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rootedinrevisions · 2 days ago

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Five Years

SUMMARY: Five years of friendship. Years of silent longing. One night that changes everything. When Tyler Owens, a charming, rugged man with a penchant for keeping things casual, finds himself at a crossroads with the woman he's secretly loved for years, he realizes he might have waited too long. After one too many moments where you've been left wanting more, you find yourself torn between the comfort of their deep connection and the pain of being stuck in the friend zone. Tyler has one last shot to show you that he’s not just the man you turn to in the hard moments—but the man who can make you believe in love, again.

A/N: Sorry for all the angsty Tyler lately! It's just been the mood/vibe lately so I've been rolling with it! Thanks to the person who sent this request in! I hope you like it!

PROMPT: "What was he doing back there? Flirting with you like he has a fucking chance?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: Angst.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

It’s late, the kind of quiet that comes when the night has softened everything into shadows. You and Tyler are back in the motel room, tangled together in bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arm drapes over you, and you’re curled into his side, your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. The scent of whiskey lingers between you, mingling with the warmth of his skin, and you can still taste him faintly on your lips. Another night, another round of kisses exchanged under the dim motel lights, like something fragile and fleeting.

He stirs, his hand brushing along your back, and you wonder if he’s on the edge of sleep or just drifting in that space in between like you are. For a moment, you’re tempted to ask him the question that’s always on the tip of your tongue: What are we doing?

Instead, you stay silent, breathing in sync with him, wondering if he can feel the way your heart skips each time he holds you like this. He shifts, drawing you a little closer, and you catch a glimpse of something in his expression—something soft, maybe even vulnerable. But it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and slightly slurred. “You’re comfortable, right?” His hand rests at the curve of your hip, fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you.

You nod, managing a quiet, “Yeah. Always.” You know he’ll pretend he doesn’t remember this in the morning, brush it off like it’s nothing, and you’ll let him because it’s easier that way. But tonight, you can pretend a little too—that these quiet moments mean the same to him as they do to you.

You close your eyes, listening to his heartbeat beneath your ear, wondering how much longer you can keep pretending before you’re forced to admit the truth—to yourself, if not to him.

Then, out of nowhere, he says, “So… I just found out I’m being inducted into the PBR Hall of Fame.”

You blink, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. A smile lights up your face. “Tyler, that’s amazing! I mean, I knew you were a big deal, but… Hall of Fame?”

He chuckles softly, scratching the back of his head with that familiar modesty. “Yeah, kinda crazy, huh? Guess all those years getting tossed around finally paid off.”

You laugh, knowing he’s downplaying it. You’ve seen some of those old videos, clips of him taking on bulls with more force and heart than anyone you’d ever met.

“No one deserves it more than you,” you say softly, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he looks away, and then, clearing his throat, he glances back at you.

“Thanks, means a lot,” he says, his voice softer. Then, after a moment, he adds, “Actually… I get a plus one to the induction ceremony. I was thinking maybe you’d want to come with me?”

Your heart skips at that. He doesn’t even pause to consider anyone else; he’s asking you. For a moment, you feel a surge of excitement that maybe this is more than just a friendly invite. But just as quickly, doubt seeps in. If he had a girlfriend, he’d take her, wouldn’t he? A familiar ache settles in your chest, the quiet reminder that maybe this is just about convenience for him.

“Are you sure?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, and casual. “I mean, you could take anyone.”

He glances at you with a soft smile, his eyes sincere. “Nah. Can’t think of anyone better. You’d come, right?”

The words are on the tip of your tongue—Of course, I’ll go.

Instead, you hesitate, just for a second, wondering if this is just a placeholder invitation until he finds someone to fill the spot he’s never openly said he wants to be filled. But you can’t bear the thought of missing the moment, so you nod, managing a smile. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

He grins, pulling you back into his chest, and you settle against him, feeling the warmth of his arm around you. But even as you breathe him in, letting the steady beat of his heart calm you, a question begins to take root in your mind. Where do we really stand, Tyler?

It’s a question you keep to yourself, swallowing it down as you close your eyes and listen to the silence settle around you once again.

* * * * *

The ballroom buzzed with energy and anticipation, and you could sense the excitement radiating from Tyler beside you. The event space was elegantly decorated, with every table set with crystal glasses and gleaming silverware. But you hardly noticed any of it; all your focus was on Tyler. This was his night. And you were honored to be here with him, even if you didn’t quite know what that meant for the two of you.

You eventually found your way to your seats near the front of the room, and Tyler’s hand brushed against yours as you sat down. His fingers lingered just a moment, a subtle contact that sent a rush of warmth up your arm.

Before you could say anything, the lights dimmed as the emcee took to the stage, announcing the start of the ceremony. The audience fell quiet, and Tyler’s hand was warm on your knee, a comforting weight that made your heart race. You glanced down at his hand, then back up to his face, wondering if he even realized the effect he had on you.

A part of you wanted to reach for his hand again, to close the gap between you both once and for all, but you stayed still, holding your breath as the ceremony began.

As the awards were announced one by one, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Tyler. He seemed to sit straighter with each name called, his eyes never leaving the stage. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the emcee announced Tyler’s name, and the room burst into applause. You clapped the loudest, your heart swelling with pride.

You watched as Tyler walked to the stage, his stride steady and confident, shoulders back with that natural charisma he carried wherever he went. When he accepted his award, he stood there with his plaque, his gaze scanning the crowd until it landed on you. The spotlight hit his face, highlighting the small, crooked smile you knew so well. And his eyes—dark, intense, focused on you—seemed to say something unspoken.

You felt your breath catch, frozen under his gaze, and for a second, it was like you were the only two people in the room.

His acceptance speech was simple and heartfelt. He thanked the people who had been there with him through the highs and lows. He spoke of long, hard days, the sacrifices he’d made, and the passion that drove him. But you could’ve sworn that when he mentioned his gratitude for “the people who kept him grounded,” his eyes found you once again.

As Tyler wrapped up his speech and made his way back to his seat, you barely had a chance to process the pride you felt for him, for everything he’d accomplished. But that brief moment when he’d looked at you on stage lingered in your mind, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Could it have meant something more?

He sat back down next to you, and you leaned over, unable to keep the smile from your face. “That was incredible, Ty. I’m so proud of you.”

He looked at you, a soft chuckle escaping as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I think I might’ve fumbled a little bit up there.”

“Not even close,” you replied, squeezing his arm. “You were perfect.”

The atmosphere at the afterparty was more relaxed, a contrast to the formality of the ceremony.

The room buzzes with laughter and clinking glasses, everyone here to celebrate the achievements of legends, past and present. You’re standing beside Tyler, trying to blend into the background of the room’s energy. But then, without warning, Tyler reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before intertwining them completely. It’s such a small gesture, but it sends a rush of warmth through you. He glances at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment, almost as if he’s silently asking if this is okay, if you’re okay. You squeeze his hand, hoping he’ll understand that, yes, this is more than okay.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he says, his voice low and soft. He leads you through the crowd toward a man with a broad smile and lines etched deep around his eyes—Tyler’s old mentor. Tyler introduces you with a genuine warmth that makes you feel like you belong here, like you’re not just an accessory to his big night but someone he wants by his side.

As they begin chatting, Tyler’s hand drifts to your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your hip as he pulls you closer, fitting you against his side. You feel a warmth blossom in your chest, and for a moment, the nagging doubts you’d been harboring vanish. His mentor jokes about old times, and Tyler laughs, giving your waist a small squeeze as if to share the moment with you. You let yourself lean into him, letting his warmth melt away the walls you’d tried to build around your heart.

But then, as the conversation comes to a close, he lets go. Just like that, his hand falls from your waist, and he takes a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets, a casual smile on his face. He glances around the room, no longer focused on you, and the sudden distance sends a chill down your spine. You’re standing side by side, but the connection feels fractured, like a missed beat. He begins walking next to you, his attention now elsewhere, no hand-holding, no gentle touches to keep you close.

Half an hour later you’re standing next to Tyler, trying to stay engaged with the conversation he’s having with an old friend he used to ride with, someone who knows a side of him you’ve only heard about in stories. Tyler’s posture is easy, his laugh warm and unguarded in a way that you rarely get to see. You watch him as he reminisces, letting yourself get lost in the sound of his laughter, in the way his eyes light up with a spark of the past. But as they continue to talk, it becomes clear that he’s in his own world, like you’re not even there.

The laughter between them grows, each memory shared drawing them further back into the years before you knew him. You shift your weight, feeling a slight ache in your chest as you realize just how separate you feel from this part of his life. A sense of loneliness creeps in, one you can’t shake, and you find yourself glancing toward the bar. Maybe a drink will help dull the sting.

You start to turn, your heart heavy, but just then, you feel Tyler’s hand reach out, his fingers wrapping gently around yours. The touch is so familiar, so comforting, and for a brief second, that hopeful warmth flickers back to life.

You glance over your shoulder, catching his eye, a hint of something unreadable there.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter, as if trying to break through to you despite the noise around.

You swallow, forcing a smile to cover the twinge of sadness that’s growing in your chest. “Yeah,” you say softly, nodding toward the bar. “Just thirsty. Thought I’d grab a drink.”

He nods, giving your hand a slight squeeze before letting go, turning back to his friend with that easy laugh that now feels like a barrier you can’t quite cross. You turn away, your heart sinking as you walk toward the bar, feeling the absence of his hand like a chill creeping over your skin. You can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment that settles heavy and cold. Just moments ago, he was intertwining your fingers, holding you close with his hand on your waist, like you were more than just a companion for the night.

How did it change so quickly? How did he go from holding you, grounding you with those intimate touches, to leaving you in this limbo of almost but not quite? You realize that, despite how much he means to you, there’s a line between you that he doesn’t seem ready to cross. And that thought hurts more than you want to admit.

You’re leaning against the bar, lost in thought, when a voice breaks through the noise, smooth and warm. “Hey there. You look like you could use some company.”

You glance up to find a guy with a charming grin and a relaxed confidence that’s instantly disarming. He extends a hand. “Eli Vastbinder,” he says. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

For a moment, you’re taken off guard, but you shake his hand and introduce yourself, motioning to where Tyler’s standing in the distance. “I’m here with Tyler Owens.”

At the mention of Tyler’s name, a flicker of something—maybe disappointment, maybe surprise—crosses Eli’s face before he recovers his smile. “Owens, huh? How do you know the Tornado Wrangler?”

You can’t help but laugh at the nickname, feeling some of the tension ease as you explain. “We work together. I help him run his YouTube channel.”

Eli’s gaze shifts from Tyler back to you, a curious glint in his eye as if he’s sizing up the situation. He doesn’t linger on it for long, though, before flashing you a daring smile. “So, just coworkers, huh? In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I bought you a drink?”

The question lingers, sparking a twist of hesitation in your chest. You glance over at Tyler, hoping for some kind of sign, some acknowledgment of what you’re feeling. Your eyes meet his, and he offers you a casual smile before turning his attention back to his friend. The moment leaves you cold—another reminder of all the times he’s pulled you close, only to leave you feeling as if you’re just out of reach.

You turn back to Eli, a decision settling in your mind. Tyler isn’t claiming you. He never has. And he’s had five years to do so.

You give Eli a small smile. “Sure, why not?”

Eli’s grin widens as he orders your drink, leaning in just slightly as he asks about your work with Tyler. He’s charming, effortlessly making you feel seen and appreciated. There’s a warm intensity in his gaze, like he’s genuinely interested in hearing about your life, in learning the pieces of you that Tyler seems to take for granted. You laugh at his jokes, leaning in as he tells stories about the crazy things he’s seen on the road. Every so often, his hand brushes yours, sending a little thrill through you—like something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in far too long.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the weight lifting from your shoulders. There’s no ambiguity with Eli; his attention is clear, unburdened by mixed signals or unspoken boundaries. It’s refreshing, exciting, even, to be the center of someone’s focus without second-guessing their intentions.

You glance over at Tyler once more, but he’s still wrapped up in conversation, seemingly unaware of the ache you’ve carried alone. A part of you wants him to notice, to see what’s happening, to finally feel the urgency you’ve held onto for years. But there’s another part of you that’s finished waiting.

As you turn back to Eli, you find yourself smiling, the kind of smile that feels like letting go.

You’re laughing at something Eli just said, a relaxed warmth in your chest that’s been missing around Tyler lately, when you feel a familiar presence behind you. You glance back, and there he is—Tyler, wearing that easy smile that’s disarmed you a hundred times before. He leans close, his hand slipping around your waist, fingers warm and possessive against your hip. “Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, the pet name rolling off his tongue as naturally as the smirk tugging at his lips.

But Tyler doesn’t stop there. His gaze shifts to Eli, assessing him for a beat, and then extends a hand. “I see you’ve met my date,” he says, voice casual but with a certain edge, like a claim staked.

You freeze, glancing up at him, surprised and confused by his sudden assertiveness. Eli’s expression mirrors your own—slightly perplexed, eyebrows lifting as he takes Tyler’s hand and shakes it firmly. His eyes flicker back to you, questioning. “Date? I thought you two were just coworkers,” he remarks, eyes shifting meaningfully to Tyler’s hand, still resting on your hip.

Before you can answer, Tyler lets out a dismissive scoff, as if the notion of you two being “just coworkers” is absurd. “Coworkers?” he echoes, his hand tightening just a fraction. “Yeah, we’re a little closer than that.” He shoots a look at you that’s both playful and possessive.

You feel your blood simmer, heat rising in your chest at the presumption in his tone. As if you’re some claim he can lay when it’s convenient, without any real commitment. You step out of his grip, your voice firm as you say, “We are just coworkers.” The words come out sharper than you intend, but you don’t soften them.

Tyler’s smile falters, his brow furrowing, but you’ve already turned away, excusing yourself quickly to Eli before slipping out toward the exit.

Humiliation washes over you, prickling your skin as you push through the crowd, needing fresh air, needing space. You had been enjoying a perfectly nice conversation with Eli, feeling appreciated and even flattered, until Tyler decided to swoop in and turn the moment into something possessive and confusing.

As you reach the hallway, you feel a sharp sting behind your eyes. Tears blur your vision, and you blink them back, furious with yourself for letting Tyler get to you like this. You’re tired—tired of being in his orbit only when he wants you to be, of being treated as something more only when it suits him. Because heaven forbid another guy notices you.

The hallway is quiet, save for the soft murmur of voices drifting from the ballroom as you stand there, waiting for the elevator. The moment stretches, tense and thick, when you hear his footsteps behind you, his voice calling your name.

You don’t turn around. “Tyler… don’t.” The plea is barely above a whisper, but he ignores it, closing the distance between you, his face etched with frustration.

“What was he doing back there?” he asks, motioning down the hall toward the ballroom, his tone hard, possessive. “Flirting with you like he has a chance?”

Your heart twists painfully at his words. His tone says it all—like he assumes you’re his, like it’s obvious. Like you should know.

But you’re done with the assumptions. The words spill out before you can stop them, thick with months, years, of unspoken hurt. “And why would you care, Tyler?” Your voice cracks, and you feel the first tear slip down your cheek, quickly followed by another. “It’s not like we’re together, right? You said it yourself—we’ll never be anything more than friends. We’re just…” You falter, searching for the right words, but the truth tumbles out, raw and painful. “We’re just really close, and we make out sometimes. Nothing more.”

The weight of it hangs in the air, and you can see the impact of your words in the way his face falls, his expression softening, regretful.

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out, but you shake your head, a mix of anger and sadness bubbling to the surface.

“No, Tyler.” You step back, keeping the space between you. “I’m done. I’m done with this… with you.” Your voice shakes, but the conviction is there, clear and sharp. “I’m done not being good enough. Done being yours only when you want someone on your arm or in your bed. I can’t keep doing this.” You wipe a tear from your cheek, gathering whatever strength you have left. “I’m done with everything. Our friendship. The channel. All of it.”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open with a quiet chime. You glance back at him one last time, taking in the hurt and confusion in his eyes.

“Go back to the party, Tyler. It’s your night. You deserve it.”

You step into the elevator, pressing the button as the doors start to close. The last thing you see before they shut is him standing there, looking lost and completely, utterly alone.

Back in the quiet solitude of the hotel room, you feel the emotions from the hallway encounter with Tyler crash over you. It’s almost overwhelming, but you shake your head, determined to focus on the immediate task. You kick off your heels and reach for the zipper at the back of your dress, letting it slide down as the gown falls in a pool around your feet. You step out of it, scooping it up to drape over the chair, and head to your bag, ready to change and leave before you can overthink it.

Digging through your clothes, you pull out the first shirt, but frustration prickles at you when you realize it’s one of Tyler’s. With an annoyed huff, you toss it on the bed. You dig deeper, pulling out another… his again. Why didn’t I pack more of my own clothes? you think bitterly, remembering that his shirts have been your usual comfort, your routine.

Finally, you find one of your own t-shirts and pull it on, then slide into a pair of jeans. You run a hand over your face, taking a deep breath to keep yourself from falling apart, and open your suitcase, methodically folding the rest of your things and stowing them away. As you pack, a plan begins to form, each step sounding clearer in your mind. You’ll finish packing, get a car downstairs to a nearby hotel for the night, and fly back tomorrow. It might be an awkward plane ride home, but you’ll put in headphones, turn away, and then… you’ll walk away from Tyler James Owens for good.

With your bag nearly ready, you look around the room one last time, eyes falling on the small pile of his things on the bed. His shirts, the ones you’ve wrapped yourself in so many times, now just reminders of all the blurred lines that never became anything real. You turn away, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, willing the resolve to carry you through whatever comes next.

You reach for the handle of your suitcase, ready to walk out of Tyler’s life for good, when the hotel room door opens behind you. Your heart races, and for a second you want to pretend you don’t notice him there, but when you turn, his expression says he’s already figured out exactly what’s happening. His eyes drop to the half-packed suitcase, then back to your face. His look of confusion shifts into something desperate.

“Please,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, almost raw. “Please, stay. We can talk about this. Just… don’t leave. Not like this.”

You shake your head, fighting the tears that are already building again. “Tyler, I’m done,” you say, your voice trembling. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either. You keep me close enough to feel like there’s something between us, but it’s never anything more. It’s just not fair anymore.”

You curse under your breath, blinking hard as the tears spill over. You don’t want him to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, hurt. Swallowing back a sob, you start to walk past him, head held high even as you feel yourself shattering. Just as your hand reaches for the door, he says it. Those three words you’ve been waiting for, holding onto, for what feels like forever.

“I love you.”

It stops you cold, and you stand there, hand frozen on the doorknob, not sure if you actually heard him or if it’s just some desperate wish in your mind. But then he speaks again.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice steady, almost pleading. “And if you love me—if you can still love me—then I’m asking you to stay and just… hear me out. But if you’re done with me, really done, and I’ve already lost you… then go.”

The silence hangs between you, thick and charged. You turn slowly, meeting his gaze, and there’s a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. Vulnerability, sincerity, something real and unguarded. He’s finally opened himself up, given you the one thing you’ve been longing to hear, but the choice to stay or leave is yours.

Your chest tightens as you search his face, feeling the weight of all the years, the almosts, the near-misses, the longing. He stands there, his hands clenched at his sides, waiting, as if he’s holding his breath.

“You… really love me?” you whisper, the words barely audible.

“Yes,” he breathes, stepping toward you, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I just… didn’t know how to show it, and I was afraid if I did, you’d walk away. But losing you… that’s the one thing I’m really afraid of.”

You take a shaky breath, looking into his eyes, feeling every bit of his honesty, and for the first time, he’s offering you everything, without conditions, without holding back. The pain and hurt are still there, but as he waits, the tears in his own eyes now, you feel something else rising to the surface—a glimmer of hope.

The words are out before you can stop them.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Tyler steps forward, his eyes searching yours as if trying to understand the storm inside you. He reaches up, hesitantly at first, as though unsure if you’ll pull away. But when you don’t, his hands gently cup your face, his touch warm and grounding. His thumbs swipe at the tears still streaking down your cheeks, wiping them away as if he can erase all the pain he’s caused with one simple gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry. For not telling you sooner, for not making a move sooner… for making you feel like you don’t matter. For making you cry. You deserve so much more than that.”

You’re frozen, his words sinking deep into the cracks of your heart that you didn’t even know were there. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, a silent apology that speaks louder than anything else could.

He takes a deep breath, his voice low but sincere. “I know I’ve messed up, but I’m asking… can you give me another chance? To do it right this time? To take you on a real date, to buy you flowers, to tell the world that you’re mine… to be proud to have you by my side. I want to do this right, with you. Will you give me one more chance?”

The weight of his words hangs between you, and you feel the walls you’ve built around your heart begin to crack. He’s standing there, fully exposed, offering you everything he’s held back for so long. The room feels smaller, the air thicker as you look into his eyes, where you see nothing but vulnerability and hope.

You swallow hard, emotions warring inside you. You’ve wanted this—wanted him—to say it, to fight for you. And now that he is, you’re not sure whether to run or to stay. But as you stand there, feeling the sincerity in his touch and his words, something shifts. The hurt, the confusion, the loneliness—it all starts to unravel, replaced by a flicker of something new: hope.

You take a breath, your voice barely more than a whisper, but clear enough for him to hear. “Last chance, Owens.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s softer, more relieved than triumphant. He doesn’t say anything else for a moment. Instead, he just pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a hug that’s full of promise, the kind that says he’s never letting you go. And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe him.

You stand there, still in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. The tension that had built up over the last few days—hell, the last few years—seems to fade away in that moment. Tyler’s hands are warm on your back, his arms strong around you as if he’s holding on, not just to you, but to everything that was between you two. His breath is steady, the pulse in his chest calming yours. He doesn’t let go, not yet. You don’t want him to.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. There’s no need to. Words were said, the hurt was aired out, and now, the only thing left is the silence between you—a silence that feels like the promise of something better, something real.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft, full of regret and hope. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away the last of your tears. "I meant every word," he says quietly, his voice steady but raw. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

You nod, feeling something inside you shift, finally able to let go of the heaviness that had been pulling at you for far too long. You offer him a small smile, your fingers brushing his lightly as you give him a gentle squeeze.

He exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Hey…” His voice is quieter now, almost like he's considering his next words carefully. "How about we skip the rest of the party downstairs? We can grab some pizza, put on a movie, just... relax in here."

You glance at him, surprised by the suggestion, but something about the simplicity of it feels perfect. You nod, the corners of your mouth lifting into a genuine smile. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

Tyler’s eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. “Good. Go ahead and get comfortable. I’ll order the pizza. Whatever you want.”

You feel a sudden sense of relief wash over you. It’s not just the break from the chaos of the night, but the quiet, intimate comfort of knowing that it’s just the two of you, no expectations, no pressure.

Tyler watches you for a moment, his smile softening as he watches you dig through your suitcase for something comfortable. You pull out a pair of sweatpants, replacing your jeans, and as you move to crawl onto the bed, he’s already a step ahead of you.

Before you can sit down, he reaches for the bottom of your t-shirt, pulling it up over your head. You freeze, giving him a confused look, about to protest. "Tyler, I’m really not in the mood—"

He cuts you off with a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Not like that," he says, his voice teasing but warm. "Trust me, I’m not asking for anything like that."

Your brow furrows slightly in confusion, but Tyler doesn’t give you a chance to dwell on it. Instead, he reaches down into your suitcase and pulls out one of the t-shirts you had tossed aside earlier—one of his shirts. He holds it out to you with a playful glint in his eyes. “Here,” he says, “put this one on instead.”

You take the shirt from him, still a little baffled. “What’s wrong with my other shirt?”

Tyler grins, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He steps closer, leaning down slightly as if he’s about to let you in on a secret.

“Because it’s not your boyfriend’s,” he says, his voice low and almost teasing. “If you’re gonna be my girl, you wear my shirt to bed.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. It’s the little things like this—the small gestures, the inside jokes, the way he’s already making you feel like you belong—that make the tension from earlier seem a little less heavy.

You slip the shirt on, and Tyler's eyes soften when he sees you in it, the way it fits just right, the way it looks like it belongs on you. You glance up at him as you finish adjusting it, your voice quieter now, full of warmth. “This better for you, boyfriend?”

"Yes." He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "I think you look pretty damn perfect in it."

You laugh softly, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened earlier melts away, leaving you with nothing but the quiet comfort of his presence. You sit down on the bed, pulling the blankets up and patting the spot beside you. "So, pizza and movies?"

Tyler nods, settling in beside you, having traded his tuxedo for sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hand finds its way to yours as he lets out a contented sigh. "Sounds like the perfect way to spend the night."

And for the first time in a long while, it feels like things are exactly where they need to be.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction

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smartkookiee · 3 days ago

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How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.3 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff, 2000 rom com vibes, making out, flirting. drinking, swearing, crying, sweet pining Jungkook, Jungkooks past comes up (boooooo), ex situationship thingsss, its a sweet chapter and they make out and I love it, legit the easiest chapter I have written so far ❥word-count: 10.7k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 3

“And you really believe this guy is going to work for this?” Yoongi said, looking over your notes and layout of the entire plan you had.

“Absolutely sir.” You nod.

It was the Tuesday following you and Jungkook’s date. You two had gotten some dinner and then you went home. You tried not to let that text ruin your mood but it did bring you down for the meal. You and Jungkook just talked more about what you do and things you liked. Just easy conversation and sharing social media, small things that you could mask your disappointment with and give cheerful and in depth answers too.

That text sucked to see. It sucked to see that he made this promise to be serious but he was just playing you.To be fair, you didn’t know him. It was your first date and he didn’t owe you anything. It would just make this easier.

"Already past the first date. You’re jumping in head first," Yoongi mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "So, what’s next?"

"The plan is to keep things moving. I only have thirty days, so I wanted to start strong. The first date was just to break the ice. Now, I'm aiming to stay in touch throughout the weeks—get more annoying to make sure I stay on his radar."

Yoongi chuckled. "And what does annoying entail in this case?"

You grinned, feeling a mischievous spark. "I was thinking some things like being a little too clingy. Getting a bit too personal too soon. Social media stalking, maybe even acting overly sensitive to anything he says about 'dating' or 'us.' Just... trying to inch my way into his daily life, so he can’t quite shake me off. Then next week I will take things to the next step."

Yoongi nodded in approval. "I like it. Thorough and unexpected, just what we want. Let’s round back around next week and check-in. We’ll go over your progress and adjust as needed. You’re off to a good start."

You gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, sir."

With a wave of his hand, “Now go write, be amazing.” Yoongi dismissed you, and you returned to your desk, your mind already spinning with ideas. You were ready to dive into this full force, but there was one small snag, a small but persistent worry. You’d sent Jungkook a quick text yesterday, just a light “good morning” and a note about enjoying the date, but there hadn’t been a reply yet.

It wasn’t a big deal but already not responding to a text after a whole day was not sitting well with you.

Settling yourself down into your chair, that small disappointment from seeing that text on Jungkook's phone was still nagging at you. Your friends had warned you not to get attached, to keep things light, but you’d ignored them. They called this from a million miles away and you, like an idiot, let your guard down like always.

Well, not this time. This was just a job. No more emotional slip-ups.

“Damn it, I’m a writer,” you muttered under your breath. “This is just research. He’s just a random guy.”

With renewed determination, you opened your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as you drafted the first section of your article. Reliving the details of your first date, you kept it light and short because this wasn’t about how the first date went great, it’ll be about everything that happens now. You had your plan ready for action.

You were finally hitting a flow, words forming exactly as you wanted, when you heard footsteps stop just outside your cubicle.

“Special delivery!” Ann, one of the front-desk clerks, appeared with a bright smile, holding a small bouquet. "Someone’s got an admirer!"

She set down a small bouquet of sunflowers. The choice of flower surprised you most of all, you loved sunflowers. They were tied together with a with a purple ribbon and card attached to the end. Opening it, “A little bit of sun for a rainy first date. Thank you for listening to my fish facts. JK.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Ann cooed, lingering a moment to admire the flowers. She shot you a grin before heading back to the front, and you tried to keep your reaction composed.

You couldn't help but feel that small spark of joy, despite yourself, as you read the card. The sunflowers, your favorite, were unexpected and so charming. Tied with a cute ribbon that added a touch of thoughtfulness. You’d never been given flowers by anyone other than your parents and that one college boyfriend. Yet here they were, sent to your office, just for you.

If this had been any other situation, you’d probably be blushing and grinning like an idiot, falling head over heels way too fast. But the reminder of what you knew—what he was likely doing, the kind of guy he really was—kept you grounded.

As you stared at the bouquet, lost in thought, the telltale squeak of a chair wheeling over caught your attention.

“Wow someone’s special.” Ronnie rolled right next to you. “Are those from who I think they are from?”

"Looks like it," You replied casually, flashing her the card. "Just… a little thank you gift."

Ronnie waggled her eyebrows. "Oh, just a thank you gift? The guy sent you your favorite flowers, after only one date. You sure you aren’t already planning your future house decor with him?"

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your laptop, brushing off the teasing. "Maybe," But the flicker of disappointment crept back in. "If he hadn't got that text on our date. Then maybe this would be a sweet gesture. There's no way I'm getting attached to someone who’s probably chatting up another girl at the same time."

Ronnie gave you a skeptical look. "You still haven’t told me what it said, just that you went from mildly hopeful to permanently sour about him. Especially after you begged me and Jin to let you pick another guy before the date even ended."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "It was… friendly, if you know what I mean."

“Oh, friendly friendly?” she echoed, her voice heavy with implication. She winced sympathetically. "I’m sorry."

You shook your head, swiveling to face her. "No, no. We’re not doing the whole pity party thing. No look at Y/N she got fooled by another asshole again. This is work. I knew what I was signing up for with this guy, and it’s why I chose him. I can handle it."

Ronnie raised her brows. "Yeah, sure. You sound totally fine."

“I am fine,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “It’s all part of the assignment, right? A totally detached, unbiased observation. Think of me as an objective researcher.”

“Okay Dr. Detachment. How are you going to respond to these?” Ronnie glanced down to the flowers and then back up to you.

You opened your mouth to answer but paused, glancing at the flowers. You already knew what you wanted to do, but still… you weren’t quite sure how to play it yet.

Meanwhile, across town, Jungkook was still buzzing from his own bold move. He and Hoseok were walking down the street on their lunch break, and Hoseok eyed him suspiciously. Jungkook filled him on the details with a little too much spring in his step, never the way Hoseok had ever seen Jungkook act after a date.

“So… the date went that well, huh?” Hoseok finally asked, giving Jungkook a smirk. “You’re practically skipping.”

“Hey, I am not,” Jungkook grumbled, trying to keep his voice casual as he filled Hoseok in on the date. It had gone smoother than he’d expected, and he couldn’t ignore that spark of excitement.

Jungkook had done a little social media stalking when he spent the day with his parents yesterday. You used a sunflower in your bio and in a lot of your posts, so he took a guess that they may have been your favorite flower. It did take him a little tracking down though, since sunflowers were going out of season.

Hoseok grinned, giving Jungkook an approving nod. “So… flowers and a corny note? You’re going for gold.”

“Exactly,” Jungkook replied, a proud glint in his eyes. “I’m hoping she liked it. She’s into romantic movies and such so I thought it would be a good gesture.” Plus it was a perfect opening note since sending flowers is another classic romantic movie troup. “She should have gotten them by now.” He checked his phone yet again, his screen still frustratingly blank.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, “Does it bother you that she’s not immediately giving you all of her attention.”

Jungkook snorted, “No.” He paused but the silence between them hung a little too long for Hoseok to be convinced, “Okay maybe a little.”

Hoseok let out a laugh, shaking his head with an amused grin. "Wow. Didn’t know you were secretly a heartthrob under all that cool indifference. Who are you, and what did you do with Jungkook?"

“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered, fighting a smile as he looked away. “I’m just… giving this a real shot.”

“And you’re stressing out over whether she liked your flowers or not,” Hoseok added, raising an eyebrow. “Must be a real first for you.”

Jungkook shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I just thought I’d make an effort, alright? ” He glanced at his phone again, his thumb hovering over the screen before he stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Why do I feel like the grand romantic gesture wasn’t entirely about the bet?” Hoseok chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.

“It’s not because I’m actually dating her remember?” Jungkook replied, a little too quickly, then caught himself.

“You know,” Hoseok said, tilting his head, “there’s no law that says you can’t text her first, right? Might even make you seem… interested.”

Jungkook scoffed, his gaze glued to the sidewalk. “I don’t want to look desperate.”

“Dude, come on. Desperate is sending $50 sunflowers in November,” Hoseok replied, laughing as Jungkook scowled.

Jungkook sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “I just really enjoyed spending time with her. It’s different.”

“So shoot her a text, lover boy,” Hoseok urged, hit Jungkook lightly on the back of the head. “All the smooth moves in the world won’t matter if she doesn’t know you’re into her.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed just as Hoseok delivered his advice, catching him off guard. He glanced down and saw your name on the screen. His eyes lit up, and a grin broke across his face—so wide and boyish that it almost unnerved Hoseok.

“Speak of the devil,” Jungkook muttered, barely containing his excitement.

“Well answer it.” He shoves his shoulder.

Jungkook fumbles with his phone and steps off to the side to answer, “You’ve reached Sunflowers on the Go. How may I be of service?”

You humm on the other end of the line in amusement, “So it’s the strangest thing. I got this delivery of sunflowers here on my desk but I don’t remember placing an order.”

“Hmm, strange indeed,” Jungkook replied, grinning. “Turns out we only deliver to Composure magazine. No one else.”

What Jungkook wasn't aware of is you had him on speaker phone so Ronnie was also able to hear him. She brought her hand to her face at his cheesy responses. You also shook your head at absurdity.

“Oh, is that so?” you teased. “Well, there was a little card attached… signed by someone named ‘JK.’”

“Yep, that’s the guy. Don’t know him personally, but he seems pretty cool,” Jungkook said, leaning into the joke. Looking over at Hoseok who was drawing hearts in the air around Jungkook, Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Hmmm, I don’t know anyone named ‘JK’. Guess I’ll just have to throw these away then.” You play with the ribbon in your fingers.

“Whoa, whoa, hey! That’s mean!” He protested, laughing. You laughed as well at his protest.

“Okay but seriously how did you know these were my favorite?” You touch one of the petals, sunflowers were definitely out of season so he had to go to some work to find really fresh ones. “Or was it just a lucky guess?”

“I may or may not have noticed a pattern on your socials.” His tone was sheepish and you just shook your head.

“Ah, so you were stalking me.” You nod, you notice Ronnie roll on over back to her desk. Coming back with her phone in hand. She was typing frantically.

“Maybe a little bit.” Jungkook let a beat pass, “I guess more importantly do you like them?”

“They are very beautiful. Especially for this time of year.” You sigh, the gesture really was sweet. Might be fast for Jungkook to send flowers this early on but still sweet.

Jungkook let out a sigh he han’t realized he had even been holding in, “I do have to confess something. I was hoping this would make an opening for me to invite you to dinner.” He shifted from side to side, “Well I would be making dinner.”

“Inviting me over? Wow, bold move. So soon.” You smile, Ronnie giving you a knowing look and you brushing her off. “Would I have to do anything?”

“I will take care of it all, I need to or ove I can make a mean carbonara,” Hoseok gave Jungkook a look like he had no idea he had any cooking skill. “How about tonight?”

“I have plans tonight.” Which wasn’t a lie, you were going to work on some writing tonight. “How about Thursday?”

“Perfect. You’re gonna be impressed, I already know it.” Jungkook chewed on his bottom lip.

“I’m sure I will.”

With some goodbyes you both hung up the phone. You could suddenly feel your heart racing in your chest and you mentally scolded yourself. You needed to remember none of this was long term. Which Ronnie was taking the lead in reminding you about.

“For someone who claims to be totally normal about all of this, you sure are smitten.” She crossed her arms and eyebrow raised observing you, “He totally knew these would work on you.”

“I am totally normal about all of this. This is perfect, we are going on a second date and I get to start implementing my plan. Everything is on track.” You say but ash is looking back to her phone, “What are you looking at?”

“I’m trying to find his instagram.” She continued typing, not looking back up to you.

“Oh he doesn’t have one.” You remembered from dinner on Sunday. It wasn’t abnormal for someone to not have one but Ronnie was surprised.

“Boo, how am I supposed to dig up dirt on him?” Ash slumped down into her chair. You had actually done a little digging of your own the evening before though.

“Pretty sure that’s my job and I already did. He has twitter but he doesn’t post often. He keeps a pretty low presence online so I wasn’t able to learn much that way.” You sigh, it was actually a little refreshing although it did leave you guessing. Makes it tough to be intrusive in the next steps of your plan. “By the way, can you cry on command?”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow at your request, “I don’t but I think we both know who might.”

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Day 5

Thursday arrived, you and Jungkook spent the entire day texting back and forth just talking about whatever came to your minds. You found any excuse to ask him any random question. Send him random things you genuinely thought were funny. He also had something funny to say back or respond with. So you just let that be it, just texting and talking as much as possible.

Jungkook had spent the night before doing a practice carbonara. Watching some guy on youtube walking him through the steps. It turned out pretty good but he knew he could make a better one tonight. He got really nice ingredients that hopefully would push it over the edge. He really wanted to make a good first impression with his cooking. He had no issue inviting you over so soon after knowing you, he felt really comfortable with you already.

He hoped it wasn’t too forward, but you didn’t seem to mind.

He had a bottle of mid tier white wine in his fridge and he also got a red because he wasn’t sure what you would prefer. He also wasn't sure what would pair better with a carbonara. Jungkook dressed his table up all nice, it was nothing special but a candle classes it up a little bit. Classic romantic things. It felt somewhat awkward and made him cringe but also no one else was around to see his effort but you, and you would appreciate it.

Or at least he hoped you would.

He then heard a knock from his front door. He thought it was a little early for you to be here but he didn’t mind, he still was making the food and he could pour you a glass while you waited. He trotted to his door, a wide grin on his face as he swung the door open with some gusto, only to have his features fall.

“Channel?”Jungkook's face twisted into a confused but unamused expression, as she brushed past him into the apartment. “Please, come on in.” He said, his voice clearly sarcastic.

Channel looked like she was dressed for a night out and not for a very cold November evening at that. She had her hair curled and bouncy like it usually was, and the highest heel she could comfortably wear, clicking her way around Jungkook's apartment.

“I want my scarf back,” She had her arms crossed, strolling into the apartment with ease. She had been here enough times to know where everything was. “and since you won’t respond to my calls, here I am in person.”

“Okay, you couldn’t have texted me about this?” Jungkook let his front door close and followed after her through his apartment, as she tried to look under things and around furniture.

She laughed bitterly, “Last I checked, you’ve been avoiding my texts as well.” She continued her hunt around his space. Jungkook getting a little peeved since he spent a good amount of time trying to make his space look good for your arrival. Your arrival which would be really soon and this was not a good look for a guy as you clocked as ‘unserious’.

"I kind of have a life, you know? I can’t answer every text you send.” Jungkook kept his eyes peeled for the scarf, more than ready for this encounter to end.

“Yeah, right.” Channel’s voice dripped with disbelief as she followed him further into the apartment, her arms crossed. “I could tell Hoseok was covering for you.” She paused mid-sentence, catching sight of the dining table set for two, a soft candle flickering in the center. Her expression turned suspicious. “And… what is that?”

Jungkook looked back to the table and then back to her, acting like it’s always looked like that. “Nothing, now where is that scarf?”

“Your place is so… spotless,” she murmured, her eyes scanning every corner of his living room, taking in the lit lamps, the neatly arranged coffee table, and the faint smell of food coming from the kitchen. “Setting a mood, are we?”

“I mean, I clean often. I’m not a slob,” he replied defensively, trying to wave off her assumptions, though he could see she was putting it all together, one detail at a time.

Channel sniffs the air for a moment and then stalks over to the kitchen, “You’re cooking? You don’t cook.”

“Whenever he hung out, cooking really wasn’t a part of the schedule.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, aware that he was pushing her buttons. “I cook all the time.”

“Oh, I see,” She replied, her tone flat but her eyes flashing. She tilted her head, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “So, who is she, then?”

Jungkook sighed, not fighting her anymore, “no one, and she is coming over soon, let’s find your scarf so you can leave.”

But Channel didn’t budge, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms tighter.

“Oh no, no, no. You’re not brushing this off like that. Nice napkins, a candle? You set a damn table, Jungkook. What is this, some kind of date?” Her voice grew sharper with each word, anger and betrayal clear in her expression.

“That’s not really your business is it?” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, he needed to get her out of here.

Channel let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Not my business? You know what’s funny? All this time, I thought maybe we were building toward something real. And now, I see you’re doing that with someone else?” She scoffed, her face hardening. “What you just didn’t want this with me?”

Her words hung in the air, clear betrayal laced them. Him and Channel only had a sexual relationship, it’s what they agreed upon from the start. Sometime in there Channel developed some feelings for him and after a few months asked if they could take this more seriously. Jungkook wasn’t ready for that kind of step so they ended it all together. So now this all looks really bad.

Except, he thought, it’s none of her business if he did change his mind. He never lied to her, and he was always very clear that he did not want a relationship. He really didn’t, and this thing with you, although a part of a bet, was something he was dipping his toes into.

“Channel, that’s not it,” Jungkook said, sighing. “I never lied to you. I really didn’t want a relationship.” He hesitated, then finally admitted, “But I met someone, and…we’re trying things out and it’s brand new. So please leave.”

Channel’s face twisted in anger, her voice rising as she spat, “Oh, I get it.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking around his place with fresh resentment. “I bet you’ll dump her as soon as you’ve slept together a few more times. Because that’s what you do, Jungkook.”

He clenched his fists, frustrated but trying to stay calm. “You know, I’ve had enough of this,.” he said quietly, finally spotting the scarf stuffed into a seat cushion. He pulled it out, tossing it to her.

She caught it and threw it around her neck with a sneer. “So what is it about her, huh? What makes her so ‘special’ that suddenly you’re willing to commit?” She shot him a glare, stepping closer. “Maybe I should stick around and meet this one-of-a-kind woman. See what all the fuss is about.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, guiding her toward the door. “You’re leaving, now.”

She jerked away from his touch, folding her arms defiantly. “What? Is she coming soon?” Her eyes gleamed with spite. “You don’t want her to know what you’re really like?”

Jungkook let out a slow breath, gathering his patience. “No. I think she would be an adult and actually talk with me about it,” he replied, surprising himself with the honesty in his voice. “And whatever she finds out—that’s for me to tell her and her to decide. So, goodnight, Channel.”

She stared at him, anger simmering as she pulled open the door, glancing back with an icy glare. “Screw you, Jungkook.” With that, she stormed out, letting the door slam behind her.

At the same time she opened the door you were stepping out of the elevator and onto Jungkook’s floor. You spotted a girl storming down the hallway after yelling inside a doorway, as she passed you muttering a quick “Excuse me” without a second glance. You had an uneasy feeling about her, especially as she walked away from the very apartment number Jungkook had given you. You double-checked, confirming the number on your phone with the one she had just exited, and the sinking feeling intensified.

“Jesus Jungkook. At least have some class and spread out your dates so we don’t bump into each other in the hall.” You whisper under your breath, but you still had to go through with this as if you didn’t immediately feel a sense of dread.

You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. After all, you were here now, and nothing had technically happened to prove your suspicions. So you pushed them down, knocked on the door, and tried to keep your expression neutral, reminding yourself you were maybe a minute early—nothing too crazy.

The door opened after a brief pause, and Jungkook’s face shifted from guarded to bright relief when he saw you standing there. His lips curled into a wide, easy smile, like he was genuinely glad to see you. His hair was a little tousled, his shirt a snug, tucked into jeans that fit him perfectly, emphasizing his lean frame. He looked relaxed, casually put together, which was somehow infuriatingly charming.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm, stepping aside so you could enter. “Come on in.”

“Hi,” you replied, acting as if nothing felt off.

You stepped past him, letting your eyes flick around the apartment, taking in the details—the tidy coffee table, a low hum of music playing through the room. He had a nice living room set up around a TV on the wall, the dining setup with an actual candle in the center. He’d put thought into this, that much was obvious. You couldn’t deny it was sweet, even if it left you slightly off-balance, considering what you’d walked past in the hallway moments ago.

“Okay now looking at it now, the candle maybe was a little cheesy.” Jungkook cringed at himself looking at the little set up. You shake your head and wave him off.

“No, I think it's adorable. You even got a scentless one so it doesn’t cover the smell of the food.” You take a seat at the table, “I’m prepared to be wow’d like you promised me.”

“I unfortunately got a little bit delayed so I am not quite done yet.” Jungkook was shuffling his way back into the kitchen, “But make yourself at home.”

“Okay.” You smile as he rounds his way back into his kitchen, he watches you get back up and walk around his living space. Almost like he was waiting for approval. Luckily Channel hadn’t trashed the place.

You took note of all of the little things he chose to have on display, some books, a few polaroid cameras and some polaroid's on the walls, as well as a record collection that lined the side of the living room on some shelves. You thumbed through some of them to see what was available. Impressed with some of his picks, some similar to your own. His place wasn’t terribly big. Classic little bachelor pad. You had noticed he had chosen to keep what you could only assume was his bedroom door closed.

It was something Jungkook thought way too hard about, if he left it open was it like saying he wanted to sleep with you tonight? Would it be way too forward? Or was closing it just as weird? Was closing it like telling you that he didn’t really want you in his space? He went back and forth and then opted to close it to maybe say he wasn’t expecting anything to happen, although he wouldn’t mind if it did.

You on the other hand didn’t barely give it a thought other than noticing it. You picked up one of his polaroid cameras and brought it with you. You round your way back to his kitchen and stand off to the side watching him work. He was pretty zoned in on what he was doing, everything was really smelling great. You usually found it pretty hot if a guy could cook well.

Jungkook took an opportunity to try some of his work and you took a photo right at the moment he took a bite, his eyes widened right at the moment he realized he'd been caught.

The picture came out and you set it down to develop.

“I’m sure that will be super cute.” You laugh, setting down his camera as well. He laughs and you look over his shoulder to see how close he is to being done.

“Coming to inspect my work?” Jungkook glances to his side, seeing you peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He was almost done cooking.

“Maybe.” You tease, “I’m a sucker for people who can cook. I’m just… okay at it.”

“Well,” Jungkook stops what he is doing and reaches for a drawer next to him pulling out a fork and twirling some of the noodles onto it. Then holding the fork out to you. “I’m ready for your final score.”

You paused. Debating if you should eat the food off the fork or if you should take the fork. Would it send the wrong message if you ate off it? Or was that exactly what he was doing? The fork wasn’t very close to your mouth but not crazy far. You decided to just take the fork from him and take the bite.

It ended up being really good carbonara.

“Oh my god.” You smile chewing, “it’s really fucking good. Ten out of ten.”

Jungkook did a small fist pump to himself, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth hiding a smile. “I’ll admit, I did a practice run yesterday and it was just okay but I’m glad this one is good.” Jungkook then taking a bite of it himself with another fork. Jungkook upon tasting his own food smacking his own forehead and leaning back.

Causing you to laugh at his dramatic reaction.

You glanced at the polaroid on the counter picking it up to see if it had developed yet, it wasn’t fully done but you could see mostly what the picture would look like. You showed it to Jungkook and he smiled, “Ten out of ten picture. Best one of me yet.”

You looked at it and he did look like a deer caught in the headlights but it was funny, you set it down.

“I’ll admit I’m wowed, to be fair I’ve only had carbonara like one other time.” You lean against one of his kitchen counters watching him as he plates the pasta for the two of you.

“I’ll still take the high praise. Now, should we do a white or a red wine?”

“Hmm, a red works better with this I think.” You nod.

Jungkook tells you where you can find his bottle opener and some glasses. You managed to get the cork screw into the cork but seem to be lacking the ability to actually pull the cork out of the bottle. Jungkook finds some amusement in watching your struggle but you persist. You’ve opened plenty of wine bottles in the past, this shouldn’t be difficult.

“Having some trouble?” Jungkook watched you try and fail to pull the cork out a third time.

“Absolutely not. The cork and I are just having a disagreement.” You shake off your hand a few times and then get a better grip on the screw pulling upward as best you can. With some pathetic struggle, you really swear you can feel the cork moving. You let out a sigh as you let it go again.

“May I?”

“I swear I’m not that weak.” This honestly was just embarrassing at this point, so much so you have to face away from Jungkook at your next attempt.

You make one final grip on the corkscrew and twist and tug, finally the corkscrew and cork pop free. Not before your hand comes straight, hard and fast, into your own face.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook’s face changes as he sees you basically punch your own face. “Are you okay?”

You did dizzy yourself slightly but you set the bottle down. Feeling your face, hoping you hadn’t broken your nose although it certainly would be bruised or sore at least, “Okay maybe I should never open wine ever again.”

Your nose than began to pulse with pain, this definitely wasn’t a part of your plan for sure. you covered it with one of your hands but Jungkook pulled it away. “Here let me look at it.”

“Please tell me it’s not bleeding.” You groan, and Jungkook places his hands on both of your cheeks looking at it. You match his face and he looks genuinely concerned.

“Well, I’m not a doctor but you’re still pretty cute.” He then smiles and rubs one of his thumbs on your cheek. “That’s my professional assessment anyways.”

“Okay, but it still really hurts,” You say, letting your own hands rest on his wrists.

“Hey, it’s probably just a bit sore—no blood, no bruise.” He gently tilts your head from side to side in a silly, exaggerated inspection that makes you giggle.

It’s quiet between you both for a moment, Jungkook still holding your face. He just looks over your face for a moment, your nose was red but it was probably going to be okay. He had hurt his own nose a few times to know if it was broken.

Jungkook’s hands still on your cheeks, eyes meeting as he studies your face. It’s easy to get lost in the warmth of his gaze and how close he is. A little too easy. For a second, you find yourself softening, tempted by the thought of leaning in and just letting yourself enjoy this. But then, just in time, you snap back to reality, realizing you can use this little mishap to your advantage. This damage to your nose might have actually opened up a window for what you had been working yourself up too.

You pull your face away from Jungkook and shake your head, breathing in a heavy breath. Jungkook looked a little confused but then after a moment you were crying. You were crying?

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, “I was just teasing you.”

You wave your hands in a frantic show, your voice cracking just a little. “No, no, it’s not you. It’s just….” You let out a little sob. “I’m just so clumsy! And you made this beautiful dinner, and I’ve totally ruined it!”

Jungkook looks utterly bewildered now, glancing around as if the answer to your sudden breakdown might be hiding in his kitchen cabinets. “Really, I promise, you didn’t mess anything up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, almost nervously.

“Ugh, I can't believe this. I’m totally ruining the mood.” You wipe your tears away.

It was a good little performance. One that was planned.

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The evening before.

Day 04

“The art of crying on command.” Here you were again. Ronnie sitting next to you. Jin pacing back and forth with his notepad once again. Unfortunately for you, Jin was the person to have expertise on this subject being an acting teacher.

“Okay I already regret this.” You try to stand up but Ronnie pulls you back down onto Jin’s couch.

“This will help you!” Ronnie protested and leaned on you once you were settled back in. “This can be a part of your over dramatic persona you use.”

“Exactly! It gives you another tool in the toolbox for the charade you signed up for!” Jin pointed at you with his pen and waving it around.

“Fine, continue.” You wave for him to go on and Jin grins.

“Thank you! Now, there are three main techniques for crying on command,” he begins, pacing dramatically. “Some people can just…do it. They snap their fingers and—bam! Tears.” He snaps his fingers for effect. “Others need to go to a sad memory. Something personal and emotional, something that really tugs at the heartstrings. And then, of course, some people have to resort to…ahem, creative methods. Pepper in the sinuses, maybe a little poke to the eye…”

“Let’s please avoid self-injury,” you interrupt dryly, giving him a look.

“Fair enough. Let’s start with the basics and see if you’re a natural,” Jin says, jotting a note on his pad. “Close your eyes, focus, and let’s see if you can will the tears into existence.”

You sit up straight, trying your best to summon tears on command, forcing your eyes to feel…sad? Your face contorts into what you hope is a tearful expression, but as you blink, nothing happens. Your eyes are as dry as ever.

“Nothing?” Jin sighs and makes a dramatic strike-through on his notepad, looking deeply disappointed.

“Yeah, sorry,” You mutter. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Jin strikes something out on his notepad and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Cannot cry on command. So let’s try a memory, or is there a movie scene you can’t think about because it gets you teared up?”

You sit and think, you have some sad memories from your childhood that you bring to the front of your mind. Reminiscing on them, although some things are sad or bittersweet, nothing tear jerking.

“Dry.” Ronnie leans over and looks closely in your eyes, so much so you have to shove her face away from you.

“Dry.” Jin repeats and writes on his notepad.

“Maybe try going to the dark place?” Ronnie snaps and looks at you. “You always get really teary eyed when you think about dying alone.”

“Okay rude.” You sigh, it wasn’t untrue. Whenever you came back from dates that were unsuccessful or you wasted your time on someone who just wanted something casual you found yourself going to, what you and Ronnie have deemed, the dark place. “I don’t like thinking about that.”

“It’s for science!” Ronnie cheers, throwing her arms up like it's supposed to make it more fun or something.

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch. “I don’t know if this is such a great idea, honestly. When I start spiraling about my love life, it’s not exactly…mild.” You look down, already feeling a little prick of sadness starting to stir.

Jin comes and squats in front of you, “Well then just go to the edge of it and don’t think about the whole picture. What about dying alone usually gets you crying?”

You think for a second, and finally, the words come out quietly. “I guess… I cry when I start thinking that maybe I won’t ever find someone who’s…just right for me.”

Ronnie lets out a soft “aww” and nudges you gently.

You let yourself feel it for a moment—the uncertainty, the nagging doubt that, maybe, you’ll keep hitting dead ends. And with that, you feel a familiar, bittersweet ache starting to well up.

Jin nods approvingly, seeing a slight glimmer in your eyes. “Excellent,” he says, jotting down, potential crying trigger identified.

The vulnerability hangs in the air, and you let yourself lean into it a little. Lately, it felt harder and harder to keep going on dates, to believe that love might work out someday. You always seemed to be either too much or not enough—loving too deeply, too slowly, too intensely. It left you feeling drained, to the point where dating felt less like romance and more like a chore.

But with Jungkook, for once, you’d felt...hopeful. Like there was someone who genuinely wanted to share a moment, who put effort into making sure you had a good time. As unintentional as it was, you’d started to feel a little spark, considering the circumstances of your forced meeting. But as soon as you’d started to believe it, you reminded yourself it was all part of the act. You couldn’t let yourself actually believe it. You got your hopes up again, and they were ripped out from under you… again.

So you had slowly felt as time went on, you were losing sight of finding the one.

Then without even realizing it, you had a few stray tears fall from your eyes.

“Boom!” Jin erupted and sprang to his feet, “We have tears!”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

You gripped onto that feeling you let it force a few more tears out of your eyes. Unfortunately you did not avoid the personal injury part of the tears. So this was going really well for you.

You take a shaky breath, letting a few more tears roll down, making sure the sniffle that follows sounds especially pitiful. “Maybe I should just go home,” you say, voice wavering. “This along with my day… it’s all just been too much. You probably think I’m completely insane.”

You manage to start walking toward the door. Jungkook then panics for a moment, how did we go from laughing at you injuring your nose to crying and saying you’re going home? He felt like he had jumped three steps or something. You start toward the front door but Jungkook stepped around you, stopping you.

“Wait what?” Jungkook looked confused, “How did we get here? I don’t want you to leave.”

You sniff even louder, adding just the right amount of snotty dramatics. “No, I should. You barely know me, and here I am—an emotional wreck in your kitchen. It’s… it’s too much.”

“And? You just hit yourself in the nose really hard. I would be a little embarrassed and want to leave too.” Jungkook places a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Besides isn't the whole point of going on dates to get to know each other better?”

“I guess.” You wipe your face again, “I don’t know… I didn’t mean to just… fall apart like this.”

Jungkook sighs a little relieved, that could have spiraled further. “And just so you know, I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Well it’s still early, haven’t had a chance to go full blown crazy yet.” Which gets a laugh out of both you and Jungkook.

“Well I can deal with that I think.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “Besides, food is still good. Wine is still out and last I checked a bruised nose doesn’t stop you from eating.”

“Wait, is it actually bruising?” You reflexively go up to touch it, definitely tender to the touch and jungkook chuckles a little.

“I’m teasing. It’s only a little red.” He takes your hand pulls you back into his apartment, with a little reluctance from you. “Stay, at least for a little while. I’m not going to let you walk out of here feeling like this.”

You blink up at him, playing up a hint of uncertainty, but inside, you’re genuinely a little taken aback. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” He tilts his head to the side trying to meet your eyes, that had been darting everywhere else out of real embarrassment. “Look, I don’t care if you cry, I’m the biggest cry baby I know!”

You manage a small, hesitant smile, as if he’s starting to get through to you. “I find that hard to believe.”

Jungkook scoffs, feigning insult. “Oh, don’t underestimate me. Those ‘lost puppy finds his way home’ commercials? I’m done. I’m over here pretending there’s dust in my eyes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Okay, maybe I believe you… just a little.”

“There we go!” He looks genuinely pleased, his expression softening as he sees you relax. “So, if I’m willing to admit my crybaby tendencies, it’s only fair you stick around for dinner, right?” He tucks his bottom lip into his mouth in anticipation of your answer.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You say it with an air of nonchalance, trying to mask the small spark of mischief hidden behind your agreement. It earns you a relieved, borderline triumphant smile from Jungkook.

“Phew! You’re sparing me from a whole night of wondering if my cooking scared you off for good.” He grins, his dramatic sigh punctuating his relief.

“Oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes, feeling the perfect opening for a light jab. “If anything, the food is what convinced me to stay.”

Jungkook then serves dinner for the both of you. You both fall into easy conversation as you eat, he really did do a great job with the food. He was very considerate of making sure you needed anything else or pouring more wine when you wanted it. As well as making you laugh at almost every single turn. You really do get it why he got girls to go home with him so easily, between this and your first date the amount of confidence and charm that exudes from him is palpable in the air.

Jungkook would never show it but his lack of practice with dating has actually made this date and your last the most nervous he as been in a while. Jungkook’s mind is racing, carefully cataloging every response you make, every laugh, every nod. He wants—needs—this to go well, not just because he’d prefer to win $300 rather than lose it, but because, in his gut, he actually likes seeing you here, across from him. He catches himself wondering if he’s oversharing when he starts a story, or if he’s going on too long when he recounts his last trip. When you laugh at one of his stupid jokes, he relaxes a bit, but he still can’t quite shake that uncertainty.

You decided no more theatrics for the evening and let this play out naturally, how you would play out any other evening. Anything else would tip him off that maybe you were doing this on purpose.

After a while the two of you had moved into the living room, you had been flipping through his records again, you didn’t take a chance to look at them all earlier. He had a decent collection for sure so you got a good sense of the type of music he liked. You both had a few glasses of wine now and so the conversation had turned more and more flirtatious.

Noting the variety of music—jazz, a little classic rock, some alternative stuff. “You’ve got a good taste,” you say, glancing back at him. “This one,” you pull a record out with a slight smirk, “definitely says something about you.”

“Oh yeah?” He grins, leaning on the side of his couch as he watches you move around his shelves. “And what exactly does it say?”

You tilt your head, pretending to give it serious thought. “That you’re trying really hard to be cool. Just edgy enough.”

He laughs, though you notice he flushes slightly, brushing off your joke with a casual shrug. “Hey, everyone needs a little mystery. Or at least…a halfway-decent record collection.”

“Is that what you’re hiding?” you tease. “A mysterious vinyl collection? Or is it just your immense amount of fish facts?”

“Well, you’ll have to stick around to find out.” The words slip out before he can stop them, and he immediately kicks himself. It feels too... eager, a bit too close to something genuine. But he manages to recover, putting on a self-assured smile. “Not everyone gets to see my hidden jazz albums.”

You laugh, setting the record back and looking at him with a raised brow. “Guess I’ll have to consider myself lucky, then.” Finding a spot back on the couch with him.

Jungkook shifted in his spot so his body was completely facing you now. With the alcohol having set in, his eyes were a little droopy and he was smiling but he looked boyish. He found the more he was learning about you the more he felt fine with telling you things about himself.

“You look tired.” You poke his forehead. “Maybe I really should go.”

“It’s barely even late.” Jungkook takes your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m not tired at all.”

“Your eyes tell a different story.” You laugh, leaning your head against the back of his couch.

“Well what else are they saying?” He smirks, finding any reason to get a compliment from you.

You stare at them for a minute, you were trying to come up with something clever. “Well if I am translating this right… I can’t handle my wine.”

You laugh and Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Wow how did you know?”

“I have a thing for reading people.” You shrug. “What do mine say?”

He leans in really close looking between them. “Wow this guy is so hot and charming I really want to kiss him again,” Jungkook then gasps dramatically leaning away. “That’s scandalous, Y/N.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and get up from the couch trying to leave, Jungkook's hand pulling you back to standing in front of him. “You’re really full of yourself.”

“I’d like to think just a healthy amount.” He grins, Jungkook then places one of his hands on the back of your thigh. The warmth of his hand sends a shiver up your spine, but you do your best to keep your cool, not letting him see just how much his touch is affecting you.

You scoff with a half smile, “We’ll see about that.”

Jungkooks grin widens sitting forward on his couch, both of his hands finding their way to your hips. Tracing small circles with his thumbs, making it impossible for you to think. The way he looks at you—intense, unflinching, like he’s trying to figure you out—has you second-guessing your plans all over again, just for a second. This is what makes this hard, because the way he looks at you makes you believe every single word.

Many guys before have looked at you like this and you always fall for it, you always let yourself go for it.

It’s a little difficult to remember that right now though, your mind clouded by the wine.

You glance down to his lap for a moment then back up to his eyes that haven’t left yours. “Can I?”

Jungkook just nods, allowing you to take your place on his lap. Lifting your legs to either side of his hips. Jungkook really was not intending for this night to go this way but he wasn’t complaining if it had. He found you incredibly hot and would do whatever you wanted. His hands stayed planted on your hips as you found what felt comfortable.

“You’re pretty.” He smiles boyishly, he really did find you gorgeous and would tell you again and again if it wouldn’t be weird. The compliment makes you blush and hum.

“You’re pretty too.” You lace your arms around his neck. Both of your faces coming so close together now. Breathes intermingling for a moment, asking the same question. “You were right though.”

“About what?”

“I do want to kiss you again.” You catch the slight hitch in Jungkook's breath at your words, the way his fingers tighten on your hips, grounding you even as your heart races. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, searching your face as though he’s almost afraid this moment might slip away.

“I’m not one to protest.” Jungkook swallows for a moment, before you took no time to close the distance between you. Pressing your lips against his soft but certain. Jungkook immediately responds tilting his head to deepen it. One of Jungkook's hands sliding up your back to bring you closer to him. The moment makes you forget everything else, as you slide your tongue into his mouth.

For a moment, you allow yourself to sink into it, into the surprising tenderness of his touch, the quiet intensity of his kiss. You move your hands to cup his face, relishing in how warm you are now. You felt your whole entire body heat up, and small wetness in between your legs. Oh this was not good, you cannot sleep with him this soon.

Oh he probably knew exactly what he was doing though.

He would know exactly where to touch you and exactly how to make you moan and you had very little issues with wanting to let him do that. It would be so worth it, it would be so good. Except it cannot go past this, for your sanity at least. You needed to cut this off somehow, expect you kind of lead the night here. His tongue in your mouth was making it incredibly difficult to be logical. You could feel him probably already getting a semi and you really could not stop thinking about grinding on him.

You needed to stop though. Because this is a great opportunity to drive in that wedge between the two of you. One more way to mess this situation ship up, but not ruin it completely.

As you pull away from him, leaving his lap, you mutter, “Okay… Goodnight.” You force yourself to stand, feigning nonchalance as you gather your things, even though every cell in your body is screaming at you to turn back around. Jungkook is left blinking at you, visibly caught off guard, his hands awkwardly suspended in the air where your hips just were. He clears his throat, collecting himself as he scrambles to follow you.

Clearing his throat. “Hey�� um woah… was that not good or whatever?”

You pick up some of your stuff into you arm, “It was it was good. It was great.”

Oh god it was great, he was a really good kisser and your whole body was screaming at you to go back but you fought through.

Jungkook was confused by your answer and shook his head, as he continued to follow you, “Did… did I misread something? Because I was getting a vibe.”

You glance over your shoulder and manage to flash a casual smile. “No, you didn’t misread anything. I just… don’t usually sleep with someone on the second date. Kind of a rule.” You bite your lip, keeping the truth of it hidden.

“Oh.” Jungkook nods, a look of relief mixed with mild confusion crossing his face as he adjusts his shirt. “Right, totally. Cool cool cool. That’s more than okay and Makes sense, makes sense… you should have said something.”

“It’s a bit of a mood killer to say ‘hey, by the way, you’re not getting any,’ don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow, suppressing a grin.

You gather your things, amused by his honesty, and start toward the door. Jungkook trails behind you, letting out a small puff of air as he stares at the floor. Then, after a beat, he glances up with a sly grin. “So… just out of curiosity, not trying to be weird or anything, but what date number are we talking here? Fourth, fifth…?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, knowing full well he has no idea you’re just messing with him. “Higher.”

He frowns, looking genuinely curious now. “Sixth?”

“Nope.”

“Seventh?” He leans in closer, eyes narrowed like he’s reading the answer off your face.

“Higher.”

“Okay, when do you usually?”

You cross your arms, “Twelfth.”

Jungkook’s face barely changes, but you can see his jaw tighten just a little as he processes this. “Twelve… dates,” he repeats slowly, nodding as if he’s mentally mapping it out. “I mean, sure. That’s totally reasonable. Not a problem.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised at his lack of pushback.

Yeah.” He shrugs, putting on a confident smile. “Guess I just have to plan ten more killer dates.”

“Uh huh. I’ll believe it when I see them.” Jungkook then opens the front door for you.

“You're going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?” He watches you slowly step out the door with a wide grin on your face. He finds it cute and playful, he could tell you liked the chase.

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You say in a sing song voice, giving him a flirtatious wave as you walk up the hallway to his elevator.

Before you could get too far Jungkook decided to leave with just one last thing. Trotting up the hallway so he could catch you, taking your wrist and stopping you. “One last thing.”

Jungkook places a hand on your cheek and then kisses you. It surprises you but you welcome him, its one of those kisses that is so passionate and it makes your knees want to buckle out from under you in response. He uses just a little bit of tongue to send a shiver through your whole body, his hand warm against your cheek as he continues to kiss you just long enough to make you lose track of the hallway, the elevator, and everything else.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are twinkling with that trademark cockiness, but there’s something softer underneath, something that makes your heart do an unwelcome little flip. He grins, his hand lingering on your cheek for just a moment longer before letting go. “Goodnight.”

He goes back into his apartment as you retreat to the elevator. As you ride down, you let out a shaky breath, trying to process what just happened, and trying even harder to remind yourself why you’re supposed to be making him miserable. But as your lips still tingle from his kiss, you’re the one who is being thrown off balance now. This was continuing to prove to be difficult.

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Day 6

Jungkook is floating on air as he gets through his next work day. So much so Hoseok has taken notice of Jungkook's change in attitude. Really his whole attitude had been different all week. Not that he was particularly grumpy before or even usually in a bad mood, but he was in a good mood.

It was Friday night, and the familiar hum of the weekend buzzed in the air as Jimin and Taehyung once again convinced Jungkook and Hoseok to come out for a night of fun. Jungkook had been hesitant, his thoughts lingering on you. He’d been so busy lately, and while the dates had been great, there was something about tonight that made him want to see what plans you had before fully committing to the night out. But eventually, he decided he should just go—time with his friends, after all, was good too. Plus, there was that whole bet to think about, and he had a chance to subtly show Jimin and Taehyung how smoothly things were going with you.

When Jungkook and Hoseok arrived at the booth, they were greeted with their usual boisterous energy. Taehyung raised his glass, grinning widely. “Look who it is!” he said, motioning to the empty seats. As they sat down, the drinks flowed easily, and the conversation began to buzz.

However, Jimin and Taehyung had something else on their minds—Jungkook’s unusually good mood. While their conversation about random topics picked up, they were both trying to pinpoint exactly what had changed in him.

“So,” Jimin leaned forward, his voice a bit more teasing than usual, “what’s going on with you tonight? You’ve been, like, way too chill. It’s freaking me out.”

Jungkook paused for a moment, a little taken aback by the sudden observation. “What do you mean?”

Jimin gestured at him with a mock-serious face, “You're usually the one trying to take the night to the next level. Trying to make things more interesting. Tonight, you're just sitting here, all calm, looking like you’re, I don’t know, at peace or something?”

Taehyung chuckled at the thought, leaning in with a grin. “Yeah, what happened to the Jungkook who was out here doing whatever it took to keep things fun and exciting? You usually make sure the whole night has a direction. Right now, you’re, like... engaged in our conversation about cyber-security. That’s... not you.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, but he could feel the pressure mounting. He knew his friends had caught on to something, but they didn’t know why he was acting different. “I’m just… having a good day,” he said, his voice light and casual. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”

Hoseok snorted next to him and Jungkook gave him a side eye.

“You definitely would have gotten someone’s number by now but your eyes have been glued on us or on your phone this whole time.” Taehyung added on, which was usually true but Jungkook was glued to his phone. Hoping maybe he would see another text from you, secretly. Casually, in a totally normal way.

“So what gives?” Jimin pokes Jungkook in the arm.

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

Hoseok rolled his eyes, “It’s Y/N. The girl you set him up with for this stupid bet.”

“Oh.” It all clicked into place for the both of them but it was still weird, “She totally see through your act yet?”

Jungkook was caught off guard, the question cutting deeper than he expected. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Actually,” he began, his voice softening, “no. We had a really nice date last night. There is nothing to see through, I’ve been completely genuine.”

“Oh, really?” Jimin raised a skeptical eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

Hoseok, who had been mostly observing, finally chimed in with a sigh. “He’s been in such a good mood about it all day, I’ve actually been avoiding him.”

Jungkook shot him a glare, nudging his arm. “So that’s why you were dodging me earlier?”

Hoseok shrugged, chuckling. “Sorry, man, I just couldn’t listen to you go on about Y/N again today.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, glancing back at Jimin and Taehyung. “You guys are acting like it’s such a big deal. It’s just… going well.”

Taehyung raised a skeptical brow, his tone a bit annoyed. “So, you’re hitting it off?”

Jungkook smirked, raising his glass. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

That earned a laugh from Jimin and Taehyung. “Yeah, right.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head.

“All I’m saying,” Jungkook replied, his smirk widening, “is you two better get your wallets ready. In 24 days, you’re going to owe me big time.”

With a final grin, Jungkook set his glass down and excused himself, heading off to the bathroom. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jimin leaned closer to Hoseok, lowering his voice. “Okay, is it actually going well, or is he just messing with us?”

Hoseok took a sip of his drink, letting the suspense hang in the air for a moment before answering. “All I’ll say is… he sent flowers.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped, and Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Flowers?” They exchanged looks of disbelief, struggling to picture Jungkook—who hadn’t done more than text after a night out for years—sending flowers.

“What kind?” Taehyung asked, still dubious. “If they were just roses, it might’ve been for show.”

Hoseok gave an exasperated look. “Sunflowers. They’re her favorite.”

Jimin blinked in disbelief, his jaw still halfway dropped as he processed Hoseok's words. “Sunflowers?” he repeated, as if the specific flower choice made it even more surreal. “You’re telling me Jungkook not only sent flowers but remembered her favorite kind?”

Hoseok nodded, his expression one of mild amusement. “It’s like he’s on some kind of mission. Didn’t even blink when he mentioned it either—used it as his way to get the second date they had this week.”

Taehyung shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I don’t know who this new Jungkook is, but he’s full of surprises. Sunflowers? That’s not just impressive; that’s borderline romantic.”

“Borderline?” Jimin laughed, still trying to wrap his head around it. “He’s gone full-on romance novel, and for someone he’s been seeing for, what, a week? This has to be the longest he’s been interested in anyone, like, ever.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, chewing on his lip as he processed the surprising information. “Damn. This is serious.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok said with a small smile, finding some pride in a changed Jungkook. “So he’s not wrong when he says you guys are going to owe him. He’s actually putting in the effort.”

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look, stunned but slightly impressed. Watching Jungkook send flowers, remember favorites, and put his best foot forward was new—and honestly? They both knew they might just end up eating their own words. Which made them think, was there a way for them to slow this down, make it come to a halt?

It wasn’t an insane amount of money for either of them to lose, but it was much more entertaining to see Jungkook lose. Was there something they could do to mess this up but in a non asshole way?

If they didn’t, Jungkook was going to win the bet, but it had already become much more a bet at this point for him.

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 14 hours ago

Text

As if you care | Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: JJ and Rafe crash at the finish line of the Enduro Race. Just because you and Rafe aren't together anymore doesn't mean you weren't worried about his safety.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! I promise I proof read the best I could with a 13 month old running around getting into everything 😅

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

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** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

The beach was packed with onlookers, ready to watch the 2024 Enduro race and see who would take champion this year. Your feet dug in the hot sand as you made it through the crowd to the sideline where the rest of the Pogues were. JJ would be racing again this year hoping to turn his luck around and win this year.

You could see across the track the kooks gathering around. One in particular catching your eye dressed like he was ready to race. He was never one to participate in these types of things so seeing him there was a shock.

"Rafe's here racing?" You ask Sarah, watching as Rafe pushes his bike to the starting line, beside the other racers.

She too was confused by his participation, shrugging, "I guess so."

Shielding your eyes from the hot sun, you can see Rafe has noticed you, giving you a brief nod of acknowledgment before swinging his leg over the bike to mount it.

"Shit," Sarah says, "Why the hell is he racing?" She's immediately stomping through the sand toward John B where he too is pushing his bike to the starting line next to JJ.

You followed Sarah, heading for JJ.

"You here to give me a good luck kiss?" JJ teases you with a kissy face, leaning close to you, as Sarah leans over to give John B a kiss.

You shove him in the shoulder, laughing, "You wish, Maybank."

He chuckles mounting his bike, sliding his bandana over his head, "No see I think if you kissed me, I'd win."

You rolled your eyes at his flirting, "Try not to get killed out there." You grab his helmet off the back of his bike, handing it to him. You and JJ had grown close after breaking up with Rafe, but it never crossed a friendship line. He was flirty, but both of you knew there wasn't anything there. He knew you still loved Rafe.

"You see your boy is racing today?"

"Yeah," You reply. Before anything else is said, the announcer gives the racers the minute warning. "Be safe out there."

"Oh I'll be so safe," He drags out with a laugh, hand on his heart.

You can't help but laugh at the memory with Pope, heading back toward the sideline with Sarah.

Rafe slides his helmet over his head, starting his engine and revving it a few times. Even behind helmet you can feel his eyes on you. He felt the anger pulsing through his veins as he saw the interaction between you and JJ. He should have known he would lose you and you'd moved on by now. It only pissed him off more that it was JJ.

You and Rafe had dated for a year before you ended it. He'd started hanging around the wrong crowd, drugs and alcohol making him a changed man. He wasn't the Rafe you fell in love with and you'd tried everything to get him to stop, get help and go to rehab but he'd blown up, destroying your shared apartment in anger; broken furniture, glass littering the floor, holes in the wall. It left you terrified and you gave him the ultimatum. Get help or you were leaving him. Unfortunately, the group had their nails dug deep in him and he wasn't ready to give up his way of life yet. You'd packed up everything you owned from the apartment that night with the help of the Pogues and hadn't looked back.

It didn't mean you didn't care for Rafe. or that you ever stopped loving him. There was no way you could live like that with him and Rafe didn't want the help. You had to admit, you could tell he looked healthier there on the beach, nothing like he did when you left 6 months previous. He'd shaved his hair, his skin was tan and those dark circles under his eyes were gone.

Soon the race began, sand flying through the air. The announcers had people set through the track to see where the racers stood in standings.

At the beginning, Rafe was first, JJ falling behind. As they come around the last curve, JJ jumped the sand dune, putting him in first place. Rafe and JJ went neck and neck, bumping into each other.

They both recovered but Rafe went for him again, bumping his tire and sending both of them flying through the air, landing hard in the sand.

As the race concludes, Topper taking first, everyone stormed the track, you immediately went to JJ with the Pogues.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" JJ starts toward Rafe.

"Get use to it, pogue." He shakes the sand off his arms.

JJ lunges for Rafe and Rafe lunges for JJ, but you quickly jump between them, "Hey! Hey both of you stop it!" pushing them back by their chests,

"You could have killed each other! are you fucking crazy!" You spit out to Rafe of anger and worry for the both of them.

"As if you care." Rafe pushes your hand off his chest, his shoulder bumping into you as he pushes past you before storming through the crowd.

You make sure JJ's ok, before following after Rafe. "Rafe!" Your legs burn as they dig into the sand, his long legs making it hard for you to catch up.

He doesn't acknowledge you, unzipping his suit to his waist as he nears his truck.

"Rafe!" You finally catch up to him at his truck, grabbing his arm to will him to face you, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He faces you, his face red with anger, "I know I fucked up alright, but did you really have to go for Maybank?" He lets his trucks tailgate down to throw his suit and boots in the back. He doesn't give you a chance to answer, "Just go back to your boyfriend. I'll apologize later when I'm calm."

The slam of the tailgate makes you jump, but you recover, grabbing his arm, "JJ is not my boyfriend! You don't get to pull this bullshit. Not after all the shit you put me through. You seriously could have killed both of you! That was reckless; a stupid move."

He can see your angry and if he's not mistaken, even a little scared, "Why do you care about my safety anyways? It's not like we're together."

"I didn't stop caring for you Rafe. I just didn't deserve the way you were treating me and I left. You needed help and you wouldn't accept it. What was I suppose to do? Stay with you while you continued to wreck our relationship and your life? You destroyed our apartment; you broke furniture. put holes in the walls. I was terrified."

He lets his back hit the side of his truck, running a hand over his head as he looks down at the ground, embarrassed he let his feelings get the best of him. "You're right, I shouldn't have done what I did. Today or that night. I was in deep with that group and I should have got out sooner. You did the right thing leaving." He finally wills himself to look at you. His eyes are sad, "As much as it broke my heart to see you leave, you did the right thing. I wasn't in a good head space and honestly I don't know what I would have done to you. I'm sorry I even put you through what I did. You didn't deserve it."

"I forgive you," You lay your hand on his arm, "I just wanted my Rafe back." You say, tears threatening to spill over.

Rafe wipes a tear away with his knuckle, "I'm here."

You lean into his touch, eyes closing in the comfort of his touch. You missed him.

Soon, his hands are tugging you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and he plants a kiss against your hair. You can feel your entire body relax into his. Your hands move up his back, palms open against his shoulder blades.

"God, I don't deserve you." He says into your hair, giving you a tighter squeeze. He needed this comfort just as much as you did.

He's the first to pull away from you, hands sliding to your cheeks, "I've missed you."

You place your hand over his, bringing his hand to your lips, and kissing his palm, "I've missed you too."

The two of you start heading back to the beach, deciding you both needed the extra time together. Everything finally felt right in the world. Your hand in his as your feet dig into the sand, the orange of the sun dancing against the ocean's waves as it sets against the ocean's horizon.

"I can see you still let your emotions get the better of you."

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you toward him, "When it comes to you, I do." He says before kissing the top of your head.

I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed and so appreciated! x

#obx imagines #outer banks imagines #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfics #outer banks imagine #obx fanfics #obx fanfic #obx imagine #rafe cameron x #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female!reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfics #rafe cameron fanfic

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sayyestoheav3nn · 1 day ago

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Nights Like This: Part Three

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: language, angst

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: guys are we riding at dawn or not lmaoo??? if i forgot to tag you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list please feel free to lmk 💕

“Tell me what?”

Serena and Roman froze, which angered Zoe to another level, because it’s one thing to screw her over, but its another to play in her fucking face.

Roman turned towards Serena,“Give us some space…” His voice was stern, more of a demand than a request. Serena briefly looked at Zoe and sighed, she proceeded to grab her keys and walk outside.

“Where the fuck is she going, you both seemed to have a lot to say.” Zoe started walking towards the door to confront Serena, but as she was about to reach the door her movements were halted when Roman grabbed her by the waist gently pulling her back.

“Baby we need to talk, just you and me please…” he pleaded. Seconds later she heard a car engine start. This bitch really had the audacity to leave without saying a word.

“Oh so now you want to fucking talk? Because you damn sure didn’t have shit to say before I found the condoms,” Zoe sneered as she yanked her body away from him.

Roman paused and took a deep breath, slowly rubbing his hand over his beard, “Baby I fucked up, I’m sorry...”

“You’re sorry, is that really all you have to say?” Her voice cracked, she could feel her throat begin to tighten.

Roman felt like the biggest piece of shit. Seeing the exhaustion and pain in her eyes, hurt him. He hated to see her cry, let alone being the reason behind it. There was no excuse for what he did, and he knew it. Which is exactly why he didn’t want to tell her, but actions have consequences. He made his bed, it was time to fucking lie in it.

“Baby I—” As he began to speak Zoe cut him off, “Roman I’m gonna ask you this one time. Did you or did you not, cheat on me with Serena?”

Roman lowered his head, his gaze now shifted towards the floor. He paused in silence for a short moment, she could see his hands were slightly fidgeting. Roman briefly looked up at her, still avoiding making eye contact.

“Yes,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

Zoe’s heart felt like it was ripped out of her chest. She knew the answer, but she wanted him to have the balls to actually fucking say it. Tears that she had been fighting back started to roll down her face, sobs escaping her. “Fuck you, Roman.” She started to walk away, but was stopped when Roman walked in front of her stopping her in her tracks.

“Zo don’t leave, please just talk to me.”

“You’re such a piece of shit, I fucking trusted you. She wiped away some of her tears, which was of no use considering she couldn’t stop crying, “My best friend? Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve only met her a handful of times!” she yelled.

“I want you to tell me why, you wanted to talk, so fucking talk,” she hissed.

Roman’s eyes were glistened with tears, his shoulders were slumped as he inhaled a deep breath, “I—I came to her to help me plan our trip and your birthday dinner. I figured since I don't know shit when it comes to throwing parties, I’d hire someone who not only works in that profession, but someone who would know what you’d like.”

“Yeah it seems she ended up finding exactly what I liked,” she scoffed.

Roman put his head down, his voice getting lower, “I ended coming over at different times over the span of two months to approve some of the planning details. Little by little I noticed she was flirting more than usual, in the beginning I tried to ignore it, but over time I—I began to like the attention.”

Zoe felt sick to her stomach, she listened quietly while angrily wiping away her tears. She wanted to leave to avoid hearing this bullshit, but a part of her wanted to know why. Why would two people who claimed to love her, hurt her in the most disrespectful way possible.

Seeing Zoe silently crying made the pit of Roman’s stomach drop, he was disgusted with himself. How in the hell did he let something so stupid, jeopardize what he had? He loves Zoe, he couldn’t give two fucks about Serena. Yet, he let a moment of weakness ruin everything and hurt the one person he loved more than anyone.

He walked towards her, and gently lifted her face. “Baby, please look at me,” Zoe refused, and that fucking killed him.

“I don’t need all the details, just tell me what happened...” her lower lip was slightly trembling. She pushed him away, making sure to keep a distance between them.

“Before my last visit, I let my ego cloud my judgment. I went to the store, bought the condoms and headed over to her house.” Roman paused, he was internally struggling to say the rest, but he knew he had to, he owed her that. “We kissed, and she ended up giving me head.”

“Let me guess, you returned the favor?” Silence. Just as she expected. “Of course you did because you’re such a generous tribal chief, right?”

He took a deep breath, his chin dipping to his chest. “I went with the intention to fuck her Zo, I did. And I know that there’s no amount of apologies in the world that will change what I did, but I need you to know that I didn’t fuck her.”

“So you’re telling me the condom unwrapped itself?”

“I was going to fuck her baby, I was. But when the time came, I thought of you, and I just— I just couldn’t do that to you.”

Roman walked towards her, gently moving some of her hair out of her face, he wiped some of her tears away with his thumb. He felt a sharp pang of guilt seeing her so broken, the weight of what he did was fully sinking in his chest.

“Baby please look at me.”

She doesn’t know why she actually did, but she felt so numb as if nothing even really mattered anymore. She looked at his big brown eyes, eyes that she once viewed with love and admiration, she now saw with despair.

A few tears slipped down his face. “Zoe please understand that she means absolutely fucking nothing to me. I love you baby. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I lied to you, I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

“If it was me that did this to you, how would you feel?”

He sighed heavily, facing down. He couldn’t even say a word. What a fucking hypocrite.

“You knew all the bullshit that I went through with my ex, and you went and did this shit. I opened up to you, and you promised me you would never do what he did to me. I feel so fucking stupid to have actually believed you. The fact that you wouldn’t have told me shit had I not caught you makes me sick to my stomach. You want to know what I think Roman? I think you’re a fucking coward.”

Zoe grabbed her keys and headed towards the door. She didn’t care about leaving her things behind, that slut seemed to like her leftovers anyways.

“Zo, please don’t do this to me,” he pleaded. Every single emotion that she tried to hold in was released, she was crying uncontrollably. She ignored him and was able to get in her car.

“You did this to yourself. You don’t have to worry about me anymore Roman, you and Serena can go fuck yourselves.”

Zoe started driving home, but the farther she got the more her anger built. She pulled over at a store to park and try to compose herself, she was so mad her hands were trembling. The memory of Serena letting her cry on her shoulder while being the actual cause of her tears, and leaving without even trying to apologize made her even more pissed. Fuck this. She put her gps back on Serena’s address, enough is enough. The only thing on her mind right now, was beating this bitch’s ass.

#roman reigns #the tribal chief #otc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns fanfiction

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cherrycolored-punk · 2 days ago

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take a bite out of these

just an updated list of all of my favorite creators so far! I’m sure there will be plenty more added 🖤

thank you for sharing your talent and your amazing creations!

this is a little long so all recs are below the cut !

can also follow my tag #el’s fic recs

Eddie -

crash + fall by @trashmouth-richie - an ongoing soulmate AU series about my favorite freak that I’m already so very in love with and is written so beautifully.

she fucking hates me by @littlexdeaths - I’m still foaming at the mouth over this bully!Eddie x reader fic. it’s so fucking hot and I don’t think I’ll be over it any time soon (or ever).

after hours by @hellfire--cult - I am fairly new to the omegaverse and holy fuck what an introduction this was. I love a dominate Eddie and oh my god did Roe deliver.

sailor’s delight by @dr-aculaaa - this fic made me YEARN in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Drac is an amazing writer and I just wanna live in this little world they created.

let's go, don't wait by @carolmunson - the fic that has me questioning why none of my online dates have ever been this good. I fucking love this story so much, just wanna live in a world where teacher!Eddie falls in love with.

daylight by @abibliophobiaa - while I tend to stay away from pregnancy!AUs, this one had me hooked. It's cute, sweet, hot. I need a dad!Eddie stat.

twenty-four hours / coffee shop blues by @ghost-proofbaby - ghost is hands down one of my favorite Eddie writers. She writes him in a way that makes me fall in love time and time again. as a bonus, if you're a fan of astarion, she's written the moon will sing (i love you like the sun) which is just as beautifully written as the rest of her works.

the biology tutor by @mrsjellymunson - I binged this in a day, the premise and the smut were so damn hot that I couldn't get enough.

everlong by @andvys - this was my first introduction to andy's work and it has remained a favorite ever since. has so many amazing stories but there's something about a secret relationship behind Steve's back that gets me.

the yes policy / wish you were here by @pinkrelish - the way I lost sleep reading through both of these fics. I love the worlds that Alyson created and the version of Eddie she gifted us with. I've read them over and over again.

to know you’re mine by @blueywrites - I read through this series in a day, losing sleep may I add, because I was that addicted to it. I will admit, at first, I didn’t think it’d be my jam because of the swinger dynamic but holy shit does Bluey make it both tender and hot at the same time. I almost combusted. I seriously couldn’t get enough. She is an amazing writer and I can’t wait to read more of her work.

for your viewing pleasure / shelter from the storm by @rebelfell - the way Sarah has me absolutely on my knees for Eddie every time I read one of her fics…they genuinely leave me UNWELL (in the best way). like for your viewing pleasure? I was a little unsure at first (would I get jealous over a fictional man having relations with other fictional women?) but then I devoured it. it’s so insanely hot and she is one of the best smut writers on here. and shelter from the storm? pllleeeeasseee Eddie show up on my doorstep to check up on me in a storm. Please offer to get me there.

Steve -

we tried the world / she drives me crazy by @upsidedownwithsteve - if there is an author I equate with a character, it's Emmy with Steve. I was a diehard Eddie girl until I read her stories and fell in love with my favorite dork again and again. All her works are seriously a gift that I always return to.

all i really want is you / colors by @loveshotzz - the first author that made me even consider an older!Steve let alone fall in love with him over and over in every way she writes him. I will never be over either of these fics and re-visit them all the time.

we'll call it love by @superblysubpar - I've said before that this is part of my top ten and still is to this day. I revisit it often, falling back into this world. dreaming of this steve. story is so witty, funny and hot while also remaining tender in many moments. Also, simply the best - the title is pretty self-explanatory because the story is already that…simply the best. It’s ongoing but I am already hooked. I love the Spider-Man!Steve AU and Taylor is an amazing writer so I know it’s only going to keep getting better.

asking for a favor by @wroteclassicaly - this struck me right in all the perfect feels and Kristen has a way of doing that. I have a long to be read list but Kristen is all over it. She's an amazing writer and I love all her angst / smut.

Jonathan -

rise and shine by @eiightysixbaby - I hadn’t read a fic for Jonathan before, or really considered it, but man…this fic managed to convert me. Now I need him in the biblical sense.

Billy -

no charge by @hellfire--cult - oh. my. fuck. what a fast conversion this was to a Billy fan. Jaw on the floor, wondering why I don’t have a hot hot hot Billy knocking on my floor to give me the ultimate striptease plus 8 inches extra.

honey honey by @pastel-pillows - speaking of my fast train to a Billy fan, this is the fic that really started it all. He is so sweet in this, and I just ache for a soft Billy since reading this amazing fic.

@boltedfruit

@selineabanto

@xgumiho

@tubesock86

@stervrucht

@toktopus-art

@donttellunclesam

@littleststarfighter

@tellme-astory

@jemmacdraws

@obligatedart

@strangergraphics (graphics / headers / dividers)

@hugdealer (some of my favorites edited photos of Eddie)

@freckledjoes (photos / gifs)

@werewolfnat (formerly kingofscoops)

@djo

@steveharringtondaily

@batty4steddie

@emziess

most, if not all, of these are Eddie coded

you know I can eat you better than he can

getting hate fucked on your crushes bed by his best friend

post campaign pleasure with your dungeon master

your bully finds out you have a crush on him

#el’s fic recs #el’s rec list

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haunted-headset · 3 days ago

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he looks just like a dream ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

summary: dating headcanons w/ remus lupin

a/n: hello!! this is my most recent fic on this account and my first Marauders fic, so sorry if this is bad!! also, please keep in mind that even though i'm writing a fic about something tied to the Harry Potter universe, this does NOT AT ALL mean i like JK Rowling. i've liked her books since i was a child and have been separating the art from the artist for quite some time when it comes to this. also, i've written Remus in more of a modern situation, so keep that in mind :)

tags: @back-totheoldhouse @daemontargaryennn @o-kye @unbeleevable @mochamuff1n @call-me-frosting-or-not-idc @dangerouslyyour (this is me just guessing who would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be removed/added from the taglist!!)

warnings: nicknames with "girl" in them but otherwise gn!reader, mentions of crying, mentions of scars

boyfriend!remus who's memorized how you like your coffee or tea. or if you don't like either, he's memorized your favorite drink and has perfected it every time he makes it. you tell him it's not needed, that you can make drinks yourself, but he says it's worth it just to see the smile on your face.

boyfriend!remus who wouldn't dare tell you to cover up with a dress or outfit you're wearing when you go out ("any guy who tells their girlfriend/partner to cover up because it makes him uncomfortable or insecure instantly just proves he has a fragile ego accompanied by a micropenis.") and he'll only suggest a jacket if he knows it'll be cold outside. if you're happy in what you're wearing, why should he stop you?

boyfriend!remus who reads the books you're reading to have an extra thing to talk to you about and to ensure he understands what you're describing when you rant about how much you either love it or hate it. "yeah I know, I can't believe he did that!" "seriously, the way the writer set up the plot is terrific." "what was the author thinking? the plot makes no sense."

boyfriend!remus who always gives you his clothes. his soft beige knit sweater? of course you can wear it to our date. you need to borrow his beanie because it's cold outside? please do. you want to wear his shirt to bed? just keep it, he thinks it looks 10x better on you.

boyfriend!remus who takes you on all sorts of dates. library dates, lego building dates (which turn into laughing hysterically because one of you doesn't understand the instructions and the other one does understand, but can't find the right piece), cafe dates, aquarium dates, baking/cooking dates, late night walk/drives dates...the list goes on (i will happily elaborate on any of these if asked). he may or may not stalk your pinterest to find out what dates you like

boyfriend!remus who subtly shows you off to the marauders. he's usually a little bit touchy with you in public (a hand on the small of your back or intertwined with yours, his arms around your waist or shoulders, etc.), but he does it more around his friends. it's not any sort of intentional possessive thing (like "grrr my bbg is mine you can't have her raaah"), he just likes people knowing he has a gorgeous partner :)

boyfriend!remus whose room is littered in random trinkets, some of which he'll randomly gift to you. a silver pocket watch he found with intricate details because he thinks you'd like it. a rock or crystal he says looks like your eyes. a flower that he found because he remembered the one time you said "what a pretty flower" when you accompanied him on a walk. a stuffed animal he found at a yard sale because it was your favorite animal. the list goes on.

boyfriend!remus who mainly shows love through acts of service and physical touch. your shoe's untied? he's getting down on his knee to tie it. your books are a bit heavy? he'll carry all of them for you. you're not feeling good? he's doing your homework.

boyfriend!remus whose nicknames for you are mainly "dove/dovey", "baby", and "darling". he calls you "sweet girl/pretty girl" when you're sick, under the weather, or sad, "my love/my dearest" when he knows you're upset, and "sweetheart" when you're in an argument.

boyfriend!remus who would be terrified of showing a lot of skin around you because of his scars mainly because he doesn't want you to be disgusted. he knows deep down that you wouldn't, but it's a deeply-rooted fear for him.

"Remus, your friends have scars. Does that make them ugly or bad people?"

"No."

"Some of the teachers you like have scars. Does that make them ugly or bad people?"

"No."

"I have scars. Does that make me ugly?"

"Of course not, dove."

"So then why do you think scars make you ugly if they don't make anyone else you care about ugly?"

#remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #mauraders #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #remus x you #remus lupin fic #remus lupin drabble

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writerfae · 2 days ago

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Here’s a proof that I am capable of writing Aiden interact with people that are NOT his brother or Talon xD Feat Maya cause she deserves more content (plus a little lore drop)

“So, why are your freckles white?” Aiden blushed slightly. “Excuse me if this is rude to ask,” he added, scratching the back of his neck.

Maya laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you why. You know, I’m not a typical fae. I wasn’t born normally like Talon or Halea. I am what people call a wishling…”

Aiden raised a brow. “A wishling?” He never heard about that before.

Maya nodded. “A fae born from a wish. It’s made possible by an ancient ritual. For generations, those who could not have children on their own used it to get a baby. Childless couples or people that didn’t have a partner but still want a child. Just like my mom.” Her voice softened at the mention of her mother. Aiden understood all too well.

“As you know,” Maya continued, sweeping a stray lock of hair behind her ear gently.

“She was human, but back in the old days even humans made use of this kind of magic. And since my mother was a follower of the old ways - something the people you and I grew up with would call a witch -“

She chuckled. “She knew about that ritual. She didn’t feel the need for a partner, but she wanted a daughter more than anything. Someone she could raise and teach her all she knew, like it was tradition in her family, daughter passing on knowledge to daughter. Someone she wouldn’t be so alone with.”

Aiden nodded. He could understand that. Who didn’t want to drown out loneliness with love, no matter what kind of love?

“And how did she do it?” he asked quietly.

“How exactly this ritual works I don’t know. Just that it requires your blood and… an already existing form of life, like a young animal or a plant, that the life of the child you want can sprout from.”

Aiden’s eyes widened. That sounded kinda ominous. But also really intriguing. So he remained quiet, letting Maya continue.

“In my case it was a fawn that was under my mother’s care. Mother performed the ritual and the next morning, instead of the fawn it was me lying in the hay, a baby that had her mother’s hair and her grandmother’s eyes.”

She smiled fondly at the last sentence.

“So…” Aiden wasnt quite sure if he understood this right. “You were once a deer?”

Maya laughed. “Yes and no. My life had its source in that of a deer, but it wasn’t a life I lived. It is… like a previous life. A rebirth, if you will.” That made sense. Kind of. Aiden couldn’t deny that he was curious.

“And do you remember it? Your previous life?”

“No. Most people don’t remember their previous life. Or do you remember yours?”

That question took Aiden aback. He had never thought about this before, hadn’t really considered that he had lived a life before this one. “No, I don’t…”

Maya smiled. “That’s what I thought. I don’t have memories of what was before. But, and this leads us to your question, a small part, a mark of the life a Wishling was born from remains visible, a reminder of the sacrifice. In my case, it’s the white freckles.”

“Like the white spots on the body of a fawn.”

She smiled. “Like the white spots on the body of a fawn, yes.”

“That’s pretty cool,” he said. “It looks nice on you.”

Maya’s cheeks colored a little at that. “Thanks, Aiden.”

Aiden returned her smile. “Thank you for telling me. And not being offended.”

That made Maya laugh. “No problem.”

tag list: @andifthestarsweretodie @bloodlessheirbyjacques @bluehourskyeli @deadlycupid @dustylovelyrun @justafrogandherumbrella @ladywithalamp @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @my-cursed-prince @phantasticdomains @rhikasa @sleepy-night-child @soupopoireau @theguywithnonickname @vampywriter @vsnotresponding @writing-is-a-martial-art (if you want to be added or removed from the tag list let me know!)

#I’m back yet again with writing from the void #writer speaks #writeblr #wip: the knights of the alder #writing #my writing

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swee7dream · 2 days ago

Note

hi very late but may I request a cute cg!jaehyun taking care of a VERY fussy little!reader hehehehehhehehehehheheh cant wait to see what u write :)) (saying this bc I was very late but I saw you saying like a week or 2 after u saying u wanted to write jaehyun fics..)

no ! ( but okay ) caregiver ! jeong yoonoh x age regressor ! reader

genres age regression content , fluff warnings reader has hair long enough to put behind the ears dni nsfw / kink author's note FAV MOOT . i will go to war for you . as someone who is extremely fussy when small , you and i are cut from the same cloth . hope u like it ! tag list restarting ! lmk if you would like to be added .

“No, no, no…”

“Come on, Honey.”

“Not finish yet.” You ignore Jaehyun’s gentle hand pushing the hair behind your ear, scribbling your crayon furiously to the paper on the floor like a painter struck with genius inspiration.

“Can we finish this later? Tomorrow, maybe?”

“No, no, no, no, no…”

Jaehyun’s eyes flutter shut. You’ve entered your ‘no’ phase all of a sudden and it has been carving at his patience. It’s not that he never wants you to say no, but when it comes to eating your lunch or cleaning up your toys or changing out of your outside clothes for comfy, clean inside clothes, he can’t deny it’s frustrating. He just wants the best for his baby, why can’t you see that?

“Baby.” He looks down at the phone in your other hand, currently shining a terrifying (in Jaehyun’s opinion) four-finned shark-dinosaur-thing. Papers surround your curled-up ball self on the floor, each one detailing a different kind of dinosaur. “The dinos need to sleep too, baby. We need to start getting ready now so you don’t forget to brush your teeth ‘cause you’re just so sleepy.”

“Nuh-uh. Dinos can’t sleep. They’re dead.”

His shoulders slump in his crisscrossed sitting position in front of you. It’s difficult to keep up with the canonical and non-canonical existences of your baby world.

“Okay… maybe. But when they were alive, they had to sleep.”

“…maybe.” You throw him a bone! Finally, it only took an hour.

“Yeah?” He places a hand over the screen. “There are those pretty eyes. Hi Honey.”

“Hi, Hyunnie.” You frown. “Hyunnie let go.”

“The phone told me he’s very tired and would like to go to bed now. Sorry, baby.”

“Not true, phones don’t talk.”

“Mine does.” He gives you a look that says ‘so embarrassing for you…’

You squint at him, unamused.

“Hyunnie let go.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. My hand fell asleep. Right here.” He shines his dimples at you innocently.

“Let go!” Your blue crayon is left forgotten to roll under the couch as you pull and pull on Jaehyun’s arm.

“No!” He sings, finally taking matters into his own hands, quite literally, by pulling you onto his lap. “Bed time. Bed time for my baby.”

He rocks you side to side, cheek resting on the top of your head as he confines you in between his arms.

“No!” You squirm around but to no avail. “No bedtime. No tired!”

“Mmm, yes!” You feel his lips press to your head. “Bedtime, bedtime. Time for jammies and teeth brushing and stories. Doesn’t that sound fun, baby?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No-o-o-o-o-o!” Your voice shakes as Jaehyun’s soft rocking turns more into a shake one would give only to a potato sack.

“Ye-e-e-e-e-es!” He smiles down at you as he finishes his best imitation of your little tantrum.

“No.” You frown up at him, but his eyes catch the quirks at the end of your lips that you fail to push down.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes!” He attacks your cheek with a kiss, littering your face with them as he continues. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“But why?” You give in, allowing yourself to go limp in Jaehyun’s hold.

“Because,” He mocks your whiny tone. “It’s late. It’s late and you get really mean when you don’t sleep enough.”

“That’s not true!”

“Hey.” He pinches your nose. “Why are you fighting me so much lately? It absolutely is true and you know it. Do you want Hyunnie to be all sad and weepy tomorrow? I’ll cry. You know I will. Wanna see? W-”

“No!” You giggle, putting both your hands up to cover his face. “Don’t wanna see Hyunnie sad. But am just no tired, Hyunnie.”

Another kiss to your palms lets Jaehyun see your face again.

“But I am. Can’t you just get ready for bed with me? It’s so scary to be alone.” He pulls you into his chest, squeezing but never too tight. “So scary! I need my Honey to help me!”

“Not scary, Hyunnie.” You giggle. “But okay. Honey help!”

“Really?” He pulls you away to meet your eyes and bumps your foreheads together. “Really really? For reals? How many reals are you talking?”

“All the reals!” You beam.

“Oh, thank you, baby. You sure are doing Hyunnie a solid.”

—

You didn’t realize how cold you were until you put your pajamas on, soft and warm, still smelling of laundry detergent. It’s like wearing a blanket and you rub the fabric against your arms to warm yourself up some more.

Your socks slide against the wooden floor as you hear Jaehyun take his turn to brush his teeth in the bathroom. You left a total mess! Your artwork is all over the floor, what if you lost one?

Not feeling like wanting to clean up at the moment, you put your crayon box on the coffee table to put it in its proper place tomorrow.

Wait.

You’re missing one!

Where did it go?

You hum to yourself as you gather all your drawings in a neat pile, making a mental note to yourself to date them all in the morning. You search under the table and behind pillows and blankets. Where is your green crayon?

“Ah-hah!” Jaehyun spots you back in the living room, face to the floor.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“Found my crayon, Hyunnie. Thought I lost it.” You lift yourself up, pulling your hand out from under the couch to show it to Jaehyun proudly.

“I’m glad you didn’t lose it, Honey.” He smiles. “But you didn’t have to get on the floor for that. You’re gonna get your jammies dirty.”

“’s okay! Needed my crayon.” You kneel over to slide the crayon back amongst its brethren in the paper box.

“Don’t you have a lot of other ones?” He helps you up by the hand.

“Not the same. Different shade o’ green.”

“Mmm, makes sense.” Jaehyun notices the pile of paper on your arm. “You’re taking your drawings to bed?”

“Yeah. Not tired so Honey’s gonna do storytime today.”

“Oh, really? Thank you, baby. You’re gonna teach me about dinosaurs?”

“Yeah.” You flop onto the bed. “Dinosaurs are super cool.”

“But aren’t they scary?” Jaehyun flicks off the light in the middle of the ceiling, warm soft light from your nightstands keeping the room from complete darkness.

“No. ‘cause they’re dead,” You explain simply.

“..right. I forgot that for a second.” He lifts the covers and slides inside the bed, shivering at the still-cold sheets. “Your drawings are just so good, baby, I thought they were pictures.”

“I get that a lot,” You say, rubbing your head against his arm. “You ready?”

“Ready Freddy.”

“Who’s Freddy?”

“I don’t know.” Jaehyun pauses to think. “Someone who’s ready, I guess. Go on, baby. Show me your dinos.”

“Okay!” You go through your pile of drawings and end up deciding on your most recent creation. “This one’s not finished, but it’s called a Liopleurodon. It existed in the Jurassic period. It was an apex predator—that means that no one could fight it and win! It just went chomp chomp and everybody died.”

“Oh, I see. It’s kind of like you, in a way.”

“What?!”

author's note ( pt 2 ) sorry for taking so long ! i have no excuse , just trying to deny the reality of valentine boy being gone . haven't been keeping up w nct lately bc of irl stuff + the boycott so if anyone has a google drive or anything like that for sm artists , pls lmk ! and as always , comments and constructive criticism are accepted and encouraged . just be nice or i will be finding your loved ones ' contact information and telling them you're CYBER BULLYING . hope everyone is having a good day and if not i hope it gets better !!

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thehereticdiaries · 2 days ago

Text

I Make You (You Make Me): Chapter One

Summary: After auditioning for a backup dancer position for the idol group Enhypen, you do the polite thing and shake everyone's hands before you leave. But when you make contact with one of the members, your soul mark burns Warnings: This chapter is literally all fluff

The HYBE building was absolutely daunting. The sun reflected off the glass and metal, making it difficult to look at. You took a deep breath, swallowing your nerves and wiping your sweaty palms on your joggers before stepping into the cool air of the lobby. You approached the woman typing furiously behind the front desk, her glasses sitting on the edge of her nose.

“Hello, I’m looking for the Enhypen auditions?” You politely greeted the older woman.

“Photo ID and audition invitation.” She didn’t even look up from her computer to address you, causing your anxiety to spike again. You handed her the requested documents with shaky hands. Her sharp eyes scanned over your ID and letter, then to a list of names taped to her desk. She returned your documents and provided a visitor tag. “Take the elevator to the right. The studio is on the third level, number 307.”

You mumbled a ‘thank you’ and followed her directions to the dance studio. You were among 20 candidates for the backup dancer position for the swiftly approaching comeback. You stood in line and focused solely on keeping your breathing steady. It was your turn after what felt like an eternity of waiting (it was only 15 minutes). You stood in the center of the room facing four men sitting in chairs and holding clipboards. You recognized two of them as members of Enhypen, although you couldn’t remember their names. The other two must be the lead choreographer and manager. They were the names on the audition invite.

“Hello, I am Y/N L/N, and I will be performing my own choreography to Mirage by Lindsey Stirling,” you introduced yourself with a bow. They nodded and began the track, which they had queued up along with the other candidates’ songs. You took your position and emptied your mind, just like you did before every competition. You put everything you had into the dance. You panted as you relaxed from your final position.

“You said you made your own choreography?” One of the Enhypen members asked with a tilt of his head. Shit, what was his name? Ricky? Ricky sounded almost right. You nodded.

“Yes, this was for my final competition right before I graduated from university.”

“Did you go to school for dance?” The oldest of the four men chimed in. You had to assume he was the manager.

“No, actually, I have a teaching degree. I was planning to teach Korean and English literature. But I did competitive dance for a little under ten years,” you explained, fidgeting with your fingers. You weren’t expecting to be asked any questions.

“So what made you apply for this position?” The other Enhypen member furrowed his eyebrows.

“To be honest, I haven’t had much luck finding a school willing to hire me, since I’m only 22 and a foreigner,” you sighed. “I saw the ad online, and figured there was no harm in applying.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, are those bands on your fingers your soul mark?” The manager pointed to your hands. You looked down at the bands of solid black circling the base of seven of your fingers.

“Yes, they are. And no, I’m not sure if it means I have seven soulmates or if they’re all tied to one,” you answered the question you knew would be the follow-up. The manager nodded, making a note on the paper in front of him.

“Thank you for coming in, we will be in touch to let you know if we have decided to pick you for the position,” the manager stated with a final nod in your direction. You thanked and shook the hands of the manager and choreographer. When your hand connected with the Enhypen member to the choreographer’s right, the band on your left pinky burned. You yelped, yanking your hand from the young man’s grip to clutch your mark. You rubbed your pinky to soothe the sting, your motions coming to a stop when the black band slowly morphed to a pale purple.

“Ni-ki, are you okay?” You looked up to him staring at everything in the room with his jaw dropped.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” Ni-ki dropped his eyes back to you. He suddenly held your face with both hands to pull you closer to his face, causing you to squeak and flush a light pink. He seemed to be analyzing your features, flicking his gaze over your hair, your cheeks, and your lips before landing on your eyes.

“Ni-ki, what on earth has gotten into you?” The manager asked incredulously.

“Her eyes are blue,” he muttered while running a thumb across the skin under your eyes.

“Oh… oh! You got colors! You found your soulmate,” the other member grinned and shook the youngest by his shoulders. Ni-ki rolled his eyes and reluctantly released you from his grip. You shook yourself out of your daze.

“Sorry, I’m probably holding up the auditions. I’ll wait outside until everything is finished, then we can talk.” You bowed clumsily and stepped back in the hallway, missing the curious look from the cat-eyed member and the longing from Ni-ki. They knew you were right, though, so they didn’t protest. You sat on the floor a few doors down from the audition studio. There were still seven people that still needed to go, so you pulled out your phone to google the Enhypen members. You identified the other member in the studio as the leader, Jungwon. You fell down a rabbit hole of interviews and fan compilations in an attempt to memorize all of their names and faces.

“Y/N?” You jumped at the sudden intrusion. Jungwon had poked his head out of the studio to let you know they were done, but he was now stifling his laughter.

“You guys are done already?” You checked the time and sure enough, almost a half hour had passed. You followed Jungwon back into the studio, sitting on the floor in a small triangle with the idols while their manager, Minjun, observed from his chair. You and Ni-ki immediately dove into a quiet conversation, each of you wanting to learn more about your soulmate. Jungwon looked at you with that same curious expression as when you left after your audition.

“I have something I want to test,” he interrupted. You turned to him, eyebrows raised. He hesitated for a split second before gently intertwining your hands. You winced when you felt the burning on your soul mark again, this time on your right pointer finger. The three of you watched as the band changed from black to red.

“How come yours is a different color than mine?” Ni-ki questioned. You shrugged, unsure of the answer yourself.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out over time.” You looked up from your newly colored mark to Jungwon, who was typing quickly on his phone. “How did you know?”

“Your emotions,” he started and dropped his phone into his lap to return his attention to you. “I have the shared emotions soulmark. I felt how nervous you’ve been today, especially when you introduced yourself and your song. I had a feeling even before you gave Ni-ki colors.”

“I assume you told the other boys,” Minjun quipped. Jungwon nodded. You were very happy you decided to look them up earlier. “I’ll be back, then. I need to gather some paperwork for Y/N to fill out.”

“You think the others are my soulmates, too?” You pondered after the door closed behind Minjun.

“It’s definitely possible. I’ve heard a couple other groups share a soulmate,” Jungwon noted. “ITZY and P1Harmony have gone public with their soulmates. TXT, Xikers, and Aespa are still private with theirs, but they’ve told some other idol groups.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know so many–” You were cut off by the door slamming open. You clutched a hand over your heart, shouting a Jesus fucking Christ in English.

“AH!!” Jake beamed and pointed at you. He turned in circles, almost too excited to pick one thing to look at.

“Show her, dumbass!” Someone teased from the hallway. Jake turned and moved closer to you then lifted part of his shirt. Across his left hip bone, in bold black letters, was the phrase “Jesus fucking Christ”.

“I am so sorry!” You hid your face in your hands. “Ugh, why did I curse?! I wish I said something nicer.”

“It’s okay,” Jake chuckled and wedged his way between you and Jungwon. “It’s easy enough to cover, plus it’s funny as hell.” The other four members filed into the studio. Sunoo froze by the door to stare at you.

“Alright!” You clapped to get everyone’s attention (which was already on you anyway). “My soulmark is physical, so I need everyone to touch my hand or something. Oh, and tell me what your soulmarks are.” The first to step up was Heeseung. He pulled the collar of his shirt down to reveal your initials printed underneath his collarbone. Him and Jake turned the bands on your left middle and pointer fingers into a rosy pink.

“I have a red string connecting my thumb to your chest,” Sunghoon grinned and ran the thumb with his string across your cheekbone. The band on your right middle finger turned the same shade of red as Jungwon’s. The burning was intense, but you needed to confirm all of the bonds.

“You glow for me.” Sunoo was still entranced by the pulsing gold light surrounding your body. He simply patted your hair before sitting between Sunghoon and Ni-ki. Your left ring finger’s band changed to pale purple. The last to approach was Jay, who sat right in front of you.

“I don’t know what my soulmark is,” he admitted. You nodded and held your hands out to him. He took them into his own, changing the band on your right ring finger red. His smile dropped ever so slightly. Nothing changed for him.

“Nothing?” Jay shook his head and you smiled sadly. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s not your fault.” He started to pull his hands away, but paused when he looked at your palms. They were a deep, forest green. Jay’s eyebrows pinched together in concentration. He ran his fingers down your forearm, a trail of green following his touch.

“What do the different colors mean?” Jake peeked over Jay’s shoulder, who was still running his fingers across any patch of exposed skin in fascination, smiling so hard his eyes were almost closed.

“I’m not really sure,” you shrugged. Sunghoon tapped his chin. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head.

“Maybe it shows different types of bonds,” he started. “Not all soul bonds are the same, after all.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. “I’ll probably figure out what the colors mean as I get to know all of you.” The door opened again and Minjun stepped back into the studio, tablet in hand.

“So?” The elder probed, one eyebrow arched. You held up your hands to show off your now-colorful fingers. “I can’t say I’m surprised. For now, I just need you to sign a standard NDA. I have to discuss more specifics with the managers of the other groups that share a soulmate.” Minjun handed you the tablet. You barely skimmed the agreement before signing and dating the form.

“Is this going to affect my chances of getting the backup dancer position?” You asked as you handed the tablet back to the manager.

“That is part of the specifics I need to ask about. If you’d like to spend time together, please do so here or at their dorms until we do a security sweep of your home.” Minjun tucked the tablet under his arm and left the studio once more.

“Let’s go to the dorms. We can order food and get to know each other better,” Jungwon suggested and stood to grab his bag.

“Dude, we just left them to come here!” Jake groaned. “Why didn’t you just bring her to us?”

“You know Minjun wouldn’t let us without confirming that she is actually everyone’s soulmate.” Jungwon held the door open and gestured to the hallway. You followed the boys as they made their way back to the dorms.

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen

Series Taglist: Open, send an ask or comment to be added

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #yang jungwon x reader #lee heesung x reader #park jay x reader #park jongseong x reader #sim jake x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #park sunghoon x reader #kim sunoo x reader #ni ki x reader #nishimura riki x reader #soulmate au #fanfiction writer #writing

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misswynters · 3 days ago

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* • misswynters Arcane masterlist

here is the list of all my works!

note l it would greatly appreciated if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you!

last updated: november 12, 2024

all smut is marked with a (18+)

reminder: links aren’t working rn so go to the click the tags and you can find it <3

Viktor

Broken & whole | The Noble Daughter (18+) |

Jinx

– nothing yet

Violet (Vi)

Distrust

Caitlyn

– nothing yet

Ekko

– nothing yet

Sevika

Brothel (18+) | Strapped up (18+)

send requests to my inbox!

if you would like to be added to my taglist for arcane or anything else let me know!

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cutedisneygirl · 2 years ago

Text

Love online

Chapter 4

Sorry it has taken me so long to post this. I will get next chapter up soon.

Warning: There are not many, just a little language in this chapter.

The next few days go by slow. Merida and Chris continue to talk through texts on Instagram. Tiffany still won't believe that it is Chris Evans and keeps telling Merida to be careful. Thursday during nap time Merida posts a picture on Instagram.

Disneydoggrl83❤️ I miss my girl! So much!

Captaindork-liked

liked

Captaindork- Hey! I just saw your post. Those are good pics. I wish there was something I could say or do to help you through this.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Thanks. I will be okay. Its just still hard. It's hard going home knowing she won't be there. I also hate going to sleep at night and not having her beside me.

Captaindork-I know exactly how you feel. Its hard when I am gone for work and I don't have Dodger beside me. Maybe this pic will help.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️That's funny :) and true for us.

Captaindork-Yep. So you have plans this weekend?

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Tiffany is coming over and we are having a girls weekend. She is taking me somewhere tomorrow night.

Captaindork-That sounds fun.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Yeah. I don't know what she has planned. With Tiffany who knows. Hope she doesn't embarrass me.

Captaindork-how could she embarrass you?

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️well tomorrow is my birthday and I know she will tell the waitress or waiter.

Captaindork-Oh! Well maybe she won't embarrass you. ☺️

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Yeah. Well I need to get going. It's time to get my kids up.

Captaindork-Okay. Have fun. Talk to you later.

Merida got her kids up from nap and changed their diapers, gave them snack and played with them in centers for a little while till they went outside. That evening when Merida got home she was tired. She changed into her pjs and after fixing her self a salad she sat on the couch and watched Avengers Endgame. While she was watching she looked at Instagram.

Dodger lying on Dodger

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️liked

Awww ☺️

Captaindork-Hey! How was work today?

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️It was good. I'm tired. My kids wore me out.

Captaindork-Aww well at least tomorrow is Friday!

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Yes. I am glad. I am ready for the weekend.

Captaindork-What time is Tiffany coming over?

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️She said she was picking me up at 6

Captaindork- :) I'm sure you girls will have fun.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️As long as she doesn't embarrass me!

Captaindork-maybe she won't. Well hate to cut this short, but I need to get to bed. I have a long day tomorrow. I probably wont' be able to message you until later in the day. I will be on set all day!

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Okay. I understand. Hope you have a great day!

Captaindork-Thanks. You too. ☺️

Merida finished her movie then cleaned up her dishes and after she brushed her teeth, took her contacts out and washed her face then climbed into bed. She had another wonderful dream about Chris. When her alarm whet off the next morning she groaned. She rolled over and saw she had a message.

Captaindork-Good morning Merida! Happy Birthday! Hope you have a wonderful day! Have fun tonight!

Awww, Chris is so sweet. Merida thinks to herself. She saw he had sent it at 4:30 am.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Thanks! I love the picture. I will let you know how it goes ☺️

Merida got up and got ready for her day. She got a quick shower, changed and then got herself a bowl of cereal and some coffee. After she finished she quickly washed her dishes and brushed her teeth then left for work. When she got to work she saw someone had decorated her door.

Merida smiled and walked into her classroom. She started her day. She changed diapers and played with her kids in centers. They painted, built towers and read books. The day seemed to drag. At nap time one of her coworkers brought her a piece of cake they had made. She sat and ate her cake and scrolled through Instagram. She didn't see anything from Chris. She remembered him telling her he would busy on set all day. She didn't hear from him at all. She missed talking to him during nap time. When the end of the day came, she cleaned her room and headed home. She got a quick shower and got dressed. She decided to dress up a little.

The star necklace was a gift from her father for her last birthday. By the time she finished applying her make up, she was changing her purse when she heard the knock on the door.

"Hey girl!"

"Hey! You like nice. I love that dress! I don't think I have ever seen you wear that before."

"Yeah I got it a while back but never wore it."

"It looks good on you. Are you ready to go."

"Yep. Let me just grab my purse. I was in the process of changing purses when you knocked on the door."

Merida left the room and was back a few minutes carrying her purse.

"Alright lets go."

The girls headed to Tiffany's blue camero. As Tiffany was pulling out Merida says, "Oh Chris messaged me this morning and wished me happy birthday. He sent me the cutest picture."

Merida shows Tiffany. Tiffany glanced at it then back to the road.

"Is it all the Disney characters?"

"Yep. Most of them."

"That's cute. Are you still thinking it's really him?"

Merida didn't answer.

"Merida, I'm telling you. It's a scammer. They are telling you its them, but they are fooling you. They are good! They know what they are doing. Please don't let them get to you. Don't believe everything they tell you alright?"

Merida didn't say anything back she just nodded her head. It was quiet the rest of the way to the restaurant. Merida didn't know where Tiffany was taking her. When Tiffany pulled into Olive Garden Merida got excited. Olive Garden was her favorite restaurant.

"Tiffany! Olive Garden! Really?"

"Yep. I know its your favorite."

The girls get out and head in. It is a little crowded. Tiffany goes up the podium and tells the lady how many.

"It will be about 15 minutes." She hands Tiffany a buzzer.

The girls sit down and wait.

"Merida."

"What?"

"You know I love you right?"

"Yeah I know."

"I am only looking out for you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know."

"I..."

Before Tiffany can finish what she was going to say the buzzer goes off.

"Looks like our table is ready," Merida says. Glad the conversation was over. She didn't want to argue with Tiffany and she knew that, that was what was going to happen.

The girls followed the lady to their table.

"Your waitress will be right with you. Enjoy."

The girls start looking at their menu. Merida knows she wants to order peach tea. She doesn't have tea often, but she always orders it when she comes to Olive Garden. Its her favorite.

"Get whatever you want. This is on me."

"Thanks."

A waiter comes to the table.

"I'm Ryan and I will be your waiter this evening. What I start you ladies off with to drink?"

Tiffany looks at Merida. "I'll have peach tea."

"Good choice. And you miss?" he says looking at Tiffany.

"I'll have just regular sweet tea."

"Alright. Any appetizers?"

"No thank you." Tiffany says.

"Alright. I will be back shortly with your drinks."

Ryan left and the girls were alone.

"So has Chris posted anything on Instagram recently?"

"No. He's been busy filming all day."

"Is that what Captaindork told you?" She said giving her a raised eyebrow

"Yes that is what he said."

"Mmm, well I'm sure he is busy. He is still working on his new movie. Which I do want to see by the way."

"I'm still trying to decide if I want to see it. It's not really mind of movie. It looks rough."

"But its got Chris Evans. I told you we can go and just drool over him."

Merida laughs. "Right. I'll think about it."

Ryan comes back with their drinks.

"A peach tea for you," he says setting it down in front of Merida.

"And a regular sweet tea for you," he says setting it down in front of Tiffany.

"Have you ladies decided what you want to order?"

"Yes, I want to the Chicken Alfrado."

"Do you want that grilled chicken?"

"Yes please."

"Salad or soup?"

"Salad."

"And you miss?" he asks looking at Tiffany.

"I want the 5 cheese ziti al forno."

"Would you like soup or salad?"

"Salad."

"Alright. I will have your salad and bread sticks out to you soon."

Ryan left and the girls were alone once again. Just as Tiffany was fixing to speak Merida's phone went off. She pulled it out of her purse and looked.

Captaindork- ☺️hope your bday dinner is going well. And your welcome for the pic. I saw it and had to send it you. Hopefully Tiffany hasn't embarrassed you.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Not yet. But the night is still young ☺️ We are at Olive Garden

Captaindork-Nice! Great place! I'll let you enjoy your dinner. Talk to you later ☺️

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Okay! And yes its my favorite restaurant. Talk to you later. I will let you know how it turns out. ☺️

Captaindork- ☺️👍

"Who are you talking to? Him?"

"Yes. He was saying he hoped my dinner was going well."

"Oh, so you told him where you were going?"

"Well this morning, I didn't know. But I just now told him where I was."

"So he knows your not home!"

"What? Well ya."

"Merida! Never, ever tell a stranger your not home!"

"Tiffany, relax. He doesn't know where I live or anything. We have never gotten that pacific."

"Good! Don't!"

"Geez, you think I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid!"

"I never said you were stupid. Naive at times maybe but not stupid!"

Merida didn't say anything back. Ryan returned with their bread sticks and Salad.

"Would you like cheese on your salad?"

"Yes."

Ryan spread cheese on the salad then put it on the table.

"Your food will be out shortly."

Merida put salad in her bowl and after Tiffany got hers, Tiffany said a prayer thanking them for the food. Merida remained quiet and ate her salad.

"Merida, I'm sorry."

"Tiff, its okay."

"I know your mad at me. I know how much you want to believe its him. But it's not. Actors don't message fans."

"Tiff, I said I'm fine. It's okay. I know your looking out for me. It's okay."

"Alright. As long as we are cool and your not mad at me. I can't have my bff mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," Merida smiled.

"Good."

The girls finished their salad and talked a little about their day. Merida told her what her coworkers did for her at work and about her kids. Then Ryan returned with their food. He put cheese on both their bowls.

"Enjoy!"

Ryan leaves and the girls dig in.

"This looks so good!" Tiffany says.

"Yes, its been so long since I have had this."

The girls eat and when Ryan comes back to check on them Tiffany says

"It's her birthday."

"Oh it is! Well Happy Birthday! I will bring you a dessert in a few," Ryan says looking at Merida and smiling then leaves.

"Tiffany!"

"Hey, you get a free dessert!"

"Yeah but now they are going to sing to me!"

"So, you get a dessert!"

By the time the girls finish their meal Ryan is back with the rest of the staff and they sing happy birthday to Merida. The rest of the staff leave. Ryan sets the brownie and ice cream down in front of Merida.

"Happy Birthday! Enjoy," He smiles

"Can I get you anything?" He asks looking at Tiffany.

"No thanks."

"Alright. Well enjoy. I'll be back with the check." He smiles once again, then leaves.

Merida looks up and sees Tiffany smiling at her.

"What?"

"That waiter was flirting with you."

"He was not!"

"He was!"

Merida takes a bite of her brownie. "Would you like a bite? Its good."

"Sure." Tiffany takes a bite. They end up sharing the dessert. Ryan comes back.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Nope, I think we are good thanks." Tiffany says.

"Alright. Well here is your check. Just let me know when your ready. You girls have a goodnight," He smiles again looking at Merida then walks off.

"Girl! He is so into you!"

"He is not!"

Tiffany opens up the black book where the check is.

"OMG!"

"What! What's wrong?"

"Look at the bottom of the recit."

Tiffany shows Merida the check and at the bottom is says.

Have a goodnight ladies. And to the birthday girl! Hope you have a wonderful night. Your beautiful! Call me 828-253-9701

"OMG! He gave me his number!"

"I told you he was into you."

"Well I'm not calling him."

"Why not?"

"Tiffany!"

"What?"

Tiffany pulls out her wallet and takes $50.00.

"Your leaving him all that! How much was the bill?"

"He was a good waiter!"

The girls stand up. Merida grabs her purse and they head out. As they leave they see Ryan behind the reister and he smiles at them and waves. They get to the car.

"I think you should call him."

"No! I am not calling a guy I met at a restaurant!"

"But you will talk to someone you met online!"

Merida glares at Tiffany then looks away out the window and keeps quiet.

As Tiffany pulls out of the parking lot she says, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That was mean. Forgive me."

"Sure."

Tiffany arrives at Merida's house and after Merida unlocks her door the girls head inside.

"Why don't we go ahead and get into our pjs and watch Disney movies?"

"Okay."

The girls change into their pjs. Merida pops some pop corn while Tiffany finds a movie.

"Why don't we watch Robin Hood first."

"Sounds good." Merida says carrying the bowl of popcorn.

Just as the movie starts Merida hears her phone. She looks down and sees it's a video call from Captaindork

"OMG!"

"What?"

"Chris is video calling me. The last time he did it, he said it was an accident."

"Answer it. I want to see him for myself."

Merida hits accept.

"Hey!"

"Shit! I did it again. I'm sorry."

Merida laughs. "It's okay. I wondered if you did it on purpose this time."

"No, I was fixing to message you and I hit the video by mistake. I am not use to using Instagram this way."

"It's okay. Tiffany is right beside me just so you know." Merida says turning the screen a little so Chris can see her.

"Hey Tiffany. So you're the friend I have heard so much about."

"That would be me."

"So how was dinner? Did Tiffany embarrass you?"

"Yes! She told the waiter it was my birthday and then he and the rest of the staff sang to me."

"But she got free dessert and the waiter has a crush on her."

"Oh is that so?"

"Tiffany!" Merida said elbowing her.

"Yes, he wrote his number for her at the bottom of reciet."

"Oh did he now?"

"Tiffany hush!" Merida said elbowing her again.

Chris laughs.

"So are you calling him?"

"No!"

"Why not? Sounds like he might like you."

"I'm not calling him."

"Sounds like I have some competition." Chris smiles.

Merida just smiled. She didn't know what to say. Tiffany just shook her head.

"So what are you girls up to?"

"Well we are fixing to watch Robin Hood and eat some popcorn."

"Sounds fun. I'll let you watch your movie. Have fun. I'll talk to you later. Goodnight Merida."

"Goodnight Chris."

Chris ends the call. Merida looks over at Tiffany.

"Do you still think it wasn't him?"

"It certainly looked and sounded like him but I'm telling you they can fool you. They are good."

"Okay whatever, lets just watch the movie."

"I did sense a little bit of jealousy though when we told him about the waiter."

"What! No."

"Yes. He did say he had some competition."

"Well he doesn't have to worry. I'm not calling Ryan."

"Well maybe he will call you."

"What! How?"

"I might have written your number at the bottom of the receipt." Tiffany says smiling.

"You did not!"

Tiffany smiles and starts the movie. When the movie ends the girls decide to find something on tv. Merida sees the movie The Greatest Show Man on.

"Oh! I love that movie! Lets watch that! I know its your favorite!"

"No!"

"Why? I thought you loved that movie."

"Not anymore."

"Why not?"

Tiffany is quiet for a minute.

"Tiff. What's wrong? Tell me."

"I don't like Zac Efron anymore."

"Why not? You use to love him."

"Used to!"

"What happened?"

Tiffany is quiet again for several minutes. She takes a deep breath then says, "I was scammed by someone pretending to be him."

"What! When?"

"A year ago."

"Why did you never tell me?"

"I was embarrassed. That's why I have been so hard you. The same thing happened to me that is happing to you. He messged me and made me think it was him. He video called me and it looked just like him, sounded just like him, but it wasn't him."

"How did you find out it wasn't?"

"Well at first I didn't think anything about it when he told me to send money to meet him. Said he would help me with what he could, but that I had to send a little."

"You didn't!"

"I did!"

"What happened next?"

"Well he kept on asking for money!"

"You didn't give him more did you?"

"I told him I couldn't send anymore."

"Then what happened?"

"He kept on asking. Saying he really wanted to meet him and that it was the only way for me to meet him. That he wished he could just come to NC to see me but he couldn't."

"What did you do?"

"I told him I wouldn't send anymore money. Then a few days later his profile on Instagram was gone and then there was a message from Zac Efron on his page about being aware of scammers pretending to be him. That he has not messaged any fans."

"OMG! Girl I'm sorry. Wish you had told me."

"Yeah. So now you understand why I am so hard on you."

"Yes I do."

"So be careful alright."

"I will, but Chris has not asked for any personal info or money."

"Yet! Zac didn't at first. We talked for a month before he started asking for it."

"Oh. Well thanks for telling me."

"Your welcome. I care about you girl and want the best for you."

"I know you do. Thanks."

"Oh and by the way. I do have a gift for you, but I left it at home. I couldn't bring it with me. I didn't want to leave it in the car while we went to eat. I will get it tomorrow."

"Oh okay. Well you didn't have to get me anything. The dinner was enough."

Tiffany smiled. "So what do we watch? Oh how about this?"

She asked clicking on The Last Song.

"Sure, I like that movie."

The girls watch the movie. The whole time Merida is thinking about what Tiffany told her. If all she said was true, which she knew it was, she knew Tiffany wouldn't lie to her, Chris could be fake. But Merida just knew in her heart that it was really Chris Evans she was talking to, but she knew she needed to be careful after what Tiffany told her.

#@cevansbaby-dove @katherineswritingsblog #if you would like to be added to the tag list just let me know.

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ghostedbunnie · 2 months ago

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nightmare in the daylight

knight!ghost x fem!reader

based on my prompt that you can find here.

warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶

Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.

The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.

After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.

The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”

A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.

After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.

Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.

“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.

You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly.

"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.

"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.

"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.

“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.

“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in.

“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach.

With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.

His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.

His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.

You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.”

You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.

“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.”

If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.

You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.

“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.

Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”

At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.

Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.

taglist: @a66-1 , @ghostlythots , @rttxcmt , @september-22-1998 , @fluffysmiko , @gyusbrownie , @bumblebeesfromvenus , @magicalforestcat , @nommingonfood , @tami-doodles , @fateisnotafactor , @m-a-l-a-c-z-a-r-n-a , @nicolebarnes , @msdevil333 , @lilpothoscuttings , @tealeaftallulah , @not-reptilian , @moonfloweronmars , @aliceinwonderland-5678 , @marshmelloe , @i-love-you-just-the-same, @lazyperfectioniste , @tragedyinwaves , @thisisforthebest97 , @talkingcorn , @hxnneydew , @resplendantrosewood , @telvannitea , @the-casual-act , @hello-lemons, @kiwicopia , @just-a-sewer-goblin

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #x reader insert #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #bunnie writes #tw noncon #tw dubcon #simon riley x reader #cod smut

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sunarc · 1 year ago

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Exes who convince you to get back with them by fucking you until you’re cumming and making a mess on his cock. He’ll have you in a mating press just so he can get a perfect view of how your pussy clenches around him. He knows every spot to make you tremble. He’s cocky about it. It’s almost a cycle for him. You’ll storm out telling him how you’re done with his shit. You'll slam the door telling him you never want to see him again. Yet somehow you always end up in the same position, ankles resting on his shoulder taking his cock babbling about how you love him so much.

“Mmh, I love you so much baby” your words are a memorized pattern that you always find yourself drooling whenever you’re with him.

He chuckles, eyes never leaving the area where you two connect. The squelching sounds of your hole are almost as loud as your moans

“You love me baby?” he groans “ This pussy loves me too, listen to how she’s purring”

His thrusts are rough. You’re almost positive the neighbors are sick of the two of you. He’s in a trance. All he can think about is making you cum on his cock. The way your hole squeezes him only fuels him. He can’t help but admit how much he missed this. The way you call his name is like music to his ears. He hasn’t heard your pretty voice beg him to let you cum in so long. He’s savoring this moment. His hips meet your roughly grunting each time he bottoms out.

“Thought you said you were done with me” he knows he should be thankful he has you back but he’s so cocky he can’t help but tease you a little. You look away embarrassment flooding through you.

“Look at me baby” he growls “ Look at how much your pussy missed me” his eyes are trained on the way you suck him in.

“You missed this cock didn’t you?” He knows his words are getting to you. Your whimpers grow louder. All you can do is give in and admit your truth.

“Missed you so much baby” your voice is shaky. Your eyes meet his and he has a smirk on his face hearing your words. He places his hand on your stomach, feeling where his cock is.

"You feel that baby?" his eyes switch back and forth between the creamy mess your making on his cock and the bulge that shows where his cock presses inside of you.

He leans down to put his head into your neck to leave wet kisses. His hands wrap around you pulling you close. His groans fill your ears and for a moment you want to never hear anything other than that again.

“You’re mine” his words match his thrust You can feel yourself growing closer to your orgasm. "Say it" he growls. His thrust are sloppy. His mind floods with his claim over you. You want to speak, to give him an answer but you feel so fucked out of your mind all you can do and whimper and moan. He chuckles watching you practically go dumb from his cock.

“I guess i gotta fuck you until you remember who’s pussy this is”

Matsukawa, Atsumu, Kuroo, Osamu, Suna, Sukuna, Toji, Gojo, Tsukishima, Semi, Geto

tag: @smoothopz , @ykimobessed , @mizloca

let me know if any of you would like to be added to my tag list for other works

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rqnarok · 1 month ago

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thinking about being old man!logan’s little housewife...

headcanons - cws/tags: sexual content, mdni! old man!logan. dom/sub undertones. age gap. both characters are of the age of consent. unprotected p in v. 18+ only.

logan’s all worn out. there is no justification made on depicting how done he is with the world. he lives his days in an accustomed routine - dread crawling on his scarred skin - digging the soil for his own grave.

when he meets you, however, the horror, the panic, and the terror begin to fade away from his blurry orbs—replaced by the sight of your sugary sweet smile. you kept him calm by easing down his drinking and self-destruction. and he just can’t deny you, not when his dick gets so fucking hard when you’re around.

you can’t help it either. the need to fix someone seems very familiar in your generation—so sentimental and at the same time, pragmatic. never accepting ‘no’ for an answer, including when he tries to back you down by saying “ya’ don’t want me, kid. i’m an old dog.” as if sunlight to a plant, it only motivates you. leaving him flushed red and burrows knitted after you whispered filthy remarks to his ear.

up to the point where he finally tears down his prejudices towards marriage and puts a shiny ring on your finger.

he turns a blind eye to anyone glancing at him weirdly at how much older he looks compared to you, his salt-and-pepper beard not helping either. when charles notices the changes in him—how he seems to smile more and how hickeys sprawled up on his neck—he just can’t help but make snarky comments about it. logan’s too old for you (or so charles told him), and logan finds himself balking at that.

“if she doesn’t want it, she would’ve left already.”

he’s right. if you didn’t want it, you would’ve left him. oh, but you stayed. and not only did you stay, but you also took care of him. letting you eat out the palm of his hands.

greeting logan when he comes back from his blue-collar work, cooking and baking his favorite foods, ironing his work clothes and spraying the fabric with a lovely scent, kissing his bloodied knuckles, putting the prettiest outfit for him as a show, warming his cock when he sits lazily on the couch, nuzzling his thighs while you wait for him to get harden again, and letting him have you anywhere and anytime he wants.

logan keeps a polaroid of you while he’s away. a reminder to himself that he has a home now. he’d keep it in his wallet or his jacket pocket or hanging it on the car’s rear-view mirror. how empty was he to be so full of you now?

he never thought he would live a life like this—like how it is supposed to be. without you knowing, logan added one or two hours into his shift so that he could earn more extra pennies. the money he’ll use to pamper you, to make you feel comfortable and content. let you buy anything you want—all things on your shopping list are checked out by the end of the week.

and y’know, he’s an old man who’s not as strong as he used to be. so you pay for all this hard work by burying your face in logan’s neck as you ride him on the sofa. his head tilts slightly to catch your red-kissed lips with his - logan breathes something about how good you’re making him feel, “such a good little wife f’r your old man.”

he loves to tease you—telling you that you’re making him feel younger than ever when he’s with you, “gettin’ tired already, baby? need me t’do it for ya’?” his murmurs get to you as his large palms cup your ass, getting a handful of the plush skin before guiding you up and down his girth.

logan knows how tired you can be, especially when you start whining desperately like this, so he gives one or two light smacks for encouragement, “there ya’ go, kiddo. fuck. don’t stop now. doin’ so well, baby. so good.”

how you always ask for kisses from him ignites that taboo, perverted part of him he did not even know existed. anything that reminds him of how needy you are for him — feels so fucking wrong. but again, it gets his dick so fucking hard, too. he cannot help but to give in.

“bet no one has ever fucked this pretty pussy like i have, huh? need a real man to do it.”

he’s so fucking smug of himself since he had you. knowing those boys your age wishes that you choose them instead. but he’ll know that would never happen because when he says something like “look acha, drooling over an old man like me. gonna let me fill ya’ up, hm?” your walls manage to grip his girth tighter - squeezing him in so deliciously logan wonders what kind of a heroism act he did to deserve you.

makes you do a little ‘fashion show’ for him in the living room, parading yourself wearing all kinds of clothes that he bought. logan spreads his muscular thighs wide as he reads the newspaper—and the sight of him wearing his glasses that rest at the tip of his nose is holy to you, waiting to be worshipped.

you’d come out with a white lingerie that barely covers anything, “do you like it, lo?” whilst you giggle and twirl in front of him, you almost miss how he adjusted his seating position to palm himself through his trousers. telling you, “c’mere here, baby. lemme take good look at’cha, gimme some sugar.”

by ‘taking a look’ he means hiking up the sheer cloth to inspect your glistening mound, “hm. such a perfect pussy you got here, sweet’art.” probing his thick finger on the wet slick, humming at the dirty squelching sound. the look that he has makes your legs tremble - his untrimmed greying beard - his vague-looking face scars.

oh, coming home to you is the best part of his day. always. he’d see you heating the soup you made earlier and loses his fucking mind. turning off the stove in quick movements before hauling you up in his arms.

skin meets skin slapping fills the room and praises come out of his mouth so naturally, “f-fuck. gon’ stuff ya’ up, darlin'." you’re vulnerable and bare, you can’t even think when he’s got you like this.

logan would intertwine his fingers with yours. placing them side by side to see the wedding rings. a legitimate reminder that you’re his and he’s yours—forever.

“good little wife. my good little wife.”

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #old man logan #old man!logan #old man logan x reader #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine #headcanon #logan by nina <3

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 10 months ago

Text

Infernal Shadows

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.

A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 2655

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two

Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.

Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.

The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.

Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.

“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.

“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.

“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.

“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.

“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.

“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.

“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.

“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.

“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.

“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.

“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.

Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.

“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.

“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”

“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.

As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.

The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.

The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.

“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.

“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.

“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.

“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.

On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.

On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.

In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.

Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.

“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.

“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.

“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.

“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.

“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.

“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.

“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.

“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.

“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.

“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.

“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.

“Well~ this should be fun.”

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