerismo

[kyber-crystal]

Hi! May I request a sequel to "my little love" for how jake responds to max calling him dad/daddy for the first time? or jake being cute with max and your shared kids (bc i KNOW y'all don't stop after the first one lol)

i'm sorry it took me so long to respond to this but HELL YEAH and i'm extra sorry i didn't post this for a while b/c i wasn't sure about how it turned out in general...anyways, i hope you enjoy : ')

my future || jake "hangman" seresin

summary: as written above! this is a sequel to the headcanon my little love, which i LOVED writing w my whole heart.

settling into married life was surprisingly not difficult. you'd already spent so much time around hangman that forever felt so comfortable

now everyone is so happy and in high spirits. but max is significantly happier than them all and it's so wholesome to see

rooster, or "fairy godmother" (max likes to call him the latter....yes...godmother, not godfather. you don't know why but it's so funny, especially when you watch rooster react to this), is always there to take care of your kiddo when you're busy

he let him sit in his F-14 and take a picture with him :)

and you're paranoid and worrying the whole time but rooster's like "relax, i got him" and he's super chill about it

"he's gonna be a pilot. better than you, even," you leaned over and gave your husband a look

"i think so!"

the kid lives and breathes top gun. and now that you've moved in with hangman, you're only a few minutes' walk from base, making it easy to go back and forth.

when you're working at the hard deck, penny sits him by the nearest booth with a milkshake and some old books and toys

if one of the uncles or phoenix wasn't busy, they'd come over to keep him entertained

and you know when hangman's done for the day when you see max break into his signature grin. you've noticed that you only really see it around him

so you're celebrating his fourth birthday today. it's insane, because he already speaks like a six year old (hangman says it's because you're also smart af. but, being the cocky lil shit he is, fanboy likes to take the credit for it. i mean, the guy majored in biochem, so he knows his stuff)

it's an off day for everyone, so they're able to come help decorate the place. you had the idea to surprise your son, so while everyone was getting ready, fanboy was with max by the beach, playing soccer. they'd come back in an hour and boom!

by the end of things, the hard deck doesn't look like the hard deck anymore. it looks like max's paradise—a kiddie version of top gun, you realize. your heart melts because 🥺🥺🥺

everyone hides when they hear fanboy and max coming in

and then you all jump up from your hiding spots and yell "SURPRISE" and he starts grinning again

and then the kid runs straight towards hangman, giggling in pure delight

"daddy!" he yells

you're all like wait wtf

did he just

say

oh

hangman has to stop for a moment before picking him up. you can see him tearing up bc this is the first time max has ever said this

it's definitely really fulfilling to watch. when he was a baby and screamed and cried for hours at a time out of nowhere, you knew it wasn't always just from tiredness. or being hungry. or whatnot

the rest of the night you're all emotional af and max notices

"daddy why are you crying?"

there go the waterworks...more tears slip down jake's face 🥺😭

"because i'm happy!"

"people cry when they are sad! like when uncle fanboy loses to uncle payback!"

"HEY! kid, i thought you were on my side"

"so, i'm your dad now, huh?"

"forever and ever and ever and ever!"

how could you have gotten so lucky...

you're sitting here in the middle of the hard deck with your family. a family when realization hits. you had a loving husband, and a father, and a child that brightened up your world, and you couldn't have asked for anything more. you finally found someone that wanted forever and wasn't one to back away

now for some more cute moments post-birthday celebration

you take max to base every day right

and hangman will carry him on his shoulders all the time

if he's not done with his flight or workout or whatever, maverick takes his place

or his fairy godmother :)

as soon as he lands, max takes off at the speed of light and goes barreling towards him (how tf is the kid so FAST)

as hangman picks him up he looks at you and says "can we please have another kid. please"

"i want a sister! tell her, daddy!"

"see, the little man agrees"

sorry this ending was so awful i genuinely apologize...

tags, including people who may be interested: @totomoshi​ @sarcastic-sourwolf​ @sebastianstangirl01​ @altheadarling​ @ellabellabus07​ @hay-9105​ @purelyfiction​ @93joons​ @criminalyetminimal​ @yeehawnana​ @lunamoonbby​ @hazelgirl355​ @multifandom-fangirl4​ @paintballkid711​ @lyn-lc​ @whatlovegattado​ @azari-anna​ @thelifeofthelifeofme​ @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel​ @quivvyintheclouds @phoenixhalliwell @winteryoungie @mychoso @lt-b-rooster-bradshaw​ @jenny-riversmith​ @krisitzeneva​ @daethsticks​ @sithwidow​ @rosie-posie1313​ @sadpetalsstuff​ @glossydi0r​ @i-simp-much​ @hay-9105​ @meeeeees-stuff​ @sweetdayme4427​ @unicornlover92​ @intrxde​ @rhiannon-russo​ @dolce-clout​ @theghost1345​ @baby-girl-e​ @greatbigshiningstar​ @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy @julia-marshal @anya7802 @bittergomez @and-claudia @newlibrary @cosm1cfae

sorry if this doesn't seem updated! some tags include ppl who were tagged in part 1 of this blurb mini-series. if you'd like to be added to the taglist, comment or add yourself to the tgm taglist here!

[absolutebl]

Hey. Ty very much for your posts. As a woman in my 30s I got hypnotised by the beauty of the novelists and was wondering if you had similar high heat intense recommendations (also watched the samurai one "taboo"), bi or mlm with older leads and non fluffy storylines.. Moody atmospheric and venomous is my weak spot

Moody, atmospheric & venomous BL

Like, the Novelist? really?

AKA Pornographer movie series AKA The Novelist, Mood Indigo, Pornographer Playback (Japan 2018-2020) - emotional manipulation, cheating, obsession, seduction, May/December, kink, touch of necrophilia, explicit.   

Okay I got one right off the bat: seek ye....

The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese

AKA Kyuso wa Chizu no Yume wo Miru (Japan 2020) - obsession, cheating, breakup, reunion, then break up again, explicit, mature characters. 

Now let me think about some more:

high heat

intense

non fluffy

older leads

The last one is a doozy, so I'm not gonna use it as a qualifier. BL is most, well, about "boys" not men.

Some others that might work for you but don't meet all your criteria:

Your Name Engraved Herein (Taiwan 2020 Netflix) - this movie is fantastic but it is also seriously depressing, it’s a self acceptance journey, but if you wanna wallow in high quality acting and serious gay drama, this’ll do it. 

Innocent (Taiwan 2021 GaGa) - mental health, childhood trauma, actually kinda sweet. 

The Eighth Sense (Korea 2023 Viki - This isn’t in the KBL bubble, there’s sharp edges and lots of triggers. For a KBL the darkness of the content left me feeling unsettled but it's really damn good.

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho (Japan 2023 Gaga) - Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. They're hot, young, in love, and total idiots.

I Feel You Linger in the Air (Thai 2023 grey or YT) - IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, elegant and classy… from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, it gets hot more that explicit, but it does have sharp edges.

Tokyo in April is AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa (Japan 2023 Viki) - Two young men with a shared tragic past reunite and fall in love all over again, but the past will not stop hunting them. It’s Japan in full on soft focus which means it gets emo, abusive, and chewy. These two characters are giving parts of their souls away in a desperate attempt to shape themselves to the expectations they have of each other it's heavy and cutting.

Moonlight Chicken (Thai 2023) - I enjoyed this complicated little show, even though it’s spectacularly messy gay with lots of shrapnel and authentic pain. EarthMix turn in their most compelling performance to date.

Bed Friend (Thai 2023 IQIYI) - Office frienamies transition a flaming hot one night stand into a f-buddy relationship that is built on a puppy/cat dynamic (and kinks into it at one point). Our puppy is loyal, smitten, and protective with endlessly longing eyes, while our cat is snarky, prickly, and deeply damaged (ALL THE TRIGGERS). NetJames give lovely high-heat with excellent chemistry and tuned-in performances of surprising depth.

Big Dragon (Thai 2022 Gaga) - This is a decent execution of true enemies to lovers, these two spy on and bully each other, exploring darker themes and self worth issues. The way the leads transition between anger, resentment, titillation, and flirting (and the way, with kinksters, this can all be the same thing) is really well done. A pairing that proved itself to be a lot more sophisticated than I expected with excellent chemistry, but something went askew around plot, directing, and ending. Still if you're in it for the sexy, go to, they did.

My Beautiful Man AKA Utsukushii Kare (Japan 2021 Gaga - One of the most Japanese BLs to release in the last decade, as weird and as messed up as any 2000′s yaoi: emo af and hella warped, entirely true to itself with no attempt made to modify its POV for modern sensibilities or current BL fandom. It used seriously old school problematic and kinky tropes, like whipping boy, for a truly uncompromising piece that also manages to hit up themes of communication, consent, and self acceptance. It’s a wonderful BL but uniquely dirty and harsh, in the best possible way - Japanese cinema, uncompromising.

End of the World With You

Junjou: Pure Heart

The Egoist

No thoughts on those three, not my thing.

You also might consider some of the stuff on this list:

Hope that gives you some options!

[melissacameron4]

Revelation S.R.

Summary: based on the Criminal Minds episode Revelation (2x15)

Y/N Hotcher (Little Hotch) x eventual Spencer Reid

Warnings: angst, Spencer being tortured, Tobias Henkel, usual Criminal Minds stuff?, swearing, reader/I being really angry at the world because she loves Spencer but won't admit it, friends to lovers, emotions, idk if I am missing anything

LONG AF AND NOT PROOFED

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

“Where’s Spencer?” I asked, looking around the farm. “And JJ?”

“I don’t know, come check out the barn with me and Prentiss.” Morgan told me. We made our way to the barn and when we opened it, JJ pointed her gun at us, eyes wild.

There was a lot of commotion with trying to get JJ to lower her gun. I noticed the dead dogs. Jezebel. Oh God.

“Tobias Henkel is the unsub.” JJ told us once she realized it was us.

“We know,” I said gently.

“We just thought he was a witness. I had to kill them.” She said referring to the dogs. I glanced at the dead animals again and rubbed my temples. “There’s nothing left.”

“JJ, where’s Spencer?” I asked her but she didn’t answer me.

“JJ, look at me,” Prentiss prompted. JJ focused on her. “Where’s Reid?”

“Oh, uh, we split up. He went around back.”

I ran back outside to tell Dad and Gideon that we found JJ but not Spencer.

"Dad,” I called, running up to him. “Dad, JJ was in the barn, but Spencer’s not.”

“We searched the rest of the property and the house and he’s not there either. Neither is Henkel.”

“So,” I gulped, looking at my dad. “So where’s Spencer?”

“I don’t know. But we will find him.” Dad promised me.

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

I was standing with JJ and Emily by the ambulance while they checked JJ out.

“Hey, any sign of him?” Prentiss asked Morgan and he shook his head.

"You can't find Reid?" JJ asked, confused.

"Not yet," Prentiss told her.

"Prentis, Little Hotch." Derek pulled us away from JJ. "I think Reid followed him into the cornfield, it looks likes somebody got dragged." I rubbed my temple, trying to push away the stress migraine that was impounding.

"Hey, what's going on?" Prentiss asked the officer who just got off the phone.

"The sheriff two towns over. He just gave directions to a man who fit Henkel's description. It's to a motor lodge in Fort Bend."

"Let's get Hotch and Gideon." Morgan said and I went back to JJ.

After hours of not finding Spencer, morning came which brought Penelope too.

"You know they do have hotels in Georgia." She told me and Aaron.

"There's no sense splitting time between here and a field office." He told her, ushering her into the house.

"Right." She agreed warily, looking around the property.

"Think of the house as a witness," He explained to her. "If it could talk, what would it tell us?"

"My guess is it would tell us to get the hell out." She responded.

We made our wait into the main living room and JJ greeted Penelope with, "Welcome to our nightmare."

"His computer is an extension of his brain," Gideon told her. "I need you to dissect it."

"I'll get you set up, come on." Derek told her, taking her to where the computers were at.

"I'll come with," I mumbled, walking past my dad and everybody else, to go with Penelope and Morgan.

The rest of our team filled Dad in on everything, but there was no evidence pointing where Spencer and the unsub could be.

"Okay, right out the gate, the guy is self taught." Penelope told us. "His mainframe is totally idiosyncratic, but it's pretty brilliant."

"Talk to me about what this son of a bitch watches online. What the hell is all of this?" Morgan told her, trying his best to figure out the computers and how we could use it to help us know Henkel better.

"It's tame stuff, video games, software sports. Seriously, if I had to guess whose system this belongs to, I would say a crazy smart high school kid."

"Well clearly it's not Penelope. Can you please find us something that will help us find Spencer?" I snapped before walking out the room and back outside.

I hated this. How could Spencer have gotten so far away so fast? Where the hell was he being held? Please God, I begged, please bring him back to me. Please. I hadn't prayed in years, especially with my mom and dad fighting, but I knew we had a slim chance at getting Spencer back, and God was probably the only person to bring him to me.

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

"Hey guys!" Morgan called to us, I looked up at him from where I was sitting with Gideon on the steps. "I think I got something."

I ran over to where he was and he found a cellar.

I pulled out my gun as Morgan opened the door. "Tobias Henkel, FBI!" Dad and I followed him inside. We got our flashlights out and searched the ice cellar. "Tobias Henkel! Tobias!"

Dad moved closer to the unmoving body. "I think we just found Henkel's father." Well, shit.

We made our way out of the cellar and let CSI do their thing while we went back into the house.

"You need to get some sleep." Gideon told me and I rolled my eyes. "Sometimes it felt like I had two dads between Hotch and Gideon.

"I'm fine."

"When was the last time you slept?" JJ asked me.

"When was the last time for you?" I snapped back, my anger seeping through. I wanted to find Spencer. I wanted him back.

"Y/N, you need to get some sleep." Dad told me and I stomped my foot.

"Is that an order?" I demanded, looking my dad square in the face.

"Yeah, it is." He shot back and I threw my gun on the table, making JJ jump at the noise. I went into the living room and grabbed my blanket and my dad's pillow from the corner and laid on the floor to take a nap. There was no way in hell I was sleeping on any of the furniture here. After a few minutes, I felt JJ come sit by me, resting her back against the couch.

"I'm sorry." She muttered.

"I'm sorry too." I muttered back.

"I'm so stressed out that I can't sleep." She admitted after a few minutes.

"I can't either. I just want to find him." I relented.

"I saw you guys, at the club. You danced."

"Liquid courage fixes a lot of the world's problems. Sometimes."

"You guys would be cute together."

"You must be sleep deprived."

"I know what I saw at the club. You both like each other, you're practically dating anyways, why not just make it official?" And with that thought running through my brain, I fell asleep.

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

"Morgan just told me that he thinks the stressor is the father's death, which happened about six months ago." Dad told me and Gideon as we sifted through the papers.

"So basically he has split personality disorder?" I banged my head on the table.

"This journal is filled with religious ramblings." Morgan told us, coming into the room with the journal. "He notates hour by hour. November 15th, 3:17 - if ye offer a sacrifice of peace offering unto the Lord, ye shall offer it at your own will. And it goes on and on. 5:04, 7:41, 10:22, 1:42. But then it goes blank for days."

Morgan handed me the journal and I looked at it, getting a sense of who Henkel was. Dad put a hand on his head, thinking. "Maybe he got sick of writin'," The sheriff suggested.

"I think I got it," Dad said, and I looked at him hopefully.

"What is it?" Gideon asked him.

"Yeah, Dad, what did you figure out?"

"Journal entry - December 6th - father sick, wants me to put him down. I say, "Thou shalt not kill," He says, "Honor thy father." Must pray for guidance." Oh. So he killed his dad...

Before I could finish my thought, Gideon interrupted. "So he kills his father as an act of mercy?"

"Some sick sort of mercy." I muttered, flipping through the journal in my hand before giving it back to Morgan.

"This is two months ago. Tobias Henkel's father had been dead for four months already." Dad told us.

"That's exactly it. Look at the floor," Morgan told us, pulling a chair out for us to see. "These scuff marks are fresh." He was right, they were. "I mean it's like two people were moving the chairs constantly, trying to fight for control."

"So?" The sheriff asked.

"This journal matches Charles Henkel's handwriting, but it was written after he died. Upstairs, Tobias' bedroom - it's got junk puled from the floor to the ceiling, but the other bedroom could pass a military inspection." Morgan explained.

"So are you telling me, one of Tobias' personalities was his father?" The sheriff asked, trying to make sense of this situation.

"Well," Gideon put in, "Tobias was raised with a strict religious code - black and white - right and wrong. When his father asked Tobias to kill him, something had to give."

"And his brain couldn't handle the moral contradiction, so it split into two personalities." Dad said.

"To keep his father alive." I finished.

"So... who is Raphael?" The sheriff asked, confused.

"My guess - he's a mediator between the two. Angels have no human emotions. Live or die, they don't care, as long as it's God's will."

"We need to start profiling Tobias' father. He may be the one who chose where to take Reid."

"I'll get Penelope on it." I said, standing up and walking to the computer room.

"Pen, I need you to log into the system as Tobias' father."

"The system was set up three months ago. The dad was already dead."

"She knows that, smarty pants, but do it for your favorites anyway, alright?" Morgan said, coming in behind me.

"Okay," Penelope said, starting to type.

"Charles Henkel." Derek told her.

Tons of horrifying imagines and videos showed up on the screen. I closed my eyes and cracked my neck. This was going to be bad.

"Woah," Penelope said trying to take it all in.

"He's crazy." I mumbled. "Like crazy crazy. I can't imagine having split personalities, let alone, one of them be insane."

After a few minutes of Penelope trying to do her thing, the computers went blank.

"What happened?" Morgan asked her, confused.

She wasn't much help because she was equally confused. "I don't know?"

"What do you mean, you don't know?" I demanded, scared.

All of a sudden on most of the screens, Spencer showed up. He was bound to a chair beaten and bloodied.

"Oh my god." Penelope said, taking the words straight from my mouth.

"Guys! Guys!" Morgan shouted to the team. "Get in here!"

"He's been beaten." Prentiss said, assessing him.

"Can't you track him?" JJ asked, confused. I put a hand over my mouth, trying to remain composed.

"Henkel's only streaming this to his home computer." Penelope told them.

"This is for us, for Y/N, he knows we're here."

"I'm gonna put this guy's head on a stick." Morgan spat, angry.

"Why can't you locate him?" Dad asked Penelope.

"He's rerouting to a different I.P Address every thirty seconds. I can't track him."

"Can you really see inside men's minds?" Tobias asked Spencer. "See these vermin. Choose one to die. I'll let you choose one to live."

"No," I gasped at Spencer'svoice.

"I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior." Tobias said.

"You're a sadist ina psychotic break. You won't stop killing. Your word's not true." Spencer told him, trying to snap him out of the personality he was in. Tobias was either Raphael or his father at the moment.

"The other heathens are watching. That whore of yours, she's watching. Choose a sinner to die, and I'll say the name and address of the person to be saved."

"I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like poacher." Playing into the fantasy. Good job, Spence, I thought.

"Can you really see into my mind, boy?" Tobias demanded lifting Spencer out of the chair. I gasped audibly, grabbing onto Gideon's arm. "Can you see I'm not a liar?" He yelled. "Choose one to die, and save a life. Otherwise, they're all dead."

"Alright," Spencer gave in, not wanting more people than necessary to die. "I'll choose who lives."

"They're all the same." Tobias spat at him.

"Far right screen." Spencer finally said.

"Marilyn David, 4913 Walnut Creed Road." Tobias said.

"You got that?" Dad asked Penelope.

"Yeah." She said, typing her fastest on the computer.

Gideon typed the phone number on a phone and it dialed.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end said.

"Marilyn David. My name is Jason Gideon. I'm with the FBI."

"What?" She said alarmed, Gideon told her to turn her computer off immediately and she did so.

"You're Raphael." Spencer said. Before anything else could happen, the screen went dark. Morgan walked out of the room, angry, and punched the door. I gripped JJ's hand hard, needing the contact to stay grounded.

"So now what? We wait for a 911 call, and hope we get there in time?" The sheriff asked.

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

When the next victims were killed, Dad, Gideon and I went to the crime scene.

"Slaughtered, same as the others. We've got roadblocks for a fifteen mile radius. Every unit's on the road, but so far nothing." I pushed the stray hairs out of my face and looked at the crime scene.

"I don't know how much longer Reid can hold out," Dad said quietly, giving in to his fear that Spencer might not make it.

"Who were the victims?" Gideon asked, ignoring Dad.

"Pam and Mike Hayes. He was a local defense attorney."

"And what Bible passage was left?" Gideon asked another question. I went and stood next to him.

"Isaiah 59. No one calls for justice, "no one pleads their case with integrity. They rely on empty arguments, they utter lies they conceive trouble and give birth to evil."

Gideon got close to the camera, "Reid, if you're watching, you're not responsible for this. You understand me? He's perverting God to justify murder. You are strong than him. He cannot break you."

"We're not getting any closer." Dad told us.

"Reid's brilliant. He'll figure out how to survive." Gideon said, trying to reassure us, himself included.

"You know, I always take advantage of Reid for his brain, but I never actually teach him how to deal with things emotionally."

"Lead by example." Gideon responded.

"What kind of example is that?" Dad asked.

"He'll make it."

"He has to." I whispered. "He has to make it." God, I prayed. Bring him back to me. Please just bring him back to me.

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

"We can trace their whole family history." Morgan said, looking at the evidence board we made up. "Here we got happy, smiling pictures of Tobias. Report cards all As and Bs, but as an eight year old, we get nothing."

"That's his mother leaving." Prentiss said from her spot next to me. "Six months later, on the other side of the board, we have a form from child services saying they paid a visit."

"Then Charles starts keeping journals about punishing sinners and needing to remove the devil from his son." I added. "Which corresponds to Tobias' drug use. He's trying to escape."

"So wherever Reid is, it was Tobias' choice, not this fathers." Morgan told us.

"How do you figure?" Prentiss asked him.

"Look at these two lives." Morgan pointed out. "They're like inverse graphs. One's getting weaker while the other one's getting angrier. Tobias would run away, his father would have stood and fought."

"Okay, so Tobias uses drugs as an escape. I'll go back through the journals with Y/N and see if we can find anything connecting his drug use to a hiding place."

"Uh, where's Gideon?" JJ asked walking into the room.

"He's upstairs. Why? What's going on?" Morgan asked her. JJ glanced at me before responding.

"Henkel's jut posted the latest murder."

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

We all gathered in the computer room to watch. It was horrific. Absolutely horrific. In everyway imaginable.

"I don't understand, why can't we just shut it down?" Gideon asked, pacing, confused by technology.

"Because I can't pinpoint his IPF." Penelope tried to explain.

"Just remove it once he sends it." Jason told her.

"It doesn't work like that." I said. "It's the internet."

"It's the internet, sir. Like Y/N said. Once something's out there, you can never take it back."

"It must remain. You can't undo anything."

"Right, you can't once it's up. Once it's up, it's up forever."

"I hate technology. Can you please do something? Anything? I do not want him thinking he has a pulpit."

"I have a list of everyone from the file-sharing chain. I could send out a mass warning that the video is actually a virus. I'm gonna do that. Okay." Penelope sent it out.

After a few moments, Tobias, as Charles, started streaming live again. "Do you think you can defy me?" Tobias said.

"I don't know what he's talking about." Spencer pleaded with him.

"You're a liar! You're pitiful! Just like my son. This ends now." I gasped when he pulled the gun on Spencer. "Confess your sins. Confess!" He hit Spencer in the face, making me cry out.

"I haven't don anything! Tobias, help me!" Spencer begged. I covered my mouth, tears streaming down my face.

"He can't help you. He's weak." Tobias, as Charles, said to him.

"Tobias!" Spencer cried.

"Confess your sins!" Tobias, as Charles, demanded again.

"Help!"

"Oh my god. He's killing him." Penelope said. I put the other hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my cries as Spencer started choking and the chair toppled over with him in it. He was dying. Actually dying.

Gideon stormed out and Dad, Prentiss, JJ and Morgan raced in. I hugged Dad tightly as Penelope explained what happened. Dad pulled away and went to get Gideon. I continued to silently cry. God, please, please save him. Let him come back to me. Please. I kept praying it over and over in my head, hoping He was listening.

Tobias came back into the room and started performing CPR on Spencer. Eventually after a few rounds, Spencer started coughing and breathing. I let out a strangled cry before clamping my mouth shut.

"Wait, wait a second." Prentiss said. "When was the last video posted?"

"9:23." Penelope responded.

"And - and what was the time of death?" She asked.

"The 911 call came in at 9:04 and the murder must have been moments later." Dad told her.

"That's only a 19 minute difference!" I said, looking over at JJ who nodded.

"How long would it take to post the mpeg?" Morgan asked Penelope.

"Two or three minutes." Penelope mumbled, guessing.

"Let's call it two." Morgan said.

"You figure a maximum of 60 miles an hour in a residential area." I piped up again. "That means Henkel has to be within a seventeen mile radius of the crime scene."

"Garcia, can we see it on a map?" Dad asked her and she did what he asked and pulled it up on the computer.

"Call Farrady." Gideon said. "I want that area locked down like it's martial law." JJ got up to go call him.

"Guys."

"You came back to life." Tobias said as Raphael.

"Raphael." Spencer said.

"There can only be one of two reasons." He declared.

"I was given CPR." Always with the science.

"There are no accidents. How many members are on your team?" Tobias, as Raphael, asked.

"Excluding me, seven."

"The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown down to earth."

"He thinks it's Revelation. The seven archangels versus the seven angels of death." Dad said, understanding the unsub.

"Tell me who you serve." Tobias, as Raphael, demanded. Pulling Spencer up to sitting.

"I serve you." Spencer croaked.

"Then choose one to die." My eyes widened in fear.

"What?" Spencer asked, confused, trying to stall and come up for time.

"Your team members - choose one to die." He repeated himself.

"Kill me." Spencer pleaded. What?

"You said you weren't one of them." He reminded Spencer.

"I lied."

"Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies!"

"No!" I grabbed Dad's arm in a panic when he pulled a gun on Spencer. Dear God, please save him. Please save him. Please. Please Please.

He rolled the chamber of the gun. "Choose, and prove you'll do God's will."

"No." He clicked the gun. Dad used his free hand to cover his mouth.

"Choose." Tobias, as Raphael, demanded.

"I won't do it." Spencer told him, looking him square in the face. He shot again, but no bullet came out.

"Life is a choice."

"No." The gun clicked again. No bullet.

"Choose."

"I... I choose Aaron Hotchner." There was a moment of relief before Spencer started talking. "He's a classic narcissist. He think's he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4. "Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense. In emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense."

Tobias, as Raphael, took the bullet out of the camber. "For God's will." and put it back in and spun it.

We all walked out into the main room. "I'm not a narcissist." Dad said.

I looked at Gideon and then my dad. "Come on. Look. You can't take anything from that. He's not in his right mind, Hotch."

"Dad, he's trying to live." I pointed out.

"No. Stop. Stop." Dad said. "Alright, everybody right now - what's my worst quality?" Nobody said anything. "Okay, I'll start. I have no sense of humor."

"You're a bully." JJ said, referring to how he treats unsubs.

"I'm a bully," He agreed.

"You can be a drill sergeant sometimes." Morgan said.

"Right." Dad agreed.

"You don't trust women as much as men." Prentiss said.

Dad looked at me to say something but I shook my had. I wasn't going to say anything back about my dad.

"Okay, good." He relented. "I'm all of these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't ever."

"You don't, Dad." I agreed with him. Not sure where he was going with this, I indulged him nevertheless.

"I don't. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that. And he also quoted Genesis chapter 23 verse 4." He picked up one of the many Bibles around the house and handed it to me. "Read it."

"I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may burry my dead out of my sight." I read from the Bible.

"He wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose." Dad scoffed, knowing that Spencer tricked Tobias/Charles/Raphael.

"He's in a cemetery." Morgan concluded.

"I don't see a cemetery." Prentiss said, looking a the map on Penelope's screen.

"Call up the first time we saw Reid." Gideon thought aloud. Penelope did what he asked. "I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher."

"Check to see if there's any poaching in the last couple days." I demanded, pacing back and forth in the back of the room.

"Okay, uh." Penelope typed as fast as she could. "A farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property."

"Where are we talking?" Morgan asked. She pulled it up on the map.

"What's that patch of green there?" JJ asked her.

I moved closer to the computer, wedging myself between Dad and Gideon.

"Marshall Parish. I think that it's an old plantation." Dad said.

"Wait." Prentiss said.

"Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from the Marshall." My brain rapid fired.

"Guy's there's a cemetery on the grounds." Penelope told us.

We all rushed to the vehicles.

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

"Spread out! They have to be on foot! Let's go!"

"Spencer!" I screamed. "Spencer! Spencer!" I screamed when I heard the gun shot. I ran towards the noise, everybody else right with me.

"You alright?" Dad asked Spencer after getting him on his feet. I stared at him blankly. He was here. He was alive. He was here.

"I knew you'd understand." He told Dad, hugging him before moving on to JJ.

"I am so sorry." She told him. I put my hands on my face and tried to remain calm. He was alive. He was alive. Thank you God. Thank you for bringing him back to me. Thank you.

"It's alright. It wasn't your fault."

"Let's get you out of here." Gideon said, reaching for Spencer. Spencer pushed away from him and into my arms. I burst into tears.

"I'm okay, you saved me." He mumbled into my hair. "I'm okay."

I clutched to him, holding onto him tightly. “Please don’t leave me again.” I begged. “Please.” I bagged my hands in his shirt.

“I won’t. I’m okay.” He repeated pulling away after a few minutes.

“Okay, let’s get you to an ambulance.” Gideon said again.

“Please - can I have a minutes alone?” Spencer asked.

“I’m not leaving you again.” I clutched his hand.

“I’ll just be a minute.” He squeezed. “Okay? Just a minute.”

Gideon pulled me away from Spencer, giving him a minute.

When Spencer caught back up to us, I held his hand again.

“Please don’t leave me.” I begged as we got to the ambulance.

“I won’t, I won’t leave you.” He promised me sitting in the back of the bus. I leaned my head on his shoulder, sighing at the nightmare this case was.

Part 2 coming soon!

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Every Lifetime

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC

Masterlist

Part 2

Warnings: Cazador being awful, violence, main character death, angst, compulsion, sad af

---------------

Cazador removed Astarions blindfold roughly. His eyes taking time to adjust, he struggled a bit against the binds that tied his hands behind him. Cazador threw you down in front of Astarion. He swore his heart squeezed so tight in his chest he could hear it cracking. You were closer to Cazador than Astarion ever wanted you to be. 

“How rude of you not to introduce us to your friend. Did I raise you without manners, boy?” Cazador spat as he pulled you away from Astarion by your hair. You let out a shriek which only made Cazador pull harder. Astarion struggled but with his wrists and ankles bound there was nothing he could do. 

———————-

You and Astarion had known each other since you were young. Nearly inseparable as you grew up amongst the high elves despite being a drow. Astarion and you took care of each other and eventually went to Baldur’s Gate together, tasting freedom as adults for the first time. Neither of you ever said it, but neither needed to. You were it for each other. Like perfect puzzle pieces. You never yearned for another, always finding safety and solace in one another. 

The night Astarion was made a spawn was the worst night of your life. The gur beat you as well, not nearly as badly as they had him though. They just wanted you out of the way. You watched through hazy vision as Astarion went limp, battered and bloody, before they took him from the house you shared. You awoke the next day, everything destroyed and no Astarion to be found. You grew cold as your heart locked itself away. 

100 years passed but you remained in Baldur’s Gate. Astarion was your only home, so you settled in the last place you were together. You opened a little shop, making potions of different varieties. You made a good life for yourself. And yet, you felt so alone in the world. You never stopped wanting for Astarion. So when you bumped into him on your way home from your shop you were sure you were hallucinating. It was him but it wasn’t. This Astarion had white hair, red eyes, and fangs. He had been keeping an eye on you from the shadows since the day he was turned. He didn’t trust himself to be around you, not with the sanguine hunger constantly clawing its way up his throat. For 100 years he watched your flourish, and yet, you had an air about you that felt lonely. He missed you endlessly. Sometimes the thoughts and memories of you were all that kept him going. Cazador was a cruel master, he never wanted you mixed up with him. But Astarion couldn’t help it, he had gone without for 100 years. But having you in front of him, he couldn’t resist. No words were shared as you both attached your lips to each other fervently. Every emotion being let out into the kiss, both of you could feel tears on your faces. When you finally did break for air you held him tightly as he did with you. The cold aura you had melted away in an instant, you had him back. Your little star. Still as handsome as ever, but there was pain in him, you could see it. You pulled him into your house, the very same you had both resided in once. He looked around, smiling softly. It was very, you. Just the way he’d imagined it. 

“How?” was all you said, looking at him with big wet eyes.

“That night… I was so close to death, a man named Cazador promised he could save me… I was so afraid… I accepted and he turned me into this… this monstrous thing.” 

You could hear the hateful quiver in his voice. But also one of fear, of nervousness. You went to him, holding his face, looking deep into his eyes. “Vampire or not you are still my little star. Nothing will change that.” you kissed him again. He held you close, afraid that the last 100 years had changed him too much. 

He told you everything. Showed you the scars. Explained why he couldn’t stay but how he would always come back for you. And he did, he visited as often as he could. His master kept him on a short leash but you were just elated to have your love back. The world seemed brighter, sweeter. 

Until this fateful evening. The knock on the door wasn’t Astarion but another vampire. You had no time to react before he hit you, knocking you out, the world fading to black. And now you were here, in a grand palace being dragged away by your hair. Cazador held up a dagger, ready to strike you down before a devious little thought crossed his mind. Astarion begged and pleaded as Cazador stalked back to him. Do anything to him just please let you go. 

“Oh… Oh I see! How you have grown up Astarion. Find love did you? Well, why don’t you love them… to death.” Cazador laughed. He compelled Astarion to walk to you, forcing himself on top of you. You whimpered, not afraid of Astarion but afraid of what Cazador would do to him. You could see the same fear reflected in his own eyes. They were big and soft, you knew it wasn’t him doing any of this. 

“Please…” Astarion begged once more, tears streaming down his face. It almost made Cazador’s undead heart stir. Almost. 

“Drink.” Cazador demanded. Astarion let out a sob before sinking his teeth into your neck. You yelped, the unexpected pain catching you off guard. You could feel gulp after gulp of blood leaving you. You knew you were going to die, you made peace with it quickly. You tangled your hand into Astarions wispy locks. “I’ll find you again. In every lifetime. Always.” you reassured him. You grew cold, your hand falling limply from his hair. “Goodbye little star… I love you…” was the last you could manage to mumble out before slipping into oblivion.

When Cazador finally released Astarion he fell next to you, his body wracked with sobs. He traced his fingers softly over your face. “Darling please… wake up… I’m so sorry… I didn’t want to…” 

Cazador stalked over to him, making him rise out of compulsion. “You have no one in this world but me, boy. You’d do well to remember that.” he tossed Astarion aside, leaving him alone in the large palace hall. All Astarion could do was cradle your lifeless body, whispering to you, rocking you. Dreaming you would stir, you would wake up and reassure him everything was fine. 

You never did. He buried you himself, next to the same grave Cazador made him claw his way out of. He needed to be able to see you again, somewhere to find peace with you. He swore to you he would defeat Cazador. He would find you again, bring you back. In every lifetime. Always.

-------------------

Naboo's Note:

Ahhhhhh! So sad but fear not, there will be a part two! I'm hoping to get it out tomorrow or Saturday. Thank you all for being patient with me, today is the first day since surgery I haven't been 100% bed bound from the pain. Thank you all for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Ilysm, see you again very soon! xoxoxoxo

[dinaanana]

Headcannons About Chuuya being your Father figure.

Father figure!Chuuya x Teen!Reader (Platonic!)

TW: Nothing just Fuff/Crack a bit Of Violence mentioned

He's the best Father Figure anyone Could Ask for to he Honest.

We all know he's rich af. So he Buys You literally Anything you Need and Want (Even thought you never Mentioned it But he somehow Finds out)

If you're a Member In Port Mafia Aswell,Congrats You're 24/7 with him Always in his office Sitting Next him while he works or just Beside him always

If you're in PM aswell,You're lucky cuz he's gonna Be Your mentor (Doesn't matter what Mori says Y'all Just Tell him that you're his Kid and He agrees after some Time)

He's strict With Everyone else Except You ofc If you do anything wrong hell just Pat Your Head and tell you That It's okay that you should not worry over It. he ain't that soft With anyone Else,Just you and him in Closed doors.

Sometimes When you're down He takes you on Late night Rides on his Motorcycle With you sitting Behind him.

If you're a High schooler Hell Gladly Help you Out with all of your homework,But if hes Busy or is on a mission He'll tell Kouyou To help you out.

If you get in trouble at School You go Into Chuuya's Office And tell him That The principal wants to see him,so you bring Chuuya At school the next day,and everyone Is Staring At him with fear in their eyes (No one dared to Utter a Single Word)

He sometimes pulls up at your school with his Motorcycle (If he has time) to pick you up From school.

If you get an A+ on a test,He'll be Happy Pat your head and Tell you "You did good."

He Keeps you in His Penthouse All of the time when He's out on an important Mission Mori Gave him.

also the type of Mf To say "Don't open the door for strangers." And He Does the Pointer Finger Thing like "ah ah ah"

You just shrug your Shoulders and Nod "Okay,I won't,I won't."

"I'll Get goin Now See ya kiddo" He gives you a Little Wave before Leaving the Apartment and closing the door Making sure it's locked.

Also the type of Dad To sent you 100 Dollars when you just asked for 1 Dollar.

He'd be bestest Of the best Dad ,But he Won't always be in Good mood Always...He's an Port Mafia executive I guess that explains it,Sometimes he'll come home Mad,Stressed,Exhausted.

And tries his Best To control his Emotions Around you,Always Avoiding you when he's Upset,He doesn't wanna Accidently hurt you or say something That'll make you hate him.

Soo...Sometimes He Comes home really really Late...because of his Work Tired as hell,And you fall asleep On couch everytime you wait for him.when he Sees you He just Slides off His Coat that's Dropped on his shoulders Tossing it Somewhere Across the room and just Sits beside Your Sleeping Figure,He Puts A blanket over your body to Keep you warm carefully To not wake you up.

Then he just Goes over his Room on the balcony and lits up a cigarette To calm down a lil bit (He never smokes around you,He doesn't want you being disgusted after inhaling that shit)

Well Sometimes when He Doesn't have Work to do and has A day off,He Usually Makes You dinner himself,He's an amazing cook tbh And you enjoy his meals,if he doesn't know how to cook something you really want he searched it on YouTube Tutorials

But sometimes at late Nights,When you and him are Sitting on a couch in his Huge Living Room,He's usually Pouring Himself glass of Wine Or Just Straight up Drinking from The battle,Meanwhile you Are Doing your tomorrow's school work,Drawing,Playing,scrolling Etc

I HC him as that type of Dad that'll Give you A lot of money when he's drunk (For no reason) and tell you to Buy anything you want

Also the Type of Overprotective Kinda Dad that Will tell you no boyfriends till The age of 18 😭 "You're still a Lil kid,It's to Early for that!"

DOES not Know What TikTok means until you explain It to him,He just stares at You for few Moments. "Oh I get it now"

One time You and Chuuya were Exploring The PM Basements Trying to search for something or Someone (Idk)

After some kinda Minutes you lost him,Running back and forth and yelling his name Out while he yelled yours,Y'all couldn't find each other..You just walked around hoping you'll Find him Until you saw some Kind of Old Rusty room with Alot of spider Weebs and Went inside of it Just to see you man That had Exact Same Hairstyle As Chuuya but His Hair was blonde,And had Same Fedora Hat on,He was sitting on a desk Writing something and drinking a tea.

You couldn't see His Face because of The poor Light So you called him "Chuuya? What are you doing there?"

Silence filled the room,no one talked for good 2 minutes before Someone Went behind you and put A hand on your Shoulder "the hell are you doing here..?" It was Chuuya

"Chuuya? You here? But who is That man over there?" You point at Verlaine,while he's staring at you And Chuuya with Normal face Expression,You couldn't see his Eyes,Just his Mouth and Nose due to The Shadow of his Hat covering Half Of His upper face.

Chuuya Sighs As he Looks at Verlaine then back to you "That's my Big brother Verlaine..Thats why he Looks So much like me,I guess.." Chuuya has a Big brother?!

"Let's get Going now. Come on..".Chuuya takes Your wrist and drags you out not that harshly to hurt you,But Enough to pull you With him out of the basement.

After that day you didn't ask him anything,about why he was So hesitant and why Did he drag you out of There,Without even saying a word or a reason.

After some Begging he Lets you go down To visit His Brother..(He didn't Like seeing him That much as you know.)

After some time Passes by you almost visit Verlaine In his basement,He gets used to your sudden. And always awaits you Everyday,Sometimes you bring Food Or Tea down there To Give it to Verlane.

You talk Alot with him,But not Him,He Just Replies back with short Answers,But you're used to it anyways.