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lieslab · 18 hours ago

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If we could only turn back time

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: After a Dispatch article leaks, your betrayed boyfriend kicks you out of your shared apartment and you're silenced in the worst way possible.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 5.1K

Trigger warning: Misunderstood trope, physical assault, anger, yelling, a car accident, plus graphic descriptions of physical injuries, and doctors/hospitals.

A/N: I had three hours of sad One Direction music, one request, and a dream. Requestee, you asked for angst and I have given it my all. I hope this meets every expectation and more <3

_ _ _

You were the light of Bang Chan’s life. At least, that’s what he thought. For months, his love grew for you. Over time, he opened up more and more. You crawled into his heart and made yourself at home.

And then you tore it open.

He thought he finally had the love of his life, but it turns out, you were just like the others. Not really loving him, but dragging along, clinging onto clout, and when the next man came, you jumped with both feet. You didn’t even say goodbye, but neither did he.

There was no warning for either of you. One day, the two of you were head over heels for each other. The next, everything fell apart. Hearts cracked like stained glass. Tears fell, but the words from both of you didn’t provide the comfort the other so desperately craved.

In the end, two hearts ripped apart. The world tipped in the wrong direction. You both lost your footing and for weeks, nothing would be the same for either of you, ever again.

~ ~ ~

When you came home from buying groceries, the apartment was quiet, like usual. Chan’s warm presence had been gone since this morning. Up at the crack of dawn, he disappeared to continue making his dreams come true.

You missed him when he was gone, just as he missed you, but dreams were important. No matter what happened between the two of you, it was the one thing you both agreed that it was important. No matter where your life took you, the most important thing was keeping focused on your dreams.

Yes, the two of you were in love, but that wasn’t stopping either of you from pursuing your passions. Not yet engaged, the two of you vowed to be supportive of each other. Through thick and thin, in the risky moments, and everything in between; you swore to be there for one another.

Your bare feet glided across the tile floor with ease. Without Chan, the apartment felt empty, but that didn’t stop you from trying to make it feel warm and fuzzy. Over on the side counter, you turned on the candle warmer. Maybe by the time Chan got home, the apartment would be full of a welcoming vanilla buttercream.

You swore his cologne had hints of vanilla. He disagreed with you and insisted you didn’t know your scents. Just to prove a point, you bought the vanilla candle, and yet, he refused to see it.

He could be stubborn like that sometimes. Certain things he couldn’t see. No matter how hard and how obvious you attempted to make these things, he refused to see them. Sometimes, it was more frustrating than anything, but you learned to deal with every part of him; the good and the bad.

You had your own set of flaws, too. Out of everyone existing in the world, there was nobody that you wanted to be with more than Chan. The two of you were still so young. There was a lifetime of adventures and fun to have. You were hoping the relationship between the two of you would last forever.

It ended when Chan stormed through your front door. The bang of the front door slamming against the sidewall sent your heart racing. You grabbed a can of peas for defense and held your breath.

Footsteps stormed through your living room. Your fingers turned pale around the can. A sigh of relief fell from you when you saw the furrow on Chan’s face. “Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me. What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

You put down the can and walked towards him. Your hands stretched out to grab his face. To your surprise, he swatted them away. Your eyes widen at the faint sting. “What are you-”

“You don’t get to baby me after what you did!”

“I-I did something? What did I-”

“Shut up! You don’t get to pretend like you don’t know! You know I’ve felt like a piece of shit because I can’t be here twenty-four-seven! You know I travel for work and yet you still choose to hurt me in the worst way possible!”

Confusion filled your face and it just pissed him off more. He jerked his Samsung phone from his pocket. You watched as he typed in the password. Your actions from the past few days rolled through your head like stop-motion. Each silent click, more scenes filled your head.

None of them stood out. You couldn’t recall what you did wrong, but Chan was furious. Your mouth opened, but words didn’t come out. He flipped the screen to find the bold words of a Dispatch article. Your heart hit the ground with a sickening splat.

Trouble in paradise: A Rocky Road Ahead For Stray Kids’ Bang Chan’s Romantic Relationship.

Attached, two photos of you grinning at another JYP idol from another group. In one, you were waving at them. In another, you were leaning over and hugging them.

“It’s not what it looks like!”

“Really? Because you know what it looks like to me? It looks like you were attempting to hide a close relationship with someone in a younger group.”

“That’s not true! Chan, it’s Dispatch! You can’t possibly believe that I-”

“I want you out of my apartment.”

Your face fell at his words. “You…you wouldn’t. Please, just let me explain and I-”

“When have you ever talked about him? Never! You’ve never been close to another idol! Yet now, you’re hugging him?”

“Chan, please!”

“Get out!”

“But-”

“Out!” His voice raised. “Get your stuff and get the fuck out of my apartment! Don’t bother coming back!”

The words were loud enough to frighten you. You left the grocery bags scattered on the kitchen island and took off. Tears filled your eyes. You wanted to explain, but he kept cutting you off.

Too heated to think about the situation, his insecurities got the best of him. In the kitchen, he slumped against the counter with his head in his hands. Warm tears filled his eyes at the sound of your sniffles.

He wanted to comfort you, but the hurt was too much. He grew to love you with everything he had and within one Dispatch article, his swollen heart popped. How could you do this to him? After everything the two of you had been through, why did you have to ruin it?

Tears blurred your vision and you didn’t look back. You jerked items from the closet and tossed them in your suitcase. Grabbing handfuls from each of your dresser drawers, you tossed them in with everything. Even the toiletries, you didn’t have time to organize them.

Chan wanted you to go, so you’d leave. At the end of the day, this was his apartment. You paid rent, but his name was the first on the contract. He paid the down payment, not you.

You gave him one last desperate look as you passed by, but he didn’t see it. His name fell from your mouth in a weak croak, but he didn’t pull his hands from his eyes. “Please, just go away.”

You spun around, gripped your suitcase tighter, and then you did.

~ ~ ~

All night, you drove around without a destination in mind. You refused to call one of Chan’s members and plead for help. It’d only stir up drama in the group. That was the last thing you wanted.

Numbness hung over your head. You still couldn’t believe everything that happened a few hours ago. If he would have listened, he would have understood. The tears dried up a while ago, but the empty feeling in your chest didn’t go away.

Seoul’s late afternoon crept into another dark night. Gray blotted skies drifted into a pitch black. Neon lights reflected off the paint on your car, but the warm colors didn’t warm your heart.

The car felt lonely without Chan. You’d give anything to hear his laughter from beside you. The playful banter while he reminded you to turn on the correct turn signal. It’d been a constant inside joke between the two of you. Ever since you accidentally flicked on the wrong signal and turned the wrong way, he’d never let it go.

The way he tipped his head forward. Messy tendrils of dark hair fell over his forehead. His squeaky laugh warmed your heart. Such a far comparison from the anger that rattled the apartment walls earlier.

You poked his dimples between the stoplights. On nights when the two of you wanted to get away from everyday life, you found peace in this car. You’d drive and be in control for once. He’d sit beside you with a hand on your thigh.

Simple conversations filled the car. Love pooled between the two of you. Shared laughter, quiet conversations, and the secret getaway that your car provided you’d do anything to turn back time.

You loved him for a reason. You always had and you always would. Just because photos told one story, it didn’t mean they told the entire story. Snippets didn’t capture the truth. The context was important, but Chan was too distraught tonight.

Too stressed out. Too angry. Too frustrated. Things built up and that article was the breaking point. Those photographs became thorns in your relationship. In one day, the roses wilted. Withered petals gathered at your feet.

Tomorrow would be better, you reassured yourself as you drove. Tomorrow, Chan would realize he was wrong. He jumped the gun in this situation. In the morning, he’d call you and apologize.

Tomorrow, you’d be welcomed home with a heartfelt apology and a bouquet of fresh flowers. A glass full of red wine, sweets, and a home cooked dinner. Tomorrow, things will be okay again. These tears were temporary. This hurt wouldn’t last forever.

At a stoplight, you grabbed your phone and dialed Changbin’s number. On speaker phone, you waited and waited, but he didn’t pick up. If anyone would know the truth and be able to rationalize Chan’s brain, it was him.

The red light from the stoplights highlighted faint tear streaks. You sniffled, wiping your long sleeve across your dripping nose. Your eyes shut and your voice cut out and quivered as you spoke.

“Please know that I didn’t mean to cause him or you guys any harm. I ran into him the other day and asked if he could help teach me a dance. He’s one of JYP’s best dancers and I know Stray Kids are busy. His group is on break and I just thought I could surprise Chan with a dance.”

“Saying it out loud, I get that it’s stupid now. I was just hoping it’d cheer him up. He’s been so stressed lately. I thought the least I could do was make him laugh.”

“If you get a chance and if he’s willing to hear it, please let him know I love him. I love him and I’m sorry. Dispatch is stupid and I hate them. You can even ask that idol and he’ll tell you the same thing. I’m so sorry, Changbin. I’ll talk to you later. I have to find a place to stay tonight.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shut your eyes. After clicking the end call button on your phone, you threw the device into your passenger’s seat. Maybe if you were lucky, Chan would hear out Changbin. Level-headed and rational, you knew Chan appreciated the advice he gave out.

A car horn honked behind you. Your eyes quickly reopened and the green light stared back at you. Unblinking, you grumbled beneath your breath. “I’m going, I’m going, geez.” You inched out into the intersection, expecting to continue going straight.

You weren’t expecting your car to jerk left. Your screams blended with the sound of crushing metal. Orange sparks flew. The sickening scent of burnt rubber and diesel hit your nose. Your seatbelt cut into your neck and briefly cut off your air flow.

The last thing you remembered was the horn of the semi-truck vibrating your entire car.

~ ~ ~

It wasn’t Dispatch that was the first one to find out about the devastating car accident; instead, it was Jeongin. He sucked in a deep breath as he walked into the hospital. Last night, after struggling with the flu, someone admitted his friend to the hospital.

He mumbled beneath his breath, trying to figure out what to say. A blue medical mask sat over his nose and mouth. He knew to keep his distance, but he still felt awful that they were here.

Hospitals were lonely. In the brief moments when families and friends disappeared. When the nurses were following their routine rounds and doctors were checking in on other patients, people were left alone. The isolating white walls. The uncomfortable piercing beeps from the heart rate monitor. The cold IV drips, distributing medicine directly into the bloodstream.

Surgical stitches ached. Disease weighed heavily upon the lungs. Intubation and the mechanical push and pull of oxygen and carbon dioxide. Hospitals were the opposite of warm and welcoming. Cold and sterile, he rather wished his friend was at home.

The colorful bouquet of multicolored flowers was the brightest thing in the hallway. Closed doors with numbers passed by as he walked. The nurse’s announcement of his friend’s room number echoed in his head.

It dissipated when he heard your name from a nurse in a cracked room. Before he knew it, he was pushing the door open and stepping inside. On the hospital bed, you were unrecognizable. Scrapes and cuts laced your face. Both plum purple eyes swelled shut.

The right side of your face puffed up unnaturally. Black stitches poked out from the bottom of your lip. That was just your face. That wasn’t beginning to touch the cast on your arm and the rest of your body hidden beneath the blue covers.

He knew it was you. He recognized the promise ring on your ring finger. He had helped Chan pick it out. He glanced around, searching for Chan, but he wasn’t there.

“Are you lost?”

He glanced up to find the nurse. Her blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail. She observed him through black, circular-rimmed glasses.

He shook his head and repeated your name. The nurse frowned and he pointed to you. “Is this-”

“Are you family?”

“Brother.”

You weren’t biologically related, but it felt true deep down.

~ ~ ~

Changbin tried to bring the situation up to Chan, but every time he spoke your name, Chan would shut down. From what Changbin knew, Chan didn’t know what happened to you. The rest of the guys did, but they all received the same results. Every time they spoke your name, Chan grew irritated and short-tempered.

“I don’t want to talk about them! Stop bringing them up! Enough!”

The charming and charismatic leader unraveled at the seams. His heart was full of love for you and you ruined it. That wasn’t something he took lightly. The hurt oozed out in other ways.

His songs weren’t coming together as easily anymore. He used to get your feedback when he went home, but now the apartment was empty. The bed was colder without you. He was lonely, but he wouldn’t admit it.

He snapped during dance practice. After he snapped at a manager, a manager lectured him about authority and respecting his elders. Nobody understood the hurt that he was going through. It didn’t help that Dispatch began showing up and bothering him.

They could take all the pictures they wanted. He’d never give them the satisfaction of breaking his heart. Instead of listening, he put on his airpods and cranked up the music. He shoved through the camera flashes with his baseball hat low and a face mask covering the rest of his face. They didn’t deserve to turn his heartbreak into entertainment.

He’d never let them break him. They already did it once. You were gone and the longer you went without a call or a text, he assumed they were right. They caught you cheating and you accepted it. You didn’t fight for your relationship.

You didn’t call and beg for him to take you back. You didn’t call and try to explain. He sent you one text, but you never opened it. He was at a complete loss without you.

Some would call him stubborn for it, but he’d say that he was just trying to protect himself from more hurt.

~ ~ ~

The lonely days for you didn’t stay lonely for long. Jeongin discovered you hours after your accident. The days slipped by, but you weren’t alone anymore. Unconscious and pumped full of medicine, sure. They were far from lonely.

Every evening, the guys took turns hanging out beside your bed. Seungmin would sing the songs you liked. Jeongin told you funny stories of Chan, trying to bring you back to consciousness. Minho brought you warm comments from the fans who found out about your accident. The rest of the guys had their own things, but Chan’s voice never filled the room.

Stuck in a coma, things were dark. Occasionally, you could hear the beeping of your machines. You could feel your lungs expand and compress unnaturally. Your body felt like a shell more than anything. Voices came and went, but never Chan’s.

In the darkness, you couldn’t see. You weren’t sure if you were dead or not. Stranger’s voices appeared in soft whispers and then they faded. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you knew you were exhausted.

Those audible voices and sounds never lasted for long. You couldn’t feel pain. Every sensation within you felt numbed. A heavy fog filled your head and something clouded your vision.

You attempted to open your eyes every so often, but they didn’t budge. Someone glued them shut. Every limb tingled with tiny pins and needles. You didn’t know if this was death, but it didn’t feel comforting. Somewhere between the realm of the living and dead, doctors kept you in a medically induced coma.

How else could they heal the swelling of your brain? ~ ~ ~

“I can’t take this anymore!” Felix cried out. He shoved himself from the chair and pulled out his phone. “This is such bullshit! I’m tired of keeping this from him.”

“Well, we’ve tried. What do you propose we do? Tell him to get to the hospital without mentioning his significant other’s name?” Seungmin crossed his arms over his chest. “Good luck. We’ve tried everything and it’s been twenty-something days.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what we should do. How much longer can this go on for? This is pathetic, even for him! I get that he’s hurt, but look at them!” He reached over and gestured towards your bed.

You remained intubated and unmoving. The swelling in your puffy eyes faded a little more each day, but they still looked awful. The stitches in your lips disappeared, but a fresh pink scar remained.

Swirls of purple and blue smeared along your face. Broken bones reset and were on the mend. You were a living miracle. The first responders were afraid you wouldn’t make it, but when they pulled you from the wreckage, you continued breathing.

So he unlocked his phone and hit Chan’s contact name.

“Hello?”

“Chan?”

“Yeah?”

“You need to get to the hospital right now. Call me when you get here.”

“WHAT?”

“I can’t talk. Just call me when you get here.”

“Felix!”

He grimaced and hung up the phone. Seungmin shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You probably gave him a heart attack. He’s going to kill you when he gets here, you know?”

“That’s a problem for later.” ~ ~ ~

Chan flew from his apartment. His heart pounded in his chest and he couldn’t breathe. Losing you was hard enough. If anything happened to a member of his group, he’d never forgive himself.

“Come on, come on!” He fumbled with his seat belt in one hand. With the other, he swung his car door shut. In seconds, he jerked the car in reverse and slammed the pedal.

He lurched down the driveway, spun the wheel with a rubbered squeal, and shifted the car into drive. The engine roared and he sped down the road.

What-ifs grew stronger on the way to the hospital. His breath caught in his throat and he struggled to stay calm. Last he knew, everyone was fine so what happened? Who? How bad was it?

The moment he parked, he whipped out his phone and dialed Felix’s number. When Felix responded, his voice came out frantic. “I’m here! Where are you?”

“Room one-twelve. I’ll meet you half-way. I’ll see you soon.”

“Wait, who is-”

Click.

“Fucking hell!” He cried out. He grabbed the keys, sped from the car, and rushed towards the automatic door.

Everything was a blur inside. Voices appeared from the waiting room. The receptionist glanced over the front desk and eyed him, but she didn’t stop him. He glanced left and right and opted to go left.

The carpet disappeared beneath his feet and turned into squeaky clean white vinyl. An easy material to clean and disinfect daily. He rushed forward when he saw Felix appear down the edge of the hall.

The squeak of his shoes didn’t matter. He ignored the doctor he passed that told him to stop running. By the time he reached Felix, he grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. “Who is it? What happened? Tell me!”

“Just, come on.”

“Felix!”

Felix didn’t budge. He grabbed Chan’s wrist and pulled him along. His chest filled with anxiety and his lungs compressed. When the pair appeared at the right door, Felix dropped his wrist and slowly pushed the door open.

He expected to find Han or Jeongin. A broken and battered Hyunjin or Changbin hooked to oxygen. This was the intensive care unit. This was for the severe cases. The patients that required a close eye and keen detailing.

Upon seeing you, his face fell. The bruising upon your face. The tube down your throat. Your lifeless skin and unmoving limbs. There was no sign of the life the two of you created.

No reassuring smiles, or laughter. Seungmin sat solemnly beside your bed in a chair. “I’m shocked that you finally made it.”

“What the hell happened?” He hurried to the opposite side of your bed. His hand reached out, but he didn’t touch you. Too frightened by your state, he didn’t know where he could touch without causing you pain.

“Try their hand,” an unfamiliar voice spoke up. He whirled around to find a nurse in blue scrubs. “Their hands survived the crash. You can touch their hands if you wish.”

“Sorry, I came in to get some vitals. It’ll only be a few moments and then I can leave you alone. Visiting hours are open until eleven o’clock tonight. I’ve never seen you here before, so I thought you should know.”

“How long have they been like this?” He whispered. Tears filled his eyes and his heart ached.

“Since the night you told them to leave your apartment.”

“What?”

“Felix!” Seungmin’s voice shot out sternly. “It’s not like that, Chan. Yes, the accident happened that night, but don’t beat yourself up over it. A driver of a semi-truck was speeding and couldn’t stop in time.”

“That was nearly a-”

“I’m sorry, hyung.” Felix’s hand appeared on his shoulder. “We tried to tell you, but every time we tried to utter their name, you were angry. We should have found a better way to tell you, but…” He trailed off, unsure of what else to say.

The nurse grabbed your vitals and disappeared to give the guys time with you. Chan collapsed to his knees and grabbed your hand with both of his. For nearly a month, you’d been stuck in this bed. He thought you’d given up on the relationship with him.

This entire time you haven't texted him back. Not because you were angry. Not because you were sad. Not because Dispatch’s rumors were true. But it was because you physically couldn’t. Intubated and trapped in a medically induced coma, you couldn’t reach out, even if you wanted to.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry, I-I thought that they-”

“Easy, hyung.”

“What did I do? What the fuck did I do? If I wouldn’t have kicked them out of the apartment, this wouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have been so angry. I should have let them explain.”

Seungmin shot Felix a look. He shrugged and gently rubbed Chan’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Channie. You were hurting and you didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He was supposed to be the leader. A strong pillar and an even stronger influence on his younger members. As the eldest member, he was supposed to be reliable. At that moment, he crumbled. Tears appeared in his eyes as a sob broke from his chest.

No wonder you had been so quiet. He called you once and hit your voicemail. He longed to hit the call button, just so he could hear your voice again. He squeezed your hand tighter and pressed it against his cheek.

“Wake up. Wake up, baby, please! Come back to me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I'm so sorry!”

Tears blurred his vision. He struggled to comprehend your mangled face. Your other hand sat wrapped in a cast. You must have been so broken when you arrived here. He wasn’t here to comfort you. He wasn’t here to try and console and cheer you up.

A wheeze fell from his throat. The betrayal slicing through his heart disappeared. This time, he felt like he was the one that had betrayed you. He hurt you in the most unimaginable way possible.

You laid here broken and half-dead. You spent hours fighting for your life alone. And where was he? Walking around your shared apartment drowning in his own self-pity. He’d never forgive himself for this.

“What is this?” He finally whispered after his sobs faded away. His throat was raw. His voice came out scratchy. “How bad is it?”

“The doctor said they should wake up at any time. They weren’t breathing on their own. A medically induced coma ensured to make sure their brain’s swelling could stop.”

“It was that bad? They’ve been suffering through all that alone?” His bottom lip quivered. He grew afraid of the response he’d receive.

“No,” Seungmin spoke up. “Jeongin found out first. He was the one that notified us. He said he tried to tell you, but when he showed up at your apartment, you told him to leave.”

Horror filled Chan at the memory. Later that same night, back when you left, Jeongin appeared on his front porch pale. Instead of hearing out the younger member, he told him to get lost and slammed the door in his face. Deep down, he was afraid to be viewed as weak in front of the younger member.

The memory stung his heart. Poor Jeongin just wanted him to know the truth and he slammed the door in his face. No wonder Jeongin seemed so nervous around him. He was probably worried that Chan would find out the truth and yell at him for not telling him.

He rubbed his face and pawed at his eyes. “So does everyone know?”

“Everyone besides you.”

“Sorry you’re late. None of us knew how to get you here. You’d never listen when we tried to talk about them.”

“I was such a stupid, selfish asshole.”

“You were hurting,” Felix corrected him.

“And a stupid, selfish asshole.”

“You were.”

“Seungmin!” Felix cried.

“No, I want him to know that he was. I’m not going to sit here and pity him. You were a jerk, Chan. I hope you remember this moment whenever you try to act like an asshole again.”

The words were a slap in the face, and yet he wanted to laugh. As harsh as Seungmin’s words were, they rang true. He was a jerk and maybe, in the cruelest way possible, this was his karma.

He opened his mouth to respond, but paused when your fingernails scratched at his hand. The tube in your throat caused you to choke. You couldn’t fully see as your eyes half-opened. Still swollen, your vision remained limited. Silhouettes appeared and voices became more distinct.

“Get a nurse!”

Footsteps hit the ground. You gargled and reached your opened mouth. “No, no, no! You can’t touch that yet.”

“Easy, love. Try to relax and don’t fight the tube. It’s breathing for you right now.”

The distress and quickened-pace of the heart rate monitor hit a hiccup. Chan’s familiar voice grounded you, but you still struggled with the tube. Your lungs wanted to expand, but the machine compressed them. You choked again, still fighting the pesky thing.

More footsteps. Another silhouette. Glasses on an unfamiliar face and latex rubbing against your skin. “It’s okay, you’re safe. I’m going to take this out now, okay? On the count of three. One, two, three!”

You gasped and coughed at the removal. Your lungs filled with air of your own accord. More coughing. You attempted to swallow, but your mouth was so dry. The lingering phantom of a headache filled the side of your head.

“Try a sip of this, sweetheart.”

The nurse’s tone was honey to your ears. You swallowed the water the moment it hit your lips. One swallow and then another. Two more and suddenly, you were gulping like crazy.

“Easy, or you’ll choke,” Chan gently reminded you.

The nurse pulled the glass away when you finished. “Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital?”

“Do you remember your name?”

“Chan?”

“I’m right here, honey. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Do you remember your name? This nice nurse wants to help you get better. Your doctor is on his way.”

Every question asked, you answered it perfectly. A buzz of excitement swirled around the room from your consciousness. Seungmin and Felix left the room to give everyone the good news.

When the doctor concluded you were stable, he disappeared with the nurse. A silence fell between you and Chan. You still couldn’t see perfectly, but you could feel the weight of his hand in yours.

“Baby, I’m so sorry for that night.”

“I don’t want to talk about that night.”

“I was an idiot.”

“Dumbass,” you weakly corrected him.

“I see getting hit by a semi-truck hasn’t taken away your sass.”

“If I can survive this, I can survive anything.”

“I love you and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I love you and I don’t want to hear anything else about that. I’m so tired. Can you sing me to sleep or something?”

“If I do, promise you won’t die?”

“I promise.”

Even if you couldn’t make out his face, you knew his voice, and that was good enough for you.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght

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jinxlovebot · 2 days ago

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Arcane women x female reader (mostly Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx and Mel) making scissors? Please, I need it! Personally, I would like it to have this: why do they like this position? What's your favorite part of doing it? Are they dominant or submissive? Are they loud? That's all! I would like to see it.

scissoring with the arcane women - fem!reader

ᰔᩚ: mel, vi, jinx, caitlyn. fem! reader, males dni, not proofread..

mel medarda - oh she is definitely a dom. she loves to praise you while you ride her wet pussy and grips your hips and guides you the way she wants you to move. she focuses on you cumming first and purposely edges herself to let her cum after you. she definitely whines and moans your name, and says dirty words to you. "look at you, so wet for me i can hear it." "your such a good girl for me." "keep rocking your hips like that...fuck your beautiful."

vi - i lowkey feel like she'd be a dom. she loves being on top, using her strong legs to rub your clits together. she definitely is so vocal, moaning your name and whimpering like a dog in heat. i feel like she would also love being on the bottom and looking up at your pretty faces when you cum or to grip onto your jiggling boobs when you move. she definitely says the most nasty shit to you as well, "fuck, your such a slut for me huh?" "yeah, ah! faster atta girl."( she also smacks your ass too.)

jinx - she is definitely a sub, maybe a dom somedays. jinx would be on the bottom whining your name and bucking her hips up to add some friction. she is also sooo needy and makes it so clear. she will also constantly want to have her mouth on you, either giving you hickeys while you have your body weight on her and riding her, or kissing up your arm and pecking your hand. she literally never stops making noises shes so vocal, she is always begging for more or moaning your name. "fuck! yes, baby just like that." " ah, please go faster."

caitlyn - DEFINITELY a dom. she only focuses on you and doesnt even care if she cums or not. she overstimulates you alot, she would be on top, still moving her hips into you even when your cumming so you go over the edge. she is a huge whiner though, whining your name or little whimpers coming out of her lips. "look at you so pretty for me." "that feel good yeah? well im not stopping."

................................................................................................

#wlw post #smut #wlw #x reader #x female reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x female reader smut #vi x reader #vi x reader smut #mel medarda x reader smut #mel medarda x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader smut #caitlyn kirraman x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader #arcane

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sumbarbietingz · 3 days ago

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Brats give the best head.

(This is a repost since mf tumblr flagged it)

"Mmpphh. Mmpphhmp... Chu'kna..."

"Don't talk with your mouth full brat... it's rude you know that?"

Sukuna says between grunts, while you're bobbing up and down on one of his abnormally thick cocks, as you're stroking with both hands the other that has been drenched with saliva. You know, most people don't usually suck on a 13 inches penis easily, especially when there are two of them, not to mention the girth. But most people aren't Ryomen Sukuna's little brat. You can't count how many times he punished you with them after an argument or for simply talking back. It came to a point where all your holes took the shape of his twins, expanding them so you could be ruined for other men for good. This is what he planned since the day he met you. And the girl who struggled to go all the way down is gone. You're now sucking him like a pro, twisting your head and hands in ways that make him growl. You go up and down with ease, making the nastiest, most animalistic groans and slurping sounds that you know drive the King of Curses insane. Of course, your soft and plump pink and brown lips wrapped around him and sliding with ease adds some sensations. But aside from the amazing feeling you're giving him, what he loves the most is the slutty, dirty look you’re always giving him. Your hollowed cheeks as you take him in your mouth, your nose heavily running like you are a 2 yo old on a cold day, your face fresh with tears and smeared makeup and covered with saliva, these lusty, fuck me eyes you’re giving him while making bubbles of spit on his large cock feels like heaven. But Sukuna is a greedy man. He pushes your head, increasing the slurping noises and his pleasure.

“Fuuuuuuuck brat. Taking my cocks like the goooood whore that you are… trained my bratty girl so well…” You hum in confirmation, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through him. He hisses and groans but almost loses it once he feels you playing with his huge drenched balls and gooch. Now he’s moaning, it’s music to your ears. He stops pushing your head to grip your coils with one hand, his claws scratching your scalp as his other hands grip the bedsheets, threatening to tear them apart. You look him in the eyes as you’re bobbing your head up and down, stroking his other dick with one hand while massaging his wet balls and gooch with the other. You let more and more saliva drip down his length, the slurps and gagging sounds increasing as you go deeper and faster. You notice your king drooling and heavily breathing as you’re sucking his soul. So you decide to switch cocks, making a real mess on him and your face. You suck one and suck on the other all while keeping your drenched hands busy. Sukuna bites his lips so hard he might draw blood, he’s getting closer and closer to the edge, you’re making him feel so good he feels like he’s going to explode. You’re so nasty and disgusting, he has never seen anyone like you before, and that’s exactly what he wanted. You can hear the sheets getting torn out by his claws from how tightly he’s gripping them.

“Y/n, I- I’m gonna…. I'm gonna c-cum…” Then that’s when you decide to deliver the final blow. Your tongue starts licking his frenulum fervently, one hand massages the tip of his other cock, and the other is now only focused on his gooch. He can barely talk anymore. He groans so loudly the sound resonates in the entire room. He shoots his salty cum right in your mouth, so you close it to feel everything and not waste a single drop of it. You feel the warm sticky semen dripping on your hand from his other cock. While you suckle on his tip a little, you look at him, his red eyes half lidded and see how out of breath he is, this look of bliss he got on his face. You take him out of your mouth to swallow his cum and lick what he has spilled on your hand. Then you pull out your pink tongue to show him that you swallowed everything. He hums softly, slowly catching his breath, and grabs your wet cheeks with one hand, admiring your state. Your cheeks covered in saliva, your wet lips, your fucked up makeup… now he wanna see you fucked out and boneless.

“Good girl. Always pleasing me. Seems like you deserve a reward, don't you?” You nod eagerly, already anticipating what’s coming. “Yes Sukuna~”

Header: Cinnabus on twitter

Taglist: @imm0rtalbutterfly @blushingbelle @nsfwinami @that-weeb-in-ur-closet

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plaidcowboy · 1 day ago

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taking care of 𓂃 rafe cameron while he’s spiraling

⟳⠀ a little inebriated rafe ⟳⠀after an argument with ward

⊹ you blinked into the open space of your room, slowly collecting your coherence as you listened to the voice over the phone. it took a second to realize you were hearing rafe mumbling, not sounding like himself. you quickly jolted up in bed at his quiet, but frantic words.

“i just don’t get why everything i do goes unnoticed.. unappreciated. i saved him. she didn’t do anything but run off and betray us. i got the cross. i killed that sheriff for him. me, rafe.. i don’t understand what happened with us..”

it broke your heart to hear his voice crack. you nursed your phone against your cheek, letting him get everything out. where was he? did his words sound partially slurred or was that your still half asleep mind? but you were so glad he called you in a moment this vulnerable. after months of being with rafe, he had a habit of keeping his feelings in and not letting you into his mind. despite this, you constantly told him you were always there if he needed an outlet.

you heard a dry chuckle across the line. “he even tried to blame you. my precious girl.. does he know how much i didn’t know i needed you? he can’t even begin to understand the love we share. he doesn’t have someone to take care of him like you do with me. he crossed the line when he mentioned you.. i just lost it..”

you placed a hand over your mouth, letting his words and current state settle in. you couldn’t let yourself get focused on ward’s thoughts of you. you knew he wasn’t a good man. you knew he didn’t deserve rafe’s respect. after months of knowing this, and knowing the fights he and rafe got into, never was it like this. this truly was breaking you.

you softly sniffled, not realizing you were getting worked up. “it’s okay, baby. it’s okay to let out that frustration. i’m so proud of you for letting yourself feel it. i’m even prouder you called me. that’s so good, rafe.”

you heard him breathing over the line, not speaking for a second. you took this opportunity to find out his whereabouts.

“um.. do you know where you are right now? can you see any signs?” you got up, walking to your closet to throw on a jacket and slip on a pair of shoes, waiting for him to answer.

it was another second of silence before he responded quietly, prompting you to listen closer. “i needed to hear your voice. i know you told me you’d be an outlet, but i didn’t think i’d have to use that outlet, but i needed it..”

you paused after grabbing your keys, listening intently, clinging on to his every word.

“..i needed to hear you. that makes everything better. i can’t see you right now, and i can’t let you see me, but i needed to feel you somehow.”

you slightly panicked at rafe telling you, you couldn’t see him. “rafe, i already see you even if i physically can’t. but i would really like to see you. do you think you could tell me where you are, handsome?” you didn’t let your voice portray your desperation too much. you didn’t want to let him know he was worrying you. then, he really wouldn’t let you go near him. not if he knew he was making you scared.

you could hear chatter grow louder around him as he answered. “i..” he pushed out a heavy sigh. “..i’m not disappointing you, am i? because i.. i won’t tell you if you’re disappointed in me right now. i’ll fix it.. i’ll fix myself and give you time to think.. i can’t have you upset with me..” he voice broke off softly at the end.

you were out of your room and outside, heading towards your car as he finished his sentence. “rafe, i think it’s impossible for me to feel anything diminishing about you. that feeling doesn’t exist inside of me. there is nothing, rafe, you could do or say that would make me view you differently from the caring and gentle hearted man you are.”

you were pressing on the gas, making your way toward where you knew rafe was without him having to say it.

this time it was him that sniffled, and you couldn’t grip the wheel tighter at the sound. he affirmed your thought of his location after a beat of still silence from his side.

“this might be impossible for rafe cameron, but can you please stay still?” you softly chuckled, attempting to lighten the tone, panic easing from you now that you were making your towards him.

“yeah, i’ll try” was his muttered response.

you were pulling up to the restaurant a few minutes later, rushing out of your car and looking around for rafe.

it wasn’t long before you spotted him outside at a high rise table, his head hanging slighty over his arms that were pressed atop of the table. standing tall, and standing oddly still. doubt didn’t dawn on you that rafe would listen, but him literally holding himself still was something you weren’t expecting. you softly shook your head, walking up to him.

he saw you from his peripheral, but sensed you before he actually knew you were approaching. turning his head, his expression couldn’t seem to turn softer and his posture more relaxed.

his face started to crumble, and you quickly reached around him to pull him into a hug, tugging his head down to rest on your shoulder.

you couldn’t feel the clawing and gripping of his hands as he tried to hold you inhumanly closer. only relief that he was in your arms now, and not afar over the phone.

“i’m sorry..” he softly uttered into your top. “..i’m sorry you have to see me like this.. but it’s messed up that i don’t care. i needed to feel you, to touch you, even if it meant you seeing me this way..”

you dug your face into his side, willing your eyes to not produce the tears you felt coming on.

“i can’t.. i won’t let go. you’re gonna leave if i let go, and you can’t leave me. you can’t..”

he spoke so softly you knew it was a thought that he didn’t mean to say out loud.

you reared back, pulling up his head to face you. the sorrow in his eyes felt like the last tug at your heart to finally pull it from its strings.

“i’m never letting go, so you can’t.”

rafe’s arms came down, his hands both cupping over one of your hands. you took it as the sign rafe was ready to leave. was ready to only be near you.

you turned, walking back towards your car, feeling his hands tighten. you went to open the passenger side for rafe when he pulled you back, halting you.

you turned towards him to ask what was wrong when he pulled the back door open instead. he nodded his head into the opening, gesturing for you to climb in first. you did so, not once letting his hands slip from your one. rafe was right behind you, closing the door behind him.

you laid your legs out, letting him settle between them and rest himself against you. he was holding you up to your promise of never letting him go.

you wrapped your arms around him, listening to his breathing. he had done so much talking, it was time for you to return it.

“you’re perfect to me. for me. if no one else can see your worth, they’re not worth your time, rafe. there’s nothing for you to be sorry for. i am so, so glad you called me. it doesn’t hurt seeing you like this as much as it would hurt to know you were going through this alone. there’s nowhere i would rather be than right here with you.”

rafe settled closer into you, always needing to be so close to you it seemed as if you shared the same skin.

“i don’t need anyone but you. i only need you seeing me and really knowing me.. can you just hold me for right now? please.”

as if you would ever deny him. “of course. whatever you need.”

it was a second before you heard him mutter something, not aware he was responding to what you said.

“just you.”

ϧ𝑒ׅ ࣪

#۶ৎ rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe blurb #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader

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p5buecks · 2 days ago

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grind on me

paige bueckers x oc

bathroom stall hook up

cw: smut

hi first smut post so i wanted to keep it pretty chill. let me know what you think and you can also send me requests!

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `

When the opening beat to Grind On Me by Pretty Ricky blasted through the club, there was only one person on my mind. My boyfriend; Caleb. This was our unofficial, official song. We met in a similar setting two years ago and as this exact song played, the brunette boy couldn’t take his eyes off me. As I danced and moved my body to the beat, Caleb watched intently before making his move.

I navigated through the crowd of sweaty, swaying bodies, eyes focused on my boyfriend who was stood with a group of his friends. I could feel myself grinning cheesily and there was no doubt, it was vodka induced. My vision had also significantly blurred since the beginning of the night and despite my steps being cautious and careful, I was still knocking into people. Without saying any words, I pressed my body against Calebs. I moved sensually, the way he liked it. My back pressed into his front and I waited for his hands to find my waist as they usually did but the familiar feeling never came. Instead I felt his flat palm press against my back before his voice muttered into my ear, “Chill, Selene.” I was tipsy and payed no mind and further pushed into Calab, ass directly in his crotch as as my hips moved to the beat.

“I said chill.” Calebs voice was deeper and more intense this time and paired with a slight shove, knocking me off balance, I couldn’t ignore him any longer. “What the fuck Caleb?” I spun around, coming face to face with my boyfriend. “You’re drunk and it’s embarrassing.” Calebs scolds, “You’ve never had a problem before.” I rebuttal, frowning while both hands rested on my hips. “Well, I have an image to keep up and people are looking, so chill.” Calebs eyes narrowed and I was taken aback, he never acted like this, I was caught off guard but I wasn’t about to back down. “I don’t give a damn if people are looking!” I flung my arms up in the air for dramatic effect and raised my voice several decibels higher. If people weren’t looking, they definitely are now.

Despite everyones eyes being on us having a domestic dispute in the middle of a busy club, Caleb had no problem reaching out for my face, holding me under my chin and squeezing my jaw, “Chill the fuck out or go home!” His tone was venomous and I sobered up quick before muttering a sharp ‘fine’ and hurrying away with tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

I barged my way to the bathrooms and locked myself in a stall before giving in and letting myself cry. The salty tears made my eyes sting and cheeks wet. I needed to go home.

“Pull yourself together.” I urged myself as I wiped my tear stained face, my makeup was ruined and as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I could only agree with my boyfriend. I was drunk and embarrassing. I was an embarrassment to him. I held my hands underneath the cold running water in a hope to ground myself and closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths, “He’s right.” I whispered.

“He’s a jerk.” A voice other than my own made me realise I was no longer alone in the bathroom and I flicked my eyes open. It took them a minute to adjust to the low lighting but the tall blonde at the door was crystal clear. Whoever she was, she was right. Caleb was a jerk but I wasn’t about to admit that to a total stranger.

I dried my hands, avoiding eye contact, just wanting to leave. “You good?” The blonde spoke again and this time she took a few steps further into the bathroom, closing the space between us. “I’m fine.” My response was short and quick and may have sounded rude, “I’m good. Thank you.” I corrected myself, shooting the girl a tight lipped smile and stepping around her. Our arms brushed each others and I was close enough for her scent to reach me. It was floral and sweet with hints of amber and vanilla. It made me stop in my tracks.

“You not allowed to have fun or sum?” She continued as I reached for the door handle. Everything told me to open the door and walk out. Go home, sober up and apologise profusely to Caleb in the morning but my body betrayed me. I let go of the door handle and turned back around to two artic blue eyes locked on me. Her pupils were dilated ever so slightly and she raised a brow as she awaited my answer.

“I guess not.” Was all I could muster and I leant against the basin. The cold marble cooling my heated skin. “Pretty girl like you should be having all the fun. Want me to go let him know?” Even though there was nothing funny about this situation and I could still taste my salty tears on my lips, I giggled, “It’s good. Don’t want you getting in trouble.” The blonde was now stood in front of me, our height difference glaringly obvious as I looked up at her. “What do you want?” There was a change in her tone, it was lower, more breathy and I suppressed a shiver. “To go home. Forgot about this mess of a night.” I tried my hardest to look away as I spoke, break the eye contact, relieve the tension that was quickly building but I couldn’t. Her hands weren’t on me but this girl had me in a chokehold.

“Forgetting is easy.” She said pushing loose curls off my face causing me to take a sharp intake of breath. Her hands were big but slender and cool against the warmth of my heated skin. “Yeah?” My voice came out croaky but I quickly cleared my throat, it was clear to me what was happening here and maybe I wasn’t thinking straight or maybe I was and just didn’t care but I was as game as she was. “Yeah. But if you need some help, just let me know.”

Two people in one stall was cramped to say the least but with my back pressed up against the wall and the blonde pressed up against me, any thoughts of this being wrong had exited my mind. She was everywhere. Her lips on my lips, then on my jaw, sloppy as they made their way down my neck before nipping at the skin on my chest. “No marks.” I breathed out and I got a chuckled response, “He don’t give a fuck baby.” And her hands that had found home on my hips tightened their grip.

Her knee was nestled perfectly between my legs, pressed firmly against my pulsating cunt and the firmer she pressed, the more I rolled my hips on her.

There were very few words spoken between us before her foot knocked mine apart and she pulled my panties to the side and pushed her fingers inside of me. Her pace was immediately fast and hard and her long fingers had no problem reaching that precise spot that made me gasp out loud. As quick as the sound tumbled from my parted lips, her hand came up to cover my mouth. She didn’t have to say anything for me to know that was a command for me to keep quiet.

She pounded in and out of me with no mercy, her hand having migrated from my mouth to my throat, squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. I was quickly losing control and was unable to stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head. I bit down on lip in an attempt to keep my breathy moans captive in my throat but it was pointless and as I whimpered in pleasure the blonde simply smirked at me, a small dimple revealing itself. “What would your boyfriend think if he knew some random had his girl moaning like this?” She asked cockily. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t think of a reply. Hell, I couldn’t think of Caleb at all. Not while the wet sound of my arousal filled the small bathroom stall.

“Does he make you moan like this?” No. “Does he make you feel this good?” No. “Do I fuck you better than him?” Yes. But I wasn’t about to admit any of that to the girl I didn’t even know the name of. In an attempt to shut her up, I pressed my lips to hers, slipping my tongue into her mouth. Our tongues fought with each others. Sloppy and heated. I groaned into her mouth as her thumb rubbed soft, tight circles over my clit. “Fuck.” My voice was shaky as I pulled away and my legs almost buckled beneath me as my stomach flipped and contracted as I was worked to the edge. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The blue eyed girl mumbled as she held me firmly in place, against the wall.

With her hand no longer covering my mouth my sordid sounds were no longer being interrupted and my back arched off the wall as my body was overcome with pleasure. “Don’t stop.” I begged as I felt myself clench around the fingers buried inside of me. My skin prickled and my body twitched as I came undone. My head dropped to the taller girls chest and the guttural groan that I let out was damn right sinful.

Breathless and trembling, I whined as her fingers slipped out of me leaving me empty and dripping. I watched with hooded eyes as she took her slick fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. I opened my mouth to speak, unsure of what I wanted to say but the moment was harshly interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open.

“Paige! We’re leaving!” I expected both of us to remain silent. Inconspicuous. But the girl in front of me called out back, “Give me two minutes.” At least she had a name now.

Paige fixed my skirt back into position after it had hiked up to my waist and she ran her thumb under my lip, no doubt wiping away smudged lipstick. “For the record, you can grind on me anytime.” And just as quick as she had made me cum, she left me stood alone, heart still racing from my climax.

“Unbelievable.” Whoever had called out for Paige was still in the bathroom so I remained hidden in the stall, “Give me a break, Azzi.” Paige replied and I was quickly met with silence as the two girls exited.

thank u for reading bbys, smooches!

#p5buecks #paige bueckers fanfiction #fanfiction #wlw #lesbian #smut #paige bueckers smut #one shot

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azzifuddfanpage · 21 hours ago

Note

Paige catching Azzi masturbating and she doesn’t let it go but instead tease her and join her in helping her cum

Caught

———— thank you for the prompt!!!🫶

ALSO PLEASE GIVE ME UR FEEDBACK AND COMMENTS OR IM NOT DOING ANOTHER PROMPT TN THANK YEW

———-

3.1k words tw: smut

themes: smut like all smut good luck 👍 (hope u sluts are happy 🤷‍♀️)

———— Paige and Azzi had spent the majority of the year attached at the hip.

When the espys rolled around and Paige had to fly out to Los Angeles, Azzi couldn’t help herself but miss her after spending almost every waking minute together.

“U really have to go?” Azzi asked, her arms connected tightly against Paige's waist, and her face nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

Paige took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Azzi’s coconut lavender shampoo.

“I know baby, I have to go, but it’s only for a few days, and I’ll FaceTime you every night.”

“Better be everyday too.” Azzi pouted.

Paige's heart warmed seeing her girl all clingy to her, and she tightened her grip around her.

As happy and blessed she was to be given this opportunity, she was sad she couldn’t have her best friend/ girlfriend beside her.

———

Seeing Paige in the suit, her hair pulled back into the low messy bun, her eyes sparkling under the spotlight. Azzi couldn’t hide the nagging heat between her thighs that was desperate to be settled.

Paige was originally supposed to come home 2 days after the espys.

The first day after was filled with parties, and then the second day she had to meet with someone to work on her nil deal with her shoes.

What Azzi didn’t know was that Paige had changed her flight, and instead of flying out that next morning, she would fly out that afternoon.

———

Azzi on the other hand had more important things to worry about, more specifically, the evolving heat in her core that had been growing since the day Paige left.

She tried to ignore it, she tried to distract herself by watching frozen (5 times), working on extra skills in the gym (even though there was only so much she could do since her last injury), or even learning how to make baked Mac and cheese from scratch (one of paige’s favorites), but none of it seemed to scratch the itch that was so badly limiting her.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to skip out on watching the espys that night.

So when she clicked on the tv and saw the way Paige's fingers wrapped around the mic, she was already very fragile.

Somehow she managed to hold off that entire night and into the next day.

She continued to keep herself busy like she had done before, going to rehab, focusing on the summer classes she had taken to work through her masters, but by the time that evening rolled around and she opened TikTok she knew she was screwed.

The first video on her for you page was an edit of Paige in her espys fit.

Azzi’s eyes glazed over as she saw the way Paige's nimble fingers grasped the microphone, the level of confidence seeping out of her as she spoke. But what did it for her most was the way her veins popped in her arms the same way they did when her fingers were thrusting in and out of Azzi’s lower stomach, desperate to please her.

Azzi looked at her phone, the ache in her stomach too strong to ignore, she moved her fingers down to her waist band and slipped them into her panties, her clit already sensitive to the touch as she rubbed against it, collecting her stick from the entrance of her hole.

She moaned at the contact, her eyes focusing on the video of Paige, her Paige, she imagined her fingers were Paige's needy long fingers that could never stay off Azzi.

Azzi didn’t even feel embarrassed at this point, it wasn’t like she had never done it before, when they had been long distance before they had to use similar methods, but now, she wasn’t used to this.

The feeling of her own fingers against her skin, would never match Paige's.

Paige knew her body better then she did, knew what made her whimper, what made her legs shake, what made her white syrup spill as Paige thrusted against her g spot.

As Azzi slugged off her shorts and began to lazily fuck her fingers into herself, she could already feel a release brewing, but it wasn’t the same. She felt as though the release she had was bottled up for so long that it was stuck.

Azzi fucked herself, transitioning between thrusts in and out of herself, to soft rubs and aggressive rubs on her clit, she went back and forth with this for a while, her orgasim remaining close but still so far.

Azzi let out a frustrated moan, her focus going back to the video, pretending her fingers were Paige's, persistent and begging to be swallowed by Azzi’s needy pussy.

Azzi threw her head back moaning Paige's name.

——-

Paige was honestly tired from her long day of flying, but after 3 days without seeing Azzi, she too not only missed her emotionally, but she also had an ache between her legs that only a curly haired brunette guard from UConn could cure.

Paige walked into the suite and was met with an overwhelming layer of silence.

She wanted to surprise Azzi.

When Paige finally pushed open the door, she saw Azzi’s legs spread open, her fingers desperately against herself.

Paige felt her knees buckle at the sight.

The way Azzi was folded over, her body spread out on the bed, a bead of sweat running down her forehead.

She watched as Azzi’s fingers dip lazily into her hole.

Paige continued standing there, her eyes unable to leave her girlfriend's vulnerable frame.

Azzi threw her head back- eyes still shut- as she moaned.

“Paige.” Azzi whimpered, her phone still lying forgotten in front of her.

Paige smirked hearing Azzi’s breathy whimper of her name.

“Not even locking the door first damn az.” Paige finally spoke, breaking the silence.

Azzi let out a yelp, jumping at the sudden unexpected presence in her room.

Pulling out her fingers she threw the blanket over her.

“JESUS PAIGE WHAT THE FUCK” Azzi said a little out of breath from how startled she was.

“you actually just scared the living fuck out of me.” Azzi continued rubbing her face with her hand (not the one that was just inside of her)

“Ya literally” Paige snorted, walking closer to her and pulling down the sheets exposing Azzi’s naked frame.

Her nipples were hard from the cold air, and Paige could see how wet she was under the light.

“Really couldn’t wait for me, could you baby?” Paige said, running her finger along Azzi’s abs.

Azzi shuddered under her contact, shaking her head embarrassed.

“I tried- just missed you badly.” Azzi said ashamed, her eyes subconsciously darting to her phone.

Paige looked at Azzi’s phone and then back at her. Both their eyes darted back and forth.

Paige lunged for the phone at the same time as Azzi, beating her there.

Flipping it over she unlocked it and smirked when she saw the edit of her playing on the screen.

Azzi threw a hand to cover her face.

“I’m never gonna hear the end of this am I?” Azzi asked, burying her face in the pillow.

“Not if you want me to help you baby.” Paige says, putting down her phone with a smirk.

She pulled Azzi's hand away from her face, using her fingers to tilt her chin towards her.

“Missed this pretty face so much.” Paige whispered, leaning forward and climbing onto the bed so she was now hovering over Azzi.

Paige ran her hand along Azzi’s neck, moving it up and tracing along her jaw.

She leaned forward and placed a soft open mouth kiss on the soft skin under her ear.

Azzi let out a whimper, her hips wiggling as Paige adjusted her position, her legs straddling either side of her.

“So needy baby.” Paige whispered as she sucked a little on Azzi’s skin, releasing it and licking over the reddened skin with her tongue.

“Please.” Azzi moaned as Paige's tongue licked at her lip, dipping inside.

Paige pulled her tongue away, sitting up slightly so she could look at Azzi’s desperate state underneath her.

“Tell me how much better I am at fucking you.” Paige whispered, as she watched Azzi’s lips pucker in the air, reaching out for Paige's.

Azzi’s eyes opened as she pouted.

Paige laughed, her finger tugging at her puffy bottom lip.

“Do u want me to help you finish or should I just let you finish yourself off.” Paige said simply, her finger running back down and connecting with her neck as Paige's lips connected back to Azzi’s.

As their tongues massaged against each other, Paige smirked against her.

Paige softly bit against Azzi’s lip, tugging at it and listening to the soft sigh that left her.

When she finally sat up, Azzi whined.

“Paigeee.” She whined.

“Fine if your gonna be difficult, you’re gonna keep fucking your sled and we’ll see how far you get.” Paige decided, sliding backwards off Azzi’s bed, and facing her.

Azzi’s face turned red as she watched Paige needily stare at her throbbing pussy.

“Don’t be shy now baby- all u have to tell me is how much better I am at making you finish.” Paige said with a smirk, her eyes running over her folds.

Azzi, being the stubborn person she was, refused to let Paige win this.

She rolled her eyes and moved her fingers back down to her pussy, running them through the wetness that had collected near her hole.

She moaned at the much needed contact, and began to rub her fingers in small circles over her clit.

“Look at me while you do it.” Paige said her voice was soft but firm.

Azzi looked up at her slowly, her breath shakily.

When her eyes met Paige's, and she saw how dilated they were-drunk on the sight of her pussy, she almost came right from that.

“You know if I was touching you right now, I would have had you cum by now.” She said confidently, smirking as she watched Azzi crumble under her eye contact.

Azzi blushed even more, looking away from Paige and focusing back on pleasing herself.

Her fingers moved away from her clit, traveling down and dipping into her entrance.

She inserted two of them gently, thrusting and curling them against herself.

She let out a seductive moan that sent shivers down Paige's spine.

Paige wanted nothing more than to shove Azzi’s hand aside and take her right there, but she was also stubborn.

She watched helplessly as Azzi’s fingers curled into her pussy, thrusting them in and out, speeding up.

Azzi moaned, sitting up on her elbow to give herself a better angle.

As much as Azzi didn’t want to give in, she knew she wouldn’t even have to. She knew paige.

If Paige wanted to eat, she would eat.

Azzi looked up at her, “Paige.” She moaned, staring at her intently until Paige's eyes- that were entranced by her fingers- found hers.

“Fuck it.” Paige said practically jumping on her, ripping her hand away from herself and diving her mouth into Azzi’s pussy.

Azzi let out a laugh as Paige tongue tickled her inner thigh.

“Fucking always get ur way don’t u princess.” Paige said as her tongue ran against Azzi’s wetness, spreading it across her pussy.

Azzi moaned loudly, her hand coming and wrapping in Paige's hair tugging her closer to her core.

Paige dipped her tongue into her whole, thrusting it in a couple times as her finger played with her clit.

Azzi let out a whine, needing more stimulation.

Paige brought her tongue up to her clit, exchanging the pressure of her tongue, for her pressure of her fingers, now filling her.

As Paige sucked and pulled on Azzi’s clit, her 3 fingers went to work, thrusting in and out.

Azzi, who had already gotten herself very close before, was now gripping at Paige's scalp, Paige's fingers slamming against her walls.

“Fuck P.” She moaned as paige lapped at her clit.

Azzi adjusted her position, sitting up on her elbows to watch her as her fingers stilled inside her.

Feeling Azzi’s eyes on her, Paige looked up, still pulling on her clit.

The sight of Paige's big blue eyes completely drunk off her pussy, the feeling of her fingers thrusting back into her, and her tongue flicking at her clit, was all too much for her.

“Fuck paige I’m gonna cum.”

Paige smirked as she could feel Azzi’s legs shake.

Her fingers stilted inside her, and she lifted her head to her ear, letting her lips tickle it.

“Tell me how good I am to you.” She paused, pressing her lips to Azzi’s ear. Azzi moaned, the throbbing between her legs, too much for her to take.

“Fuck need you to fuck me paige please.” She whined, giving in as Paige sucked at her neck.

“Tell me how much better I am at fucking you.” She whispered, her tongue soothing the now purple skin.

Paige moaned into her ear and Azzi caved, “fuck you know my body so well baby. You’re so good, please continue.” Azzi whispered, her hips thrusting up to get some type of friction.

“If you insist.” Paige winked, her three fingers diving back down and fucking into her.

Azzi moaned, her abs flexing as she hunched over from the pressure of Paige's fingers hitting at her walls.

Azzi moaned, and Paige's fingers dove deeper inside.

Paige’s other hand grabbed Azzi’s stomach, pressing on it to stabilize herself.

Azzi felt her finger brush her g spot, and the band in her stomach snap.

Paige lowered herself down so she was angled at her pussy as she could hear her fingers squelching as Azzi released.

She drank up every bit of liquid that spilled from Azzi’s cunt.

“tastes so good, baby.” “Missed her so bad.” She said as she pulled out her fingers, letting more of Azzi’s cum spill out of her.

Azzi was a pile of moans, and Paige eventually pulled away from her cunt, climbing back up to connect with Azzi’s lips, letting her taste herself.

Paige swallowed Azzi’s moans as their tongues fought together.

After Azzi had caught her breath, she pulled Paige away from her.

“Hey just cuz I gave in and let you fuck me doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own.” Azzi assured, her eyes finding Paige's.

“Whatever you say baby.” Paige said, snuggling herself into the crook of Azzi’s arm.

“Wait no.” Azzi said, pushing her off of her.

Paige's head fell onto the bed.

“What are you talking about Azzi?” Paige sighed.

Azzi climbed on top of Paige so she was straddling her.

“Why don’t you think I could fuck myself as good as you do?” Azzi asked, holding Paige's arms down so she couldn't resist her.

“Nah I know u could, I’m just better.” She replied cheesing.

Azzi teasingly shoved her face away.

“Ya we’ll see about that.” Azzi said as Paige's face contorted into a confused look.

Azzi pulled up Paige's shirt, placing soft kisses above her sports bra.

Paige moaned as her teeth nipped gently at her skin.

Azzi pulled down her bra, exposing her hardened nipples.

Azzi looked up to find Paige already looking at her with big needy eyes.

Without looking away, Azzi leaned down and wrapped her mouth around Paige's nipple, pulling on it and releasing it with a pop.

She watched as Paige moaned, throwing her head back.

Azzi smirked as she left her bra up, keeping her tits out as she trailed down to Paige's waist band.

“Lift up for me baby.” Azzi said as she dipped her fingers into the band of her sweats.

Paige lifted her hips so Azzi could pull off her sweats.

Azzi threw them behind her, leaning down to level herself with Paige's pussy that was still covered by her boxers.

Azzi ran a finger over her clothes pussy feeling the slick through it.

“God Azzi.” Paige whimpered as Azzi pulled down her boxers too.

“Need you so bad princess.” Paige said, tangling her fingers in Azzi’s curls pulling her mouth towards her slick.

“Oh is that right?” Azzi said, her breath hitting against Paige's wet clit, sending a shiver through her body.

Paige whined at the feeling against her slick.

She nodded, but Azzi wasn’t satisfied.

“Well maybe u should just fuck yourself since you’re so much better than me.” Azzi teased, running her fingers on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her aching clit.

“Bruh come on you know I didn’t mean it baby.” Paige whimpered as Azzi’s fingers traced over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Maybe but I want you to tell me.” She whispered seductively, triggering a submissive reaction in Paige's body.

“Need your pretty fingers so bad sweet girl.” Paige moaned.

Azzi could have cum again just from Paige's words, instead she licked a long stripe up her pussy, rewarding her for good behavior.

Paige moaned, shifting her body so her hips were elevated and pressing into Azzi’s mouth.

Azzi switched to kitten licks against her clit, motivated by her words.

“Such a good girl- doing me so well.” Paige moaned, running her fingers through Azzi’s curls, pulling them back and away from her face.

Azzi sucked on her clit, and her fingers ran through her wetness, dipping into her hole.

“Please baby- need you so bad pretty.” Paige moaned as her fingers inched deeper into her slowly.

Azzi felt Paige's breath shift underneath her.

“Ya you like that don’t you. Just love fucking this pussy huh baby?” Paige growled.

Azzi didn’t answer, instead she responded by thrusting her fingers deeper into Paige's pussy, thrusting them in and out.

Paige groaned, her hand pushing Azzi’s head into her pussy so she was sucking on it harder.

“Right there fuck baby you’re so good.” Paige moaned as Azzi’s fingers pounded against her g spot.

Azzi smirked against her clit, Paige's hand directing her movements so her tongue was now rubbing up and down against it.

With her fingers still fucking deep inside her walls, and her tongue sucking and lapping at her clit, paige could feel the orgasm closing in on her.

“Gonna cum baby…fuck.” Paige moaned, her legs shaking around Azzi's body.

Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige's thighs, pulling her so she was closer to her.

Azzi sat up a little, pulling paige into her lap to change her angle, fucking her fingers deeper inside her, letting paige’s moans fill the air.

Paige moaned loudly as Azzi’s teeth grazed her sensitive clit.

Before she could even realize what was happening, her cum was pouring out of her and Azzi was greedily drinking it up.

Paige was still out of breath as Azzi rode out her high.

“You like the way I taste mama. you’re so perfect. Such a good girl eating me so well.” Paige says as she pulled a strand of Azzi’s curls out of her face and pulled it behind Azzi’s ear.

Azzi continued to fuck her through her high until paige was physically pushing her away and pulling her up so she was laying her on her stomach.

“You did so good pretty.” Paige whispered again to Azzi's cheek as she rubbed small circles against her bare skin.

Azzi sighed contently as she nuzzled deeper into Paige's chest, letting the warmth of Paige's skin surround her.

#azzi fudd #pazzi #paige bueckers #pazzi fics #pazzi fic #paige bueckers smut #paige x azzi #i love azzi fudd #azzi and paige #paige and azzi #azzi fudd smut

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literaryvein-reblogs · 1 day ago

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Writing your Character's "Inner Critic"

Inner Critic - a mental inner voice that criticizes and judges your actions, thoughts, and behaviors.

In the early 20th century, psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud referred to it as the “superego,” and it’s been a constant source of study ever since.

Learning to address the excesses of your critical inner voice is an important element of self-care and holistic well-being.

Popular psychology movements of today—like cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT)—assist individuals with reframing their inner critic’s negative thought processes.

Negative Thoughts From Your Inner Critic

Assessing your mental health means knowing when your inner critic is doing nothing but harm. Examples of an inner voice that engages in self-destructive behaviors:

Dwelling on the past: If you regularly beat yourself up for past mistakes and regrets about life experiences, recognize that many of these thoughts are self-defeating. Your inner critic draws on memories like this to keep you incapable of growing in the present moment.

Focusing on shortcomings: Your inner critic might be a perfectionist—holding you to impossibly high standards—or just constantly echo your deepest insecurities. If you think of yourself in the second person a lot—”you’re not good enough,” “you’ll never succeed,” and so on—you might be under the thumb of your inner critic.

Worrying about the future: You might constantly think that you’ll inevitably say or do something to destroy your future prospects. Your inner critic might insist bad things are inevitable and that you should always stay in your comfort zone since you’re bound to mess things up if you color outside the lines. Heeding these judgmental demands will limit your ability to grow and enjoy all life has to offer.

Ways Meditation Helps Counter the Inner Critic

Slowing down and centering your mind can help you combat the critical inner voice in your head. Here are just five ways meditation can help you:

Empowers you with positive affirmations: Through certain types of meditation—like metta or the “lovingkindness practice”—you can use upbuilding and compassionate thoughts and mantras to anchor your sense of self-compassion and combat the worst urges of your inner critic. These affirmations help reorient your mind in a positive direction holistically.

Enables you to recognize impermanence: At the center of meditative practice is a recognition that the present moment is ever fleeting. As soon as you pay attention to one breath, your mind whisks away to some stray thought. The more you do this—always returning to the subject of meditative focus—the more you’ll see your mind divert to your inner critic’s viewpoint. It’ll become obvious as you continue to meditate that it’s just one point of view among many—and you can pay attention to its demands or ignore it just the same.

Encourages you to determine what’s of value: Not all self-criticism is bad. You should discard needlessly negative thoughts, but you can turn the inner critic into one of your best friends if you tame its voice. The equanimity brought on through meditation helps you see when a critical thought can be constructive or when you should ignore it for being untrue and damaging.

Gives you an opportunity to practice compassion: A mindfulness practice allows you to see yourself from the outside looking in—and this experience often brings about a sense of self-compassion. As you meditate, you can see and feel the damage the inner critic is doing to you from an objective standpoint. This can lead you to treat yourself more kindly and, as a result, treat others more kindly, too.

Helps you detach from your ego: Meditation allows you to reorient your sense of self-esteem away from the attachments of your ego. By distancing yourself from your ego (or “I, me, mine” thoughts) in general, you also distance yourself and even silence your inner critic. Although it might sound contradictory, thinking less about yourself, in general, can significantly boost self-confidence overall.

At its best, the inner critic is one voice among many—and you can take it or leave it.

If you can sift through these self-critical thoughts objectively and analytically, you can discover whether they’re valuable or merely detrimental and untrue.

The former can help you improve as a person; the latter will only bring you down.

At its worst, the inner critic can act as an intrusive, overpowering force—wracking you with unnecessary self-doubt and causing insecurity, depression, and anxiety.

Letting your inner critic run roughshod over you like this usually isn’t healthy.

Managing this facet of your inner dialogue can lead to positive personal growth possibilities, but left to its own devices, it can cause an overwhelming amount of negative self-talk and low self-esteem.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

#inner critic #writing notes #character development #writeblr #writing reference #literature #writers on tumblr #dark academia #spilled ink #writing prompt #creative writing #light academia #writing inspiration #writing ideas #character building #writing resources

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melosliving · 1 day ago

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im not sure if you did this yet BUT HEAR ME OUTTT, what if reader played in a movie with both aaron and kelvin and they are doing a interview together and they both discreetly see reader fidgeting with her hands and dress and try to secretly stop her and then after the interview is over they talk to her about it because its been going on for a minute…

Let me cook girl 😎 thanks for your request baby ❤️❤️

aaron pierre n kelvin harrison jr x actress!reader

you’re a nervous little thing…

warnings : dissociation

Press days are nothing new. You’ve done this a hundred times before—same routine, different city. Bright lights, velvet chairs, a round of staged laughs and knowing glances. Kelvin cracking jokes, Aaron making effortless comebacks, you sitting between them, playing the perfect balance to their chaos. It’s familiar. Easy.

But today, something feels off.

You’re aware of the cameras, the energy of the room, the way your dress sits against your skin—but it all feels distant, like you’re watching from somewhere outside yourself. Your hands won’t stay still, fingers brushing over the fabric of your dress, tapping against your knee, pressing against your rings. The voices around you sound far away, the world slightly out of sync.

Then you feel something. Aaron shifts beside you, the movement so small it’s barely noticeable, but suddenly his knee is pressed lightly against yours. But it his his hand that makes you aware of what you were doing. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t make a show of it, just lets the warmth of his hand seep into you like an anchor.

A beat later, Kelvin exhales through his nose, almost like a sigh, and leans back in his chair, arms resting on the armrests—but one of them, the one closest to you, brushes against your own. The weight is barely there, just the slightest pressure of skin against skin, but it’s intentional.

You breathe in slowly, focusing on that—on them. On the way their presence feels steady, how they’ve closed in around you just enough to remind you that you’re not drifting alone.

“You good?” Kelvin’s voice is low, casual enough that no one else would catch the concern tucked beneath it.

You nod, just once. He doesn’t push. Neither does Aaron. But they don’t move away either.

The interviewer shifts in her seat, oblivious. “So, let’s talk about the chemistry between you three, because it’s insane in this film,” she says, laughing. “Was that something you had to work on, or was it natural?”

Aaron tilts his head slightly, smirking. “I mean, that’s all her. I think she is what makes us look and feel so real.” He nods in your direction. “She makes it easy.”

Kelvin hums in agreement. “Yeah, don’t let her fool you. She’s got people thinking we were actually in love out here.”

You huff a small laugh, trying to shake the fog in your head. “You two were just as bad.”

Aaron turns toward Kelvin with a knowing look. “I did catch you staring a few times.”

Kelvin scoffs. “Excuse You, you were the one looking at my mouth every other scene.”

Aaron raises a brow. “Because you wouldn’t stop licking your lips.” Kelvin gestures toward you. “Well, she kept whispering in my ear, so how was I supposed to focus?”

You blink at him. “That was literally in the script.”

Aaron exhales dramatically. “Didn’t have to say it like that, though.” Kelvin hums. “Yeah, some of those lines felt… personal.”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You two are ridiculous.”

Aaron grins, shifting slightly so his elbow just barely nudges against yours. “And yet, you keep coming back.”

Kelvin leans in, voice dropping just enough that only you can hear. “You okay now?” You nod again. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Kelvin holds your gaze for a second longer before leaning back. Aaron doesn’t say anything, just taps his fingers lightly against your knee once—brief, barely noticeable—before returning his hand to his lap.

The conversation moves on, but the weight in your chest feels a little lighter. The moment the cameras stop rolling, Kelvin turns to you.

“You been doing that a lot lately,” he says, voice quieter now, more serious. Aaron is watching you too, brow slightly furrowed. “Spacing out like that.”

You hesitate, fingers grazing over the rings on your hand again. “It’s nothing. Just happens sometimes.”

Kelvin tilts his head. “You telling us that, or yourself?” You sigh, pressing your lips together. “Both ? I’m fine.”

Aaron doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he reaches out, smoothing the fabric of your sleeve, his touch light, absentminded. “You don’t have to go through it alone, you know.”

Kelvin exhales, shaking his head. “Yeah. Next time, just tap one of us or somethin’. Let us bring you back.”

You glance between them, their expressions soft, steady, patient. You nod. “Yeah.”

Aaron studies you for a second longer before giving a small, satisfied nod. Then, because he can’t not do it, he smirks. “Or, you know, you could just sit next to me all the time. Let me hold your hand before you start floating off somewhere.”

Kelvin scoffs. “Here he go.”

Aaron shrugs. “I’m just sayin’, I’m right here—”

Kelvin rolls his eyes. “And I’m right here. Not you trying to steal my shine,”

Aaron smirks, leaning in slightly. “Yeah, but she likes me better.” Kelvin huffs out a laugh, then turns to you, expression playful. “Is that true?”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “I’m literally leaving.”

Kelvin grins. “Nah, we’re takin’ you to get food first.” Aaron hums. “Yeah, you definitely need to eat.”

You sigh, but there’s no real protest. “Fine.”

By the time you check your phone, Twitter is already spiraling.

“Kelvin and Aaron subtly closing in around her when she started dissociating… I need a moment.”

“No one’s talking about how Aaron just naturally reached for her hand without even looking? Hello???”

“Kelvin whispering ‘you okay now?’ with that serious look??? SIR, PLEASE.”

“They’re so soft with her but still manage to be the most unserious men alive. It’s unfair.”

@ melosliving 2025

#aaron pierre #mufasa : the lion king #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x reader #aaron pierre fluff #kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin harrison jr x reader #kelvin harrison jr fluff #kelvin harrion jr x black!reader #actress!reader

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kaisentine · 2 days ago

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HELPP you feel like such a thirdwheel with sae and shidou but neither of them want you to leave. this was my inspo to write this cuz i thought it was funny! ( what if i do one w nagireo LMFAO )

why the fuck is ryusei spoon-feeding sae. who was going to tell you that shidou ryusei smothering itoshi sae was going to give you nightmares?

it’s quite a disturbing sight if you say so yourself. look, you generally don’t give a fuck about what they do behind closed doors or literally anywhere where you aren’t there but you’re here now! watching a scene equivalent to a horror movie that relies solely on their lame-ass jumpscares. but it’s so not fiction and even more horrifying.

this is really corny. you think seeing ryusei and sae during U20 was the worst thing you could possibly see? think again. as if ryusei didn’t already not give a damn about the prying eyes and the cameras ( sae’s PR team weren’t having a good time ) and you sure as hell know he doesn’t give a damn right now. your nightmares will probably consist of the scene unfolding in front of your eyes.

yeah this is totally normal—a grown pro athlete man being spoon-fed by another grown man, what the eff do they think they’re doing? they got the real nerve to to be doing it while you’re eating too, how’d ryusei even convince sae to accept this? ( a lot of violence🤗 )

you’ve been relying on your phone and eating to distract yourself from the scene—you aren’t just going to let good food go to waste! actually, your phone went black a few minutes ago but there’s no way in hell you’re going to entertain yourself with eye-torture, you’re really just focused on finishing the contents on your plate to go to another area.

by some kind of curse, you eat like a sloth when there isn’t something actively happening on your screen—you might just need to find an exorcist to fix that problem. . . ( rin ). that’s for another time, however.

you almost sigh in relief after your last spoonful but you don’t in fear of them realizing you’re still there ( you’re convinced that ryusei forgot you’re there ). you stood up from your chair as discreetly as you could—taking extra care in not making the chair squeak. the chair you were originally sitting on was next to the demon while sae was sitting across from you two.

just as you were about to quietly take your leave, sae’s eyes gave your escape plan away. “where’d you think you’re goin’?” ryusei asks, snapping his head to you. caught red-handed, damn you itoshi sae! “i finished eating and i thought i’d. . .give you two some alone time. . . ?” you respond like you’re being held hostage ( you are ).

“you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

bonus : this is an unexpected outcome. “c’mon, you’ve been refusing for like 5 minutes,” he complains when you keep your mouth closed even to his attempts of pushing the utensil past your lips. you find the chance to speak when he retracts his arm back with a sigh. “ryu. . . i’m not some kind of baby and i ate already.” you deadpan with crossed arms. “nope! you’re actually actin’ like a big baby!” the man says in between wretched laughter you hate to hear. in despair, you turn your head to the other man beside you, “. . .how are you enduring this?” you ask. his head doesn’t turn but his teal eyes do—giving you a glaring side-eye that says ‘save me.’. the aftermath of whatever the fuck just happened is basically you and sae ganging up on ryusei and taking turns beating him up.

#ᥫ᭡ love note #idontthinkievenshipthem #this is honestly just crack #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #shidou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader

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guess-my-next-obsession · 22 hours ago

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endure & survive | iv. the storm

pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x single mother!reader

chapter content: MINORS DNI, written in dual POV/first person POV, no description/name given to reader, reader is a single mother, age gap (twenty-ish years), descriptions of blood/stitches, grief, talks of dead bodies, panic attack, unproofread bc i’m lazy

word count: 2.8k

series masterlist | previous chapter

JOEL

“Everybody good?” It’s a question meant for one person in particular—the woman that just got the air kicked out of her—but with what the kids just saw, there’s no harm in asking them, too.

“Good,” Ellie says, although her voice is quiet. Even if I didn’t know her, I’d be able to tell that she’s lost in her head. After what she did, I’d be lost, too.

“I need…” My attention lands on our host—Red, I think I’ll call her, to match the fire in her eyes. She’s resting one arm against the kitchen counter, the other cradling her ribs. “I don’t know.”

I’m walking over to her before I even realize I’m doing it, my hands reaching out to steady her as she sways a bit and goes clammy. “Y’need to lay down.”

“Need to wash…the blood…” I look down, scanning her body to find a clean slice up her arm dripping blood onto the wooden planks beneath us.

“Shit,” I curse under my breath. Guiding her over to one of the chairs at the dining table, I have to glower at her to get her to sit. “Y’got a med kit?”

She nods, weakly pointing to the cabinet above the sink.

“Ellie, can you boil some water?” I glance at her as I reach to grab the med kit, finding her still in that state of shock.

She needs to get up, to find ways to busy her mind and hands so that she’s not replaying the events from earlier. I know it better than anybody.

“Ellie,” I call again, this time breaking through to her. “Need some help, kid.”

“Right,” she says, her voice still softer than I’d like. “Water, you said?”

“Yeah,” I manage, keeping one eye on her and one on the woman in front of me half-ready to faint. “Quickly as you can manage.”

“Got it.”

Focusing back on Red, I pull up a chair in front of her. “Gonna need to stitch you up.”

“I can…take care of…myself.”

“You can’t even talk,” I grunt, shaking my head at her as I lay out the contents of the kit in front of us. Needles, thread, an antiseptic that I hope still works.

“You even know…what you’re doing?” Even bleeding out and winded, she’s still coming at me.

I have no fuckin’ clue as to why I like it so much.

“Ain’t my first time stitchin’ up an awnry woman, if that’s what you mean.” I don’t want to think about the last woman I tended to like this. If I do, I’ll just get angry all over again. Angry and hurt. “Might leave a scar, though.”

“Mama,” Colt comes up to her, sticking to her side like glue. “What’s gonna happen to you?”

She softens, forcing a smile onto her clammy face. “Well, Joel here…is gonna…stitch me up. Y’know…how I like to…sew?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well…Joel’s just gonna…sew my cut up,” she says, raising her free hand up to his face. “It sounds scarier…than it is.”

“Okay,” he says, blowing out a breath of air. “I’ll hold your hand, just in case it hurts.”

I might be a cold-hearted bastard, but damn it if the sight of Colt and Red together doesn’t warm my soul just a little bit.

“Water’s boiling,” Ellie announces, joining us at the table.

“Alright, soon as it reaches a boil, I need you t’take it off the heat and let it cool a little bit before bringing me a bowl full,” I instruct. “As for you, Red, I’m gonna need you t’sit right here and not bleed out in the meantime.”

“Got nothing better to do,” she says, one corner of her mouth twitching just the slightest bit.

Ignoring the strange feeling stirring in my chest—one I’m sure is a result of the adrenaline high I’m coming off of—I head over to the bathroom and rinse the blood off my hands with the leftover water sitting in a bucket inside the empty bathtub. It’s not the most sanitary of set-ups, but it’s better than nothing.

“Hey,” Ellie pokes her head in the bathroom, locking eyes with me in the vanity mirror. “What, uh, what are we doing about the dead dudes?”

“Don’t know,” I say as I scrub my hands with soap. “Don’t deserve a burial, in my humble opinion.”

“I just mean…like…are we good here?”

I contemplate her question for a few seconds. Truthfully, I’ve got no fuckin’ idea if it’s safe to be here. Those fucks outside could be apart of a larger group and just got dealt the shit end of the recon stick for all I know. So, I settle on the truth. “I don’t know, Ellie. Regardless, no one’s gonna be comin’ out this way in the storm. Once it passes, we’ll be on our way like we planned to.”

“And them?” she asks, her brows lacing together. “We’re just going to leave them behind?”

Rinsing my hands off and grabbing a cloth to wipe them dry, I turn to face her with an exasperated look. It’s been a hell of a fucking afternoon. My body is drained. My mind is all over the place. I’m not in the position to stretch myself any thinner than I already have.

“Ellie, this is their home,” I whisper, gesturing towards where Colt and Red sit just on the other side of the wall. “She can decide what she wants to do. All I’m worried about is us.”

“There’s not an ounce of sympathy left in that cold heart of yours?” She’s getting pissed now, just another part of her dealing with what she did out there in the woods.

“Sympathy won’t keep us alive,” I say, moving past her.

READER

Joel’s hands are warm. Rough, yes, but so fucking warm. And surprisingly gentle.

He’s got one hand resting beneath my forearm as it lays on the table, squeezing both sides of my wound together as he stitches it closed. He just finished washing it clean, his fingers gentle as he dragged the damp cloth along the slice until it was no longer caked in dark blood. He’s by no means a surgeon, but damn it if he’s not completely focused and careful with me.

It’s painfully attractive. Even if the guy still pisses me off with all of his grunts and scowling.

Then again, I always did find competency sexy. It was the main reason Kit ever made it out of the friend zone back in QZ.

A man who can take care of shit is an entirely different level of desirable.

“You have done this before, haven’t you?” I don’t know why I’m making conversation, other than the fact that for the first time in the last hour, I can speak without feeling like I’m going to pass out.

Between the chest kick that knocked the wind out of me and the slice across my arm, I’m surprised I made it this long without fainting.

“Yep,” he says, sighing a little bit.

“Surprising,” is all I reply. He glances up from his work and pins me with dark eyes, but I’m quick to look away. Instead, I turn to look at Ellie and Colt in the middle of the living room, sitting side by side on the floor as they color in companionable silence. They’re both handling this better than I would, especially Ellie.

“Why?” Joel’s soft, deep voice brings my eyes back to him, but thankfully, he’s not looking at me this time.

“Just don’t seem like the caretaking type is all.”

“Right,” he murmurs. “Because travelin’ around the country with a teenager doesn’t involve any caretakin’.”

“Ellie seems pretty self-sufficient, that’s all I mean.”

“Still a kid,” he says, stabbing the needle through my flesh quickly enough that I barely register the pain. “Still someone to take care of.”

“She yours?” I’ve been meaning to ask ever since they arrived, but between our little arguments and then staying out in the shed, there hasn’t been much of an opportunity to pry.

“No,” he replies, pursing his lips.

“How long have you been watching over her, then?”

“Since summer,” he says. “Promised someone I’d take her across the country. It’s taken us this long to get here.”

I nod, not wanting to ask for anything more than he’s given me. Lord knows I certainly haven’t been all that giving in terms of my history.

“What about you?” he asks, sticking me with the needle again. “I’m assumin’ he’s yours.”

“Yeah,” I smile softly, my eyes wandering to Colt. “He’s mine.”

“And the father?”

I suck in a deep breath and let my eyes fall to my lap. “He died before Colt was born.”

Joel’s eyes flicker up to meet mine. “You gave birth by yourself?”

I nod, chuckling a bit at the memory. “And I’ll never do it again.”

Joel’s lips threaten to curl upwards. “Can’t say I blame you.”

It’s odd making conversation that doesn’t end with me calling him a dick or him judging my parental skills, but what’s even more strange is that I’m starting to think he’s not a dick at all.

Or maybe he is, but only when he wants to be. Maybe he’s a dick because it’s the safer option out here. I sure as hell haven’t been the most friendly person in the world.

“So…about what happened out there,” I say, my free hand tracing the hole in my jeans at my knee in order to distract myself from what I know is inevitable. “We’re not safe out here, are we?”

Joel’s jaw clenches a bit as he works the final swipe of his needle through me. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath, hoping Colt’s keen ears don’t pick up on it.

“You’re safe out here at least until the storm passes through,” Joel says as consolation, his fingers working quickly to tie the thread into a knot before he’s wrapping my arm up in a bandage.

“It could be over with by tomorrow,” I say, lifting my eyes to meet his. “I don’t…I don’t know if I can make it out there on my own, not with Colt. I’m not like you, and he’s not like Ellie. We’re…too soft.”

Joel’s eyes grow stern, his hand still holding my arm even though he’s finished with sewing me up. “Trust me, Red, you’re anything but soft.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “You don’t know me. I might pretend to be brave, but…deep down, I’m just scared.”

“Y’don’t think I’m scared every goddamn day out there?” His voice is low, hushed to the point that I have to lean in to hear him. “It’s alright to be scared shitless. What’s not alright is to give up. You stay out here, y’all are just sittin’ ducks waitin’ for someone to come by and take everything from you. Now, I don’t know you well enough to trust you, but I trust that you’ll do anything to save that boy of yours. You’ll find a way to be brave.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat and give him a nod. It’s all I can do not to cry.

I wish Kit were here.

I wish I didn’t have to go through this alone and make these decisions.

Most of all, I wish Colt never had to live in this dangerous, uncertain world.

“Listen, I gotta talk this through with Ellie, but…” He rubs the scruff on his chin, appearing at war with himself for what he’s about to say. “Maybe y’all can tag along with us, least until you find someplace to settle.”

I give him a wary, almost skeptical look. “We don’t trust each other.”

“No, we don’t,” he agrees, shrugging one shoulder as he lets his hands finally slip away from my arm. “But we’ve both had plenty of chances to kill each other and haven’t yet. I figure as long as we continue like that, we’ll be alright.”

“I’ll keep my end of the bargain if you do, too,” I say, holding my free hand out for him to shake on. Joel eyes it for a moment before grasping it in his warm grasp.

Still so rough.

Still so gentle.

JOEL

“Jesus, is it like this every winter out here?” Ellie asks, sitting beside me at the table while we eat the dinner Red whipped up for us.

I’d offered to help—actually, I’d offered to do it myself—but ever the stubborn asshole, she refused to let me do so much as boil water. Tess always told me I was the most stubborn person on the planet, but I think she’d change her mind if she ever met Red.

”It ebbs and flows,” Red says, wiping her mouth with a cloth. “Some winters it’s calm, barely snows more than a few inches. Some winters—like this one—are brutal.”

My eyes flicker to the boy sitting beside her, his chair scooted up so close to hers he might as well have been sitting in her lap. He’s clutching his spoon hard enough to bend it, and his eyes—eyes that don’t match his mother’s—look wild. Red catches me staring, watching her son like he’s a wolf bronco that might buck at me any minute.

“Colt and I always get a little jittery when a storm like this rolls through,” she says, reaching her hand over to rub her son's shoulder. “But it’s nothing we haven’t faced before, right?”

“Mmhm,” he manages, clearly trying to put on a brave face for his mom.

I hate how much it reminds me of Sarah.

I hate being forced to revisit old wounds I haven’t touched in decades.

Most of all, I hate hating the memory of my daughter. She deserves to be remembered without all these extra emotions that come along with it.

Regret.

Anger.

Shame.

Letting my spoon drop into my bowl with a clank, I push my chair back and stand up abruptly, drawing all eyes. “‘Scuse me. I need…uh, need some air.”

I turn to walk towards the door to the cabin, hearing Red call out behind me. “Wait—out there?”

I don’t stop. I can’t.

My ears are ringing, my hands are numb, and all I can think to do is get up and go. I need to be alone. I need to not break down in front of Ellie. In front of Red and her boy.

The icy wind hits me as soon as I step out of the cabin, flecks of snow whirring in front of me and cutting into the warmth of my skin, but it’s a welcome sensation. I’d rather feel something than nothing, and if putting my body into shock is what I need to snap out of it, I’ll gladly sit out here in this blizzard for hours.

“Joel, come back inside!” I expect the person to come chasing after me to be the awnry fourteen-year-old in my care, but it’s not. With a voice full of irritation, and even a little concern, Red is calling my name and shouting orders like she has any right to.

“I’m—“ The words aren’t coming out smoothly, not with the way I can’t seem to catch my breath. “Fine.”

“You’re walking into a blizzard!” she shouts.

“Just…go on back,” I manage, though it’s hard to register if I’m actually getting the words out or just thinking them. All I know is the haggard in and out of my breathing, the pounding in my chest, the empty feeling in my stomach.

Until she rests her hand on my shoulder.

Until I know her touch.

Her warmth.

The gentle squeeze of her hand as she brings me back to myself.

“Come back inside,” she says, her voice softer than it’s ever been towards me. When my eyes settle, the haze turning to clarity, I find her expression just as soft. Just as gentle. “You can freak out in the bathroom if you want. It’s too fucking cold out here and Ellie said if I didn’t get you to come back inside, she’d come out here next.”

I let out a chuckle, or what’s meant to be a chuckle, and nod my head slowly. “Alright, Red.”

And just like that, I’ve gone and done the most dangerous thing a person can do out here.

I’ve made a friend.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller series #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller story #joel miller tlou #tlou joel #joel the last of us #endure & survive

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finishhimwithlove · 2 days ago

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Mortal Kombat X Reader Headcanons

Bi-Han X Reader

TW: Bi-Han being a man baby, Bi-Han and reader being a lil frisky, Cursing, Mistakes because I whipped this out in an hour

Description: General headcanons about what it's like to be in a relationship with Bi-Han

Being Bi-Han's lover is no easy task despite what people around you may think or say, not that anyone would say it to your face

But anytime you and Bi-Han are together, even if it's just for a passing moment to pass off papers or discuss something important, you hear the whispers starting

"Hmph, Y/N gets special treatment just because they keep the Grandmaster's bed warm at night..!"

You can't give them a reaction beyond rolling your eyes or turning away, it only adds more gossip

You have to be adept at handling the gossip because when Bi-Han is the one who hears them, he is instantly enraged and making threats

"And just what do you bring to the Lin Kuei besides disappointment?"

He's backing the blabber-mouth into a corner, physically and verbally, towering over them and not giving them room to even apologize

Yet all it takes to bring him back down from his anger is the sound of your voice and a gentle hand on his arm, huffing in irritation as he steps back and let's the trainee ninja scurry away

If you're bothered by what they said, then he will take a moment to comfort you, albeit rather awkwardly as he strokes your cheek and grumbles about teaching them a lesson

If you're not concerned with the gossip then he feels almost embarrassed for getting so worked up, huffing and walking away before you can tease him

"But I like warming your bed~!"

If you're a fighter then you and Bi-Han often spar together, the two of you keeping each other sharp and trying out new moves. If you're on the same level as him, then he will allow you to teach the Lin Kuei as well

Lowkey is turned on by the sight of you fighting and completely dominating a battle

If you're not as good as him then he will take it upon himself to give you private lessons so that his most precious person is able to defend themselves against danger and honor the name Lin Kuei

Either way, most private sessions between you two almost always end up with him on top of you, kissing you roughly while your hands scrabble to pull him impossibly closer to you

"Must you always tempt me?"

If you're not a fighter then Bi-Han will aim to change that, giving you lessons in self defense if he can bully you into it but if he's unable to then you're always going to have a personal body guard around

And not just any Lin Kuei will be assigned to you either, Bi-Han is exceptionally picky about who is up to snuff to keep you safe but also not try to make a move on you

Because come on, he knows you're turning heads, and he absolutely will not share you or let anyone steal you from him

His protectiveness is 110% worse if you're in a profession where you have fans

Whenever Bi-Han is the one protecting you(he refuses to admit he just wanted to spend time with you) he keeps a strong hand on your hip the entire time, always glaring around like someone is going to attack you both

Not that you mind, moments like that are often your only chance to cuddle up to him because he's so focused. So let yourself rest your head on him and place a hand on his firm chest, take in his scent and listen to his steady heartbeat

PDA minimal if not entirely nonexistent with Bi-Han, but when you two are alone, then it's a completely different story

It's not something either of you can help, from the moment you two had met each other there was this intensity between you two. Something hot, cold, electric and magnetic all at the same time

The moment your eyes meet, it's like you both are hypnotized and drawn to each other, to break contact or pull away from each other takes enormous effort for you both

You often can't stop yourself and need to touch him, cupping his cheek so that he may nuzzle into your hand, running your fingers down his arm just to watch him suppress a shiver or breathing hot air on his frozen fingers just to listen to his breath stutter

If you two are in public or somewhere not entirely private, then his affection for you often manifests rather aggressively, overcome by his love you or something cute you did

Expect out of nowhere hugs from behind, the kind where he nearly picks you up and drags your body against his own, burying his face into your neck and growling until you reach back and play with his hair

Finding excuses to touch you like fixing your posture, tidying up your hair, or even finding invisible marks on your cheeks or lips that need wiped off with a slow finger

When you two are alone is when he is softer, gripping your chin firmly and kissing you as he pulls you in closer, greedily swallowing every noise you make

Bi-Han is literally addicted to you and struggles constantly to not turn into a lovesick fool because of you

It's something both Kuai Liang and Tomas will tease you two over but they're happy that their brother found love and happiness in you

For a long time Bi-Han will wonder why he feels like he needs you in his life, his ego telling him that he needs nobody and that you're holding him back in some way

When that happens then he will start to avoid you, be short with you and just generally be his natural asshole self around you

In fact, in the beginning of your relationship he would treat you worse than he would treat anyone else around him, just to dispel rumors of your relationship and to try and chase you away

Because he isn't strong enough to be the one who ends the relationship

If you show that he has hurt your feelings then he will feel terrible, but tell himself this is why you're holding him back, making him weak

If you don't show that he hurt your feelings then he will feel conflicted, still feeling awful and ashamed of himself but also wondering if he has lost you already

His brothers of course try to get him to not fuck up the good thing he's got with you just because of his ego which pisses him off but also snaps him out of it

But then he self punishes by sending himself on a ridiculously difficult mission or some horrible barbaric training sessions before he feels he can allow himself to come see you

Will sit on the edge of your bed with an ashamed look on his face and a defeated posture, unable to look at you because of his guilt

"I... I have been a fool lately."

He tenses up when you hug him from behind, kissing softly at his neck and cheek while humming thoughtfully to yourself

"Admit that you're a fool one more time and I may think about forgiving you."

Later when you're both satiated and resting in bed he will wonder what he has done to deserve you, all too aware of how much you deserve versus how much he has given you

Only for those thoughts to be cut short as you stroke his bare chest, draping a leg over his torso and soothing him to sleep

Bi-Han is not usually jealous, seeing most men as lesser than him, which in his mind makes them unworthy of you so he doesn't even entertain the thought of them being with you

It still irritates the hell out of him if they flirt with you though, so often he just pulls you against him and glares at them until they run away with their tail between their legs

However, if it's somebody he believes is capable of taking him on then Bi-Han will get jealous of any attention you give them while also denying that he is jealous

At first he will try his usual tactic of trying to intimidate them while keeping you close and showing off your relationship together but when that doesn't work then he sulks

Glares with his arms crossed while he pouts until one of his brothers calls him out on it before storming off in a manner that's sure to get your attention

You can find him training by himself, absolutely making a mess and obviously fuming 😤

"Don't tell me you were jealous..."

He immediately tenses up and turns away from you so you can't tell he's lying to you

"As if I would be jealous of-"

"I only could ever want you, Bi-Han...~"

Bi-Han absolutely melts at your words, turning to gather you into his arms until your noses are brushing against each other, eyes locked onto yours before drifting down to your lips

"I am yours to have, Y/N..."

You two spend a good half an hour kissing each other and being completely ignorant to the world around you until some poor soul walks in on the two of you

It's usually Tomas who has the misfortune of doing that because Kuai Liang is NOT dealing with that

Bi-Han doesn't ever even look embarrassed to be caught, giving an annoyed huff followed by an icy glare as he adjusts your top over your suddenly exposed shoulder

Quality time with Bi-Han includes bathing together in a hot spring, he is entirely relaxed with you, head back and eyes closed as you wash his hair

Will force you into his lap every time because he loves having your weight on top of him, usually has a large hand on your ass or his face buried in your chest

If you wash his body or massage him then he might actually fall asleep right there, he's always so tense and angry that he forgets what it's like to be pampered by you

Will do his best to return the favor but he's only a man at the end of the day and he gets distracted by your body, running his hands down your curves and squeezing at your plumper areas

He absolutely gets flustered whenever you tell him that you love him, whether it is in public or private, those three words from your lips make his brain malfunction

Bi-Han struggles to say it back even though he loves you deeply, watching him fight back a blush and avoid eye contact is like watching a teenager with their crush

"I feel the same towards you."

He often says it when you two are in bed together, drifting off to sleep as he holds you close, he will say it so softly that you will wonder if you even truly heard it

Being with Bi-Han takes a lot of patience and you will have to harden your heart in the beginning because he will struggle to be a good man to you at first

But after the relationship is established and he is open with his love for you then you two are in for an intense love that will dominate any obstacle in your relationship

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han mk #bi han x reader #bi han mortal kombat #mk x reader

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iamquiantrelle · 2 days ago

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GOLDEN BOY (chapter 3)────── iamquaintrelle

⌗ pairing : trent alexander arnold x black oc

⌗ summary : trent is having a quarter life crisis but will a smart-mouthed girl whip him into shape?

⌗ warnings : 18+ only!! (☁️☔️💕)

⌗taglist: @trentswrld, @trentpov @judesvirtual @sailurmewn @football-and-fanfics @eriks-girl @preetykookie @4ngryssgf @endlessmuse @noturbabe22, @sucredreamer @bbgkoo @hollablkgrl @notzara @chrisoppar

Losing to Spurs was one thing. Getting subbed on at half-time just to watch Son curl one into the top corner? That was another level of violation. The gaffer's words still rang in his ears - "need more energy," "push the line higher," all that chat.

Trent slouched in his seat on the team bus, hood pulled up, trying to ignore the quiet murmur of conversations around him. Virgil was giving some interview over the phone about "maintaining perspective" and "focusing on the next match." Easy to say when you'd played the full ninety, wasn't it?

His phone buzzed - probably his mum again, ready with another "head up love" message. Or Tyler wanting to dissect his minutes like they did after every match these days. Or maybe-

April: Nice cameo. At least your legs looked good in those shorts.

His stomach did that weird flip thing again. They hadn't properly talked since that night at Baltic Market, just the occasional message taking the piss out of each other. But every notification from her had him feeling like a kid checking if his crush had texted back.

Trent: Watching me play now are you?

April: Had to see what I'm working with for the shoot next week. April: Though after that performance… might need to rethink the concept. April: Maybe we focus on your face instead 😘

Cheeky. Even after a loss, she was out here trying to wind him up. And the worst part? It was working.

Trent: Getting brave behind that phone aren't you?

April: Always brave baby. You're the one who bottled it at Baltic.

His cheeks heated at the memory. The way she'd mugged him off, leaving him standing there like a sap after he'd suggested going home together. Those curls bouncing as she walked away, that jumpsuit doing criminal things to his imagination. He'd barely slept that night, replaying every moment in his head like some lovesick teenager.

Trent: Didn't bottle anything. You're the one who ran away.

April: That what you think? April: Interesting theory. April: Still thinking about those curls though?

Fuck. Am I that obvious?

The bus hit a pothole, jolting him out of his April-induced trance. Robbo was giving him a weird look from across the aisle, probably wondering why he was grinning at his phone after a loss like that.

"You alright mate? Looking flushed."

"Just tired," Trent muttered, turning back to his phone. But his mind was racing. Had she been playing him this whole time? Testing him maybe? That night at Baltic, the way she'd challenged him about everything - his accent, his image, his career. Like she was trying to see what he was made of.

April: Maker's Studio. Tuesday. 2pm. April: Don't be late.

His brain immediately went places it shouldn't. Especially not on a team bus after a loss, with Robbo's suspicious eyes still on him.

Trent: Still trying to get me naked?

April: Please. April: When I want you naked, you'll know. April: Besides, thought you were scared of my camera?

Christ. The way she could switch from professional to pure trouble in the space of one message. Had him twisted up inside.

The rest of the journey passed in a blur of April's messages and his increasingly frustrated attempts to keep his mind out of the gutter. By the time they pulled into Melwood, he was wound up, thinking about Tuesday and whatever she had planned.

"Trent!" Robbo's voice cut through his thoughts. "You coming or what? Some of us have families to get home to."

"Yeah yeah, give me a minute."

Around him, the lads were gathering their bags, some already heading for their cars. Virgil had finished his interview and was now deep in conversation with Joe about some tactical thing Trent should probably be paying attention to, but his eyes were glued to his screen as three dots appeared.

April: Sweet dreams pretty boy. Try not to think about me too much. April: Though those marks have probably faded by now… April: Shame. Might need to refresh them soon.

His collar suddenly felt too tight. Those hickeys had finally disappeared, but he swore he could still feel where they'd been, like she'd marked him.

"Trent!" Robbo again, now standing over him. "What's got you so distracted? Better not be that OnlyFans girl Ty was warning us about–"

"Shut up," Trent laughed, finally standing up. But his mind was racing. Tuesday couldn't come fast enough.

Back in his car, he sat for a moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Fuck it.

Trent: Only if you promise to aim lower this time.

April: Is that a challenge, Alexander-Arnold? April: Because you should know by now… April: I never back down from those.

Too late for that whole 'not thinking about her' thing, wasn't it?

The drive home was a blur of streetlights and his mind wandering to dangerous places. Whatever she had planned, whatever game she was playing… he was all in.

His phone buzzed one last time as he pulled into his driveway.

April: PS - Wear pants that fit you well. April: Since that's all I'm letting you keep on.

Fucking hell.

Even the loss to Spurs didn't sting as much anymore. How could it, when all he could think about was Tuesday and whatever chaos April had in store for him?

He was starting to live for that chaos. Starting to crave it, even. The way she kept him on his toes, never knowing if she was going to build him up or tear him down.

Maybe Tyler had been right. Maybe he did need someone who didn't treat him like TAA, Liverpool's golden boy. Someone who saw past all that and still wanted to take the piss.

Or maybe he was just twisted. Either way, Tuesday couldn't come soon enough.

Nothing like a 4-0 against Accrington Stanley to get your head right. Trent's goal was still playing on repeat in his mind - caught it sweet from outside the box, right into the top bins. Even had the Kop singing his name again.

The rental space April had found was fancy, all modern art on exposed brick walls and windows bigger than his first flat. Tyler had been in his ear all week about their "creative direction" or whatever, but Trent wasn't worried about all that. He was more focused on April's texts that had been driving him insane - little digs about oiling him up for the camera, asking if he'd been doing his crunches.

When he walked in, she was bent over her camera setup, wearing ripped jeans that should've been illegal and some massive Rolling Stones jumper that kept slipping off one shoulder. Her hair was trying to escape its bun, curls going everywhere like they had a mind of their own.

"Look who finally showed up," she said without looking up. "Heard you had yourself a game yesterday."

"Scored an absolute worldie, didn't I?"

"Against Accrington Stanley." Now she did look up, that smirk playing at her lips. "My nan could score against them."

There was a clothes rack in the corner - nothing fancy, just basic stuff. No designer labels or statement pieces. Dead simple, like she was trying to strip away all the flash.

"Strip," she said, still fiddling with her camera.

"What?"

"Just your shirt, you idiot. Unless…" She looked up now, those eyes dancing with mischief. "You still bricking it?"

"Not scared of anything, me." He pulled his shirt off, trying to act casual while her eyes did a slow crawl over his chest that had his skin burning.

"Shame about the locs though," she said suddenly, tilting her head. "Why'd you cut them?"

The question caught him off guard. No one ever asked that - they just assumed he was "cleaning up his image" or whatever other bullshit the papers came up with.

"Just fancied a change," he shrugged, but April's eyes narrowed.

"Nah, there's more to it. The way your jaw just tensed? Dead giveaway."

He sighed, running a hand over his shorter hair. "Just got tired of the comments. 'Bit urban for Liverpool's golden boy' and all that shit."

"Ah." Her face softened slightly. "The classic microaggressions. Get that a lot myself in this industry. 'You're so well-spoken' and all that."

"Yeah well… get enough of that without the locs. Too black for some, not black enough for others. Proper mad how everyone's got an opinion on what you should be when you're mixed."

"'Are you black or like… black black?'" April mimicked, rolling her eyes. "Or my personal favorite - 'you must get your creativity from your white side.'"

Trent snorted. "Mad how they think being mixed means you can't be fully anything. Like my mum being white somehow cancels out everything else."

"Society's fucked, isn't it?" April picked up her camera. "But at least you've got good bone structure. Now turn left a bit - need to catch that jawline properly."

Just like that, she was back to business. But something had shifted slightly. Like they'd recognized something in each other, some shared experience that went beyond the flirting and banter.

"These aren't going to be too artistic, are they?" he asked as she adjusted his pose. "Don't fancy seeing my face in some gallery."

"Nah, just clean shots. Show the real you, not what everyone expects Liverpool's golden boy to be."

The way she said it - mocking but understanding at the same time. Like she got it. Got him.

Maybe that's why it was so easy to relax around her, even half-naked in front of her camera. She saw past all the labels, all the expectations. Saw him as just… Trent.

"Hold that pose," April said, then paused. "Isn't your dad's Jamaican?"

"Yeah, family's in Kingston. Why?"

Her grin widened. "Wag wan then, bredrin?"

"Yuh dun know," Trent laughed, genuinely surprised. "Your people yard too?"

"Mum's family's from Portmore. Small world, huh?" She snapped a few more shots. "No wonder you can handle the spice. Though that accent's proper scouse."

The shoot wrapped quicker than he expected, April's efficiency matching her chat. She gestured him over to her laptop, flicking through the raw shots.

"Need some editing obviously, but…"

"Nah these are sick." And they were - nothing pretentious or artsy, just him looking… real. Natural.

"Could be better if you'd gotten naked though."

Trent's head snapped up, but she was already packing away her gear, that mischievous smirk playing at her lips.

"Still on about that?"

"Always." She turned, properly looking at him now. "You trying to get in my pants too, Alexander-Arnold?"

"Maybe."

"Bold. I'm a wild girl though." Her voice dropped lower, all that playful energy suddenly gone. This wasn't April the photographer anymore, or even April taking the piss. This was something else entirely - a warning and an invitation all at once.

"I'm a wild boy."

She actually laughed at that, but it wasn't her usual take-the-piss laugh. This was darker, like she knew something he didn't. "Please. You couldn't handle me."

"Try me."

The words came out more confident than he felt, but fuck it. Something about the way she was looking at him - like a cat that had cornered its prey but was deciding whether to play with it first.

"Okay," she shrugged, but those eyes were pure danger now. "I warned you though. Free this weekend?"

His heart actually skipped. Proper teenage behavior. "Yeah."

"I'll text you then." She shouldered her bag, that predatory smile still playing at her lips. Every movement calculated, like she knew exactly what she was doing to his head. "Try not to think about me too much until then."

Too late for that, wasn't it?

He watched her walk away, remembering how she'd left him hanging at Baltic Market. But this time felt different. This time she wasn't testing him - she was hunting him.

And fuck him if he didn't want to be caught.

The address April sent him was in some dodgy part of London he'd never been to before. Like proper sketch - the kind of place his Range Rover looked well out of place. No restaurants nearby, no posh shops, just warehouses and old buildings with blacked-out windows.

23B Blackwall Lane.

No sign. No queue. Just a massive guy in black standing outside a door that looked like it hadn't been opened since the 80s.

"ID," the guard grunted. Then, after checking it: "Arms up."

"You taking the piss?"

But no, man actually started patting him down like he was going through customs. Christ. What had April gotten him into?

"Miss Goodplenty's guest?" A woman appeared, all long hair and red lipstick. Looked out of place against the grimy walls.

"Yeah."

She handed him a tablet. "Sign these."

"What am I signing?"

"Non-disclosure agreement. And a waiver stating the club isn't responsible for any... injuries."

Any what now?

His eyes scanned the document. Words like "consensual" and "physical activity" and "binding agreement" jumped out at him.

Fucking hell.

But he'd already come this far, hadn't he? And something about the way April had added cheeky emojis when she sent the address... like she knew exactly what she was doing to his head.

He signed.

The door opened to darkness and bass so heavy he could feel it in his chest. As his eyes adjusted, he realized where he was.

Oh.

OH.

Real sus that April hadn't mentioned this was a sex club.

Bodies everywhere - some clothed, some... definitely not. Red lights casting shadows that left just enough to the imagination. Private rooms with heavy curtains. A dance floor that looked more like an orgy waiting to happen.

His phone buzzed.

April: Third floor. Room 7.

April: Don't keep me waiting.

April: And don't look so scared, pretty boy. Nobody bites.

April: Unless you ask nicely 😘

Christ.

Trent's designer shirt and jeans felt about as subtle as a police siren in this place. Everyone else was either half-naked or dressed in leather. Some woman walked past in what looked like actual diamonds and not much else. Just walking around tits and pussy out like this was just another Saturday.

A waitress appeared at his elbow - a pin-up model type in lingerie and a garter belt that left nothing to the imagination. "Drink?"

"Uh..." Real smooth, that.

"First time?" She smiled knowingly, adjusting stockings. "Don't worry love, everyone's nervous their first night."

Another waitress drifted past balancing a tray of champagne, wearing what had to be vintage Agent Provocateur and heels that could probably kill a man. The whole place was like some mad fever dream - all red velvet and gold accents and women who looked like they'd stepped out of a 1950s Playboy.

His phone buzzed again.

April: You look proper lost down there 😂

April: Still waiting...

April: Unless you're too scared?

Cheeky girl was watching him. He looked up, trying to spot her, but the upper floors were all shadows and private booths.

A couple stumbled past him, giggling, clothes disheveled. What was April playing at, bringing him here?

His phone lit up one more time.

April: Tick tock, Alexander-Arnold.

April: Or should I find someone else to play with?

That got his feet moving. Third floor. Room 7.

What kind of posh sex club didn't have lifts? The staircase was all Victorian gothic, wrought iron railings and dim lighting that cast weird shadows on the walls. Some couple was going at it against the wall between the first and second floor, and Trent had to squeeze past them like it was normal. Could hear all sorts through the doors he passed - moans and music and what sounded like... was that a whip?

His legs were burning by the second floor. Each step revealed more sounds he'd rather not think about. Weird how normal everyone seemed about it all - like they were at some dinner party instead of... whatever this was.

Room 7 had a fancy door, all dark wood and gold numbers. His knuckles had barely touched it when it swung open.

"Wow- I- April..." His brain short-circuited completely.

The leather outfit she wore gave him a clear view of the tops of her breasts and had various cutouts throughout that showed glimpses of her skin. Her curls were wilder than usual, framing her face like some kind of dark halo.

"It's Madam here," she said curtly, stepping aside to let him in.

Madam?

The room was nothing like he'd expected. Luxe with some BDSM type stuff hanging on the wall, a chaise in a corner, and massive windows overlooking the club below. A small dining table was set up in one corner, complete with fancy china and champagne on ice.

"Sit," she gestured to the chair near the window. "How are you feeling?"

"Bit shocked if I'm honest." He could see the dance floor below, bodies moving in the dim light.

That laugh again - the same one from their first meeting, breaking through her stern façade. "Told you I was a wild girl, didn't I?" She moved closer, her voice dropping low enough to make his skin tingle. "Still think you're a wild boy?"

For once in his life, Trent Alexander-Arnold was speechless.

"You're just green," she smiled, something softer in her eyes now. "When we get started on some things, you'll be fine." His eyes must've gone wide because she laughed again. "Not tonight obviously." She settled into the chair opposite him. "Tonight we talk, have dinner. Very vanilla. I'll tell you all the dirty things I like, you tell me yours. And then if you want to keep it going, we can."

"And if I don't?" His voice came out steadier than he felt.

"Then you leave," she shrugged. "We never have to bring it up again. Just continue on with our work relationship."

Simple as that. Except nothing about April had ever been simple, had it?

"So how'd you get into all this?" Trent asked, watching as April poured them both some champagne.

"Photography or the other stuff?" Her eyes glinted mischievously.

"You know which one."

"Same way anyone finds their thing, I suppose." She settled in her chair. "Tried it, loved it, kept going. Speaking of..." She tilted her head, studying him. "Those marks I left on you. How'd that make you feel?"

The champagne suddenly felt thick in his throat. "I... liked them."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Proper liked them actually."

"Mmm." She took a slow sip of champagne. "Tell me how you usually are then. In bed."

"I take charge mostly," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Do the leading and that."

"So you do the bending?" She smirked over her glass.

"Yeah."

"But does that satisfy you? Like for real?" Her foot found his leg under the table, sliding up slowly. "Does it feel amazing you taking all of the control or..." she paused, watching his reaction, "do you need someone to be in charge sometimes?"

He laughed nervously, hand tightening around his glass. "Never thought about it before. I mean I do like little choke while I stroke but nothing like..." he gestured around the room.

"Okay so this can be your last visit here."

"You'll do that?" The words came out before he could stop them.

"Yeah," she said softly, something genuine breaking through her dominant persona. "It's about your pleasure too, Trent."

Mother of Christ.

"I should probably tell you what I'm into," April continued, leaning forward slightly. "I'm a dom - that means I like control. All of it."

"Like what you did with the..." Trent gestured to his neck.

"Marking you up? That's just the start. I like restraints, commands, proper domination." She studied his face. "You said you like choking?"

"Yeah," he admitted, feeling his face heat. "Gets me proper going."

"What else?"

"I dunno... never really explored much. Been curious though."

"About?"

"Just... different things. Being told what to do maybe." He couldn't believe he was saying this out loud.

"Good," she smiled. "Because I'm not a switch."

"A what?"

"Someone who goes back and forth between dom and sub. When we're in the bedroom, I'm in charge. Simple as that."

His mouth felt dry. "And if I wanted to try..."

"We start slow. Build trust. But first," she leaned back, "you need to get checked."

"What?"

"Full panel. I don't do condoms."

His eyes went wide. "Raw? That's..." Risky. Mental. Completely hot. "Actually one of my fantasies."

"Of course it is," she laughed. "You're such a boy. But yes - once we're both cleared, no barriers between us."

His brain was already going places it shouldn't.

"You're thinking about it now, aren't you?" That predatory smile was back.

"Maybe."

"Good. Keep thinking about it. But remember..." she stood up, moving behind his chair. Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

A knock at the door made Trent jump slightly. April just smirked, crossing the room with that confident stride that had his eyes following her every move.

The same pin-up waitress from downstairs wheeled in a proper feast - some posh looking steak for him, seafood linguine for April.

"You ordered for me?"

"I do that sometimes." She settled back in her chair. "Part of the whole control thing. Problem?"

He cut into the steak - perfectly medium rare, exactly how he liked it. "Nah, this is actually mad good."

"Course it is. Already figured out what you like, haven't I?"

Something about the way she said it made his stomach flip. She had been watching him, hadn't she? Learning his habits, his preferences. Even that first night at the party, she'd known exactly how to push his buttons.

"So what else you got figured out about me then?"

"Plenty." She twirled pasta around her fork. "Like how you pretend to be this proper confident footballer, but really..." her foot found his leg again, "you're curious about giving up that control."

His breath caught. Mad how she could read him like that.

"Tell me more about what you're into," he said, trying to regain some composure. "Like, what should I expect?"

"Already thinking ahead?" That devilish smile was back. "Well, I told you - I'm a dom. I like control, discipline, watching someone submit to me completely."

The way she said it - like she was discussing the weather - had his head spinning.

"But it's not just about the physical stuff," she continued. "It's about trust. Power exchange. Like how you trusted me to order your food. Small things building up to bigger ones."

"What kind of bigger ones?"

"Patience," she smirked. "We'll get there. But first..." She leaned forward, those eyes locked on his. "Tell me more about these fantasies of yours. The raw thing got you excited."

"Just... yeah." He felt his face heat up. "Something about it being bare. More intimate like."

"Mmm. And the choking? You said you've done that before?"

"Bit of it, yeah. Nothing major though."

"And how'd that make you feel?"

"Good, I guess?" He paused, thinking. "But sometimes... sometimes I wonder what it'd be like–"

"Having someone control you?" Her voice dropped lower. "Tell you what to do? When you can move, when you can speak... when you can cum?"

Fucking hell.

"We'd start slow," she added, watching his reaction. "Build up to things. I'm not about to throw you in the deep end."

"What would we start with then?"

"Simple commands. Teaching you how to follow orders. Maybe some light bondage if you're good." She said it so casual, like she was planning a training session instead of... whatever this was.

"And if I'm not good?"

That predatory smile was back. "Then you get punished."

My Lord in heaven.

"You're thinking about it again," she observed, sliding her foot higher up his leg. "I can see it in your eyes. The way you're gripping that fork."

He hadn't even realized how tense he was.

"Finish your food," she commanded softly. "We've got more to discuss."

And fuck him if his body didn't respond immediately to that tone. Like it already knew who was in charge.

"Yes..." he hesitated.

"Madam," she supplied, eyes glinting. "Better get used to saying that."

"Yes, Madam."

Something in her expression shifted - pleased, almost proud. Made his chest do weird things.

"Good boy."

Those two words shouldn't have affected him like that. But here he was, squirming in his chair from just her voice and praise. Did he also have a thing for that too?

"I think," she said, watching him eat, "we're going to have a lot of fun together. Once you're checked and cleared, of course."

"How long's that usually take?"

"Eager, are we?" She laughed. "Few days for the results. Then..." her foot reached his thigh and his dick hardened, "we can properly begin."

The rest of dinner passed in a haze of loaded looks and subtle touches. April kept dropping little hints about what she had planned, each one making his head spin more than the last.

By the time they finished eating, Trent felt like he was burning up from the inside. Everything felt heightened - the brush of her hand as she reached for the champagne, the way her lips curved around each word, how her eyes never left him even when the waitress came to clear their plates.

"Time for you to go," she said finally, standing up. "Got an early meeting tomorrow."

"That's it?"

"For now." She moved closer, close enough that he could smell that spiced vanilla again. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

"No," he said quickly. Maybe too quickly, based on her knowing smile.

"Good. I'll text you the details for getting checked. And Trent?"

"Yeah?"

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear: "Don't touch yourself tonight. That's your first command."

His whole body went hot. "And if I do?"

"Then I'll know." She pulled back, those eyes dancing with mischief. "And the punishment will be... memorable."

Fucking hell.

What had he gotten himself into?

But as he made his way back down those stairs, past all the sounds and sights that had shocked him earlier, Trent couldn't stop grinning.

Whatever this was - whatever April had planned for him - he was all in.

Even if it ruined him in the end.

…………..tbd

#quainwritings #trent alexander arnold #footballer x oc #footballer x reader #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #trent alexander arnold x reader #taa x black oc #taa x reader #liverpool fc fics #quain’s masterlist

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strawberriesoup · 1 day ago

Text

catch me if you can PT. 1,, ✮⋆˙

☆ street racer!han jisung x cop!fem!reader

☆ genre: street racing AU, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, illegal activity

☆ warnings: lots of breaking of the law (like, felony-level breaking of the law), cursing, fire, injury/pain, near death experience, suggestive content

☆ wc: 6.5k

☆ a/n: i'm so happy i finally got to sit down and write this first part out! honestly i'm pretty pleased with it, and i hope this motivation can stay for the remaining parts! for now, enjoy!

if you make it all the way through, please leave some feedback! i always love to hear other people’s thoughts!! your feedback is what keeps me writing stories like these ❤️❤️

☆ taglist: @jisunggy @holly-here @hannamoon143 @fly-you-dam-fools @chancloud8 @hannieslittlerockstar @vixensss @skzpvol @gxtwllsn @yinzgarden @kayleefriedchicken @nightmarenyxx @ick2001 @dwesion

if you would like to be added to my series taglist or my general taglist, send me a comment or an ask! <3

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Unstoppable, that’s what you are. There’s just something about the way your engine rumbles when you shove in the clutch and shift to a higher gear, how you can feel your tires grip the road beneath you, it’s thrilling. Yellow lines blur into one as you grip the wheel tighter, focusing your attention solely on the path ahead. Just a little farther.

Your blinker flashes as you signal your turn into the Wal-mart parking lot.

Really, you can’t imagine anything more unintresting than grocery shopping. There’s no excitement in searching through various assortments of oranges and grapes, no blaring horns and revving engines to go along with determining the best jug of milk to buy.

When you had joined the city police force, it’s safe to say that this is not how you were expecting to spend your wednesday afternoons.

How embarrassing. Yes, you know that shopping is a normal— and necessary— part of life, but that’s just the thing. It’s normal. Mundane, tedious, dull… Must you go on? A normal thing for normal people to be doing on normal days. Definitely not the action-filled life you had always dreamed of for all those years.

The bitter taste of disappointment fills your mouth as you sulk through the isles. It’s busy today. Groups of people bustle past, none of them paying you any mind. Good. You keep your head tucked towards the ground, not wanting to accidentally make eye contact with someone who might know you. In the back of your mind, you reason that it’s probably ridiculous to be feeling this way. Even still, you don’t lift your face.

The crime rate has been so low recently, with new police recruits popping up left and right, that you aren't even on duty today. While to most that might seem like good news, to you it’s probably the worst news all week. You wish that someone would just start a car chase or something, that way you might get a chance to break the speed limit. Instead,— since you like to manage your expectations somewhat realistically — you’re here, squinting at your shopping list and trying to keep your squeaking cart under control. The gods of choosing a functional shopping cart had not blessed you today.

After an unnecessarily long chat about missing puppies with the sweet old lady who probably broke the world record for the slowest grocery checkout time, you start the trek back out to your car. It shouldn’t be hard to find, given it’s painted a subtle bright crimson. You search the parking lot for the familiar vehicle. Where did you park again? You probably should have paid more attention.

Then, you hear it. At first, you think maybe it’s just the wind whistling around the building behind you. Are you hearing things? No, because there it is again. An unmistakable scream.

Groceries abandoned, you can feel your pulse leap into your temples as you sprint towards the direction of the sound. Whipping your head around, you struggle to get a grip on your surroundings, the midday sun reflecting off the pavement momentarily blinding you.

Another frantic shout brings you to your senses and you are finally able to pinpoint the source of the commotion. Not far off, a cloud of deep black smoke billows from a car on the street. The car had been capsized, shattered glass scattered in a ten-foot radius surrounding it. On first approach, you can’t even tell the front end from the back end. What’s completely unmistakable though, is the gut-dropping smell of an engine fire.

“Mom!” A childs cry rings out above the other panicked voices. A teenage boy holds the little girl in his arms as she rakes at his shoulder in a feeble attempt to break free and run towards the car.

Bystanders are shouting, trying to tear a man away from the door of the car by his arm, shirt, anything they could get a hold of. You can’t tell if the man’s hands are bleeding from the broken glass or from pulling on the door so hard. Who knows, maybe it’s both.

You don’t know if you’ve ever sprung into action so fast. One second you’re assessing the situation, the next you’re shoving people out of the way to access the door.

The window frame had been crushed so much you can barely even see inside the vehicle, let alone utilize it as a viable method of escape. Judging by the lack of law enforcement around the scene, you can tell the car hasn’t been on fire for long. Good. Even though the foul rank of the engine smoke invades your senses, it’s safe to say the vehicle won’t explode. Yet.

Maybe the other door isn’t stuck. You quickly move to the opposite side and tug at the handle, but immediately jerk your hand back when the metal burns your skin. Angrily, you tug a hand across your face. Think. You need to think. Come on, think.

There. A window that hadn’t been shattered, the back windshield. To access it, you’d have to crawl under the trunk and break it open. If you do that, there’s a good chance you won’t be able to turn back around easily once inside, if at all. You can’t tell to what degree the person inside is injured, but you take the lack of any sort of cry for help as a bad sign.

The desperate wails of the little girl make up your mind for you. There’s no time to lose. You need to get this done, and get it done fast.

Shrugging off your purse, jacket, and anything that could possibly get snagged in the car, you squeeze under the trunk. It’s uncomfortably warm, reminding you of the very real possiblility of explosion once the fire reaches the fuel tank. All your faith is funneled into your pocket knife as you jam the back of it into the windshield. Nothing.

Again, you wind back the knife. A yell escapes you as you once again ram it into the window with all your might. Still, it doesn’t yield.

Shit. shit. You have to get in there. You can see the outline of what looks to be a human form inside the car, but no movement. One more time. You can do this.

The man that had been tugging at the door is kneeling behind you, unable to fit underneath the car. He reaches under, stretching his red-stained fingers towards you. At first, you don’t understand what he’s trying to do. Then, it clicks. Wrapping his hand around your own, The knife is encompassed beneath both of your hands. The man’s voice is hoarse as he counts to three. Together, you drive the tool into the windshield.

Finally, the window shatters with a crash. Dark smoke pours out, stinging your eyes and forcing a cough from your lungs. Wasting no time, you squeeze the man’s hand before taking a deep breath and ducking inside.

Shattered glass slices open your palm and you hiss at the white flash of pain. There’s no time to check the damage right now, you’ll deal with injuries later. You tearily squint through the smoke, finally laying your eyes upon a still figure in the passenger’s seat. Still buckled in, she hangs awkwardly from the seat, supported by the seatbelt.

A drop of sweat falls into your eyes. The heat alone is suffocating, but paired with the smoke the conditions are nearly unbearable. The steadily ticking clock of oxygen deprivation hangs heavy over your head, you won’t be of much help if you’re passed out. You grunt as you stretch your arm up to reach for the buckle.

With a click, the woman falls from the seat. No movement. You can’t even tell if she’s breathing.

How the fuck are you going to get her out of here? The car interior around you suddenly feels too small, your vision beginning to spin. No, get a handle of yourself. These people are depending on you. That little girl is depending on you. The image of the little girl’s face, twisted with fear and desperation, fuels you to set your jaw and grab a hold of the woman’s arm.

If you can just pull her past you, you might be able to push her the rest of the way, getting her out as quickly as possible for medical attention, as EMS should be here soon. As if on cue, you hear blaring sirens steadily approching over the crackling of the fire.

Straining, you are able to tug at the woman until she’s past you. Blood roars in your ears as you use the rest of your energy to try and push her the rest of the way. It’s not graceful by any means, but you manage to shove her far enough towards the shattered window for her to be pulled out by a team of gloved hands.

You collapse onto the floor below. Dark fog breaches the corners of your vision. Is that the smoke? Maybe. You can’t even tell at this point. A cough wracks its way through your body as the pulse of adrenaline leaves you.

Well, at least you were able to help. You can feel your eyelids slowly blinking closed, despite your efforts to fight it.

What’s left of your vision is suddenly blocked by… a face? Holy shit. Did you die? In front of you hovers a face that looks like it was sculpted by the gods themselves. A perfectly angled nose sits between two dark eyes that remind you of the cool blanket of night. His lips are moving and you lament over the fact you can’t hear his voice due to an annoyingly loud ringing filling your ears. If this is what heaven is like, you don’t think you mind dying so much.

You can distantly feel your body being lifted as you drift out of conciousness.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“That was some crazy shit back there, y’know.”

You blink your eyes open, focusing on the source of the familiar voice next to you. It’s Seungmin, your patrol partner. He’s sitting on the edge of the ambulance, knee bouncing up and down. His stare, unreadable as always, greets you. You let out a much-needed sigh of relief. As much as he gets on your nerves, you are definitely more than happy to see a familiar face.

“Seungmin? What happened? Is that— ow, shit!” You sit up too fast from your stretcher and immediately need to lay back down due to a stabbing pain in your skull. “Is that lady okay?” as the sharp pain withdraws into a dull throb, the past events slowly resurface in your mind. Wait. That guy. The one who you saw just before you passed out, who was he? You had never seen him before. Was he even real?

“Well, I’m not sure if ‘okay’ is the right word to use, but she’s alive at least. She was rushed to the hospital along with her family members as soon as you got her out.” Seungmin crosses over to you, leaning on the edge of your stretcher. You can see him better now, and from here you can catch the slightest bit of worry in his features that was not evident in his voice previously. “Which, by the way, that little stunt of yours almost got you killed. If that guy hadn’t gotten you out of there when he did, you would have been crushed.”

So he was real.

According to Seungmin, right after you had been dragged out, the frame of the car completely collapsed; which would have effectively both trapped you inside and squished you. He’s about to continue with details about how next you probably would have caught on fire, before you punch him square in the arm, earning a cry of pain from both you and Seungmin. You shake the pain out of your bandaged hand as you are painfully reminded of that piece of glass that had cut you.

“Anyways,” you scowl at him when he sends you a not-so-apologetic look, “who was that guy? Is he a new police recruit? I’ve never seen him before.” The only reason you know that for sure is because you would never have forgotten that face. You can picture him in your mind right now. You’ve never seen anyone so… well, perfect.

“No, he’s not. Just some civilian who was stupid enough to jump into a flaming car to save your sorry ass,” Seungmin waves away your indignant defenses and heads off towards a group of officers outside the ambulance, “It was a hit and run, the bastard who caused this mess drove off someplace so we’re trying to see—”

“Where did he go?”

Seungmin faces you, caught off-guard. “What?”

“That guy, where’d he go?” You repeat your question, obviously not at all intrested in whatever was going on with the other officers.

Seungmin’s eyebrows lower as he rolls his eyes and turns away once more. “I dunno, haven’t seen him,” he comments over his shoulder helpfully. Then, he’s gone.

Ugh.

Fuck you, Kim Seungmin

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You have to find him. You will not be able to function as a member of society without knowing that he’s an actual person and not just a result of some hallucination. You had asked every single one of the officers and bystanders at the scene if they knew even just his name (you did not appreciate Seungmin making faces at you the whole time, thank you very much) to no avail; nobody knew anything about this mysterious man.

Fine then. You’ll just have to find him yourself.

Weeks go by, and his face never leaves your mind. Sometimes you swear you can see a flash of his honey skin, or those gorgeous eyes, only to look up and realize with disappointment it is in fact, not him. You wonder how many random passerby you have given an unexplainably sour face. Not that it matters what they thought of you. They probably worked a nine to five at some boring old desk.

One night, Seungmin had caught you searching through the criminal records. Maybe it was a stretch, but hey, you were desperate. You had just reached the ‘H’ column when he snuck up behind you. Upon him tapping your shoulder with a “Whatcha doing” on his lips, you had jumped three feet in the air and quickly closed the tab, responding with a very convincing “Nothing!” and rushing out of the room.

Just a name, that’s all you need. Is that really too much to ask?

Suited up in your standard police attire, you wait in line at your favorite coffee place before your night shift with Seungmin. You had finally been scheduled a full eight hours, but honestly your mind was anywhere but work. The bustling coffee shop atmosphere and the overwhelming smell of coffee does nothing for your scattered thoughts. Why the hell are so many people in line for coffee at 10:00 at night?

“One iced americano for Han Jisung?” The barista calls out the next order.

No way. There’s actually no way.

You have to do a triple take to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. It’s really him. You would recognize his face anywhere.

He’s just as stunning as when you had first seen him. Eyes that same dusky brown, nose that same perfect shape. He has a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head, his hair falling from them in loose waves around his face, framing him like an artwork from the renaissance period. The way he holds himself, too. A casual swagger that so few people can pull off, but he wears it so naturally; completely at ease. One hand in his pocket, he smiles at the barista as she hands him his order, somehow lighting up the entire room with simply his expression.

You are so awestruck that it takes you a second to realize that he’s turned his attention directly to you.

When you do realize though, your heart drops right into your ass. Your first instinct is to jump your gaze to the floor or the ceiling, feigning nonchalance, but you’ve been hyper fixated on his face for so long you cannot bring yourself to look away.

His eyes spark with recognition. You can tell by the way his eyebrows raise amicably as he starts heading towards you. Your heart speeds up to about a million miles per hour.

That is until he looks you up and down. His expression drops and his eyes widen for just a fraction of a second before returning to his previous smile, but this time it feels just a little forced. As he passes you, he nods politely and sweeps past without so much as a word.

What just happened? You watch as he exits the coffee shop. Wait, no, you can’t lose him now, you at least need to thank him. He did save your life after all.

You hustle past the long line much less gracefully than he, catching him outside the door before he can cross the street.

“Hey, wait up!” You call after his retreating form. You see him pause, but he doesn't turn around as you jog up to him. “It’s you! Jisung, right?”

Finally, he faces you. His sunglasses now sit neatly on the bridge of his nose, obscuring his eyes from sight. You can’t detect any of the uncomfort from before in his features. Did you imagine that? Maybe he’s just in a hurry.

“That’s me,” Jisung says, a cute little chuckle punctuates the end of his sentence. His voice is sweet, reminding you of warm brown sugar and butter. Your heart skips a beat as he addresses you with that grin of his, “can I help you with anything, officer?”

It takes you a second to respond, the way he tilts his head at you whilst waiting for a response has you feeling all kinds of weird, bubbly feelings in your chest. You stomp them down and clear your throat.

“No, no I actually wanted to thank you. You know, for saving me. You really didn’t— I mean that was really… courageous of you. And stuff. Anyways. yeah, thanks.” You finish awkwardly, stumbling over your words. Damn it.

Jisung laughs. A beautiful sound, really.

“Thought I recognized you! You’re the pretty little thing who saved that lady from the fire. Gotta hand it to you, officer, you’ve got some guts in there.” He gestures to your badge with a tilt of his head, leaning back on the crosswalk pole and sticking one hand in his pocket.

You’re pretty sure your brain short-circuited at the words ‘pretty little thing’ and you’re not quite sure how to answer, your mouth opening and closing a few times, but no words falling from it.

Jisung grins at your tongue-tied state, letting out another amused huff of laughter and hitting the crosswalk button.

“I’ve got somewhere to be, but you stay safe out there ok? Don’t go jumping into any more flaming vehicles if you can possibly help it, next time I might not be there,” He clicks his teeth and you swear you can see him wink from under his shades. The crosswalk changes to give Jisung the right of way and he heads off across the street.

There you stand, a blushing mess, watching as he heads to a nearby parking spot.

Wait a second, is that his car?

Jisung closes the door to a Chevrolet Camaro, colored in a tasteful matte black. Are you kidding? No, this has got to be a joke, there’s no way he has that car. As the engine purrs to life, you can feel the rumbling vibration in your chest even from across the street. When he pulls out, it’s evident just how suped up it is. There’s an added spoiler on the back and… are those LED lights on the rims? That’s it. You might actually be in love.

The hum of the engine steadily approaches as he pulls up next to you on the street, rolling down the window and looking up at you and your wide eyes.

“Like what you see, officer?” Jisung raises his eyebrows teasingly, a smug little smirk playing on his lips. If it had been anyone else, you’re sure you would be enraged by the expression, but there’s something about him that makes it hot rather than insufferable. He hangs an elbow out the window, lightly tapping his fingers to the bass of some song that plays from his speakers as you take in the vehicle.

“Shut the fuck up, this is yours?” You raise your voice over the sound of the engine, leaning in closer so he can hear you. You momentarily forget that you’re technically on duty right now.

There it is again, that hearty laugh of his. Definitely one of your new favorite sounds.

“Yes ma’am, all mine,” Jisung pulls up his sunglasses, finally giving you a clear view of his face. His face that’s looking more mischievous by the minute. “Maybe one day you’ll do me the honor of taking you for a spin, how’s that sound?” He reaches out and lightly flicks his index finger up the bottom of your chin. Your stomach explodes with butterflies as a result.

“I’m…” You consider your options. Is he serious? He’s definitely flirting with you. Right? He literally just touched your chin while asking if you wanted a ride in his car. He’s definitely flirting. Yeah.

“I’m free tomorrow,” You blurt, against your better judgment. There’s no way in hell you’re going to turn down a opportunity like this.

“Same time, same place?”

You glance at your watch. 10:30 p.m. You should be in the patrol car with Seungmin right about now.

“That works,” You nod. Your answer is a little shaky, but you hide it well.

“Guess I’ll see you then, officer,” Jisung flashes you one last smile, scrunching up his nose and throwing you a half salute. He revvs up his engine once, twice, and then he’s gone.

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your legs shake as you head back into the coffee shop to re-order a cup of coffee. You’re going to need it.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

This is stupid. Like, really dumb. You can’t believe you’re doing this.

You’ve been sitting on a bench outside of the coffee shop for the past fifteen minutes. Granted, you’re the one who decided to show up fifteen minutes early, but you’re starting to regret that decision. At least it’s not cold out.

You had spent probably a good three hours debating what the hell you were going to wear. Might seem excessive but there were just so many points to consider. What if you come off too strong? but then again, you wouldn't want to underdress. Or overdress. It’s not even a date, he’s just giving you a ride around, right? Why are you stressing so much?

And so here you wait in your cute little mid-thigh skirt, having decided with a nod that it was a safe bet all around. Plus, it makes your legs look great.

You’re definitely thinking about this too hard.

A quick beep of a car horn catches your attention. You look up right as you feel the distinct purr of Jisung’s engine rumbling in your bones. Thank God, he actually came.

You’re not sure if you’re jittering from the excitement of going on a— Date? You really don’t want to make any assumptions because he hadn’t straight up asked you on a date per say— with the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes on or the excitement of getting to ride in his car. Maybe both. You clench and unclench your fists in anticipation. You’re positively itching to feel what it’s like on the road.

Jisung exits the low car smoothly, heading towards you with a wave. His eyes scrunch up at the corners when he smiles, painting his expression with such a lovely friendliness that makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry. His outfit drastically contrasts his inviting face though, he’s dressed in dark grey washed jeans and a burnt orange short sleeve that hugs his upper body almost skin-tight, a jacket tied loosely around his waist. The duality of man, you suppose. The slicked back style of his hair on top of literally everything else about him screams one thing. This man looks like a goddamn racer.

As soon as you realize you’ve been gawping at him for a good couple of moments now, you snap your focus up to his eyes, already feeling a blush creeping it’s way across your cheeks.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, officer,” Jisung gives you a quick up and down, meeting your eyes afterwards with a look that can only be described as playfulness.

Oh he just knows he’s hot, doesn’t he? Obviously you’re not going to argue, because he’s right.

“Oh my god, don’t call me that,” You protest, lightly punching his arm in retaliation. You definitely don’t miss the unmistakable feeling of muscle under your fist, but that’s really besides the point. The point is he has you all bothered and shit with that nickname. You’ve never been called ‘officer’ so… affectionately.

“You’re right,” He raises his hands in defense, “my bad, babe.��

A retort shrivels on your tongue. You’re pretty sure you can feel your body temprature go up at least two degrees as Jisung heads back to his car, beckoning you to follow him. His back is turned but you can already imagine that little self-satisfied smirk on his face.

He’s going to be the death of you.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You can feel the weight of your body being pressed back into the seat as Jisung speeds up his pace, making your eyes nearly roll back into your head.

The engine roars in your ears as you watch the speedometer whip from zero to sixty in the span of three point five seconds. You can’t help but have a wide grin plastered on your face. It feels like a good stretch after a day of sitting on the couch, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve just, well, drove. Carefree, without the looming restriction of a speed limit or the stress of swerving after a runaway car. Just you and the road. And Jisung, but that’s a plus.

One of the biggest reasons you had strived to join the police force throughout the beginning of your adolescence is that you just could not get enough of that adrenaline rush that comes from zooming down the highway at outrageous hours of the night, competing with your high school friends to see who’s car could accelerate the quicket, maintain the best speed, sound the coolest. The amount of sleepness nights you had spent installing countless upgrades on your car just to beat your friends in some silly bet over a couple of dollars instilled in you the certainty that this is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life.

You had foolishly thought that becoming an officer would cure that hunger burning in your gut, but it just made it worse. You didn’t realize just how bad it had gotten until just now, the familiar sound of hopping gears and the healthy rev of a well-loved engine resurfaces so many emotions that you had so carefully stowed away when you had all graduated and moved on to university, no longer having the time or bravery to risk getting caught anymore.

You glance over at Jisung in the driver’s seat. He looks so at ease, you can tell this is his home, his element. You wonder if he feels the same emptiness by adhereing to the law that you do. It seems taboo to think that way, given your occupation, but you can’t help it.

Jisung flicks on his blinker to exit the highway, and you give him a look out of the corner of your eye.

“Mind telling me where we’re going?” You inquire as he slows to a stop at the intersection.

“Thought it would be nice to go to dinner, don’t you think so?” He glances down either side of the street to ensure it’s clear as he proposes the offer.

Maybe that empty feeling in your stomach was hunger.

“Yeah, actually, I do think so.”

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The restaurant seems strangely empty. A few of the white-clothed tables scattered about the hall are occupied by the quiet bubble of conversation, but other than that the atmosphere is quite still.

Jisung pulls out your chair for you, flamboyantly flipping his hand into a bow as he waits for you to sit. You roll your eyes, badly supressing a smile as you slide into the seat with as much grace as you can manage.

You had both just picked up the menus that had been set in front of you when a low whistle sounds from behind you.

“Who’s the pretty lady, huh, J? Finally found the time to go through that roster of yours?” Your body tenses as someone approaches from the side. You quickly turn your head to get a better view of the newcomer. Oh wow. Was Jisung just friends with hot people in general?

“Ha ha.” Jisung pulls a half-amused face at the man, and gestures to the seat next to him. “This is Changbin. He’s not usually like this, I swear,” Jisung reassures you, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest as Changbin plops down on the seat over. Despite his bold entrance, he nods politely at you in greeting. It becomes evident that he’s just trying to mess with Jisung, meaning no ill-intent (or even much intrest) towards you. You let your muscles relax.

“Well, were you gonna bring her with us tonight?” Changbin gestures towards you, “you know they always get their panties in a twist when one of us has a girl on our arm—”

“She works in law enforcement, isn’t that cool?” Jisung announces a little too loudly, interrupting Changbin, who immediately snaps his mouth shut.

You don’t miss the way Jisung quirks an eyebrow ever-so-slightly at him, a warning. Huh. Your eyes squint in suspicion. What’s this all about?

“Bring me where?” You question Changbin innocently, pushing past Jisung’s subject change and batting your eyes once or twice, just for good measure.

“Bring you to— well, I mean, It’s a place. Definitely. Yeah. Bring you to a place. Somewhere,” Changbin keeps glancing at Jisung as he speaks, who is currently pinching his nosebridge between two fingers, head tilted towards the ceiling.

Changbin falls silent after that, suddenly very intrested in the condition of his shoelaces. You shift your gaze between the two men as an awkward pause falls over the table.

After a long sigh eminating from Jisung, he leans forwards on the table, hands clasped in front of him. His voice is lowered as he speaks.

“Do you trust me?” His eyes bore into your own, not breaking contact as your mind starts running a mile a minute.

Now, the logical answer you would give to a stranger you hardly know is a resounding ‘of course not,’ but this isn’t just anyone. It’s Jisung. The man who risked his very life to save yours, out of the pure goodness of his heart. You can’t imagine not trusting him, you realize. Because you do, you trust him more than you trust yourself, because he did what you couldn’t that day. Without him, you wouldn’t even be here.

“…Yes, I trust you,” You respond, conviction clear in your voice.

Jisung lets out a breath, once again settling back in his chair.

“Then buckle up babe, ‘cause you’re in for a wild night,” He says with a soft chuckle, just as a loud commotion breaks through the restaurant and crowds of people start to pour in through the front door.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Jisung is a racer. A street racer, to be specific. Very dangerous, and definitely very illegal.

The restaurant turned out to be a meeting point for two rival districts to compete in some sort of tiebreaker race tonight, and it seems like nearly the entire city had come to watch. Jisung had dragged you through the bustling hall off into a corner, where he met up with Changbin and one other racer. You think you heard the name ‘Chan’ but you’re not too sure. It’s quite loud when you have a room filled with excited fans shouting bets this way and that, sure that their district will win and that they’ll walk home with the jackpot.

Jisung, Changbin, and Chan form a three person racing team. They call themselves ‘3racha’. You thought the name was a joke at first, but the laugh caught in your throat when you realized they were being dead serious. Right now the three are huddled together, murmuring over the pre-determined race course, deciding on any last minute strategies.

Right about now, you should be alerting your police team of the highly illegal activity buzzing all around you. Troops would be sent in immediately and the whole event would be shut down, arrests being made left and right.

But, you don’t want that to happen. Not in the slightest.

You know could lose everything over this, your career, your friends, your reputation. None of that matters to you right now. All you want is to see Jisung and his team race.

Not far off, a group that you assume to be the opposing team stares daggers at 3racha, the tallest one of them making eye contact with you. He says something with a scoff, but you can’t make it out just by reading his lips. Whatever it was though, his other two teammates found it hilarious, one doubling over with laughter and the other giving him a jovial smack on the back.

You back away from their prying eyes, accidentally colliding with Jisung in the process. He looks up at you as you send him a quick ‘sorry’, then he shifts his gaze to the still chortling trio. You can see something in his normally soft gaze harden as he straightens up and reaches an arm around your shoulder, gently but firmly pulling you flush to him.

His physical presence overwhelms your senses, suddenly wrapped in a blanket that dulls the rest of the chaos out. You’re positive he can feel your heart racing as he leans in to whisper in your ear,

“I need you to ignore them, okay? They’re just trying to get us bothered, and you’re an easy target for them. Just stick by us. Can you do that for me?” His breath tickles your ear with every syllable he speaks, making your legs weak. You manage a nod and he pulls away from you with a reassuring pat to your shoulder.

Changbin sends a not-so-discreet middle finger their way, which earns both a scowl from the them and a reprimanding tap on the back of the head from Chan.

Frankly, you are a bit overwhelmed. Even though it was just for a second, you miss Jisung’s calming arm around you. Without it, you feel like you are drowning in the unfamiliar voices babbling every which way, every conversation fighting to be understood in your mind at once. Usually, you know exactly how to handle any given situation with a clear mind— it’s part of your job after all— but this? It’s all so foreign to you you don’t even know where to begin.

As soon as the clock strikes midnight, the crowd forms a clear space around both of the teams, allowing room for them to exit the building and enter their vehicles. You scurry after 3racha, feeling quite out of place.

It was to be a relay race. The rules are simple: Three laps around the entire course, each lap assigned to a respective member of each team. Whichever team’s car crosses the finish line first, wins the tiebreaker and takes home the prize. You can tell that mountains of cash are on the line for the boys. Some of the numbers you hear thrown around have your eyes as wide as saucers. If 3racha really is that good, it’s no wonder Jisung is able to afford the kind of car he has.

You’re watching Jisung do a once over of his car, ensuring that everything is safely in order, when he crosses over to you, extending his hand. You furrow your brows, slightly confused, but you take his hand. He smiles, wrapping his fingers tightly around you and squeezing once.

“I want you to ride with me, please?” He says, eyes never leaving your face. You stand in silence for a moment, just soaking in the weight of his hand and the familiarness of his face. The curve of his eyebrow, the slope of his nose, the way his bottom lip always seems to pout out just a little bit, and, oh, those eyes. You feel like you’ve known him for your entire life.

You feel yourself break into a smile.

“Let’s go then,” you squeeze his hand in return.

Jisung’s engine roars to life as him and the other first racer, the tall one’s name is apparently Hyunjin, line up at the designated starting line. 3racha had implored that Jisung go for the first lap, so they would have a healthy leg up on the competition come the second lap, where Changbin would be waiting.

As you wait for the countdown to start your knee bounces up and down, the sickly feeling of intense anticipation eating its way through your stomach.

You feel Jisung’s gaze as he glances over at you, a half grin on his face. What’s he thinking? Your internal question is soon answered as he reaches over and grabs your hand, guiding it to rest on the gearshift.

“10!” A loud voice bellows from a megaphone from outside. The countdown has begun.

Jisung clasps his hand over your own, capturing you in between himself and the vehicle. He’s so warm. Meeting your eyes, he gives you a reassuring nod when he spots your expression, running a thumb along the back of your hand. Now your heart is pounding for a different reason.

“3!” The revving of engines combines with the rush of blood in your ears, the vibrations sending a chill up your spine.

“2!”

“1!”

“Go!”

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