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egoistars · 2 months ago

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HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi

(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)

~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak

Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:

The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)

An insane growth spurt

Probably shell shock syndrome

And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses

TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking.

It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.

One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone.

A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.

With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over.

Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand.

Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”

“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”

“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.

“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.

“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.

Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”

“Uh, yeah,” he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”

“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”

“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet.

“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”

“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”

“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.

“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.

“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”

“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense.

Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him.

When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor.

“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”

“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.

“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”

You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”

“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog.

“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”

“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”

“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”

“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.

—

The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.

>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow

>i’ll need to try each ball out

>you did this to yourself

>shitty driver

A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting.

Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.

“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.

You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.

“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand.

“Can you give me the address again..?”

“You’re a freak.”

Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes.

“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education.

“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn’t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead.

“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”

“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”

Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.

“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged.

“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”

“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”

You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.

Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance.

It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.

Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.

Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.

“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”

Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.

“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”

The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.

“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”

“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”

“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”

“Do you really think I care about that?”

“...no…”

“...”

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”

—

By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi.

However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.

“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.

“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”

“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”

“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”

“I’m not asking for money.”

“Then what is it?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart.

You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun.

He really can’t wait to come home.

#itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #blue lock x reader #blue lock sae #blue lock itoshi sae #bllk sae #bllk itoshi sae #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #bllk #blue lock #blue lock fluff #this fic is my farm fed organic almond baby

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emmyrosee · 18 days ago

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I neeedd you at some point write uni au Toji proposing to reader and megumi helping out in the background somehow

NOOOO BC IMAGINE TOJI TRYING TO GET THE WORDS OUT, AND MEGUMI IS PLAYING WITH THE BUTTERFLY THATS FLYING AROUND SJDJDINEKEENE IM UNWELL- also i had to go with a western approach for proposal im sORRY-

Like, Toji has practiced this speech before. A lot. He’s trying to keep his declaration of love for you concise but meaningful, simple but sweet, but what he does know, is he wants Megumi to be the one holding the box.

Because you haven’t just accepted toji for all he is. You’ve also taken megumi as your whole world, and he never can say just how grateful he is for that.

So, he works it all out. He’s going to propose in the courtyard, and his buddies are going to help him decorate it up slightly, so your friends can take pictures of the event. He’ll have Megumi bring out the small box with the ring in it, give a short but sweet speech about how much he loves and needs you in his life, only to pop the question there.

Your friends spend the week prior to pamper you, and toji makes it a point to compliment you on your updates- the small kiss you press to his cheek in appreciation is enough to make it worth it, but he just hopes you don’t catch on to anything until the end of the week.

“Geez,” you giggle. “The girls are getting me buttered up for something,” you say one night. “Every time I ask about it, they tell me it’s self care week, but we’ve never done this thorough before.”

“You have been extra busy lately, maybe they’re just trying to take care of you,” he defends.

You open your mouth to say something, only to completely change your demeanor as megumi appears in the doorway, stuffed cow clutched to his chest and a soft “daaaaad?” falling from his lips. He’s grateful for the topic change, not wanting you to ruin your own proposal with your damn questions.

The day of the proposal, you’re kept far away from campus, last minute touch ups and errands while Toji’s friends help him set up the perfect decorations and ambiance for pictures that your friends are scheduled to take.

Everything goes to plan. Everything is perfect.

And when you finally come up to him, a knowing smile and tears in your eyes, he wastes no time in kissing your cheek, then between your brows, your nose, and-

There’s a soft giggle behind him. One from megumi. Your eyes leave Toji’s to turn to the small boy, laughing as you watch. When toji also turns to see his son, there’s a large monarch butterfly that’s fluttering around, delicate wings brushing against the small boys cheek, only to then land on it moments later. Instinctively, Megumi goes to wipe his cheek, and when the butterfly tries to land once more, tiny hands bat at it away, causing everyone watching to coo in adoration.

“Kid’s stealing my thunder,” toji chuckles, and you laugh as a tears finally fall from your eye, and his big hand comes up to swipe the drop from your cheek. “Megs, c’mere.”

“Pretty butterfly,” the small boy hums, but he does toddle over to his dad with the small box in his hand, and you let the floodgates open. You’re trying to wipe the tears from your eyes, freeing your sight from the blur, and you watch as Toji gets down on one knee, flips open the box and reveals the ring. Toji sighs, “I couldn’t afford a bigger one, but someday, I promise you, I’ll-“

“Don’t,” you say softly. “It’s perfect. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen, Toji.”

“I helped,” megumi says shyly, rocking back and forth on his feet. You laugh around your tears and gently grab his cheeks, placing a big kiss to the swell. He giggles and smiles at the affection, wrapping his arms around your neck. You scoop him up, but leave your left hand open for his father to slip the ring on, a final seal as you truly become a family.

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casualhedonists · 11 months ago

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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter four)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 4/?

SERIES MASTERLIST

words: 6.3k (🫠)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: thank you for your patience while i got my shit together (christmas edition). enjoy, this filth seems to get longer with each chapter. i’ll be gone for a few weeks over the holidays, so no chapter updates for a bit, but have no doubt i’ll be back for more in the new year <;33

Coriolanus Snow was not a patient man. He’d played the long game enough times in his climb to the top of Panem to know that once he got up there, he wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines anymore, waiting for life to happen to him. He would take what he wanted from whoever he wanted, with no delay.

Who were you to tell him what he could and couldn’t have? Who were you to deny him, walking away like you’d won, like you’d just played him like a fiddle and left him out in the dust? He replayed your self-satisfied smile as you disappeared from his view and he stood there, considering his options. The most tempting would be to follow you back to your room, to shove you up against a wall, to tear off his jacket and watch that smug look melt right off your face.

The second would’ve been to send for the whore, but it would’ve been a cheap thrill and besides, you’d made a point of getting rid of her.

He’d almost had you, he could see it. Could see the quiver in your lip as your blown-out eyes had rolled open, before you’d climbed off his lap. He was certain that if he chipped away at enough of your resolve, you’d give in. The thought of having to work for this incensed him, who were you to make demands from the President himself?

But the calculating part of his brain decided, with disdain, that he would have to be patient for once. He doubted you could go very long before giving into him; he’d seen it in your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him that night.

You wanted to go on a power trip? Fine. Snow knew it would be short lived, and you were making enough of a spectacle of yourself that it should prove entertaining to him. He decided he was going to let you have your fun, brief and fleeting as it may be. He always did enjoy a chase, and he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

You wanted to play? Fine.

He closed his door, leaving it unlocked.

Let the games begin.

Breakfast was a sweet kind of torture. You’d wrapped a short, silk dressing gown around your underwear set from the night before, confident after your first good night’s sleep in weeks. Headed downstairs early, so you could be there when he walked in.

“Morning, sweetie.” You smiled as you sipped at a cup of coffee.

Snow’s eyes narrowed. He sat opposite you without a word, pouring himself a cup and buttering a piece of toast. His morning paper was neatly folded on the side, and you eyed it quickly, before taking him in.

It was subtle – something probably only you could pick up on, knowing what you did – but it was there, in the slight crinkle of his usually perfect shirt, in the way he took coffee instead of tea, in the way he focused carefully on spreading the butter to every edge of his slice of toast. You glanced down again, a mischievous sense of pride filling you up.

You’d gotten under his skin.

Finally.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I don’t know about you, but I slept like a log. You?”

His eyes met yours heatedly, but he didn’t reply. One of his footmen stood posted by the door, eyes straight ahead.

“No?” You faked pity. “You look a little tired, Coriolanus. Rough night?”

Nothing. He didn’t respond to your taunts, but instead took his paper, unfolding it, and you watched intently with a glint in your eye as you saw him react to something slipping out of the pages and into his lap.

He let out a surprised scoff, lowered the paper, and looked straight at you. Your eyebrows raised in response.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, with a lilt in your voice.

When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.

“Leave us, please.” He said to the footman, without breaking off his stare once. The footman obliged, closing the door behind him. His eyes bored into you with a similar intensity as they had the night before.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He asked, but it was flat like a statement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You batted your eyes, feigning innocence.

He lifted his hand from his lap, holding up the pair of white lace panties you’d tucked between the folds of his newspaper. Raised his eyebrows in a question.

“Oh,” you smiled. “Whoops. I’d been wondering where I left those.”

His stare remained unfaltering, and you rubbed your legs together.

“Very cute, sweetheart.”

You smirked.

“You think so? Just something to remember me by. Lucille said you’ll be gone until tomorrow for work, I wouldn’t want you forgetting about last night.”

His eyes darkened, never leaving yours as you stood, making your way down the table.

“It’s a shame, really. I feel a little guilty about what I did. I got you all worked up for nothing.”

He scoffed, watching as you got closer.

“Yeah, you seem all torn up about it.”

You hummed, reaching him, and nodded at his lap, where his hand gripped the white lace.

“May I?”

“Be my guest.” He said tightly.

You straddled his lap again, and he looked up at you. You felt another surge of that power, standing over him with very little between you, as you ran your palms over his jacket, smoothing it out, then plucking the white rose from his breast pocket, and tucking your panties inside. As you pushed the rose back in, you smiled, satisfied.

“I should be more careful about misplacing things,” you mused, “Could’ve sworn I threw those in the laundry. You want to know something funny?”

“What?” Snow watched your hand pull away, and you met his gaze again.

“I’m not even sure I’m wearing a pair right now.”

It happened so quickly, it knocked the breath out of you. One second, you were balanced with your legs either side of his, and the next, you were pushed back onto the table as he stood, grabbing your waist, and leaning over you. A plate shattered on the floor, but Coriolanus didn’t flinch.

You squirmed but he gripped your hips harder, sliding one hand up to support your back and stop you from toppling straight onto the table. The cold wood pressed into your bare legs, and a glass dug into your back. You realised with a shaky breath that your dressing gown had fallen open. He was stood flush between your legs, pinning you down.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snapped.

“I told you, didn’t I?” A hum as his hips rolled into yours. “Whatever I want.”

“I could force your hand, you know.” He commented. “Right now.”

“You think I wouldn’t want you to?”

His face was unreadable. His head dipped towards yours, and when he spoke it brushed against your lips.

“You really are a whore.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I know you’re all bark and no bite. You want to know why I know that, Snow?”

He huffed.

“Why?”

“Because I think you like chasing me.” Your eyes lowered to your legs, pressed apart by his hips. Your ankles wrapped around his lower back and pressed him in further. His jaw clenched.

He followed your gaze, and you felt his breath hitch when he saw that you weren’t lying, there was nothing between the two of you except his pants.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

It did something to you, hearing him so desperate. You pulled him in again with your heels, and he looked back at you. He rocked his hips, velvet cloth rubbing against your bare cunt, and you gasped at the feeling, still sore from last night.

Any time now.

“You want to fuck me, Snow?” You whispered. “Do it. Right now, I won’t stop you.”

His breaths were heavy as he rocked his hips again, firm, and it was obscene, really, how you could feel the outline of his cock pushing against you through the thick material, and his breath was getting laboured.

Almost there.

“Knew you’d give in.” His voice was rough as he pressed in harder, and you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, “So fucking desperate. Didn’t expect you to open your legs this soon, though. Thought you’d rile me up for a few days first. But look at you,” he rambled, “giving up so easily. Where’s all that fight now, sweetheart?”

A loud rap sounded at the door.

There it is.

You couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across your face as he stopped still.

“Oh,” you blinked innocently at him, “I wonder who that could be.”

“President Snow? We’re ready for you, sir.” The footman’s voice was muffled through the door.

“Well, would you look at the time? I guess duty calls, Mr President.”

He scowled, shooting ice cold daggers at you.

“You bitch. You knew.”

“And you fell for it.” You smirked, digging your heels into his back again. “Who’s desperate now?”

He scoffed, meeting your eye again.

“You think you’re so smart, little girl. You really think I’d mind if they walked in on me fucking you into the table?”

“I know you’re not against having an audience, Snow. But what are you gonna do, hang the health minister if he walks in? I know you’re not above it, but it’d be a slight inconvenience. Surely there are wiser ways to spend your precious time.”

“Yeah? Try me.”

His nails dug into your back as he pulled you in closer. For just a second, you had a doubt. But not long enough.

“I’m calling your bluff, Coriolanus Snow.”

He shook his head. Peeled himself off you with a huff, and tried to smooth out his shirt, glaring at you the whole time.

“I’ll be right out.” He called.

You slid off the table and stood, tying your gown, then reaching to fiddle with his collar. He batted your hand away.

“Let me.” You reached out again.

“Fine.”

Your hands smoothed over the material, straightening it out, then once you were satisfied, they rested on his chest for a beat.

“You look handsome.” You confessed quietly, not meeting his eye as you spoke. You could feel his stare burning into you as you did. When you finally looked, his expression had shifted to something unreadable again. Confusion, perhaps. It was times like these when you wished you could read his mind.

The moment finally passed and you cleared your throat, trailing a hand over his breast pocket, a physical reminder of the game you were intent on winning.

“This was fun.” You declared with a smile, putting the mask back on. “Hurry back. What time shall I expect you?”

“No later than noon.” He watched as you stepped away.

“I look forward to it,” you smiled, playing with the string of your gown, “sweetheart.”

With Snow out of the house, you jumped at the chance to head straight upstairs, making a beeline for his room. Something inside you just knew the door would be unlocked, that he wouldn’t be able to resist. You were right.

At last, you were able to take a good look around the room, touring it as if it was some art museum. And it wasn’t far from it; with wood panelled walls and strong beams on the ceiling, plush velvet throw pillows and bedsheets, with crisp white linen tucked underneath. You wandered around for a while, brushing your fingers over the sides, taking it all in. It was perfectly neat, almost jarringly so. You wondered if he always kept it like this, or if it was for your benefit. Since he’d probably guessed you’d be going inside, you took little guilt in peeking into a few drawers, and flipping through the pages of the book on his nightstand.

Your curiosity then took you into the bathroom, where, after scanning the shelves, you decided to undress and take a shower, steam and the smell of his soap filling the large room. You took the opportunity to slide your hands between your legs and replay the morning’s events, filling in what you’d have had liked to have happen instead of him leaving. When you were finished, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel, and walked out, spotting a glass bottle of cologne on the edge of the sink. With a smile, you gently sprayed a little on your wrist, breathing it in, sighing deeply as the smell of him went to your head.

You got dressed again, thumbing through his closet, basking in the buzz you had from being in his space. You sat on his bed, taking his room in from a new perspective. When you were satisfied, you headed back to your own with a smile, only coming back that evening with a handful of your things, before falling into a peaceful sleep under his sheets.

A few days passed after that morning, and you barely saw Snow. He’d come back, but gone straight to his office, where he proceeded to spend long hours on the phone, stuck on some important business you had no business nosing about.

So, you waited, your games paused and painfully anticlimactic. You hated feeling like a helpless housewife, but this was apparently what you’d been reduced to. You saw your friends some of the evenings, and your family on others. Then you’d come home to hover outside Snow’s locked study to listen to the sounds of pen on paper, peppered with the occasional sigh. You would have waited for him to come out, but you gave up as the hours drawing longer. He stayed holed up in his office, night after night, and by the time he’d finished the evening’s work, sleep had long carried you away.

It hadn’t all been dull; you’d fallen into a habit of sneaking pairs of your underwear in with the clean laundry that was carried up to his room, and that had earned you a little attention, but it was merely in passing. A few heated glances at the dinner table, a brush past each other in the hallway. You’d go so far as to say it was almost like flirting, only laced with the undertones of something far heavier. It wasn’t enough for you now that you’d tasted what you could have if only you reached for it, and you started to go a little stir crazy again.

One of these nights, you’d slipped into his empty room after dark, and lay in his bed, trying to stay awake as long as you could, but sleep caught up to you and by morning, you woke alone, wrapped in soft sheets, no sign of Snow except for a slightly warm dent on his side of the bed that had long been abandoned.

You got nothing. Not a touch, not an argument, not a kiss. For a week and a half, until he was called away again. Your annoyance had started to creep back up on you tenfold by then, and you were practically crawling out of your skin.

You saw your family for dinner more and more, making a habit out of filling the empty space he'd left with small talk and laughter. It was on one such night, when you'd been silently mulling over what move to make next, that your mother mentioned a name you hadn't heard in years, and you knew right away what to do. You were done hiding away, you wanted to make yourself known. Make every second Snow spent in your presence a living hell, and a reminder of what you’d denied him. You'd hoped for something outrageous, something that would push him to the very edge. And if this didn't work, nothing would.

Nathaniel Greene was an old flame of yours. He’d always been good to you, warm and well-meaning; and he was handsome, in a gentle, boyish way. When your mother mentioned him, a beautifully cruel idea struck you. You weren’t naturally as cold-hearted as Coriolanus, but as the weeks had gone by, you’d begun to believe that maybe, in order to win this, you needed to be. Nathaniel would be perfect; the two of you had been school friends, you had history, something Snow couldn’t compete with, and you knew that would drive him insane. He was all soft edges, smiles, and pleasantries, everything that Snow wasn’t.

You felt a sliver of guilt as you began putting your plan together, but you reasoned that you and Snow had bruised each other, and low blows were what it would take for you to press into his the hardest. This was always never going to be simple; it was a messy game, and you needed to get your hands dirty.

Besides, he’d paraded a whore around the house for you to watch him fucking for weeks on end. It was fair game, you reminded yourself. So with that decided, you rose to the occasion, and the plan was set into motion.

That was how it came to be that on the day Snow returned, he walked in to find a guest sat in his living room. You were all false smiles and batted eyelashes when you saw him.

“Coriolanus, you’re back. I’d like you to meet Nathaniel, he and I used to be friends at school.”

Nathaniel rose from his seat on the sofa, and leaned toward Snow to shake his hand.

“Mr President, sir, it’s an absolute honor to be in your company. You have a lovely house.”

Nathaniel missed the slight tick in Snow’s jaw, but you didn’t. He offered his hand in response.

“The pleasure’s mine. Any… friend of my girl is always welcome here.”

My girl. The words went straight to your head, and Coriolanus pulled you in for a kiss that lingered half a second longer than usual, like he knew.

“Would you like some tea, sweetheart?” You asked, “Nathaniel and I were just catching up.”

“I remember that summer.” You laughed. “Your aunt took us to the coast, and we swam in the ocean at least twice a day. It was so cold one morning, your cousin’s lips turned blue. And on the way home, we had to stop at that inn, do you remember it?”

“With the owner and his crazy beard.”

“The crazy beard owner!” you exclaimed. “And the room you and I stayed in was so laughably small, the bed touched three of the walls all at once. Cozy, though.”

Nathaniel glanced awkwardly between the two of you, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, those were, uh… good times.”

Fire ran rampant through Snow’s eyes. You didn’t look directly at him, but your peripherals gave you plenty of satisfaction.

He was enraged. Good. You’d been mercilessly torturing him for the better part of an hour.

“Oh, Nathaniel, that reminds me, I’ll go get the book I was telling you about earlier.”

“Book?” He frowned, “I don’t-”

“You know the one! I’ll be right back.” You interrupted, then practically bounced out of your seat and walked toward the library. At the far end of the large room, you paused, pretending earnestly to scan the spines for a particular title.

You were quiet, making sure you could hear the echo of Snow excusing himself, followed by steady footsteps approaching you from behind.

“Something wrong?” You asked, keeping your back turned.

He grabbed your waist and spun you around. Backed you up until you were pressed to the wall, wooden shelves digging into your spine.

“Give me one good reason,” he spat, “why I shouldn’t kill that boy right now.”

You blinked.

“What’s wrong, Snow? Can’t take a little jealousy? Surprising, given your recent choice of company.”

“So that’s it? All this to get a rise out of me? You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” he scoffed.

You smiled, meeting his eye.

“Oh, but maybe I should. See, Coriolanus, here’s the thing.” you leaned towards him, running a finger down the front of his dress shirt, catching over each shining button as it glided down. “I haven’t decided if I should fuck him, yet. What do you think I should do?”

“I think,” he snarled, grabbing your wrists and pressing them against the wooden shelves, then dropping his voice down to a whisper, his breath mixing with yours, “that I should fuck you right here while he listens in the next room, and show him who you really belong to.”

You faltered, if only for a few moments. Your pride wavering as you heard the want drip from his voice, still getting used to his eyes skating across your skin the way you’d hoped and prayed they would for months. If you wanted it, you could take it right now, and you almost folded. He moved in ever closer, and your head dropped against the bookshelf, letting his lips graze your neck, blonde curls dusting your shoulder. You stayed there, suspended, letting it roll over you like water.

“What would your little friend in there think, if he could hear how much of a whore you really are? I wouldn’t even let you cover your mouth. I’d just hike up your slutty little dress and send you back out there with cum dripping down your thighs. How do you think he’d like you then?”

Your breath hitched, and you squeezed your eyes closed, pressing your legs together. Tried to rationalise the logic of throwing your plans to the wind and letting him stake his claim on you.

You considered it. Briefly.

But you were already in so deep, you had to see this through. Snow had fucked with you, then left you out to dry, and you had to make sure he would never do it again. So no, you wouldn’t be the one to fold. He would, on your terms. And now wasn’t the time, not yet.

So you collected yourself. Pulled away, batting your pretty eyes at him.

“Oh, but I’m having so much fun.”

“Don’t test me. You’ve proved your point.” he seethed, stepping closer, and one more inch and you might burst-

“Nathaniel’s waiting. I’ll see you at dinner, Coriolanus.”

With that, you slipped away, silently catching your breath.

You’d just finished dinner alone, no Snow in sight, and you were walking back towards the hallway when the doors swung open.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your hands were above your head as Snow pushed you into the dining room wall. This was starting to become a habit. A sly smile pulled at your lips.

“Stings, doesn’t it? Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

He got in close, rage burning hot in his eyes.

“What you did was different, and you know that."

"I don't know, Coriolanus, was it? I've just been so bored, lately. Idle hands, I suppose."

If looks could kill, you'd be a goner.

"That's your excuse? At least I had the decency to fuck a stranger. Tell me you didn’t-”

You laughed.

“You really think I’d do anything without making sure you watched? God, Snow, you don’t know me at all.”

He moved in closer.

“If you ever do that again, if you so much as look his way, I’ll have him whipped in the middle of the city. Or maybe I won’t bother. I’ll just have him hung, and I’ll make sure you’re there at the front of the crowd to watch him drop, knowing his blood is on your hands. Do you understand me?”

You set your jaw. Shrugged.

“Okay.”

He frowned. You took pride in the way you could see it, him trying desperately to figure you out.

“Okay?” He repeated.

“You heard me. You think I really care enough about him, that I’d invite him into the house just to make you jealous, then expect him to end up alive? How stupid do you think I am?”

You did care about Nathaniel, at least enough to not want him dead, but Snow couldn’t know that. Not for this to work.

“You’re bluffing.” But you could hear in his voice that he wasn’t sure.

“Am I? Your threats don’t phase me, Coriolanus. Do your worst, I don’t care anymore. What, did you think I’d try to talk you out of it? You think I’d beg?”

His bewilderment caused him to drop your wrists, and you took the chance to push yourself away from the wall.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I won’t fold. I meant what I said that night. You want me to be yours, you want to own me? You have to earn it. My way. You’re not going to get anywhere trying to scare me into submission. It won’t work.”

Disbelief flashed across his face. You stood your ground, raising your head up high, leaning in.

“I don’t want to fight you, Coriolanus.” You confessed. “Your room. An hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Say what you wanted about Coriolanus Snow, but when you asked him to be on time, he obliged. You didn’t even need to hear his footsteps to know he’d come, which you’d grown finely attuned to by now, enough to hear them leave his office two rooms away and walk the short distance to his room, swinging open the door you’d left decidedly ajar.

And you made sure what he walked in on was a sight to behold; you, sprawled out on his bed in nothing but a white shirt of his, unbuttoned all the way down, falling to your sides. Your head pressed into his silk pillowcases, legs parted lazily as your hand rubbed slow circles on your clit beneath the red lace of your underwear. You could tell from the look on Snow’s face when you rolled your head to the side and looked at him that you’d had the desired effect, that you’d orchestrated this perfectly, because he couldn’t take his eyes off your hand, hips rocking into it, the visual made all the more lewd by the scrap of fabric hiding your movements, leaving his brain to fill in the blanks.

You slowed.

“Glad you could make it.” A small smile formed on your lips.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

“I have. Your bed’s a lot softer than mine.”

He hummed, crossing his arms.

“Why did you ask me here, sweetheart? This is my room, after all.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and even that small motion wasn’t lost on him. Your hand stilled.

“I waited for you.” You said quietly.

He let out a sigh, ragged and tired.

“I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you knew how badly I wanted to see you-”

“Don’t. I don’t want your apology.”

His expression gave way to confusion for a split second.

“Okay. What is it you want?”

You paused, gaze flitting between his eyes and his mouth. Then you swallowed, your voice an embrassing whisper.

“I want your mouth on me.” It almost hurt to hold his stare, but you did.

“That so?” was the response. You cleared your throat.

“You say you’re sorry, Snow? Prove it. I’m right here.”

He paused, like he was mulling you over. Like he was figuring out just how to play his cards. Then a small smile pulled at his lips.

“Take your hand away.” His voice was rough, and it gave him away.

You obliged, watching him step towards the bed, towards you. He rolled up his sleeves, eyes on yours and your stomach twisted.

There he is.

“If you’re going to be making demands, it’s only polite that you ask nicely. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You nodded, flushing under his stare.

“You want me to take these off?” He smoothed his hands up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the band of your panties. You'd missed feeling his hands on your skin.

You nodded again, and he tutted.

“Yes.” You corrected. “Please.”

“Good. It was about time you learned some manners.” He slowly slid them off, and you lifted your hips to help him. His gaze slid between your legs, and you shifted your knee so you were covered.

“Not getting shy now, are you? Open your legs for me.” He instructed, and you obliged, burning under the heat of his gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off before moving in towards you, kneeling on the ottoman. You were already soaked, and you could feel the heat building even more, just from having him near you, having him see what a dripping mess you were.

“Shit.” It was no louder than a whisper, but your perked ears caught it and you pressed your lips together.

He tentatively pushed his thumb through your folds and you whined, a look on his face like he couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at. Did it again, and it caught on your clit, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Please.”

“Good girl. You know how many times I’ve thought about this over the past week? I’ve lost sleep over it.”

“Coriolanus.”

He smoothed his hands over your thighs again, and you yelped as he suddenly pulled you forward, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He kept staring, and you couldn’t take it, blood rushing from your head, so you dropped it back onto the pillows.

“Look at me.” He squeezed your thigh.

You did. You felt a sliver of pride as you noted the slight flush in his cheeks, like maybe he was more worked up than he was letting on.

“You know how many times I came all over those pretty panties of yours, wishing you were wearing them? Think I lost count.”

You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you as his breath brushed over your folds, wound so tight you thought you would burst.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Say it again.”

“I want your mouth on me. Please, put your mouth on me.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice, because with a sharp inhale, he pressed his mouth onto your cunt and dragged his tongue over your clit, slowly, firm and deliberate, like he had an itemised list of exactly how to cause your undoing. You gasped at the sudden contact, and your hips bucked off the bed, before his fingers gripped into your hips the way they had the other night, and slammed you back down.

“So fucking needy. Were you really that worked up? Parading your little boy toy around will do that, huh?”

“I’m sorry.” You gasped, as he worked his tongue over your clit again, tracing slow, firm circles that made your legs weak. You grabbed a handful of his hair, blonde locks twisted between your fingers as he pulled away again. You whined.

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t think you are. But you will be.”

You didn’t have time to wonder what that meant, because his tongue was all over you again, lapping at your entrance, lips sucking loudly at your clit as you moaned, free hand twisting creases into his bedsheets.

“Fuck.” You keened as your hips bucked harder, searching for friction that was so close to being enough. Your heels pressed into his back and your hand tightened in his hair, to which he retaliated by digging his nails into your thighs, scraping against the almost-healed bruises that were left from the previous week. The pinch brought you further into that headspace, where you could feel yourself slipping away, crying out as you thrashed under the pressure of his tongue on your cunt.

You kept rocking your hips, hopelessly trying to grind against him, but his hands held you down firmly, keeping the pace torturously slow. You couldn’t help your spaced-out brain from slipping back to weeks ago, when you’d watched him do the same to his whore on this very bed, and you made a sound of protest that just melted in with the rest of your noises, going unnoticed.

You didn’t want to feel this way, to feel disposable, like he could just have his way with you and throw you out. You knew that if you didn’t do something, you’d lose yourself altogether. And you couldn’t bear that thought, of having to give in. Not like this. Not when he held all the cards again.

“I want to sit on your face.” You breathed without thinking, strung out and desperate. Coriolanus pulled back. A smirk on his lips, which were swollen red and covered in your slick. You whimpered as the soft light caught him, showing you the mess you’d made of his face, dripping down his chin.

“Do you now?”

“Please. I’ll ask nicely, I’ll – I’ll beg, if you want me to. Just please, let me sit on your face. I can’t take it anymore, I’m so-” You broke off, gasping as he pressed a soft kiss onto your clit, causing your legs to jolt.

“Poor thing. You really want it, don’t you?”

“Yes. Please, I’ll do anything. Just… please.”

“Good girl.” He murmured, trailing soft kisses down your thigh. “Since you’ve asked so nicely, I’ll let you. Just for a few minutes, okay? Think you can cum that fast?”

“Fuck, yes. Thank you.”

A messy tangle of limbs as he pulled his shirt off, sliding flat onto the bed, hands guiding your shaking legs as you inched over his torso. It was nearly too much, watching his pretty face as you lowered yourself onto him, but you couldn’t look away, hands grabbing the headboard to steady yourself. You couldn’t help but think back to that night, riding his thigh like you were being paid for it. As he carefully eased your hips down, thighs either side of his face, you knew this was going to be a hundred times better than that. And Snow didn’t disappoint, lifting his head to nuzzle your clit as you sucked in a breath, hips jolting forward. You dropped a hand to grab onto his hair, and he didn’t retaliate this time, letting you wind your fingers around his curls as you started to move slowly, rocking your hips against his mouth.

This was much better. The angle was perfect, pressure everywhere you needed it, and you tipped your head back as you moved, one languid lick causing it to drop forward again to look at Snow.

The only time he really moved was to pull you in firmer, and the motion reminded you of how he’d pulled you into his thigh, and before you knew it the ache in your stomach was growing into a throb, burning you up until it felt molten, until you felt drunk from it. The coil tightened further as you got into it, rolling your hips, tugging Snow’s hair to the point where you were sure it must’ve been hurting him, but he either didn’t care or just didn’t stop you. As your hips bucked faster and you looked down at his face, eyes hazy as he ate you out like he was starved, you couldn’t help it, you just started talking, rambling near nonsense and it wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck, that’s it, right there. You’re gonna make me cum all over your face if you keep that up. Holy shit.” Your grip in his hair tightened, so hard it was pulling his head back so you could grind against him just right, clit catching on his nose, cunt spasming against his tongue, and he winced, a broken sound escaping the back of his throat, but it only egged you on. Your voice breathy but taunting, getting cockier by the second.

“Does that hurt, baby? Am I pulling too hard?” His eyes narrowed, but his tongue only fucked into you harder. “You can take it though, can’t you? Fuck. You’re being so good for me, letting me fuck your face like this. Feels so fucking good. Shit, I thought you’d take more convincing, but look at you, eating from the palm of my hand.”

His hands gripped into your hips again, nails digging crescent moons into your skin, and you tightened your thighs around his head which only made him dig harder, the pain tipping you over the edge as you shouted out, hips jerking as your thighs shook, and Snow only pressed in firmer with his tongue as you came, riding out your high with a strangled sob.

He didn’t give you chance to come down from your orgasm, instead pushing you off his face and flipping you over. You landed on your back, scared for a second that you’d be punished for getting carried away, but his lips met yours in a sudden battle for dominance. You moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue. He’d never kissed you like this before. It lit another fire in your stomach, just when you thought you were done.

After what felt like a lifetime getting drunk off each other, he pulled away, and you got to see the mess you’d made of this man. There he was, propped above you, the most powerful man in the country, blonde hair a sweaty wreck of tangles, parted lips sore and swollen, your cum smeared across his mouth and chin, mixed with the trail of your wet tongue in the places you’d just cleaned him up.

You tasted it on your lips, heard it in his laboured breath, saw it in his blown-out eyes, felt it in the small space between you.

This was what power felt like.

He was shaking his head incredulously, like he couldn’t quite believe you. Then, ignoring your hiss, his head dipped between your legs again, smooth tongue rolling over you like cool water on a burn. You flinched, a broken sound slipping from your lips.

“Oh, come on. You can give me one more, right?”

Fuck.

“Coriolanus, I can’t-” You whined as his hot breath lit you up, long fingers sliding inside you.

“You will. Come on, baby. You can take my fingers, can’t you?” His voice mimicked yours as he opened you up, speeding up a little. You hummed as he pressed against your sweet spot, and you hated how it seemed like it was so easy to him, to take you apart like this.

“Good girl. Look at me.” He scolded, when your eyes rolled back, squirming from the overstimulation, pressing his thumb against your clit just to watch you jolt.

“You’re going to do something for me. You’re going to promise me you won’t ever see him again.”

“What? Who, Nathaniel? I-”

He pressed into your clit again, mean, and you squeaked.

“Don’t say his fucking name. Promise me, right now. Say it.”

“I promise. Never again. I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

“Good girl.” He smiled.

“Don’t want anyone else, just you, please. Please, Coriolanus. Will you promise me too?” Your words were airy, and your voice shook.

He slowed his fingers, and shifted himself up to place his lips on yours.

“I promise, sweetheart. It’ll just be us.” His fingers pressed into you harder, scissoring lazily, but every movement lit all your nerve endings on fire. You were so wet it was almost humiliating, or it would be if you weren’t so turned on, obscene sounds bouncing off the walls as he worked you open. Coriolanus could tell, smiling as he whispered praises, sweet nothings into your ear and added a third finger, thumb brushing across your clit as the sensitivity quickly morphed into more pleasure.

“You close again, baby?”

You only whimpered in response, head jerking as your eyes squeezed close, arm sliding down to grab his wrist, pushing it further. You were wrecked, and he knew it. It was his doing.

“Ah.” He knocked your hand away with a knowing smile. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’m listening.”

You paused, at a mental crossroads, but as he twisted his fingers just right, pressing deeper, you dropped all your inhibitions. Squeezed your eyes closed, cunt gripping his fingers, and confessed.

“I want you to fuck me.” You whispered.

You knew full well what it meant. You didn’t care anymore; you’d had your fun, and you were ready to fold. Lay all your cards out on the table. This ache inside you had never felt so loud. You refused to open your eyes, which were threatening to fill with desperate tears.

“Ask nicely.” He pulled his fingers back, dragging them along your sweet spot. You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.

“Please. Please, fuck me. I’m done, now, I promise. I won’t do it again, Coriolanus, I’m so sorry-”

“Say it again. One more time. Look at me.”

You sighed, eyes flooding with hot tears. You finally opened them.

“Please, Coriolanus. Fuck me.”

He smiled, but as quickly as it arrived, it morphed into something sinister.

“No.”

His hand stopped, fingers slipping out of you before you could stop them. Your high started to slip away. You rocked your hips, confused out of your mind. Driven to your edge, and then in the same breath, catapulting to a stop.

“I- wait, no… what?” You sounded delirious.

He shrugged, casually lifting his fingers, sucking them off with a pop.

“I don’t think I will. You’ve done quite enough, and I’ve had a long day. So I think you should be on your way now.”

You gaped, dumbfounded. The tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you held them in like they were your last shred of pride.

“But… you said we wouldn’t… I thought-”

He traced a hand across your check, gently, and it took everything in you not to sob.

“I meant what I said. But I’m not quite ready to forgive and forget. You should go and get some sleep.”

“Coriolanus, I- please.” You begged him, eyes wild and desperate.

“Stings, doesn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows and something inside you sank like a heavy cruiser. “A taste of your own medicine.”

a/n: sorry mom

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88

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#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #snow x reader #snow x you #tom blyth #tom blyth x you #tom blyth x reader #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #attention #x reader #x you smut

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solbaby7 · 10 months ago

Text

Nothing Even Matters

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: swearing, probably typos, some angst, mentions of trauma, some fluff

summary: When the only thing you want during your recovery is the very person who put you there in the first place.

[ part one ]

—

“How’s it feel?”

“Fuck you,” You seethe through your teeth, words slurred from the wires holding your jaw shut—only for a few days, they said with remorse but all you could feel was such all-consuming rage. Such intense anger because you couldn’t move your body how you wanted; your arm was stiff in the tight bandaging holding it to your body while the dislocation and fractures healed.

Azriel glanced over at Rhysand who was offering Madja a sheepish smile, hands tucked in his pockets as he stood beside you. “Believe it or not, that was a lot nicer than some of the other words she’s been stringing together.”

“She shouldn’t be talking at all. Healing from a broken jaw is no easy feat—talking before the bone properly sets can lead to us needing to rebreak it all over again.” The heated glare you send her way could’ve killed if they were sharpened swords and Azriel has to step in front of you to ease the stormcloud you were casting above the room. Madja doesn’t seem to mind, urging the spymaster to step aside while she began her assessment. “Follow my finger,” Your eyes narrow with hate but you comply after a beat of time. “Good, no noticeable neurological deficits,” She scribbles something in a notepad, noting down the amount of pain meds you’d been receiving and an update of your vitals. “Your swelling seems to have gone down significantly—does it still hurt when I touch here?”

The High Lord cringes at the stream of profanities that slam at the edge of his mind; an act you’d been subconsciously doing since the moment the tonics for the pain had worn off the first time three days ago. You’d shoved your anguish out as far as it would go, so hard Rhysand had choked on a breath, hands clenching at his sides as he put forth more effort than normal to keep his mental shields up. “She says yes.”

Your hand taps once at Azriel’s arm and when he looks at you, you give him a jerky nod of your head. “She wants to know when she can go home?”

Madja lowers the notebook, voice annoyingly calm and full of understanding; not deterred by your attitude in the slightest. In fact, she seems to expect it, smiling softly before speaking, “Have you been eating?”

Your hand slams down twice on the table before you.

It’s jarring; aggression was never something you’d displayed often, if ever, but Azriel only takes a step closer, nearly sitting on the edge of your cot with an arm wrapped around the back of your pillow.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes.” Madja continues writing, bullet pointing your behavior and way you reel in your snark for the shadowsinger beside you. “Have you been able to get to the bathroom on your own?”

Two more slams against the table but these are much harsher than the first, a cup full of water splashing at the sides and Azriel lets out a sigh. “Not on her own but she’s really close. The dizziness just gets to her when she’s standing for too long.”

Rhysand spares a glance at the towering frame standing in the corner behind them absorbing every word like a child experiencing the world for the first time. Cassian had been unbearably quiet, avoiding Azriel at all costs but he was the first who’d noticed you beginning to stir awake. He’d barely left, always getting caught with a rag and warm water, dragging at your skin gentler than fingertips on flower petals. Rhys had to knock Cass out himself when the med staff came to take you away, advising that the wiring was imperative but the General couldn’t stop screaming about how you’d already been through enough; about how you deserved a full day of peace before putting you through even more pain.

“Any other symptoms besides the dizziness?”

You hesitate, heated gaze faltering for a beat of time before you’re slamming your hand down once and Cassian waits a full thirty seconds; golden eyes boring into Azriel’s back, urging him to mention the nausea, the splitting headaches that had you gripping at the first hand you came in contact with for any sort of comfort.

But, Azriel doesn’t say a thing.

“That’s good, what about—“

“Headaches,” Cassian’s voice is raspy with such little use and he’s more than grateful for the brace preventing you from moving around too much because he’s certain one of those sickeningly sharp glares were being specially crafted with his name on it. “She gets headaches and throws up sometimes because of one of the tonics—it’s orange.”

Madja, ever the professional hums in acknowledgment, scribbling down more notes and a furrow grows at her brow. “Could be an allergy or maybe the mixture is too much on your stomach without solid foods yet,” She not even talking to you, just muttering her thoughts aloud while the others tense; awaiting your reaction. They wait for the ball to drop; wait for the throwing of the first item in sight. It wouldn’t have been the first time and Az’s shadows had gotten surprisingly good at predicting it, darkness darting before the window before you could smash it to pieces since Madja insisted she’d dock any damages from your pay. “Thank you, General, that was quite helpful.”

A full minute passes and still, there’s no yelling; no frustrated grunts or shouting in your mind—just utter silence and you’re too busy settling further into your pillow to notice Rhys’ curious stare.

“If you can manage no talking for seventy-two hours then I will clear you to finish your recovery from home,” You’re nodding before she can finish, Azriel gently pushing you back when you try to sit up in your excitement. “I mean it—I’ll know if you aren’t taking the physical therapy seriously. At least an hour of walking a day ; slowly so you don’t aggravate your ribs and I’ll take off the shoulder wrap if you swear not to do any heavy lifting of any kind.” You throw her a pointed look, a hand waving around to motion at the three men that had been permanently stationed around you.

“We’ll take good care of her.”

Madja exhales a steady breath, hands resting at her sides and way she regards you is nearly motherly; relief settling into her features when she can confidently say you’ll make it. “Then, I suppose you’re free to go.”

—

“Come on she said at least an hour.”

Azriel is a sturdy pillar before you, arms crossed and shadows incessantly tug at the thick duvet you’d been grasping at like your life depended on it since he barged in ten minutes ago. You grunt in disapproval, settling deeper into the mattress and you shield your eyes from the bright light steadily pouring through—even though you remembered closing the curtains last night.

“You’ve already skipped breakfast and lunch; it’s nearly three in the afternoon. Get up.”

Your inability to speak seems to work in your favor because all you offer Az in return is a hand peeking from the covers to flip him off.

A pause and one eye pries open when you hear footsteps retreating. Five minutes pass, then five more before you relax back into the fluffy pillows, dragging the covers up to your chin and a content smile curves at the corner of your mouth for a fraction of a second before your entire body is drenched in freezing cold water.

You lurch from the bed like a creature rising from the dead, feet bare and legs on full display when you slowly stare up at the pleased shadowsinger, eyes wide and arms frozen in surprise as you dripped all over the floor like a wet dog. “Good. Since you’re up and showered, let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat.” Azriel’s looping an arm in your own and leading you out before you even have time to change, sloshing footsteps left in your wake and when you enter the sitting room Mor has to slap a hand over her mouth to hide the laughter.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

It’s harmless teasing; friendly laughs and eyes lined with water when they mention the rats nest atop your head but Cassian’s boisterous laugh doesn’t join in on the fun. He takes one look at you and quietly leaves the room; he'd been doing that a lot since the accident—ever so present when you weren't consious and practically non-existent when you were.

You catch Feyre staring at the bruises on your neck, the thick bandage stuck in place on your temple, how stiff your posture was from the tight wrappings securing your ribs in place and she flushes when you offer her a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear more sturdy than you looked. "Sit, I'll get your food."

Eyes roll at Az's choice of words, easing over to the couch with a low grunt. Food was a sorry excuse for whatever the fuck you'd been sentenced to consume until the wires were removed. A thick porridge like substance with a distinct grit that lingered on your tongue no matter how much water you chased it with.

It was nice to be home though, to sleep in your own bed and being able to ease the tension with a hot bath and a stealthily stolen glass of wine—even if it was impossible to wash your hair or to change your clothes without assistance. Fresh air breezes through the windows, ruffling the curtains and the High Lord is quick to dry your clothes with a wave of his hand. With nothing more than a quick touch to his shoulder in thanks, the others watch you brace your weight against things to get to the hallway, turning left in the same direction Cass had gone earlier.

It’s not hard to find him, cooped up in his room with a glass of amber liquid in hand; eyes trained on the crackling fire. “What are you doing in here?” He’s up in a flash, wings pulled tight behind him and a broad shoulder urges your good arm around his neck, warm hands are careful when lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to the neatly made bed against the wall. Pillows are stacked behind your back to prop you up in a way that didn’t agitate your ribs and you give a sad smile when Cassian’s eyes linger on the bruises that were steadily healing up the length of your legs and he’s carefully covering them in blankets with a shaky breath.

Usually, he’d have sat next to you but now you’re unbearably aware of the distance he puts between you; hands clutched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out to touch. “You eat yet?” A slow shake of your head and Cass lets out a little chuckle in understanding. “Not surprised, that shit’s gross. Az never was that good in the kitchen.”

Everything smells like him; male and musk, cedarwood and bourbon. It’s overwhelming in the best way and years of memories begin to flood your senses; countless late nights spent in here drinking and laughing about nothing. Lazy mornings with breakfast in bed and amused snorts over buttered toast and tea when the Illyrian boasted about his latest conquest or earned accomplishments but then would go sheepish when you’d genuinely told him you were proud of him—happy that he seemed happy.

Cassian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to meet your eye because you were gazing at him so lovingly; not an ounce of hate in sight and guilt bubbles in his belly like curdled milk. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll make you something.”

A few minutes pass of you examining the room before you notice there’s a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and your brows furrow in worry. You’re grabbing it without second thought, shoving the bottle under the bed frame and out of sight before you hear the thudding footsteps coming down the hall and through the doorway. A goblet of a glass is clutched in one hand with a metal straw hanging over the rim; he rambles off some of the fruits he used while he walks over, gently settling it in your hands. Fingers graze and in the blink of an eye he’s already taken three steps worth of space between you but the berry smoothie is a significant upgrade from Azriel’s porridge mixture—little wins. This was sweet but not too sweet, thick enough to quell the rumbling in your stomach and thin enough to push through the gaps in the wires with ease. It’s half gone quicker than you care to admit but Cass seems pleased, yet the small smile he wears is quickly wiped off when you motion for him to sit next to you.

“I can’t.”

Brows scrunch together in silent question, head tilting to the side.

His face crumples, features lined with stress and it’s then you notice just how broken he appears—sure, maybe he didn’t have the bandages and wrappings but the damage was still there. “Look at you, peach,” Tears well at the pet name, your head lowering as if it could possibly hide the ugly bruising on your neck; it was the only spot that seemed to be taking forever to get better, a kaleidoscope of purples and deep blues. “Look what I’ve done to you,” Breath catches and you ache to comfort him when he doesn’t even bother to hold his wings off the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only moves closer when you set the cup down and make way to stand; it’s then he sits near you, urging you back down and you see the way his throat bobs with the thick swallow when your hand gently rests over his own. Words aren’t needed to express how much you didn’t blame him; not anymore—not after the nights he’d spent hunched over your bedside spewing out confessions of his feelings. The unconditional love that never stopping pouring over when it came to you and the shameful jealousy that had followed. Secrets he’d kept in fear that you didn’t return the same affections; terrified to ruin the carefully crafted friendship that took centuries to perfect. To become an extension of the other and adding his feelings seemed messy—too complicated and then all of this. You and the sounds of your cries for help permanently branded at the forefront of his mind for all eternity. Waiting in anticipation for Madja’s updates on your health, how you were fairing and if there was any lasting brain damage; a burden he was fully prepared to bare for you. Willing to sit by your side with his fingers kneeding through your hair to soothe away the headache he knew was coming in from the scrunch of your nose even after being pumped full of pain relievers.

It seems fitting that you can’t voice what you know; the pieces that you’d held onto while stuck in your mind. Body too numb to even pry your eyes open but the hope of hearing it while conscious was a strong enough anchor to have you clawing to the surface—back to Cass and those lazy mornings and tea with entirely too much honey.

He’s a mess when you pull him in closer, brushing your fingers through his hair the same way he’d done for you. You can feel the feather light kisses he presses to the exposed injuries, silent tears dripping on your skin, hushed whispers of his apologies, all the ways he’d planned to do in order make it up to you. All the things he should’ve and would’ve and could’ve done and you have to pry his face from the crease of your neck to make him look you in the eye.

There are no words but the intensity of your stare says plenty and he’s right back where he started; wanting things he shouldn’t and falling back into selfish habits. Leaning into the warmth of your mouth slotting over his own and every bruise and broken bone doesn’t even matter when he’s finally kissing you—soft and tender but all too quick and he’s pulling away before you can memorize the feel of him. “You’re perfect,” Cassian whispers, forehead pressed against your own, hands keeping you close. “I don’t deserve you for a second.”

But you only kiss him again because in that moment nothing else mattered.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar #high lord rhysand #azriel #cassian #cassian x you #cassian fanfic #general of the night court #cassian x reader #cassian acosf #cassian acotar #cassian fluff #cassian fic #best friends to lovers

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bwskj · 3 months ago

Text

Keeping You Safe…

leon kennedy x reader r18 smut:

synopsis | leon kennedy, a government agent ordered to rescue you, keeps you safe while waiting for the storm to die down in an old abandoned cottage.

tags l backstory, rough, intimacy, cream🥧, soft

word count: 6763

fic is mine alone, no repost~

—— enjoy! ——

The sky is dark and thunder echoes from high above. Hands over your ears, you follow the steps of the agent sent to rescue you, jumping every time he shoots or knifes one of the monsters along the way. Uneasy, you take a look behind you, but thankfully there’s nothing and nobody there.

The sound of static pulls you back ahead of you. Leon is holding a talking device close to one side of his face. “Yea, like I have any other choice. I’ll give you an update when I find one.” There’s a pause while the person on the other end replies. No matter how hard you try to pick out the sound, the wind and rustle of leaves overpower the callers voice. “I’ve been doing this job for years. You don’t have to tell me again… Copy that. Condor one out.”

Though shivering and slightly numb, you muster up some strength to close the small distance between you and Leon. “What’s happening?”, you ask.

“Chopper can’t land because of the incoming storm. We’ve gotta find some place to stay and wait. Come on, just stay close behind for now.”

Your stomach twists when you hear this. How long do you have to endure this?! How long do you have to be afraid? You watch as Leon carefully treads the path, hands gripping around his revolver, ready for any enemy. It surely is going to rain soon, you think, as you look up at the sky which seems even darker now than earlier.

Luckily, as the both of you slowly made your way down the path, there weren’t as many monsters needed to be dealt with. They were mostly alone too so Leon was able to easily sneak up to them and stab them in the throat. An old wooden and stone cottage soon entered your sights, and for a second you feel relief. You’ve been running from monsters for a long while. At least you’ll be able to get some rest.

Leon tells you to stand still, and so you do, arms now wrapped around yourself. You watch as he goes around the house, checking to make sure there weren’t any monsters lurking nearby. When he cleared the property, he went up to the front porch. Once again positioning his handgun, he slowly opens the door to check the inside. The moment Leon’s body vanishes in the house, fear starts to bubble up within you. But it isn’t long until the door opens wider and Leon comes out.

“It’s safe. Come in.” He says, gesturing with a nudge of his head.

You don’t wait a second before you’re making your way up the porch and into the cottage. It’s definitely much warmer in here so you loosen the tight grip you have around yourself. There’s a musty smell to it but it’s probably because of the wet wood. There’s a table, a sofa chair, a chimney, a sink, a bed… everything a human would need to live decently, except there was no more human living in it.

“Make yourself at home,” Leon says, waving over to whatever still exists in the house.

“It’s not your home,” you say.

“Well, finders keepers.”

You sigh, which seems to help warm you up even more. Leon’s making some noises again and when you turn to look, he’s busy rummaging through his things on one of the work benches.

Walking over, you peer from behind him and watch as he starts mixing some ingredients together. “What’s that?” You ask.

“Medicinal herbs,” he replies, “If you mix them they become more potent and effective.”

He stuffs the mixed vials back into storage. Then, he takes some other stuff and starts forging them together. “And that?” You can’t help but ask.

Leon huffs a sigh. You think he might be getting annoyed, but he replies, “I’m making more ammo. In case, they get in here.”

You freeze up and from his peripheral, Leon notices. “And for the journey ahead,” he adds, “Don’t worry. I won’t let them hurt you.”

Unfortunately, his words don’t reassure you. Instead your stomach turns even more, now with a growing guilt. You’re helpless, just a maiden in need of rescuing.

“Do you think, maybe, you can give a me a gun to use?”

“Just keep doing your thing, princess. I don’t want to have to worry about being accidentally shot by the one im protecting.”

You grumble a, ‘im not that stupid’, under your breath but secretly you know Leon’s right to worry about that. And, princess? Really? You’re capable of handling yourself, to some extent. Surely, if only your opponent weren’t flesh eating monsters and cultish mutation-obsessed maniacs.

Leon turns to look at you after setting the ammunition he just made down on the table, “You should go get some rest. I’ll be awake so you can rest easy.”

Your eyes lift to look at his face. You’ve never been directly in front of him like this before. It’s also the first time you ever saw him clearly. You already knew he was a handsome man, just from his build alone, but even his face is good looking. Chiseled jaw, tall nose, and with sharp piercing eyes. Silver, almost overgrown, strands of hair frame the sides, which was probably why you never certainly saw his face. You flinch, spotting the still open gashes and scratches on his face.

“You’re hurt,” you start as your hand reaches up to his face. But Leon grabs your wrist, stopping you from going any further.

“I’m fine. I’ll be healed sooner than you think.” He lets go off your arm, but your limb still hangs in the air. Leon brings his attention around the room, looking for something that you can rest on. Again, you watch as he searches through drawers and cupboards until he finds a soft piece of cloth—for sleeping or for the table, you’re not sure.

“You can lay on these,” he points to some rice bags in the corner, “and use this to keep yourself warm,” he hands you the cloth he found.

“Thanks,” you manage to say. The cloth in your hands doesn’t feel as dusty as you thought it would. It’s probably because it was kept shut in a cupboard. Might be even better to hide in a cupboard forever rather than face those monsters again, you think.

You walk over to the pile of empty rice sacks in the corner of the room. Those look dusty. You look back over at Leon but he’s back to being busy with his stuff again. As you crouch down and plop yourself onto the floor by the bags, you start to feel the exhaustion truly set in. Your feet and legs burned in soreness. Your shoulders drooped and your eyelids grew heavy. You lay on the sacks and you aren’t even able to fully cover yourself with the cloth before you fall into a deep sleep.

——

The monsters are heading towards you. And that powerful man, floating, he’s coming from the opposite way. And what are those? More of them screeching with what looks like tentacles sprouting from their heads.

You run, run as you fast as your legs can take you. But they are feeling sore and your heart can’t seem to catch up. You have to run, but you can’t breathe well. As you stumble, you take one look at your arm which terrifies you even more to your wits end. Your veins are turning a deathly black. It’s the mold.

“yn!”

Quickly, your head turns. “Leon!” You cry out.

Where is he? Where’s Leon? Your head feels like it’s spinning as you try to look around the fog and the hoards of scary things coming your way. His voice calling out to you echoes in every direction. You can’t find him.

Until you do, and he appears almost entirely consumed by the same mold as the one creeping up your arm. And all of a sudden, the monsters aren’t right behind you. They’re charging straight towards Leon, running right past you with a speed so quick that wind almost knocks you over. You know that he can no longer run.

“Wait, no! Leon!” Your cry is louder, clearly ringing in your ears this time, and your eyes snap awake. Breathing fast and heavy, your hands try to reach for your face but somebody else’s beat you to it. Leon is sitting next to you with a grip on your arm with one hand while the other is muffling out the sound of your voice.

“Hey, hey, shh it’s a dream. It’s a dream.” Your eyes twitch around until it finds the surprisingly soft gaze in Leon’s own pair as he holds you and your face in his hands.

As you quiet down, Leon slowly removes his hand from over your mouth. You start to gasp and hiccup, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “Leon…” you say and you throw your arms around his neck because you thought he had died just seconds ago. “You’re here.” You try to sniffle up your tears because you don’t want them to fall and wet Leon’s shirt.

“Of course, I’m here.” Leon says, pushing past his surprise at your sudden action of skinship. His arms which hung awhile in the air in hesitation, begin to softly pat and rub your back in an attempt to console you.

You hiccup some more, burying your face into Leon’s shoulder. There’s no way his shirt isn’t getting a little damp. His big hands rubbing on your back feel nice, and you can already feel your heart rate calming down.

“Don’t you ever think about yourself?” You mumble against him.

“What are you talking about?”

“In my dream… you were going to die. You had no chance. You were dead.”

You feel his chest rise and fall beneath you. “That’s not gonna happen. It’s my job to keep you safe until I get you home. I can’t do that if I’m dead.”

You pull your teary face away from his shoulder, looking straight into his determined eyes. Your heart skips a beat, you think. “You’re going to stay alive for the sake of this mission.”

“Yes, I don’t plan on failing any of my missions.”

You chew on the inside of your lip and stare at him before saying, “Promise you won’t die. Or get fatally injured. Or injured at all.”

Leon frowns, wondering where the hell these words are coming from. “I can’t promise that. What i can promise is that I’m going to get you home, no matter at what cost.”

This time it’s you who frowns. He can’t seem to stop thinking about fulfilling his mission and keeping you safe. But what about him? How is he faring with all these wounds and having to worry about himself and you at the same time?

Leon notices your stare spacing out so he knows you’re thinking about something. Are you still not reassured? “Try to get some more rest. The rain hasn’t stopped,” he says.

It’s only now you notice the strong pitter

patter of rain outside. The wind blows as equally intense. “I can’t,” you say, because you’re scared the nightmare will happen again and you’re scared that when you wake up, the nightmare would have come true while you were sleeping.

You stare at your hand that is resting close to Leon’s chest, now only realizing how close the two of you are. It’s been a while with the both of you like this and Leon’s hand is still on your back. Does he have no intention of pulling away? Suddenly, your heart feels warm, not only because of Leon’s body heat creeping over to you but because he most definitely cares. He’s intent on keeping you safe.

“Thank you, Leon… for doing all this.” You position your head on his chest this time. Before he could open his mouth to tell you that it’s his job, you continue, “I know my father paid you to do this, but still… it must be difficult.”

You feel him breathe deep again. “You’re welcome,” he says, and you smile softly to yourself.

For a while, the both of you sit still and close. The rain continues to pour outside but you both can hear each other’s breathing. It’s so calming you can almost forget the nightmare you just had. You take a large breath in; Leon smells like dirt—the good kind. You watch, hypnotized, as your finger draws small imaginary circles on Leon’s shirt. When falling out of the trance, you shift your head up to check on how Leon is doing.

He isn’t looking at you or particularly anywhere. His expression is the same cold one he usually wears, but he appears less guarded and distressed. The cuts on his face are still open but he’s wiped off the dried blood and dirt surrounding them. He huffs out another deep sigh. You lightly frown before saying, “Are you comfortable like this?”

Leon’s gaze flicks over to you. You realize you’re so close to him you can even notice the slight twitch at the front of his brow.

He clears his throat, takes his hand off your back, and moves you off him. “Rest. I should get back to keeping watch.”

He pushes himself off the floor leaving you on the ground. Not even a few seconds of him away from you and you feel a shiver run through you. “Wait, don’t go!” You say, grabbing onto his leg because that’s the farthest you could reach. “Did you not like it?”

Facing you, he looks at your hand grasping his pant leg and then back to your concerned face. “I need to stay alert for our safety.”

Your eyes fall to the ground, but you don’t let go of him just yet. You look at his pants and catch sight of his pockets. “Can’t you just keep watch while you’re beside me. You have a gun in your pocket anyways.”

“Gun? I don’t have any with me right now. They’re all on the workbench.”

Huh? You think, and your head snaps up to look at him… then down to his pockets. That is not a… gun?

“I’ll just be by the door,” Leon says and he starts to move to step away. You’re clinging on strong, however, and you try again, “No! Just bring a gun with you here and stay here. Please, I still don’t feel safe being by myself.”

“I will only be a few feet away,” Leon states, like that isn’t obvious.

“Still…” you mumble, “you know what i mean.”

Leon sighs for the nth time and gives you a disapproving stare before saying, “You’re really a princess, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth to argue but Leon tugs his leg away (apparently you weren’t holding strong enough), grabs a rifle gun and revolver from the workbench, and tosses it on the floor beside you. In seconds, he’s back on the ground with his back leaned on the wall. “Better?” He says with those sharp eyes again.

You feel a blush heat up your cheeks. You didn’t think he’d actually give in… and without much argument. You stayed sitting upright, however. You aren’t sure if you could just resume the position the both of you were in earlier. Leon’s squinting out the window on the opposite end of the room. He sure is keeping watch.

Then a shiver runs up your body again. It must be the rain making the air so cold. You take your makeshift blanket and put it around yourself, eyeing Leon as he grabs his weapons and starts pulling some levers and fitting pieces of metal in.

With him busy, you keep on looking. At first, you were locked on the sight of his arms, a vein peeking out whenever he exerts a certain amount of force. But then your eyes wander and it lingers at the thing you saw in his pants. That isn’t a gun, you remind yourself, and you feel a little bit of warmth wave over you for a second. It’s huge… or is it because he’s wearing tight pants. Something faintly pulses inside you and you bite on your cheek, knowing what it means.

You shiver again. The cold isn’t being fought off. You press your hands together, trying to eliminate the chill in your fingers.

Leon, noticing this, says, “Are you okay?” There he goes being concerned again.

“Yea, just…” your words trail off as Leon puts down his weapons and reaches for your arm under the cloth. His fingers run up and down your arm as he inspects for any sign of mold. You blush as his fingertips tingle on your skin. His hands are quite big too, probably almost twice as big as yours.

He looks up at your face. “Do you feel sick? You’re face is red,” his hand moves to check the temperature on your face. It’s warm alright. He takes your chin and moves your head up and around.

“What are you doing?” You say, finding it a bit too hard to keep a calm composure.

“Just checking,” He says.

He won’t seem to stop pushing your face in different directions, checking on and behind your neck, so you grab to stop his arm.

Something twitches on his face in what seems like surprise. “You’re cold,” he says, and he in turn takes your hand off his arm. He encloses both your hands around his, and almost immediately it warms your fingers up.

How is he so warm? He doesn’t even have a jacket on. “Don’t want you getting hypothermia,” he says, and you feel like scoffing. Great, another way you could die.

Just as he says this, you shiver for the third time, and you wonder if he noticed. Even if he did, he doesn’t say anything and sits still holding your hands in his. A shiver for the fourth time comes by, then, all of a sudden, Leon lets go, and he puts his arm around you to pull you close to him.

“Leon!” You exclaim in surprise.

“Just stay still if you want to warm up,” he says. With one hand wrapped around you rubbing heat, he fixes your blanket, making sure it’s covering you well, over your head, shoulders, and half your face. When he’s done, you’re snuggled up under the cloth and in Leon’s arms. For the first time in a while, you’re so comfortable.

Like this, you feel even more grateful for Leon. It’s like every part of you is warm now: your heart, your face, and your body. Leon’s still soothing you when he asks, “How is this?”

“Better,” you mumble into the cloth hovering over your mouth.

Leon sighs, and you think it sounds like one of relief. This would be the perfect time to fall asleep again, but for some reason your eyes won’t stay closed. Looking off in front of you, your sight is directed towards the floor, and how conveniently (lol) at Leon’s crotch. Is it just you or did it grow even bigger?

After a while more of staring, you come to the assumption that he is… hard. No man just exists with that big of a…

Leon clears his throat, causing u to jolt a little. You shift your head to look up at him. You seem to be looking up at him a lot of the time. The blanket on your head falls out of place.

You make eye contact, but you can’t tell what Leon is thinking. The both of you hold your gaze until it’s been too long and a tension snaps you both out of it. Your eyes fall back down, and you think… maybe, if he would like…

“Leon,” you say, and your hand thats all warmed up peeks out of the cover of your blanket. It hovers lightly somewhere on Leon’s chest. “Could I, maybe, show you how thankful I am?” Your finger lands on his chest, and slowly, cautiously, you start tracing a random path down his torso. His stomach softly rises and falls.

You don’t dare to look up to see Leon’s reaction just yet. But surely he knows what you mean, right? And you know he can stop you if he doesn’t want this.

“Show me?” You hear his voice, low, almost like he’s hesitant to speak.

You get to the end of his shirt, your fingers lightly picking at his belt. The bulge in his pants is only inches away from your touch. Your heart beat is speeding up with every second that passes in which Leon hasn’t pushed you away.

Mustering up courage, you pull your face up to meet his eyes again. Leon is staring back, and you try desperately to tell him what you mean with your own. You notice Leon shift his jaw, exhaling a breath through parted lips. You bite down on your lower lip as you start to feel that pulse again. He still isn’t moving away.

It’s now or never. You push yourself up with the hand on Leon’s belt, and it doesn’t take more than a second for you to lean in and put your lips on his. Your nerves freaking out at what you just did almost makes you yourself pull away but then Leon presses his mouth willingly onto yours and kisses you back.

He’s found a hold on your lower back as the two of you are kissing, the pulse inside growing stronger when you sense Leon’s obvious desire for your lips. His breaths in between every kiss is causing an electric feeling to run across your skin. It’s exciting you more that it really should. Well, this all shouldn’t be happening in the first place, but how can you stop yourself now.

Like Leon magically heard your thoughts, he pulls himself away. You guess it’s because he’s thinking exactly about that. “This,” his chest rises and falls quick as he tries to catch his breath, “We shouldn’t be… your father is not going to like this—“

“Of course he won’t,” you quickly say, “But why would we even tell him.” You don’t want to make it out to be but you’re desperate to feel him again.

“You’re my client.” He says with a frown. Who is he trying to convince?

“No, my dad is your client,” You reply, “I’m… I’m the one you’re trying to keep safe.” You go to hold his face in your hands, meanwhile his stare is still unsure, so you say, “And I need you to make me feel safe… right now.”

You can feel his hand scratching lightly on your back. With the way he was kissing you, he must want this as much as you do.

“You feel unsafe,” he asks but it sounds like a statement.

“Very…” you almost whisper as you slowly lean back in. His hand on your back squeezes you lightly. “So kiss me”

There’s a spark in his eyes before he does, closing the gap in between both your lips. This time his kiss is stronger, as if he doesn’t wish to think about anything else anymore. He pulls you in even closer and his hands feeling you up brings a good shiver up your spine. As the both of you move to respond to one another’s lips, the blanket becomes a bother so Leon rips it away. Your skin is now only separated with the cloth of your fitted blouse.

You try to push yourself closer because he tastes exceptionally good and you want more. When you start to get up on your knees, still kissing him and playing with the hair at the back of his nape, you feel Leon hooking an arm below your thigh to lift you over and on his lap.

“Leon,” you gasp because you’re sitting on him, and you can feel his rock hard dick beneath you.

“Don’t worry,” Leon says as he starts to move his kisses to and under your jawline, “I’ll keep you safe.”

You can’t help but lean your head back so Leon can kiss you even more. Your fingers are intertwined with his silver locks just above his nape. You can’t stop either from starting to shift against him, especially when Leon’s teeth grazes your skin. He knows what he’s doing, you think as you feel yourself flush in warmth, because as aggressive as he was from the start, his touch on you is also gentle and careful.

Leon’s hand slips under the back of your blouse, inching towards the clasp of your bra. It rests on top of it and you anticipate it to come loose, but it doesn’t and you look down at Leon, though all you see is hair.

Thinking he’s wary, you tell him, “You can… take it off.”

That’s all Leon needs to hear and he unclasps your bra with a tug and flick. Cool air seeps onto the skin under your shirt and you don’t even have time to gasp before Leon’s got hold of your breast.

“Ah, Leon,” you say, because Leon’s big hand feels warm and perfect on your cool chest. He squeezes and his mouth on your neck kisses you like he has to make sure he’s got every spot.

You can’t hold back any longer and your intently moving your hips against his big boner. There’s a low growl from Leon and you feel the vibrations of the sound on your skin. He grabs you from behind your neck and puts his lips back on your mouth. When he caresses the surrounding skin around your nipple, a louder moan accidentally slips from your lips. With your mouth opening, Leon takes advantage, trying to kiss deeper and on your tongue.

Noticing that you particularly liked that, Leon continues to play with the center of your breast. You’re breaths grew more ragged the gentler he touched you. When your lips disconnect to take a moment to breathe, you can’t take any more of Leon’s shallow teasing.

Grabbing onto Leon’s wrist under your shirt, you push his hand onto your chest, your nipple sitting in between his 2 longest fingers. “More,” you breath out.

You gasp as Leon listens, touching you there more purposely. Your back straightens as you try to push your chest closer to his hand while your clothed cunt still rubs on his erection. With eyes closed, pleasure courses through your whole body and you can already feel yourself dripping wet in your pants. You want to get them off.

You open your eyes, and look at Leon. His gaze is locked on you while you breathe heavily and rock back and forth on him. Somehow, him looking at you like this made you feel even better, and even when you close your mouth, you can barely stop the moans from sounding out.

“Ha..” Leon exhales, his hand that found it’s way to your waist squeezes the side of your stomach. You only notice now how his own breathing is rough too. He’s definitely feeling good.

“Leon,” you call his name again because just saying it alone feels amazing.

“yn.” hearing your name in that breathy voice of his makes your stomach flip. You feel Leon put pressure on your waist, likely trying to bring you closer to his dick. This is enough to drive you crazy.

“Leon, I can’t,” you say, “I need…” you don’t know how to say it.

“What yn?” Leon lightly puts his face in your neck again. You feel him breathe you in.

“I… I need you inside me,” hearing yourself actually say it out loud felt insane.

Leon exhales, “Take this off?” He runs his finger in between the rim of your pants and your soft tummy skin.

“Mm,” you move to work quickly with your zipper but you can’t get the button out. Leon helps you with that and you kneel up a bit to get your pants off.

“Is it cold?” Leon says as you sit back down, his big hands running over your exposed thighs.

“No, it’s okay.” You kiss him before he could worry even more.

Leon gladly reciprocates, trying to get his tongue in your mouth again. Leon’s hand on your thigh moves it’s way to your front. He softly circles your clit over your wet panties and you moan, feeling more of your juice spill out.

You grind, this time seeking more pleasure from his hand. “More,” you whisper on his lips.

Leon scoffs as he pulls away to look at you. “Needy, princess.” Surprised, you’re about to say something in retort, but then he slips his hand down your panties and his fingers start touching your bare pussy, and you forget what you want to say.

“You’re so wet,” Leon says under his breath. At this point, you think you might actually go crazy. Your moans start to sound more like needy whimpers the more Leon lingers only outside your pussy lips. You push your cunt down onto his hand and he knows you can’t wait any longer.

Leon is immediately able to put two fingers in. You gasp as it shoots right at your g spot. “Ah fuck,” you let out as Leon starts moving his fingers in a circle inside you. Gripping onto his broad shoulders, you steady yourself as he then pulls his fingers out before pushing it up inside you again. As he finger fucks you like this, you can’t control your moans, and you’re quite out of it that you don’t realize Leon focused on your lewd expressions and subtly rubbing himself outside his pants with his free hand.

The longer he fucks you the more you feel your muscles relaxing, and soon, even clenching against his fingers didn’t make you feel as filled up as you like. Your g spot feels good with every thrust of his fingers but you know you need more.

“Leon,” you ride on his fingers and go to kiss his neck this time. “It’s not enough,” you mumble, because you might be starting to feel shy.

“I need you… inside me,” your hand feels behind you until it meets his hand which has been palming his own boner. The cloth on this part is damp from precum.

Leon, alarmed, pulls you off his neck to look at you. “I… don’t have contraception.”

“I don’t care,” you say, and it’s mostly true. How do you tell him it’s even better for you when it’s raw and pounding inside you? How do you tell him you might be fine with risking it just to know how it feels to have his hard and big dick filling you up.

“This isn’t…” Leon starts, and you know he’s trying so hard to hold back.

“Please,” you say, giving him your most persuasive pair of eyes as you start softly palming his hard on in his pants, “Please fuck me.”

“You always get what you want, don’t you.”

You shyly look away because he’s right, being a daughter of a high official, you’re used to things going your way. You’re not that surprised when Leon starts unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You blush as you watch him do so underneath you, flushed as red and as excited.

“I’m going to fuck you then since you want it so bad,” he says and he lifts your body up with one hand, surprising you with how easily he does so, before slipping your panty to the side and positioning his raw cock right at your entrance.

You don’t have time to say anything as he helps you fit his cock inside. You can only gasp and shake when you realize the size and length of what was about to fuck you.

“Fuck,” Leon moans and you say “shit” as well because how the hell does it feel like there’s three fingers inside you. When you push down and his dick hits the end of your pussy, you exclaim and Leon has to put his hand over your mouth again.

“Quiet,” Leon shudders, “They might hear us.”

Suddenly, you remember the reality you are in. You’re not fucking Leon in a safe place. You were just running from mutated monsters hours ago. What would happen if one of them came in here while this was happening? Your heart rate speeds up at the thought, but you can’t keep it there as you get distracted every time Leon’s dick hits deep inside you again.

You continue this slow and steady pace of riding his cock. Just a bit more up and downs and you know you’ll get used to it. You breathe shakily as his thick member stimulates the nerves on your walls.

“You’re squeezing tight,” Leon exhales.

“N-no,” you stutter, “you’re just big.”

“Are you okay?” He asks in between heavy breaths, sweeping a strand of hair away from your face.

You nod, “I’m okay. It… It feels good, Leon.”

Just like you thought, it’s starting to become easier along the way, and before you know it, you were heading towards bouncing up and down his dick. As much as you try to keep your moans down, it was difficult since Leon is filling you even better than you thought he would. Every time you think he’s hit the deepest part, the next stroke goes even deeper. Though after a while, your pace starts to slow down. The position you are in is starting to bother you.

“Leon.”

“Do you need help?” he asks. Can he actually read your mind? You give him a nod and he grabs you by your waist again. “Lean on me,” he tells you. You lean forward wrapping your arms around his neck before kissing him softly.

Leon starts moving on his own, pushing his whole length into you. At first its slow, and you can keep most of your voice down. But he’s gradually speeding up, making sure to not leave any feeling of emptiness in your cunt while also directly hitting your gspot. It must be the position you two are in. The lack of rubber between your parts made Leon’s movements feel smooth and hot. Is this what heaven feels like?

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you mutter under your breath as he fucks you hard while squeezing and spreading your ass apart. It’s so good you can feel your eyes rolling back. It’s so much better than when you ride it on your own. Leon accompanies your moans with soft grunts and sharp exhales of air.

As you feel your muscles clench on his dick, you know you’re going to cum soon. Leon lifts up your shirt and puts his head under, finding your nipple and sucking on it. Caught off guard, you quickly cover your mouth with your own hand, muffling out the sound of a lewd moan.

“Fuck, Leon, I’m gonna cum,” you say in a loud whisper. Picturing in your mind how Leon’s dick pounding inside you would look like pushes you even more to the edge of an orgasm.

Hearing this Leon sucks and kisses on you harder, one hand going under to play with your other breast before going down to press below your stomach. Seconds later, you’re moaning messily into the palm of your hand when you orgasm all over Leon’s lap. As your legs quiver, you grab on tightly to Leon, the pleasure overwhelming you.

“Ha… Leon,” you say. Leon’s face appears from under your shirt, lips a little swollen and hair ruffled up. In what seems like a blink of an eye, Leon picks you up again, this time off his dick. He grabs both your arms with one hand and turns you around, before knocking you over to lay on your hands and knees.

“Hey! L-Leon!” You exclaim, as he pulls your panties down and shoves his cock back inside. “Ah!” You throw an arm over your mouth to shut yourself up.

“That’s right. Be a good girl and stay quiet.” Leon says, looming over you with every new thrust. “I’m not done.”

Just like that, pleasure shoots up through your cunt again. So good you can somehow feel it in your stomach. Your cum made fucking even easier and you can hear the slap of his skin and the clang of his belt against you. ‘Fuckk, Leon’ you drawl against your arm, saliva heavily wetting it.

Leon groans as he grabs on to the back of your neck. At this point, you’re not even sure if he remembers he’s fucking a person. But even if it’s for his own pleasure, you feel like your mind is in a haze. Dizziness passes by the harder he fucks you and you don’t even remember how many times you’ve come in the past 3 minutes. As far as you know, he hasn’t even slept. How does he still have this much energy?! In the back of your mind there’s an intrusive hought that thinks maybe you shouldn’t care anymore. Fuck those monsters. All you want is to let yourself freely express how good you feel.

“Fuck.. ah,” Leons voice is bordering on whimpering. You can feel him getting close by how hot it feels inside your pussy. “Shit.”

“Leon, nghmm… cum inside, please inside..” you’re a mumbling mess.

Leon unsure of what he heard, pulls you up from the floor by a big tug on your hair. He presses your back onto his chest and holds you as he slows his pace a bit.

“What did you say? You want me to cum inside?” Leon says right next to your ear. “Is that what you want? Is that why you were so desperate to be fucked raw? You don’t care what daddy will think, don’t you. You don’t mind if I cum inside and get you pregnant?”

Leon’s sudden and harsh attitude is so unexpected it turns you on drastically and you feel like cumming again. “I-I never…,” he squeezes your breast again as he kisses your shoulder.

Father will understand, you faintly think.

“Yes, Leon, please cum inside. Fill me up. I need it so bad.”

Leon turns you over for another time and lays your back on the floor. He interlocks his fingers with yours and pins your hand down by your head leaning in to kiss you again. You don’t think you’ll ever get sick of this.

Leon’s thrusts speed up back to his usual pace. He’s panting and groaning in between kisses. Eventually, his pleasure intensifies to a point that he cant even properly kiss you anymore. You cup his face with your free hand and look up at the sight of Leon’s flustered and pleasure filled expression.

“Gonna cum,” he says and he presses down on your stomach again. You gasp as whats left of another orgasm flows through you. You make sure to keep your eyes open to watch Leon as he finishes. When he does, his body jerks and he lets out a couple more short moans. You let out one of your own which merges into a sigh as you feel his member twitch inside yours and a warm liquid settles.

Leon slowly pulls himself out and plops down on the floor. He’s catching his breath. Meanwhile, you lay on the ground in a euphoric state, staring off at the ceiling as you feel his ejaculation drip out of you.

All you hear is soft rain from outside when static suddenly enters the air. “Hello, condor one, are you there? I repeat, condor one, do you hear me.”

Leons head flings towards the workbench. Scrambling to his feet and almost losing his balance, he tries to stuff his dick back into his pants before grabbing the talking device that was speaking.

“Yes, I’m here,” he says with a clear of his throat.

“Where have you been?! I’ve been trying to contact you for 30 minutes now!” The caller’s voice is so angry you can hear her from where you’re laying. “Please tell me you still have Blue Lily.”

“Yes, she’s here. We just… had a little trouble, but we’re fine,” the volume of the callers voice fades out, “and i’m fine, thanks for asking by the way,” he continues with a sarcastic tone.

“Okay, got it. We’ll be there as soon as possible… alright! 10 minutes… 7… Condor one out.”

A beep sounds and Leon puts the device down. “Come on, princess. I know you’re tired but aftercare has got to wait. We’ve got to get you out of here.”

——

a/n: thank u for reading! im still getting better at r18 fics so leave ur comments/criticisms <33

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #smut #leon kennedy smut #x reader #x yn #leon resident evil #leon x reader #resident evil smut #oneshot #fanfic

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hees-mine · 11 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬 𝐩𝐭.𝟒

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Synopsis: ⓧ

Warnings: smut, multiple orgasms, cursing, dirty talk, taboo relationship, pet names, sir kink, mentions of oral, unprotected sex.

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, minors do not interact!

WC: 2,299k

I’ll update as regular as possible so please stop leaving messages asking for updates in my inbox please.

⟱⟱⟱

Since you started hooking up with your best friend's dad, your sex life has been amazing, perfect, to be exact. There wasn’t a moment where he left, and you weren’t satisfied.

Being with him was wrong, and you knew it, but he was just so good to you that you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

His touch was addicting. His kisses were like a warm blanket on a cold day, and you could still hear the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear while he fucked you so good before dropping you off at home.

What was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into many times a week, and eventually, you had sex with each other every day behind your friend's back.

You even ditched school, lying to your friend about being sick just so you could have her father all alone to yourself.

And he wasn’t much better off calling into work because there was no way he could calmly get through the day without feeling your pussy around his dick. He’s been craving you since he laid eyes on you, and after getting to feel and taste you, there was no way he could get enough. Saying he was down bad would be an understatement.

“Fuck you’re always so fucking wet for me, princess” It was currently three thirty in the afternoon. Your back was pressed against his couch, legs over his shoulders, while he squeezed the meat of your thighs and rammed his dick into you over and over again.

“Sir, right there, oh god, yes” You gripped the couch for something to ground yourself with because you were losing your mind every time he went balls deep only to pull all the way out, leaving just the tip inside and thrusting forward once again, leaving you breathless as you clenched on his cock.

“Keep squeezing my cock princess feels so fucking tight” his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips as he picked up the pace, loud clapping sounds bouncing off the walls every time his sweaty thighs met yours. “We gotta h-hurry fuck- m-my daughters gonna be home s-soon” You had been going at it for about an hour already. He went down on you, and of course, you returned the favor sucking not one but two orgasms out of his precious dick.

You nodded your head too fucked out to answer as you bit your lip to suppress some of your noises. “Make me cum. Wanna cum on your cock, sir, please.”

“Fuck I got you, princess. Just lay there and take it like the good girl I know you are” he grabbed the armrest above your head, veins protruding from his forearm as his other hand drifted down towards your clit easily finding the sensitive pearl and rubbing soft but effective circles as he effortlessly rolls his hips coaxing out yet another orgasm from you he’d made you cum so many times in just an hour that you lost count but you still needed more and more, and the harsh crunch of your scorching wet walls only proved that to be so. “Gonna cream on this dick yeah?”

“Yes sir,” you moan, your hands holding his abdomen as he buries his cock deeper and deeper, so deep you feel like crying cause he is just that good. There was no other feeling in the world that could even compare to the way he was making you feel. “So good, so deep keep fucking me, sir, just like that fuck” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you could have sworn you were in heaven.

“Princess,” whimpering your nickname, he lowers himself down when he feels his muscles finally starting to give out. He presses his cheek next to yours, licking and flicking his tongue around your ear, nibbling on the lobe before dipping his tongue in the small canal, pleasuring your body in ways you could have never imagined.

He thrusts so effortlessly into your warm cunt, both of you on the brink as he fastens the pace of his thumb on your clit until you see stars.

“I’m g-gonna-sir. I’m cumming!” You shriek, the walls of your pussy, sucking him in so deep, begging for him to drop his load inside you.

“That’s my good little girl,” he rasps in your ear. Just a couple of thrusts later, you feel his thick cock throb against your heat. “Can I cum inside, please?” He knows you’d say yes, but that never stopped him from asking just to make sure it’s what you wanted too.

“Please cum inside. Don’t even have to ask, sir just want your cum in me all the time” You admit you knew it was shameful, but it was true you loved feeling his cream leaking from your hole when he was finished, even when you went home, his creamy white was still staining your swollen pussy lips.

“As you wish, my princess,” he kissed your cheek. Not even two thrusts later, he came inside you. What could he say? Your words had worked him up beyond belief, and he couldn’t wait to cream pie your pussy over and over breed your little tight wet cunt full of his seed. “Hmm fuck! So good princess, give sir a kiss, yeah?” He breathes against your lips kissing you feverishly, his veiny cock pushing all of his cum back inside your pulsing cunt until he collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily. “Let’s stay like this for a while, and then I’ll take you home, okay?” He nuzzles against your chest, listening to your rapid heartbeat.

Before you could protest, his phone rang, causing both of you to jolt up in surprise.

He quickly grabbed it from his jacket, the phone screen showing his daughter's nickname, and he immediately panicked. “Hey, sweetheart,” he answers calmly, even though he feels like he’s going to throw up cause he’s still buried to the hilt and throbbing in your spent cunt.

You couldn’t hear what was being said. You could only see Heeseung’s worried face, which made you worry cause what you feared the most was being caught. “Now? Okay, Daddy will be home soon, okay? Bye, sweetheart, I love you.” he turned to you after hanging up his phone. “She’s gonna be here any minute. I have to take you home,” he pulls out of you reluctantly, quickly grabbing a tissue before the mess leaks down onto the couch.

You both got dressed in a flash. Moments later, he was backing out of his driveway and taking you home. It was comfortably silent in the car, and ten minutes passed before he was driving into your empty driveway to drop you off. “You’re coming over tomorrow, right?” He chews on his lip, worriedly afraid you might not want to come back after nearly getting caught with him.

“Yeah,” you turn to him, a small smile on your lips.

Your answer puts his troubled mind at ease as he returns your smile. “Can I have a little kiss before you go?” He mumbles while playing with a loose thread on the steering wheel.

You lean in, quickly kissing his cheek goodbye.

“No, I mean like this.” he quickly cups your face, leaning over the console to press his lips on yours, tilting his head to find a good rhythm as his nose brushes against yours. “Hmm,” he moans the moment his lips touch yours, and he can already feel himself getting excited from the short but intense make-out session, his hips bucking up to fuck the air, desperately trying to get some type of friction going. “Fuck” he whispers in between kisses, and it’s like you could read his mind as your hand traveled between his legs to press down on his erect dick. “Is anyone home?” He quickly asked.

“Not for a while. Why?” He breaks the kiss, shutting his engine down.

“Cause I need you so bad, please, princess. I'm so fucking hard already,” he begs you, but he doesn’t care how pathetic he looks. All he knows is that he needs to be inside you right now. Hell, he needed to be inside you ever since he pulled out.

“Okay,” you immediately agree. You couldn’t deny you still wanted more, even after those countless orgasms he gave to you back at his house.

You both exited the car, and you quickly led him to your room, where you locked your door and pushed him down on the bed by his shoulders. You straddled his waist, lifting up your skirt so your core could be in direct contact with his leaking bulge.

His hands went to your hips automatically as you ground your panty-covered pussy on his clothed cock. “Yeah, princess, just like that” You wrapped your arms around his neck while rolling your hips, using him as support to ride his dick.

After a while, he could feel the wetness hitting the crotch of his slacks, and he threw his head back, the wet, sticky sensation enough to have him desperately throbbing and dripping large amounts of precum.

“How am I supposed to go home like this, hmm, princess?” He looked down at the sight of his stained slacks. “All covered in your juices. Maybe I should just wear them. Let everyone know that you’re so desperate for cock you couldn’t help but rub your slutty pussy all over my bulge.” You hid your face in his neck, feeling shy from his comment. “It’s true though, right god only knows how many orgasms, and you’re still just shamelessly rutting your cunt on me, such a desperate little thing,” he guides you helping you roll your hips as your lips leave sloppy kissing all over his neck.

“Yes sir,” you whine helplessly, agreeing with him cause it was all true. You couldn’t stop humping against him. Even if you tried, you were just too desperate to feel him. “Please,” you whimper.

“Yeah, little one?” He hums, fingers slowly gliding under your shirt so he can grab your breasts.

You moan from the slight pinch he gives your nipples. “I need to ride your cock, please, sir. I want you stuffed inside me so badly” his cock can’t help but jumps in excitement at your words, and it takes him only two seconds to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down just enough for his hard wet cock to pop out.

He reaches under your skimpy little skirt, pushing your panties to the side. “Up” You raise your hips, and he grabs the base of his cock, guiding it to your soaking entrance as you slowly sink down on his tip. Both of you moan in pure relief after getting the feeling you both had been so desperately craving for. “Good girl,” he said, kissing your neck. “Now bounce on it. Make sir feel real good.” he put his hands behind his head, letting you do all the work.

“Oh god, yes fuck yes,” You create a quick pace from the start, still wet and stretched from earlier when he took you on his couch. “Love your cock so much” You grip the collar of his white dress shirt, bunching the material and sliding down further on his shaft, your toes curling into the mattress as you feel his balls kissing your outer lips when you take him impossibly deep.

“Fuck princess, I’m so close already,” he moans softly. “Look at that.” he lifts your dress up, showing you the white sticky mess on your groin areas.

“Sir!” Your legs grow weak at the sight of him disappearing inside you, not to mention the mess of cum coating his thick base.

He breaths shakily, his nipples growing hard from the stimulation on his cock. “Yeah, princess, I’m here. Just keep riding it just like that. Don’t stop fucking this dick until you cream around it” he moves his other hand from behind his head, one going to your waist while the other sneaks under your skirt to fondle your puffy clit.

Your jaw falls slack, tits bouncing up and down in his face as you give him the best ride of his whole entire life.

The bed squeaks continuously, and he can’t help but smirk, knowing he’s the one that’s got you this excited to the point you can’t stop moaning and slamming your pussy on his cock. “Please cum, sir, please,” you beg, just waiting to feel his cream again, and it’s safe to say you’re addicted to having his cum inside.

“Ah fuc- okay, okay.” he loses himself, turning into putty at your command as he shoots the first rope inside you. “Y/n, please, please, please,” he grits through his teeth, squeezing your soft waist. He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for at this point. All he knows is that he wants to feel all of you, every last inch of you, of your warm pussy cumming on his girth.

Rope after rope follows as he massages your pearl, desperately trying to get you to release with him. “Sir,” you mewl, your knees growing tired as he rubs out an intense orgasm from you. “Love cumming on your cock” Your lips trail his jawline, wet messy kisses staining his cheek as he softly thrust up, pushing his cum back inside you for safekeeping.

He chuckles, completely out of breath, as you both finish nearly back to back. “Kiss me before I have to leave.” You leaned back, showing him a tired smile as he mirrored your appearance, face, sweaty eyes, hazy, and hair a ruffled mess.

“Okay,” you respond, going in for a kiss, and you knew you’d be calling in sick more often because this wouldn’t be the last time.

⟱⟱⟱

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen hyung line #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours

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fangirl-dot-com · 9 months ago

Text

Together or Nothing

Pairing: Vettel-Reader x Carlos Sainz Jr. Genre: Angst/Comfort Summary: Growing up with Carlos, you knew he’d be a special driver. If he asked you to follow him to the end of the world, you’d do it. But when his life in Formula 1 is in jeopardy, how far are you willing to go?

uhhhhhhh - I was inspired and I made an imagine after the complete clown show that was last tuesday. This is an apology imagine because this week is stacked and there might not be a TDITD update in the near future. So I'm feeding you all now. Never thought that my first imagine would be fore Carlos but here we are.

You had heard the rumors. But that’s what they were supposed to be. Just rumors.

Your dad had warned you that something big was going to be announced, but you never thought it would be this.

Well, some rumors can turn out to be true. Your mind was swirling with thoughts as you looked at your screen. Photoshopped pictures of Lewis in red was all that you saw. Conformations, hot-takes, and edits began to follow. People praised the prancing horse for securing the 7-time world champion. Podcast hosts immediately took to talking about how Lewis would be the best teammate for Charles. Everyone seemed honed in on the two drivers.

Yet, all you could think about was Carlos.

Carlos who had given his all to the Rosso Corsa team.

Carlos who was the only non-Red Bull winner in 2023.

Carlos who bled the Ferrari red, even sometimes more than their Il Predestinato.

Carlos who was slowly becoming forgotten in a matter of minutes.

Your heart ached for your friend as you read his short and blunt statement on his Instagram story. You could almost feel the sadness through the minimal words.

Your fingers flew to your messages as you messaged Charles. The Monegasque had known for a while, but had tried to get the Spaniard another contract. He knew that Carlos was one of the better drivers on the grid and disagreed with Ferrari’s decision.

You knew that Charles had so much respect for Lewis. Hell, everyone did. You don’t just equal Michael Schumacher’s championships every day. No one has even come close to it. Yes, Max was well on his way, but nothing was ever certain in the world of Formula 1.

Charles even complained about how he might not be number 2 driver in a team that didn’t believe in “driver priority.” Years of experience and 7 World Champions would definitely give someone the upper hand.

Swiping out of the messages with Chares, you brought up Carlos’s contact.

Your finger hovered over the message icon and then switched to call, then back to messages before you swiped out of his contact completely.

You fingers went to a different contact. You knew it was a hard decision, and it would take a lot of convincing, but you were determined.

Strict words were flown between you and your father. Having ties with a specific car manufacturer got you places, but this was in the wind. No one had asked for something this big – except you.

After the begging and borderline crying, you ended the call. Exhaustion was creeping up on you, but you had more things to do.

Once again, you clicked on Charles’s profile and pressed the call button.

“Hello y/n,” Charles’s voice echoed through the speaker.

You sighed. “How is he?”

Charles mirrored your initial sound. “He won’t pick up. I’ve tried texting, but he’s leaving me on read.”

You nibbled on your lips. “Have you called Lando?”

“He’s on his way here. He was in Woking for the suit fitting and debut.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Can you send me his flight info if you have it? When he gets in, I’ll pick you up, then him. We can all three go see…”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

An annoyed sound left your lips as you raised your voice. “Charles, be for real. If we’re honest, he bleeds red more than you do. He needs us. Needs his friends.”

There was silence for a bit, until Charles spoke up.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Sending you the information now.”

With a couple more thank-you’s and apologies, you hung up.

Lando was supposed to land later that evening and everything was in place.

A couple of hours later, Lando was in the back seat of your car with Charles in the passenger. The three of you sat in silence as you drove to Carlos’s place in Monaco. Lando was the first to speak up.

“So what’s the plan. I know you Y/n and if you haven’t made a call yet somewhere then you’re have no plan and this is just pointless.”

You rolled your eyes as Charles stared at you, waiting for some good news.

“I made a call to dad. He says he’ll get the ball rolling. We’ll know by tomorrow if they go ahead with it.”

Charles leaned in and adjusted himself in the seat. “And who is they?”

You hushed him. “A girl never spoils her secrets.”

Not long after, your car finally made it to his place. The lights were on, which was a good sign.

Carlos was home.

You swallowed thickly as you made your way up the stairs. Your hand lifted and knocked on the door. Charles and Lando were right behind you.

It took a couple of minutes for Carlos to open the door, but he eventually did. The sight was almost unbearable.

His normally kept hair was sticking up in different places. His cheeks were red, along with his nose.

He had been crying no doubt.

He looked tired as he slouched at the door, but straightened up when his eyes landed on you. They held a certain softness as he gazed at your face. But the softness hardened at the sight of the other two drivers. He opened his mouth to talk, but you raised a hand.

“They’re here for you Carlos. Please listen,” you pleaded, hand now resting on his chest. He looked down and then nodded, moving to let them in.

The three of you followed him in. You were half expecting things to be thrown everywhere and broken. Yet, the house seemed to be in perfect shape. He led you to the living room and sat on a chair.

You, Lando, and Charles all squeezed onto the couch in front.

A comment about school children and their principal wanted to leave your lips, but you held it back.

The Spaniard sat in silence as he waited for someone to talk first.

Charles inhaled sharply. His voice cracked the first time he tried to say something, but he persisted.

“I didn’t want it to be like this.”

When Charles finally looked up, Carlos could see the tears in the Monegasque’s eyes.

“I tried,” he swallowed, “I tried to get them to keep you on. Even tried to have them do an open ended contract like mine.”

Carlos spoke up. “Yet, you have said that you’d want Lewis as a teammate.”

Charles looked down again, almost ashamed.

“I half-handedly said that, and you know it. If you were asked you probably wouldn’t have said my name either.”

Carlos looked down at his hands. Charles was right.

He got up from the couch and crouched in front of Carlos, so they could be on eye level. Charles put his hand on Carlos’s shoulder.

“Together or nothing, right?”

Carlos nodded silently as he brought the brunet into a hug. The two men shed some tears as they hugged.

You knew how hard it was going to be on the Spaniard.

He often said that his one downfall was to love and love too quickly.

Lando was truly his first favorite teammate with Charles coming at a close second. He got too attached in a sport that was famous for their driver swaps.

Moving from McLaren to Ferrari had almost crushed his and Lando’s friendship. It took them months to be able to hang out without sadness hovering over their heads.

Now, Carlos was determined to not let that happen to him and Charles. Lando also wouldn’t let it happen, and neither were you.

The three of you stayed for a little longer, with you being invited to stay the night. Your hand was pushing against Lando’s face as he made kissy noises as he walked out the door. Your keys had been given to Charles with the promise that he’d keep your car safe.

That night, you held Carlos as he cried and cried. And when you thought he was done, he’d cry some more. You ended up not telling him about your plan, simply because you didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Yes, in the morning, you were being shaken awake by the Spaniard. His phone was shoved right in your face.

“Is this real?” he questioned, voice cracking with emotion.

There on his phone was the official announcement.

“PORSCHE OUTBIDS AUDI FOR THE 2026 SPOT IN FORMULA 1”

“EX-DRIVER SEBASTIAN VETTEL TO BE PORSCHE’S TEAM PRINCIPAL IN 2026”

“Y/N VETTEL TO BE RACE ENGINEER FOR NUMBER ONE DRIVER IN 2026”

“PORSCHE SECURED NUMBER ONE SEAT AND CONTRACT FOR SAINZ JR 2026”

The large headlines were giving you a headache, so you simply smiled and closed your eyes.

“Surprise,” you said, sing-singly and sleepy.

Carlos just looked at you and you could feel his eyes on your figure. You peaked out at him before sighing, tugging the comforter down as you sat up.

“If you don’t want it…”

“I want it.”

You shivered at the bluntness in his voice.

He looked from you, down to his phone, then back to you. “You did this?”

You nodded shyly as you leaned in closer.

“I know you and Charles have your own ‘together or nothing,’ but I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if it were possible Carlos.”

You waited for him to say something. Yet, he never did. He did something better though.

He kissed you.

“Together or nothing, mi Corazón.”

carlossainz55 has posted

carlossainz55 to my heart, I cannot thank you enough. you've given me the second chance that I didn't know I had. Together or nothing. Te quiero

liked by charles_leclerc, porschef1, y/n.vettel, and 104,204 others

smooth_operator I'M NOT CRYING YOURE CRYING

vamoscarlos the way I could see y/n convincing her dad to get Porsche to outbid Audi

carlos55 like he could have had a chance with Audi, but y/n wanted to make sure he had an actual seat. can Carlos fight?

charlos4ever I refuse to change my username - did you see them in the joint interview??

charles16 I know right? they looked like the old Carlos and Charles - y/n or seb must have done something carlando betting that they put them both in timeout or the get along shirt

charles_leclerc let's do our very best this season. and always remember that I'll only be a garage down :)

carlossainz55 cabron, did you think that I was leaving leaving?? landonorris he was crying when he called me after you posted y/n.vettel and that was after he called my dad too charles_leclerc IN EVERY UNIVERSE FROM THIS AUTHOR I GET BULLIED FOR CRYING author is it true tho??? charles_leclerc yes.

porschef1 we know it's a season away but we can't wait for for what 2025 brings!

sebastianvettel you better keep my daughter happy or you'll loose a second seat in two seasons

carlossainz55 yes sir

carlos_vettel the way he looks at her in the first picture...when's the wedding??

y/n_sainz all I'm thinking is who is going to take what last name (please hyphenate)

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr

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reverieblondie · 1 year ago

Text

Be Sweet to Me

Chapter 1

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: None for this chapter, but there will be eventual smut, Pining, and teasing. For now- Fluff and Miguel struggles with grumpiness and realizing his touched started, but he's just over worked. Alternating POVs

Summary: People say many things about you're co-worker, and sure he's not the most social but you won't give up being friends with him! Little do you know Miguel is juggling so much in his life, and getting used to you is proving to be more difficult than he thought.

A/N: I am so excited to be finally be making this series! The Alternating pov's is different than what I normal do, but I think it works best for this story! This is heavily influenced by the song Be Sweet by Japanese Breakfast. Unsure how many chapters this will be, so look out for updates! if you would like to be tagged please comment to let me know!

Word count: 3,447

Part 2

“Y/n, I need you to organize the samples and make sure that all the documents are in order before the meeting.”

Giving a slight huff you stop your work, turning on your heels to face your coworker.

“Okay, but what's the magic word?” you playfully tease with the slightest hint of condensation.

Turning his head you see the unenthused glare in his eyes despite them being shaded behind the round tinted glass. You're still not fully convinced he needs those things inside, some kind of light sensitivity he's explained once but you suspect he might just like the cool guy aesthetic it gives him. Though you wouldn’t blame him if that was truly the case, it does look kinda cool.

Face scrunched in that way you have gotten used to seeing over these past few months since working here at Alchemax. Chiseled jaw clenched shut, his full lips pressed in that iconic frown, thick brown hair styled back to try and tame the unruly waves, and tall bulky figure that you used to be intimidated by, (okay, sometimes you still are) but you have slowly adjusted to your co-worker: Miguel O’Hara.

He stared at you for a beat before turning back to his work without another word, his oh-so-subtle way of telling you to shut it and do as you're told. “Alright alright, I’ll get it done. Don’t have to tell me twice.”

One thing you have learned about working with Miguel is he may not always speak with words so if you want to create an effective work area with him you have got to be good at reading his expressions. Working with a guy like Miguel had its challenges, for one his mood: he's not exactly the easiest to get along with, and people call him cold or cocky depending on the day.

Then there was how busy he kept himself, always working on something, typing on screens, working with experiments, or tapping away at that clunky watch of his. Even on the days he’s not around due to him ‘working from home’ you can tell just by his face that he hadn’t given himself time to rest. What on earth could keep a man so busy? Well…you had an idea or two…

Despite his grumpy demeanor you were determined to become friends with Miguel. It didn’t matter what others would tell you about him or how much he distanced himself, you saw the subtle glances, the repressing of smiles, the slight cracks in the shell, You two would become buddies you were sure of it. Maybe he just needed someone to show him the effort, to be sweet to him, then maybe he could lighten up and bring his walls down.

Pulling out all the stops nothing was going to stop your attempts, you were always nice (even on days where that was particularly hard) Helping with things he didn’t ask of you, organizing and cleaning up behind him. Coffee was always a winner, you knew exactly how he liked it too, you kept making different attempts then stopped on the one where he wasn’t making a face while he took his first sip. -Success!

Then there was the friendly encouragement, pats on the shoulder, and high fives. Sure he seemed hesitant to them at first but he slowly became used to them, baby steps.

Every passing day was closer and closer to your friendship blossoming!

Magic word…was she serious? Why should he say please? It's her job to listen to what he tells her and do what he says considering he’s worked here longer. Miguel keeps typing away at his computer, lamenting in his mind how his co-worker was quite the character.

Miguel couldn’t deny that having a co-worker who was tasked to help him in all his research did help him out more than he would ever admit. Having to juggle the secret identity of Spider-Man, being the leader of the spider society protecting the multiverse, and having to keep his role as head geneticist in Alchemax. Everything could get taxing very quickly on him. Layla was a great AI assistant but she was limited, so having an actual person tagging along to help him with work was bearable, though…you were a bit exuberant and that was taking some getting used to.

The jokes, the odd habits, your clumsiness, the smart remarks you mumbled under your breath, your overwhelming friendliness. All this he could begrudgingly handle, but the thing that was still overwhelming him was the touching! Sometimes it wasn’t even touching at all you would just be so close.

First noticing it when you would stand so close that he would accidentally bump into you, if he was looking at a sample you were leaning over him to watch. You had no spatial awareness, running into him, running into things! The first month of you working here you broke so many things by running into them he thought they would run out of beakers.

Then the friendly gestures started happening. Miguel was used to people keeping their distance, meeting his gruffness, but you…oh no…you must have seen it has some challenge! The encouraging words, patting of his shoulder, spontaneous high fives, squeezing past him in tight areas, adjusting his coat for him, dusting off crumbs from his chest! Your Friendly proximity made him tense, it was…new and different, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Though it could be worse, you could be a completely useless idiot. To Miguel’s surprise you did have a brain in that head of yours, so the trade-off for actual decent help was some playfulness from you he would just deal. It’s not like he wasn’t used to playful coworkers, the spider society made sure of that. Still, you were different…and that blossoming tingling your touch would leave on him…it was…annoying.

Miguel's eyes move over to you as he watches you begin the task of organizing the samples and getting everything prepared for the meeting. Begrudgingly he was tasked with having to explain the recent studies and developments the two of you had made. The meeting was honestly bullshit, he hated having to report to the chairman, but they liked to keep a thumb on Miguel, making sure he was still their best brain. In fact, you had offered to take over and run over the presentation for Miguel but they denied that, had to be him…bastards

For a moment you turn your head and look towards Miguel meeting his eyes, you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, that friendliness still shining through. With an annoyed huff, he turns away getting back to his work. Still adjusting…

The two of you worked diligently for a couple of hours, in silence of course, there was no time to get distracted with chatting when so much needed to be done. Rubbing his hands over his face he could feel a wave of extortion taking over him. Sleep was something he wasn’t getting regularly, there was just never enough time in the day so sacrifices must be made.

Eyes growing heavy and vision slightly blurring he feels himself slipping, but he can’t, he won't. Then a shrill alarm begins to blare from Miguel's wrist snapping him back awake. Miguel is quick to place his hand over his watch and sneak out of the lab unnoticed, lucky for him you were too concentrated on your work to notice his absence. Checking the message on his watch, it is a local emergency, something he can handle in fifteen minutes tops. With a quick few cracks of his neck, he's leaving to save the city again.

Stretching feeling accomplished in yourself getting everything prepped single-handedly. Roaming your eyes around the lab you note the lack of bulk in the room. Huh, no Miguel? He must have done one of his disappearing acts again, probably just going to lunch without you. Invite yourself to lunch with him one time and now he doesn't even tell you when he's going. Matters on that guy, oh well, you might as well go get something before the meeting anyway. Coming to a stopping point you gather your things for a nice quick bite in the cafeteria.

“I can’t see how you can work with him.” Ah, so much for a nice quick bite…

Sitting there trying to enjoy your lunch it’s the usual suspects who come to sit next to you, talking more at you and around you rather than to you. You can’t help but think that this annoying tinge you feel is what Miguel felt when he was ambushed by you. Though you couldn’t have been as annoying as these people. Complainy and gossipy types are not the best combos with your meal.

Their subjects range from many topics like complaining about work, to failed experiments, personal problems, idol gossip, then it lands to the one directly aimed at you…Miguel. As soon as the question is asked you're looking up from your food to see all eyes on you. Chewing quickly and swallowing to ask your question.

“I’m sorry what?”

Sophia groans, “O’Hara, how can you work with him?”

“Uh, well he does his thing, I do mine?”

Julius chimes in “Isn’t he a total dick to you though?”

Cassidy is now giving her input to the topic, “Oh I can only imagine what you go through on the daily.”

“Well ac-” trying to interject, you can’t even get a word in till you're being cut off by one of them.

“Yeah! Like I bet he is always bossing you around.”

“And probably insulting you in some way,”

“One time he called my team brainless idiots because we messed up one small thing” -it was not a small thing, that took you and him an all-nighter to fix…

“That was-” you try again only to be cut off once more.

“Oh, and he is always being rude!”

“God, how can you work with that monster!”

With that last comment you had it, the noise wasn’t meant to be as forceful as it came out but they kept cutting you off and then bad-talking your research partner, you were fed up. Slamming your hands on the table with a hash slap, effectively silencing them, you rise from your seat grabbing your tray in the process.

“If you have issues with him you should speak to him like he’s a person. He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance... I've lost my appetite, excuse me…”

With that, your lunch break was over.

“Spider-Man!”

“You saved us!”

“He’s a hero!”

“But…he’s kinda a jerk…”

“Didn’t he punch an old lady before?”

“I thought she punched him?”

Uhhgg…would anyone ever get that story right? Miguel is prying the last bus hostage off him as they cling tightly to him. The vulture from his dimension was up to his usual antics but he made quick work of him and was now cleaning up the shocking mess. Having to save the people from the bus was no big deal, it was the pushy reporters, camera lights flickering in his face and the clingy person keeping themselves pressed to him that was the pain to deal with. Taking deep breaths he’s trying to keep his cool, but he can feel himself threatening to boil over.

How come he can’t just ever save people and leave? Why was there always this extra crap to deal with? Finally getting the person off and seeing that all of what he could do was done he's trying to get out of there, but people can be so pushy…

Questions, Comments, Flashing lights, Praise, Criticism…he couldn’t help but snap,

“Get out of my way! Leave me alone! And for shock's sake, try to learn to protect yourselves!”

The crowd was shocked by this sudden outburst, but this should have come as no surprise from the grouchy hero. Spider-Mans in other dimensions were always known for being friendly, witty, funny, and nice to all they saved, Miguel didn’t exactly follow this blueprint. Miguel didn’t exactly mean to sound rude, just being a hero gets exhausting and patience was something he needed to work on.

Miguel hears the gasp and murmurs amongst themselves about how he’s a dick, a jerk, arrogant, blah, blah…

Rolling his eyes, hidden underneath his mask he couldn't help but think of how irrational these people could be, say one thing the public wasn’t fond of and they are at your throat. It’s all of a sudden no longer how he just saved a busload of people, or saved the city by defeating a villain; No, now it’s about how rude he was.

“Jerk!”

“Boo!”

“I hate you Spider-man!” -great…this just makes everything so much better with this thankless job.

Swing off before the police come to further irritate him. As he swings back to Alchemax he’s wrapped up in his thoughts. This hero thing was not easy…everything he did wasn’t right, not what people wanted…he was always messing up in some way…nothing was ever good enough, he had to stretch himself thinner and thinner, keeping everything together. The pressure is immense…

Getting back to Alchemax, he changes and tries to resume back to his work, the fight had successfully woken him up but now he’s starving. Eating like sleep has also become a thing he has had to cut for the sake of time, but something quick should be fine before he gets back to work.

Stopping by the cafeteria Miguel immediately spots you sat by Sophia, Julius, and Cassidy, not good company for you to keep. Well honestly anyone, they might catch their stupid. Making sure to be as unnoticed as possible last thing he needs is you trying to wave him over to your table. Coffee with a bagel is all he needs to grab so he can make his escape back to the lab. Grabbing a coffee that thankfully wasn't made by you, his sensitive ears can’t help but catch what's being said at your table. No surprise it’s about him.

Listening in he is catching fragments of the conversation sipping his coffee trying his best to ignore the meaningless conversation, till a remark of him makes him pause at the threshold of the entryway.

“How can you work with that monster!”

Monster…huh…is that how people see him? Mutated, sure, grouchy, and tempestuous maybe, But a monster. A ping in his chest makes his hands tighten around the cup. Talons threatens to poke through but he resists. If they want to see him as a monster then so be it…he doesn't care…

Suddenly, a slam, followed by your familiar voice catches him by surprise,

“He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance”

“Not some monster…” Your words can’t be helped from echoing through his head. You sound so angry, you never sound angry. Looking over he sees your face furrowed in a glare. He didn’t think your face knew how to do that. Watching as you walk away in a haste away from the table he's leaving to his usual eating spot hidden away from others.

Taking his shades off in the empty break room he dims the lights down as he sinks into one of the chairs. Finally getting even a moment of a break, even taking time to peacefully relax he finds he is unable to. Even sitting leaning back he still feels teased, irritated, stressed. Trying to shut his mind for even a moment, a second of a break he finds it to be an impossible task. But as he sits, his usual stresses fade to be replaced by your words. Miguel could have cared less about what those idiots had to say about him. The surprising thing was that you were defending him…not that he needed it… but it was…kind of you…

Taking a bite out of the bland bagel he groans to himself, annoyed.

It's almost time for the meeting and you're pacing outside the doors with everything ready to go, except you haven’t seen Miguel anywhere. Running behind is a thing you are not used to from him, he’s usually so timely but you haven’t seen him at all since he left for what you thought was lunch. Did he get caught up doing something else?

Minutes tick by and you're growing more anxious by the second. Would he just not show up? It’s a possibility, but he would be putting both your asses on the line, though he didn’t have to worry much about that, they wouldn’t fire their best brain, but…you're a bit more expendable.

Before you can continue thinking about your ass being on the chopping block Miguel is rounding the corner adjusting his coat and walking in a casual strut. Looking at him as he approaches you notice his appearance looks a bit different. That shirt does seem a bit wrinkled and his tie is completely messed up from earlier. What has he been doing? Mid-day workout? Did he have an accident in the lab and have to go change? But the clothes are the same, just wrinkled.

Or was he doing something else… Thinking for a moment over what you could be doing that would cause messed up clothes an image of a sweaty grunting Miguel pops into your brain. Pushing down the thought with an internal slap to yourself you decide to greet him as friendly as possible.

“You're running behind Miguel” -okay you can’t help but tease him a bit. Friends rass each other all the time.

“Yeah, got…caught up in something…” he speaks hesitantly, suspicious…

Miguel gets ready to go inside but you quickly grab him by the shoulder to get his attention “Hold on there, you can’t go in there looking like that”

Turning to face you, he looks at you confused then looks down at himself, “What? I look fine.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and point to his chest where his tie is haphazardly knotted together in a rushed fashion.

“Your tie” Before he can protest your hands are already getting to work losing his tie gently, “Let me help you”

With the silk tie undone hanging down his chest, you're moving your hands to raise his collar. As you concentrate on the task your eyes are fixed on his neck you observe that as your fingers slightly brush over his warm skin his body teases slightly. Straightening his neck, you know he’s about to say something.

“Why are you nice to me? I know what others say about me, so how come? Are you trying to pity me?” His voice is stern and this isn’t what you were expecting out of him right now. Did he hear you earlier?

The slight laugh that escapes you couldn’t be helped. Moving your hands you cross the two ends to tie in a classic Windsor knot. “Leave it to you to think someone being nice to you is just a ruse to pity you. I just want to be nice to you.”

Remaining silent you continue to loop and twist the tie, your knuckles blushing over him, you swear you see his skin pickle up for a moment with a slight shiver. Finishing up, you tighten it to his neck and carefully fold his collar back down, keeping your eyes on your work at hand, you watch as his Adam's apple slightly bobs as you adjust it properly.

Sliding your hands to the silk tie you brush your fingers down the soft fabric straightening it while laying down flat against his chest. The feeling of his chest tightness under your fingertips and his breath seems to be slightly slow, you don’t know if he is hating this or being relaxed by it.

Meeting his eyes, they are unshaded for you to observe their burgundy hue. His face is still stern looking but you know this one has that slight softness in his eyes, meaning his listening, he is waiting for you to speak again.

“I want us to be friends, simple”

Miguel's lips slightly part as if he was about to speak, but before he could the conference room doors opened with them calling Miguel in. Turning to you there is a look on his face you're not completely used to, but that will have to wait for now. Giving a quick pat to his chest you smile up at him.

“You got this Miguel, good luck.”

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osamucide · 2 months ago

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DAZAI HCS! ⊹

LAST UPDATE: OCT 10

cw: talk of mental illness and substance use/abuse, speculation about Dazai’s f’ed up past+trauma, Dazai-typical references to suicide, references to self harm, probably a lot of projection on the author’s part

reid: i feel like yapping about Dazai tonight so here’s a non-exhaustive list of general headcanons i have about him. no word count because i’ll probably update this periodically lol

he does not listen to music from this century. he just doesn’t. not that he goes out of his way not to, he’s just drawn to a certain sound that only older music seems to have—I think The Smiths, Blondie, Tears For Fears, The Smashing Pumpkins, King Crimson, and Led Zeppelin are among his favorite artists

I think he also really enjoys classic jazz/blues/bebop music—Charles Mingus, Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, etc.

he’s anemic. I’m of the firm belief that Kunikida buys him a 100 ct bottle of iron tablets every 100 days which Dazai always graciously accepts. however, he only actually takes them when he gives enough of a shit to (which is not often) so the bottles are just accumulating on his bathroom sink/in the cupboard beneath

nail biter, cuticle picker, hair twirler, thigh bouncer, etc. I don’t think he really sits still unless it’s absolutely necessary

children love him, much to his dismay. they think he’s entertaining. he thinks they’re like puppies (and he canonically hates dogs). he won’t treat them badly, but he’s just not super interested in interacting with them. unwilling older brother vibe when faced with them. shithead kids can stoke his rage much faster than Chuuya ever could

he cannot take care of a fucking plant. has one succulent in his apartment. it’s surviving out of pure unadulterated spite. he hasn’t watered it in over a year

wearer of funky socks. his favorites are either the ones that say "I love my job ha ha just kidding" or the custom ones Yosano got him as a gag gift one year for white elephant at the office christmas party (they have Kunikida’s rage face on them)

really sad that, despite his criminal record being scrubbed clean, he is still banned from driving in the nation of Japan for the rest of his life because he wants a Ford Explorer so bad

PROFOUNDLY SOUND KNOWLEDGE OF MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY

he’s fluent in Japanese and English, proficient in French and Italian, and learning Russian

I think he also enjoys learning math/researching random shit/reading anything he can in his free time when he feels up to it. he never received a formal education and his IQ is through the roof—his yearning for academia is almost like an itch he has to scratch every once in a while. also, he just likes knowing things

he never learned how to ride a bike. wahhhh wahh

BPD king. look at him. my beautiful princess with a disorder. I doubt he’s diagnosed but he strongly suspects it seeing as he’s so self-aware; if not borderline, he just assumes he has severe PTSD. either way, he really won’t do anything other than what he already knows about how to manage it

along the same lines—he’s been a functional alcoholic since an alarmingly young age (I’m talking 16-17). I think it probably got a lot worse post-defection when he was underground, but he hardly had to function then anyway; he gets somewhat better after joining the Agency but still has a dependence, it’s just not severe enough to debilitate him

has a bin of art supplies in his apartment. he only ever pulls them out once every few months, but he rather enjoys painting and wouldn’t mind getting better at it

master at darts. don’t take him to a bar where there’s a dartboard. he will stand in front of it all night and obliterate everyone who challenges him

insatiable sweet tooth. he especially loves anything maple, butter pecan, or butterscotch he’s a grandpa

UPDATE.1

I love to headcanon that he has a glass eye!!! and that the bandages around his head in the dark era were some legitimate injury. he likes to pop it out as a party trick/to weird Kunikida out

he feeds the stray cats and kittens that linger around the ADA dorms. he probably spends some of his grocery money on the fancy wet canned food and leaves it out with a big plastic bowl of water. sometimes sits and watches them eat and likes to give them little scratches if they trust him enough to come rub up on his legs. they’re sort of to him as the orphans were to Odasaku, and it makes him feel closer to his deceased friend

on the note of grocery shopping—he only goes when Atsushi or Kunikida drag him along. keeps his list relatively the same from trip to trip: canned crab, cigarettes, bandages, a few cases of beer, sake, instant ramen, ice cream (particularly butter pecan), paper towels, and 3-in-1 shampoo when he needs it. Kunikida forces vegetables upon him (“put it in the ramen so you don’t die of heart disease”) but they almost always end up rotting to mush in his fridge. he steals his toilet paper from the ADA bathrooms/supply closets or bothers Atsushi and Kyoka for spare rolls when he’s out

religiously orders drinks from the cafe on his way in and out of work. on mornings he usually gets a latte with plenty of sugar and some sort of flavor; in the evenings he probably gets an iced flavored tea to mix or chase his sake with when he gets home

always has a pocket knife on him. probably one he got in his mafia days, or, it’s at least a habit/security he picked up from then

takes a lot of night walks. he doesn’t sleep well, so I think he probably wanders out tipsy with his pack of cigarettes in the wee hours of the morning and scuttles around to tire himself out

UPDATE.2

two words: medical trauma. I know some people get iffy when it comes to speculation about what Mori did/didn’t/may/may not have subjected him too as a young teenager (and believe me I have a lot of thoughts) but I definitely headcanon that Dazai was used as a little bit of a lab rat/sedated and coerced to some degree when it came to turning him into a killing machine. as a result, he’s got a fear of medical settings. after his surgery during the cannibalism arc? I know he got that phone back and was like “Tanizaki get me out of here right neow”

I think sweet little old ladies probably love him and he loves them too. always feels like he strikes up the best small talk with them. will help load groceries into their cars for them. he gets all smiley and stuff when they call him “sweetheart” “honey” “dear” or remark how handsome he is and about his hypothetical girlfriend must be so lucky

he can throw knives with pinpoint accuracy from a pretty impressive distance. he’s a little less accurate with his handgun at long range/with moving targets but HE’S GETTING BETTER

has like a 3.5 ft vertical jump at his best. like why are you a detective when the Lakers need a center

#bsd dazai #bsd osamu dazai #dazai hcs #dazai headcanons #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #reid speaks.ᐟ #with love—reid

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asktehkoopz · 2 months ago

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HAPPY 10TH ANNIVERSARY TO ME! 🥳

What a crazy decade it’s been, too! I’ve met a lot of good friends, people I still talk with daily and hang out with in person to this day! Despite things not being perfect in the Nintendask community (as I learned much later, haha, I kept in my lane), I still personally cherish the years I spent making art for this blog. It was my passion project for a while, but unfortunately it slowly drifted away from my grasp.

I can’t say if I’ll ever update with the tenacity that I once did. In fact, I can almost guarantee I won’t, but I like being able to come back here every once in a while to drop some new art sometimes. :]

I had a lot of big swings that I wanted to do in regards to the koopz’s arcs, some MUCH more fleshed out than others (namely Lemmy, Wendy, and Morton’s were lacking), and I’m almost positive I won’t be able to get to them in full.

So how about a big spoiler dump, huh? Every plot point, every plan, every character concept that was going to occur will be beneath the cut! If you wanna wait on me to maybe get to them over the course of another decade, please, by all means don’t read beyond!

If you’re hungry for what was cooking upstairs, then scroll on! And thank you guys for the outpouring of support I’ve constantly gotten with this blog! 💖 (Also for real, this read-more is mega long, so seriously prep yourself. Here’s the google docs version that might make it easier to read! If you have any questions about the plot stuff, uh. Maybe I'll answer them OOC?)

Also bonus comparison images! EW!!

TL;DR: The prophecy was a sort-of fake created by Kamek! It started out real, but after it officially stopped existing, it was perpetuated on accident/for emotionally selfish reasons! It didn’t start out that way when I planned the blog, but it eventually became that over the course of development discussion with BoomPom mun! Eventually the koopz were gonna give up their star child prophecy magic nonsent and live their lives how they wanted to. The end!

THE LONG VERSION

Version 1.0 of AskTehKoopz (then AskIggyAndTehKoopz):

The star children prophecy was loosely based on the Yoshi’s Island DS concept of “star children”. Each koopaling (and Bowser Junior) were imbued with an inherent, powerful magic when they were born to help them take over other kingdoms (as mentioned in their various bios). This changed both their ability to inherently harness magic as well as changing their species, explaining their strange features, specifically their pointed ears and wildly colored hair (the pointed ears admittedly did come later during the wedding arc).

The koopalings had always been planned to be unnatural magikoopas, but at the beginning of the blog’s inception, it was not concrete what exactly they each were. This will be covered below.

Version 2.0 of AskTehKoopz:

If you look in their bios, you will see that they are each noted as “Magikoopa(?) + (Where they were born)”. This, along with their last names, were a hint as to their original species. This was added circa 2017 when their bios/references were finally updated.

Originally they were the following:

Roy - Bullet Bill

Iggy - Toad

Morton - Hammer Bro

Larry - Yoshi

Ludwig - Koopa Troopa

Wendy - Bombshell Koopa

Lemmy - I don’t knoooowwww

An additional twist had been introduced during this stage as well:

This set of koopalings (and Junior) were not the first set of prophesied star children.

Affectionately named “The Alpha Koopz”, these are what you might know as the DiC cartoon koopalings: Bully, Cheatsy, Kooky, Kootie Pie, Big Mouth, Hip, and Hop. These seven, along with a young!Bowz were the first set of star children. Back then, Bowz did not see them so much as kids he needed to take care of. Moreso they were “guys who he’s forced to do magic alongside”, despite Kamek’s pressure to be more attentive to them as the eldest. He was considerably more reckless back then with his power as well.

As aggressive and mean and selfish as the blog koopz are, they don’t surpass the sheer annoyance and danger the alpha koopz put themselves in, mainly due to Bowz’s negligence.

And because of this unfettered, reckless behavior, they managed to doom themselves to a “Game Over”, shattering the prophecy and allowing their set of star child powers (along with Bowz’s) to shoot off and embed itself into the next set of vessels. This is also why the blog koopz are “in the wrong order” with regards to their age.

In addition to gaining these star child powers, echoes of their memories and actions and dynamics exist in some of the koopz tendencies:

This is why Lemmy gravitates towards Iggy (Hip and Hop’s closeness). Cheatsy is why Larry is a kleptomaniac. Kooky is where Ludwig’s “crazy laugh” comes from. Kootie Pie is where Wendy pulled “Daddykins” from.

How did they game over? As of right now, it was a mundane and tragically, incredibly avoidable fate, one that echoes Bowser’s many in-game endings: Bully simply fell off the roof of the castle, plunging into the lava moat below. The alpha koopz had little restraint and they encouraged one another to constantly do dangerous things. Walking along the giant chains of the castle without his wand was one of these dangerous things.

If Kamek had had the power to*, if Bowz had desired to see them as more than nuisances and instead helped them learn restraint, if they had realized that despite their immense power, they weren’t invincible, they most likely would have been the koopz that were blogging.

Whomp whomp!

(*I don’t have a good place to stick this, but to put it shortly, the reason Kamek had to be hands off with the alpha koopz is because he used to have a place in what was basically a high magikoopa council. He was assigned to train Bowz to fulfill the prophecy when he was first born with his star child powers. Bowz was NOT a very good student and put himself and many others in danger as they searched for the other 7 star children. When the council hit their last straw, they nearly elected to execute Bowz, who was a child at the time, and start the process over. Kamek traded his spot in the council to spare him, as he had grown attached to Bowz. Bowz overheard this discussion and shaped up quickly. Kamek has never found out Bowz knew of this deal.)

Version 3.0 of AskTehKoopz:

All of the above in 2.0 still happened, however there is now an additional twist.

The prophecy’s a lie! Sort of!

This one was on BoomPom mun. I joked about an article referring to Kamek as a koopaling and unfortunately we came up with something tragic:

Kamek was ALSO part of a set of koopz BEFORE the alpha koopz! Whoa!

Back nearly 100 years ago, there was supposed to be a prophecy. It wasn’t Koopa Kingdom specific, just a general “Well whoever can harness these powers will be able to take over”, it just happened to be the Koopa Kingdom that found out about it first (they were a group of some mix of archeologists and scientists, I don’t remember fully*). It was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. These powers would awaken and they HAD to find someone to use them. Kamek, along with these 7 other kids/teens, were given the opportunity of a lifetime to essentially be vessels for this crazy power to help bring this prophecy to life (literally signing their souls away. The powers NEEDED a soul to latch onto and a body to stabilize itself with).

(*I think that BoomPom mun and I vaguely discussed they might have been the same people who ALSO were the ones who created the cores for the splorches that eventually became Sol, Simon, and Scotty. Yet another experiment that went terribly wrong. These guys are on FIRE. 0-2!)

So Kamek and these 7 formed a really tight sibling bond pre- and post-power. But uhhhh you really shouldn’t be giving crazy raw magical prophecy power to children. Absolute bonkers idea.

Despite their extensive training, it didn’t end well. They genuinely worked so hard to try to be the ones to help bring empires to their knees, but they were only children. I didn’t have a specific incident, all I recall was that the power was WAY beyond their control, and all 8 of them died.

Except.

Through some fail-safe Kamek set up prior to their last hurrah to revive all 8 of them (he felt something might go wrong when they did what they did), Kamek was revived. Alone.

Left in the ruins of what their own powers did to them, Kamek had to live with the guilt that he lost the prophecy, but more importantly, he lost his family, too. Unless he did something about it.

So, despite what a terrible idea it was and how dangerous it might have been, knowing these powers were linked to his sibling’s souls, he decided “I know the prophecy was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But I’m gonna make it happen again somehow. I do not care.” And with the star child powers he still had, he tried to revive them again. Despite the blood, sweat, and tears poured into the ritual, it didn’t work.

Years passed, he’s on the magikoopa council and eventually, after finding kid!Bowz, he’s like “...Hey wait a minute, I weirdly recognize you.” (Magic vibes, general demeanor, etc.) He discovers wow! The prophecy is back on! I did it?! I DID IT?! Soon he recognizes slowly that each of the powers/souls got transferred to a random kid they need to find.

So they find the alpha koopz (i.e. cartoon koopalings) and uh. Yeah they’re all bratty asshole versions of his found family, but well. It does bring him a strange comfort knowing they’re slightly living on regardless. However Hip and Hop are weird. Like. Finishing each other’s sentences, acting in tandem, etc. It’s extremely bizarre. And he’s not really sure WHICH of his siblings Hop is?

Unsure how, but he finds out oops, after restarting the prophecy for a second time, his star child powers got sort of weird because KAMEK WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD. The other 7 star child powers traveled with the souls that stabilized them, however Kamek’s star power DIDN’T HAVE A SOUL TO TRAVEL WITH CAUSE… KAMEK IS ALIVE? So that raw star power was like “Ummm… Uhhhh…… Where do I go? I need a soul to latch onto, I am an insane amount of power…” Luckily Hip and Hop are twins, so naturally, it latched onto Hip’s soul and shares a soul between the two of them while also trying to make its own soul, but it can’t do it right. Super fine and no issues happen because of that at all. They aren’t offputting and weird, I promise.

So Hop was essentially SUPPOSED to have Kamek’s soul pre-packaged with the power, but Kamek is still very much alive, so it’s sort of. Trying to make due. It’s both halfway between Kamek and Hop while ALSO soulless but ALSO trying to use Hip’s soul to ground itself while ALSO trying to artificially make a soul for itself. It’s a mess. Just understand Hop’s star child powers are a mess because Kamek is still alive.

Of course, like in 2.0, the alpha koopz’s Game Over happens, and the prophecy is broken again. Kamek assumes “Well. That’s the end of that. I don’t have enough magic power to try and restart it again, because half of it was in that freak child, so I definitely can’t do a second round of that.”

Everyone in the Koopa Kingdom, including Bowz, are like “Don’t worry, there’ll be another way we can fulfill this prophecy! They came back the first time! People were wrong that it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance!”

Kamek plays along with it, being like “Yep, that definitely happens naturally. Obviously we’re going to have another set of star children. There were no outside forces that made it happen a second time.” You know. Like a liar.

However, SURPRISE! ROY AND IGGY SHOW UP! AND ROY’S ACTING LIKE ONE OF HIS SIBS! OH GOD, I DON’T THINK THIS HOW ANY OF THIS IS SUPPOSED TO WORK. I LITERALLY DO NOT THINK THIS IS A PROPHECY THING ANYMORE. DID I ACCIDENTALLY TRAP MY SIBLING’S SOULS IN A NEVERENDING EXISTENCE LOOP CURSED TO LIVE VICARIOUSLY THROUGH OTHERS FOR ETERNITY? ALSO WHO THE HELL IS IN THAT ONE? (LOOKS AT IGGY)

(This is actually what this sketch on turtle-pen was about, with Kamek’s concern over them not being messed up, like how Hip and Hop were, haha)

So uh. Yeah, Kamek isn’t sure WHY the cycle is continuing, and he’s almost positive the prophecy’s not even really a thing anymore, but the star children stuff sure is! And the powers/souls are already super unstable by the time they get to blog koopz, and it only gets worse as time passes! (One of the earliest examples of that magical decay was Roy suddenly getting an impulse to shave his head to match Bully/pre-koopz “Roy”. Eventually this kind of thing would start happening later on down the line in higher frequency with the other koopz as well. This is actually what the third sketch on this post was alluding to. In fact, Iggy’s is actually the most unstable magic of them all, because ever since the fake-out death with Kamek, whoever got HIS star child powers was always going to be the weakest/most unstable magically. More about this will be covered in Roy’s section below)

The Koopz

What order did they all end up at Bowz’s?

I talked about how each of them got to the castle in their bios, however if you can’t piece it together, the order is Roy/Iggy -> Ludwig -> Morton -> Wendy -> Larry -> Lemmy. Junior, I think, showed up between Wendy and Larry. Bowser just walked in with him one day. None of them know where he came from.

Why is Iggy a vegetarian? Also why are his eyes like that?

I’m gonna keep it buck: Iggy is a vegetarian purely because I wanted an excuse to make him monster-y sometimes. In 2.0 Koopz, I justified it by the star child power (being inherently a magikoopa power) not meshing well to him being a Toad, playing off the idea of Toads and Koopas being diametrically opposed.

There was a sliding scale of “how lizard” someone was based on how well their species reacted with magikoopa magic (I only remember Iggy being the most “lizard-y” and Larry being the 2nd most “lizard-y”, This is also why his eyes are like that and why he and Larry have split tongues) Eating meat weirdly triggered some primal urge in him due to the magikoopa thing, I guess?

In 3.0 Koopz, I genuinely have no reason why he can’t eat meat or has weird eyes since I got rid of the lizard-y scale, I was gonna figure it out later, haha. The 2nd pic is actually him after accidentally eating Pom’s burger when his veggie burger got swapped at a restaurant.

Who was that kid in the flashforward meme?

That’s Ozzy, Iggy and Pom’s kid! He melts! :) (cw for body horror and blood in that link) But it’s okay, he gets better!

To put it plainly, in 2.0, Pom accidentally gets some of her DNA in Iggy’s clone nonsense, and oops they have a kid now. He is NOT genetically stable. Drama ensues, and they have to figure out how to get him to not completely unravel.

At first, we thought that maybe Iggy should have him melt and clone him again without the memories of melting and present it as something he worked tirelessly on (and BoomPom mun drew an excellent comic about Pom’s reaction to it), but we couldn’t justify any way for her to forgive Iggy for basically replacing Ozzy, and Poggy was just too important to us to break up. We were stumped.

And long story short, the book Ludwig was reading when he was in se7en-sib’s world was one about DNA cloning. (But that’s spoiler stuff for se7en sib’s blog that I won’t get into, heh heh) And Ludwig, despite it being the perfect opportunity to have Iggy traumatize and disappoint Pom, tells them about it and that they should visit se7en-sib’s Kamek somehow to fix it. (He does fix it! By melting Ozzy and recreating him again. HOWEVER Ludwig and Iggy have to swear to secrecy about it. They take that shit to their graves.)

So he’s better now!

ROY:

Roy had started on the path of his biggest plot points being covered (him finally ending up with Boom and slowly showcasing his natural inclination to being a leader, despite NOT wanting to be), but I didn’t get his biggest two out of the way (one of which I’m glad I didn’t get to yet): Roy cheating and Roy almost dying.

Koopz 1.0 - Roy was going to be transphobic (specifically enbyphobic. This is actually one of the reasons he doesn’t like Larry all that much), but over time he’d learn that that’s a personal problem. He specifically had a lot to unlearn of his biases of what inherently makes someone a man/woman. Ludwig’s transition was fine with him, but Larry “switching” didn’t make sense to him. (His definition of a “man” was severely warped by his abusive father) This is actually still canon, but he learns better, of course.

Roy was also going to cheat on Boom via a night of drunken infidelity. The big twist was going to be that it was with a woman, and along with him, we find out that he’s bisexual. After some thinking it over, I ultimately decided, despite the drama that would ensue, I didn’t feel particularly comfortable perpetuating what I didn’t realize was a “cheating bisexual” stereotype. Morton’s bi as well, so maybe it would have been fine? But I was like “Uhhhh noooo I shouldn’t do that.” (I wish I could find the pic BoomPom mun drew in reference to when they got locked in a room together by Pom and Iggy to “talk it out”. Boom was punching the wall next to Roy and it was real dramatic. Oh well!) There was also a discussion about a compromise of him sleeping with other people, but letting Boom know about it beforehand? It was gonna be MESSY, haha!

Koopz 2.0/3.0 - Him coming out as bisexual changed to what was going to be a comic with Roy confronting the fact his hypermasculinity was exacerbated because he felt that not being solely attracted to men was a win for his shitty dad. (It makes sense in HIS head: being gay but also being hyper-masculine and liking pink was to piss off his dad. But if he’s actually also attracted to women, then his dad gets what he wants, right? For him to like women?) It was going to end in a sweet moment where Boom reassured him being bi didn’t mean his dad was right about him.

Now to Roy almost dying. Hoo boy. So as mentioned, the star child powers they all got were already quite unstable. As time went on, things started unraveling at a quicker pace. Roy started having weird flashbacks/visions in his dreams (only telling Iggy), which are of course visions of the alpha koopz. Soon enough all the present-day koopz would start to have moments where they physically re-enact something the previous star children did. This was especially prevalent when certain koopz interacted with one another (like if Lemmy and Iggy brushed by each other, suddenly they’re acting exactly like Hip and Hop again for a short while). These moments not only got more frequent, but longer as well.

And we’d build up to Roy, like Bully, on the roof, the rest of the koopz in their hazy, lucid states, encouraging him, like the alpha koopz did so long ago. None of them would be really in their right minds, it was all going to be very dramatic. There was gonna be rain and everything, building up to the inevitable of the cycle being broken again.

What’s the difference this time around? Roy’s dating Boom. And Boom solves this the only way he knows how: by clocking Roy in the face before he almost slips and falls. So Roy gets knocked out, which manages to knock ALL the other koopz out of their weird stupor.

This plotline gets resolved by the koopz having a heart-to-heart with each other, with Bowz, and with Kamek, who comes clean about the whole prophecy thing, which isn’t quite real anymore (due to the 3.0 change). Professing how he just missed his family and didn’t want any of this to happen nor did he know any of this was going to happen.

Ultimately they’d come to the conclusion that they need to let these weird soul/magic things go, to stop anchoring their souls and not allowing them to move on, and to let the koopz live how they were supposed to. Kamek can’t guarantee they’ll be able to even harness magic anymore, or honestly if this would even work, but they end up performing a VERY extensive, painful, and tiring ritual that allows Kamek closure, allows the blog koopz to meet the alpha koopz for a moment, and allows them to live their normal lives. (As koopa royalty, but you know.)

There was also a planned Nintendask event where Roy was going to raise his father from the dead to confront him about his shitty behavior. Chaos was going to ensue and there was going to be a small “Zombie apocalypse” event similar to the revolution arc that occurred.

IGGY:

The main things with Iggy had already pretty much occurred: Hooking up with Pom -> Love poisoning himself -> Confrontation with Ludwig about it -> ??? -> Profit. Honestly there truly only one plot point that didn’t get to be touched on, and that’s Marilyn! (Those who follow turtle-pen probably know Marilyn)

Koopz 1.0: Like I said, at first the star child powers were going to be specifically magikoopa and make Iggy super weirdly unstable magically. He at first would dye his hair blue/yellow/pink (Hop’s colors. This is pre-alpha koopz) to not stick out in Toad society. His parents were a LITTLE worried about his nonconformity. He was going to run away from home, because oops he ate meat and hurt his parents pretty bad. I THINK at one point this switched to him accidentally killing them, but we don’t talk about the Edgy Koopz Era. This was switched back to harming them pretty soon after.

Koopz 2.0: After the introduction of the Hop thing, it now became less “He dyed his hair to fit in” and “He dyed his hair because he Mysteriously Doesn’t Know Why.”

Truly the biggest change/introduction was the inception of Marilyn. HE IS… Once again a thinly-veiled excuse to shove some favorite tropes onto Iggy. BoomPom mun and I got super into the Jekyll and Hyde musical (specifically with Anthony Warlow), and we went “Iggy should get a Hyde thing going on”. So in combination with the weird “can’t eat meat lest you go sicko mode” thing, we decided to justify it by making it be Iggy try to get rid of his “lizardness”. (This was when the lizard scale still existed) It manifested as Marilyn, who REALLY hated Iggy and REALLY liked Pom. Shenanigans ensued.

Koopz 3.0: Once the lizard scale was taken out, we were like “Uhhhh Marilyn shouldn’t exist anymore”, however unfortunately I love him. So YOU REMEMBER THAT LOVE POTION ANTIDOTE THAT POM GAVE IGGY THAT MADE HIM SICK? Yeah Marilyn came from that now. That weird star child magic latched onto this manifestation of emotions that became his own being (you can see it in the last two pics here). Sue me, man.

You can read more about him on turtle-pen, but the end-game was that Marilyn was sent to Sol’s lab to work for him so he could be humbled and he fell for Bob. A huge nerd. He also became besties with Scotty. The end.

Outside of this, I really had no other big sweeping plot points for Iggy to cover, other than him and Boom learning to get along, potentially meeting Boom and Pom’s actually alive parents (This was only briefly discussed with BoomPom mun, and we didn’t plan much further than that other than AU discussions), and the introduction of Ozzy.

Oh and Iggy was also going to come to terms with IDing as agender during 1.0, but I ultimately never got around to confirming it.

MORTON:

I believe really the only big plot situation that was going to happen for Morton was developing further about his crush on Birdetta only for him to get turned down. I was juggling seven kids, man.

Other than this, I don’t think I ever fully explained how he lost his leg? It was implied in his flashback, but his father (a hardass) was the type to be like “Speak when spoken to” to a degree that was unhealthy. At the military base he was raised on, he managed to get a pretty bad cut on his leg, but, in fear of his father, he never spoke up about it. It developed sepsis and well you know how that goes.

LARRY:

Koopz 1.0: The biggest change was Larry getting hit with the Edgy Koopz Beam as well, similarly to Iggy. He was normal, then shifted to being more violent, back to being normal again.

Koopz 2.0: Even in 1.0, Larry was always planned to have been dealing with depression and anxiety via… self-medicating. However 2.0 is really what changed the cause from intrinsic to extrinsic. The main thing that exacerbated his smoking habit, depression, and anxiety was that he found out they weren’t the only set of kids Bowz had dealt with. I don’t know how, but he somehow managed to find out about the alpha koopz. He kept that secret to himself, but it not only made him feel replaceable/used, but it soured his opinion on Bowz as a whole.

Ultimately Larry was going to get therapy, discuss with the other koopz what he knew about the previous star children, and eventually ween away from his drug habit. I can’t find the post, but I did mention it when doing some ask meme about rating ships and someone sent in a Larry/Weed one and I went “0/5”, haha.

LUDWIG:

There’s honestly not much to say here. Truly most of Ludwig’s arcs have been concluded: his crush on Pom has been wrapped up, him coming out to the koopz as trans (officially) has happened, and he’s on track with his HRT.

The only current plan that had been in motion was to more properly have him and Iggy talk it out and Pom be a wingman for him in his further romantic endeavors.

I suppose that there were also potential plans for him and Scotty to end up together because. Um. They’re cute. (There was also a mild discussion of him and Trudy as well, but there was a lot more discussion between BoomPom mun and I about him and Scotty!)

WENDY:

Similarly to Morton, Wendy didn’t have much going on on her end in regards to big arching plot points either, other than ending up with Chuck eventually and also confronting her insecurities with feeling like she’s not very special!

LEMMY:

And like Morton and Wendy before him, uh. Lemmy didn’t have much! The only planned thing was the drama of his type 1 diabetes diagnosis and that’s IT. Maybe bring back his mom since that was touched on?

Endgame for the Koopz:

They were going to give up their star child powers and return to normalcy, as mentioned in Roy’s section. However they’re still royals so of course it’s still a weird and exciting life for them. I believe they all still end up with the ability to use magic, but it’s much more elbow grease then they’re used to working with.

Roy was going to have a kid with Boom! Unsure if biologically/magically or adopted. Somehow they get their little girl, Stevie, though! I think Roy would also get in touch with his estranged sister that I only just realized I haven’t brought up (4th pic here!).

Roy and Larry were going to end up as co-DJs together working at a nightclub.

Iggy and Pom were gonna have Ozzy, and honestly? Kinda just continue to get into crazy shenanigans. Iggy wanted to rule the Koopa Kingdom but somehow he manages to get convinced not to. (He would NOT be good at it) Iggy would also get in touch with his parents again. They really did miss him after all of these years.

Ludwig and Wendy are going to be the ACTUAL co-rulers of the Koopa Kingdom. They were both so hard-headed and stubborn about it, fighting tooth and nail to make it to the top, Bowz just crowned them both. I think Ludwig also would get in touch with his bio-family as well.

I don’t remember in full what was going to happen with Morton and Lemmy as their end game? Lemmy might have become a circus performer and Morton the military general of the Koopa Army? I really don’t recall to be honest!

And that’s it! That’s all the plot I remember! If you made it this far, thank you for reading!

#nintendask #asktehkoopz #koopalings #super mario #10 year tumblrversary #I HAVE. 20 MINUTES TO SPARE BEFORE IT WAS NO LONGER THE 26TH. Also just so it's clear YES the last pic's colors are a reference to SMB3!#also yes I did blatantly steal your redraw idea BoomPom but I THINK I told you this hIOLKJFD #ALSO ALSO SHOUT OUT TO THAT PERSON IN FEBRUARY WHO SENT AN ASK SAYING THAT LUDWIG'S ARC WAS A PERFECT PLACE TO CAP OFF KOOPZ #genuinely helped me come to terms with potentially not updating anymore ;v;)b!! because. You're right!! character growth!!#iggy koopa #roy koopa #larry koopa #ludwig von koopa #wendy o koopa #morton koopa #lemmy koopa #iggy draws

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cupcakeslushie · 10 months ago

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Do you have any tips on for people starting a comic and wanting to post to tumblr? Like pacing ect. Or well any experience you’ve had with your comics? Love your content as well ❤️

If it’s simply for fun, and you’re just trying to gain experience, my biggest advice would be to just START. Don’t worry about it looking perfect. Don’t worry about comparing it to other’s comics. Just try something, and if you find it’s not working, you can always change things up. I have gone through several styles and page layouts since starting. Do I wish those first pages of EW looked just like what I’m doing now? Yes, but if I’d waited around for perfection I would have never started. And I wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun creating it! If people like it, that’s great, but your art is for you. If you’re growing and learning and having fun, then you’ve accomplished something!

Now for some less preachy advice 😂…

—If your comic is gonna be hosted on Tumblr specifically, I would say, make sure you keep the 10 image limit in the back of your mind when you’re pacing things. That can definitely cause some headaches down the line. If you don’t plan ahead, and end up hitting it, you’ll have a sudden cut in your flow. This last update I knew it was gonna be long, so while I did plan, but I could’ve planned better.

—Variety is key!!!!!

Composition changes keep your viewers from getting bored. Sometimes I’ll find myself falling back into the bad habit of just doing the simple back and forth with two characters talking straight on, but changing the camera angle, making establishing shots when you change locations, and over the shoulder shots, etc etc…All these will make for a more interesting viewing. You may think a character needs to be in every single panel to make it interesting, but if you have a lot of dialogue, a simple plain shot—either in top of a solid background, or just over something boring, like a glance at the set, etc—this will let people focus on the words rather than splitting their focus.

Variety applies to shading as well—whether you’re using color or black/white. Variety in values are SO important for comics. You’re shoving a ton of information in a limited space, so try to keep your values different for items that are close together….it can make things very confusing and turn your line work into indistinguishable blobs if you shade without this in mind.

(Using this panel as an example….)

The top two panels have a variety of darker values and a halftone background—so the next two with Venus, I kept rather simple. I could’ve colored the buildings behind her, but then, she might’ve gotten lost amidst all the grey. There’s not really any trick or solid rule to this, but once you develop your creative eye, you’ll make these choices without even thinking about it.

A few links to helpful tools (they’re all procreate centered I’m afraid 😅)

Outline brush — a free tutorial for Procreate users. This brush kinda mimics the CPS feature that lets you create panels with a nice black outline. I used this brush very often, and it really gives your panels a professional look. Fair warning, it can be glitchy, but it’s free…

Manero Comic Bubbles and sfx — These brushes are not free, so I would recommend maybe getting in your groove before you try them out. They’re by no means necessary, but I’ve just started using them, and they save me so much time. There’s a HUGE selection of shapes, and they go on with a solid white background, so you don’t have to worry about coloring around your dialogue balloons.

#rottmnt #ask slushie #slushie rambles #I could probably think of more stuff but my brain is fried I’m just really putting the rambling in that slushie rambles tag #art tips #slushie faq

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 1 month ago

Text

Between the Ropes.. a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 26: The Room…

October 16th, 2024 8:19 PM.

Jey sat in the hospital room, the steady beeping of the machines surrounding him. Three days had passed, and every day felt like a lifetime. Rhea was still intubated, the ventilator’s rhythmic hiss and the occasional soft alarms from the monitors filling the otherwise quiet room. Her once-vibrant energy, the same energy that lit up every arena she stepped into, was now reduced to these mechanical sounds.

He kissed her hand, cold to the touch, and his lips lingered there as if somehow the warmth of his love could spark something inside her. But nothing had changed. Every day, her heart rate seemed to dip just a little bit more, and it broke him a little more each time.

Jey didn’t care about RAW. He didn’t care about anything outside this room. Rhea was his entire world right now. The show could go on without him, the drama of WWE meant nothing if she wasn’t there to share in it with him. And so he stayed, refusing to leave her side unless absolutely necessary. The only moments he wasn’t in the room were when the nurses bathed her or when his stomach and his body demanded food or a quick shower. Other than that, Jey stayed, tethered to Rhea, holding on to her hand as if it could somehow bring her back.

Rhea’s family had been by every day. They were still staying at Damian’s loft, which was closer to the hospital and gave them a break from the inevitable media frenzy outside. Damian had insisted, wanting to protect Rhea’s family from the chaos while they dealt with their own pain. Calista, Rhea’s sister, had been strong, or at least tried to be, but Jey could see the pain in her eyes, the way she clutched her phone like she was waiting for some kind of miracle news.

Her parents were quieter, doing their best to support each other and Rhea, but they always seemed to leave before nightfall. They needed rest, time away from the constant barrage of machines and the heavy weight of the hospital. But not Jey. He couldn’t leave her, not for long. How could he? This was the woman he loved.

Trinity and Jon had left the day before, heading back to Florida. They couldn’t stay forever, but they promised to return the moment anything changed. Trinity had held Jey tightly before she left, whispering that he wasn’t alone in this, that they were all praying for Rhea. Jon had been quieter, more reserved, but the silent pat on the back was enough to convey his support.

Jey had promised to keep them updated, but the truth was, there hadn’t been any updates to give.

It was just him and Rhea now. Jey stared at her, his eyes tracing the familiar curves of her face, even with the tubes and wires connected to her. She looked so different from the woman he knew—the fierce, unstoppable Rhea Ripley. Now, she was still, and it tore him apart.

He could feel exhaustion tugging at his bones, but he didn’t care. The weight of the sleepless nights and the anxiety gnawed at him, but none of it compared to the thought of losing her. Slowly, he stood up, his legs stiff from sitting too long in the uncomfortable chair. His back ached, his muscles sore, but he barely noticed anymore.

Leaning down, Jey pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, brushing aside a lock of her dark hair. “I’ll be right back, babygirl,” he whispered, his voice cracking from the exhaustion and emotion. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

He hesitated at the door, his eyes locked on her. Every step away from her felt like a betrayal, but he knew he needed a break. Just a quick one. A few minutes to grab a bite to eat and then he’d be right back.

With a heavy heart, Jey left the room, his footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. The door closed softly behind him, but the weight of it lingered in his chest. Even though he wasn’t physically with her, his heart remained tethered to Rhea. He wouldn’t leave her, not truly. Not until she woke up. He would be here, always.

Jey managed to walk his way down the quiet hallways to the cafeteria, his body moving on autopilot. It was late, but the cafeteria was still open, a small mercy in the middle of his long nights. He grabbed a tray and picked out some fruit and a microwaveable pizza slice that looked less appetizing than he remembered, but at least it was food. He grabbed two waters and a Gatorade, knowing he needed to stay hydrated even if he didn’t have much of an appetite.

As he approached the cashier, he fumbled with his wallet, pulling out some cash. The cashier, an older woman with kind eyes, smiled softly at him as she handed him his change. “Take care, honey,” she said, and Jey nodded, too tired to respond with more than a weak smile. He appreciated the sentiment, even if words felt hollow at the moment.

Jey made his way back to Rhea’s room, pushing the door open quietly. The familiar sounds of the machines greeted him, but something was different. A nurse was arranging more flowers that had been delivered, setting them down on the counter by the window. The room was starting to look more like a florist’s shop with the sheer number of arrangements. Cards filled with well-wishes and hopes of a speedy recovery.

The nurse turned to Jey, offering a small smile. “Would you like me to rearrange these? Make more room?” she asked, gesturing to the bouquets cluttering the room.

Jey nodded, setting his tray down on a small table by the bed. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

As the nurse quietly set about her task, Jey began to pick at his food. The pizza tasted as bland as it looked, but he forced himself to chew and swallow. He needed energy, needed something to keep him going. But even as he ate, his mind stayed with Rhea, his eyes flickering to her still form every few seconds.

Once the nurse had finished tidying up, she gave him a quick nod before leaving the room, her footsteps light and respectful as she closed the door behind her. Jey was alone with Rhea again, the quiet beeping of the machines the only sound.

He sighed, pushing the tray aside after finishing the banana. He turned to Rhea, still holding her hand, feeling the coolness of her skin. His thumb gently rubbed over her knuckles, and for a moment, he just sat there, watching her breathe with the help of the ventilator.

“Pizza ain’t that good after you eat it a couple of times…” he muttered softly, talking to her as if she could hear him. “I think the only thing that’s getting me by is the bananas.”

Jey paused, his voice catching for a moment. He stared at her, waiting for any sign that she might stir, that she might wake up and give him one of those teasing smiles, the ones she always flashed when he said something silly.

But there was nothing.

His throat tightened, and he squeezed her hand gently. “I’m trying to stay strong for you, you know?” His voice was barely a whisper. “But it’s hard, Rhea. Every day you don’t wake up… it’s harder to breathe without you.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the edge of her bed, her hand still clutched in his. “Please wake up. I don’t know how long I can do this without you.”

Tears stung his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away, not wanting to break down again. He had to be strong. For her. For them.

But in the quiet of the hospital room, with only the machines for company, all he could do was wait and hold on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, she’d open her eyes.

Jey took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he looked down at Rhea’s still, intubated form. He missed her smile, her voice—everything. He felt a constant heaviness in his chest, but reading these cards gave him a sense of connection, as though it would help her feel the outpouring of love that surrounded her.

“Rhea,” he murmured softly, his voice almost drowned out by the hum of the machines. “Would you like to hear some of the cards people sent? I know you’ve got a lot of people thinking about you.”

Jey stood up, gently letting go of her hand, and walked over to the vases lined up near the window. One vase caught his attention first—a striking arrangement of black roses. He plucked the card from its place, turning it over in his hands before reading it out loud.

“This one’s from The bum ass Judgment Day,” he said, looking over the note.

“Get well soon, Rhea. We’re all thinking about you. JD and Carlito are trying to fill your shoes, but there’s no replacing you. Dom’s holding it down, and Liv says we need our queen back. We’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready to tear things up again. With love, ‘The Temu Judgement Day’.”

Jey chuckled softly as he placed the card back in the vase. “They’re all waiting for you, Rhea. You’ve got a whole army in your corner.”

He moved on to the next vase, this one bursting with vibrant daisies. He picked up the card attached to it and saw Nia’s name. His heart softened, knowing how close Nia and Rhea had become, especially after he and Rhea got together.

“Rhea. I know you’re in there fighting, and I’m here fighting with you. We’ve got each other’s backs, right? Jey’s going crazy over here, so do me a favor and get up soon. We all need you—especially him. Love you, Rhea. – Nia.”

He smiled as he placed the card back. Nia always had a way of adding humor to a heavy situation. She’d been like a sister to Rhea, and it warmed Jey’s heart knowing how much support they had, especially from family.

But as Jey moved to the next vase, something inside him shifted. The vibrant Teuila torch ginger stood tall, Samoa’s national flower. His hands shook slightly as he pulled the card from its place, knowing that this one was different. The weight of family was behind this card.

Taking a deep breath, Jey read the card out loud, his voice trembling slightly.

“Dear Rhea,” he began, “We’re all praying for your recovery. You’re a part of our family now, and we can’t wait to welcome you home when you’re ready. Stay strong for yourself, for Jey, and for all of us. With love, Solofa, Talisua, Jeyce… and Jaciyah.”

Jey’s voice broke as he read his son’s name. Jaciyah, the one who had been so angry with him for leaving his mother, Takecia, had attached his name to the card. It was a sign—a huge step. It felt like a piece of the family puzzle had finally started to come together.

His vision blurred with tears as he set the card down gently. He wiped his face quickly, trying to stay composed, but his emotions were too raw.

“Rhea,” he whispered, turning back to her, his voice filled with a mix of hope and pain. “My family… our family… they’re all here with you. Even Jaciyah… he’s coming around. You’re already a part of us.”

Jey returned to her side, sitting down and once again taking her cold hand in his. He held it tightly, his thumb gently stroking her skin as he fought to keep his tears at bay.

“You’ve got so much love around you,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “My mom, my dad, Jeyce… Jaciyah… They’re waiting for you. I’m waiting for you.”

His forehead rested against her arm as the tears he’d been holding back finally fell. He didn’t care anymore—he let the emotion wash over him. “You’re already one of us, Rhea. You always have been. And we’re not giving up on you.”

The room remained silent, save for the beeping of the machines and the soft hum of the ventilator. But in that stillness, Jey felt the overwhelming presence of love—an invisible force that was keeping them all going.

He squeezed her hand once more, his voice breaking as he whispered, “We’re all waiting for you, Rhea. Come back to us.”

Jey sat in the chair, exhaustion creeping over him like a heavy fog. His eyelids felt heavier with each blink, and the sterile, quiet hum of the hospital room only made the silence more unbearable. He glanced at Rhea again, her still figure unmoving except for the gentle rise and fall of her chest, assisted by the ventilator.

After some time, Jey rubbed his face, feeling the weight of his weariness. He gently pulled his hand away from Rhea’s, even though it hurt to do so. He knew he needed some rest. He stood up, staring down at her one last time before making his way to the other side of the room.

He turned the chair into a twin bed, the mechanical click loud in the otherwise quiet room. He grabbed the pillows and blanket from the other chair, setting them up in a makeshift bed that would allow him to stay as close to her as possible. Sleep had become something of a luxury lately, but if he was going to doze off, he wanted to do it right here—next to Rhea.

Jey lowered the bed guard on her side, his movements slow and deliberate, trying not to disturb any of the machines or wires. Once it was down, he carefully pushed the chair bed closer to her, close enough that he could reach out and touch her. He made himself as comfortable as he could, shifting around until he settled in. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

Once he was lying down, Jey reached out, draping his arm gently over Rhea’s stomach. The soft rise and fall beneath his arm reminded him that she was still here, still fighting. His fingers grazed her side as if he could somehow transfer his strength to her, willing her to wake up, to open her eyes and smile at him again.

“Goodnight, Rhea,” he whispered softly, his voice filled with love and exhaustion.

He allowed his eyes to close, the steady rhythm of the machines lulling him into sleep. It wasn’t long before Jey fell into a deep slumber, still clinging to the hope that when he woke up, Rhea would be awake too. For now, though, all he could do was hold her close, even if it was in silence, and pray for the day she’d wake up and everything would be right again.

As Jey drifted deeper into sleep, his mind took him to a place that felt far more comforting—his memories. The hospital room, the cold sterile environment, and the beeping machines all faded away as a familiar warmth filled his senses.

In the memory, Jey stood in the kitchen, the scent of sizzling bacon and eggs filling the air. He hummed a little tune under his breath, flipping the omelets carefully and making sure they were just right, golden and fluffy. After all, this wasn’t just any breakfast—it was breakfast in bed for Rhea. A special morning where they had no plans but to indulge in each other’s company, free from the outside world.

Once he was done, Jey assembled the plates, adding some fresh fruit to the side. He grabbed two glasses of orange juice and placed everything neatly on a tray. He smiled to himself, proud of the little surprise he was about to bring her.

Balancing the tray carefully, he made his way toward the guest bedroom. The house was silent, the absence of anyone else giving them a rare moment of peace. As he nudged the door open with his hip, he found Rhea lying in bed, completely relaxed, her bare skin glowing in the soft morning light. She stretched lazily, her eyes sparkling as she admired him.

“Someone is pulling out all the stops today…” she teased, her voice playful and full of affection. She sat up slightly, the sheets draped loosely around her body, revealing just enough to make Jey’s heart race.

He grinned, walking over to the bed and setting the tray down carefully on the nightstand. “Well, you know I gotta keep you happy, especially after the night we had,” he winked, leaning in to give her a quick kiss before grabbing his plate.

Rhea raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “After I devour this omelet, I’m going to devour you all day,” she purred, making Jey chuckle as he sat beside her.

“That’s the plan,” Jey said, giving her a playful nudge. “House is all ours today, no interruptions. Just you and me, all day in this bed.”

Rhea’s eyes gleamed with excitement at the idea, and she grabbed her fork, ready to dig in. “Well, in that case, you better eat fast, because I’m not gonna wait too long.”

Jey laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. In this memory, everything was perfect. The warmth of the sun filtering through the curtains, the taste of breakfast shared with the woman he loved, the promise of an entire day spent together in each other’s arms—it was the kind of simple, intimate joy that he cherished most. A day where the outside world didn’t exist, and all that mattered was their love.

As he sat there, watching Rhea eat with a smile on her face, Jey couldn’t help but feel overwhelming gratitude for moments like this. It was a kind of happiness he wished he could hold on to forever.

But just as quickly as the memory came, it began to fade, pulling Jey back into the present. The warmth of the sun and Rhea’s laughter disappeared, replaced by the cool, sterile air of the hospital. Jey stirred in his sleep, his body shifting slightly as the reality of Rhea’s current condition settled back in. He tightened his arm around her in his sleep, clinging to the fleeting memory and hoping for more days like that—more mornings filled with love, laughter, and the kind of peace that only Rhea could give him.

—

October 17th 2024, 7:49 AM

The following day came quietly, the dull light from the overcast sky filtering through the hospital window. Jey stirred awake, his body aching slightly from sleeping in the chair bed. The persistent sound of his phone buzzing pulled him fully out of his slumber. He groaned softly and reached into his pocket, pulling out the phone and answering without even looking at the caller ID.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Any progress?” Damian’s voice came through the line, carrying with it the familiar tone of concern.

Jey glanced over at Rhea, her face as still as it had been since the day she was admitted. The machines beside her bed continued their rhythmic beeping, each sound a reminder of how fragile everything felt.

“No,” Jey replied quietly, shaking his head even though Damian couldn’t see it. “Nothing yet.”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. Damian, always the one to keep things light, seemed to be struggling with this situation just as much as everyone else.

“Alright… You want any breakfast?” Damian offered, his voice softening.

Jey paused, feeling his stomach rumble faintly. He hadn’t eaten much lately, and what little he did eat wasn’t satisfying. “Just a bagel and a hot cup of coffee, man. That’s all I need,” Jey finally answered.

“Got it. I’ll be there soon,” Damian said, before hanging up.

Jey sat up and rubbed his face, trying to shake the tiredness from his body. He glanced around the room, eyes landing on the chair bed he had slept on, now crumpled from the night before. He got up, stretching his stiff muscles before walking over to fix it. Once he had returned the chair to its upright position, he sighed, feeling the weight of the days spent in this room press down on him.

He walked over to his duffel bag and rummaged through it, pulling out his toiletries bag and a change of clothes. He walked back to Rhea’s side, leaned over, and gently kissed her forehead, her skin still cold to the touch. “I’ll be back in a minute, baby,” he whispered, even though he wasn’t sure she could hear him.

Heading to the small restroom in Rhea’s hospital room, Jey stripped down and stepped into the shower. The hot water was a relief, washing away the stress and exhaustion that had been building up over the last few days. He took his time, scrubbing away the grime and letting the water soothe his sore muscles. After the shower, he brushed his teeth, then spent a few extra minutes styling his hair, trying to keep himself feeling somewhat put together despite the chaos in his mind.

Once he was dressed, he gathered his toiletries and placed them back in his bag, throwing his dirty clothes into the duffel. He made a mental note that he would need more clothes soon—he hadn’t expected to be here for this long.

Jey returned to his usual spot beside Rhea’s bed, sitting down and taking her hand once again. He squeezed it gently, offering what little comfort he could. As always, the silence in the room felt overwhelming. The only sound was the soft hum of the machines and the occasional shuffle of footsteps in the hallway.

Trying to distract himself, Jey picked up the remote and turned on the small TV mounted on the wall. He flipped through the channels absentmindedly, not really sure what he was looking for, until he stumbled upon an old classic—Gremlins. He chuckled to himself and decided to settle on it, letting the nostalgia of the movie keep his mind occupied.

As he waited for Damian to arrive, Jey held Rhea’s hand, his thumb gently rubbing over her skin, as if hoping that today would be the day she would squeeze back.

Damian finally arrived, the door creaking softly as he stepped into the room. He handed Jey a coffee and a bagel with some condiments, trying to offer a little comfort in the form of breakfast. “Here,” Damian said, pulling up a chair beside him. “It’s French vanilla.”

Jey barely acknowledged the gesture, taking a slow sip of the coffee, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He unwrapped the bagel but only managed a small bite before setting it aside, disinterested.

Damian unwrapped his own breakfast sandwich, glancing at Jey. “How’d you sleep?”

Jey shrugged, his face emotionless. “It doesn’t get better every night. It’s worse.”

Damian chewed thoughtfully, watching his friend. The weariness in Jey’s voice was undeniable. “And how are you feeling? Like, really?”

Jey’s shoulders sagged, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “I don’t know,” he muttered, staring into his coffee cup as if it held the answer to all his problems. “I’m just… here.”

Damian sighed, setting his sandwich down. “Bro, you can’t keep doing this. It’s not healthy. Staying cooped up in this room, day after day—it’s starting to take a toll.”

Jey didn’t respond at first, but he knew Damian was right. As much as he hated to admit it, the isolation, the endless waiting, it was all gnawing away at him. After a pause, he gave a small nod. “Yeah… I know.”

Just then, a nurse entered the room with an enormous bouquet of flowers, followed by another carrying an oversized teddy bear. Jey frowned at the sight of them, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “Just… put them down somewhere,” he muttered, motioning toward the already cramped space.

The nurses did as he asked and quietly left, leaving Jey and Damian alone again.

Jey stared at the flowers for a long moment before getting up to grab the card attached to the bouquet. He read it silently, his expression darkening with each word.

Rhea, I miss you. If you would have just stayed with me, you wouldn’t have tried to off yourself. You remember when we talked about having a kid? Talked about being the perfect family? I’ll forgive you being with Jey as long as you come back to me. I love you. I know you’re not thinking straight. Rhea, you will ALWAYS be my wife! Matt.

Jey’s hands began to tremble, his grip tightening on the card until it crumpled in his fist. His heart pounded in his chest, rage coursing through his veins. Without warning, he grabbed the bouquet and began tearing it apart, the thorns digging into his hands, causing blood to drip onto the white petals. But he didn’t stop—he couldn’t stop. The anger, the frustration, everything he had been holding inside finally exploded.

“Jey, stop!” Damian rushed over, trying to grab his arms, but Jey jerked away, his voice raw with emotion.

“Get off me!” Jey shouted, his breath ragged as he continued to destroy the flowers, his blood-streaked hands moving frantically. “He doesn’t get to say that! He doesn’t get to act like she’s still his!”

Damian backed off for a moment, unsure how to reach him. Jey’s rage was consuming him, and Damian didn’t know how to pull him back. But before he could try again, a nurse hurried in, alarmed by the commotion.

“Sir, you need to calm down,” the nurse said firmly, calling for backup. Two more nurses quickly entered, one carrying a medical kit while the other assessed the situation.

Damian stepped in, trying to intervene. “Jey, man, you gotta stop. This isn’t helping her.”

Jey’s breathing was heavy, his chest heaving as the blood dripped from his hands. His face was flushed with emotion, the pain and anger swirling together in his mind. The nurses cautiously approached, one of them speaking gently but with authority.

“Sir, if you don’t calm down, we’re going to have to ask you to leave,” the nurse warned, her tone professional but stern. “We can’t have this kind of outburst in here. It’s not safe for anyone.”

Those words seemed to cut through the fog of Jey’s rage. He paused, his shoulders slumping as the reality of the situation began to settle in. He didn’t want to be kicked out. He didn’t want to leave Rhea alone, especially not now.

Slowly, Jey lowered his bloodied hands, his chest still rising and falling heavily with each breath. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The nurses exchanged glances before moving forward to help. One of them gently took Jey by the arm, leading him to sit down while the other began cleaning and bandaging his hands. Jey didn’t resist, his energy completely drained now that the outburst had passed.

Damian stood by, watching with a mixture of concern and relief. He knew Jey was barely hanging on, and this was just one more crack in the dam that was about to break.

As the nurse finished tending to his hands, she gave Jey a gentle but serious look. “We’ll give you one more chance to stay calm, okay?”

Jey nodded weakly, his eyes distant as he stared at the floor, his mind a swirling storm of emotions. He knew he had to pull it together—for her. But as the weight of everything pressed down on him, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could keep it up.

Once Damian was certain that Jey had calmed down, he stood up from his chair and excused himself quietly. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured to Jey, who barely nodded in response, still lost in thought. Damian picked up the torn flowers and threw them in the trash, he grabbed the teddy bear and made his way out of the room, walking purposefully toward the nurses’ station.

The nurses looked up as Damian approached, concern still lingering in their eyes from the earlier incident. He offered them a grateful smile. “Thank you for helping us out with Jey. I know that was… a lot.”

One of the nurses, the one who had bandaged Jey’s hands, nodded sympathetically. “We understand. It’s a tough situation.”

Damian hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts before leaning in closer to speak quietly. “Listen, there’s something else I need to talk to you about. It’s about Demi—well, her ex-husband.” He glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one else was nearby before continuing. “His name is Matthew Adams, but he also goes by Buddy Matthews or sometimes just Matt Adams. If he sends any more flowers, or if he shows up trying to visit her, I need you to deny it. No contact. Under no circumstances should he be allowed near her.”

The nurses exchanged glances, understanding the seriousness of his request. The head nurse leaned in, her voice low but firm. “Is there a specific reason? We need to note something in her chart for security purposes.”

Damian took a deep breath, careful not to give away too much. “Demi’s been through a lot with him. He’s not safe for her, emotionally or physically. As of two weeks ago she is pressing charges on him for assault.”

The nurses nodded in unison, their expressions hardening with understanding. “We’ll make sure it’s in her chart,” one of them said, typing the information into the system. “No contact from anyone under those names—flowers, visits, anything.”

Damian sighed in relief. “Thank you. I appreciate it. This means a lot, not just to me but to her. Can you also get rid of this? I don’t know if you girls have kids but the teddy bear will do better to someone else than in the trash.”

“We’ll take care of it,” the nurse assured him. “And if anyone tries to bypass the rule, we’ll inform security right away.” One of the nurses grabbed the teddy bear from Damian, making a comment that she will give it to her daughter.

With that settled, Damian gave a small nod and made his way back toward Rhea’s room, the weight of responsibility still heavy on his shoulders but feeling a little more reassured that at least one more problem had been handled. As he walked back into the room, he found Jey sitting quietly, staring blankly at the TV screen but not really paying attention to what was on. Damian sat back down beside him, handing Jey his now-cold coffee.

“It’s done,” Damian said softly, as Jey looked over at him. “No more flowers. No more messages. He’s cut off.”

Jey’s shoulders sagged in relief, the tension finally easing just a little. “Thanks, man.”

Damian gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “Anything for you guys. You know that.”

—

3:18 PM

The afternoon light continue to filter into the hospital room, casting soft shadows as Jey and Damian sat with Rhea, mindlessly watching whatever was on the screen. The sound of explosions from some action movie echoed through the room, but neither of them paid much attention. It was more of a distraction than entertainment, something to fill the oppressive silence that had lingered for days now.

Rhea’s family had opted to stay back at Damian’s loft after her father started experiencing chest pains earlier that day. Her mother, always protective, insisted on keeping an eye on him. They wanted to be with Rhea, but her mom feared that her dad’s stress would only escalate if he was at the hospital. So, it was just Jey, Damian, and Rhea, the quiet hum of the TV filling the space around them.

A knock at the door broke the stillness.

Jey perked up, shifting slightly in his seat, while Damian gave a brief glance toward the door. They both looked a bit puzzled. It wasn’t time for a nurse check-in, and they weren’t expecting any more visitors today.

The door opened gently, and in peeked a man in a sharp suit. Julian Velasquez. The lawyer Rhea and Jey were assigned by WWE. He had a calm demeanor about him, a professional confidence that suited his role.

“Hey, Julian,” Jey said, rising to his feet and extending a hand.

Julian smiled as he stepped into the room, shaking Jey’s hand firmly before turning to Damian. “Good to see you again, Jey. Damian, right?”

Damian nodded, standing to shake his hand. “Yeah, thanks for coming by.”

Julian’s expression turned somber as he glanced at Rhea, still in her hospital bed, then back to the two men. “I’m so sorry for what’s happened. I hope she’s going to be okay. My girls love her..”

Jey nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “It’s a waiting game at this point.”

Julian nodded and set down a modest bouquet of flowers on the small ledge by the window. “These are from the firm. Nothing big, just a little something to brighten up the room.”

Damian offered a quiet thank you as Julian straightened his tie and opened his briefcase, pulling out a few folders.

“I wanted to talk to you both about something important,” Julian began, his tone shifting from empathetic to professional. “Before her… accident, Rhea and I had a conversation about her estate. This was about a week before everything happened. She made a decision that impacts both of you.”

Jey’s brow furrowed in confusion, glancing over at Damian before looking back at Julian. “What do you mean?”

Julian cleared his throat, unfolding the papers before him. “Rhea named both of you as co-executors of her estate.”

Jey blinked, taken aback. “Co-executors?”

Damian mirrored the confusion. “What exactly does that mean?”

Julian nodded, understanding their confusion. “Essentially, being named as co-executors means that both of you are responsible for managing Rhea’s affairs in the event she’s incapacitated, which… she currently is. This includes overseeing her finances, ensuring any legal matters are handled, and making decisions on her behalf.”

Jey felt a sinking feeling in his chest. He hadn’t even thought about the legal side of things—the estate, finances, or anything else. All he cared about was Rhea waking up and being okay. “But… why us? She has her family.”

Julian smiled softly. “She trusted you both. She believed that you would make the best decisions for her in the event something happened. She didn’t want her family burdened with everything, especially with how stressful things have been for them. She felt you two would have her back, no matter what.”

Damian scratched the back of his head, looking between Jey and Julian. “Okay, but… what does that mean for right now? What do we actually need to do?”

“Well, for starters,” Julian continued, “Rhea has a court appearance scheduled regarding the assault case against Matthew Adams. The judge has already been informed of her condition, but the court still requires someone to be present on her behalf. Since you’re co-executors, either one of you will need to attend.”

Jey shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around everything. “So… one of us has to go to Florida for this court appearance? When is it?”

“In two weeks,” Julian answered. “I’ll be there, of course, but the court requires someone with legal authority to represent her estate. That’s where you two come in.”

Jey stared at the floor for a moment, processing it all. His mind was still so fixated on Rhea waking up that he hadn’t even considered the implications of the legal proceedings against Matt. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him.

“I’ll go,” Jey finally said, his voice quiet but resolute.

Damian looked over at him, a little surprised. “You sure? I can handle it if you don’t feel up to it.”

Jey shook his head. “No, I’ve got this. I want to be there for her. I need to be.”

Julian gave a small nod, closing his briefcase. “Alright. I’ll keep you updated with the details as we get closer. And if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out. We’ll get through this, one step at a time.”

Jey sighed, running a hand through his hair as he glanced back at Rhea. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

Julian offered one more reassuring smile before taking his leave, leaving Jey and Damian alone in the quiet room once more. The weight of their new responsibility lingered heavily in the air, and though neither of them said it aloud, they knew they were in this together—for Rhea, for her future, and for whatever came next.

—

Before Damian knew it, the clock had already struck 8 PM. He stretched in his chair, his muscles stiff from sitting in the same position for hours, then glanced over at Jey. “You want anything from the bodega across the street? I can grab something for dinner.”

Jey didn’t even think twice, his stomach growling in response. “Yeah, man. Whatever you recommend, but make sure the it is a hefty portion,” he said with a tired chuckle. “This hospital food ain’t cutting it anymore.”

Damian gave a knowing nod and got up, grabbing his wallet and keys. “I got you. I’ll be back soon.”

As Damian left the room, the soft sound of his footsteps disappearing down the hallway, Jey turned his focus back to Rhea. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her face serene despite everything they had been through. Jey sighed, his heart heavy, but there was a warmth that always filled him when he was next to her. He reached over, gently taking her hand in his, lifting it to his lips as he kissed her knuckles, his eyes closing for a moment.

A memory washed over him, pulling him back to a time that felt like it had happened both yesterday and a lifetime ago.

They had been in a hotel room, lying on the bed after a long day on the road. Their heads were touching, but their bodies were reversed, sprawled across the bed as they both scrolled through their phones. Jey had his Bluetooth speaker playing softly in the background, the music a soothing hum in the dimly lit room.

The song playing ended, and then Alicia Keys’ You Don’t Know My Name began to fill the air. Jey’s face lit up at the familiar intro, and he turned his head to look at Rhea, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“This right here? This is real music,” Jey had said, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.

Rhea glanced over at him, a little smirk playing on her lips. “I don’t know this one.”

Jey shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “What? Nah, you gotta listen to the words.” He turned up the volume a little and started to sing along to the verse, his voice low and smooth, effortlessly matching the vibe of the song.

“I see us on our first date, you’re doing everything that makes me smile…”

Rhea’s smile widened as she listened to him sing, the meaning of the lyrics slowly sinking in. Her eyes softened, and she turned onto her side, propping her head up with her hand as she watched him with that look she always gave him when he made her heart flutter.

Jey, still singing, leaned closer, his voice deepening as he sang the iconic line. “You don’t know my name…”

Rhea’s laughter bubbled up as she reached for his shirt, tugging him toward her. Jey laughed along, his hand finding its way to her waist as he let himself be pulled in. The mood was light, intimate, perfect.

With a grin, Jey pushed a loose strand of Rhea’s hair behind her ear, his hand lingering as he cupped her face gently. The song continued to play, but all Jey could focus on was the way she looked at him. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow, savoring the moment like he did every time their lips touched.

Rhea broke the kiss first, her hand reaching up to touch his face, her fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. She gazed into his eyes, her voice soft and almost fragile as she whispered, “What are you doing to me?”

Jey’s smile was tender, his heart swelling in his chest. He kissed the palm of her hand, his answer simple but full of meaning. “I’m loving you…”

Rhea’s lips curled into a small, shy smile, and she pulled him in for another kiss, this one deeper, more intense. Jey smiled against her lips, feeling her warmth, her love, in every touch, in every breath they shared.

Back in the hospital room, Jey opened his eyes slowly, the memory fading but leaving behind a bittersweet ache in his chest. He squeezed Rhea’s hand gently, brushing his thumb over her knuckles.

“I’m still loving you,” he whispered softly, his voice barely audible, but the weight of his words hung in the air.

The hospital room was awash in sterile quiet, the air thick with tension as the machines hummed and beeped with mechanical precision. The ventilator’s steady rhythm was a constant reminder of the delicate hold Rhea had on life.

Now, silence surrounded him, suffocating and heavy and twenty minutes had passed… as if time was important in these moments.

Jey sighed deeply, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, lingering as he whispered, “Come back to me, baby.”

And then—there it was.

A flicker. Barely noticeable. But enough.

Her fingers twitched beneath his touch.

His heart nearly stopped, his eyes snapping to her hand. “Rhea?” he whispered, raw hope coursing through him. He leaned closer, searching her face, desperate for any sign that she was coming back.

Her eyelids fluttered, a brief, jerky motion, and Jey’s breath caught in his throat. It was small—almost nothing—but it was something.

“Rhea, it’s me. Can you hear me?”

Her fingers twitched again, and Jey stood, gripping her hand tighter as he watched her eyes slowly, painfully begin to open. Confusion clouded her gaze, disoriented as she tried to comprehend her surroundings.

But then her breathing changed.

Her chest started to heave, the mechanical rise and fall of the ventilator clashing with her own panicked attempt to breathe against it. The endotracheal tube lodged in her throat was designed to assist her breathing but now felt like a choking hazard to her. Her eyes widened, filled with fear, and her body jerked, instinctively fighting the foreign object.

“Hey, hey, Rhea, it’s okay,” Jey said quickly, his voice rising in alarm as he stood by her side, squeezing her hand. “You’re in the hospital. That tube is helping you breathe. You’re okay.”

But she couldn’t hear him—not really. Panic overtook her body, her heart rate spiking as the monitor beeped erratically in response. Her eyes darted around the room, wild with confusion and terror, as her body thrashed weakly against the bed.

“Sir, you need to step back,” a nurse said firmly as she rushed in, her demeanor professional yet urgent.

Jey shook his head, refusing to let go. “No, I can help her—just let me stay—”

Before he could finish, more nurses entered, moving to restrain Rhea’s arms as she struggled. “We need to stabilize her,” one nurse said sharply, her eyes scanning the monitors. “Her heart rate is in the tachycardia range, and we need to get her calm.”

One nurse quickly assessed Rhea’s vitals while another prepared a sedative to help manage her anxiety. “Rhea, I know this is frightening,” the nurse said, her voice soothing. “We’re going to help you. Just breathe with us.”

Jey felt his heart racing as he watched Rhea fight against the very machine that was keeping her alive. “Rhea, look at me,” he called out, his voice cracking. “It’s going to be okay. I’m right here!”

The nurse administered the sedative through Rhea’s IV line, hoping to help her calm down as the others continued to monitor her vitals. Rhea’s body jerked one last time before her movements slowed, her breathing becoming less erratic as the medication took effect.

“Her heart rate is stabilizing,” the nurse said, her voice quieter now, more measured. “She’s calming down, but we still need to keep her intubated until she can breathe on her own without distress.”

Jey’s breath escaped him in a shaky rush, and he sagged against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving Rhea. Her body had relaxed, her eyes now closed, her breathing once again synced with the ventilator’s steady rhythm.

“She’s still too weak to be extubated,” the nurse said, turning to Jey with a sympathetic look. “Her body isn’t ready yet. We’ll keep monitoring her closely.”

Jey nodded wordlessly, the fear still clinging to him like a shadow. He felt Damian’s presence beside him, strong and steady. “What just happened?” Damian asked, concern etched on his face.

“She woke up,” Jey whispered, his voice hoarse. “But she panicked… She was fighting the ventilator.”

Damian’s face fell as he listened, and he placed a hand on Jey’s shoulder. “She’ll wake up again, Jey. She will.”

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” Jey admitted, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. “What if this is it? What if she doesn’t come back?”

Jey walked away from Damian, feeling the walls closing in around him. He stepped into the sterile hallway, his heart heavy with fear and doubt. As he wandered through the labyrinth of the hospital, he felt a desperate need to escape the chaos, to find some solace in the midst of it all.

Eventually, he found himself standing before a small chapel tucked away in a quiet corner of the hospital. The door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open, stepping inside. The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the walls, and a hush enveloped him.

Jey sank into a pew, his heart aching as he bowed his head. “Please,” he whispered into the stillness, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Bring her back to me.”

The chapel stood silent, its air thick with the weight of unspoken prayers and flickering candlelight. Jey’s eyes were locked on the statue of God, a figure of stone that seemed to loom over him, cold and unyielding. Each flicker of the candles cast shadows that danced across the walls, but they provided no warmth against the chill that settled deep in his bones. His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless rhythm that matched the swell of rage and despair bubbling to the surface.

“Is this my punishment for loving Rhea?” he yelled, his voice cracking as he approached the statue, desperation clawing at his throat. His hands shot up in frustration, palms open as if to surrender to the heavens. “What did I do to deserve this?”

He began to pace, each step heavy with the burden of his anguish. Memories of Rhea flooded his mind—her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled, the warmth of her touch. Each recollection was a bittersweet reminder of what he could lose. “You already took Julie away! Now you’re going to take Rhea?” The pain of his daughter’s loss twisted like a knife in his heart, the agony feeling fresh as if it had just happened yesterday.

With every word, his voice grew louder, filled with anger and sorrow. “What do you want from me? Why put her in my path if you don’t want me with her? Why give me a glimpse of happiness only to snatch it away? Why?”

The chapel’s stillness bore witness to his torment, and with each desperate plea, his pacing intensified, the desperation morphing into anger and despair. The weight of his emotions felt unbearable, as if he were trapped beneath a mountain of grief. Suddenly, he couldn’t hold it together any longer. He crumbled to the floor, the cold stone pressing against him as he let the tears flow freely, the sobs erupting from him like a dam bursting. His cries echoed in the chapel, a raw sound of heartbreak and defeat.

“Take me instead!” he pleaded, his voice hoarse and cracked as he looked up at the statue, hands still raised in supplication. “Don’t take her! Take me! I can’t bear this pain anymore!” The words spilled from him, each one a desperate plea into the void, a challenge to whatever deity controlled his fate.

And then, in the midst of his brokenness, a soft voice emerged, almost ethereal. “Dad.”

Jey’s head shot up, his breath hitching as he turned. There stood Julie, his miscarried daughter, her figure bathed in a soft glow. She wore a simple white gown that flowed around her like light, her hair shimmering as if spun from moonlight. The sight of her made his heart ache anew, and he felt both joy and devastation crashing together in a wave of emotion.

“Julie?” His heart ached, tears streaming down his face. Her presence felt like a dream, yet the pain in his chest was all too real. “Is this really you?”

“You have to be strong,” she said gently, her voice like a whisper in the wind. “You cannot say things like this… you’re making it harder on yourself.” Her words were soothing yet firm, a reminder that he needed to hold on, even as everything around him crumbled.

Jey shook his head, the weight of her words pressing down on him. “I lost you,” he sobbed, anguish spilling from his lips like blood from a wound. “I lost Rhea. At this point, just take me too…”

He reached out, desperate to hold her, but his hand passed through hers as if she were made of mist. The emptiness clawed at him, and he cried harder, feeling utterly shattered. “I’m broken,” he admitted, his voice cracking, the sorrow spilling out uncontrollably.

Julie’s expression softened, her gaze drifting to the statue behind her before turning back to Jey. “Sing it…”

“What do you mean?” Jey sniffled, confusion clouding his mind. Her presence felt real yet so far removed from the pain he was experiencing. For a moment, he thought if he was truly going crazy..

“You’re not going crazy,” she reassured him, as if sensing his doubt. “Just sing it. Remember.”

“Remember what?” he asked, frustration mixing with grief.

“Mom. What she meant to you…” she said, her eyes shining with encouragement, urging him to remember the bond they shared.

The words struck a chord deep within him, and Jey felt a flicker of something—an ember of hope amidst the darkness. He looked at Julie, determination rising within him. “Young and Beautiful…” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper, the melody haunting and beautiful, a bittersweet reminder of what they had lost.

With renewed urgency, Jey bolted from the chapel, the image of his daughter lingering in his mind. He dashed through the corridors of the hospital, his heart racing as he raced toward Rhea’s room. Each step felt heavy, yet fueled by the memory of his daughter and the love he held for Rhea.

He pushed the door open with urgency, and the sight that met him broke him anew.

Damian sat in a chair beside Rhea’s bed, tears streaming down his face as he held Rhea’s limp hand in his own. The sight struck Jey like a punch to the gut, a gut-wrenching reminder of the fragility of life. “Get out!” he shouted, his voice a mixture of desperation and fury, the raw emotion spilling from him like an open wound.

Damian looked up, confusion etched across his features. “Jey, what—?”

“Get out!” Jey repeated, his voice breaking as he felt a primal need to protect Rhea, to be there for her, and he couldn’t stand the sight of anyone else in that moment.

As Jey’s wild gaze bore into him, Damian sensed the deranged look in Jey’s eyes and slowly stood up, backing away with his hands raised. “Okay, man. I’m just… I’m just outside if you need me.”

Jey barely registered Damian leaving as he moved to Rhea’s side, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling his lungs. He grasped her hand tightly, feeling the warmth of her skin against his, the gentle rise and fall of her chest—fragile, yet still there. “I’m here, Rhea,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he fought to hold back his own tears. “I won’t give up on you. I’ll fight for you. Just… come back to me.”

His eyes roamed over her pale face, the tubes and wires connecting her to the machines that beeped and hummed around them. The sight twisted in his gut, but he couldn’t look away. He remembered their moments together, the laughter, the love, the promise of a future that now felt so distant.

In that moment, Jey knew he had to find his way back to hope, no matter how far he had to go.

Jey’s heart raced as he rifled through his phone’s playlist, searching for the song that had just come to him in a moment of desperation. It felt like a wild, reckless idea, but he was ready to grasp at any hope he could find. He had lost so much—his daughter, his peace, and the love of his life. What did he have left to lose?

Finally, he found it. With trembling fingers, he selected the track and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. This was more than just a song; it was a plea, a lifeline, a connection to Rhea that he desperately needed. He grabbed one of the AirPods and carefully placed it in Rhea’s ear, then took the other for himself. He felt a flicker of hope as he pressed play, willing the music to reach her, to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.

The soft notes of the song began to fill the room, wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Jey’s chest heaved with anticipation and fear. “Come on, Rhea,” he whispered, almost pleading with the universe. “Please come back to me.”

The song started slow, and Jey felt a knot of doubt tighten in his stomach. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this. But he had nothing left to lose. The love he felt for Rhea surged within him, a force powerful enough to drown out the uncertainty. He took a deep breath, and despite knowing he wouldn’t hit every note, he began to sing.

“I’ve seen the world, done it all, had my cake now

Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel Air now

Hot summer nights, mid-July

When you and I were forever wild…”

Jey poured everything into each word, his voice shaky but filled with raw emotion. He didn’t care if he sang horribly; all that mattered was that he was fighting for Rhea. His soulmate. His everything. He thought of the moments they had shared, the laughter, the late-night talks, the love that had burned so brightly between them.

“Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will

Will you still love me when I’m no longer beautiful?”

With every line, he felt his heart crack open wider, letting all the love and pain pour out into the melody. Each note was a desperate promise, a vow that he would love her through every storm, every heartache, every moment of doubt. He was fighting for her life, for their future together, and he was willing to do whatever it took to bring her back.

Then, just as he reached the chorus, he felt it—a twitch in Rhea’s finger. Hope surged through him like wildfire, igniting something deep within. He continued to sing, his voice rising with newfound energy, the words carrying his prayers to the heavens.

“Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven

Please let me bring my woman

When she comes, tell me that you’ll let her in

Father, tell me if you can

All that grace, all that body

All that face makes me wanna party

She’s my sun, she makes me shine like diamonds…”

And then it happened. As the last note of the verse lingered in the air, Rhea’s eyelids fluttered open slowly. Jey’s heart stopped, and for a brief moment, he couldn’t believe his eyes. She didn’t freak out; she didn’t recoil. Instead, their gazes locked, and time seemed to stand still.

“Rhea…” he breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper, filled with disbelief and hope. He gently pushed a strand of hair back from her forehead, brushing his fingers against her warm skin. He couldn’t hear her voice, but he felt the intensity of their connection radiate between them, filling the room with unspoken words and love.

In that precious moment, everything else faded away—the beeping machines, the sterile smell of antiseptic, the world outside their little bubble. It was just the two of them, and Jey felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude wash over him.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and nurses rushed in, their expressions a mix of surprise and urgency. “What just happened?” one of the nurses exclaimed, glancing at Rhea. “She shouldn’t be awake yet; we just sedated her!”

Another nurse quickly called for the doctor, her voice brisk and professional as they scrambled to assess the situation. Jey remained rooted by Rhea’s side, his heart pounding in his chest, desperately trying to hold on to the moment they had just shared.

Damian stood nearby, watching the scene unfold. As the nurses hurriedly moved around the room, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight before him. Jey and Rhea, against all odds, had found a way back to each other. It was clear to him—they were meant to be.

Jey continued to gaze into Rhea’s eyes, trying to convey everything he felt without words. The love, the fear, the hope. Each emotion coursed through him, and in return, he saw the flicker of recognition in Rhea’s gaze.

The chaos around them melted away, leaving only the power of their connection, binding them together in a way that felt unbreakable. Jey’s heart swelled as he realized that Rhea had fought her way back to him, and he would do everything in his power to keep her by his side.

As the doctor arrived and the nurses began their assessments, Jey held Rhea’s hand tightly, refusing to let go. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together. Because in that moment, love had triumphed over despair, and nothing would ever come between them again.

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btsmosphere · 6 months ago

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 7: Spark to Life

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: “We don't have time to argue” “No, we don't”

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 5.3k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, weapons, dangerous driving

a/n: exciting notice! (maybe lol) the next chapter is pretty short, but it really was the best place to break up my chapters - so, as a result I will be posting it in the middle of this week! that's right, this coming week will bring two whole supercharged updates! first on Wednesday, and again on the regular Sunday😊see you then!!

For some days, the occasional crackling voices from that speaker accompanied your life when the boys were away.

Of course, you relished the time they did spend at home. Even though they were busy training in most of their free time, and out late on missions, they would come and chat with you while they made breakfast, or came to rest and watch some tv.

To them, it probably appeared that nothing was different between you and Jungkook. Whenever they were home, he took the chance to train with them. You knew he missed them now they were out so much without him. Anyone would have noticed as much, given the way he hovered around the receiver, always staying up after you slipped quietly to bed.

But once the house emptied, the smiling Jimin, raucous laughter of Hope or the fond smiles of Yoongi would be replaced by the stony silence of Jungkook.

Somehow, you were growing used to it.

Either that, or you would be firing comments between each other, no longer sure if it counted as fighting or having a conversation. Anything to fill up the silence.

You trained more too, your powers’ strength returning slowly even in the course of a week. And since that night, a sort of ritual had begun at dinner. Of course, you would have chosen anyone else’s company over Jungkook’s, but you had to make do. You would cook something simple, ordering him to chop up ingredients at the very least while he complained (“if you’re just going to criticise me, do it yourself!”). To this, you would remind him that he wanted to eat the food, did he not?

If anything, it was a cathartic vengeance for the power he held in the training rooms.

But anytime the receiver blared into life, the two of you would fall quickly into silence, drinking in every word, even the shortest exchange, of the boys which were out who-knows-where.

Tonight was one of those times. The two of you were sitting across from each other as always, beginning to eat.

The radio sparking to life cut off your conversation. Jungkook put his chopsticks down completely, turning his attention towards it. It was Jimin’s voice.

“Did anyone else see that?”

“I did. Hold on, I’ll go check it out,” Hobi replied.

Then an order from Namjoon.

“Yoongi, go with him.”

You continued staring at the small device even while no more exchanges could be heard. That wasn’t the usual stuff they talked about. Normally, it was just routine things, checking up on each other and confirming what they had planned.

But it was probably nothing. It was presumably quite a feat that they hadn’t come across any sort of difficulty in all the missions so far, and this would prove to be a false alarm or easily dealt with. You had seen what the boys were capable of, after all – just Hobi and Yoongi by themselves could be lethal.

That didn’t stop you from hanging on expectantly, though.

At last, the silence was broken. But not by what you had hoped.

“Guys? What can you see?”

Namjoon’s question was met with no reply. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the small radio, breath captive in your lungs.

Then, a jarring noise leapt like lightning from the speaker, making both you and Jungkook flinch. High-pitched, grating feedback, it faded almost instantly, but the scar it had torn in the previously peaceful kitchen remained.

Frozen to your seat, your food was well and truly forgotten as you heard Jin chime in next.

“Guys, get out of there.”

Namjoon’s trust in his right-hand man was evident, no hint of question in his voice as he reverted orders.

“Code two, hide the target and evacuate-”

“Yeah, we might have a problem with that,” Jimin cut him off.

A loud boom was audible, despite the limits of the small receiver that reduced it to white noise. Once again, it cut off.

It was then you realised Jungkook was on his feet. He snatched the radio from its spot on the counter.

“Stay here,” he said, back already retreating.

A second later, you were dashing after him. Reaching his side, you both shoved shoes on.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook glared at you with absolute incredulity, frown etched in his face. He didn’t even leave time to stare you down, however, already pushing past you and all but running down the front stairs.

You followed just as fast.

“I’m coming with you. They’re in trouble.”

“Which is exactly why I’m telling you to stay here,” he spat over his shoulder.

His foot tapped restlessly as the large front door slid open. The moment he had enough space to pass through, he was marching into the expansive garage, with you hot on his heels.

“I can help,” you argued.

Jungkook wove between the cars and stopped by a motorcycle. Turning to you, his face was set, frame livid and glare fierce while he dug harshly in his pocket for the keys.

“We don’t have time to argue.”

His tone was firm, clearly infuriated.

Just then, another concerning explosion crackled through the radio, standing your hair on end.

Stepping forwards, you swung your leg over the back of the motorbike and stared challengingly up at him.

“No. We don’t.”

The sound he let out bordered on a growl, but the next moment he had situated himself on the front of the bike, and a roaring filled the air as it shuddered into life beneath you. Left with virtually no time to react as he pulled away, you were forced to cling to the man in front of you.

With your arms thrown around him, you felt him stiffen under your touch. But then he was urging the bike forwards, and not a second later wind collided with your face as you shot from the base and into the night. The rapidly increasing speed left you to shelter your face in the back of his neck.

The cacophony in your ears and the rush of air that tugged your hair behind you should have alerted you that Jungkook was disregarding basically all existing traffic laws.

But you couldn’t care less.

With the blur of city lights whizzing past you, all you could think of was the speed with which you could reach the boys. The streets were fairly empty, but cars were dotted here and there. Probably cut some up, judging by the blaring horns at one intersection.

Thundering onto a wider street streaked with neon, your eyes fell on a billboard. As you sped towards it, the picture cut to purple fire and rubble, a live news banner scrolling along the bottom.

Then it was gone again, Jungkook guiding the bike around the corner and through more city streets.

The images set your head spinning, all the more restless on the back of the bike the longer you were helpless to do anything but wait for Jungkook to get you there. How was he going to find them? You hadn’t even been told where they were going. They hadn’t bothered you with mission details ever since you and Jungkook had been stood down-

“Almost there!” Jungkook’s yell was barely audible over the wind.

“Wait, how can you-”

“They’re protecting something called the Razer. Their plan B was to stash this weapon in some underground parking lot. You head down there, I’ll help fight them off. Looks like they were ambushed.”

“How do you know all this?” you finally made yourself heard.

“I snuck into Namjoon’s office, okay? I saw the plans,” he called back. “When we get there… you might have to fry this thing. It can’t fall into their hands, better that we destroy it altogether.”

You had no time to muster a reply before the bike was swinging around a corner and skidding to a halt.

At the end of this street, the sky was lit up. Purple fire blazed, just like on the billboard, but this time it was real, licking into the sky from the wreckage of a building on the corner. Other beams of light flashed, shocks of red and luminous white smattering the fronts of the buildings.

You got no more than a glimpse of a few figures silhouetted against this backdrop before Jungkook pulled you down to shelter behind the bike.

A hand on your shoulder keeping you in place, he peered over the top of the bike before returning his gaze to you.

“The building that’s been destroyed, the Razer should be in there. You should be able to make a way through the rubble. You’ll know when you see it. Do you remember training the other day?”

Trying to take in his instructions, you nodded.

“Use as much force as you can to overload it, like we practised. Should fry the weapon’s circuits.”

“Okay,” you muttered, taking a glance over the bike again. The street was littered with people, but no one seemed to have noticed your arrival.

“Y/N, they don’t know about you,” Jungkook’s voice recaptured your attention. “I’ll join the fight. It’ll distract them and buy you some time, hopefully give the others a chance to turn the tide as well. Don’t use your powers until you have to.”

He stood then, preparing to move around the bike and head into the fray.

His step faltered before he could go further.

When he turned back, a ray of gold flickered in his eyes.

“And Y/N… be careful. This weapon… if it strikes you, it can strip you of your power.”

Your eyes were locked for a long moment, his words sending a bolt of cold fear straight to your heart.

He took a breath, but said nothing more. An instant later, he was gone, the intensity of his eyes now no more than a mirage, quickly vanishing in your memory.

There was no time to agonise over it. Nor was there time to reconcile the implications of this fight, your first mission – your priorities turned to the weapon that was now in the open far from safe hands.

A flash of gold split through the night, sparks reflected in the bike’s mirrors.

Sucking in a lungful of air, you shuffled around the front wheel, slowly leaning out. Another blinding burst of gold showed you the outline of Jungkook, golden light firing him into the air. Sparks flew as he collided, wrestling, with someone halfway up a building.

The next moment, their figures plummeted to the ground.

Jungkook was the one who stood up again, the other staying motionless.

However, you weren’t here to watch. There was no time to stick around here. By now, others had noticed the newcomer to the fight; figures advancing your way down the street prompted you to get moving.

Ducking slightly, you picked your moment and sprinted the short distance from the bike to the edge of the street, flattening yourself against brick before checking no one had seen you.

All that greeted you were warring lights and the blur of fighting, backlit by the ever-raging fire.

Confident in being unnoticed, you sparked to life again, taking off on light feet in the opposite direction to the fighting. You raced around the corner to the neighbouring road, which was totally devoid of Bolt’s minions.

Judging by the short glimpses you had garnered so far, you guessed the group that had ambushed your friends were decked out with Bolt’s stolen goods – and were out for more. But you had no real idea how many of them had powers or not.

Or, come to think of it, how many of them there were at all.

All that mattered, though, was that there weren’t enough to have found you yet. You had run the length of the street, slowing as you reached the corner where the ruined parking lot stood.

Pressing your back against the wall, you edged around to peer at the damage. The fire was brighter here, making you squint. A few shapes darted in and out of view on the other side of the flames, but this side was still deserted.

This had to be it. Somewhere among this destruction was the weapon which had caused so much trouble.

Sheltered from view by V’s vibrant flames, you approached as close as you dared until you stood right in front of the rubble. You clambered over a few smaller chunks of concrete before you decided to begin.

With one more look around for security, you breathed deeply and raised your hands, palms only a hair away from a large block that used to form part of a wall, but now lay at your feet.

Biting your tongue, you finally let your powers out.

Remembering Jungkook’s words, you focussed on broadening the scope of your power, letting as much flow from your fingertips as possible. Blue bloomed in front of your eyes. A second later, the boulder began to glow the same hue.

Gritting your teeth, you propelled even more of your power downwards. For a moment, the rock resisted, only growing brighter blue. Then all at once, it gave way with a splintering sound that was swallowed up by the roaring of the fire.

With the sudden caving, you stumbled forwards, supressing your powers hurriedly to hide any light that would give you away. Just before you could trip into the gap revealed by the destruction of the rubble, you caught yourself with a hand on the ruptured concrete edge.

The fire did little to light up the dark space that now gaped below you.

Crouching, you peered carefully around. After a moment, your eyes had adjusted enough to reveal a concrete staircase, shrouded in the debris from the collapsed wall.

You shifted closer until you could lower yourself over the edge. Holding onto the remains of the wall, you dropped down onto the stairway.

It was seriously dark down here. To continue, you had to summon a small ball of light. Blue hovered above your palm, helping you pick through the dust and bricks that littered the ground from the building’s collapse.

On the plus side, it was utterly empty. You were clearly the first one to break through to this part, so you pushed ahead, following the stairs down as per Jungkook’s instructions. The plan had been to hide it underground.

Further on, you found the base of the staircase drowned in another pile of rubble. A larger slab encroached, looming from where it had been dislodged from the ceiling, lowering the height of the space. You didn’t dare try to move that one, however, almost certain that it was keeping a larger amount of debris from filling this corridor entirely.

Ducking quickly under that, you shot through a couple of smaller pieces before you could see a way through.

Not wanting to shift more stone than you had to, you wriggled through the gap you had created. The other side was lit with a wavering yellow light, making the stairs’ shadow flicker. A few more steps led down before you finally found the end to the enclosed space.

A blank corridor led to a door which hung off its hinges. Pausing when you reached it, a bigger, equally blank space opened out in front of you.

Though a small part of the ceiling had caved in the opposite corner, a pile of rubble collected there, the intact state of the walls told you that you were finally below ground level. The space was wide, but heavy with the oppressive air of industrial parking towers, walls strewn with graffiti. Artificial lights flickered in the corner of your vision.

The lights quivered even more as a loud boom ricocheted through the space.

That confirmed you were heading in the right direction, at least. Taking off running, you skidded through the next doorway and were instantly greeted with chaos.

Purple flickered and danced along the opposite wall – although you weren’t sure there was a real wall there at all. In front of this barrier of his own making, V was silhouetted.

Before submerging yourself in the waves of heat the large fire was throwing off, you took a breath. You couldn’t make out any enemies in the gaps between the flames, the light too dim and distorted by the blaze, but V shot another burst of flame as you watched. Your eyes were too dazzled to see if it had hit someone.

“V!” you called, hurrying to his side.

He turned with a jolt, arms still raised. Stopping in your tracks at his abrupt movement, you watched his eyes cloud with recognition.

Slowly, he lowered his palms.

“…How?”

You filled in the blanks of his low, startled question easily. How did you get here?

“No one followed me, I promise,” you stepped closer, “we heard you on the radio. We need to destroy that weapon.”

Nodding, V shifted his eyes furtively around before they landed on the only intact door in the place.

“There- mmph!”

V raised an arm to point, but was suddenly thrown in that direction himself.

“V!” you cried, crouching to his side, but your eyes were scanning the flame.

Hissing, V rolled over, clutching at his side which had been struck with… something. It wasn’t the same thing that had hurt him last time, but you knew the weapons Bolt was using were anything but friendly.

“Go… destroy...” he urged you, though the following groan of pain made you hesitate.

Gulping, you looked helplessly between V, who was struggling back to his feet, and the doorway he had shown you. Just as he stumbled upright, both of your attention was snatched by a figure breaking through the flames.

They had an arm over their face, grimacing at the heat, but they lifted their weapon blindly anyway.

You dived to the floor, scurrying away from the round of bullets strewn about the space.

Before either of you could retaliate, a shot of gold pierced the purple veil, sending the attacker flying. As the shots ceased, you caught sight of a silhouette you recognised darting behind the column of fire.

“Go!” V shouted again.

Meeting his eyes, you steeled yourself with a breath. While you wanted to stay and help against those enemies trying to break through the fire to get to V, with Jungkook to contend with on the other side as well, they were surrounded.

Now it was up to you.

You had found yourself with your back against the very door you needed to go through. Spinning, you wrenched it open to be met with another descending staircase. The lights had gone out totally here, but there was no time to waste.

Plunging into the darkness with nothing but your own light to guide you, you felt the temperature drop. Your skin was clammy, sweat from the heat above now clinging icily to your face, but you weren’t hanging about.

Feet finally finding flat ground, you looked around urgently until you caught sight of a shape ahead.

It was a large box, black so it nearly blended in with the darkness. Scrabbling to get to the weapon within, you easily blasted aside the simple metal fastenings.

On opening it, bright light startled your eyes once more. A clear sphere filled with what looked like bolts of lightning formed the centre of the device. The surrounding parts containing it were white, clearly a prototype, and resembled a gun.

Already feeling your powers bubbling up, you didn’t hesitate to place your hands on the spherical centre. A tingle flew up your spine.

Refusing to let fear get to you now, even with the knowledge of what this thing could do, you continued to push until your powers spilled from your fingertips. Blue lightning skittered over the glass surface, caging the still writhing light within.

Glowing brighter and brighter as you expelled more power, you began to feel something. Like the time in training when Jungkook had connected your powers and you had felt his golden electricity – except this, this was cold.

The glass shattered between your hands, noise and light smothering your senses as you were thrown backwards.

Your back met concrete, your own gasps heavy in your ears.

The cold was still there.

Blinking rapidly, you grappled to hold onto your powers, keep them flowing. Squinting into the brightness surrounding you, you found a brilliant white light had sprung from the weapon’s casing, seemingly latched onto your own powers.

Fear jolted through you. The light, whatever its power, was pushing back, trying to devour your own.

You had been trained for this. But – and you would never repeat this – you longed for Jungkook in that moment. The safety of the training room, and the usual guarantee of coming out alive, had all fallen away.

It was just you. Alone.

But there was a fight raging above you, all for this thing. You had to do this: for Yoongi and Hobi who could be anywhere right now. Hurt, bleeding? For Jin and Namjoon, wanting to come out on top. Jimin, fighting for V who was penned into the parking lot defending you.

And for Jungkook.

You had been trained for this.

Adrenaline buzzing in your veins, you pushed yourself up from the floor, power swelling in your chest. Letting it out completely, it charged through your veins until it was spitting sparks in the air, jaws gnashing against the blazing white that threatened to devour it.

One foot forwards.

The white lightning squirmed, as if trying to shake you off. You never relented. Blue advanced steadily from your hands until it was all that could be seen.

Breaking point. You kept up the pressure, feeling the last bit of resistance from the weapon-

Crack.

Upstairs, the fire V had lit was buffeted as if hit by a powerful gust of wind. Disturbed anew, blocks shifted in the rubble, pebbles raining to earth. The opponent Jungkook had been fighting was swept clean from their feet, his golden light harmlessly striking the wall behind the spot where they had just stood.

But as the enemy was forced to the floor, Jungkook’s attention was already elsewhere. Struggling to stay standing through the shockwave, he staggered back a few paces before he could turn towards the fire. The way you had gone.

The ground seemed to settle again, the blast leaving silence in its wake.

The first sound was his feet pounding on the floor. Striding right over the fighters lying on the ground, uncaring whether they were dead or alive, skirting around the fire they had been attempting to cross seconds ago.

None of Bolt’s pathetic followers attempted to stop Jungkook. They couldn’t deny the meaning of that explosion – the thing they were after was destroyed.

Normally, he might stay, try to stop them fleeing. As it was, he didn’t stand between them and their retreat, instead sprinting towards the source of the commotion.

V had kept his guard up, still eyeing the fire for movement with dark eyes. He caught Jungkook’s eyes as the younger stopped in front of him, eyes wide and panicked.

V turned.

Following his gaze, Jungkook found a doorway. Behind the open door was consuming darkness, still and silent.

You were in there.

His feet were moving again, steps turning to strides as he picked up speed, only to nearly trip over himself as he got closer.

You rushed up the stairway, catching yourself on the doorframe. Leaning against it, you panted for breath, but an exhilarated smile never left your features.

As your breathing calmed, you looked around into the car park. Eyes meeting Jungkook’s, you straightened up a little.

His mouth hung slightly agape. He had expected you to crawl from there bleeding, if the shockwave had been anything to go by. And for him to be the one that sent you down there-

“I did it!” you exclaimed.

Blinking rapidly, he clocked how long he must have been staring in shock.

Nodding, he hurriedly shuffled around in pretence of checking the area like V.

“Good. I almost didn’t think you were going to be any help.”

You had no time to decipher his comment before V cast a sharp gaze over the two of you. His usual silence had taken hold again, but Jungkook seemed to understand him.

“We need to move.”

Striding away purposefully, V left you two to scramble after him. Jungkook threw one more skittish glance at you, but quickly turned his eyes away to march after V.

The fire’s heat grew in intensity as you neared, smothering. V waved a hand and a gap opened up, the glaring purple giving way to pure darkness beyond. Hurrying through, you panted gratefully in the cool night air. Even among the rush of your battle downstairs, you felt a bit wobbly from the strain.

Leaving the fire blazing behind you without a care, your trio scaled the wreckage, this side of the building being the main victim of the destruction. The landslide of rubble sloped upwards, your path weaving between motionless figures, slumped in gaps between the debris.

V bent down to scoop up a gun, lifting it easily from a fallen opponent. Their hand fell uselessly back onto the rock.

Jungkook did the same, only he flung the weapons he collected back into the fire behind you. It spat as it guzzled them, but the sound grew fainter as you finally reached the street and hurried away over flat ground.

As the three of you sprinted through the night, the full extent of the battle was spread before you. Scattered around the burning building were pieces of wreckage, but you were sure they couldn’t have been flung that far if it wasn’t for human intervention in the destruction.

You were forced to leap over a large channel where the road had cracked, somehow.

Eerily still after the furore that had been raging only moments ago, your group’s footsteps rang loudly in your ears. Which is why the crunch that echoed through the wasteland stopped you in your tracks.

Whizzing around, you were instantly alert, feeling your powers stir.

But the air left your lungs, relieved by the blur of pink that was coming towards you.

Jimin tossed a mangled car to one side like it was nothing, only focussed on V. They collided, Jimin burying his head in V’s shoulder and desperately clutching him close.

It was only after pulling away that he registered your presence. His eyes flicked between you and Jungkook, a million questions forming in his eyes.

But he left them unsaid.

He started running again, hand clutched in V’s and leading him around the corner. Following, you drew further from the fiery glare in your wake. The shadows grew thicker, your path taking you off that road and further into the city maze.

Wailing met your ears, sirens announcing the likely arrival of authorities at the site of the fight – all too late to stop anything.

Though you were out of sight, you were only a few streets away. Enough to make you feel terribly exposed to the building clamour of sirens. A glance over your shoulder showed the distinct red and blue of emergency vehicles painting the dark sky.

Then you caught sight of something – someone – stepping forwards from the shadows.

Someone with silvery hair and eyes that glowed bright white.

You hadn’t really seen Yoongi use his powers. His eyes were truly striking, but he did little more than breathe and suddenly the world was plunged back into darkness. The colours disappeared from the sky, even the streetlights dying.

“Yoongi!” Jimin exclaimed, changing course to rush towards him, “you’re okay! What happened-?”

“We’re fine,” Yoongi spoke calmly, dazzling eyes scanning the road behind you, “just couldn’t get back- speaking of, where are we getting to now?”

As if summoned, a figure dropped from the now dark streetlamp. No one else could make a landing like that look so easy.

Yellow faded from Hope’s eyes as he faced you, grin splitting his face.

“Namjoon got to Jin alright, they’re on their way. Just saw them.”

Only the crunch of tyres gave away the car that swung around the corner. The headlights had been cut, whether by Yoongi or by Jin, driving, as a precaution. It blended with the shadows, sliding through them to stop smoothly in front of your group, assembled on the pavement.

It wasn’t until a door swung open and Namjoon stood from it that you remembered the fact you weren’t meant to be there.

This far, the adrenaline of the action had driven it from your mind. But the look Namjoon threw at you and Jungkook made reality come crashing back around you. Would he be angry? He was the one who had stood you down after all.

He breathed in evenly, gaze raking painstakingly over you…

“Get in.”

That was all he said, ducking back inside the car without another word.

As always, nothing could be read through his words. Sobered, you looked at the boys around you, waiting for them to pile into the car before you joined them.

Inside, you kept silent. Jimin and Tae were squished together in the back, Hope apparently cheerful beside them. By contrast, in the middle, Yoongi was staring intently out at the passing streets. His irises still glowed white, reflected in the darkened glass of the window. No trace of emergency lights, searchlights or even regular city lights found its way remotely near you.

This left you shoulder to shoulder with Jungkook, a frosty silence stretching between you.

With Yoongi doing his job so well, Jin guided the car silently back home. Namjoon’s calculating eyes scanned the lot of you through the rear mirror occasionally.

All you could do was try valiantly to ignore the firm press of Jungkook’s arm against yours. But it was impossible to drive him from your mind; in a way, this was familiar. His rigid frame, determinedly staring ahead. Anywhere but you.

Then why did it make you feel so small now?

You were well used to this kind of treatment from him, reciprocating it more often than not. So it was totally unfair how he could occupy your thoughts so relentlessly. All you had done was follow his orders. Rushed into battle together, yes. But you reminded yourself that he never wanted you there anyway. You were still just a hindrance to him.

Setting your jaw, you turned your gaze stoically out the window. A lone streetlight travelled past – you must be almost home if Yoongi felt it safe enough to let the light back in.

You had lost them well enough in the dark maze of the centre, and now you could throw them off your trail.

Through the reflections, you eyed the car packed with all of you. It felt right, with everyone there. Dimmed by the window glass, you saw Jimin’s arm slung around V’s shoulder, small smiles on everyone’s faces as he exchanged low jokes with Hobi.

Jin and Namjoon guided you home at the head of the vehicle. Namjoon’s glances were caring instead of cold, checking up on his fellow fighters.

This could have been different. Nerves remained about his decision, what your actions tonight would make him think. But you could rest knowing you had stepped in to help your new family, part of the reason you were all safely in this car now.

These events only bolstered what had been growing within you. These boys were your team.

Every single one.

Thank you for reading!! Good news for those of you dying to hear what Namjoon will do now, remember the next chapter is going up on Wednesday 29th💜until then, let me know your thoughts down below🥰

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities

@parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack

@oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

@kokoandkookie @veemegatron @kookxin @seokout @jkayy

@peaaachpit @stxrrielle @welcometomyworld13 @ssexsellls @ramicherie

@jk5t4r

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook series #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts mafia au #jungkook mafia au #jungkook au #jeongguk fic #jeongguk scenario #jungkook imagine #bts supernatural au #jungkook supernatural au #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook scenarios

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penkura · 2 months ago

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Special [2/2]

Note: Second part from this request here! Sorry it took so long, I've been burnt out and just struggling to get things out lately. I'll have an update post later today, I think.

Sanji really does feel awful when he realizes what’s going on with you, why you walked away and said you wouldn’t bother anymore. He hates how he’s made you feel, without even realizing it, but he never expected you would actually like him back. He’d resigned himself to the fact that, in his mind, you didn’t have any feelings for him nor would you ever. He’s used to it but for some reason it hit harder when he thought it was you that would reject him.

So he never said anything. He treated you normally, as normally as he could when he thought you were so perfect, but it seems like he's made a mistake. He’s made you think there’s something wrong with the way you look, when it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Nami has heard it so much from him she’s started rolling her eyes while Sanji nearly cries to her about how much he adores you.

No, how much he loves you. He’s not told anyone else, only Nami, making her concern3d the moment she notices you avoiding and ignoring him. Once she gets Sanji to tell her what happened, she’s so close to smacking him upside the head for being so stupid.

“Of course she’s upset, you’re an idiot!”

Nami spends the better part of her afternoon berating Sanji, who cant even argue with her and just nods in agreement to everything she says. She stops him before he can even ask for ideas on what to do so he can make it up to you.

“No, you’re doing that yourself this time.”

It takes him most of the day to decide what he could do, what he could say, so it surprises you when he finally shows up after dinner that evening. He’s not looking you in the eyes, but he has your favorite flowers with him, it makes your heart ache a bit, believing he’s done this to every girl he’s ever upset in the past so you don’t move to take the flowers. You’re trying to stop your feelings, he's making it so hard though.

“Sanji—”

“[Y/N], I’m so sorry I made you feel like you aren’t special to me. I…it’s no excuse, but I didn’t think you’d ever have feelings for me like I do for you so I was trying to distract myself from you,” it starts to make sense, but you still don’t move, you’re not entirely sure you can trust him, “If you never forgive me I deserve it, but…can you give me a second chance? No, that’s not right…let me have the chance to make it up to you, and prove you’re so much more than to me than you think you are.”

You’re both quiet for a few moments, Sanji believes you’re completely done with him while you think it through.

A conflict between crewmates over something is always a possibility, but when it’s due to romantic feelings it feels weirdly worse to you. It feels like you’re letting it take over everything, but you’ve had these feelings for so long that you aren’t sure they’ll ever go away, even if you are trying to stop it. You still want to be his friend if nothing else, though it almost seems like he may want something more.

That’s something to discuss later.

Sanji starts to feel like things will get better when you reach out and take the flowers, not looking at him even when he looks up at you.

“…you can make my favorite dessert to start…and explain yourself better.”

The grin on his face makes you smile just a little bit in return, as Sanji nods and takes your hand to bring you to the kitchen.

“I’ll start right away while you put those in water! I’ll make you whatever drink you want too!”

“That sounds nice, Sanji…”

Before you get too much farther, Sanji stops and pulls you into a hug that you return.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t special to me…you mean more to me than anyone else in the world.” You’re going to choose to believe him, especially when Sanji goes the extra mile to make sure you know how much he loves you.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader

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wemustgatekeepwooyoung · 3 months ago

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House of Cards

synopsis: you and your sneaky link, Jung Wooyoung, who you met on a dating app four months ago, finally decide to make it official over a round of Crazy Eights*

pairing: (non idol)! Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

genre: romance, fluff

word count: 2,3k

content/warnings: !!!mentions of your previous sexual activities, not you actually having sex!!! ,small tensile environment throughout your game session that lead to your confession, pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby,).

author’s note: now this, this is a sample of what I normally enjoy writing. It comes more naturally to me but who doesn’t enjoy a good smut too? I’ve got many things cooking but my exams are right on the corner so I’m kinda screwed in terms of free time, cause I got NONE. Sorry ‘Don’t be a stranger, stranger’ is taking so long, I’m still kinda skeptical about it. Anyway, I’ll try my best not to just be active but also productive . It’s not something I can guarantee though. Hope your excitement stays present till my next update? Bye bye <3

*Crazy Eights is a shedding-type card game for two to seven players and the best known American member of the Eights Group which also includes Pig and Spoons. The object of the game is to be the first player to discard all of their cards. The game is similar to Switch, Mau Mau or Whot!. -Wikipedia

“You’re good Jung Wooyoung but I’m not going to give it to you that easily”

“You always say that and then end up moaning my name dear” he teased

“Can you stick to the game?”

“Yes ma’am!” he said and drew a card from the card deck only for him to draw another and another and another… “Shit how many’s it been?“

“I’d say you’ve drawn about half deck. Why? Can’t you properly fit them in between your fingers?”

“Now who’s the one not sticking to the game?”

“Well I never implied anything, it’s you that’s all messed up and pervy” you said and poked him softly on his thigh

“Oh am I?”

“Of course you are. You can’t even hold all those cards, one keeps falling every now and then. Are you that ‘frustrated’? ” you mocked him once again.

It’s been your new favourite hobby these past four months of ‘seeing him’. You two met on Tinder once he first moved into your city. He didn’t know anyone and had no connections with people, so, that’s what led him to joining the world’s most famous dating app.

You two clicked right away. Sex was what ensured your bonding at first, a few weeks passed and you kept meeting each other. He’s probably fucked you on every surface possible and you’re living your moment. Oh and sex calls… Y’all are wild.

You’ve finally found a man that can match your sexual desires. Not too vanilla but not too harsh. Just the perfect mixture of intimacy, freedom and that specific taste of filth you go crazy for.

You’ve gotten pretty close too. You even have sleepovers after wilding out on each other, it’s not just about sex like you both had noted on your profiles when you first talked. At least not anymore.

It almost feels like…

“Ha! Finally! Lets see how you can beat that-“ he said, still struggling to hold all these cards.

“Why don’t you leave some aside? It’s okay to cheat when it’s us two right?” you proposed only to be greeted with his seriousness, a rare occurrence.

“No. No cheating, ever. I’ll manage somehow” he said and then fell yet another card. He rolled his eyes and grabbed that card with his mouth, keeping it still among his beautiful plump lips.

What a sight. You keep staring like the obsessed one you are while he’s in such a difficult position! What a menace! It’s funny how he tangles you so well in between his fingers and yet he can’t really make happen to hold those cards right. Cute.

“Mmh?” he whined and you finally let out that laugh you’ve been holding onto. You squeezed his cheek and placed a gentle slap on it, making him question your mood.

He looked at you confused as you melted while holding eye contact. You really really adore this man and his pretty seductive lips. You gave a look-over to the cards , of which you’ve already made a stack after playing them, so that he strikes his next move.

He strategically looked over his cards, trying to pick the best one for his own sake. Hm… ‘What if?’ he thought. ‘What about that one on my lips?’ he thought more precisely. How could he though, he can’t even hold that card among the others, how can he now take it from his lips and place it on top of the others to make his move? He looked up the ceiling to find a way when he thought of the perfect one.

“Take it” he mumbled and you looked at him confused as you couldn’t quite understand. He repeated his phrase but still no recognition coming from his beloved, you.

He rolled his eyes again and with a quick motion, he tried handing it over to you with a similar strategy to pecking your lips. He balanced himself on his hands as he leaned close to you, trying to give you the card he wants to play with so you’d so it for him.

Your heart skipped a beat by how spontaneous he is, a characteristic of his you find very attractive. You replied with a similar gesture, accepting the card with your own lips and playing it for him.

A cute smile filled with success and pride of his showed up and made you smile back. How could you resist the way his smile cracks his cheeks and reveals his adorable mole on his lower lip? You just really love his lips don’t you?

“It’s your turn to play sweetheart.”

“Right” you said, still under the influence of his flirty action

“Are you distracted? I thought we should pay attention!”

“No I’m paying great attention!”

“Yeah but you should pay it on the game don’t you think?” he said and earned a smack on his right shoulder that made him chuckle “You’re so cute” he commented and watched you closely as you were trying to pick your next card

“Why do you have the need to make me question myself all the time?”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it so that you’re to have the advantage baby. We both know you do”

“I’m not going to say that I do and be defeated that easily”

“Okay, then try not to be defeated elsewhere too, I can now hold my cards. Shit’s getting serious” he reported like he was a journalist or something. Playing all sophisticated like he isn’t the biggest crackhead the world has ever seen. Also, how can one come out being sophisticated when he speaks like that?

You put on a smirk as you’re starting to enjoy his devotion. Card games have been your thing lately. You play all the time. It’s mostly you winning and him wondering why he lost when all he did during it’s duration was tease you.

“You know damn well that I’ll win this time too”

“Do you bet on it?” he asked with a grin on his face

“What do I have to lose? I said I’ll win anyway”

“And if you don’t?”

“If I don’t… Then, what’d you have me do to feel fulfilled?” you wondered

He’ll probably want to do something naughty later, something you’ve probably never tried before that’s been messing him up. He’s a very kinky guy, what else could it be?

“You’ll answer a question I’ve picked for you especially . But there’s no denying it. You’ll have to do it princess”

Fuck. Why’s anxiety being built up inside you now? Why’s your stomach bothered? He really knows how to play. Fucking Jung Wooyoung, he annoys you so much sometimes that you want to punch him in the face. But first of all, he’s too pretty to be punched and second, you have no reason to be scared. You’ll win again after all, won’t you? What’s a little test going to cost you?

“Bet” you replied and a naughty smirk popped on his face. Maybe he’s using all this as a roleplay only to ask you a stupid question in the end. But no, he won’t even have the chance to, cause you’ll win, right?

The heat’s getting real. He has gotten rid of most of his cards while you still are trying to play your last one. Your hands are starting to shake as his competitiveness is now at the highest it’s ever been in all the games you’ve played together so far.

You’re both focused but it’s clear who has the upper hand once again. You’re actually facing a big difficulty here, all this hasn’t come unnoticed to you. He’s actually good. Really good. Where did that come from? Is it that the question he has to ask is that important that it gives him motivation to go hard on you? What the heck?

And before you’d had the chance to realise it, he placed his final card on the card stack, your eyes focused on his motion not able to withstand this happening.

You were actually defeated by Jung Wooyoung, what a day! You never thought that this would happen. All your anxiety has left your body, you’re actually surprised and excited for your future matches. What can one say, you two live for all that tension that’s being crafted for the final dominator’s sake.

All he did was stare at you like he wanted to absorb all the dignity he had just earned from his victory. He clapped for himself and cheered like a little child. Furthermore you too burst into applause for him, proud of that little accomplishment of his. He deserves it.

“Good job Wooyo! How come you made such an upgrade?”

“I really wanted to ask you that question”

“Is it a bad one?”

“You might need some wine for it go down smoothly. Actually it’s me that wants the wine to finally spill that information.”

“Fuck” you hissed at yourself as he went over and grabbed two beautifully sculpted glasses for your usual ‘drunkards’ moment. “Isn’t that too much?”

“I’ll have that one” he said and swallowed it all at once, causing a little of it to spill down his chin. You gently wiped it off and pecked his lips, understanding the difference from their usual taste. “So… Can I make a prologue?”

“Go on”

“Okay… So, how do I even begin? I’m totally not made for this stuff. You see, I’d forgotten how to be a romantic”

‘Why’s he bringing that up so suddenly?’ ,you thought.

“Fuck it, here I go.” he said in very a determined tone before letting out a big sigh “Could you ever possibly fall for a guy like me?”

C’mon, pretend to be shocked Y/N! You can’t do that though, you can’t pretend, cause you are in fact, shocked.

“What kind of question is that…?”

“It’s stupid I know. I’ll ask another one, forget about it”

“No! No it’s not stupid!” you said and held his hands in yours “Of course I would.”

“So you haven’t already, I see. Cause I have”

“You have?!”

“Yes Y/N, poor me has developed feelings for you”

“Poor you?”

“The ‘poor me’ part goes for it being one sided. But I’m a lucky one, getting the opportunity to spend time with you and make such bets. It’s okay, no need to love me back”

‘Love him back’ ?!!?!? He’s actually having you so moved that you might as well make your confession. Why shouldn’t you? Hasn’t he been your comfort person all these months? Hasn’t he made you feel like you’ve got a reason to be excited and happy? Don’t you love spending time with him and getting to see all his aspects? You really do, he’s amazing and you know it. He’s your favorite person. You can’t imagine your life without him anymore and you can’t imagine his life without you.

You love comforting him and so does he. You love being there and watching him get excited over the smallest of everyday things. You love being there and watching him be sad and live through all these human emotions and listen to his struggles. You love it when he opens up to you about his feelings, so the shock you’re now experiencing has a taste of delightfulness to it. You just love him, you really do. You love Jung Wooyoung and the pretty world he has created in his head where he so desperately wants to take you with him so as to enjoy it while accompanying one another.

The tension’s still in the air and you can tell that his desperation has now become an acknowledgement of a false conclusion. And it’s finally time, time for you to give your answer, containing your explanation and confession.

“Me too”

“You too what? I’ve lost the context, sorry love”

“I have feelings for you too Wooyoung.”

“You do?!”

“Yes I do” you told him and this statement took him some seconds to be processed the way it should.

“Of course you do” he said then, proudly, bringing the Woo you know and fell for back on stage ”Won’t you scold me and call me an arrogant asshole?”

“No this time I won’t.”

“Really? Crap and it turns me on so well baby you have no idea” he admitted like his degradation kink was something you didn’t know of already.

He leaned again over the cards to kiss you, throwing them all over the place, causing you both to laugh in between kisses.

“So now what?” he asked and began to kiss down your neck

“What do you mean what?” you replied breathlessly while also trying to give out the focus that was expected of you in a case like this.

“What are we now?”

“We still need time to show us that, I think”

“You’re right. Let’s start from scratch then shall we not?” he proposed and turned you around, ready to make about his feelings again in a language you two’ve been practicing for the time period of the the past four months.

#jung wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung fanfic #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez #ateez fanfic #atiny #ateez x reader #ateez x you #wooyoung ateez

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