#i’ve been talking about this au for months but it took me until now to get my shit together and finish it

[sunrizef1]

Speak for Yourself

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Authors Note: not edited woohoo, back to your regularly scheduled programming, planning to shut up now lol

Word count: 4.6k I think

Warnings: light cursing, AUS 24, not edited, inaccurate information regarding f2 seasons for the sake of the plot

Summary: You’d been around as long as Logan had, it was no time until one of the drivers developed a crush on you. Oscar had thought it was obvious you weren’t single. Guess not.

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Growing up, Oscar had always known he was quieter than a lot of his friends. He’d just rather keep to himself than be loud in his day-to-day life. Even Logan was considered loud when around the Aussie, and considering Logan was pretty quiet himself, that was impressive.

Everyone around him knew he preferred to be private. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share things with his friends and family, it was just that having his own life was more convenient.

One of the things he’d always been private about, was his relationships. He’d had girlfriends growing up, none of them really sticking around too long as the times changed.

But then he met you. 2018. Logan had introduced you as his best friend, Oscar decided not to be offended. You were the opposite of the Australian. You were loud and happy and Oscar was absolutely captivated by you. He’d asked Logan if he was allowed to ask you out and the American had just laughed with a nod, Oscar practically running over to you the second the race was over.

Of course, you were 17 so Oscar didn’t exactly have the emotional maturity to realize he was in love with you at the time. It only took him six months to say it out loud, though. Three years later and you two were still going strong, Oscars career only moving upwards as he raced through the 2021 F2 season.

Logan had been trying to find a way to get you a job with him the whole season. You’d just agreed, choosing to follow him around for a whole year as he moved through different series. He’d never have told Oscar but he’d needed your support more than anything. Just having to cycle through seats and races and series had drained him, you needing to practically talk him off the ledge multiple times throughout the year.

But you did get a few races with Oscar. Toward the end of the year, Logan got to race alongside his friend, meaning you got to hang out with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, who was looking likely to win the entire championship.

“Are you nervous?” You hummed under your breath, your words echoing around the silence of the dark hotel room. You feel Oscar shift behind you, his arm tightening around your torso. The next morning, he’d be racing to win the championship, hopes and dreams laid out before him.

“I don’t think so,” he pauses, contemplating his words, “I think I was. Not anymore though, I’ve got you with me. That’s enough for me.”

You take a second to think through his words before a grin splits your face, skin heating up as the sentence sinks in, “I love you, Osc.”

The man in question shifts again, swinging his other arm around to wrap you tighter in his hold, “I love you too.”

You eventually fall asleep, letting the quiet of the room paired with the sound of the beating heart behind you, lull you to bed.

The next day, Oscar wins the championship, your loud yells sounding uncharacteristically quiet in the cacophony of screaming voices that surround you. He doesn’t sprint over to you or anything, big gestures not really his style. But he does make eye contact with you with a warming smile once he steps out of the car and that’s enough for you to know exactly how he feels in that moment.

Logan, though, is being very weird. You were sat in your boyfriend’s room, watching Logan practically wear a hole in the carpet with his constant pacing. He walked back and forth through the room with an absent mind and shaky hands. Throughout the year you’d been forced to follow him around, you somehow hadn’t seen him this nervous the whole time. Impressive considering he’d met about 100 very important people in the span of about two weeks.

“What’s your problem?” Logan’s eyes snap toward you, eyebrows shooting up as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“Nothing,” you roll your eyes at his quickly worded response, he didn’t seem to be in a too concerning state of being so you opted to leave him alone. He’d be fine eventually. He’d also looked about the same last week when the Dolphins had almost lost. He’d recovered from that too.

Your head instead turns toward where the door has just opened. You watch your boyfriend walk through, his gaze immediately catching on the weirdo pacing in the corner.

“Hi, Logan?” Oscar hums with a confused look on his face. Logans gaze locks onto the older Aussie, a stupid grin splitting the Americans face.

“Congrats, Oscar. Have a great evening,” Logan says, slapping his friend on the shoulder. The dumb grin is back on the blond man’s face, proving your earlier hypothesis that he’d heal from his paranoia relatively quickly.

Oscar, on the other hand, is surprisingly quick to take over Logan’s role as village weirdo, moving to rush Logan out of the room. Logan leaves, not before he gives Oscar a suspicious glance but Oscar just replies by shoving him out. You dismiss it as annoyance at the man for intruding, though your eyes do stay trained on the door Logan had just left though for more than a few moments.

“He’s so weird,” you mumble, a confused look on your face as you think back to your friends actions.

“Yeah, he is,” Oscar replies, rolling his eyes. There’s a second layer of agreement laced through his words, though you don’t catch the fact he might have a different reason to agree. You hum, still trying to decode why your friend had been acting like that, not even figuring the cause might be the man in front of you.

Oscar pulls your attention back toward him as he rests a hand on your face, gently tilting your head toward him, “I have dinner reservations for tonight. That place you’d talked about this morning.”

You smile, completely forgetting about Logan’s loser behavior, “Sounds great.”

Oscar grins before letting go of your face, the feeling of his grasp still lingering on your skin, “I’m gonna take a shower, then we can go back to the hotel.”

You laugh, pushing him away from you gently. Oscar stumbles dramatically, causing your laugh to get louder. You don’t notice how Oscar’s smile gets bigger in sync with your happiness.

“Go, then. You stink.”

Oscar pulls a face, offense painting his features, “Rude.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as he moves toward the bathroom, “Go, nerd!”

Oscar laughs a final time before finally stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him. You collapse onto the couch you’re sitting on, mind running with thoughts of the dinner you were about to go to and recent memories of the pure elation you were feeling after Oscar’s win. Content fills your body as you relax, faint sounds of the shower the only sound filtering through your ears.

A few hours later, you’re sat across from your boyfriend, laughing over your food while sharing anecdotes back-and-forth, laughs probably a little too loud for the really nice restaurant.

Oscar grabs the bill from the waiter, smiling politely as the man walks away momentarily. Oscar pulls his card out and slides it back in his wallet before putting it in his back pocket, moving to stand up afterward. You grin as he holds a hand out to you, helping you to your feet.

You hum warmly, tiredness spreading through you as you approached the conclusion of a pretty long day. The food had been delicious and the atmosphere was wonderful.

You had thought you’d be going straight back to the hotel, considering Oscar still had to race again tomorrow.

But as you exit, Oscar pulls you away from the car, interlocking his fingers with yours. You shoot your eyebrows up as you glance at your boyfriend, a tight smile on his lips.

“I thought we could go for a walk on the beach, maybe? It’s really pretty,” Oscar stares straight ahead as he says the words, gaze seemingly avoiding yours. But when you don’t answer for a second, he does glance over to you and you finally nod with a small smile.

“Sure, I’d love that.”

Oscar gulps, a big grin splitting his face. He looks back toward the sand a bit ahead of you, moving to slowly stroll down it with you by his side. You let out a relaxed sigh, head falling into his shoulder. Oscar had been right, this was very pretty. Lights lit up the sand around you, reflecting off the ocean waves that crashed toward you. The sun is starting to set in the distance, casting warm hues over the sky.

You do stop to pull of your heels and Oscar is quick to hold them in his hands, resuming in his passive, slow walk.

You make bare comments about how pretty your surroundings were, the sound of silence just not satisfying you. Although you do leave enough time between sentences to truly take in the calmness that comes with the ocean scenery, wave sounds in the silence and all.

You eventually come to a point some ways down the beach that has more lights than the rest. They form a little semi-circle that perfectly light up the area. Oscar pulls you to a stop in the middle of them and he turns you both to look out at the ocean. You swear you hear a sound from behind you but when you glance over, the beach is clear of anyone else so you turn back around to gaze toward the sunset.

The sun is about halfway down in the horizon and you find your gaze locked on the pink and orange that fades through the sky. You’re so focused that you don’t notice that Oscars grasp on you disappears. When you turn around to point out the colors to your boyfriend, a sharp gasp leaves your throat.

“Oh my god, Osc-!”

You cut yourself off with a hand over your mouth as you look down at your boyfriend, kneeling in the sand, a small box clutched in his hands.

You don't remember much of his speech, too busy trying to not start absolutely sobbing. But you do remember the last words that leave his mouth before the ring is slid onto your finger.

“Will you marry me?”

You nod quickly, hands shaking as Oscar stands up to put the ring onto you. You stare down at it for a few seconds as Oscars hands rest on your waist, waiting for your reaction. You look up, moving through the shock in your veins. You grasp his face in your hands and pull him down into an emotionally-charged kiss, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter.

He smiles into the kiss, head resting against yours once you finally pull away. You look into his eyes for a second before laughing and leaning away, tears dripping down your face.

“That was so wonderful, Osc,” you say through your tears, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Oscar smiles before it drops slightly, a grimace pulling onto his face, “because Logan’s been in that bush the whole time.”

Your head whips toward the bush Oscars hand is outstretched toward, eyebrows furrowed as you search the greenery.

An incredulous laugh leaves your throat as Logan pops his head up, a sheepish glance in your direction being all he offers in response. You snort, grinning as you notice the nice-looking camera in his hands.

“Come here, idiot,” you smile, waiting for your friend to emerge from the bushes so you can share this moment with the man who’d been your closest friend for your entire life, “‘At least, now I know why you were acting like that.”

That was, of course, 2021. Now, two years later, you were still following Logan around. But now, with the Floridian entering F1, you had a contract and a paycheck that came with it. Anyone who didn’t know Logan would think you were his assistant. Which you technically were. But anyone who did know Logan, would instead refer to you as his paid-best-friend, many jokes about him paying you to hang around being thrown his way from fans and fellow drivers alike.

It was very convenient that your husband was entering F1 at the same time as the man who employs you, opening up so many more chances to spend time with Oscar.

No one really questioned Oscar’s continued presence in the Williams garage. Everyone knew that him and Logan had always been close so when he was spotted in the white and blue, no one batted an eye.

Not even his new teammate, who claimed to know the Aussie better than anyone else on the grid. Lando just assumed Oscar was really eager to see his friend every day. Lando didn’t consider that he saw Logan every weekend anyway and that maybe the speed with which he got to Williams might be a little too fast to just be for a close friend.

No one from Williams questioned it either. They all knew that Logan and Oscar had grown up as friends. So when Oscar seemed pretty close to one of Logan's closest friends, they didn't question it. It only made sense.

You didn’t hang around the rest of the grid very often during Oscar and Logan’s first season. You didn’t really know any of the other drivers so you, instead, spent all your time in Williams, Alex and Lily becoming fast friends of yours.

But in 2024, you started to come around more, choosing to venture out of the garage and talk more to the drivers you’d met over the past year. One of the garages you had started to frequent more was McLaren, your husband quite excited to have you in the Papaya as opposed to your usual blue.

You went to the garage purely for Oscar. But he wasn’t always the only driver hanging around. The papaya garages were often frequented by drivers from other teams. Specifically, the Ferrari drivers loved to make their presence in the garages known.

It was the Australian GP, Oscar’s home race and only the third race of the season. You’d only came over to McLaren a few times over the past three races, but you were currently occupied with Logan after his car had been taken away so you were nowhere to be seen.

Oscar was sat with his teammate in hospitality, talking about pretty much anything as they waited out the few hours they had before they had to do anything.

“Lando!” The voice of a loud Spanish man has Oscar’s face splitting into a grimace. He turns his head to see none other than Carlos Sainz making his way toward the pair in papaya, Charles Leclerc in tow behind him.

Lando grins beside him, eyes lighting up as he looks toward his friend. Lando glances down toward his teammate to assess the look on the Aussies face before he stands up and clasps Carlos on the shoulder, “Hey, Carlos!”

Oscar looks away from the two of them, gaze landing on Charles who stands awkwardly to the side. Oscar catches his eye before gesturing for him to sit down in one of the free chairs around the table the McLaren boys had been occupying . Charles smiles gratefully, happy to break the strange stance he’d been stuck in previously.

After successfully bro-ing it out, Lando and Carlos eventually sit down at the table, chairs sliding against the grown loudly as they shift around.

“How are you both feeling about the race?” Carlos asks, eyes shifting between Lando and Oscar, though his gaze does stop on the Brit.

Oscar, though, pipes up to answer the Spaniards question before Lando can, “We feel pretty good. It’s a home race so that’s always great.”

Carlos hums absently, eyes seemingly searching for something behind Oscar. Oscar glances behind him quickly to see if there’s anything worth mentioning but is met with nothing but Papaya shirts. He turns back around. Weird.

Lando seems to notice Carlos’ weird behavior as well, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances around as well before looking back to the Spaniard, “You looking for something, Carlos?”

Carlos’ eyes snap back to the curly-haired man, heat rising to his cheeks as he realizes he’s been caught, “No, nothing.”

Charles snorts from beside his teammate, sticking a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the laugh threatening to leave his throat. Carlos glares at the Monegasque lightly, only making Charles laugh harder before Carlos leans forward to explain.

“Where is that Williams girl?” Carlos asks with a small smile and a confused look passes over Oscar’s face. Who the hell is he talking about?

Charles seems to catch the matching confusion on the McLarens face, rolling his eyes at Carlos’ blunt delivery before starting to explain himself, “Carlos in love with that girl Logan hangs around with. The one that’s always in McLaren for some reason.”

Carlos nods in agreement, leaning back in his chair with satisfaction. Oscar feels his stomach drop.

“I’m not in love with her, I just think she’s really pretty.”

Charles laughs, eyes going wide in response, “Carlos you look for her every time we’re in this garage. You’ve been asking to come over here just so you can see her.”

Lando gasps dramatically, a big grin painting his face, “And here I was, thinking you’d been coming around so you could see me!”

The other three drivers at the table laugh but Oscar stays quiet, teeth digging hard into his bottom lip. An unreasonable annoyance filled him at Carlos’ words, eyes rolling as he watches the Spaniard go on about his love for you, Oscar’s wife.

“Why’ve you never gone to Williams to look for her?” Lando interjects after a few more seconds of mindless rambling from Carlos about you. Carlos glances sideways at Charles, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

“Never wanted to bother Logan, I guess. We’re not really friends,” Carlos shrugs.

Lando tilts his head, shaking it slightly, “I’m sure Logan wouldn’t mind.”

Oscar has to stop himself from scoffing at Landos words. If only he knew how much Logan would mind.

“Yeah, I’ll go over there in a minute. Maybe I’ll actually shoot my shot this time.”

Oscar stands up suddenly, chair screeching against the floor as it pushes backward.

“Where you going, mate?” Lando goes to ask but Oscar’s already practically ran away, feet carrying him quickly toward the Williams garage.

The three drivers he’s left behind look between each other with confused faces, all having no idea what made the Aussie leave so quickly.

Oscar, though, makes it to Williams in record time. Running between employees and the like, weaving his way to Logan’s room. He slams the door open, ignoring the strange glances from Williams employees around him.

He pauses as he sees the sight in front of him, Logans head resting heavily in your lap as you run a hand through the blonds hair. The dejected look on Logans face is enough to make Oscar grimace and move quieter as he enters the room. You glance up with the concerned expression still painting your features. Logan doesn't look up, eyes closed tightly and pure distaste clearly present.

“Hey Osc,” you practically sigh, eyes shifting back down to Logan for a moment. Only after hearing your words does Logan open his eyes, looking over toward the Aussie.

“Hey guys,” Oscar says carefully, his previous reason for rushing into Williams now momentarily forgotten.

Logan mumbles under his breath and closes his eyes again, nodding at Oscar before he does. You pat his head softly and he rolls over, moving his head away from you so you can stand up and talk to Oscar.

“Whats up?” you try to smile through your obvious grimace and Oscar smiles painfully in response.

He nods his head toward Logan who's now lying face-down on the couch, “Is he okay?”

“No, not a great weekend with the whole chassis thing,” You reply, trying to keep your voice low enough so Logan doesn't hear.

Apparently you weren't quiet enough as you hear a muffled shout echo through the small room.

“Im fine!” You can barely hear through the couch cushion but he’s just audible enough.

You shake your head at Oscar, sighing deeply, “Did you need something?”

Oscar nods slightly, grasping your hand in his and pulling you out of the room and away from Logan. Not that Oscar didn’t want to support his friend but he honestly didn’t know what to say. And he was obviously okay with you leaving or he wouldn’t have rolled away from you.

“Do you wanna come back to McLaren hospitality?” Oscar asks, dragging his finger over the wedding ring sat proudly on your ring finger. You notice his attention on the ring and tilt your head slightly.

“For any specific reason?”

Oscar shakes his head innocently, trying to take any look of suspicion off his face. Though it seems you know him too well as you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head, not believing his story.

Oscar rolls his eyes, admitting defeat, “Fine. Carlos was talking about how in love with you he is and I was getting annoyed about it.”

You laugh slightly, not expecting Oscar to claim that the Spaniard was in love with you. But when you see the blush on your husband’s face, you grin softly and pull him into a hug, grasping his face in your hands, “It’s okay, Osc. I only have eyes for you, darling.”

Oscar blushes harder, letting out a small laugh as you pepper his face with kisses and he reaches up a hand to bat your face away from his.

“Come on, let’s go show Carlos what he can’t have,” You laugh, marching forward with Oscar’s hand wrapped tightly in yours. Oscar laughs, following along behind you. But he’s secretly grateful you were willing to shut Carlos’ pining down, not sure if he could take Carlos, of all people, talking about his crush on you for any longer, “Even if he’s not there I’ll still get Logan something to eat.”

You reach the McLaren hospitality quickly enough, garnering some strange looks from people around you as they see your clasped hands. But you pay them no mind, more focused on getting to the food. Oscar drags along behind you, watching as you grab two plates of food, careful not to spill as you balance the plate for both yourself and Logan. Oscar untangles your fingers from his so he can grab one of the plates out of your hand, leading you toward a table so you can eat the food you’ve grabbed for yourself.

Oscar sits across from you as you start to pick at the food lazily, stabbing a lone grape with your fork before bringing it to your mouth. You seemed to have stopped caring about the potential Carlos sighting but Oscar was on high-alert, eyes trailing over the room.

His eyes catch on a scrap of red fabric over your shoulder and he moves his chair slightly closer to you, praying the Spaniard doesn’t catch sight of you. Oscar moves his knee to knock against yours and you smile warmly through the bite of watermelon you’d just taken.

You sit peacefully for a few minutes, eating quietly as Oscar seemingly keeps watch. You don’t ask him why he couldn’t just tell Carlos you were married himself but you don’t question his motives. Men were confusing.

Both of you are surprised when a figure walks up to stand above you. You glance up and see a grumpy-looking blonde man with tousled hair and a disgruntled face looking down at the two of you, exhaustion clear in his eyes.

“Hey, lo. Gotchu food,” You say, sliding the plate toward the American. He hums, glancing around the room. Oscar watches as he sees Carlos and then looks back, glancing between the Aussie and the enemy he had decide to make today.

“Brb,” Logan mumbles with crossed arms, slinking off to a destination you can’t see. But Oscar can, and he watches as his friend slides up to a certain Ferrari driver, his usual shy attitude abandoned due to his already-shit race weekend.

Oscar takes the opportunity to fully move his chair next to yours, grasping your open hand in his, passively fiddling with your wedding ring. You roll your eyes but relax your hand in his, allowing him the chance to be as possessive as he wants.

“Hey, man,” Carlos says as Logan reaches him. Really good timing actually, he’d been wanting to talk to him about you.

Logan blinks through his tiredness, frowning at the older man, “Hey, Carlos.”

Carlos grins, deciding to stick through the poor attitude from the blonde man in front of him, having no idea just how poor this was about to go for him, “I was actually going to ask you about that friend of yours. The pretty American one you’re always with.”

Logan blinks again, glancing back toward the papaya polo sat next to you before he looks back, “Y/N?”

Carlos shrugs, smile unfaltering, “I guess so, any way you could get me her number?”

Logan chews his cheek a bit, eyes quickly switching between the ground and Carlos’ face, “Nah, man. She's taken.”

Only then does Carlos’ face falter, his eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion, “Really?”

Logan holds back his laugh, rubbing at his eyes as he starts to lose the tiredness he'd previously had, “Yeah, yeah. Married actually.”

Carlos’ head snaps toward the Williams driver, mouth opening slightly as he shakes his head, “No way, mate. You’re joking.”

“I don’t think I am,” Logan smirks, head tilting toward where you’re sitting, “You could ask her but I don’t think he’d let you get within 10 feet after this morning.”

Logan watches as Carlos’ gaze lands on you and your husband, mouth gaping as he catches Oscar’s hands fiddling with the ring on your finger, “Shit…”

“Yeah, shit indeed,” Logan nods, starting to walk away and leave the Spaniard to revel in his shock, “Have a good race, Carlos. I won’t be seeing you out there.”

You finally look up to see Logan sit down across from you, sliding his own plate over to himself and starting to munch down on the food you’d picked for him.

Oscar raises an eyebrow as he catches the incredulous look on Carlos’ face, “What was that about?”

“Just told him you’re married,” Logan mumbles through a mouth full of strawberries, chewing passively, “Had to spell it out for him, been dropping hints for months.”

You glance toward you friend with confusion painting your face, “What do you mean?”

“Yeah, I’ve been scaring him off from Williams since last October. Don’t think he even realized I was doing it on purpose.”

You and Oscar catch eyes, small grins breaking out on your faces as Logan continues to stare intently at his snack.

“Thanks, Logan,” you smile, happy to hear about your friends committed defense of your marriage.

“Don’t thank me, I’m still in a bad mood,” he says as he stabs a grape violently, biting the green sphere with a crunch.

Oscar hums, pulling you into him and resting his head on top of yours, eyes falling closed momentarily, “Sure, Logan. Eat your food, you’ll feel better.”

Logan just replies with a stab of his fork and you laugh, relaxing against your husband behind you, grateful for the great friend you’ve got in front of you.

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Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for dating Johnny Lawrence

Johnny Lawrence x reader

warnings: towards the end theres degenerate!johnny mentions (the WORST most funny way to put it but him being an alcoholic and such) (that is NOT funny dont be an alcoholic)

a/n: i been looking at young william zabka edits for an hour brain go brrr. also yes i already have hcs for this so these are NOT part 2 they are a different au after the all valley 🙏. this has been the MOST INSPIRING fic i have written in months im literally in love with him

prompt:

after the all-valley and cobra kai, johnny felt like he’d lost everything

then he found you

you had just barely known each other, growing up in the same vicinity but never really saying a word to each other

until one day at encino oaks, johnny spotted you sunbathing on an unusually warm day and took a chance

“y/n, right?” -johnny, sitting on the pool chair next to you

“that’s right” -you, tilting your sunglasses down

“i’m johnny. we, uh, we go to west valley together”

“yeah, i’ve heard of you” -you

his stomach sank (he’s got a bad track record)

“yeah, that’s unfortunate.” -johnny, getting up to leave and pausing “would you be interested in jumping in the pool with me?”

you stared at him for a few seconds (cuz you could tell he wasn’t too confident) and got up, actually jumping in the pool in a full cannonball

his spirits were lifted and he jumped in right after you

“that was awesome!” -johnny

you two swam around splashing and annoying the older club members, but it was no matter

you ended up sitting on the pool ledge talking and getting to know each other

“oh, no, i don’t really keep up with local karate tournaments. i hadn’t heard” -you

“that’s perfect for me, then” -johnny

you gave him your number and said you’d see him at school monday

and that you did

“is that him? he’s cute! maybe he’ll start driving you to school. or you could get your license” -your mom, dropping you off

“mom!” -you “he does seem pretty sweet. i think he found me at the perfect time, too. got knocked down a peg or two from some karate tournament”

he brought you a little box of chocolates to give to you before class THAT VERY MONDAY (he was moving fast)

he was also very desperate for a prom date for senior prom but that was beside the point

you played a little hard to get

but johnny finally found a reason to fight again and he wanted to fight for you

“could i take you on a date this weekend? do you prefer something fancy like a nice restaurant or casual like golf n stuff or romantic like the beach?” -johnny

“why dont you just plan it and i’ll be ready. just tell me what i should wear” -you, kissing him on the cheek

he always felt so cool and confident but you had him flustered and about to buckle at the knees

he decided to keep it casual for now because you seemed so “go with the flow” and there were so many things to do, so many distractions to keep him from doing something stupid

and of course he picked you up because you still didn’t have your license yes

“come on, i’ll teach you how to drive” -johnny

“noooo thank you, i am not driving your car” -you

you drove it one block and he understood why you didn’t have your license

johnny paid for all your tokens and you guys had a blast competing in games and ended up with a pretty decent pile of tickets

“ooh, competitive!” -you

“i have no idea what you’re talking about” -johnny

daniel was actually at golf n stuff that night with ali but johnny didn’t even care he was so infatuated with you

he bought you some nachos for a snack, which he snuck a few bites in shamelessly

you still haven’t kissed at this point but he was waiting for the perfect moment

you made sure to touch his arms and keep close and flirt, sending all the right signals

he seemed like such a go-getter, you were getting impatient

and finally, he took you to the ferris wheel and made it all cliche and special wrapping his arm around your shoulders and waiting until you two were at the top of the wheel to place a hand on your cheek and kiss you gently

(gentle went away fast you had been waiting for this for a whole WEEK and thats a lifetime for a teenager)

he was giddy for the rest of the night and all he’d gotten was a quick makeout session

he ended up pooling all your tickets together for a stuffed animal of your choice

it couldn’t have been a better first date honestly

and soon enough he was driving you to school, walking you to class, bringing you little gifts, getting you into trouble, listening to music with you, sneaking out with you, just doing everything with and for you

and the promposal was very cute classic (a sign and some flowers, he wasn’t all too creative)

and when prom came around, you two stood out! you both looked stunning and styling, everyoneeee was jealous

“johnny looks happy” -daniel

“poor y/n’s just gonna get their heart broken” -ali

prom court?? no actually lol but keep dreaming

“you’re the prom [king/queen] in my heart” -johnny

“if you hand me a plastic crown im gonna hit you” -you

johnny took it out anyway and you both started cackling bc it was so silly

he just wanted you to feel special (you had no part in prom court at all actually there was no disappointment he was just being a punk)

“sooo, prom night..?” -johnny

“what about it” -you

“oh, nothing…”

“just drive, punk. my parents aren’t home”

a miracle he didn’t get a speeding ticket

soon enough you two had graduated and gone off to college together

although johnny had a hard time focusing on what really mattered

you two definitely partied together and he was always so protective and caring, making sure no one made a pass at you or made you uncomfortable (and if they did he’d try to fight them and you’d drag him away)

some of those nights were memorable, but he started slipping and you kept trying to keep him on the right path

he had a few wakeup calls

and proposed to you

and you accepted

and for a while, he did things right for you

but in the end, he just couldn’t grow up and you broke it off

all the fighting and drinking and partying and bailing him out of jail finally became too much and you returned the ring

“i wish it were different johnny. i really do. i thought you were the one. but i cant be with you if you’re not gonna grow up. i love you, and im sorry, but im done” -you

he was a WRECK after that he spiraled completely and cried for you for months

and he tried to get you back. he tried to straighten up and fly right but he always fell back into the same problems, and his friends were just as dumb as he was

you’d get a drunken call now and then of johnny rambling how sorry he was and how he still loves you and he wanted to change and begging you to take him back

you went on one last date with him and saw a very grim future

and realized you didn’t want to stick around to fix him

“do you still have the stuffed animal from our first date?” -johnny

“i do” -you

“promise me you’ll keep it forever” -johnny

“i promise”

his parents were so incredibly disappointed in him and that he “lost a good one”

and he never stopped beating himself up over it.

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @sapphireplums // @ravenhood2792 // @elemental-of-magic // @mauve-galaxy-427 //

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW BLOG | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

COMING SOON: FRIDAY, OCTOBER 11th

summary: when you come into his shop to get your boyfriend's car fixed, yunho can help but wonder what a hardworking, pretty girl like you is doing with someone so...pathetic. and maybe, just maybe, he feels like he could treat you better.

pairing: cowboy mechanic!yunho x female!reader

genre: smut (not in teaser) | non-idol au | strangers to lovers

rating: 18+ (no smut in teaser)

word count: 1.1k in teaser (full fic will be ~8k)

content/warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll), strangers to lovers

notes: this is in the same universe of assert your dominance! and you might even find the mc in that fic here 🤭 i'm really excited about this one! so i hope you like it 💗

and if you want to join the taglist you can do so here or you can let me know in my inbox!

Where the fuck was this place? You took another turn down another shaded alley. It was weirdly dark for being two in the afternoon. 

The tapping of your fingers on the steering wheel was the only music because the stereo had gone out months ago and no one was able to get it fixed. Until now apparently. 

Because after six wrong turns you finally pulled into the parking lot. Your friend had recommended it when you’d told her this car had been having all sorts of issues, and she told you this was the place to go. And then she pulled up the instagram of one of the mechanics and went on for several minutes about how hot he was. That may have been the only reason she requested this place.

It looked official enough. The brick building was large enough to house the two large garage doors that left the shop open. Peering inside you could see a mechanic checking the taillights of an old Chevy, before venturing back to his toolbox. There weren’t many people inside. From what you could see, there were only two mechanics in the garage, and you didn’t see any customers or other employees. Maybe they’re understaffed. 

You shrugged before swinging the car door open and grabbing your purse out of the passenger’s seat, brushing off your pants before you made your way in. There wasn’t a front desk or a receptionist to talk to, and you got the feeling that this shop was solely run and staffed by the men inside. 

No one noticed you for several seconds. Both men seemed entirely too caught up in their current tasks. You shuffled your feet a couple of times and tried to catch the eye of one of them, but no one seemed to notice your presence. They must not get very busy. 

“Um…hello?” You spoke, trying not to startle either of them. 

They both turned to you, and the man closest to you opened his mouth to speak. But he was cut off when the other man behind him jogged over, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and muttering a quick, “I’ve got her, Min.” 

“Min” chuckled and rolled his eyes, returning to his work.

Oh god. You felt a pit form in your gut at the prospect of him flirting with you. 

“Hey doll, what can I do for ya?” Something about the way he sauntered up to you and smiled so gently immediately filled your stomach with butterflies, but ignored them for the sake of your own sanity.

Doll. That was a new one, and you felt deep in your soul that it would have disgusted you from anyone else. But something about this stranger was strangely comforting. Maybe it was the way he tilted his head as he waited for you to speak. Maybe it was the baseball cap strewn backwards on his head. Or maybe it was the strands of his taupe hair that fell in front of his face. Strands you imagined yourself brushing up into his hat.

Your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your purse, “I’m, uh, having some car issues.”

The laugh he let out, and the curve of his lips that accompanied it, made the tips of your ears burn, “Of course you are, sweetheart. Anything in particular, though?”

“Oh,” you chuckled softly along with him, “Well, he mentioned that the acceleration has been kinda weird, and I thought the engine was kinda loud when I drove it here today. Sorry, I don’t really know a ton about cars.”

He hummed and tapped his foot a couple of times, “Which one is it?” 

You pointed across the lot. 

“Alright, let me pull it into the garage,” he put his hand out in your direction. 

You stared at it, confused, and when you looked back up at his face he was smiling at you again. Stupid smile. He made your heart flutter more than you would’ve liked to admit.

“Keys, sweetheart. Your keys.”

“Oh,” you scrambled around in your purse before handing him the keys, embarrassed. 

Took them from you and pulled the car through the big garage doors. When he stepped out of the car he looked at you curiously, “This your car?”

You shook your head, “No it’s my boyfriend’s. He’s been…busy…lately, so he hasn’t been able to bring it in. He keeps complaining about it, though, so I just decided to do it for him, I guess.”

He raised his eyebrow at you and nodded slowly. 

“What?” you asked, moderately offended.

Shaking his head, he waved a dismissive hand, “Nothing. Sorry. You just seemed a little unsure is all.”

“Yeah…I don’t know. I honestly think he just kept complaining so that I would get tired of his whining and just get it fixed,” You chuckled awkwardly. Why the fuck were you telling him this? You started to feel a little embarrassed.

And that feeling only got worse when you saw the mildly horrified look on his face. 

You shook your head and ran a frustrated hand through your hair, “Can you just fix it?”

That pretty fucking smile came back. “Of course I can. Glad you brought this in when you did, honestly. Seems like your boy toy’s got a bit of an exhaust leak. Could be pretty dangerous, so it's good to get it off the road.”

“Ah, perfect.” You shifted on your feet, “How long will it take, do you think?”

He lifted his hat and ruffled his messy hair before readjusting it on his head. Why did every little movement he made drive you crazy? “Unfortunately, issues like this take a couple days. I can probably finish her up tomorrow, but I don’t think I can finish it up today.”

You nodded, “Okay. I’ll try to get a ride home.”

“Alright, doll. Let me write down your number real quick so I…so we can call ya when she’s ready.”

You wrote down your name and number for him on a pink sticky note that he stuck to the dash. 

“Perfect!” He smiled at you, “We’ll call ya tomorrow, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile back, “Awesome! Thank you…Oh. I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Yunho. My name is Yunho, sweetheart. It’s nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand for you to shake it.

And you couldn’t help the ramming of your heart in your chest when he took your hand into his own.

[diminuel]

I said I'd try to write a little companion piece/ continuation to my Luffy time traveling into the past to meet a young Crocodile comic!

As a warning: I know nothing about ships and since this is just a little no pressure project to try to get out of writer's block I didn’t do a lot of research. There is also a plot discrepancy because Luffy mentions Bonney and her abilities which he shouldn’t know based on the frame story I’ve given this fic *lol* Also: I don't know how to write these characters yet.

No beta, sorry for mistakes.

This is a Crocodad AU fic of course! ♥

--

Maybe This Time Part 1 (3.5k)

“Better get down from there, Luffy!” Nami called from the upper deck. “I don’t quite trust these clouds.” Luffy turned to look over his shoulder, feet dangling over the railing. Nami stood with a hand over her brow, looking up at the sky. Luffy turned back to look out at the sea and tilted his head up. The sky had a pretty green hue, nearly blending seamlessly into a dark mist rising above them. A huge dark cloud had formed ahead, casting a shadow over the sea in the distance.

“Just-“

He titled forward, lost his grip on the railing. A swooping feeling of falling tickled his stomach but before he could make a surprised sound he hit the surface of the water. It felt like he was crashing through glass.

And then it was dark.

This wasn’t the first time Luffy woke up after having been tossed into the water, but for some reason he was bone dry. And oddly thirsty.

“Thirsty,” he wheezed, sticking out his tongue to escape the uncomfortable dryness of his mouth.

A small barrel with a straw was held out to him with a curt “here.” Luffy’s attention zeroed in on the offering and he grabbed it without second-thought. A couple of deep gulps of the water later he felt a lot better already. He heaved a sigh in relief. He took the straw into his mouth again, starting a thank you as he turned towards his savior.

Startled, he sucked in water and spit it out again before he could choke on it, right into the face of someone who looked shockingly familiar.

“BABA?!” Luffy yelled. The person in front of stared at him blanky, the water dripping off his face.

Luffy stared right back. Could it be? This wasn’t Baba as he knew him, but much younger. Sure, they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months, but he couldn’t change that much, right? But who else could it be? The same hair, the same eyes, the same scar, the same unimpressed expression.

A thousand questions rampaged through Luffy’s minds. How was Baba here? Last they had talked he had been still on Buggy’s homebase. Had he saved him? Where was his crew? What kind of island was this? But one question seemed most important.

“Why are you so young?!” Luffy asked, staring at Baba who couldn’t be much older than Luffy was now.

“Huh?”

“Was it Bonney?” The confusion on Baba’s face only grew.

“Who?” he asked. Luffy stared back at him taking in the complete lack of recognition on Baba’s face.

What?

“Don’t you recognize me, Baba?!” Luffy shouted in horror. The corners of Baba’s mouth twitched and his brows drew down. At least that was a marginally more familiar expression on his face.

“My name isn’t Baba,” he insisted. “And no. Should I?” That hit Luffy like Grandpa’s fist of love.

“Yes!!” Luffy argued, feeling overwhelmed and his crew wasn’t even here to help figure this out. Robin or Jinbei would know what to do! Luffy looked at the sea. It was overcast, the sun faint, the air cool. It was most likely early morning. There wasn’t a single ship visible in the bay or beyond. No other people on this beach. He could feel tears form in his eyes.

“What is going on?” he yelled.

--

There were rules for unexpected situations that had been drilled into his head at an early age. Get yourself out of any immediate danger. Figure out where your people are and regroup. Figure out where you are. Eat. Everything else can wait until after you’ve eaten.

Maybe the importance placed on food was just the Monkey family’s way of dealing with problems, but Luffy wasn’t about to complain. The perfectly grilled meat and the little stick that was loaded with huge mushrooms helped to dampen the anxious pit in his stomach. But the moment he looked up and caught a glimpse of the person sitting across from him, tearing the meat straight off the bone in an unsettling lack of finesse, he felt like he was being dunked into sea water again.

Just what was going on here? Luffy had been travelling with his crew, enjoying that exhilarating part of adventuring where you were simply sailing, facing the challenges the sea of the New World threw at you, not yet knowing where the path would take you. And then the next thing he knew he was plunged into water, sank, blacked out.

Nothing after made any sense. Because the person that had saved him…

“You’re staring.” Luffy startled at the unsettlingly unfamiliar voice. He watched the person opposite him pick his teeth. “Do I really look like that Baba person?” Maybe a smart man would keep his mouth shut and Luffy had been raised to have at least a pinch of common sense between his ears but…

Just what was he supposed to do when a young version of his father was sitting opposite him?!

“You do,” he settled on saying, wary. Baba didn’t look particularly upset by his lack of an explanation, not even a hint of annoyance pinching his brow. And that was unusual too.

What was this? A hallucination? Someone’s devil fruit power? Actual time travel?

(And why not into the future so Luffy could at least see cool robots shooting lasers?)

“What did you say your name was?” Baba asked, genuinely curious, then he pointed at the food in Luffy’s hands. “More where that came from,” he promised. “Eat.” And wasn’t that just another strange thing? Why was he so nice to him if he didn’t even know who Luffy was? Luffy stuffed the food in his mouth, chewing morosely.

“Monkey D. Luffy. I’m going to be the pirate king,” he announced, though far more subdued than he usually was when introducing himself. Baba’s eyebrow lifted.

“There’s no such thing as a king of pirates,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Isn’t that the whole point? The freedom?” Luffy swallowed his food, tilting his head in confusion. Baba put his elbow on his knee, and propped his chin in his palm. He grinned at Luffy, the expression open and joyful, almost mischievous. “That’s why I set sail. I want to do things for myself, see what I can achieve on the Grandline!” His grin softened to an expression a lot more familiar to Luffy though he couldn’t exactly place it. “A big adventure before…,” he trailed off and sat up straight, still grinning but not sharing his thoughts.

It was strange to hear Baba talk of freedom and piracy like that. While Baba had given Ace, Sabo and him a lot of practical information on what to expect out of piracy, he almost never talked about how it used to be for him when he just starting out. Luffy didn’t know when he became a pirate, what motivated him or why he gave up that freedom for a warlord position.

He just knew that nowadays everything, even freedom, was shackled by conditions upon conditions. A thousand locks for Baba and Dad to pick before it could be achieved. Luffy had never quite understood it. Freedom was so easy to achieve if you just pushed your boat off the shore.

Maybe this Baba still trusted that freedom was always within reach.

“How old are you?” Luffy blurted out, putting aside the unease about the situation to admit a little bit of curiosity. Even if it was a hallucination or the work of a very capable impostor, he wanted to know more about him. He wanted to know everything about him.

“19,” Baba answered. “And you?”

“Uh, me too,” Luffy said, then lifted his fingers. “46 minus 19.”

“27,” Baba answered right away, chewing on a mushroom. It seems Baba hadn’t yet discovered the “don’t talk with your mouth full” rule.

“27 years?” Luffy repeated in dawning horror, touching his palms to his cheeks. “I’m 27 years in the past?!” He whined and let himself drop onto his back. He stared up at the overcast sky, partially visible through the sparse trees here so close to the shore. How was that possible?! Did they sail into some sort of mystical area of the Grandline and were now all scattered across time? Was that even possible?

Baba’s face appeared in his field of vision, blocking out the sky.

“What are you talking about?” he wanted to know, his hands in his hips as he bent down to study Luffy. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re from the future.”

“But I am!” Luffy insisted and jumped to his feet. Luckily Baba straightened quickly enough to not be hit by Luffy’s head. He grimaced, momentarily distracted by the fact that even now his father was nearly a head taller than him. He shrugged it off. “I know that there is no known devil fruit that will grant the user the ability to go back in time. But there has got to be an explanation for this!”

“Other than you being insane?” Baba offered but judged by his tone and the grin stretching his lips he was teasing, not mocking. Luffy groaned, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You do realize that what you’re saying is improbable.”

“But it’s still true!” Baba didn’t react to his outburst. “I’ve seen a lot of so-called improbable things before! Islands with dinosaurs! Islands that fly in the sky! Islands where people turned into living toys!” Baba lifted his eyebrows at that. Luffy waved him off. “It was just Mingo, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying about it,” Baba answered, amusement evident. “But it seems like you’ve already travelled a bit. I thought you were new to the Grandline. You look like a rookie.”

“I’m not!” Luffy protested then pointed his thumb at his chest. “I’ve been on the Grandline for 2 years! I’ve got an amazing ship and the best crew in the world!” At the mention of his crew his spirits sunk like an anchor. He hoped they were okay…!

“Where were you when you got separated from your crew? You can’t have been washed ashore from that far away,” Baba asked. Luffy hummed, trying to remember. He scratched his head.

“We’d been on sea for about three weeks after Wano,” he said. “But we hadn’t come into stable climate yet, so I don’t think we were close to an island.”

“Wano,” Baba repeated. “You were in the New World?” He seemed surprised now. Was he doubting him again?

“You’re in the New World too,” Luffy shot back.

“No! We’re on Agaricus,” Baba insisted. Luffy squinted at him. Where had he heard that name before? He was sure he had heard Baba mention it. “The next big island you might have heard of is Alabasta.” Luffy hit his balled fist into his palm in recognition.

“The autumn island where you like to go mushroom hunting!” he said then the words registered. “What?! We’re in the first half of the Grandline?!” Baba looked about as shocked as Luffy felt.

“How do you know that?” he asked and it took a moment for Luffy to realize that he looked wary all of a sudden, his stance a lot less relaxed. Luffy knew that he should be able to defend himself against a 19-year-old version of his father, but he still didn’t want to test that hypothesis if Baba actually started to believe that Luffy was a threat.

“I told you! I’m from the future! I know you!” Luffy defended himself. Baba frowned at him, but his stance shifted just a bit. A soft sound at Luffy’s feet made him look down just to see tendrils of sand slip back down on the floor. He hadn’t even realized that Baba must have manipulated the sand to grab him if needed. When Luffy looked up Baba’s expression was serious, a crease between his eyebrows.

“27 years into the future,” Baba affirmed. “When you and your crew sailed the New World. As apparently I do too.” He rubbed his arms, his face uncertain for the first time. “I’m still alive in 27 years?”

“Obviously!” Luffy insisted, angry at the suggestion that Baba would not make it on the Grandline. “You’re strong!” A small grin appeared on Baba’s face.

“Yeah? So how do we know each other? Am I your captain or something?” Luffy wrinkled his nose but at the same time Baba did too. “Do I insist on everybody calling me Baba like fucking Whitebeard wants everyone to call him Pops?” Baba made a disgusted expression at that. Luffy of course knew that Baba and Whitebeard had history, but as most things of his father’s past, this was something he kept close to his chest. Sometimes his secrecy was quite annoying and it was hard to pretend not to care about what had happened, especially since the old man had meant so much to Ace.

“How can you already have a grudge against Whitebeard at 19?”

“Oh, so you don’t know everything, Monkey D. Luffy,” Baba said, his grim look dropping quickly at the supposed upper hand he fancied himself to have. Luffy wasn’t used to these quick mood changes. Still, instead of answering he grimaced. “What?”

“I don’t like when you call me by my full name. You only do that when you’re scolding me. Call me Luffy or Strawhat.”

“Strawhat?” Baba asked, laughing. Luffy pulled his hat from his back and put it onto his head demonstratively. “And you let me scold you? What am I? Your mom?” Luffy pressed his lips together, the question feeling like someone had upended a bucket of cold water onto his head. But Baba laughed in amusement as if the thought was absurd. “Am I your captain?”

For the first time a different kind of worry made a home in Luffy’s mind. He had arguably no experience in time traveling but he wondered if it was a good idea to let his father know too much. Could Luffy change the past just by being here? Could he change his own present if he messed up here?

Luffy knew that he was a “happy accident.” What if he told Baba who he was and Baba decided to be a bit more careful so that no happy accidents happened accidentally? That’d be horrible! Would Luffy just disappear?! Maybe this was the true danger of this situation!

“You’re not my captain! I’m the captain of my ship!” Luffy insisted, pride in his position winning out over the moment of panic.

“Then what’s our connection?” Crocodile asked and took a step closer to Luffy, a glint in his eyes that Luffy didn’t quite like. He didn’t have a sharp hook to hold under his nose but he had a sharp and menacing grin. “Spit it out, Strawhat.”

“I… I don’t know anything!” Luffy said through pursed lips, looking away. But other than grab him and shake him or worse (as Luffy had seen Baba do to people who annoyed him or lied to him) Baba just blinked at him. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

“I know someone who’s just as horrible as you are at lying!” he said. Luffy wrinkled his nose. Not everyone could lie professionally. “But why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because I am from the future!” Luffy insisted. “What if I say something that changes something big?! I don’t want that! I like my life! Maybe if someone sent me into this past, this is their objective?! What if they’re trying to kill me by letting me make a mistake here in the past that leads to me not being born?!”

“That seems far too much effort,” Baba said, looking Luffy up and down. “You don’t look particularly strong, Strawhat,” he said his tone annoyingly patronizing. “A stray bullet could kill you.”

“What?! I am strong! And my bounty is higher than yours!” he protested. Luffy would never have said that to his Baba’s face but this young version of him was different. “And I’m not going to tell you what it is!” Baba rolled his eyes.

“At least tell me I didn’t choose something as stupid as Baba as my name,” he said, then he moved his hand and a wave of sand spread over the fire they had roasted their food on, dousing it at once.

“I’ve always done my best to fly under the marine’s radar and it’s hard to break the habit. I haven’t really gotten my name out there yet,” Baba continued. He pointed at Luffy. “But I will! The world will soon hear of the exploits of Crocodile!” Luffy stared at him, taking in his wide, confident grin.

Baba looked impossibly young.

“Yes,” Luffy agreed, not sure why there was a lump in his throat. Baba smiled at him, then he reached out to pat Luffy’s shoulder. “Let’s go.” Baba turned around and started packing up the rest of the cooked meat and mushrooms. He tossed Luffy a bag, then shouldered his own. When he walked away from the camp, Luffy trailed after him.

“Where are we going?” he asked. They stepped out of the outskirts of the forest and back onto the beach. There was a small ship docking on a pier that Luffy hadn’t noticed back when he had first woken up. It wasn’t much bigger than the one Luffy had initially set out on. Far too small for a crew of more than two. Not a vessel that looked suited for the Grandline.

“You’re looking for your crew, right? And a way to get back home, wherever and whenever that might be,” Baba said and then thrust his thumb behind him, towards the ship. “So what do you say, Strawhat Luffy? Want to join me?” Luffy looked at him in surprise. Baba wasn’t exactly the kind of person to make such generous offers to strangers, at least he wasn’t today.

“Fine. But I’m captain!” Luffy said and extended his arm to grab onto the ship’s mast. He pulled himself onto the ship, Baba staring after him. Luffy sat himself down at the helm of the ship. Baba cursed to himself, then undid the rope and gave his ship a powerful shove with his foot. He turned into sand and landed on the ship next to Luffy.

“No way! This is my ship!” Luffy looked up the mast, noticing the lack of a pirate flag.

“Baba-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Crocodile, you don’t even have a pirate flag!” he said disapprovingly and for the first time Baba actually seemed embarrassed. “Does your ship have name at least?”

“Yeah, it’s the Mind Your Own Business Strawhat!” Crocodile went down into the cabin and then came back with an eternal pose. Luffy couldn’t read the name written on it. Crocodile walked to the steering wheel and then looked up at the sail. Luffy watched as sand spread from Crocodile’s body until the sails were lifted and caught the wind.

“Where are we going?” Luffy asked, inspecting the stemhead but it didn’t seem particularly comfortable to sit on. Crocodile’s ship didn’t even have a figurehead! Maybe he had a banana in his galley so Luffy could put it on the stemhead. The "Mind your Own Business Strawhat" needed least some decoration. Momentarily caught up in his musings, it took him a moment to turn back around to look up at Crocodile behind the wheel. It was strange seeing him there. He had only sailed with Crocodile on the same ship once, leaving Impel Down. He didn’t know why it seemed so strange to see him man a ship himself. He knew that his father was a pirate and yet it seemed odd to realize what that actually meant. That he hadn’t always been a warlord who tended to stay in one place or travel on marine vessels, that he hadn’t always had 2000 people under his command, that he hadn’t always been an emperor’s commander. But he looked comfortable behind the wheel, like he had never done anything else.

“Do you want to go all the way to Wano?” Luffy eventually asked and jumped up to where Crocodile was. “What about your own adventure? Don’t you want to follow the log poses and do your route around the Grandline?”

“I don’t mind making a detour,” he easily said as if it wasn’t difficult at all for him to give up his plans. “And absolutely not, I’m not going to sail into the blue like that just based on your last location in allegedly 27 years from now” Crocodile said with a scoff. “We need information.” He smiled down at the log pose. “And I might have an idea where we could get it.”

To be continued? If you find it too hard to read on here I can post it on AO3.

[melancholy-of-nadia]

heart on the window #2 (m) | ksj

title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: Your life takes a wild turn after discovering what you believe is Seokjin's risqué secret, only for the following nights to leave you doubting your own reality. Was it loneliness and a shattered heart that conjured this delusion? As you try to move on, leaving your assumptions behind, you and Seokjin grow closer—until a late-night slip-up unravels everything... literally. note: it took me almost a month to update i have been busy at work.; i've edited this but there still may be some grammatical errors so apologies in advanced. warnings: roommate!Seokjin being such a green flag, adult content live streaming (camwork), explicit solo masturbation (from jin and also reader POV), voyeurism, descriptive use of toys, dirty talk, reader's emotional turmoil, Seokjin being perceptive and teasing, confrontation, sexual frustration, sexual tension. mild language, some implied sexual fantasizing, jin POV in the last quarter of the chapter drop date: December 20th, 2024, 12:00pm pst word count: 9.6k chapter 1 | chapter 3 crossposted on ao3 here

–

That good sleep that you were anticipating?

Gone.

Were you able to get some sleep last night?

Absolutely not.

Every time you’d close your eyes, all you would see is THAT: Seokjin Kim, sitting in his chair, stroking his cock with slow, deliberate motions, his face caught somewhere between bliss and control while a virtual audience eagerly watched.

Oh god, what the fuck did you get yourself into? 

You can’t just continue living here like you didn’t see that.

Absolutely no way–

“Did you get a good sleep last night?”

The sound of Seokjin’s voice slices through the chaotic mind-fuck cluster of your thoughts, dragging you back to the present. You blink, startled, your mind scrambling for something—anything—to say.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was…nice,” you reply, though your tone is as flat as week-old opened grapefruit Spin Drift you’ve left out on the counter countless times in the past.

Seokjin chuckles, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, giving you a knowing look. “That doesn’t sound very convincing,” he remarks before turning back toward the kitchen. You watch him as he grabs a carton of eggs, a frying pan, and other utensils with easy confidence, as though nothing is out of the ordinary.

Meanwhile, your head is spinning.

Does he have any idea what you saw? No, of course not. How could he? You clutch your mug of coffee tighter, willing yourself to keep calm and act normal, even though “normal” feels like a foreign concept right now.

Seokjin cracks an egg against the side of the pan with one hand, a skill that feels unnecessarily showy, and tosses the shell in the trash without missing a beat. “So, what’s your plan for today?”

“My plan?” 

“Yeah, you know. Moving in, settling down. Unpacking those boxes.” He gestures with the spatula toward the pile of boxes you had left in the living room yesterday. “Or are you just going to live out of them for the next few months?”

You force out a weak laugh, trying to mask your unease. “I’ll get to them soon. Or well, eventually.”

Seokjin glances at you over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, you sure you’re okay? You seem… distracted.”

Distracted? That’s putting it lightly. You practically choked on your own thoughts all night, trying to process what you’d stumbled upon. Now here he is, looking every bit as composed and charming as ever, completely unaware of how he’s upended your mental state.

“Just a lot on my mind from the shit I’ve been going through,” you say vaguely, hoping he’ll just think about what you’ve previously told him and won’t press further.

“Fair enough,” he replies, flipping the eggs in the pan with a practiced flick of his wrist. “By the way, if you need anything for your room, feel free to let me know. I’ve got some spare furniture in storage if you need extra shelves or whatever.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, staring at your coffee as if it holds the answers to your predicament.

You spend the rest of breakfast in tense silence, with Seokjin humming softly to himself as he cooks. Every so often, you catch yourself stealing a glance at him—his broad shoulders, the black t-shirt that loosely fits his body, his easy movements, the way his hair falls messily over his forehead. And every time, your mind cruelly throws you back to that image from last night.

You barely touch your toast, and when Seokjin finally sets his plate in the sink and announces he’s heading out to work in the office since he has some meetings later this afternoon, you feel a wave of relief so strong it’s almost embarrassing.

As the front door clicks shut behind him, you slump against the counter, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

What are you going to do? How are you supposed to face him every day without your mind going there?

If there’s anything that helps clear your mind, it’s organizing. The chaos of your thoughts seems to calm when you’re sorting, categorizing, and arranging. And thank god you have a lot of that to do right now with all the boxes cluttering your room and spilling into the living room.

Determined to regain some sense of control, you dive into it. First, the essentials—clothing, toiletries, and the work necessities you hope to use again someday. You find a rhythm: open, sort, fold, stack, repeat. The act becomes a form of meditation, letting you focus on the task rather than… other things.

After about two hours, just as you’re folding a stack of sweaters, your phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call. Your dear best friend Yunjin’s photo flashes across the screen.

You swipe to answer, her bright, cheerful face filling the screen instantly.

“Hey girl!!” she chirps, holding her phone up at an angle that shows a bustling street lined with shops and people.

“Hey, Yunjin!” you say, unable to hide your grin. “Haven’t seen your beautiful face in awhile. What are you up to?”

“I’m out shopping in Japantown,” she says, spinning her phone around to give you a quick view of colorful storefronts and an adorable bakery. “And I saw this cute Moomin plush keychain. It reminded me of you, so I’m gonna gift it you!”

A Gift?! 

Your eyes widen. “N-No! It’s fine!”

Yunjin’s smile doesn’t falter. “Oh, stop it. I want to. Plus, it’ll give me an excuse to go visit you.” Yunjin lives a couple of hours away from you, so you don’t get to see her as often as you used to during college.

Despite her kindness, you feel a pang of guilt. Being unemployed has left you hyperaware of money, and the idea of your friend spending her hard-earned cash on you—without expecting anything in return—feels unbearable. But that’s just how she is. That’s just…Yunny.

“Really, you don’t have to,” you say, even as a part of you knows arguing with her is pointless.

“Too late!” she sing-songs, flipping the camera around to show the tiny Moomin plush with its sweet little face and scarf. “Tell me this isn’t so you.”

It is. It absolutely is.

You sigh, shaking your head but unable to keep from smiling. “Okay, fine. But at least let me treat you to a coffee.”

“Deal,” Yunjin says with a wink before turning the camera back to her. “So, how’s it going with your new place? Settling in okay?”

Your mind flashes to Seokjin, to the events of last night, and you swallow hard. “Uh, yeah. It’s… nice. Just getting things sorted.”

Yunjin squints at the screen, her expression turning suspicious. “You sound weird. What’s going on?”

Should you tell her? Absolutely not. She’d think the whole situation was bizarre—and worse, she’d probably call you weird for sticking around to watch him do that. You quickly decide to change the topic.

“Yunny, is there really no way I can stay with you for a bit of time?” you groan, leaning against the pile of clothes you’d been folding.

Yunjin’s brow furrows. “Oh, why? You don’t like your new place?”

“It’s… fine,” you hedge, glancing toward your door as if Jin might somehow overhear. “I just… I don’t know. It’d be nice to have you around again like old times.”

The truth is, you don’t want to leave this city. It’s the only place where the kind of opportunities you’re looking for exist. And besides, you love it here—the energy, the atmosphere, the food scene. Nothing else in or out of state even comes close.

But if moving meant getting away from the strange situation you’ve landed yourself in, maybe you’d consider it.

“Uh, well, sadly, no,” Yunjin says with a slight pout. “I thought one of my housemates was moving out to live with her boyfriend, but it looks like that was all talk. She’s staying put for now. They probably wouldn’t be okay with temporary couch surfing either.”

That makes sense.

“Oh,” you reply, deflated. “Okay.”

“Hmm.” Yunjin narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but thankfully, she doesn’t press further. “Well, I can’t wait to see your new place. We’ll do a housewarming soon, okay?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you say, nodding along, though the thought of hosting a gathering here makes your stomach twist. How exactly would you explain Seokjin’s... side hustle to anyone if they happened to find out?

“Alright, I’ve gotta go,” Yunjin says, the bustling noise behind her growing louder. “I’m supposed to get lunch with Hanni and Stephen. Love you!”

“Love you too,” you reply, waving at the screen before the call ends.

You set your phone down, a mix of warmth and guilt settling over you. It’s comforting to know Yunjin has your back, but it also serves as a painful reminder of how far you’ve fallen. No job, no stability, and now living with a guy who… well.

You shake your head, refusing to let yourself spiral. There’s too much to do, too many boxes to unpack. For now, you focus on the small wins—folding clothes, sorting books, reclaiming a sense of order.

One step at a time.

You throw yourself into unpacking and organizing, letting the steady rhythm of your tasks distract you from your swirling thoughts. The hours slip by as you arrange books on shelves, hang up clothes, and shuffle boxes around to make the room feel less like a storage unit and more like a home.

By the time the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, you’ve made solid progress. Your room is starting to look presentable—cozy, even. The hum of activity keeps your mind occupied, though every now and then, stray thoughts about last night sneak in.

The sound of the front door unlocking jolts you out of your reverie. A moment later, Seokjin walks in, dressed in business attire, his tie slightly loosened and his hair tousled in that effortlessly charming way that makes it clear why his stream fans are obsessed with him.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile as he sets his bag on the counter. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” you reply, wiping your dust-covered hands on your jeans. “Got most of my stuff sorted out.”

He glances toward your room and nods approvingly. “Nice. Looks like you’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I figured I’d get it all done before it starts to feel like a chore.”

Seokjin chuckles as he loosens his tie completely and drapes it over a chair. “Smart move. I should probably take a page out of your book. My closet’s a disaster zone right now.”

“Really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as the messy type.”

He shrugs, pulling open the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “It’s organized chaos. I know where everything is… mostly.”

You laugh softly, some of the tension you’d been holding onto easing as the conversation flows naturally. For the first time since last night, you don’t feel quite so on edge around him.

“Anyway,” he says, taking a sip of water and leaning against the counter, “I’m gonna change out of this and make something for dinner. You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit, realizing you hadn’t eaten much while caught up in organizing.

“Cool. Give me like ten minutes,” he says with a grin, already heading toward his room.

As he disappears down the hallway, you let out another breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It’s going to take some time to feel normal here, but for now, small moments like this help.

Back to one step at a time.

Yes… one step at a time.

Jin reappears in casual clothes—sweatpants and a loose tee that somehow still manages to look good on him—and heads straight to the kitchen. You sit on the couch, doomscrolling on social media to consume random content to keep you busy in the meantime.

The comforting sound of clattering pots and pans fills the apartment, accompanied by the savory aroma of something delicious in the making.

When he calls out, “Hope you like pasta carbonara,” you can’t help but feel grateful he’s even making you food. 

He doesn’t have to do this, but it’s nice that he is.

He sets the steaming pan on top of a hot pad on the table, followed by two plates, forks, and a sprinkle of grated cheese in a small dish. “Voilà. Gourmet dining at its finest.”

This actually looks like high quality italian restaurant quality presentation.

You take a seat, eyeing the dish appreciatively. “Woah? Fancy. Do you cook like this all the time?”

He grins as he spoons a generous serving onto your plate. “Not always. I have a rotation: this, ramen, steak, kimchi jjigae, and… takeout. Lots of takeout.”

You laugh, grabbing your fork. “Sounds somewhat balanced.”

“I try to keep it balanced but,” he agrees, twirling pasta onto his fork. “I also work out a bit too.”

“Nice,” 

In your mind, you’re thinking “yeah, you’ve seen him workout alright”

This is really going to eat at you at this rate.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence for a while, the rich, creamy flavors of the pasta doing wonders for your mood. It feels surreal to be sitting here, sharing a meal with someone who, just days ago, you were convinced would be a terrible roommate.

The meal is delicious, better than you’d expected. For a while, you let yourself get lost in the comforting simplicity of eating—pasta twirling on your fork, the sauce aroma wafting up, the occasional clink of silverware against plates.

It feels… normal. Nice, even. But still, at the back of your mind, there’s a quiet storm brewing.

The night before keeps replaying in your head, uninvited and intrusive, like a broken record you can’t turn off. You glance at Seokjin as he eats, his features relaxed, his posture casual. How can he seem so normal when you know what he was doing less than 24 hours ago?

The mental tug-of-war begins: Should you just ignore it? Pretend it never happened? Or—

“So,” you blurt, interrupting your own thoughts, “what exactly do you do for work?”

Jin looks up, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. “I work in marketing,” he says, reaching for his water.

You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Marketing for…?”

He grins, sensing your peaked interest. “Riot Games. You know, the League of Legends company?”

Your eyes widen. “No way! What! That’s so cool.”

That’s actually a pretty awesome career.

And so Seokjin of him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fun. A lot of campaigns and community engagement stuff. It keeps me busy, but I like it. Games have always been my thing.”

That part doesn’t surprise you. Growing up, Jin was always glued to his Game Boy, computer or chattering about his latest high scores. This career seems like a natural fit for him.

“Of course, I remember that well,” you say, smiling. “Also explains the gaming setup.”

“The gaming setup?” Jin freezes for a fraction of a second, his fork hovering mid-air. His expression shifts from casual to guarded so quickly you almost miss it.

Shit.

You scramble to backtrack. “Uh, I just mean… you seem like the type to have a cool gaming setup, you know? Dual monitors, fancy keyboard, maybe some LED lights?”

His shoulders relax slightly, though his eyes remain sharp, watching you closely. “Haven’t shown you my room yet. How’d you know?”

“I didn’t,” you reply quickly, forcing a laugh. “It’s just a guess. I mean, come on, you work at Riot Games. Wouldn’t you have the gear to match?”

Jin tilts his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips before he leans back in his chair. “Actually,” he says, his tone shifting slightly, “I’ve been a bit shy to mention this, but… I’m also a Twitch streamer.”

You already knew this from prior snooping, so you gotta act surprised.

Your fork pauses mid-air. “Woah? You are?”

He nods, a little sheepish now, which is a rare look for him. “Yeah. My old roommate actually got me into it awhile back. It started as a way to unwind after work, but then it kinda… took off. Nothing crazy, but it’s been fun.”

You don’t think that 200,000 followers is something to not be impressed about. That is a decently big audience for someone who hasn’t been doing it for too long.

That sparks your curiosity. “Really? What do you stream?”

“Well, gaming mainly as you saw,” he says, shrugging. “Some League, Valorant… a bit of variety stuff when I feel like it. My audience isn’t huge, but it’s a solid little community to talk with.”

Audience, right.

Your mind flashes back to last night—the setup, the webcam, the comments streaming on the screen—and your stomach tightens. He wanted to hide this from you but still has more to uncover, but he’s so good at hiding it. Well, at least until you caught him yesterday.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you ask, “Isn’t it hard to balance with your job?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Not really. Most of my streams are at night, after work. I mean, I’m already up, so I might as well do something productive, right?”

Productive, you think, the word ricocheting in your head. If only he knew…

“That’s… really cool,” you manage, keeping your tone even. “Do you think you’ll ever go full-time with it?”

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Nah. I like streaming, but I don’t think I’d give up my day job for it. It’s more of a side hustle, you know? Keeps me busy and entertained.”

“Right,” you say, nodding. “That makes sense.”

“I’ll have to show it to you some time. Maybe even let you try the setup if you’re into games.”

Oh?

“Sure,” you say, nodding too eagerly. “That sounds fun. Though I’ve always been a Nintendo girl,”

“I do recall, and that’s fine by me. We could play Mario Kart!”

“That sounds like a lot of fun, Jin—”

The word slips out naturally, before you even realize it. You freeze mid-sentence, your lips parting as the familiar nickname hangs awkwardly in the air. You haven’t called him “Jin” since elementary school. It used to roll off your tongue back when you were kids, when he was just a goofy classmate you exchanged Pokémon cards with and competed against in dodgeball. But ever since reconnecting as adults, you’ve made a conscious effort to just refer to him by his full name, Seokjin. It felt more appropriate. More… grown-up.

And it created a boundary, which now feels undone by you calling him more casually. Curse you getting more comfortable with this man! His eyes widen slightly at the sound of it, his smile faltering for only a split second before softening into something warmer. “Jin, huh?” he muses, raising an eyebrow. “Haven’t heard you call me that in years.”

You swallow, cheeks warming as you try to play it off casually. “Oh. Uh, sorry— I just—”

“You just what?” he teases gently, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

You groan, covering your face for a brief moment. “It just slipped out, okay? Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Hmm.” His voice hums with amusement, and when you peek at him through your fingers, he’s looking at you with a fond expression that makes your stomach flip. “I don’t mind it, you know. Kinda like it, actually.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah,” he says simply, shrugging. “It’s nostalgic.”

There’s a pause as the two of you exchange a quiet glance, something unspoken settling in the air between you. For a moment, you swear his gaze lingers on you just a little too long.

“Well,” you mutter, trying to brush off the sudden tension. “If you don’t mind it, I guess I’ll start calling you Jin again.”

His smile widens into something bright and genuine, then chuckles. “Good! Doesn’t feel too weird anyways since my Twitch chat calls me Jin as well.”

And you were flustered over this for nothing.

The conversation moves on, but every time you say “Jin”, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something you can’t quite place. You ignore it though, as his dirty secret continues to gnaw at your mind more than whatever he must be thinking.

Glancing at him as he finishes his pasta, a soft hum escaping him as he collects the plates.

You retreat to your room, bidding Jin a casual goodnight as he mentions his plans for the evening. “Gonna play some Elden Ring with my friends, and then stream a Pokémon randomized Nuzlocke at nine,” he says, grinning. “If you hear me yelling at any ungodly hour, just know it’s the RNG gods being cruel.”

“Good to know,” you reply with a small laugh before closing your door behind you.

Settling onto your bed, you decide to distract yourself with something immersive—Bakemonogatari. It’s been on your list for a long time, and felt like now would be a good time to watch it. The anime’s intricate dialogue and surreal visuals immediately pull you in, though it’s hard to focus completely with lingering thoughts of Jin playing games only a few walls away.

You shake your head, forcing yourself to focus on the screen. As the narrative deepens and the subtitles demand your full attention, your eyelids grow heavier. Soon, the soft glow of the laptop screen and the soothing cadence of the voice acting lull you into a deep sleep.

A good sleep.

The kind of sleep you’ve been craving after a long day of cleaning, unpacking, and organizing—a chance to reset and settle fully into this new chapter of your life.

Until a familiar sensation stirs you awake.

You blink blearily at the clock on your nightstand.

2:35 a.m.

Déjà vu hits you like a freight train. The thirst pulls you out of bed, an undeniable urge. With a groggy sigh, you shuffle out of your room and make your way to the kitchen.

The dim light from the hallway guides you as you grab a water bottle from under the sink. The cool plastic feels grounding in your hand as you twist the cap open and take a long, satisfying sip.

Refreshed, you glance around. It’s quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the soft whir of your thoughts.

And then your gaze instinctively drifts toward Jin’s room again.

Not for the wrong reasons! you tell yourself defensively. It’s just… you’re checking on him. Making sure he’s okay!

Right?

Your bare feet make the softest pats against the floor as you tiptoe a little closer to the hallway leading to Jin’s room. Sure enough, a familiar sliver of light leaks from the partially ajar door.

But something’s different this time.

You squint, leaning just enough to peek in.

There he is.

Seokjin sits cross-legged at his desk, headphones on, illuminated by the glow of his monitors. But instead of his usual casual attire or the polished look he had earlier, he’s wearing a pajama set. A blue pajama set covered in cartoon characters. The sight of him in something so unexpectedly cute throws you for a loop.

On the screen, the familiar pixelated world of Pokémon sprawls before him.

“Okay guys, I should end the live here,” he says cheerfully, his voice carrying through the quiet apartment. “But I’m almost at the Elite Four! This team I have right now is pretty solid, even if we lost Moon the Lunatone. I’ll get through the rival battle and stop there.”

Your jaw slackens.

Wait, what?

Where’s the camwork? The NSFW content? The explicit… everything you’d stumbled upon last night?

Confusion swirls in your chest as you scurry back to your room, shutting the door as quietly as possible. You lean against it, clutching the water bottle in both hands as your mind races.

What is going on here?

Had you… imagined it? No, that couldn’t be right. The vivid image of last night flashes through your mind unbidden, heat creeping up your neck as you recall every mortifying detail.

But now? He’s just streaming a Pokémon Nuzlocke like a completely normal, wholesome gamer.

Maybe you dreamed it…?

You sit on the edge of your bed, clutching the water bottle as if it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

Maybe you were just seeing things last night.

The thought plants itself firmly in your mind, and as much as you try to swat it away, it lingers. You were exhausted yesterday. Between moving, unpacking, and the emotional whirlwind of losing your job and your relationship, maybe your mind just… played tricks on you.

Yeah, that must be it.

There’s no way you actually saw Jin doing that.

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m losing it,” you mutter under your breath.

Still, the memory feels so vivid. The faint glow of his screen, his movements, the soft noises—ugh, stop it! You shake your head, desperate to push the images out of your mind.

But the scene you just witnessed tonight couldn’t be more different. Jin was just… Jin. Cute pajama set, gaming setup, and an audience of what you assume were adoring fans cheering him on as he streamed his Pokémon playthrough.

Totally innocent.

Totally normal.

You flop back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Your chest tightens as you try to rationalize it all. Maybe the stress and lack of sleep made your brain concoct some wild scenario. After all, you’re in a new place with a guy you haven’t seen since childhood. Maybe it’s just your subconscious working overtime as you’re lacking physical touch.

That has to be it, you convince yourself, pulling the blanket over your face.

And that’s exactly what you’ve convinced yourself to think.

Over two weeks have passed, and from the few times you’ve stumbled out of bed late at night, you haven’t encountered anything remotely similar to what you thought you saw on your first night here.

It became easier and easier to believe you hallucinated the whole thing.

Stress does crazy things to people, you told yourself. You just need to focus on your life.

Still, the faint embarrassment lingers every now and then, but it’s manageable. After all, you’ve been busy with moving-in activities, refining your resume, and applying to jobs. Productivity has been your savior, keeping your mind occupied and away from thoughts of intimacy—something that feels uncomfortable ever since your last relationship ended in betrayal.

Order seems to have been restored.

Conversations with Seokjin (who you now refer to as Jin) have become more natural, the initial awkwardness dissipating as you become more comfortable with one another and you’ve settled into a rhythm. You respect each other’s spaces, and despite the occasional childish banter, the dynamic is easy, like good old friends reconnecting.

You’ve gone shopping together for groceries, evening outings to eat at a sit-in restaurant or even just go for a drive or walk to destress, which usually ends in getting ice cream or bubble tea.

It’s oddly casual, but you don’t mind that. This is how things should be now that you’re both adults.

It’s a Thursday at noon when you hear the doorbell and find a large package waiting for Jin. 

[You: Hey, there's a big package addressed to you at the door? Where should I put it?]

After texting him to ask where to leave it, he eventually responds:

[Jin: Ah, thanks for letting me know. I was waiting on that to come in. Jin:Just put it in my room if you don’t mind!]

[You: Okay!]

And with that, you pick up the box and head toward his room.

It occurs to you as you step inside that this is your first time actually entering his space.

Jin’s room is, unsurprisingly, immaculate—spacious, well-organized, and undeniably him. The decor is a cute mix of his personality: shelves filled with gaming figures, an impressive collection of games, and stuffed animals of his favorite creatures scattered across the bed. There’s even a small shrine to Mario and Kirby in the corner that makes you grin.

You place the package on his bed as instructed and turn to leave, but something catches your eye.

His monitor.

The screen is still on, displaying a cluttered web browser with more tabs open than anyone should realistically have. You almost laugh at the chaos of it—thirty, maybe forty tabs?

But then your gaze lands on one in particular.

A small icon. A name.

Chaturbate.

Your heart skips a beat.

Oh. My. God.

It’s like the carefully constructed world of denial you’ve built over the past week shatters in an instant.

No way. No, no, no, this can’t be?!

Your feet feel glued to the floor as your mind races. This can’t be real. Why would Jin have that open? Wasn’t it just a mistake that night? A fluke? A hallucination?!

And yet, here it is. Right in front of you.

Your stomach flips as hell’s gates open again, memories from that night rushing back in vivid detail.

Curiosity claws at you, relentless and insistent. You know you shouldn’t, but the urge to know is overwhelming. If it really is what you think it is… then maybe, just maybe, you can confirm it and put this strange, lingering mystery to rest.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you step closer to the desk. The glow of the screen feels accusatory, like a spotlight shining on your guilt. This is so wrong, you think, but your hand still moves.

You nudge the mouse, waking the monitor from its idle dimness.

The browser window expands to full brightness, revealing the countless tabs more clearly now. You spot the one labeled Chaturbate. Your fingers hover over the mouse, trembling slightly, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you click.

The page loads immediately.

And there it is.

The profile is still open, though it’s not broadcasting live. A banner at the top reads: "Offline – Streams Scheduled 3x a month. Next stream: Tonight at 1:30AM."

The alias catches your eye immediately, bold and unmistakable at the top of the page: "BigTunaManXOXO"

Big Tuna Man?

You have to chuckle, though the sound feels unnatural in the stillness of the room. Well, he did mention he likes tuna when you two had sushi two days ago. You shake your head in disbelief at how absurd the situation is.

Scrolling a little more, your heart races as the tags and content descriptions appear on the screen. Tags like casual play, NSFW, punishment, and even interactive fill the list, confirming everything you feared—and hoped—was true.

What did you expect? you think, eyes scanning the content. His previous streams, unlocked for paid viewers, show glimpses of what you had seen—shirtless moments, fan interactions, and those subtle teases. Some comments from regular viewers flash on the screen: "You’re so cute, Big Tuna. Gonna get your next stream tonight?"

A pit forms in your stomach as you scroll further, seeing the balance of gaming content mixed with something... different. There are a few VODs, some marked with glowing red icons and some tagged with things like solo play, toys, edging and private sessions. Your breath catches in your throat as you click on one of the unlocked streams. It starts to load, and before you can stop yourself, you’re staring at a past broadcast.

Seokjin.

In a black Alo Yoga hoodie and 5” inseam black shorts. The camera angle is different now, the lighting softer, more intimate. His voice comes through clearly, playful, teasing. You watch as he interacts with the chat, joking around with his viewers, and then... he moves the camera just enough that you can see the lower half of his face for a moment—barely anything though, but enough to confirm it’s him to you, who has been seeing him every day since you moved in with him.

His usual smile is replaced by something softer, more relaxed, more... flirty.

And then, there it is.

The content, the movement—just like you saw that first night. The subtle, slow gestures that make everything come rushing back, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.

You harshly click the tab shut, returning to the previous tab it once was. Quickly, you leave Jin’s room, making sure not to disturb anything else. The echo of the laptop snapping shut still rings in your ears, and your hands are trembling slightly as you step back into the hallway.

You hope it doesn’t look like you lingered too long. The last thing you need is for him to know you were snooping around, even accidentally. You slip back into your own room, shutting the door behind you, and lean against it, exhaling shakily.

This is too much.

You now have undeniable proof. Solid, irrefutable evidence that the man you’re living with, sharing meals with, and chatting about Pokémon and pasta with... is a cam boy. A cam boy doing porn and who’s managed to keep this side hustle hidden under layers of casual charm and everyday normalcy.

It’s not the fact that he does that kind of work that bothers you, not at all. If anything, it’s more… personal than that… The memory of what you saw—his expressions, his movements—lingers in your mind like an unshakable phantom, making your body feel uncomfortably warm and restless. You sink onto your bed, burying your face in your hands as if that will somehow erase the imagery burned into your brain.

Get it together, you tell yourself.

But curiosity—it’s a relentless beast. The harder you try to shove it down, the more insistent it becomes. Questions start to pile up, each one more intrusive than the last.

Does anyone recognize him? Do his fans know?

You grab your phone, desperate for answers, and open Reddit. If there’s one place on the internet where secrets can’t stay buried, it’s here. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you type: Gamer Jin and BigTunaManXOXO Reddit.

The search yields only two results. Two. A drop in the ocean of online gossip and speculation, yet still enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You tap the first thread: “Jin and BigTunaManXOXO: Double Life?”

The original poster’s comment pulls you in instantly:

“Okay, is it just me, or doesn’t he sound like this cam boy BigTunaManXOXO? Literally has the same voice, same mannerisms... someone tell me I’m not crazy.”

The replies are a mix of disbelief, humor, and outright denial. Some users dismiss the theory as absurd, calling it disrespectful to Jin. Others joke about the sheer randomness of the comparison, adding memes and GIFs for good measure.

But a small minority entertains the possibility.

“I mean… I’ve seen his streams. The way he laughs does sound kinda similar…”

“I don’t think it’s him, but if it were, that would be WILD.”

One reply makes your stomach churn:

“Not saying it’s him, but I subscribed to BigTunaManXOXO just to fantasize about him being Jin. No regrets.”

You stare at the screen, your mind spinning. The majority of commenters don’t believe the theory, dismissing it as pure coincidence. But they have no idea how close they are to the truth.

And now, neither can you unsee it.

Seokjin arrived home that evening with a bright smile and the unmistakable aroma of takeout wafting through the apartment. The bags he carried crinkled as he shifted them in his arms, his voice ringing out cheerfully, “Guess what I got? Bao buns! And a few other things, but mostly the bao buns—because I remembered you mentioned them earlier this week.”

You hear a knock at your door a moment later, and you pause, nerves prickling under your skin. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before opening it. Seokjin stands there, still dressed in his work clothes but with his usual easygoing grin.

“Dinner’s here. Come eat,” he says, gesturing toward the living room with the bags.

You nod, smiling back, though it feels a little forced. “Thanks, Jin. That’s really thoughtful of you.”

His sharp eyes linger on you for a beat too long, and you know he’s caught the slight edge in your tone, the nervous way you’re holding the door. He doesn’t say anything, but his expression shifts—subtle, curious. He doesn’t push, though; that’s not his style.

Instead, he leans back casually and adds, “I figured we could eat and watch something. Maybe an old favorite of yours?” He raises a brow, the corners of his lips tugging upward knowingly. “Bleach? I noticed you have some merch on your bookshelf.”

Your heart skips a beat, both from the thoughtful gesture and the fact that Seokjin’s perceptiveness always seems to catch you off guard. Does he see right through me? Does he know what I found?

“Bleach sounds good,” you say quickly, hoping to steady yourself. “Let me just grab something, and I’ll meet you in the living room.”

“Cool,” he says, his voice calm but tinged with something else—maybe a touch of inquisition. He walks off toward the kitchen, leaving you alone for a moment.

You close the door softly, leaning your head against it. Why does he have to be so…—you search for the right word—attentive? It’s like he has a radar for when something’s wrong. And now, dinner and your childhood favorite anime feel like a test of your ability to act normal.

A few minutes later, you join him in the living room. The coffee table is already set with the takeout containers: bao buns, lo mein, orange chicken, and fried rice. Jin is on the couch, flipping through streaming options until he lands on Bleach. He looks up and pats the cushion next to him.

“Sit. I already started the episode where Ichigo reunites with Rukia and the other Gotei 13 soul reapers. Start of my favorite arcs.”

You sit, the warm scent of the food making your stomach growl despite the anxious knot twisting inside you. Seokjin slides a plate toward you, and the two of you settle into a rhythm—eating, watching, occasionally commenting on the nostalgia of the show.

But the tension lingers.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at you between bites, as if trying to figure out what’s on your mind. And you wonder just how long it will take before his curiosity outweighs his patience.

As you both finish up the episode of Bleach, Seokjin turns to you, his gaze warm yet inquisitive. “So, how was your day?”

You pause for a second, collecting your thoughts. 

What to say? What did you do today before your world got flipped upside down… Oh right… the job interview. “Busy,” you say with a small laugh. “I had a second interview earlier for a job.”

His eyebrows lift, impressed. “Oh? What’s the role?”

“It’s for a coordinator position at a small fashion house,” you explain. “It went… great, actually. But I don’t think I’ll get it though.”

Jin frowns, leaning slightly closer. “Why not? You just said it went great.”

You shrug, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling, I guess. Fashion’s cutthroat, you know? The people in that industry are quick to judge if you don’t fit the vibe they’re looking for. You can have all the skills, a good background, everything—but it’s still not enough sometimes. I don’t think I got what they want.”

He watches you for a moment, then sets down his plate and reaches across the table. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice steady. “You are good enough. I know it’s hard not to overthink, but you have to believe that you bring something special to the table.”

Your chest tightens at his words, the sincerity in his tone. His thumb brushes your knuckles gently, and that nervous feeling blooms again, tugging at the edges of your thoughts. There’s something so familiar about this—like nostalgia wrapped in uncertainty. It’s comforting, but it scares you all the same.

You blink, pulling your hand back as casually as you can without it seeming abrupt. “Thanks, Jin,” you say, your voice tight. “I… I should probably get ready for this international networking seminar I have. It’s later tonight so I’ll be up for awhile.”

He tilts his head slightly, concern flickering in his expression, but he doesn’t press. “Right. Well, good luck with it. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Right back ‘atcha,” you reply quickly, standing up. You gather the disposable utensils and plates in a hurry, tossing them into the trash before he can say anything else.

Seokjin stays seated on the couch, his gaze lingering on you as you retreat to your room. The moment you close the door behind you, you exhale sharply, pressing your back against it.

Why does he have to be like this? So supportive, so perceptive, so… kind?

This is not the Seokjin you imagined when you decided to move in here!

You shake your head, trying to refocus your thoughts. You have work to do. The seminar is important, and you need to be prepared. But even as you sit down at your desk and open your laptop, you can’t shake the image of Jin’s hand on yours or the soft encouragement in his voice.

It’s almost enough to make you forget what you saw earlier today. Almost.

Would it do you any good to force yourself to forget? Pretend that the tab you saw was just a fleeting mistake, an inconsequential moment in time?

Or would it be better to confront this unsettling curiosity head-on? Maybe, if you understood more about his “side hobby,” you could find a way to desensitize yourself. Make it less of a big deal. Normalize it in your head.

The thought gnaws at you until you’re lying in bed at 1:28 a.m., the glow of your laptop casting a dim light across your room. You’re wearing your old blue track shorts and a faded YMCA T-shirt, the kind of comfort wear you don’t expect anyone to see you in. You thought the seminar would last longer, but with some guest speaker changes, it ended right at 1am.

So now you’re doing this.

The chat on the pending livestream is already alive—rows of messages racing up the screen, eager fans buzzing in anticipation of “BigTunaMan’s” arrival.

You can’t believe you’re actually doing this.

You glance at the clock again. One minute to go.

Then, he appears.

The camera flicks on, revealing Seokjin—or BigTunaMan, as his audience knows him—seated in his chair, the warm glow of soft lighting the only facially visible part of him: his lower half of his face and the subtle curve of his smirk. He’s wearing a loose tank top, the kind that clings just enough to hint at the lines of his shoulders and chest, paired with pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips. His demeanor is relaxed, confident, and undeniably captivating.

“Hey there, my army of lovers,” he greets, his voice lower, smoother, each word deliberately stretched out as if he’s tasting them. The chat floods instantly with messages, adoration pouring in from every corner of his audience.

“BigTunaMan, looking gorgeous as always!”

“Omg, talk slower, I can’t handle it.”

“Take all my money, please.”

Jin leans forward, resting his chin in his hand, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he reads through the comments. “You’ve all been so patient tonight,” he purrs. “So how about I spoil you a little?”

He picks up a small bowl of strawberries from beside him, holding it up for the camera. The way his fingers brush over the fruit feels intentional, sensual, as though he’s fully aware of the effect he has on the people watching.

“Let’s start simple,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to the chat, teasing. “A little ASMR snack to set the mood. And of course, I’ll be saying your names—if you’ve earned it.”

The screen lights up with donations almost instantly, usernames accompanied by desperate messages and heart emojis.

He picks a strawberry from the bowl, holding it delicately between his fingers, and bites into it slowly. The sound is soft but amplified, deliberate, and his eyes never leave the camera. He chews thoughtfully, his tongue darting out briefly to catch a stray bit of juice.

“Thank you, PurpleHeart94,” he whispers, his voice silky and intimate. “You’re so generous tonight, baby.” He takes another bite, his gaze steady and smoldering. “And you, HentaiPrincess420—what a sweet name. Thank you for spoiling me when I should be doing that to you.”

Shit… He’s so smooth.

The chat goes wild, messages pouring in faster than you can keep track of them.

He takes his time, naming off more donors, each one met with a sultry thank-you, his tone dripping with playful affection. By the time the strawberries are gone, the tension in the air feels palpable, even through the screen.

Jin leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he speaks. “Now that we’re warmed up,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “how about we move on to something… a little more sexy?”

Your breath catches.

“The touching session,” he says simply, his hand trailing down his chest slowly, almost lazily. The camera angle shifts slightly, framing him in a way that feels more intimate, inviting, as if he’s closing the distance between himself and his audience.

You’re not sure whether you should close the laptop or keep watching, but your fingers remain frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

The chat explodes:

“YES, PLEASE!”

“Touch me instead!”

“PICK ME CHOOSE ME BigTunaMan!”

Jin chuckles, the sound low and resonant. “Patience,” he chides softly. “We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”

The camera zooms in slightly, drawing your focus to the deliberate, almost hypnotic movements of Jin’s hands as they trail over his skin. His voice, smooth and sultry, seeps into your ears like honey, wrapping around your thoughts and making it impossible to concentrate on anything else.

“Do you like this?” he murmurs, his tone so intimate it feels like he’s speaking directly to you. “Tell me how much you want it.”

The chat erupts in eager replies, but they’re a distant hum compared to the pounding of your heart. You can’t look away.

Though he keeps his face just out of view, it’s his voice that captures you, that low, velvety timbre punctuated by soft, breathy moans. They’re unintentional, almost reluctant, but they strike something deep within you.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, as your eyes remain glued to the screen. The way his hands move—slow, teasing, purposeful—sends heat coursing through your body. Every movement is a study in precision, a dance of tension and release that makes your breath hitch.

You feel your body responding in ways you didn’t expect. Warmth pools low in your belly, and your thighs press together instinctively. Your fingers hover near the trackpad, ready to click away but unable to follow through.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?” he continues, his voice breaking into a soft groan that sends a shiver down your spine. Why is this actually feeling…good. You can’t stop yourself from imagining those hands on you, guiding you, making you forget everything—your ex, the breakup, the shitty job market, the confusion of the past weeks.

For a moment, you close your eyes and let the sound of his voice wash over you. Your fingers inch lower, hesitating, as you let yourself get lost in the moment. You’re not thinking about the consequences, about what this means. You’re thinking about him—his hands, his voice, the heat building inside you.

The guilt simmers beneath the surface, but it’s drowned out by the relentless pull of desire. The screen lights up your room, but it’s his voice and movements that light you up inside. You barely notice the chat anymore; it’s just you and him in this moment, an unspoken connection through the glow of the laptop.

Your breath comes in shallow gasps as your hand moves on its own accord, slipping under the waistband of your shorts. You close your eyes again, imagining his hands instead of your own, his voice murmuring your name instead of the ones flooding the chat. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, you let yourself feel without holding back.

In this moment, nothing else matters. Fuck the breakup you had with Mingi. Fuck the stress of job searching. Fuck the awkwardness of living with him. And most importantly, fuck the consequences of watching this. It’s just him, the way he makes you feel, and the heat that consumes you completely.

Your breath hitches as your hands wander further, slipping under your shirt to tease at your nipples, fingers rolling and pinching lightly. Each touch sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, but it’s not enough—not compared to what you’re watching on the screen.

Not like Jin’s movements at all.

Jin’s hands move with expert precision against his dick, his body shifting slightly as he leans into the motions. His moans, soft yet intentional, echo in your ears, spurring your own need higher. You slide your shorts down your hips, the cool air kissing your skin as they drop to the floor.

Your fingers dip lower, grazing over the slick heat pooling between your thighs. It’s good, but not nearly enough. You want more. You need more.

With a frustrated sigh, you pull yourself away from the bed, heart pounding as you open the drawer of your nightstand. Your fingers quickly locate the toy nestled among your folded underwear. It’s a guilty secret you’ve kept for moments like this, though none of those moments have ever felt as charged as this one.

You crawl back onto the bed, the glow of the screen casting shadows over your skin. Jin’s voice fills the room, low and enticing, as he murmurs, “You want me to keep going? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Your thighs clench involuntarily at his words, your hand trembling slightly as you press the toy against yourself. The first vibration jolts through you, a gasp escaping your lips as your body arches into the sensation.

On the screen, Jin leans back slightly, his voice dipping even lower. “Just relax,” he says, as though he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Let me make you feel good.”

You follow his lead, letting the toy work against you as your free hand resumes teasing your chest. The pleasure builds steadily, your movements syncing with his as if he’s guiding you through the screen.

Every sound he makes, every deliberate motion, heightens the sensation coursing through you. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a soft moan slips out despite your efforts. The rhythm of the toy against you matches the cadence of his voice, and it feels as though he’s right there, coaxing you to the edge. You feel yourself almost reaching your orgasm.

But then…

The darkness in the room is lit by the various colored lights and monitor screens as Jin’s chest rises and falls. He begins to slows his movements on his cock, his fingers curling reflexively against his skin. For a brief, unguarded moment, his mind conjures your image—your laughter from earlier at dinner, the way you nervously tugged at the hem of your shirt when he reached out to reassure you.

Woah, what.

Why am I thinking about her right now?

The thought crashes into him like a freight train, shattering his carefully constructed cam-boy persona. His rhythm falters, and as he shifts back abruptly, his elbow knocks into the small Mario figure perched on the edge of his desk.

The figure wobbles, teeters, and then tumbles, the plastic base snapping cleanly off as it hits the hardwood floor.

“Shit!” Jin hisses, his hands flying up to stop the disaster that’s already occurred.

He quickly reaches for the webcam, clicking off the feed and muttering a quick excuse to his audience. “Hey guys, I’ll be right back. Technical issue. Don’t go anywhere.”

The chat floods with reactions—some disappointed, others supportive—but Jin pays them no mind. He gets himself covered up, with his focus no on the broken Mario figure in his hands.

He turns it over, the damage glaringly obvious. It’s just a silly little figurine to anyone else, but to Jin, it’s so much more. You’d given it to him during a Secret Santa exchange in elementary school. It was back when you were both just kids, long before life got complicated and your paths diverged.

He’d kept it all these years, quietly treasuring the memory of that moment, even if you probably didn’t remember.

“Damn it…” he mutters under his breath. He needs super glue—immediately.

The thought strikes him like lightning: you bought super glue just the other day to fix a keychain. You even mentioned it offhand while you were unloading groceries together.

You must have it in your room.

Without hesitation, Jin stands, his mind racing with urgency. You’d said you’d be up late for some seminar, so you’re probably awake. There’s no time to text or knock; he can just explain in person. You’re a few steps away anyway.

He pushes your door open, stepping inside in a rush, only for the world to come screeching to a halt.

His eyes widen as they land on you—sprawled on your bed, your shirt rucked up to expose bare breasts and heat, your shorts kicked off and forgotten. The unmistakable hum of a vibrator fills the air, the glow of your laptop illuminating your flushed face.

Holy shit, he just caught his new roommate and childhood rival… friend? masterbating.

Your hand freezes mid-motion as you look at him, your expression a mixture of shock and mortification.

For a moment, neither of you moves.

“I—” Jin stammers, his voice catching in his throat. His gaze darts away, his face heating up so fast it feels like it might combust. “I—oh my god—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”

Your own voice fails you, a strangled moaning sound escaping your lips as you scramble to pull the blanket over yourself, fumbling in a panic.

“W-What the hell, Jin!” you manage to croak, your voice high-pitched and shaky.

“I needed super glue!” he blurts out, clutching the broken Mario figure in his hands like it’s the most important thing in the world. “For this! It’s broken, and I—”

“This couldn���t wait?!” you snap, the mortification only growing as his words fully sink in.

Jin takes a step back, clearly flustered. “I didn’t think—! I mean, I thought you were—”

He freezes mid-sentence, his eyes darting to your laptop screen. His breath catches as the realization washes over him.

That’s my stream.

For a moment, the room is suffocatingly silent, his wide-eyed gaze flicking between you and the unmistakable paused screen of his cam boy persona on your laptop. You're watching me? The thought echoes in his mind, equal parts flattered and horrified.

Jin had sensed something was off earlier in the evening, even before all of this unfolded. After dinner, when he’d returned to his room, he’d noticed the Chaturbate tab—closed.

That was odd.

He distinctly remembered leaving it open before leaving for work this morning. He’d scheduled some exclusive content for his next stream and had moved the tab to a less conspicuous window. He figured maybe he’d closed it in a rush and forgotten.

But now, as he stood here, watching your flushed face buried in your hands, it started clicking into place.

Your awkward behavior during dinner—the way you fumbled through your answers, the slight tension in your laugh. He’d assumed you were just jittery from nerves after your job interview, but this? This was something else entirely.

How long have you known?

The realization settled in his chest like a slow-building weight, pushing him further toward clarity. His gaze softened, not with pity, but with a blend of intrigue and confusion.

“Y/N, you’re watching my camming stream?” he finally says, his voice low, incredulous.

You groan, your hands flying up to cover your burning face. “Oh my god. I can explain—no, wait, I can’t explain. Just—” You trail off, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole. Your voice is muffled through your palms as you mutter, “This isn’t what it looks like at all!”

You're kind of cute, all flustered like this, he thinks to himself.

Jin crosses his arms, leaning against your doorframe, and his lips quirk up into a lopsided smile. There’s amusement in his eyes, but also something more—interest, maybe? He tilts his head slightly, watching you squirm.

Maybe he should tease her a little, like old times.

“Wow,” he finally says, his voice low and teasing. “Have you been that lonely?”

Your head snaps up, your face somehow growing hotter. “What? No! I mean…” You falter, the truth sitting heavy on your tongue, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze. “Okay, maybe a little. The breakup was actually that bad and um…but this—this isn’t about that.”

He takes a step closer, his smirk softening into something gentler. “You could’ve told me.”

“Told you what?” you ask weakly, your heart pounding as he stands just a few feet away now.

“That you’ve been feeling like this. That you needed…” His voice dips, and his dark eyes flicker over you, lingering just a little too long. “Some help...”

Your breath catches, and you swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Seokjin, I don’t—”

“I could help,” he interrupts, his tone soft but unmistakably suggestive.

The weight of his words settles over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your mind racing. Is he serious? Does he mean what you think he means?

No, like why would he? What does he gain from this? Even he himself wonders.

“You could help?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud would shatter whatever fragile tension exists between you.

His eyes lock onto yours, and the look he gives you is steady, confident, and almost daring. “Yeah,” he says. “If you’d let me.”

He doesn’t think you’ll actually accept it, if anything, this is probably time for you to officially kick him out–

“Then help me, already.”

–

–

–

a/n: this is really long chapter because i really wanted to add some psychological warfare going on in reader's head + some character development as these two "childhood rivals" start to befriend each other now in their adult lives. i hope you enjoy this chapter. happy holidays!! thank you all for the support and for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

[httpknjoon]

taking chances | jjk

plot | After taking your chances with Jungkook three months ago, you two cross paths again. This time, the rockstar takes risks to ask Zafiro's royal princess out.

words | 4.7k+

genres | fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au

pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader

note | a continuation. i made a playlist for this series! feel free to check it out :) I hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I had fun writing this!

main masterlist | drabble series

“He totally likes you.”

Astrid immediately said as soon as you two were left alone in the palace. You know she has been itching to say that ever since you left Crystalline Stadium earlier. 

“Stop making up such a thing, Astrid,” you replied.

You don’t want to get your hopes high. But by the way that Jungkook acted earlier, your heart skipped with the idea that he might like you. Stop, YN. You warned yourself. This isn’t the first time you felt a brief infatuation with someone. It’s just that you usually took an interest in guys you bond with back when you were still studying. You never had a crush on someone you just saw singing and playing a guitar in a two-hour performance.

Unsatisfied with your response, your sister followed behind you as you walked up the stairs. She continue speaking behind you until you got in your room. She stopped on your room’s doorstep while you ignored her.

“I think everyone who was in that room can tell, YN. Jungkook tried to start a conversation with you! He was interested in you and your thoughts! He asked if you were a fan of their group even though you’re obviously not!  He even kissed your hand!” 

She was almost rapping with how many words she said in seconds. Her index finger points at your hand as if you were not aware of that. You rolled your eyes at how excited she seemed. 

“Can you lower your voice? I’m sure the house staff are already resting at this hour.” you quipped, trying to bury the topic away.

But Astrid was consistent. She went on, “And Mingyu! Mingyu tried to get our contacts. He tried! He also made Jungkook stand next to you before taking pictures with us.”

To avoid waking up other people in the palace, you just pulled her into your room and closed the door shut. A smile was stamped on her lips. You exhaled heavily, your shoulder rising up and down.

“Astrid, why are you pointing out all of these? What do you want me to do about it?”

Out of all the people in the world, you knew Astrid the most. You are each other’s partner in crime even though you have a six-year gap. You can read through her easily. That’s why she ran to you first when she needed help or advice. And based on that suspicious look on her face, her gears are turning for some crazy idea.

She grinned, “Give him a shot! Reach out to him.”

You immediately raised an eyebrow, scoffing, “Are you crazy?! Give him a shot?”

Astrid nods and you continue.

“Astrid, you don’t have to play Cupid for me. You didn’t even ask me if I–”

“Oh, you like him! You like him! I know it. I never saw you so timid and flustered with someone like earlier!” she cuts you off abruptly. “And the chemistry— it was crazy. I promise you, I never felt so thirdwheeled in my life.”

You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling at what she said.

“You still have your Instagram account, right?” she asked.

You acted clueless, “Of course, why would I delete it?”

Astrid slowly squinted her eyes at you, “No, not your official account. You know what I’ve been talking about. Your secret one. The one where you post your art.”

Tired, you nod your head defeatedly. You knew she won’t get off your back until you do something.

“Great!” she clapped her hands. “Now, slide into his DMs!”

You blinked, “Again, are you crazy?”

“Chill! It’s not like he’ll read it right away. He’s in the largest band in the whole world. He has millions of followers and you will be using your Finsta. It’s honestly a needle in a haystack situation.”

She’s right. It’s not like he will recognize you with your secret Instagram account.

“Then, why are we doing this if this is just impossible?” You asked with your hands on your hips.

“I don’t know.” Astrid paused. But then her eyes light up again,  “But let’s just try. Let’s see if destiny plays out.”

“Destiny, my foot.” you scoffed before reaching for your phone.

You sat on the other end of your bed. Your younger sister watched as you think, type, and think again. Less than two minutes later, you showed her your screen,

“There, I messaged him.”

Astrid’s eyes squinted while she scanned your chats to her favorite band’s singer, “Why do you still feel formal even when sliding into someone’s DM?” she teased. “Is this how you flirt?”

“Oh, shut up. Just go out of my room right now,” you told her like you were offended, threatening to throw your fluffy pillow in her direction.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Send it!” she cackled, standing up from the foot of your bed. She turned to you once again, “But in all seriousness though, thank you for coming with me tonight! I had so much fun. I appreciate it a lot.”

“Anything for my favorite sister.” you quipped.

She grinned and enveloped you in a tight hug. And after she leaves and closes your door, you find yourself staring at your phone screen. As if your breathing got heavier and louder.  Is he going to reply? Is he? If not, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal. We only met now. And it’s definitely not. It’s not like I’m hoping for it.

Shaking your head, you turned off your phone to stop your head from having more thoughts. You changed into your comfortable clothes and head to sleep, hoping not to have any special visitors in your dreams tonight.

“What did he say? What did he say?”

As soon as you get out of your bedroom door, your little sister greeted you with elated questions. You looked at her. She was still in her favorite pajamas while you are already ready for your agenda for the day.

“And good morning to you too, Astrid.” you smiled before walking past her and down the stairs. Of course, she followed behind you.

“Oh, my god. Did he reply? What did he say?”

She had her hands clasped on her chest when turned around to answer her. You can tell she had her hopes up high. 

“It was left on read, almost at the same time I sent it.”

The moment you said that, you see how the smile on her lips falls into a small o.

“Oh.”

“Guess, I’m just some needle in his haystack.” you joked, which made her pout. You laughed, shaking it off,  “I’m kidding. It’s fine.”

You entered the dining area of the palace. The staff who were serving your meals and preparing the table greeted you and your sisters. You greeted them back as you sat on your usual seats out of twenty other chairs in this spacious room.

“Rosie, can I ask for lemons and honey for my water?” you asked one of the servants.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness.”

“Thank you.”

You ignored the baffled look on Astrid’s face at the same time you tried to turn a blind eye to that tightness in your stomach when you open your phone this morning. You don’t want to show Astrid that you were expecting so you try to play it off.

Before you can take a bite from your toast, your sister finally said something. “Maybe he thought you were just a random account.”

As much as you appreciate her effort to make everything better, you just want to move on from this topic. You were already sure from the beginning anyways that it was impossible to have such a connection with a world-famous rockstar like Jungkook. It was great to meet and see him perform live anyway.

“Sure, sure, Astrid. Now, let’s just have a peaceful breakfast and go on our day.”

“Turn here!”

“On your left!”

“Princess, here!”

The continuous flashes of lights and clicking sounds of cameras goes along with the requests of the photographers around you. You tried to accommodate their requests, turning your head and subtly posing for their lenses. For a quick second, you glanced around the white carpet, scanning among the unfamiliar faces, and eased off your shoulder when you spotted Nathalie, your assistant private secretary, in the corner. She was just behind you, fixing the tail of your gown as you move.

This year’s Met Gala theme is something along the lines of reimagining fairytales. Anna Wintour exclusively invited five royalties from around the world to come to the event. You and Astrid were among those five invited royalties. But your sister had to withdraw just four days ago due to flu. After learning that news, you almost didn’t want to go. 

You posed for a few more shots before you see Nathalie gesturing for you to go up the carpeted stairs. Before you reached the top, your eyes spotted the designer of your gown, who walked earlier than you. 

“You look magnificent, Your Royal Highness.” she greeted you as you shake hands with her.

“Thank you so much, Maria. This gown is marvelous.” you praised her. “I appreciate the adjustments you made.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Fran and I just knew you would be perfect in that gown. So we accepted the requests you had before.”

The Dior gown was originally quite revealing on the chest part. As a royal, you were often required (but not limited) to wear something modest. So when you saw this yellow gown in the choices your stylist, Fran, presented to you, you chose it with the request to put a fine cover-up for that certain part.

“Anyway, we’re going inside for the tour. Are you coming, Your Highness?” she asked.

You paused, looking at her then to Nathalie, who is now beside you, “I’ll catch up.”

Maria smiled and bid her goodbye. You smiled at her before turning to your assistant. Your smile fades as you asked her,

“Are you really not going inside?”

“Yeah, I talked to other celebrity assistants here. Apparently, we can only stay here outside as we were not invited to enter the venue. Only the red carpet.” she explained.

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you bit your lip. You just air out your frustration through a small sigh through your nose. Nat smiled, handing you your purse.

“Don’t worry, Ma’am. Your phone’s in it. Taking personal photos was not allowed. But give me a call if you want to go after the dinner event. I’ll have our ride ready and I’ll meet you here at the outside.” she assures you, holding your gloved hand. “But please enjoy the night, Your Highness.”

“Astrid should have been here,” you mumbled, sounding like a kid about to throw a fit.

Nat chuckled with you. She knew your worries. This is the first time someone from your kingdom was invited to Met Gala. You are not only representing yourself but also your country. The pressure feels like you’re in a beauty pageant. 

“You don’t have to stay for too long, okay? Just mingle a little, sip some cocktails, and enjoy their dinner there. Then, you can dial me.” she tried to assure you again.

“Okay, okay.” you sighed. “Thank you so much, Nat.”

You began to walk away as she raised her two thumbs up. An event staff, who you mistook for a model who was just standing in the background,  gave you directions on where to turn and go. He said it was only cocktail hour, and the dinner will be starting later. He encouraged you to look around the exhibition. He also helped you with the trail of your gown so you to move more comfortably.

“Thank you–” you paused, waiting for him to say his name.

“My name is Drew, Your Highness.”

You nod as you gave him a smile, “Thank you, Drew.”

“Oh, Your Royal Highness!”

You turned as you heard someone addressing you in the busy background. There, you see the woman of the hour, Anna walking up to you. She was smiling and sans her fashionable sunglasses, different from what you would usually see in pictures. 

“Anna, thank you so much for the invite." you beamed before shaking hands with her. “Astrid sends her apologies for not being able to make it here tonight.”

“It’s fine. We will always have it next year! Let’s talk about this dress, it’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed while making you turn around for her. “The color suits you magnificently. And the tiara, it’s perfect! Who made it?”

“Oh, it’s from Zafiro. It was made by a local jeweler that the King commissioned.” you proudly replied.

With the image of a certain Disney princess in your stylist’s mind, your father gifted you a gold tiara with bejeweled red roses in it. Jewelry and such are Zafiro’s top products. It’s been your father’s goal to make your country known by producing delicate and elegant pieces of jewelry.

“Maybe we can feature it for our editorials in the future.” She suggested and finally, you. “Anyway, have you gone around the exhibition?”

“Not yet. I just got in here minutes ago.”

“You should look around here, Princess. There are a lot of wonderful works here, you’ll love it. I heard you’re an artist yourself too– Do you want some drinks?” she offered when a server passed by, holding a tray of various drinks.

“Sure. Red wine is fine.” you smiled and they handed you one. You carefully took a sip before continuing your talk with Anna, “I just paint and draw in my free time.”

“That’s what being an artist is, Your Highness.” she chuckled.

You two began to walk to the main exhibit. You were silently grateful to have company. She was graceful in describing and talking about the displayed fashion pieces. But of course, she is Anna Wintour. Other guests were approaching her. She then had to go and mingle with one of her favorite models.

“Please, enjoy. I’ll see you at our table later.” she smiled.

“I will. Thank you.”

And almost immediately when she walked away, you felt alone. You looked around and everyone know everyone. They were laughing and chatting while holding their glasses. Holding tighter to your own glass of wine, you took a long slow deep breath.

Just look around.

The place is amazing and if your sister was here, you would probably enjoy it. Still, you decided to look around.

“Do you think we can smoke in the bathroom?”

Jungkook simply chuckled at Mingyu’s mumbled question as they looked around the displays. Tonight was their first Met Gala. Jungkook was invited through Dior while his bandmate was invited through Balmain. They arrived separately but found each other inside the MET.

“Oh, hey, Jungkook! Mingyu!”

Before Jungkook can even recognize the owner of the voice, Louise was already standing in front of them. She smiled before kissing each of their right cheeks.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” she exclaimed, talking to Jungkook only. “I watched your band’s show last week in Nashville with my best friends. You were so good! We tried to congratulate you backstage but your manager said you’re not accepting guests.”

This time, her hand lands on his chest, feeling the texture of his tux. Mingyu was hiding his teasing grin as he take a sip in his cocktail. Jungkook forced a smile before holding the model’s hand. He played it off to remove her hand away as he replied.

“Yeah, I… was kinda sick.”

Louise's eyebrows raised as she awwed, “Oh, how are you now?”

“I’m good. I got better,” he replied awkwardly.

He side-eyed his best friend for a quick second. It was a simple signal for help as Jungkook felt claustrophobic in this current scenario he is in. Louise is no stranger to him. They have met before and became acquaintances, way too far than she claims in interviews. She slides in his DM whenever she can, which in that case is every week. Jungkook always tries to be polite to her, replying to her relentless greetings. But he always finds a way to excuse himself from her invitations to hang out. He’s just not interested.

Mingyu, who is aware of this, butts in, “You know, I think the dinner will be served soon. We should go to our table.”

“Really? Maybe we should.” Jungkook agrees.

Louise seemed to frown for a second before another celebrity greeted her and got her lost in a conversation. Mingyu took the chance to pull Jungkook away, mixing in the crowd.

“The last time you were sick, we were in Zafiro.” Mingyu scoffed. 

Jungkook rolled his eyes and as if it was fated, his eyes landed on someone in a yellow gown. He cannot see properly due to distance and a bit of dim light. But he can recognize who it was.

“Is… that YN?” he guessed, making his bandmate look in the same direction.

"She’s here?!”

You were chatting with a famous celebrity couple. His heart skips when he sees you laugh. To say that you looked wonderful would be an understatement. You were easily noticeable with the color of your gown that suits you absolutely. He wondered if you had been here earlier or later than him. He didn’t know you were making an appearance. But he’s not that surprised that you’re here as you were known to be a fan of the arts too. 

“Let’s go talk to her–”

“Please go back to your seats, dinner will be served.” a staff interrupted them.

Jungkook sees you being guided as well by someone who you seemed to know. He assisted you with your dress and Jungkook quietly eyes you two until he saw you seating at the same table as Anna Wintour and other major guests. 

“Oh, it’s an honor to meet you!”

One of your favorite musicians is now seating next to you. You cannot stop yourself from smiling as she introduced herself. You didn’t mean to be so excited to shake her hands when she offered it.

“Oh, my. The honor’s all mine! I do know who you are! I am a fan of yours.” you exclaimed. “I know jazz isn’t really your main genre. But I really adore every jazz song you performed. You and Tony Bennett were fantastic together when I watched you perform during your tour years ago ”

“Thank you so much, Princess YN.” Lady Gaga replied.

She was so nice as you express your love for her jazz endeavors. You felt more comfortable, sitting next to her. She even made conversations with you and complimented you with your gown. Your heart was happy. You almost forgot she was a co-host of the event if she didn’t mention it.

“I heard this is your first time visiting New York, Your Highness.” 

Another known designer, who was at the same table as you, brought up. Suddenly, everyone’s eyes are on you and you felt smaller in your seat. This is strange.

“It is,” you replied with a small smile.

“How are you enjoying it so far?” an actor asked.

“Oh, I haven’t really been anywhere than my hotel room.” you joked. “I just arrived here this morning.”

Then, everyone starts recommending what you should do and where you should visit. They mentioned popular spots and restaurants. They also added some seemingly fun activities. But as much as you like that, you will not be staying for too long in the country for your duty in Zafiro. But instead of telling that, you just replied:

“I will, I will.”

Throughout the whole dinner, Jungkook tried to remain engaged in whatever conversation was happening in their own table circle. He laughed along to their jokes while also stealing glances in your direction. He sees you mingling and laughing at the beginning of the dinner service.

But as the night gets older and almost everybody began standing up from their chairs to dance along to the music being played in the background, you remained in your seat. Jungkook thought of going up to you to invite you to maybe dance, but he saw you kindly declining a couple of people who tried to do the same thing. You just watched them quietly.

“Hey, JK.” Mingyu, who has right beside him, snapped him out of his gaze at you.

Jungkook turned his head around.

His friend continued, “There’s an afterparty hosted by Stell McCartney at Zero Bond. Let’s go. I think everyone’s coming there. It’s gonna be fun.”

“Yeah, sure. We just can’t stay too late. We still have to perform tomorrow.” Jungkook reminds him and Mingyu nods.

And when Jungkook looks back at the same spot you were at, your chair is already empty. One of his eyebrows raised and his eyes traveled around the place. After a quick scan, he spotted your back going in the direction of the main exhibit.

You don’t know why. But sometimes, being a royal makes you feel a bit isolated. It’s not that no one wants to interact with you– actually, a lot of people did. It’s just that you know every move you do will reflect your country and family.  So, you try to be careful in this large, crowded event. So, here you are, in one of the most significant and fabulous events in the fashion world, sitting on the same chair you have been sitting in thirty-five minutes ago.

Three men had already tried to invite you to vibe along with the fun music but you only smiled and gently reject them. You don’t really dance except for formal ones. 

“She doesn’t really talk much, doesn’t she?”

It was a whispered question that you managed to hear from someone not too close to you. Even though they didn’t mention any names, you knew who they were talking about. You felt glances towards you. So you turned, offering a small smile to them. They seemed surprised as their eyes widened before they smiled back, slightly bowed, and walked away. 

Maybe I should just call Nat.

You sighed, agreeing to that idea. But before that, you get up and silently make your way to the main exhibit. To at least look around one last time before you leave this magnificent museum.

It was quieter in this area. A staff bowed at you when your eyes met as you entered the room.

“I apologize, can I still look around here?” you asked them.

“Of course, ma’am. We just don’t expect someone going in here while the party is still going on there,” she said and you simply smiled.

You felt calmer as you take in the intricate designs of the gowns displayed. Even the suits for men were perfect for the theme. Without many people around, you were given more chances to focus on the displays. You simply examine every design that was brought to your younger years. You used to sketch unlimited numbers of clothes and designs when you got your first crayons and sketchpad. It’s nothing compared to these gowns but it showed your colorful imagination back then. You imagine the four-year-old version of yourself jumping up and down while looking at every fashion gown and suit.

“Enjoying the night, Princess?”

“Oh!”

You almost jumped in your gown when you see a certain man when you turned around. Your hand was clutched on your chest as you blinked.

“Jungkook.” your feeble voice murmured, still in shock at his sudden appearance.

“It’s nice to see you again, Princess YN.”

And once again, he held your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. You wondered if he felt how cold it was or how you froze with–again– the unexpected action. Maybe he can hear how loud your heart beats. Or how many butterflies played around in your stomach the moment you felt his lips on your skin. 

Does he really love doing this to everyone he meets?

You don’t want to think you were being treated specially by him through this action, especially since you got no reply after reaching out to him three months earlier. 

“You know for someone who has been attending massive royal events ever since they were little, you seemed pretty flustered tonight.”

Jungkook tried to break the silence. He was scared by your reaction when he looked at you after kissing your hand. You were just staring at him. But after he said that, you gently took away your hand as you straightened up your posture.

“Well, that’s because Zafiro is different from other places like these,” you replied in a joking manner, but you were just being honest.

Then suddenly, silence found its way between you two. It’s not awkward. Nor suffocating. It’s strangely peaceful. There was still this distant sound of the party away but Jungkook found himself in a staring battle against you. And admittedly, he felt conscious when you ran your eyes from his down to his outfit. Then back on his eyes again.

“Is that real?” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“The piercing on your lip.”

“Oh.” Jungkook touched the silver ring on the corner of his lips. “It is. Wanna touch?”

He said it as a joke and he smiled when he saw you finally smile and giggle.

“Thank you for the offer. But I would have to decline that. It looks great on you and so is your suit.” you told him, making him shyly scratch the back of his neck.

“Thank you, I could say the same thing with you. You’re stunning as always.”

As always. That one was embarked in your mind even though you tried to not think much about it. You cleared your throat,

“What are you doing here anyway, Mister? The party is happening inside.”

He slipped his hands in his pants pockets, “I can ask the same thing of you, Your Highness.”

“I’m just taking one last tour around here before I call for my ride.” 

His eyebrows raised, “You’re leaving already?”

“Uh, yes,” you answered, ignoring the question in your head that said: was he sad I’m leaving already?

“You’re not going to any after-parties? I and Mingyu is actually going to one of those. Maybe I can contact you through–”

But you cut him off before you can fully think, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Jeon, considering that you didn’t respond when I reached out to you after we met.”

Lines were automatically between his brows as he heard, “What?! I didn’t receive anything from your communication office in Zafiro.”

“You took that seriously?” you scoffed.

“Of course, I did. I thought you don’t really give your number to anyone outside your family.”

“Well, okay. But I messaged you after we met.” you went on.

“What?!” 

“I DM-ed you.”

“What?”

“With my private account. You immediately read it after I sent it. Wait, let me show you.”

Reaching in your purse, you got your phone. You don’t know why are you even doing this. You tapped on your screen quickly, slightly feeling determined. This seems risky. You went straight to your secret account and opened the one and only message you had there. You showed it to the man in front of you and watched his eyes get bigger as read it.

He was fast to explain himself, “Oh my god, I remembered that one! But I was sick and drowsy in the following days later, maybe that’s why I didn’t respond. I forgot. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

You processed everything in your head. Jungkook stood there, waiting for you to say something when an idea popped into his head.

“How about this?” he began. “Our band will be performing for a night here in New York tomorrow. It’s one of our last performances for our tour.  Are you still here by then?”

“I’ll be flying back to Zafiro tomorrow, before midnight,” you replied almost automatically. Like you were programmed to do so.

“Okay, the concert will be starting at eight. It will probably end by ten. Maybe we can still meet backstage. You know… to hang out.” he pursed his lips by the last sentence.

You squint your eyes at him, “Is this a sorry gift?”

“No, just like what you mentioned in your message,  it’s an invitation. But with a backstage pass.”

Nat eyed you through the moving car’s rearview mirror. You were biting off a smile as you looked down, typing on your phone.

“Any plans to tour around the city tomorrow, Your Highness?”

Your eyes remained glued to your screen as you replied, “Maybe. But free up my last six hours here. I’m going to a concert.”

kindly read my taglist rules before u comment about being added to the list. tysm!

taglist rules

THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST

@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @thvlover7 @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @coralmusicblaze @stupendouscookiehumanmug @namgoogieee @yoonjinhusbands @borahaeb1ch @lilliankoo @gxtwllsn @taechvita @snkyuv @canyon-lwt @hiii-priestess @jksgirlhere @razzletaffy @bbtsficrecs @jnk-pop @jjeonjjk7 @tokkiggukie @cuntessaiii @annoyingcolorfox @kooliv

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd​ @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12

[sturniozo]

Savage Love Part Two

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

A/N: I’m so happy y’all like the first part it’s insane!!! I have so many plans for this fic tbh hehe I have so much ready already but I want to finish tutor as well which only has a few parts left but asshhhhhh thank you guys for all the praise on part one you have no idea how much it means to me!!!

masterlist

“You’re joking.” Emma says. I just stare at her. “No fucking way. Matt Sturniolo took care of you while you were drunk! A total stranger!” She smiles. “That’s a scoop!”

“Yeah, it’ll get you something big.” I nod.

“Not me, you. Too humanitarian for my writings. But you, with your do good and help the planet and its people look on life…. An article about the most ruthless and powerful man taking care of a helpless stranger while she’s intoxicated! That’ll get you something big!”

I smile at her. “I’ll have to get to writing it fast. Kyler doesn’t like old news. I’ll need it out by tonight for it to be any good to him.”

Kyler is our boss, the editor of our newspaper. Even though it’s a small newspaper outlet, our boss is a hardass, and I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t fired me already.

~

I set the stapled sheets of the freshly printed article on Kyler’s desk.

“What is this?” He asks without even looking up at me.

“It’s my article. Matt Sturniolo has a soft spot.” I bite my lip and Kyler looks up at me, seemingly intrigued.

“Matt Sturniolo?” He asks. I nod and he picks up the article, quickly reading and flipping through it. I had made sure to not mention it was me that Matt had taken care of, and made it seem like another person had told me about it. “Where did you get this?”

“Anonymous source.” I reply. Kyler nods and hands it back to me. “Send it to print and have it on a middle column that’s free.” He looks back at his computer and I take the article and quickly leave.

I smile to myself as I take the article to print. I tell the guys exactly what Kyler told me to tell them and they nod, taking the article from me and shooing me away.

I go back to my desk and sit down, not able to wipe the smile off my face. I look over my computer and see Emma, on the phone with someone I assume is another person she’s crossed when writing an article about them after they slept together.

Not long before the end of the day, Kyler comes out of his office for the debrief. Everyone tells him their scoops and he gives them the yes or no. Then it comes to me.

“Do you think you can talk to that anonymous source again?” He asks me.

I hesitate but Emma answers for me. “She definitely can!”

“Good. I want confirmation on the rumors that Matt Sturniolo is the head of the Mafia in New York. Can you get it to me?”

“She sure can!” Emma answers for me again.

“Get me confirmation in a month. I want updates and articles until then.” Kyler demands. He then surveys the room before leaving back to his office.

“A month? How am I supposed to get that information in a month?” I ask Emma.

“Well, you have his number don’t you?” She tells me.

I sigh. “I guess.”

“You guess?! Use the number! Call him! He’ll do it now!”

“Really?”

“If you don’t get that article in within a month, Kyler will fire you!”

I sigh again and pull out my phone and the card Matt had given me. I dial the number and put it on speaker for Emma to hear.

“Hello?” The other end says.

“Hi, is this Matt? We met at the party, you took me to the hotel room when I was too drunk to stand?”

“Dollface, I’ve been waiting for your call.” Matt says and my stomach flips in circles. “Did you change your mind?”

I laugh softly before saying “I guess you can say that.”

“Meet me tonight at 7, at the hotel.”

“Alright.”

“Bye dollface.” He says before hanging up.

“Dude, that was so booty-call-esque.” Emma says and laughs. “I thought you weren’t a hook up type?”

“I not. But I need this story.”

“I know. I’ll help you.”

“Help me?”

“You’re going into my territory. You’re sleeping with people for information.”

“Not people, just Matt. And who know is he’ll even tell me anything.”

“Oh he won’t tell you anything. You have to pick things up on your own.”

“What?” I laugh.

“Like if he takes a call after sex, what he says, who’s in the other end. Or if he says he has a meeting, ask who with. And keep hooking up with him. The more you hookup, the more he’ll be willing to share with you.”

I take a deep breath. “I can do this. I can hook up.” I tell myself.

The truth is I don’t think I can just hook up. The only guy I’ve ever been with and had sex with was my high school boyfriend, who cheated on me and made me feel like I wasn’t good enough half the time we were together.

“You got this.” Emma says

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi

[saintslewis]

❝ in the end ❞

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x black fem! driver reader

summary: two childhood best friends that the world absolutely fell in love with but are they ever going to fall in love with each other?

warnings: swearing, cussing, reader age description

saint’s notes: another indirect request from the lovely @bbymelsworld about the knight in mercedes armour, lewis! i hope you everyone enjoys this and sorry for typos!

taglist: @thisismeracing

social media au.

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, zendaya and 8,738,938 others

yourusername thank you Bahrain, until next time 🩷

view comments

user i need the both of them in a way that is concerning to feminism

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liked by yourusername

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liked by yourusername

fan girl, you hidin these archives of Lew to yourself???

yourusername they gotta be used at the right time so basically, yes ❤️

twitter

lewishamilton

liked by f1, georgerussell63 and 3,838,919 others

lewishamilton :) ❤️

view comments

user oh that’s not-

fan i love you but please be so fucking fr

neymarjr congrats bro! 🫵🏽❤️

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hisgirlfriend ❤️

liked by lewishamilton

user so he’s not even going to reply to her damn comment? 😭

user it’s bc these two aren’t meant to be 😭

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fan this is upsetting me and my homegirls DEEPLY

fan #lewisandyn4eva

fan #lewisandyn4eva

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user RIHANNA?!

ynfan ik y/n’s heart is so broken, they were endgame

ynfan lewis better watch his back fr

yourusername

liked by arianagrande, sza and 5,828,829 others

yourusername time to myself + a little treat for myself

view comments

user GYATTTT

lilymhe HELLO????

yourusername hi Lily 😋

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fan omg he didn’t even like the picture, what have we come to?

fan the heartbreak we’re having

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michaelbjordan 😫

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beyonce ❤️

“Lewis Hamilton has broken up with influencer girlfriend, sources say.”

three months later

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, pharrell and 9,252,739 others

yourusername you’ve been hiding in plain sight then appeared, oh i know 🤍

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lewishamilton i love you so much, my princess ❤️

yourusername i love you and btw i left you some stir fry for when you get back ❤️

zendaya FUCKING FINALLY

landonorris WEDDING WHEN

lewishamilton we actually eloped last month but we’re planning the official wedding :)

user THEY LITERALLY DATED FOR LIKE TWO MONTHS AFTER THAT AND NOW THEY’RE MARRIED?!

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cleosol so grateful to be part of the proposal, love you two

liked by yourusername

user THE PINK WIG REFERENCE OMGGGG

user now THIS is friends to lovers done perfectly

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yourusername yes and because we’re amazing drivers

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marsaimartin MY PARENTS Y’ALL

landonorris actually, they’re my parents 🫤

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landonorris yourusername pls confirm this????

yourusername 🫣

lewishamilton • 44 min

[daydreams-after-dark]

What's your fanfic fantasy? part 13

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

Premise: fem reader + Chan + Jisung 18+ fanfic. This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: We get some insight into Jisung's perspective.

a/n: my baby boy Jisung. I think this is my most favorite chapter of all of them... but the one after this is going to be pretty good too.

Warnings: oral sex, unprotected p in v sex.

Jisung pov.

Jisung woke up in the middle of the night still wrapped up in your quilt and still very naked. He rubbed his eyes and wondered what time it was. He groaned as he unraveled himself from the bedding and searched for jeans to retrieve his phone from the pocket.

3.20 am. Would you and Chan be asleep yet? He decided to take a chance, and with nothing but a throw blanket wrapped around him, and his phone in his hand, he padded down the hall to his and Chan’s room.

He stopped at the door and pressed his ear up to the timber. No signs of sex noises. Must be safe. Gently, Jisung pushed the door open and crept inside. He wasn’t prepared for the emotions that hit him as he entered the moonlit room. Excitement. Fear. Relief.

Chan was the love of his life. He truly thought there would never be anyone else for him. Until the day he met you. A year ago next month. Chan had invited you to come watch the band play at a club. “This is an old friend, y/n.” He introduced you to him. Jisung thought he had lost access to oxygen. You were stunning, in a unique, weird way. You were one of a kind, and you took his breath away.

Over the past year year, Jisung noticed Chan would talk about you more and more. Jisung knew Chan was bi, and Jisung wasn’t in the slightest bit surprised to learn that Chan had a thing for you.

“Channie, Hyung. You like her a lot don’t you?” Jisung had asked one night after making love. “Hmm, yes Sungie… but you’re the only one for me. You’ll always be the only one for me.” Jisung couldn’t bring himself to share his own feelings about you. He was confused by them. Han was bi too, and although he had slept with women before, he had never really fallen for any. To suddenly have images of squeezing your ass or wondering what your pussy felt like, as well as have his heart pound like he was having a heart attack whenever he saw you, was a new feeling for him. He could never bring himself to sharing those thoughts and feelings with Chan. He wasn’t sure why.

He felt like he was betraying him though. When he’d masturbate to the thoughts of you, he’d feel like he was cheating on him. Even though he knew perfectly well that Chan would jerk off to you. It didn’t bother Jisung that his lover fantasized about you, but he felt so fucking guilty when he did it himself.

But now you were going to be their girlfriend. He couldn’t believe what was happening that first night, when he got to be with you. On the couch. He was so nervous that he wouldn’t know what to do, or how to touch you. It’d been so long since he’d been with a woman. But with Chan urging him on, and the way you responded to his touch, Jisung lost it, ending up a quivering mess. He wondered if Channie knew that he had feelings for you?

As Jisung approached the bed where his lovers slept, he was certain the pounding of his heart would wake you. There you were. Chan was sprawled out on his back naked. He was out of it. You were curled up against him on your side. The single, thin sheet barely covering you, offering Jisung an outline of your bodies underneath. Jisung smirked at the thought of what you had been up to as he dropped the throw blanket to the floor and slipped in beside you.

“Is that you Jisung?” You squeaked. Jisung stopped still, he hadn’t meant to wake you. “I’ve been waiting for you.” You carefully rolled over onto your other side and wrapped your arm around him. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

You leaned into the side of his body and nuzzled your chin into his neck. Jisung’s breath hitched at the skin to skin contact, and his heart was emitting a delicious warmth across his chest. This felt so intimate. So special. Like you were the only two people awake on the planet.

“Baby.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll always come for you.” He couldn’t help but quip, even in a moment like this.

You lifted your head to find Jisung’s lips, seemingly ignoring his childish joke, and instead gave him a long slow kiss. You tasted like Chan, and it made Jisung’s dick hard.

You removed your lips from his, and slowly kissed your way down his torso, while your hands explored the peaks and valleys of his muscles. So far your interactions were all about Jisung serving you, but right then it seemed you wanted to take care of him.

Without being able to see you clearly in the dim moonlight, Jisung’s skin was more sensitive and your touch made him shiver in the best possible way. His nerves tingled, and he had to focus all his concentration on not moaning too loud so as to not wake Chan.

Then he felt it. Your hand around the base of his cock, gripping him firmly. He sucked in his breath as he felt your hot, wet mouth take him in. You didn’t even tease him with a kitten lick, or a swirl of the tongue, you just sunk yourself right down over his shaft and paused when your lips met your hand. Jisung gripped the sheets underneath his hands trying to anchor himself. So this is how your mouth feels around his cock? He thought to himself. Then your started to move, taking your mouth all the way up so just the head of his dick was between your lips, pausing, and sinking back down in one motion. Such sweet agony.

“Y/n, please.” He begged, squeezing his eyes tight. Part of him wanted you to keep going like this, but he needed to be inside your pussy.

“You taste so good, Jisung.” You whined.

“I need you… to make love to me.” Jisung whimpered. “Please… need you..” He panted.

You released his throbbing, leaking cock and crawled your way to lay on top of him, straddling him and taking his mouth in another tender kiss. “Jisung,” you ground your core against the length of his cock. “Need you too… so bad.”

Jisung gripped your hips, lifting you up so he could maneuver himself, the tip of his cock prodded at your entrance. Your winced as the tip began to stretch you.

“Baby?” Jisung questioned. “Are you sore? We don’t have to do this tonight.”

You hesitated.

“Baby? I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered.

You pulled off Jisung’s cock and laid against his torso, and he wrapped his arms around you. “It’s okay, baby.” He soothed, stroking your back.

“I really want to, Jisung…” you sobbed.

“Hey… we’ll have plenty of time to do this.” He kissed your hair. “Actually, I know what I want to do…Lay on your back for me, baby.”

You rolled off of him onto your back as instructed, and he shimmied down between your legs, pushing them apart gently. He held your thighs apart as he gently licked your lips. He couldn’t see anything but he could feel you were swollen. Binnie had been brutal with his ministrations, and Jisung wondered how on earth you managed to take Chan after that. Jisung wanted to make you feel better. He wanted to sooth your abused pussy with with tender kisses. He worked slowly, using a flat, wet tongue to deliver sloppy kisses to your sensitive core. You moaned in approval. He dipped his tongue between her folds while his lips massaged your outer labia. He heard your breathing pick up and your hips began to rock slightly. He hooked his arms under your thighs so he could nuzzle in more, lapping up your pussy like he was the thirstiest man alive.

You laced your fingers in his hair, tugging his locks, pulling him against you. But Jisung had no plans to go harder or faster. He wasn’t in any hurry.

“Ji… I’m ready now… ready for your cock.” You whimpered. “Let me try riding you again.”

Jisung peeled away. “Are you sure, baby?”

“Please let me try… I really want you.”

Jisung repositioned himself on his back and you straddled him once more.

“Lean down on me, baby… yes like that.” Jisung directed you to lay against his chest, and he guided his hips to line himself up.

He moved slowly as he penetrated you, and you both gasped at the squeeze as he filled you up completely. For a moment you just stayed like that.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yes… I love having you so close to me, Jisung.” You breathed.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” Jisung’s voice was deep and gruff. The desire he felt was so thick, so strong, he thought his body was going to explode.

“It’s been less than day.” You rolled your hips trying to build some friction between your bodies.

“No, baby. I’ve wanted you so much longer than this week.” He instantly regretted saying it. You stopped moving. Jisung closed his eyes, berating himself internally. From what Jisung could tell, your feelings were new. You were still figuring them out. Maybe it had been too much to confess that he’d felt something for far longer?

“How long?” You said coolly, hovering above him but remaining still.

Jisung hesitated. “Not as long as Channie, but…” he swallowed. Should he admit to how long? He hadn’t even told Chan. You brought a hand up to caress his cheek. “Please tell me.” You breathed.

“The moment I saw you.” There he said it. He said it out loud.

You leaned down and hugged him tight, then found his mouth again. This time slipping your tongue deep inside like you wanted to crawl inside of him.

Jisung broke the kiss and held your face in his hands. He could hardly see your face. “Are you mad?” he said shakily.

“Oh Ji,” You sobbed. “I’m not angry. I’m just so sorry I’ve made you wait this long.”

Jisung’s eyes prickled and tears began to roll down his cheeks as emotions flooded him. He was thankful you couldn’t see him crying like this.

“Let me make it up to you Jisung, my love.” You kissed his cheek, your lips would no doubt have tasted his tears, then you began to roll your hips again, undulating on top of him, squeezing your walls around his cock. Your hands gripped his shoulders and you began to make love as quietly and as still as possible.

As the tension built, you started to move more frantically, sitting up so you could ride his cock harder and faster. You both tried to stifle your moans as your neediness took over, and Jisung sat up too so you could muffle your whimpers with each other’s mouths. Jisung’s hand slid down between your bodies, finding your clit and circling it the way he knew drove you wild. He knew your body so well already and you began to rock your hips with abandon. Jisung snaked his other hand around to cup your ass and he began lifting you up off his cock and slamming you back down so you could get as much stimulation as possible.

Sweat covered your skin, and tears marred your faces as you reached your climax together.

Jisung had never felt happier than he did right in that moment.

--------------------------

Chan pov

Chan pretended to lay asleep as he heard his Jisung and you make love. Now you lay quiet in each others arms, spent. He didn’t know Jisung felt that way about you. He was too caught up in himself to notice the signs. Poor Jisung. Chan vowed then and there to make sure that he felt safe enough to share anything with him. But now everything was going to be fine. You had each other now. Him, Jisung and you.

@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @piscesrising01 @lunearta @shltsnglggles @lilbabiebunni @jiminssluttyminx @armystay89 @krayzieestay @stellasays45 @hxnnielk @yaorzu-blog @anjian03 @tsunderelino @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @privhace @kyunchoni @writhingwrecked @kisses-too-the-moon @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @meilix @ismokeeweed @leftovercigarettes @galaxycatdrawz @grandma143

[joydoesathing]

hello!! so i followed you on twitter because i LOVE your nu:car genderbend designs AND your art is just so beautiful and creative. i love how expressive and fun it is!! and now, you recently got me into tnmn 😭 i started playing it and now i’m having brainrot over it, but specifically more on your genderbend au!! (i’ve been gushing about your designs and au to my friend who is also getting into tnmn with me, lmaoo)

and i want to say that i LOVE your design for steph and mckendra. i’ve been simping so hardcore for steph, i was lowkey disappointed when i saw what steven actually looked like in game 😭

so on that note, do you have any headcanons for the rudboys?

i'm glad that you like both my nukani ladies art and my current art in tnmn too, anon❤️❤️

anyway, without further a do, here my hcs for the rudboys girlies

The Rudboys

The cool, tomboyish ladies™️

Definitely speak with a Southern accent (though Steph has been used to speaking with the standard American accent as well, especially when talking with others in her workplace. The Southern accent becomes prominent when she's around her mom or when she's emotional)

Mr. Rudboys (Steph's dad and Kendra's husband) got killed by a doppel around the late 40s, being one of the earliest cases of doppel attack casualties. Almost immediately after that incident, the two were relocated into the apartment.

Stephanie

She's quite serious, especially in her workplace where she does not tolerate nonsense from her colleagues, but does have a sense of humor (though it's mostly of the snarky variant)

Not really used to letting loose in front of others, so when she actually does try, she can be quite awkward (in an adorable way)

Secretly fond of cute animals

She cut her hair short only recently within a decade. After her dad untimely passing and seeing that her mother was clearly shaken up from that incident, she took it upon her self to act as man of the house and toughen up. She then cut her hair the way she did as some kind of mark of her commitment to her decision.

At first, her mom was horrified and thought Steph got mugged but eventually got used to it. She didn't tell her reason for cutting her hair to her mom, until much later on in the 50s, and her mom reacted this way:

She does gets relentlessly teased and doted on by her mom, but she mostly let it slide, even if it does cause her really bad embarrassment.

Mckendra

A lively and outgoing person with a strong sense of humor

Old lady with a young person's soul

In her younger days, she was barnstormer but later on worked as a flight instructor for a little while, then settled down and retiring in the early 40s.

The hat that she wears belonged to her late husband and she gets quite fussy if people try to touch it or take it off from her head

One night in the late 40s, while at home with her husband, a doppel broke into the house planning to kill and eat them both. The two did put up a fight with the doppel , but it ended up with Mr. Rudboys brutally dying in the end.

Months after the incident, she developed serious separation anxiety and would obsessively coddle Steph. Although, most of it has died down now and she's fine with Steph going out, she still does dote a lot on Steph and is quite protective of her.

She also prefers not to openly talk about her husband with others. She often tends to dissociate when the talk is about spouses.

[kpopcafeeee]

Call me baby like before

Paring: johnny suh x fem! reader

Genre: smut, Exs to lovers, collage au

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:frat boy ex Johnny! Smut, kissing, moaning, fingering, public sex(hot tub) IM SORRY, begging, degration, dom johnny,sub reader, hair pulling

Summary: you and Johnny broke up 5 months ago and hasn’t seen each other since the break up until there’s a pool party hosted by his a fraternity you and your best friend haechan go there just to have fun but you went there for and fun until you found another reason to go

A/N: this is my first post and I’m really nervous if I misspelled something please contact me!!!! And also if this goes well I’ll do more stories about nct and other groups and here’s my inspiration kinda😅

ENJOYYY:)

“Haechan what if he’s there?!” You yell to your best friend “then ignore him and have a good time” he says as he drags you to the car while the others are waiting for you two. You, haechan, Yuta, doyoung, taeyong are all going to the pool party together as friends. You hear the horn beep several times until a random person addresses the sound as you and haechan runs to the car “took you assholes long enough” Yuta says “we were about to leave your asses” doyoung says

“ anyways we have to make one stop before we go to the party” while doyoung and Yuta were in the store getting the beer together you and taeyong and haechan were in the car on your phones

You were looking through insta until you say a specific story on insta was a taeil and jaehyun taking a photo until you spotted Johnny in the back kissing a girl

Haechan saw your face frown so he took your phone “don’t worry about him have some fun” haechan said he was trying to make you feel better he pulls you into a hug and you start to smile and feel better

When doyoung and Yuta came back with the beers it was time to go

You guys made it to the party on time and decided to split up when you guys go inside and go have fun and get drunk, you had on a red bikini with a transparent cover up to make you look sexy and ready to have fun you and haechan have fun together and jump in the pool together,You guys have fun and enjoy the party and while you guys we’re having fun you met a cute guy named mark haechan winks at you and starts to blend in with the crowd at the party,

you and mark starts talking and you feel like your being watched by someone and starts to feel awkward so you tell mark that your going to the bathroom and you’ll be right back, while walking to the bathroom you hear footsteps behind you but brushes it off, when you come back you and mark starts talking again until you wanted another drink you told mark and he said he’ll wait until you come back again when you went inside the loud house to get some drinks for you and mark you still felt like you were being watched and so you hurried to go get the drinks you make it to the kitchen where all the drinks were and grabbed to beers out the fridge until you felt someone behind you turned around to see your ex Johnny fucking suh, “missed me baby?”

His gaze making you feel small under him you try to push him away but he’s to strong “no I haven’t now move” you say but he doesn’t budge at all instead he moves closer to you making you feel his breath in your ear “you know you miss me I’ve been looking at you all night and you’re not even interested in poor mark” wide eyes you look at him face redder than a tomato “ I-i don’t know what your talk about” you say stuttering “oh yes you do baby you know your still interested in me” he holds your chin with his finger to make you look him in the eyes “so why are you lying baby?”.

You try to push him away again but he doesn’t move a bit still after a few minutes has passed he takes your hand in his and leads you outside again and going in the hot tub this time and marks sees this and you give him a sorry look and he gives you a it’s ok look and goes inside to go talk to haechan and his other friends “aww looks like he’s gone” when you and Johnny get in the hot tub your sitting on his lap facing from him you can feel his cock getting hard under the water “so you like dressing up as a slut” he says while playing with the hem of your bikini, he slides your bikini bottom over to reach your cunt you where already wet from earlier and while walking to the hot tub, he slips two fingers inside your cunt and starts fingering you, you gasp from the contact trying your best to hold your moan in biting your lip very hard to stop it

He starts kissing your sensitive spot on your neck that he likes he knew how to please you and knew how to get you on your knees quickly so it didn’t take him that long from hitting your sweet spot in your cunt he hits it repeatedly and you let a out a small moan saying his name “j-johnny” “you like that” he said your orgasm was about to come until he stopped feeling emptiness in your cunt you whine until he takes his fully hard cock out and slightly lifts you up and starts pulling you down until he’s fully in you, you moan from this earning a few stares until Johnny pinched you to be quiet and take his cock

He starts off slow until a random group got in with you guys so Johnny pulls out of and you whimper “get up and follow me upstairs” you follow his orders and you guy make up stairs it was a little more quiet than downstairs and outside Johnny pushes you on the bed and takes off his swimming trunks quickly and throw them behind him he takes your bottom of and throws it on the floor, he pushes himself inside you he grunts your name when he was fully inside “y-y/n” he was trying his best not to cum right there and then he’s been inside you multiple times and you were still so tight, he starts at a slow pace then speeds up his pace “j-johnny fuck me!” You cry out you can feel your orgasm approaching, you start clenching around him until “f-fuck y/n” he says he’s almost there too but he wanted you to cum first he starts speeding up his pace more and your orgasm finally comes and you cum over his cock he’s still going until he reaches his high and cums in you

He pulls out of you and goes to his bathroom to clean you up after your clean, he goes to take a shower the party ended 2 hours ago you got a message from haechan “HURRY UP” you texted him that you were with Johnny and was going stay the night after he got out the shower he laid next to you and while you were drifting off to sleep

“ I love you Johnny” you mumbled he chuckled under his breath “I love you too y/n” “promise me we will be together forever and call me baby like before

By: kpopcafeeee

[cloudsmateria]

leon kennedy x reader / college au

summary: you and your best friend leon had gone off to university, too busy to see each other for the longest time you'd both been away. you eventually find the time to meet up, getting drunk and acting on some building up feelings :3

warnings: start of a smut, alcohol, not proof read idk its kind of a shit ramble that i didn't put much cohesive effort into but it's quite cute so i posted it

anyway, i’ll probably do the smut in p2

words: 2.7k

It had been a month since you last saw Leon. Ever since you started law school, and he got into his cop training program both of your schedules had been stacked, despite you both still living in the same city the 45-minute commute to each other's homes was too much. As your best friend, you both managed to call each other every other night, confiding about whatever stupid experiences you both had in your new lives.

Tonight, you finally were able to agree on him coming to your apartment tonight, as you finally managed to get all work out of the way to have a fully free weekend off. You didn't realise how excited you were for his arrival until he texted you he was at the door. You sprinted through the halls and threw the door open.

"Leon!" You shout, jumping onto him and wrapping your arms around him.

"Y/n." He smiled, hugging you back.

“I haven’t seen you in way too long.” 

“We saw each other on Facetime last night.” You finally pull away with a smile. 

“You won’t even let me have a moment to be sweet.”

“It weirds me out, you're impossible to take seriously.” He rolls his eyes in response as he walks into your apartment, falling onto your couch, you sit next to him, kicking your legs up and leaning your head against his shoulder. “Did you wanna order takeout?”

“I wanted to go out. Haven’t left my apartment to explore the city since I joined the training academy. But we’ll just stay in here for a few minutes, catch me up, then we can go outside and do dumb shit.”

“Catch you up on what?” You laughed. “You’ve been my virtual therapist for the past month. Let’s talk about you. Show me what you learnt in your training or something, entertain me.”

“You’re right, you’ve talked too much, your voice gives me a headache.” You slap his chest and he lets out a light laugh, grabbing your wrists and pulling you over him to lay on his chest. “Get comfortable first, it’s long.”

“Doubt it.”

“You have it easy. This training is just as physically draining as it is mentally.”

“It shows. You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you.” You say, tracing your finger up his arm that has noticeably grown in size, and he’s already been going gym since he was 15.

He laughs. “You must've missed me bad, I’ve never seen you this nice.”

“What’s the training like?”

“I’m at the top of the class right now but the coaches are fucking evil, 4 people have already left.” He rambles on about the jarring people he’s met and the few friends that he’s made until the story is over and he gets up regretfully as he loses the weight of your body on top of him. You go into your room to change as you are still in pyjamas, getting into a skirt with a baggy sweater you wore a little too much.

“Is that my jumper?” Leon asked as you walked out. “Is it? I've had it for ages." He steps closer and snorts when he gets a closer look, flipping the back to see the label.

"You stole this from me last year."

"You mean I borrowed it indefinitely."

"I could arrest you."

"I'd like to see you try your best, trainee. It looks better on me anyway, finders keepers."

"What if I took it back off you?"

"You'd have to catch me first."

"I'm pretty fast."

"Not as fast as me." You grin before pushing him and sprinting out of your apartment, the sound of his footsteps trailing behind you.

"You think you can lose me?!" He taunted.

"I've done it before!" You shout back, running down the stairs of the apartment complex, and out into the streets, almost losing your breath from how much you were laughing. Suddenly, he sped up to an ungodly speed, picking you up when he caught up and throwing you over his shoulder. "Oh my god! What do they feed you in training?!" You yell, slapping his back.

"Mostly protein." He says, sarcastically.

"Are you gonna put me down or carry me around the city like a caveman?"

"I’ll drop you."

"Don't even joke about that." He laughs.

"Fine, fine, I won't." He puts you down and you both start walking around the city, looking for a corner store to get into.

"Let’s get wasted." You say, pointing to a small corner store.

"You’re so irresponsible." He said, going into the store and coming back out with soda and a bottle of vodka, he popped it open instantly when he came out, taking in a mouthful without wincing, passing it over to you straight after as you both walked down the street.

"I found this nice spot, it's 5 minutes from here."

"You didn't tell me about this when we were on Facetime."

"I was hoping to show you in person, I haven't told anyone else about it." You say, taking a mouthful of the burning liquid, coughing slightly, and passing it back over.

"Well, lead the way."

After a few minutes, you were standing on the roof of an abandoned, bordered car park with a pretty view of the river that ran through the city. You already had a wooden bench up there that you took as someone left it on the side of the road.

"How did you find this?" Leon asks.

"I just went on a walk one day and saw the entrance was bordered up and decided to explore, no-one ever comes up here." You said, leaning against the rails. "How much have we drank?"

"About a quarter of the bottle. Do you want more?" He asked.

"Yeah." He passes it over to you. "Do you remember the time we broke into that abandoned hospital near our high school?"

"And you freaked out when you thought that fake skeleton was real.."

"You're never gonna let that go are you?"

"We had to climb out of the window and I had to catch you before you fell to your death. Of course, I'm not going to let it go, you owe me."

"What do you want then? A drink?”

"I can pay for my own drinks and I just paid for yours." He said signalling to the bottle in your hand.

"You get to continue to enjoy my lovely company, that's all I owe you."

"Good enough." He sighed, taking a swig. The both of you sit around, both of you talking each other's ears off until he makes a suggestion.

"We should play a game."

"What's the game?"

"Truth or dare."

"Yes! I don't remember the last time we played this. Truth."

"Any crushes yet?"

"Honestly, not really. There are some cute guys in my uni but I'm just too busy with work. Truth or Dare."

"Dare."

"I dare you to finish the bottle."

"No problem." He said, finishing the bottle, and dropping it on the ground. You laughed at him, knowing he's going to be out of his mind later.

“You’ve been going to too many parties.” You say, watching in astonishment. “This is definitely some pretence for a future alcohol problem.”

“You’re gonna be the reason for my future alcoholism.”

“To be fair you are the type to become an alcoholic over a girl.”

“You’re that girl. You’re the most annoying thing in my life and I can’t get rid of you.” 

You hit his arm.

“You hit me too. Can’t get worse.” You roll your eyes with a smile.

“Seriously, you got anything going on with any girls?” You ask, feeling a bit of tension rise. He gives you a knowing grin. “Because I love gossip, don’t get any ideas.”

“Yeah, her name is Sienna. Funny girl, might ask her out soon.” You nod, questionably annoyed. “I’m joking. God. You look like you’ve seen a ghost, got something you wanna tell me?”

“The alcohol is just hitting.” You say. “Don’t get so full of yourself. You know I wouldn’t get with you if you were the last man on earth.”

“Yeah, right.” He smiles amusedly, a plan in mind. “Truth or dare, y/n?”

"Dare."

"Kiss me." Your heart stops.

"I'm not kissing you."

"You have to."

“Do I?”

“Never took you for a girl who’d pussy out on a dare.”

You sigh.

"You have some sick satisfaction out of tormenting me." You say, standing up and straddling his thighs. Fuck. You can feel the thick muscles of his shoulders as you rest your hands upon them. 

"You have no idea." You stare at him with a small frown.

"You're so lucky I'm drunk." You lean in slowly, feeling his fingers trace over your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. You're just a few centimetres away from his lips, your lips parting, your heart thumping, his gaze dropping down to your lips. Suddenly, you hear him quietly laugh as you start to close your eyes.

"I'm not actually going to kiss you." He says.

"What?"

"You don't have to kiss me, it was a joke."

"Oh god." You sigh, faceplanting into his shoulder.

"You're so cute." He snorts, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I think you’re the one who’s gonna make me an alcoholic." You mumble. 

“Come on, let’s go back to your apartment before you jump off the railings.” He says, letting you get off.

"You're evil." You say once you get to the ground.

"And you're so gullible. How is someone supposed to not take advantage of that?"

"Now you’re showing your true colours, you’re going to regret saying that." You say as menacing as you can, before tripping up from how tipsy you were, just for him to grab the back of your sweater to keep you upright.

"Keep threatening me, I love it."

“Freaky bastard.”

“You have no idea.” He says, grabbing your hand to speed you up for you to trip again, he laughs as you manage to catch yourself. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“No thanks.”

“Too bad because I want to get back in a timely manner.” He says, wrapping his arm around the back of your knees and carrying you off. You weren’t going to complain. 

“Are you not drunk?”

“I’m drunk. I just have more spatial awareness than you.” He carries you the quick 5 minutes to your house. Managing to walk all the way up the stairs with you still in his arms, his stamina was kind of hot, or maybe those were just drunk thoughts. 

He sets you down on your couch, getting you both a glass of water to put on your side table. 

"I didn’t say this but I took some judo classes." You say, just letting whatever dumb shit stumble out your mouth as you take a sip from the glass.

"Did you now?" He says sarcastically.

"We should spar."

"You never fail to surprise me with your stupid ideas." He says while watching you get up. "Are you that confident?"

"You're scared, that's why you're trying to chicken out." He pushes himself up off the couch.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” He says, watching you hype yourself up, jumping up and down.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Come at me then.” He said, fully intending to go easy on you. You quickly try to tackle him onto the floor, wrapping your leg around him to drop him, and to his shock he falls onto his back, leaving him groaning and rubbing his back. “I didn’t think you were being serious.”

“Fuck yeah! Told you you’d regret it!” You shout, jumping up, he grabs your leg and pulls it down making you fall over him, rolling over so that you were pinned down by your wrists.

“How cute, Leon.” You smile, tucking feet underneath him onto his chest and launching off you and getting up. You usually weren’t this successful given you’d only gone to 2 classes, the drunkenness definitely provided you some much-needed confidence. He laughs breathlessly from the rollercoaster you just put him through, resting on his wrists for a second before standing up with you. 

“You wanted me to show you what I learnt in training right?” He says, as you rub your hands together mischievously. You run toward him, him holding both of your hands when you try to push him, pushing against each other as he swipes both your feet from under you and pins you to the floor, his shins pressing on your thighs to make sure you don’t pull the same trick again. Both of you are still breathing heavily from the high of the last round. 

 "You should give up now." He whispers, lacing his fingers in between your own.

"You should know better." You whisper back, smiling. His eyes drop down to your lips, his head fogged as the alcohol in his system starts to kick in more.

"What if I don't?" He leans in, brushing his lips over yours, your stomach fluttering, you were so glad you were drunk. You never would've come up with this idea if you were sober.

"What are you doing, Leon?" 

"Beating you up.”

"You're drunk."

"So are you." He replies, connecting your lips. The kiss is slow and soft. Not how you expected a drunk make-out to be. His lips part and your tongue meet his, the both of you letting out quiet sounds as the kiss gets more heated, his body weight shifting down. His arms wrap around your waist, under your jumper as he stands up with your legs wrapped around him. "We shouldn't be making out on the living room floor." He says and presses his lips against yours again. You were already a little light-headed from the alcohol, his lips trailing down your jawline, your neck, the soft breaths of his breath against your skin, it was almost dizzying. His foot pushes your bedroom door open and he places you down on the bed his lips still all over and his fingers lifting the jumper over your head. He trails his fingers over the waistband of your skirt.

"How much did you miss me?" He breathes against your lips.

"More than anything."

"How much did you miss me, Leon?"

“I was going insane." He whispers, his fingers slipping into your underwear, sliding them off and throwing them across the room. He sits up, taking his shirt off.

"Now that's just the alcohol talking."

"It's not, the time away made me realise something I should've ages ago." He said, leaning back over and kissing you. His hand trailed back down under your skirt, a finger gliding over your slit, a soft moan coming from his lips.

[cyncerity]

Hero au time!!

This is an idea i’ve had in my head forever, which is why it’s so fucking long. Hope y’all enjoy!

tw: soft, safe vore

“We know you have him. You’re not leaving here until you either tell us where he is or your friends fess up and tell us for you. And if we find his body before you can admit to anything, we kill you. Simple as that.”

The voice came from behind him, the ornate table in front of him empty and shrouded in shadows. Sapnap shifted uncomfortably in the chair he was tied to, the ropes rubbing uncomfortably against his now bare wrists. He saw his gloves laid on that table in front of him, now replaced with power suppressant cuffs. Great, so whoever took him wasn’t stupid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’d better let me go this instant. It’s a federal crime to hold a hero hostage.”

“Oh we know, Mr. number 2 hero. But I think you’ll find that we’re wanted for worse.” The voice said before a shadowy figure finally stepped into his line of sight.

The man was fairly average in height and build, but that wasn’t what made him intimidating. No, the glistening black wings longer than he was tall and deadly sharp talons that reflected in the dim torchlight made him quite fearsome looking all on their own. Azrael. The top villain of the greater smp and leader of a group called the Syndicate, an organization of some of the most feared villains in the public eye. The villain glared at Sapnap, icy blue eyes visible behind the crow skull he wore. “You have something that belongs to us.”

“You’re mistaken, unfortunately. Anything I have that I took from you was rightfully someone else’s to begin with. I have no quarrel with you outside of the battlefield.” Sapnap said, doing his best to maintain his professional anti-conflict hero tone that he’d been trained to use. The villain loomed over him, the eye contact prolonged and uncomfortable. Sapnap knew that he was trying to read for any expression, but they were at a standstill. Perks of having blank white eyes in this more humanoid form that the hero agency requested he take during missions (as to not scare the kids or something) meant that he was hard to read. He mentally thanked his dad for picking up that trait, as even though his father was kind, Bad was fucking terrifying.

“Liar.” Was all the villain said before more people came into his view. Not all the members of the syndicate were here, Sapnap noted, but the recognizable ones were Phase, a villain who could teleport, Thunder, a villain with a pretty self explanatory power, and Metis, a villainess who could read people’s feelings and the basic gist of thoughts and just also happened to have deadly aim with a dagger. He took a few moments to wonder where Azrael’s right hand man Blood God or presumed son Psychosis were before remembering they’d both been missing in action for a few months now. Ignoring the few other hooded figures and some minor villains, the only person who Sapnap was actually surprised to see was Brutus, a [seemingly] young new vigilante on the scene who’d made a habit of specifically targeting Azrael in fights and running from everyone else, heroes included. Everyone seemed oddly chill with him being there, in fact everyone seemed to be going out of their way to look any direction other than his.

“Where are the rest of you.” Sapnap asked, more a demand than a question. He could almost hear Azrael’s smile in his response. “Observant, aren’t we, Blaze? Well, the rest of us are going to be taking care of your little friends. I’ll call them off if we get what we want out of you, but if not, we’ll have to get answers from Dream and Nightcap. It likely won’t be hard with your life on the line. As for right now, though, they haven’t noticed your absence. So let’s make this easy; you give us what we want, and you’ll be free to return home before they even notice you’re gone! Everyone wins, really.”

“For the last fucking time I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sapnap sneered. Azrael looked like he was going to respond, but Metis suddenly spoke up. “He’s telling the truth. He really doesn’t know what we want, he’s just that stupid.” “Hey!” “Fine,” Azrael sighed. “Phase, his bag, please.” At that, Sapnap paused. What could they possibly want from his bag? It was just a bunch of his hero junk and-

Oh. Oh fuck.

Metis noticed his falter immediately. “He’s afraid.” She announced, turning her attention to Azrael who looked back at Sapnap with a glare in his eye that could kill a man weaker than a professionally trained hero. “So you do know what we want then.” He said, pulling something out of the bag. Red sunglasses. Round, gold rimmed thick bright red sunglasses. “If you’re so innocent, tell me, Blaze, how you got these? Or better yet, the rest of it?” Azrael spat, shoving his bag over on the table and knocking the contents everywhere. A red button up, gold corset, black and red pinstripe dress pants and red heeled leather shoes. A black dress coat with an insignia on the back, a red star encompassed by a horizontal diamond. A logo that had haunted the hero agency for years. The symbol of a gang with a leader so evil and cunning that he’d not only evaded capture, but evaded any forward malpractice in his casino so no one could legally shut it down. Sure everyone knew a villain ran the casino as a front for crime, but legally, there was no evidence, so it became a hub of drugs, violence, and information. A villain who’d been active before even Sapnap, Dream, and George became heroes.

Oberon. Casino owner, leader of the Las Nevadas gang, spreader of illegal information to whatever party was willing to pay him. Supervillain.

And all of his costume had just fallen out of Sapnap’s hero bag.

“Speechless? I thought you’d take pride in having caught one of the biggest criminals in the city.” Azrael droned. Sapnap stared, unblinking, willing his face not to move despite the mask that covered the lower half of it. “Anyway, we will be needing him back. He’s useful to us, after all.” Sapnap stayed silent, and he could tell it was aggravating Azrael. Metis stepped closer to him, a dagger held at his throat as the Lynx mask she wore drew closer to his face. “He’s terrified. I can’t tell of what exactly, but it’s not us.”

Azrael hummed, not making a move. Sapnap didn’t dare flinch. No, he wasn’t scared. Not of the Syndicate, not of the knife at his throat, not of being kidnapped. He was a hero, shit like this happened.

No, he was terrified because he knew exactly where Oberon was, and he couldn’t get out of this situation.

Sapnap was something of a hybrid. His dad was a demon, his surrogate mom was a human, Skeppy was Skeppy and no one quite knew what he was. But Sapnap was a demon hybrid, a fire demon hybrid to be exact, which didn’t fair well normally. He remembered being beaten up for his horns in school, having his tailed yanked on the street, having people point and laugh at his fangs in cafes. He learned he could hide his hybrid traits. It made things easier. He passed as human almost completely, save for the white eyes and pointed ears. That’s how he was as a hero. Blaze, to the public, was a human with some odd hybrid-esc traits, and that was that.

To his friends and family, he was Sapnap, a fire demon. To his parents, big brother, best friend, and fiancés, he didn’t have to hide. They knew all the weird shit that being a demon came with, one fiancé especially.

Quackity, in Sapnap’s eyes, was perfect. They grew up as neighbors and became instant friends, with Quackity even announcing in the 3rd grade that he was marrying Sapnap and no one was gonna steal him. In high school, after much deliberation, he conceded that he would back down a little bit and share with Karl. As adults, they’ve been planning their wedding for years now. Quackity was funny, optimistic, and kindhearted; the perfect future husband.

Who also happened to be a supervillain on the side.

Sapnap knew. Of course he knew, he’d been one of the first people Quackity told when he first started and couldn’t keep all his secrets and stay sane. But Sapnap became a hero, following his big brother into the field because that’s what he always did. He followed Dream, as did George. Eventually, Karl followed, too. Quackity knew. The first time Quackity walked up to the new heroes on the battlefield as Oberon, he wiped the floor with them. No real damage done, but he knocked out 4 new heroes in one fight solo, and that made him a significantly more threatening and famous villain to the public.

From Sapnap’s perspective, he didn’t want to fight his fiancé and as he was later told from his fiancés perspective, Quackity just wanted the fight over with as quickly as possible. 3 out of 4 heroes pulled their punches while Quackity fought hard. It was an easy match, in the end.

Karl knew who Oberon was too, since “you can’t keep a secret like that for long when you’re so intimately in love with a person that you could identify them by the way they flick their wrist” (and was swiftly punched for by both fiancés for being too sappy). George guessed it immediately. It took the three fiancés a while to stop trying to convince him that Quackity was a regular civilian when George wouldn’t back off that he knew. Dream…well, they’d tell him eventually. Probably.

Point is, Quackiy is awesome and the love of Sapnap’s life, whether or not he’s a supervillain. And as the love of Sapnap’s life who also happens to have shapeshifting superpowers, he volunteers to do some things to help his demon instincts that Sapnap really appreciates. As the only two hybrids of the polycule, they help each other out. Sapnap preens Quackity’s wings, helps him nest, and makes sure he’s warm for the winter while Quackity…well, Quackity lets Sapnap eat him.

Sapnap has been called names before. “freak,” “hellspawn,” he’s used to that, but every so often he’ll hear “maneater” called in his direction and wonder if the person calling him that knows how close they really are. See, while demons have a bad rep for plenty of made up things like stealing souls or cursing people, the rumor that demons kill and eat people is only half wrong. No demon would grab someone off of the street and eat them alive, but a person who the demon cares about immensely and who could fit in their mouth?…yeah, they’d get eaten, but not without proper warning and consent. Demons had crops for a reason (albeit an unknown one, far too evolved in this modern society that the original use for it has been lost to time), and that reason was to store things the demon cared about. There was a reason Bad, at over 9 feet tall, had married a man who could shrink to 2 feet. Sapnap had instincts to store plenty of things: items from his childhood, his fish (he wouldn’t), his friends (he physically can’t but damn if his instincts aren’t stupid), and of course his fiancés. He’d just happened to win the lottery and fall in love with a man able (and more importantly willing) to be stored. Quackity, as an avian, knew the instinct cause he had a crop too, and was more than willing to help Sapnap when he needed it (he occasionally wondered how Quackity dealt with it considering he and Karl couldn’t shrink, but Q always said “a friend” or “work associate” helped him out, so really it wasn’t Sapnap’s business).

Today, Sapnap’s shift had sucked and Karl was stuck at the tower for the rest of the night doing paperwork. So as he often did, Sapnap called Quackity and asked if he would “sleep in” that night. Quackity, as he often did, said yes. Sapnap went down to Las Nevadas and was passed into the casino with no hassle, the worker’s shock of seeing a top three hero walk into a villain lair long worn off. He made it to the office and there sat Oberon. Average height, long wild black hair, and a massive gash that took up almost the whole left side of his face that left his eye milky and showed a golden fang behind his split lip. The expression he wore was always mischievous and hard to read, a poker face that he’d bet not even Metis could get past.

It all fell apart when he saw Sapnap.

His expression melted into joy, the cunning and somewhat frightening look dissipating as he waved slightly. The man shrank to below average height, his hair becoming much shorter and showing feathered ears for a split second before a beanie was hastily thrown over them. The scar closed itself until only a thin pale puckered line showed where the scar had once been, though his eye remained murky. He removed his dress shirt so he was only wearing a tank top and sighed as he let his wings out, stretching out the black and golden feathers. This was Quackity, the man Sapnap fell in love with.

Within a few minutes they were both in pajamas and Sapnap was holding his fiancé in his hands. The only warning Quackity gave was that he had a meeting in the morning so Sapnap would have to let him out early. Sure, he could do that. So carefully, he lifted his hands up to his mouth and slowly tilted his lover in. He felt Quackity melt into the warmth as he slowly raised his own body temperature knowing how much the duck avian liked the heat. He felt feathers press into the walls of his mouth as Quackity stretched his wings and then shapeshifted them away again to get down easier without leaving feathers in his fiancés throat. Other perk of marrying a shapeshifter: they can do shit like that. Within moments of Q patting the roof of Sapnap’s mouth, he was being pulled down by the throat muscles, and Sapnap could feel when Quackity landed in his storage because his powers immediately flared.

Being a fire demon was…weird, Sapnap had come to learn. He’d always known his powers were emotion based, he learned that at a young age. Joy and anger sparked the strongest, sadness and fear dimmed him. Simple. Until he stored Quackity for the first time and almost lit his bedroom on fire. Sapnap learned 2 things that day: 1- turns out, as sappy as it sounded, love was way stronger than joy or anger. 2- according to Quackity, his fire, the root of his power and life force as a fire demon, was in his storage. Literally. Quackity told him cause Quackity saw it. Physically. A glowing orb of fire that just permanently existed in Sapnap’s storage. Quackity also decided touching it would be a good idea (that’s how the bedroom fiasco happened, but that’s besides the point). Point is, when that love he has for his fiancé is combined with the primal demon instinct to store and protect, Sapnap can become an absolute powerhouse of destruction. Higher endurance, stronger, faster, even his flames were hotter. The rest of the heroes called it Hellfire. Quackity agreed it was fitting.

Which meant that when he got an emergency call that a supervillain was on the loose and he was needed immediately, he knew he’d get it over with quickly. He felt Quackity pull his wings back out and push them against the walls surrounding him, a sign that he was good for Sapnap to go do his job. So, that’s what he did, knowing it wouldn’t take long with his hellfire active.

He was right, of course. It was less than an hour before the criminal was in custody, unable to escape past the walls of fire Sapnap put up. He was home only an hour after than, drained of energy and barely able to stand (Quackity massaging him from inside was definitely not helping). He fell asleep before he even got changed out of his hero gear.

Looking back, he realized neither of them had remembered that there was anything important the next day.

Sapnap geared up to do hero work the next day at around noon, packing up Quackity’s villain costume in his bag so he could let his fiancé out later and he could get back to work. He told his higher ups that he was going to patrol around Las Nevadas, which wasn’t suspicious cause of the absurd amount of gang activity that needed dealt with. Quackity, meanwhile, was still asleep, and likely would be till Sapnap returned him to his office and he had to be Oberon again.

Then he was grabbed from behind.

In a split second, he was in a dark alleyway he hadn’t been in a moment before, and there was something swung at his head rapidly before it all went black.

And now he was here. Tied to a chair with a power suppresent cuff, surrounded by supervillains, with his supervillain fiancé in his storage.

Sapnap was speechless, for maybe the first time in his life. He..he couldn’t deny this. There was no way he could plead innocent to having every single piece of Oberon’s costume in his bag. Half the syndicate was glaring down at him, the other half was staged to fight his friends, and the one thing they wanted was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t give up.

“How…how did you know it was me?” “We have a tracker in his costume.” Metis answered simply. “Oberon has never missed a meeting. We have trackers in all Syndicate member’s costumes, just for cases like this. When he didn’t show, we tracked it and it just so happened to lead us right to your stuff. Never imagined a hero would stoop so low as to kidnap someone rather than arrest them.” “I wouldn’t.” he growled. “Are you seriously trying to argue with us right now?” Brutus spoke up for the first time in the conversation. “You have all of Oberon’s missing stuff, you’re getting really defensive, and you’re a hero for fucks sake! Who else would have taken him? Now give us our friend back or else.”

“Pardon, ‘friend?’” Sapnap questioned, momentarily caught off guard. Sure, he knew Quackity worked with the Syndicate, but were they his friends? Did he enjoy their company, or know them on a first name basis? “Yes, friend, dickhead. Villains can have friends too, y’know.” “I know, I just…I don’t know, assumed it was more of a business relationship?” Sapnap questioned, Brutus going to answer before Azrael pushed him back. “Our relationship with Oberon is none of your business, hero. Now tell us where he is.” Oh it very much was his business, but Sapnap wasn’t going to mention that right now.

“…no.” “Ex-fucking-cuse me??” Azrael gawked, momentarily dropping his mask as a terrifying supervillain to just be plain confused. “I said no.” Sapnap said as calmly as he could given that there was still a dagger at his neck. “I can’t tell you where he is, all I can tell you is that he’s safe and I sure as hell didn’t kidnap him.” Azrael’s supervillain mask of annoyance was slipped back on as he glared at Sapnap. “You expect us to believe that, Blaze? You expect us to blindly trust a pro hero?” Azrael scowled. “Exactly, i’m a hero. I wouldn’t hurt someone with no reason, even a villain. I wouldn’t hurt Oberon.” Sapnap pleaded, and from what little he could see of Brutus and Metis’ faces, he thought they might have believed him. Phase and Thunder stood stock still, masks fully covering their faces so Sapnap had no idea what they were thinking. Azrael, however, looked angry. He looked so fucking angry.

“We’re getting nowhere, we don’t have time for this! Oberon could be dead, I can’t trust a word out of your mouth.” He shouted, pushing Metis’s dagger out of the way and grabbing Sapnap by the hair, yanking his head up to look him in the eye. “This isn’t a request anymore. You’re going to tell me where he is right-“ Azrael reeled his arm back, and Sapnap only had a few moments to realize what he was going to do “-fucking-“ oh no “-now!” Azrael punched Sapnap in the stomach hard, knocking the wind out of him.

Sapnap screamed.

He curled in on himself and gasped for air, crying and screaming. It was all he could think to do in his panic. He couldn’t even bring himself to think of words to say, could only shout and cry and hope that Azrael would leave him alone. He saw the winged man jump back in shock, along with the rest of the villains. He doubted they’d thought that when they captured a superhero they’d end up watching said superhero sob, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wrapped his arms around himself, desperately trying to feel for any sign that Quackity was alright, only to realize that this was the first time in hours he’d moved his arms.

He looked down through the tears in his eyes and realized he wasn’t tied to the chair anymore. The ropes that had been tied around him were now strewn on the ground; singed, tattered, and smoking. The power suppressents lay on the ground with the ropes, sparking and useless. Holy shit, did he just break the power suppressents??

Sapnap’s thoughts were cut off when he felt and heard something from in his storage. He felt Quackity grow heavier, likely shifting just a little bit bigger, and he could feel him pressing into the walls. “What the fuck?” Quackity asked groggily, Sapnap feeling him stretch out. “Ow, fuck, what the fuck was that, Sap??” Lots of thoughts ran through Sapnap’s head, his instincts flaring and clouding his thoughts. Was Quackity ok? He was conscious thank god, but he said ow, how badly was he hurt? Quackity was supposed to be safe when he was with Sapnap, but he wasn’t safe, how could he keep his fiancé safe? “Blaze?” Who? “Blaze, you with us?” Not Quackity, Quackity would have called him by his name. He looks up and sees Brutus standing over him, most of the villains having taken a step back, including Azrael, surprisingly. “You feeling better?” “…please don’t hit me again.” Sapnap pleaded quietly through a sore throat. “What the fuck does that mean? Sapnap what the fuck?? Are you safe, where are you!?” Quackity shouted, shifting himself smaller so he wouldn’t be as loud. Brutus, oblivious to what Sapnap was hearing, knelt down to be eye level with the hero.

“I won’t. Maybe those guys will, but I’m not that kind of guy. I like to think of myself as a hero.” “…I can’t back down on this. I’m not telling you or the Syndicate where Oberon is. That’s final.” He said strongly. “Fucking what?!” Quackity shouted, pushing himself forwards only to fall. “Fuck! Shit, ow…” He trailed off, which almost made Sapnap panic again, but he knew things would only get worse if they knew where Quackity actually was. Brutus was silent for a moment. “Ok,” he said finally. “Then they’ll just keep you here until you do, I guess. But I can stick around to make sure they won’t hit you again, that was uncalled for.” He finished, glaring angrily at Azrael at the end. “Thank you, Brutus.” Sapnap finished, not making any move to stand or move. “Brutus?!” He heard Quackity yell, though he just hoped his fiancé could understand why he wasn’t answering.

Things got quieter after that. Sapnap, despite still being free from his restraints, did nothing to run. What could he do, after all? He was totally outnumbered. And despite Brutus’s promise that he would keep him from getting hurt (again), he knew that if it came down to it, Brutus would fight with the Syndicate, not him. Besides, even if he did get out, the villains would come after him immediately. Or worse, they’d target Dream and George, and Dream did not need to know of his (or literally everyone else’s) ties to the casino villain.

Quackity tried communication. Sapnap could hear him asking questions, begging for any reply to let him know that Sapnap was safe, that they were both safe. But he couldn’t. The villains and Brutus were watching him like a hawk, making sure he wouldn’t run. As if he was that stupid. But in return, he couldn’t comfort his frightened fiancé. Every second he spent listening to Quackity was another second he spent willing tears out of his eyes.

“Ok, ok, so you obviously can’t talk right now. Or hum. Or physically signal. Fuck, how…how can I talk to you?” Quackity pleaded aloud as if Sapnap hadn’t been pondering the exact same thing. He couldn’t speak, tap, hum, or even try to constrict his stomach: he didn’t know how badly crowfather’s punch had hurt him or if constructing the muscles around him would worsen the injury.

Every thought frustrated Sapnap further. It was infuriating.

“That’s it! Sapnap, your flame!” Quackity exclaimed. “It just flickered and got brighter, did you do that on purpose? Can you control it?” Holy shit, right, the power suppressants were off. Sapnap didn’t think he could, he certainly didn’t mean to just then; it must have been his anger that made it flare. But the idea that he could communicate, even one sidedly, with his lover made hope blossom in his chest. “There! You did it again, the flame got bigger!” Quackity excitedly yelled. ‘Ok, we can communicate,’ Sapnap thought, ‘all I have to do is control my emotions.’

“Are you safe? Flicker for yes, do nothing for no.” Sapnap tried very hard to not feel frustrated at the current state of things so he could signal that he was not, in fact, safe. There was a few seconds of silence as Quackity processed this. “…shit. Ok, so not safe.” Yeah no duh, stupid fucking supervillains. He could almost feel his flame flare in his chest at the thought. “Yeah, definitely not safe. The syndicate, you said?” Sapnap looked over Azrael , who was watching him with disinterest. He let his disdain for the man take over his thoughts. His flame sparked. “Ok, fuck, that’s worse.” Quackity said. “Are you hurt?” Jesus fuck the emotional whiplash he was putting himself through for this was gonna take years off his life, Sapnap was sure of it. He tried to reel back the hate, to take deep breaths and calm himself and imagine his flame returning to normal. “Ok, that’s good at least.” Quackity sighed, and in that moment Sapnap wanted nothing more than to ask it back. To beg, to plead that he answer his own question. He heard the pain laced in Quackity’s voice, he wasn’t going to forget the pained yells right after he was hit. He needed to know Quackity was ok.

A door across the room that Sapnap hadn’t even realized was there burst open, startling everyone in the room. “Sorry, Dream and Nightcap got away. We chased them, but they were too quick.” The man who was speaking had dark green hair, a massive gas mask looking face covering, and was big as a motherfucker. This was one of the most well known members of the syndicate, a previous hero called Machina who had quit the committee before the Dream Team was ever even introduced to the public, though he trained them all behind the scenes. Only a few months after his retirement, he showed back up as a villain. Sapnap knew this man well. “Shit,” Azrael cursed. “That’s fine, Warden, we’ll work with it. We just need to let them know we still have Blaze as ranso-“

“Sam!!” Sapnap screamed, pleading to whatever god that would listen that Sam could get him, them out of this. He felt Quackity perk up, dragging himself to the front of the stomach with only minor noises of pain. Sam was his hero mentor and one of his dad’s best friends, basically his uncle. He trusted Sam, and he knew Sam would at least want to do the right thing here. Whether or not he could convince Azrael to let him, though, was a different issue.

“Hm? Blaze!? What the fuck are you doing here, what happened?!” Sam yelled, storming over to Sapnap. Ok, so apparently Azrael hadn’t told him why he was supposed to be attacking Dream and George. “Look at his bag. We haven’t heard from Oberon, and it’s pretty damn clear whose fault that is.” Sapnap couldnt see Sam’s face behind his mask, but he could imagine his expression as he faced the bag and slowly turned his head to stare at Sapnap. It almost would have been comical if not for the situation.

See, Sapnap wasn’t the only one who was close with Sam. Quackity, despite not being a hero, knew the man pretty well himself, given that he was his legal guardian and all. Quackity’s parents abandoned him when he was really young, and Sam, his older cousin, took him in. Sam and Quackity had been pretty inseparable ever since, so he was sure that Sam’s presence made his fiancé feel exponentially better. Given that Sapnap and Quackity had been neighbors growing up, Sam had a lot of time to get accustomed to his ward’s role in Sapnap’s weird demon halfling shit. A role that grew larger when they started dating as teenagers, and Bad had to begrudgingly explain to Sam what a storage was when Quackity didn’t come home on time one night and Sam walked in on Sapnap eating him. That had not been a fun talk, but in hindsight it was better for him to have learned earlier than later.

Sam’s gaze lingered on Sapnap for a while before he flicked his head down just a bit, almost imperceptibly. Sapnap gave a quick abrupt nod in response and saw Sam’s shoulders tense. He knew.

“Are you hurt?” Sam asked, his head tilted down enough to show that his eyes were clearly not trained on Sapnap’s own, but rather his torso. “Yes.” Sapnap answered simply, hoping that if Sam thought one or both of them were injured he could get them out. He knew Quackity was hurt, that was his main priority. Sam sucked a breath in. “Azrael, I’ll handle it from here.” “Warden, I don’t think you-“ “I said,” He turned to the other villain, looming over the man. “I’ll take it from here. I know Blaze from my time as a hero. I know how to get him to crack.” Sam said, walking over to Sapnap and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Sapnap very carefully kept his face stone cold. He needed Azrael to believe Sam would actually torture information out of him. “…if you insist. I suppose you know him best.” “Perfect. I’ll be taking him now then.”

“Now hold on! What?!” “Is there a problem, Azrael?” “Ye-“ “Of course there is!!” Brutus interrupted, shockingly. “You can’t just fuckin’ kill the guy! Y-“ “I won’t hurt him more than necessary. You know I won’t.” Sam said, placing a hand on the boys shoulder who just sighed. “…ok.” “Warden, what are you going to do?” Azrael responded clearly fake calmly. “I’m taking him to a safe house for interrogation. I know his weaknesses, you’ve clearly been going to easy on him if he hasn’t spilled. I’m not letting Oberon get hurt.” Sam said with a tone of finality. And again to Sapnap’s surprise, Azrael stepped down immediately. In the back of his mind he wondered if the syndicate knew how close Sam and Quackity truly were, or if they knew the two were family, but he pushed the thought off. That wasn’t what was important right now.

Sam walked back over to him, pulling his trident and holding it to Sapnap’s neck. “You want to live, you’ll do what I say. Got it?” Sapnap nodded easily, incredibly used to the persona Sam puts on when working (Machina and Warden acted incredibly similar, one was just a lot scarier cause he had a giant fucking trident and was no longer bound by law). He pulled a piece of fabric from his costume and handed it to Brutus, who quickly got the message to tie it around Sapnap’s eyes. Once he was blinded, he felt the cold metal of Sam’s suit gloves grab him by the back of his neck and lead him (hopefully) out of the room. After that, there was no communication between the two of them besides the occasional warning of a step or ledge, but Quackity kept talking. “We’re walking, ok, I can tell we’re walking, that’s good. Sam’s getting us out? Are we safe? Ok I can’t tell if we’re not safe or if you just can’t respo-“

“Sam, are we alone?” Sapnap said, desperate to finally be able to console Quackity. “Yes, but play it safe. I don’t remember where the cameras are.” Sapnap nodded. Ok, better than nothing. Sapnap discreetly rubbed his storage, figuring that would look innocent enough over any potential security footage. Then, with no better option, he started to hum. Sapnap had never been incredibly musically gifted, but he hoped the tune of “Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be Alright” was recognizable enough to be comforting. Not long after, he heard Quackity quietly laugh and sing along with whatever words he knew. He smiled. Eventually, Sam’s hand shifted from grabbing the back of his neck to supporting his back, and he felt the trident be lowered away from his throat and heard the scrape of metal on metal as it was re-holstered. He felt the now empty cold metal glove take his hand and guide him further until eventually he was stopped and the blindfold was removed.

Sapnap stopped humming. He was standing outside a car and Sam was very quickly shoving most of his supervillain gear in it. From the look of the run down city around him, they seemed to be in one of the poorer areas of L’manburg, probably near the Pogtopia district. Something tapped his shoulder, and Sapnap whirled, coming face to face with Sam. Not Machina, not Warden; Sam. His dark green eyes and freckled face looked at him with worry. He’d seen that expression so many times; as a concerned family friend, as a mentor, and Sapnap always hated it. Hated seeing Sam sad. Sapnap couldn’t help the tears that welled in his eyes, couldn’t help pulling the man in for a hug. He would have squeezed him half to death if he wasn’t hyper aware of the weight in his middle who was still hurt. He felt Sam hug him back just as carefully, equally aware of Sapnap’s passenger even though he was unable to feel him. “I’m taking you to my place, let’s get out of here.” Sam whispered, and Sapnap nodded, letting out only a few tears before he got in the passenger seat of Sam’s car and immediately pressed both of his hands to his stomach.

“Quackity holy shit are you ok?!” “Fucking finally!!” Quackity cheered in response, growing larger once again now that he knew he didn’t have to hide before hissing in pain again. “I, uh..could be better, hotstuff. What happened?” Sam sat silently behind the wheel as they drove, though Sapnap saw his ear flick in their direction. He wasn’t sure what the limit of his enhanced creeper hearing was, but he hoped he could hear Quackity cause Sapnap didn’t want to have this conversation twice. “There was a tracker in your costume. We forgot about your stupid fucking meeting so the syndicate tracked your costume and found it in my bag. I was on my way to Las Nevadas to return it to you and let you out for work but I was kidnapped because they thought I kidnapped and de-masked you. Then when I wouldn’t talk Azrael punched me in the stomach, which is what woke you up.” “That…that explains a lot. I was half woken up by getting the shit knocked out of me, but also cause your flame fuckin’ blinded me, dude.” ‘That would make sense,’ Sapnap thought. If he got scared enough that his powers managed to burn off literal power suppressant cuffs, it must have been pretty damn bright. “Azrael fucking what?!” Sam interjected. “Yeah. I’m not hurt too bad, maybe a little bruised, but Q seems to be in bad shape.” Sapnap explained. “No I’m-“ “Yes you are. You sound like you’re in pain, you move like you’re in pain, you’re clearly in pain.”

Quackity sat in silence for a moment before relenting. “…I can’t move my left arm and anytime I move my torso or breathe my chest feels like it’s imploding. I think my shoulder’s popped out of it’s socket and my ribs might be broken.” “Fuck.” Sapnap and Sam said simultaneously, answering Sapnap’s silent question on if Sam could hear Q or not. “Ok, we get back to the house and go straight to Ponk. Quackity, do you think you can handle getting let out?” Sam asked louder than normal so Quackity could hear him. “I…I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t want to be a pussy but…fuck, it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad, Sam. I don’t wanna know how much worse it’ll get if I get compressed.” “You can cut me open, I don’t give a shit.” Sapnap said, deadly serious. “No, absolutely not you psycho.” Quackity said, kicking his stomach.

“I’ve got enough cuts up here, it’d be fine. It’d match.”

“Those are top scars you bitch that’s not-“

“Same difference.”

“Same difference my ass! We’re not cutting me out of your storage.”

“You need medical attention! What if you’re like, bleeding internally or something??”

“You’ll fuckin’ see what internal bleeding’s like if you insist that I get cut out of here one more time Sapnap I swear to god-“

“Boys!” Sam yelled, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. “No one is cutting anyone open! We’ll see what Ponk can do. Worse comes to absolute worst, we’ll wait to see if Q feels better enough to come out tomorrow.” Sam pulled the car into his driveway and stepped out, motioning for Sapnap to follow. He walked in behind Sam, untensing muscles he didn’t even know were tensed upon seeing the familiar rooms and smelling the same lemony citrus scent that had filled the house since his childhood. Safe, he was finally safe.

“Ponk! Get down here, we have a situation!” “What’s up?” He heard yelled from upstairs, then he saw Ponk come into view. A retired hero healer, Sam’s spouse, and Quackity’s step parent who honestly functioned more to him as a cool aunt rather than another caretaker. Sapnap also knew them well. They were well acquainted back when Blaze was new to the Smp, and they’d spent a lot of time getting to know one another given Sapnap’s track record of very very frequent injury. “Q is hurt, but we can’t get him out of Sapnap’s storage. Any ideas?” “Oh fuck, what?” Ponk said, running down the steps. “How bad? What happened? Is he conscious? Is he bleeding? Sam, what are you doing, go get my med bag!” Ponk rambled, and Sam ran to the bathroom and came out seconds later with a first aid kit. They took a stethoscope out and looped it around their neck before Sapnap even had a chance to process half of those questions. “Ok, Sapnap, you’re not the one hurt, correct?” “Correct.” “Ok, then I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off.” Sapnap shrugged and removed his hero gear, and while he was at it, shifted back to his more comfortable and natural half demon form, letting his horns and tail grow back out. “Ok now lay on the couch.” Ponk instructed, leading Sapnap to lay on the couch and pushing a coffee table out of the way so they could kneel next to him. They pressed a hand down in a few areas on Sapnap’s torso before they found Quackity and took off their stethoscope, pressing the cold metal right where they felt the shrunken man.

“Big Q? You doin’ alright in there?” “Good as I can be, Ponk.” Quackity replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awesome.” Ponk replied with equal sass. “Now, this is a bit of an unorthodox check up, but i’m gonna need you to shift bigger if Sapnap can handle it so I can get a better idea of where I’m checking you.” “Im good,” Sapnap replied, “Do what you have to do, Angel.” Sapnap’s breath hitched as he felt Quackity grow larger, laying on his back in the storage and stretching out the walls around him, just on the brink of being uncomfortable for Sapnap but not quite there. Sapnap sucked in his stomach as much as possible to give Ponk more direct contact to Quackity. With Quackity so thoroughly pinned in his storage, he could feel every breath, every twitch, every heartbeat. He nodded at Ponk, who went back to checking up on the shrunken man. “Ok, I’m gonna press where I think your chest is, you’re going to tell me if I’m pressing in the right place and if it hurts.” Ponk placed a hand down and pressed gently, making Sapnap wince as Quackity flinched and shoved at his storage. “Yeah, that’s my chest and it fuckin’ hurts.” “1-10?” “8 or something I don’t know. I’m a supervillain, I get hurt a lot, i’m used to it.” “Ok. I have an idea. I can’t tell if your ribs are broken or if you just have a contusion, but either way it would take too long to heal naturally in there. You need to get out, but getting out would worsen the injuries, so I’m gonna try something.”

Ponk placed both hands right over where they’d deduced Quackity’s chest to be. Then, their hands (er, hand [Sam was never going to stop apologizing for that, despite it being a workplace accident that Ponk had long forgiven him for]) began to heat up. Sapnap was very used to seeing Ponk use their powers, having had them used on himself many times, but what Ponk was trying to do now was not only fascinating to watch, but logically also impossible. They were trying to heal Quackity through Sapnap’s skin. Ponk’s eyes squeezed shut tight as they bit their bottom lip almost to the point of blood in frustration, focusing all their energy on their power. “Ponk?” Quackity asked, before gasping. “Holy shit…” and Sapnap knew what that meant. “Ponk, it’s working, keep going.” Sapnap pleaded breathlessly, because he can tell it is. He hears Sam gasp as well from his place watching behind the sofa. He can only feel minimal amounts of Ponk’s power on his own skin, the minor bruising left behind by Azrael’s punch dissipating under their power. He looks down at himself and sees Quackity glow with the affects of Ponk’s power on him, the healing light illuminating through Sapnap’s storage. It was mesmerizing.

Eventually Ponk lifts their hands off Sapnap’s torso and sighs. Sam runs and quickly returns with water, which Ponk accepts graciously. Sapnap sits up, placing a light hand over Quackity. “Angel? Are you alright??” “I- I can’t believe that worked. What the fuck.” Sapnap just laughed, curling both arms around himself and hanging his head down, crying out of sheer relief after the incredibly fucking stressful evening he’d had. “Oh my fuck, thank god. Thank fucking god.” “He’s ok?” Sam asks, hands on Ponk’s shoulders supporting his partner. “Yes. He’s ok.” Sam sighed dramatically and rested his head on Ponk’s shoulder who just laughed and placed their hand on Sam’s head. “That didn’t take nearly as much out of me as I thought it would. Bone healing normally is a lot more tiring, so i’m gonna guess that it was just a shoulder injury and contusion in your chest, no actual broken ribs. Still, though, neither of those injuries would have done well under intense pressure. I’m glad healing it worked from out here.” Ponk explained. “Yeah we can figure out how the fuck you did that later.” Sapnap said, standing and stretching his arms above him, feeling his shoulders pop and hearing Quackity yelp as he got constricted in the surrounding muscles at his still bigger-than-average size. He was kind of glad Sam and Ponk were distracted with each other since he was sure that Quackity’s outline in his stomach was incredibly visible at the moment.

Sapnap patted his stomach and felt Quackity pat back. “Ok, as much as I love having you this close and all, cause I do, it has been almost 24 straight hours. You ready to come out now?” “Fuck yes, i’m raiding Sam’s fridge.” Sapnap laughed and pressed under where he felt Quackity, feeling weight dissipate as his fiancé shrunk to a size that Sapnap could manage to bring back up and hid his wings away. It was only a few more seconds before Quackity was traveling up Sapnap’s throat and ended up back in his mouth. Sapnap paused for just a few moments to suck the remaining spit off his fiancé and savor his flavor just a bit longer. Quackity lightly kicked Sapnap’s teeth, though Sapnap could feel the vibrations of laughter against his cheeks until he eventually relented and pulled the man out of his mouth, holding him gently in his palms. “Couldn’t help myself, darlin’, you taste as good as ever.” Sapnap purred, the shrunken man turning red in response. “Christ Sapnap, don’t do this to me so soon after I get out. Give me like an hour of grace before you make me want to go back in, you know I can’t say no to a pretty boy like you.” Quackity smiled back, a smirk pulling at his scarred lips as he gently traced his finger along the palms he sat in. Sapnap flustered; no matter the size or situation, he knew he’d always lose these word games with Quackity.

He loved him so goddamn much.

Quackity was quickly pulled from Sapnap’s hands by a very relieved and stressed Sam, who held the shrunken man to his cheek tightly. “Quackity oh thank fuck, I was so worried when I figured out where you were I assumed the worst at first when Azrael said-“ “Sam, I’m fine!” Quackity comforted, pushing himself away from Sam’s cheek to make eye contact with his pseudo-brother. “I’m alright, thanks to you. You got us out of there, thank you. I mean, talk about a literal Deus Ex Mach-“ “Quackity if you finish that joke I’ll fucking eat you.” Sam sighed, no actual heat behind his words. Quackity just laughed. “And Ponk, thank you. I don’t know how you did that, but thank you.” “No problem. My powers are less based on contact and more if I can get a clear visual of the person I have to heal and what injuries they have. It apparently works just as well if I can picture them in my head, which was pretty easy given I’ve known you almost your whole life.” “That’s fuckin’ sick.” Quackity nodded. “Now Sam, hand me back to Sapnap, he’s a human furnace and it’s really cold out here covered in spit.” Sam passed Quackity off to Sapnap who held him reverently as Quackity melted into the warmth the fire demon provided, pulling his wings back out as he curled against Sapnap’s fingers. “Would you mind grabbing food, too? I don’t think he’s eaten in like a day and a half.” Sapnap asked, and Sam and Ponk nodded before heading to their kitchen.

Sapnap took his bandana off and offered it to Quackity, who took it and began wiping himself down. Sapnap gently sat Quackity down on his lap. “I’m sorry about all of this.” He sighed, and Quackity gave him a confused look. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do shit. Believe me, I’ll be sure to put Azrael through the wringer next time I see him for this whole situation. But everything turned out alright, didn’t it? I’ll bet you anything that this won’t even be the most stressful fiasco this week.” Sapnap groaned. “I hate that you’re right. Why the fuck did I pick this job.” “Beats me, hero boy.” Quackity shrugged, done drying himself off. “But we survived our life-threatening mission of the day, you know what that means?” “What does that mean, hun?” Before he could blink, Quackity was back to normal size, sitting horizontally on his lap and looping the bandana behind Sapnap’s head, pulling it forward to kiss him. Sapnap was taken aback for all of 3 seconds before he slipped his arms behind Quackity and under his knees and held him closer to his chest, not breaking the kiss for a moment. He wasn’t lying before, Quackity did taste incredible. Quackity in turn dropped his hold of the bandana, instead electing to loop his arms around Sapnap’s neck and ensnare his hands in his fiancés hair and around his jawline for a tighter hold. It was messy; too long and somewhat violent (listen, they both had sharp teeth, blood was bound to be drawn) and not quite right with Quackity’s scar and golden tooth and Sapnap’s demon fangs. They were both smiling like idiots, too caught up in the joy of just being there kissing the other to worry about if they were kissing right.

It was perfect.

“I love you.” Quackity whispered, and Sapnap took note because it was rare that Quackity ever spoke outright like this. His lover was always more for gifts or quality time than words, though flirting was his exception. Words were more Karl’s thing, actions were Sapnap’s. But Quackity almost never directly said what was on his mind. “I was scared tonight.” Quackity continued quietly. “I’m not used to being scared for you. I know you’re a hero, and I know you can handle yourself, but my…’work associates’ can be vicious. I couldn’t hear them, you couldn’t speak. I sat for so long just begging you’d get out safely. I couldn’t do anything to protect you. I felt…well, small. I don’t ever want to be afraid of losing you ever again. I love you too much for that.” Sapnap pressed gentle kisses to his fiancés hairline, wiping the slow tears that fell from his eyes. “If I could help it, you’d never fear for me again. I’d set the world ablaze before I’d ever want to see you scared.” “Jesus Christ you sound like Karl.” Quackity sniffled, chuckling.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be a safe space for you.” Sapnap sighed. His storage was supposed to be a place where Quackity could feel protected, and now it had made him feel anything but. His instincts were in a fucking mess about it. “You’ll always be a safe space for me, baby.” Quackity answered, leaning his head against Sapnap’s shoulder. “I’ll always feel safer within you than anywhere else. I was scared for you, that’s all. I got you into that, and I couldn’t help you.” “You just being there helped more than you know. I hate that you got hurt, I hate that I couldn’t stop it, but…well, even if it’s selfish, I’m glad I wasn’t going through it alone.” Quackity smiled at him, an adoring look in his eyes before he laughed. “Aw, tsk tsk, selfishness is no trait befitting a hero. Maybe you should just quit and join my gang.” He grinned evily. “Ooooo, maybe some other time, but as of right now I rather enjoy upholding the law, Oberon.” “Ew, yuck.”

“We didn’t know what to grab so we threw frozen pizza in the oven.” Sam announced loudly, re-entering the room and placing two full hot pizzas in front of the couple. “Also we figured we should grab food that takes a while to make to give you two some alone time~” Ponk winked before he was promptly elbowed by Sam. “Oh fuck yeah!” Quackity cheered, practically shoving himself off Sapnap to grab a slice. Sam and Ponk laughed as Quackity shoveled the whole thing in his mouth, moaning at how good it was before swallowing and quickly grabbing another piece. Sapnap just watched for a moment. Quackity trying to reach for his third piece in the last 30 seconds, Sam trying (and failing) to hold him back so he didn’t choke and die after being saved less than an hour ago, and Ponk losing their absolute shit watching it all. All these people he’s known almost his whole life, yet when he also knew them so intimately on the battlefield, he sometimes forgot how…domestic it all was. How nice it was to just be with his lover and his family.

“Hey, Cracknap,” Ponk broke his train of thought, “you gonna eat or what?” Sapnap smiled. “Yeah, sorry, just got distracted. Thanks, guys.” “Anytime, Sap.” Sam replied, finally trusting Quackity to not die since he was now eating pizza at a normal speed. Good food and people he cared about, safe and sound.

Even if Quackity was right and Sapnap would probably have to go through another horrifyingly stressful ordeal by the next day, for now, everything was as it should be. As long as he could come back to this at the end of the day, whether it was with his friends, Quackity’s family, or his own, everything would be ok.

[hamiltonaf]

Tie the Knot | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count: 962

Warnings: Just pure fluff + BONUS - Social Media AU

A/N: Hello darlings, I’m trying my best to finish requests as fast as I possibly can so please bare with me when you send in a request. Hope you babes enjoy .xx

Kylian’s P.O.V

After 3 and a half years of (Y/N) and I being together, the day had finally come for us to make things official.

It felt surreal how we spent so many months of planning everything to all come down to this final moment.

I’ve never felt more nervous than I did today, my heart was racing and I was eager to see (Y/N) already. I last saw (Y/N) last night, perhaps the most special moment we spent together, but it feels like I saw her weeks ago.

At around 9pm, I arranged for a table to be set up under the gazebo where we were getting married. Nothing felt more special than seeing the smile on her face when she saw the set-up that made her eyes sparkle.

We spent our last few hours talking about the last 3 and a half years, basically taking a trip down memory lane. All the highs and lows that we’ve been through together made us stronger and brought us down to this final decision. A few minutes before midnight, we gave each other one last hug. I was just about to kiss her but she stopped me and told me to save it for our wedding. It was quite funny but quite cute at the same time as we shook hands and said our final goodbyes, “Bye bye girlfriend” “Ciao boyfriend.”

The adrenaline rush kept me up for most of the night, I was practically living on 4 hours of sleep. I really wanted to message (Y/N), I know she could easily ease my nerves, but I couldn’t be inconsiderate.

No good morning text from her made me feel uneasy. My nerves got even worse after messaging her and minutes later, still no reply. What if she’s having doubts ? What if she bails on me ? I obviously have been watching way too many romance movies with her.

Knowing that I was ready before her meant that I had more time to waste, but luckily I had my boys with me to be a distraction. That didn’t last long as I was called to stand under the gazebo. It was finally time.

After walking down the aisle with my boys, I felt at ease until I was finally under the gazebo. I could feel my hands start to sweat and suddenly I could feel the heat rush to my face. I stared at my shoes and took a few deep breaths as I heard the announcement to stand up for the bride.

The music played in the background but it was all a blur to me as I looked up to stare at (Y/N). It felt as if (Y/N) was the only person in the room as she walked down the aisle. She looked absolutely breathtaking and I couldn’t believe my eyes that she’s mine. It felt like a pinch me moment. This is it. At any minute now (Y/N) was going to be my wife and I never felt more lucky.

My emotions took a turn and I didn’t realise I had started crying. I walked down the few stairs to shake my father-in-law's hand before he handed her over to me. She softly said, “Aww babe I can’t believe you’re crying”, she then wiped away my tears with the pad of her thumb. “You look so beautiful ma chérie” I said lowly to her. “Thank you babe and you’re undeniably handsome as always” she giggled as we then stood in the middle of the gazebo facing each other.

The ceremony had happened so quickly - it felt like it because I’m guilty for spending my entire time staring at (Y/N) in awe. Vows were exchanged, so were our rings and we sealed it off with a kiss once we were told to.

After the ceremony, everyone moved to the indoor venue. Dinner was served, people took pictures with us, drinks were also served and the night had started once the floor was cleared, and the music started.

(Y/N) and I weren’t the type of couple to dance in front of everyone unless it’s just immediate family or if we’re alone, but in this case we were practically forced and just went with it.

“Hello husband” she smiled as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Has a nice ring to it” I winked. “Pun intended ?” She raised a brow. “Of course..but jokes aside, I can’t believe you’re my wife, how did I get so lucky” I pouted. “I’m the lucky one ! It’s so rare to get a husband who cries when he sees you walking down the aisle. What did I do to deserve you” she pressed her forehead against mine.

“I honestly didn’t even realise I was crying until you said so. You just looked so breathtaking, like an angel walking my way and I couldn’t believe it. You know I even messaged you this morning to help calm me down but you didn’t even reply, a bit rude of you wifey” I teased. “Awww you’re too cute ! Also, about that, I’m so sorry. I was just eager to get dressed and see you already” she playfully raised her brows. “You were eager to see me ?” I raised a brow. “Always… but right now I’m feeling selfish and I just want you all to myself” she pouted as she pecked my lips. “Ma chérie, if you’re going to continue then you’re just causing trouble” I whispered into her ear. “Don’t you know I like trouble” she softly whispered into my ear. Well damn.

BONUS - Social Media AU

liked by k.mbappe, achrafhakimi, brunabiancardi and 1 083 193 others

yourusername Miss to Mrs M🤍

k.mbappe: Mine 🤍

brunabiancardi: Congrats ! 🥹🤍😍

| yourusername: Thanks love 🥹🩷

user1: OMG OMG OMGGG I’m CRYING 😭😭😭😭

user2: STUN-NING ! Slay queen 😍🔥

user3: My faves are married 😭🥹😭🩷🩷🩷

achrafhakimi: ❤️

| yourusername: Thanks for all your help bestie 🤗❤️

user4: Rue, when was this ? 👀 jokes aside, you’re literally GORGEOUS 😍😍😍

liked by yourusername, tchaga_, ethanmbappe and 1 892 903 others

k.mbappe You and me, always and forever 🤍

ethanmbappe: Toutes mes félicitations à mon frère ainsi qu'à sa splendide épouse ❤️ yourusername (Congratulations to my brother and his beautiful wife)

| yourusername: 🥹🤍

user8: THE CAPTION 🥲😭

user9: This wedding content, MY HEART 😩❤️

tchaga_: Félicitations 😁 (Congratulations)

user10: I officially have wedding fever 🥲 this wedding is EVERYTHING!!!!!

user11: our mum and dad 😍😩🔥

user12: Please tell me this is not the end of the wedding content, I NEED A WHOLE DAMN VIDEO !!!!

| user13: Dude SAME 😭 like I wanna feel like I was there !

[katnisspeetaprim]

Pluto Pt. 2

Jungkook/CatHybrid!Reader

Summary: You finally meet and get to go home with Jungkook

Warnings: idol!au, female reader, hybrid reader, mentions of being mistreated, anxiety, felling humiliated, hybrids being second class citizens

Word Count: 2857 M.list

You sat quietly in the interview room, fidgeting nervously.

You knew how these things went. They ask to meet you because your mysterious past and striking looks intrigues them, but when they find out you aren’t so willing to talk about it they quickly get bored, and end up adopting some other hybrid instead. Just how you like it.

Truth be told you could do without this tonight. All you wanted to do was finish your book, but if someone requests to meet you, then you don’t really get the choice to refuse, for fear of offending a potential ‘customer’.

You’d clocked the handsome stranger as soon as he walked through the door. For some reason he felt extremely familiar, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why.

‘Here we are!’ The sudden door opening startled you from your thoughts. You couldn’t stand Margaret. She always had this fake smile around customers and it made you sick.

‘Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, Mr. Jeon?’ The stranger eagerly followed behind her and took a seat across the table from you, flashing you a reassuring smile.

‘I’ll leave you now. If you need anything, press the call button!’ And then, it was just the two of you left alone. Neither of you spoke at first. You certainly wouldn’t start the conversation, so unless he did, then you would both sit there forever, in silence I guess...

Jungkook suddenly cleared his throat.

‘I uh.. I’m Jungkook. Y/N right?’ You looked up at him and nodded slowly. Silence again.

‘Sorry. I didn’t really come here prepared...’ Jungkook laughed apologetically. He  really should have planned better. He noticed that you still had yet to say anything.

‘Do you want to talk?’ he asked kindly, not wanting you to feel pressured. You quickly shook your head, no.

‘That’s ok. Can I talk and you listen then?’ You looked at him for a moment, still suspicious before nodding. Jungkook picked up on your nervous nature, so he smiled softly at you. Now that he was actually meeting you, the anxiety he was feeling earlier seemed somewhat silly now. Although, he did notice that you were still ill at ease just sitting here with him.

‘You don’t have to be scared, I’m not that mean.’ He joked, hoping to relax you.

You heard it all before, seen through the facade, but for some reason, you believed Jungkook when he said he meant no harm. Just his whole nervous demeanour showed he had no cue what he was doing here.

‘Tell me about you...’ You whispered, so quietly he almost didn’t hear you. Jungkook was surprised to hear your voice after saying you didn’t want to talk, but he took in the sight of your ears, still pinned back nervously, so he just smiles and agrees.

‘Well, I’m a singer, pretty well known I guess you could say.’ He chuckled and rubbed at his arm.

‘You’re famous?’ You asked, a little taken a back by this new information.

‘You could say that.’ He laughed again, not picking up on your attitude change until he noticed you once again looking down, adverting your gaze.

Celebrities adopting or buying hybrids wasn’t unheard of and some were genuine and really did care for them, but a lot weren’t like that at all. You had known a few hybrids who were adopted by celebrities, only to be returned months later, a husk of who they used to be.

‘Is everything ok?’

‘I’m not going to be some PR stunt or sex toy for you! If that’s all you’re after then we can end this now!’ Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock after hearing your outburst, and quickly back peddled.

‘No! God no! That’s not it!’ He waved his arms frantically, trying to make you understand.

You narrowed your eyes and leaned back, allowing him the chance to talk. He let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his short hair.

‘Honestly... I’ve been more and more lonely recently, so I thought getting a hybrid might help...’

‘Oh..’ You once again fell silent with a frown.

‘Do you even want to be adopted?’ Jungkook suddenly broke the silence again. You looked at him confused.

‘I’m not going to force you to go if you don’t want to leave.’ You just stared at him, face still contorted with confusion. Usually, if someone wanted you, you didn’t get a choice, so you always tried to make yourself seem as undesirable as possible to people.

You weren’t used to actually having a choice...

‘I do..’ You mumbled out after a few tense moments of silence. Jungkook’s face lit up and he had to stop himself from leaping out of his chair.

‘Perfect! I mean... That’s great!’ You stared at the excited man across the table and gave him a small smile to show that you really did want this. Just as fast as it began, the moment was over when the door swung open again and Margaret strolled back in.

‘Sorry to cut this short, but we actually are closed now...’ Now that the shelter was closed, the sweet voice had faded away to one of slight annoyance.

‘Oh of course! Sorry I didn’t realise.’ Jungkook got the hint and stood up apologetically. She gave him a tight smile before turning towards you.

‘Y/N, why don’t you go to your room whilst I show Mr. Jeon out, hm?’ With one last glance to Jungkook, you quickly got up and scurried out of the room.

Margaret had already started walking away, so Jungkook jogged to catch up to her.

‘Actually Miss, I’d like to adopt Y/N.’ She stopped in her tracks and span round to face the startled man with a perplexed look. ‘S-she said she wanted it too, so...’ Jungkook was taken off guard by the sudden scrutiny.

‘She actually spoke to you!? Huh, interesting.’ Margaret looked him up and down before spinning round and carrying on down the hall.

‘If you follow me, there is paperwork to do.’

Jungkook didn’t really know what to make of the strange interaction, so he chanced a look back to the interview room, where he caught sight of your fluffy ear as you peaked round the corner at him. You gasped slightly when he saw you and ducked away. Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that left his mouth as he turned away and followed after the annoyed woman to work out the details.

Turns out getting a hybrid isn’t as simple as he thought. You couldn’t just turn up and leave with one the same day, there was a system.

Somebody had come out to his home to make sure it was a safe environment for a hybrid. Space wasn’t an issue for Jungkook, but the room he had haphazardly set up was a little lacklustre.

Since that visit, Jungkook had gone all out on decorating the room and furniture. He’d even gotten you your own TV and tablet. He’d be damned if you wouldn’t be comfortable whilst living with him. The inspector was much more impressed on their second visit.

When he returned to the shelter a week later, he found you already in the waiting room with your bag, waiting for him to arrive. He couldn’t help but notice that you only had a small rucksack worth of luggage.

‘Hey, is this all you have?’ You nodded as you fiddled with the straps of your bag.

‘Oh Mr. Jeon! She’s all ready to go. Do you have a collar for her?’ Your face soured at the word.

‘Umm no? Does she need one?’ The receptionist, a different woman than before, reached under the desk, pulling out a plain collar with plastic tags reading 'temporary.’

‘Yes it’s law. She can wear this until you get a replacement and we’ll put a sticker with your address on.’ She stood up and looked at you expectantly. You knew it would only make a scene if you refused so you let her put the collar on you, feelings of humiliation washing over you.

‘There, that’s better.’ Jungkook quickly picked up your bag and ushered you out the door, and into the front seat of his car.

When he was securely sat next to you, he reached over and took the plastic tag of the collar between his fingers.

‘You don’t have to wear this you know.’ He was trying to help, but he was very wrong. He still had a lot to learn when it came to hybrid laws. You shook your head.

‘In public I do. You’ll be fined if I’m seen without it.’ You spoke sadly and pulled the tag from his grip, hiding it within your own hands. Jungkook sighed in defeat and shook his head before looking back to you.

‘We’ll figure something out, ok? And when we’re home, you don’t have to wear it at all if you don’t want to, ok?’ You caught his gaze and saw the sympathetic look in his eye, and you couldn’t help but trust him.

‘Thank you.’

Jungkook had told you he was famous but you still didn’t really know who he was. You didn’t have a phone and finding an unoccupied computer at Pluto was rare, so you couldn’t even Google him. So imagine your surprise when he pulled up to one of the wealthiest gated communities in South Korea.

‘What’s that look for?’ Jungkook laughed when he noticed you looking round in awe.

‘I just didn’t expect this...’ Jungkook laughed again and focused back on the road.

‘You’ll get used to it.’ As he was pulling into the parking lot, you only then realised how long you’ve been driving. Plus you’d passed some pretty high end hybrid shelters on the way, ones with more exotic hybrids, so why would he travel all the way to Pluto?

You decided to keep the questions to yourself for now, not wanting to scare him off before you even got through his front door.

‘So here we are, this is my home!’ You looked around the room and the first thing you noticed was that the walls were quite bare, but you could already tell it was a nice place just from the first room.

‘I know it could do with some decorating, but I’ve been too busy...’ He trailed off almost shamefully.

‘I think it’s nice.’

‘I can give you a tour if you like? Or you can walk round alone if you prefer?’

‘I’d like to walk alone please.’ Jungkook nodded in understanding.

‘Ok! I’ll work on lunch then. You must be hungry.’ Before he could scurry away, you called out to ask a cautious question.

‘Is it still ok for me to take this off?’ You gestured to the uncomfortable collar. Jungkook gave you a sad smile.

‘Yes, definitely. Here, let me help.’ He came up behind you and with gentle hands, undid the offending clasp. ‘There, hopefully you’ll be more comfortable now.’

You walked the lavish home, still cautious of this all being some cruel joke, or Jungkook not being as kind as he’s made himself out to be.

If doors were closed, you didn’t attempt to open them, only venturing through open doors. Sticking your had into a room, you noticed that it was mostly empty aside from some exercise equipment and... What’s that in the corner? You curiously ventured forwards and your ears fell down sadly when you realised it was an empty dog beg, with a few toys scattered round.

He hadn’t told you he had a dog. You didn’t have a problem with animals, but you would have liked a heads up. You held yourself tightly, anxiety slowly rising again. You speedily made your way from the room, breathing heavily and trying to stop the panic.

‘Hey- Woah! What’s wrong!?’ Jungkook rushed down the hall to you and went to grab your arms, but thought better of it. He settled for hovering his hand behind your back, ready in case you fainted.

‘You didn’t tell me you had a dog.’ You mumbled out sadly. He looked confused for a second, before groaning out, annoyed.

‘Y/N I’m so sorry! I thought they would have told you, or at least shown you my forms...’ You just shook your head with a frown.

‘Shit...’ He whispered and rubbed his face in frustration. How could they not tell you something so important?  ‘I’m sorry. Seriously I am. Will it be a problem for you?’ Jungkook held his breath after he asked the question. If you couldn’t live with Bam, then he didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t think he could handle taking you back after giving you false hope, but he couldn’t get rid of Bam either.

‘It’s fine.’ You whispered after what felt like an eternity. Jungkook released his breath with a thankful sigh, but noticed you were still a little on edge.

‘He’s not here if that helps. I thought it might be a bit much for you at first.’ You nodded, grateful that he’d thought about your comfort.

‘Did you see your room yet?’ Jungkook asked, trying to move on the conversation.

‘Um no. The doors were closed so I didn’t know if I was allowed..’ Jungkook just shook his head.

‘You live here now Y/N, nothing is off limits. Come on!’ He walked ahead and gestured you to follow behind. He stopped in front of a closed door at the end of the hall, but he paused before opening the door.

‘Before you see it... I tried my best with the decorating, but I’ve never decorated for a girl before, plus I didn’t really know what you liked.’ You stared at him incredulously. He’d gone through the effort of decorating your room. That was the most thoughtful thing someone had done for you in a long time.

He pushed the door open and your breath hitched in your throat. You had expected a tiny room with a bed just about fitting, but what you saw threw you completely off guard.

In the middle of the room was a king size bed, with simple baby pink bed sheets and soft looking pillows. As you stepped forwards, you were shocked by the sight of the massive TV  mounted on the wall at the end of the bed. It was bigger than any of the TV’s  they had at Pluto. You noticed a door next to the TV and went to open it before Jungkook stopped you.

‘That’s just a walk in closet. I didn’t realise you had so little clothes so we’ll have to go shopping at some point.’ Curiosity got the better of you. Even though he had told you it was empty, you still wanted to see. Pulling open the door, you gasped when you realised this simple closet was bigger than your whole room at Pluto!

Backing out, you closed the door and leaned against it as you once again looked into the room. Finally in the corner of the room, sat a desk whose top was littered with all different kinds of books and drawing/writing materials. Also a very expensive looking tablet.

‘I noticed you reading at the home, so I picked out some books I thought you’d like.’ Jungkook hurried over and began standing the books up, only for them to fall back down. You let out a gentle giggle as you watched him struggle.

He stopped and turned to face you, smiling wide at the sound you made. Having him stare at you like that made you feel hot all of a sudden. You looked away with a blush.

Jungkook laughed to himself and rubbed the back of his neck.

‘Um, I sort of didn’t know what else you liked, so I got you some craft stuff too.’ He gestured to the other items on the desk. Maybe you can make some stuff to decorate my walls with! Or draw on the tablet.’ Jungkook joked but you weren’t listening anymore, not really. As you took one last look round the room, tears began to form in your eyes. Jungkook was horrified when he saw.

‘N-no! Please don’t cry! If you hate it, we can change whatever you want! We-‘

‘I love it.’ You cut off his panicked ramblings with a strangled sob, emotions getting the better of you. ‘Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me before.’ You covered your mouth as you began to sob harder with happy tears.

Jungkook felt tears of his own form as he stepped forwards and reached out his hand to touch your shoulder, but he once again hesitated.

Without any hesitation on your part, you threw your arms round his shoulders and buried your face into his neck.

‘You have no idea how thankful I am.’ Jungkook was stunned at the sudden contact from you, but still tightly wrapped his arms round you in a comforting hug. He knew that’s what you needed right now.

As you stood in the warmth of his arms, you’d never felt safer than you did in that moment.

In that moment, you knew everything would be alright.

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

You Cannot Run From Your Past

Mobster!Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader

The rest of the meal was quiet, save for the noise of knives and forks gently scraping against the ceramic plates. You were thankful for the silence, giving you the opportunity to think about everything that had happened that day. You’d gone from living on the streets to being housed by one of the most dangerous people in the country. a/n:this is a mafia au! so there will be a LOT of violence, MINORS DNI, this is part one of the series, the rest will be linked once posted warnings:mentions of wounds, blood, murder, gore, smut(MAJOR smut) word count:4.5k

Everyone knew who the 141 were, some of the most feared men on this side of the Atlantic. No one with even a single braincell knew to fuck with them. Their leader, Price, had killed men for less than what you were currently kneeling for. You’d gotten caught trying to steal money from one of the henchmen. Your boyfriend had kicked you out of the apartment, after finding out he’d been cheating of course, and now you were homeless. It was either steal from the, what you assumed was dumb, henchman or go hungry for another week until someone took pity on you. So here you were, kneeling before a man who wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet between your brows.

“Did you really think he wouldn’t notice?” Price was more annoyed than truly angry, he felt some sort of sympathy towards you.

“I thought if I was quick enough he wouldn’t, no.” You were ashamed to admit you thought you could get away with your plan.

“Why were you trying to pickpocket anyway?” Price sat on the edge of his desk, staring down at you.

“Boyfriend, ex boyfriend, kicked me out and I’ve been living on the street for the last couple of months. Got desperate if I’m gonna be honest.” You hadn’t lived in England that long, having moved over from Massachusetts earlier in the year to live with your boyfriend.

God you had felt like such a moron, he’d lured you over with the promise of being able to take care of you, only to dump you out onto the street like trash. Of course he’d at least given the courtesy of telling you about Price and his men first, and yet here you were.

“Soap, take her and get her something to eat, I want to have a chat with the ex.” Your brow furrowed, why the hell did he want to talk with Eric anyway?

A man walked over, the strip of hair down the middle of his skull was slicked down yet looked almost fluffy. He helped you up gently, taking you down to the kitchen where a chef was cooking up something delicious. Your stomach grumbled loudly, leaving you embarrassed as everyone’s heads turned to stare at you. It really had been too long since you’d had a decent meal, not counting the scraps that the cook had given you a few days ago.

“Have a seat lass, eat as much as you’d like.” His voice wasn’t condescending and that you were grateful for, people could be so cruel to the homeless.

The chef dished up a heaping plate of what looked like spaghetti bolognese, the scent of roasted garlic and tomato filled the air. Your mouth was salivating within seconds, but before you could pull the plate closer the chef was sliding a heft piece of cheesy garlic bread on top. Oh my, you had definitely died and gone to heaven if this was going to be the case. You picked up your fork and slid the plate closer. The steam rising from the sauce caused a slight bead of sweat to rise along your browline. You couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away as you dug in, knowing better than to eat as fast as you could lest you get sick.

The flavours burst over your tongue like fireworks, this was definitely the best bowl of pasta you’d ever eaten. You swallowed the forkful you’d just eaten before biting into the garlic bread, nearly moaning at the salty bite of the cheese. This was how Price got to eat on the daily? God you would give anything just to eat like this at least once a month. Half the plate was gone before you came up for a breath, wiping your mouth with the napkin Soap had left by you.

“Would you like some water?” The chef was holding out a glass, his hands now clean that you noticed.

“Oh thank you so much.” You took the glass grateful, gulping down the water until there was nothing left.

You set the glass down next to your napkin, digging in once more to the amazing pasta. Maybe he was letting you eat one final meal before he killed you, there were worse ways to go. At this rate you weren’t going to complain, not since this was the first decent meal you’d had in forever. On the other side of town, you were completely unaware that Price had located your ex Eric and was paying him a personal visit.

Knuckles collided with the skin on his cheek, blood pouring from the wound opened by the ring on Price’s pinky.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eric could barely lift his head, words slurred as his vision blurred.

“Do you really think I’m that naive? You worked for me, and yet your little friend is trying to steal from one of my men to get herself some food.” Price was beyond enraged, Eric was one of the lower henchmen, someone to clean up his dirty work mainly.

“Fuck, she’s still alive?” Eric screamed in pain as a blade dug into the skin and muscle of his shoulder.

Simon was standing by the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Price take care of a mistake he’d made. Though no one but Soap, Gaz, and Price were ever allowed to call him Simon, most people who bore witness to him as Ghost. He was the silent killer, slipping into someone’s apartment with ease and slipping out without leaving a trace behind. He’d had nearly as big a reputation as Price himself, for different reasons of course.

“Yes, she’s still alive, however since I’ve come to find out you’ve been stealing money from me you won’t be around to see any of it.” Eric’s eyes widened in fear, lips parted to beg and plea as Price pulled the trigger.

The gunshot was partially muffled, no one would call the police until Price and Simon had fled the scene, giving him ample time to make it home with an alibi. He began to wonder how you were doing, had you been able to eat and take a shower? Maybe you took a bath and soaked in one of the large tubs he had. It was the least he could do, the only thing Price never did was murder women or children, it was against his code. He’d heard about someone else who took anyone down that crossed their path, he refused to be like that.

Goddamn American’s.

“Make sure all our fingerprints are gone before tonight.” Price didn’t wait to see if Simon listened or not before heading down to his car. 

His driver was waiting behind the wheel, nodding when Price muttered the word ‘home’. He hadn’t planned on getting messy today, but sometimes things happened that he couldn’t control. It would be less paperwork in the long run, he’d just transfer the money from Eric’s account to one for you. Maybe he could get Kyle to do it, he’d been itching to do something for the last few weeks anyhow.

“We’ve arrived sir.” Alex pulled the car into the garage, knowing better than to open the door for Price.

“Thank you, why don’t you take the rest of the night off? If I need your assistance I’ll call.” Price slipped out of the back of the car and headed inside to look for you.

The sound of two people arguing caught his attention, he could make out Soap’s voice right away, but the other wasn’t one he was quite familiar with. As he turned the corner the picture before him nearly had him laughing. You were standing across from Soap, freshly showered in what looked to be a pair of Soap’s pajamas, arguing about desserts.

“Brownies are clearly the superior choice! You just have horrible taste!” Soap scoffed, rolling his eyes at your bratty attitude.

“Tha’s a lie!” Soap was ready to argue his point on why the chocolate chip cookies were better.

“That’s because you have horrible taste! Even the chef agrees the brownies were better.” You refused to back down, ignoring the way Soap’s chest was heaving.

Price had stopped in the doorway, snickering at the way the two of you were acting like complete children. It was a nice change of pace, and with how his night had gone it was a pleasant surprise to come back to.

“You’re back! I just wanted you to know that your chef is amazing and makes some of the best bolognese I’ve ever had before.” Your stomach was still full, slightly aching with everything you’d eaten.

“Glad to know the food was up to your standards, you settling in alright?” Price kept his hands hidden, knowing his knuckles were bloody and bruised.

“I am, I honestly don’t even know how to thank you for everything.” You were afraid he would still kill you, especially since you’d spent the last hour arguing with his henchman Soap.

He brushed you off, assuring you that you didn’t need to worry about repaying him right then, he could find a way for you to work for him if needed. Maybe you could do the finances, it was an easy enough job for you to do, it would keep you housed and fed as well. You were quite attractive as well, he could take you to any fancy party as his arm candy.

“How well are you with money?” It sounded like such an odd question.

“I worked in finance in the US, so I’m decent.” You didn’t want to say who your employer used to be, lest it cost your life.

“Perfect, you’ll work for me, if that’s alright.” Price raised a brow questioningly.

Your jaw dropped open, nodding quickly to confirm that yes, you would absolutely be alright working for him. It would get you off the streets at least, though working for someone so dangerous was nothing new to you. Maybe you could get an apartment nearby, something that wasn’t infested with termites like your ex's place.

“We’ll get you started tomorrow, the first matter of business is taking you shopping so you can look presentable for meetings.” Wait, you weren’t going to have to be around him 24/7, were you?

“I’m sorry sir, I’d be going to meetings with you?” For some reason the thought unnerved you, what if things backfired and you ended up dead this time?

“Yes, is that going to be a problem?” Price turned to face you, brow raised slightly.

“No, not at all sir.” It was time to keep your mouth shut and do whatever was told, Price was a very dangerous man.

You only had a couple minutes to prepare before Price, along with Soap, were dragging you out to one of the many cars that sat in his garage. Soap would be driving wherever you wanted to go, money not an issue to make sure you would look flawless. Designers were a waste of money, sure having the logo would make heads turn, but thousands for a piece of cloth? Ridiculous.

Price insisted you buy things that at least looked professional, since you seemed to be so against letting him purchase things for you. Soap even tried to interject and get you to agree with Price’s demands, saying it was better not to argue. You wanted to stand your ground and refuse, until you caught sight of a gorgeous dress. There’d be no reason to wear it, but by god did you need to have it at that moment. So you relinquished and gave permission to price to choose things for you, as long as you could get that dress.

He agreed happily, choosing things and letting you find your size so as not to make you uncomfortable. It was nice, knowing that you would be able to get all these new clothes without the stipulation you would need to sleep with him. Your ex would constantly hold gifts and such over your head so you would sleep with him. And yet he’d still had the nerve to cheat and throw you out.

“Awfully quiet sweetheart.” Price turned his head to face you, noticing the way your brow had furrowed.

“Just thinking about the past is all.” You merely shrugged, there was no use in being upset over things you couldn’t change, but it still stung.

“Well, why don’t you tell me about it?” Price had turned to face you fully, attention focused on everything you had to say.

The words turned to ash in your mouth, could you tell him the truth about the type of person you were? How you’d helped someone murder so many innocent people that dared cross his path just by simply existing?

“Do you want the basic rundown, or all the nitty gritty?” You had only ever told one person about your childhood, you’d hoped to never run into him again.

“Everything, spare no detail.” Oh, well this was going to be a long day.

The words slipped out with ease, telling Price everything, from how your father was physically abusive, to how your mother tried to use you for her own benefit. You had run away at fifteen, working odd jobs before you met your old boss at eighteen. He kept you housed, fed, and clothed from when you turned eighteen to a few months shy of when you left entirely. You’d seen things most people who’d gone off to war never dealt with. It was a horrible reminder of how much you’d had to give up just to survive.

“You worked for someone else, someone important..who.” Though it was a question, Price knew exactly who you’d worked for.

“James Barnes, sir.” Your heart was racing, no one except for James, and his right hand woman, Natasha, knew about you.

Price’s expression darkened, causing your heart rate to spike suddenly as you realized how badly you’d fucked up. Would this be the end for you? Having admitted to working for what was essentially his rival?

“How long?” Price could use any information you had on the other man, especially if it meant getting ahead.

“Over ten years, took me in when I was barely eighteen.” It was the truth, you’d basically grown up alongside James.

“And you don’t by any chance know some things that could be useful to me?” It was a loaded question, do you tell him how James had a son he cared so much about. Or how his best friend for over twenty years had cut off all contact after he’d heard of what became of him?

“I’ll tell you everything over dinner.” It was a proposition. You give him information, he gives you anything you could ever ask for.

Soap smirked to himself, pulling down the long road that led to Price’s luxurious home. You would fit in quite nicely with everyone.

Price had everything brought to your room, the closets stuffed full of all your new clothes, shoes, and even the few accessories you picked out. It was nice, knowing you were going to be alright as long as you didn’t step on anyone’s toes. As you made your way down to the kitchen you noticed someone else talking to Price. He was big, arms large enough to crush your skull(though you’d probably thank him). Something about him seemed so familiar though, as if you’d run into him many times before.

“Ready to eat?” Price turned away from the stranger, gesturing to the expansive table.

“I am, thank you so much for all of this, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”  You walked over and sat down, if the food was even half as good that lunch was, you would die happy.

Soap and another man you’d never met before walked into the kitchen, taking their own seats alongside the newcomer. The chef brought out the first course, a delicate butternut squash soup with crusty pieces of bread to dop. You nearly moaned at how silky the soup was, making sure not to slurp and disturb anyone else. The bread had a slight bite to it, the crust just hard enough to soak in the buttery goodness without becoming soggy.

“So, what can you tell me?” Price had finished his soup, sipping on the glass of bourbon that had been brought out along with his food.

“James is someone that’s highly feared in most of the states, word spreads like wildfire and they’re all too afraid to say anything bad about him.” You took another bite of the bread, taking a moment to collect your emotions.

“His best friend Steve hasn’t spoken to him since they were teens, he’d found out about James joining the mafia and just disappeared one day.” You’d witnessed the way Steve had torn the other man apart, it was gut wrenching to watch.

You felt bad for James at that moment, he no longer had his family, and now the one person he could rely on was gone as well. Natasha was the closest thing he had to family anymore, and last you knew they were still friends. 

“He has a son, named after himself of course, goes by JJ. Last I knew his son was nearly thirteen and was living solely with his dad.” You sighed softly, grabbing your glass of water to take a sip.

“Surprised he had the time to knock someone up.” Soap mumbled into his food, ignoring everything else entirely.

“Johnny, what did we talk about?” Price stared at the other man like a disappointed father.

“No talking shit at dinner.” Soap, or was it Johnny?

You tried to hide your smile, a soft giggle slipping through as you finished your bowl of soup. Soap looked affronted, how dare you laugh at him being scolded by Price as if he was a child, very uncool.

“Before we continue with our conversation, I’d like to introduce Gaz, and Simon.” Price gestured to the two men sitting across from you.

You were shocked that someone as stunning as Gaz was working for him and not as a runway model, he could bring people to tears with his beauty. Simon wasn’t glaring at you per se, more like he was trying to decipher you. There was something about him that made you want to stare back, but you thought better of it and focused your attention back onto Price.

“Nice to meet you both, I met Soap earlier and his horrible taste in snacks.” Gaz couldn’t help but laugh at your statement.

“Thank you! He’s always had the worst taste imaginable.” Gaz was definitely going to become a good friend, you could sense it.

“Shut up!” Soap threw his hands up, arms crossing over his chest with a huff.

“You do mate, it’s all out of love.” Gaz slapped a hand on his shoulder, laughing when Soap rolled his eyes.

The chef brought out the entree before anymore conversation could continue, a beautifully seared filet mignon with roasted fingerling potatoes and caramelized carrots. You wanted to dig in almost instantly, waiting until everyone had their plates before slicing into the meat. It melted like butter on your tongue, washing over your taste buds as if it were made by god himself. 

“Alright, as I was saying earlier about James. He’s a very paranoid man, comes with the territory when you’ve slaughtered as many people as he has. So unless you have a reason to do business with him you won’t be able to get close. I’ve watched him murder a man for less before, and that’s the last thing I want to see ever again.” You cut apart one of the potatoes, popping the half into your mouth.

“So, what you’re saying is that if I need to take care of him, we need someone on the inside.” Price had a point, but James would see it coming a million miles away.

“Partially, but James would see that coming a mile away. You want someone he’s close with, a loved one, or a best friend that knows his every move and can get you the information.” You kept your eyes on your plate, not noticing the way all eyes were suddenly on you.

“And, do you know someone that could do this?” Price was asking something dangerous, sure you knew plenty of people that could, and had reason to kill James, but none of them were willing.

“The only man that would ever want to take him out would be Tony Stark, man’s had it out for him since he found out James had his parents murdered.” It had been the final straw that sent you packing.

“Hmm, I’ll have to give him a look see later.” Price dug into his own food, ignoring the way Simon seemed to still be staring at you.

“He’s a dangerous man, nearly had me killed just for walking on his property one day.” You rolled your eyes, stabbing your potato with more force than necessary.

Simon raised a brow, watching how you seemed to become annoyed at even mentioning Tony’s name. Whoever this man was clearly had a vendetta against you, and you as well for him.  That’s how this type of world worked, you were either with or against the people you considered the villains. You seemed to fit in so well that Simon couldn’t be bothered to second guess any of it, not when Price welcomed you in with open arms.

“Have to be precautious, comes with the territory darling.” Price merely shrugged, he’d always kept one eye open no matter what, but some people were just paranoid.

“Yeah, I guess. Didn’t make my life any easier when I was trying to get out of New York though, I swear James has men everywhere.” You’d almost been caught twice before finally boarding the plane to safety.

The rest of the meal was quiet, save for the noise of knives and forks gently scraping against the ceramic plates. You were thankful for the silence, giving you the opportunity to think about everything that had happened that day. You’d gone from living on the streets to being housed by one of the most dangerous people in the country. This was definitely a dream, you were going to wake up in the morning and find yourself under that bridge with everyone else. It wasn’t the first time you’d had this dream only to wake up to reality. Though it usually landed you back in the US and not over in London.

“I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me, goodnight.” Price nodded towards everyone before leaving the table.

You weren’t sure if you were allowed to head to bed or not, after the day you’d had your body was begging for sleep. Soap’s clothes, while a little oversized, were definitely going to be comfortable enough to sleep in. Gaz immediately pulled Soap into a conversation, discussing something that sounded like an entirely different language to you at that moment. You gave Simon a quick nod before leaving the table and heading up to your new room. The only light was from the moon, illuminating the room in a soft ethereal glow.

Throwing back the covers on the mattress you crawled into the plush bed, groaning softly at how soft the comforter was. It felt as if you were laying on a cloud, even with the crisp air the blankets were just warm enough to keep you comfortable. Your eyes slipped closed before you could even try and fight them, slipping into dreamland.

Downstairs Soap, Gaz, and Simon were all sitting around the table. Soap had tried to pull Simon into the conversation only to be shot down immediately. Simon couldn’t explain it, but something about you drew him in. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way, always pushing away the prospect of dating as if it was a deadly disease. Soap would catch on to his sudden fixation on you, man was like a bloodhound when it came to women. The very last thing that Simon wanted, or needed, was Soap getting on his ass about you. He couldn’t get a proper read on you, there was something you weren’t telling everyone. And Simon was determined to find out every tiny thing.

Meanwhile in New York

James was angry, nearly panting as he paced the foyer of his penthouse. How the hell had you managed to slip through his fingers so easily? He’d had eyes on you for so long, and yet you’d managed to get to fucking England. Natasha had been the one to break the news to him, stance stoic as the words sunk into his bones. You were gone, and now there was a high chance that you’d managed to get yourself killed. James knew all about Price and his little minions, the fucker was slowly taking control of more countries.

“We need to locate her, now.” James kept his back to Natasha, the only person he ever trusted.

“I’ve reached out to my informants, they’re scouring every nook and cranny to find her. Last we knew her boyfriend was killed.” Shit, if they’d gotten to someone you were dating, you were definitely next.

“You mean that little shit convinced her to leave, and someone got to him before me?” James’ tone was deadly, venom lacing each word.

“It appears so, they’re claiming his death was a suicide, but the autopsy showed facial wounds caused by something small but sharp.” Natasha had seen the photos, it was pretty clear what had caused the superficial wounds.

He sighed softly, stepping away from the floor to ceiling windows to fully face Natasha who was watching him closely. James was the type of man to take out anyone that stood in his way of something he wanted. She could never figure out why James seemed to be so infatuated with you when you’d never shown any interest. You were friendly with him of course, but there had never been romantic feelings. Had he been trying to replace Steve’s friendship with you? It was the only thing that made any sense.

“Why don’t we make a quick little trip across the pond, there’s some people I’ve needed to visit anyway.” James smirked, reaching up to slick back his hair gently.

“I’ll call Scott and make sure the plane is ready in the morning.” Natasha turned away from him, pulling out her phone to make a quick call.

Who in the world did James know that lived over in England? The last she’d heard about that was when she’d had someone killed in their apartment for stealing money. Her phone pinged with a new message, a name she’d never expected to see again flashing before her.

Steve Rogers: We need to talk.