#okay this has been in my drafts for like a month at this point so i'm releasing it into the wild

[lottluvs]

PLEASE give us your lottie x reader headcanons if reader was the one to draw the queen card!!! 🗣️ bonus points if you add fluff please please 🙏🙏🙏

i assume this is in the view of lottie and reader being the closest two on the team for a bit, therefore i will be going off of that ! ( this has been rotting in my drafts for about a month im so sorry anon ! 😭 )

a / n : sorry for the spam posting ! trying to post all my drafts and asks so i can write more for the newer ones !

Drawing the Card

‣ The moment your hand hovers over the deck, Lottie feels it in her chest. It’s a quiet pang of dread, as though the wilderness has already decided.

‣ When the Queen is revealed, her breath leaves her, but she doesn’t say a word. Her eyes lock onto yours—wide, searching, conflicted.

‣ She doesn’t argue outwardly. She has always taught herself to accept what comes, but the flicker of fear and regret in her expression says otherwise.

‣ Lottie can’t bring herself to look at the others, not when she feels like they’re already circling you in their minds.

‣ She knows she should be calm, a leader, but her body is stiff, her fingers twitching. It feels personal now, too personal.

The Hunt

‣ Lottie lingers behind the group as preparations begin, her movements slower, more hesitant than usual. Her usual conviction isn’t there.

‣ When the others chant and the hunt starts, she doesn’t join in. Instead, she watches you run, her expression distant and unreadable.

‣ She feels her stomach churn when she hears the first sounds of pursuit—footsteps crashing through the snow, branches snapping in the distance.

‣ Her instincts pull her in two directions: the leader in her says to follow the ritual; the human in her says to run after you and never let them touch you.

‣ She stays back as long as she can, but the further the hunt goes, the more restless she becomes.

‣ When she hears the scuffle—the sharp intake of breath, the sound of you hitting the ground—Lottie’s legs move before her brain can process it.

‣ She breaks through the trees to see you surrounded, their weapons raised, and something in her snaps.

‣ ��No,” she says, her voice sharp, cutting through the chaos. She steps between you and the others, her arms outstretched like a shield.

‣ Her voice doesn’t waver as she addresses the group. “This isn’t what the wilderness wants. Stop.” It’s not a request—it’s a command.

‣ When someone protests, her mask slips. “If you want to shed blood so badly, take mine,” she snaps, her voice taut with anger and fear. “But you will not touch them.”

After the Hunt

‣ Once the group reluctantly backs down, Lottie doesn’t speak. She kneels in the snow next to you, her hands hovering like she doesn’t know what to do.

‣ “Are you okay?” she finally asks, her voice low, almost detached. She won’t meet your eyes right away.

‣ Back at the cabin, Lottie doesn’t let anyone near you. Her body language is closed off, protective—an unspoken warning to the others to keep their distance.

‣ She doesn’t say much as she tends to your wounds, her hands methodical but shaky. You can feel the tension radiating off her in waves.

‣ Later, when the cabin is quiet, she sits next to you, her knees pulled to her chest. “I didn’t know if I could stop it,” she admits after a long silence. “I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself if I didn’t.”

‣ From then on, her presence around you changes. She doesn’t hover, but she watches more carefully, keeps closer, more attuned to any shifts in the group’s dynamic.

‣ I also like to think she makes you sleep next to her.. or maybe even in the same cot, hands always right there.

[peterpcrker]

X-MEN 2000 | dir. Bryan Singer

[aajjks]

Love & War (m)

warnings: vèry lóng, híghly 18+ thèmès, èxplïcït smüt/sèx, únprótèctèd sèx, chèátíng, górè, múrdèr, prègnáncy, lônlíness, èxplïcït víölèncè, blóód, yándèrè cháràctès, bördèrlínè cóffèè àddïctïön, dàrk jüngkóók.

pairing: yandere police officer jungkook x fem!Barista reader

genre: strictly 18+ killer fic, rated M, Gore, thriller and erotica

word count: 6,000

note. My fingers have been hurting so much these days because I’ve been dedicating a lot of time to writing this. I started this draft on October 14 and now I have finally finished it today and I wanted to publish this because I have worked hard on this so much I’ve done a lot of extensive research so please guys like it and re-blog it. This is worth a read I promise please please send feedback and let me know what you think because I really need it.

•••

This case in particular is brutal.

As Jungkook sits in his office space, he’s looking at the latest crime scene pictures. And they are brutal, the man’s throat is literally spilling out, tongue cut off.

There’s so much blood.

Seodaemun-gu is particularly cold, and he’s been working overtime, as an inspector he’s been pretty busy thanks to a psychotic serial killer who’s been targeting a lot of men lately

This is the 17th victim.

Jungkooks been trying to piece the puzzle together, he picks up the warm cup of coffee and gulps down another sip, his furrows his eyebrows, he knows that it’s just one person doing all of these killings.

The pattern of killing is too similar, the gore, the marks, the method.

There is a familiar drug found in every single one of the victims bodies.

“Fuck.” He curses as he drops the pictures on the table, he needs to catch the killer before it’s too late, it is too late anyways.

October isn’t so kind this year, it is harshly cold. And this case has his whole attention. “I’ll catch you, psycho.” He mutters under his breath.

He will catch the psycho before Halloween.

Jungkooks grip on his cup tightens. He will make this killer pay. Just as he’s staring at the pictures again, his phone rings.

He sighs, averting his gaze to his phone as he picks it up, a small smile playing on his face. “Hey baby!!!” He grins speaking into the phone.

He loves his girlfriend so much. She’s the only thing that is making him happy these days.

“Hey koo!” as she greets him back, he cannot stop smiling, “ahh so are we still on for tonight?” He asks slyly, she makes him so happy.

There is a silence for a few seconds, but he waits patiently for her response, Jungkook holds the phone up his ear, waiting.

“Oh… sorry baby but no, I’m kinda busy tonight. You know this assignment is keeping me up all night. I can’t I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters.

“U-Uh..”

This is the third time.

“Umm it’s okay.” he replies, playing it cool but honestly, he’s a little upset because she’s been doing everything but spending time with him and he’s the one trying to solve a fucking murder case.

“Don’t be upset koo… I swear I’ll make it up to you.” He sighs. “It’s okay baby. I…understand.” Jungkook knows there’s no point in arguing.

He just misses her.

After talking to her for a few minutes, he finally ends the call. It’s time he refocuses on the case.

What he should be focusing on right now is catching the killer

And not the fact that his girlfriend is literally ignoring him for the past days, he’s barely seen her face this month, it’s bothering him, but he cannot afford to be distracted right now.

There cannot be an 18th victim.

He won’t let it happen.

•••

It’s lonely

But at least now he gets to go to his favorite coffee shop and drink, coffee in peace while staring out at the view, honestly speaking the view isn’t that special but jungkook likes to have some free time to himself just so he can reconnect with the world.

he enters the coffee shop, the bells above jingle as the door opens, it’s not too crowded today which is a good thing because the less the crowd the more he can focus and think.

Only a handful of people who are drinking and waiting for their orders as he approaches his table. Jungkook sits down on it, taking the chair out.

He scans the area. He likes how peaceful it is here because his job is not peaceful or neither cute, he has just come back from seeing a gruesome murder scene and this is exactly the detox He needs right now.

“Hey!!! Mr Jeon?” his snap of his thoughts when the barista calls out his name, he turns to look ahead, and smiles seeing the familiar face.

“Hey Ms yn! How’s it going? I think I’m just gonna have the regular.” He tells, looking at you, and you nod, you’re a sweet girl.

You’ve been serving him coffee for the past year almost, “well got it! Maybe I should get you some brownie too; of course courtesy of me.” You laugh, “looks like you really could use some sweetness in your life since you work so hard”

He laughs a little, shaking his head. “yeah you’re right. It’s been quite bitter these days.” He mutters to himself almost.

You walk away. impatiently, he waits for his coffee.. He might have an addiction, but it’s OK. Caffeine is necessary when you’re a police officer.

Sometime later you come back with his order. And he looks at you, thanking you.. “thank you Ms yn. Appreciate you for putting up with me.” he jokes, you give him a kind smile, “oh Mr Jeon how about you Just call me yn?” You insist and he almost blushes.

“Ahhh sure sure I will but only if you call me by my first name too.” He waves his hand, picking up his coffee to take a sip, and the smell of the brownie just fills his nostrils and he hums in delight

“The brownie smells so good and this coffee is awesome. Thank you so much.”

You wink in return, which has his cheeks actually burning up

You’re bold and you’re confident and that he appreciates about you because maybe you like him a little and you don’t really make an effort to hide the fact

“Okay.. I’ll go now have fun” he watches as you go away.

And he can’t help but feel his heart flutter in his chest.

•••

A few days later, his same routine just goes on and on, but there is not a single point that he has been able to catch, which could help him actually lead to the killer

And his days are only getting worse. There’s an emptiness that he’s starting to feel. Honestly, he feels like a failure.

A failure of a boyfriend and a failure of an inspector.

Jungkook steps into his dimly lit apartment, shrugging off his rain-soaked jacket. The warmth of the place feels hollow, as if reflecting the emptiness creeping into his chest. He slumps onto the couch, running his hands through his damp hair. His mind is a mess, caught between the horrifying images of the latest crime scene, Mina’s growing distance, and the subtle comfort he finds in your quiet presence at the café.

He pulls out his phone and stares at Mina’s name in his contacts. Something in him snaps, and before he can overthink it, he presses “Call.”

It rings longer than it should.

“Hello?” Her voice is clipped, impatient.

“Mina. Can you come over?” he asks out of desperation because he so lonely, and he needs to feel her love and her warmth.

“It’s late, Jungkook. I’m busy.” he understands it. She’s been busy, but it’s been so long since he’s been with her physically and she keeps on being distant.

He’s starting to break, his face falls, and his voice hardens at her sudden coldness.

“Busy with what?” he demands, the sharpness in his voice surprising even himself. he gripped the phone tighter and waits for her response with a thumping heartbeat.

There’s a pause, long enough for unease to settle in his gut. “Work,” she finally says, but the word feels rehearsed, flat.

“Bullshit.” He stands, pacing the small living room. “You’re lying to me.” he knows that she’s lying. Does she really think that he’s that stupid?

“Excuse me?” Her tone hardens, defensive.

“You’ve been distant for weeks,” he says, his voice rising. “The late nights, the dodged questions, the way you look at me like I’m a stranger. If there’s something you’re hiding, Mina, I deserve to know.”

She exhales sharply, a sound halfway between frustration and guilt. “You’re paranoid, Jungkook. You’re always at work, always chasing some killer. Maybe the problem isn’t me—it’s you.”

“That’s not an answer,” he snaps. “You think I don’t notice the way you’re pulling away? The phone calls you don’t take around me? If you don’t want to be with me, just say it.”

Her silence cuts deeper than any words could.

“You’re impossible,” she finally says, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. “You think everything revolves around you and your job, but you don’t even see what’s right in front of you. Maybe I have been distant, Jungkook, but can you blame me? You’re so wrapped up in your case that there’s no room for anything—or anyone—else.”

He clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms. “You’re deflecting. Just tell me the truth, Mina. Are you seeing someone else?”

Her sharp intake of breath tells him everything he needs to know.

“Mina,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

“I’m not doing this,” she says, and the line goes dead.

Jungkook stares at his phone, his breath coming in ragged bursts. The quiet of the apartment feels suffocating, pressing in on him from all sides. He throws his phone onto the couch and grabs his keys, his mind a whirlwind of anger, betrayal, and something he can’t quite name.

But for a fact, he knows that he’s lost Mina forever. And the realization dawns on him as he stares at his phone screen. He’s alone once again like he has been for a month.

But maybe this time, forever

And it doesn’t take him long to break down in his apartment. He’s so alone and maybe he will be forever. Why can nobody ever love him?

Is he not deserving of love?

•••

The coffee shop is dark except for the faint glow of a single lamp by the counter. You’re wiping down the tables, your movements unhurried, as if you have all the time in the world. The sight of you—calm, grounded—makes something in Jungkook loosen, just slightly.

You look up as he enters, the chime of the bell breaking the silence.

“Jungkook?” you say, surprised. “It’s late. What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, just walks over to the counter and leans against it. “I needed to get out of my head.”

You study him, noting the tension in his jaw, the shadows under his eyes. “Rough day?”

He laughs bitterly. “You could say that.”

The way you look at him, makes his heart flutter in an abnormal way, maybe it’s the loneliness that he’s making behave like this but you’re gaze actually drives him crazy

You hesitate for a moment before stepping around the counter, standing a little closer to him. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” he says quickly, then softens. “I just… I don’t know. Everything feels like it’s falling apart.”

You nod, not pushing him for details. Instead, you reach for the bottle of whiskey you keep hidden behind the counter for nights like this. You pour him a glass and slide it across the table.

“Here,” you say. “On the house.”

He takes a sip, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the turmoil in his mind. “Thanks.”

You sit down beside him, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. But you can feel his eyes on you, heavy and searching.

“You’re always here,” he says suddenly, his voice soft.

“Someone has to be,” you reply, your lips quirking into a small smile.

“You know Y/N? I’m so fucking alone. My girlfriend is probably cheating on me. She doesn’t care about me…. No one cares about me.” His voice breaks on the last sentence.

You look at him with pity and something deeper swimming in your gaze, but he doesn’t know how to pinpoint it, you urge him to continue so he does.

He chuckles, but it’s humorless. “It’s more than that. You don’t know what it means to me, Y/N. Just… knowing there’s someone who gives a damn.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. “Well, you look like you could use someone in your corner.”

He turns to you then, his gaze intense, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The air between you feels charged, electric

“Why do you care so much?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitate, your pulse racing. “Maybe I just like seeing you smile.”

You’re the first person who has ever said that to him, and in that moment, he realizes that your silence is the only silence that doesn’t feel suffocating.

You look at him with such a deep emotion that it makes him go crazy, what are you doing to him? Why do you care about him so much?

You’ve been there for him since day one. You’re so comforting so kind and so nonjudgmental.

You listen to him rant, Complain, but you don’t say anything every time.

The more he looks at you, the more his heart keeps on thumping, inside his chest and alcohol just rushes through his body, and suddenly his pants feel so achingly tight.

The silence between you both is charged with tension, a tension that makes shivers go down his spine, you’re looking at him in a way that has him hallucinating that you want to lure him in.

He just wants to drown in your embrace, feel you in a way that no one has ever, he just wants to bury himself to hilt inside of you so maybe he can feel wanted again, and maybe he will feel safe for once.

His breath hitches, and before either of you can think better of it, his lips crash into yours.

•••

The back room of the café becomes a blur of heat and desperation as you both stumble in while he’s busy, shoving his tongue on your throat. It’s not tender—it’s raw, messy, driven by an ache neither of you can name. He breaks the kiss after it feels like hours, and he dips his head low and you feel his hot wet lips on your neck, His hands are rough against your skin, his lips leaving trails of bruises along your neck.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice breaking as his hands grip your hips. It feels so fucking good. The desperation and the need is driving you insane.

You can feel his muscular body, he’s so perfect. You have dreamed of this moment for the longest time. But you never really thought that it would come true.

But as he kisses your neck, his lips burn on your skin. And that makes you realize that this is your reality. You are finally getting to live your dream.

You moan out his name again breathlessly gripping on his shoulders so tightly as he attacks your neck, whispers of his name leave your mouth, you’re getting breathless, just by him kissing your skin.

That’s how much you want him.

He doesn’t respond with words, only pulls you closer, his movements frantic. It’s as though he’s trying to drown in you, to forget everything outside of this moment.

His scent is so exotic, he’s always smelled so good whenever he’s visited the café, his son is so stronger it surrounds the whole café and right now you’re so close to him. It’s getting you high.

You know that he’s drunk, he’s so fucking drunk and vulnerable, but you cannot bring yourself to stop him, especially not when he pushes your panties down, his lips hot on your collarbones.

How can you bring yourself to stop him when he’s suddenly licking his fingers, as he takes them out you, you stare at him, they’re glistening with his Saliva.

He’s so beautiful and so handsome, and the most sexiest man you’ve ever seen.

You can only encourage him, and you do that, when he finally starts to push his two digits inside of you, your hips buck up.

You’re so fucking wet it’s embarrassing.

He scissors them inside of you, curling them inside your gummy walls, hitting that spot that has you seeing stars, immediately and he’s barely even started

“AGGH…” you moan out loudly, He groans at the sound, sinking his teeth in your neck once again, he’s so needy right now, you feel his body temperature burning.

You’re burning up too.

Jungkook whispers in your ear, “take off my boxers.”

And you do, after that you start stroking his hard thick length, he’s so big, as you stare down at it, you gasp because it’s leaking already and it’s angry.

He’s been neglected for the longest time, you actually hate his girlfriend, but good for you. You get to feel him inside you like this.

He’s hungry for this. As you finally start to do the magic of your hands, he lets out a guttural moan, it’s so loud, and it rings in your ears.

you love the sounds he’s making right now. He sounds so hot almost like an animal in heat.

But he starts fucking your hand furiously, you lift his head up from your neck to look at him and you just want to keep him with you forever

He’s so beautiful.

He’s drooling, his eyes are closed as he feels the pleasure that you are giving him, the pleasure that he’s been denied for the longest time.

“T-Thank you so much for this because you have no idea how much I need this you have no idea how much I need you… yn- ngh… I’ve been dreaming about this… how about you… and you feel so much better than my imagination”

Jungkook cannot wait anymore though, just as he’s close, he wraps your legs around his waist and gently removes your hand, kisses you hard as he shoves his cock in your warm pussy.

“Let me feel your pussy, I need you, baby…” he begs, you grip his shoulders and kiss his cheek. He lets out a shuddering breath once your heat cages him in.

He starts moving his hips at a really fast pace, he’s jackhammering into you, Jungkooks moaning is echoing throughout the back room.

“NGHH mhmm AHHHG…. AHHH…”

The pleasure that you’re feeling right now is the most that you’ve ever felt in your life and you never knew that you could feel this good while having sex.

The sex with him is feeling so hot, so good and so fucking raw.

He’s so big you can see it bulging from inside of you, you gasp.

“Cum… please Cum inside me.”

You press desperate kisses on his neck, and on the hollow of his throat He’s so vocal about this. So hot. And then he lets out a desperate mewl as he cums inside your cunt.

It’s hot, thick and full as he fills you up to brim.

But it’s starts leaking out because it’s so much, you can feel it running down your thighs.

“You felt a-ah… so fuckin good, yn.”

When it’s over, the two of you lie tangled together on the worn couch, your breaths mingling in the quiet.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, his voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, resting a hand on his chest. “Don’t apologize.”

He looks at you, his eyes searching for something he can’t find.

“You’re not alone, Jungkook,” you say softly. “Not anymore.”

But as he drifts off to sleep, your words echo in his mind, and unease curls in his chest.

•••

The first rays of sunlight filter through the cracks in the blinds, casting faint streaks across the cramped backroom of the café. The room is quiet, save for the sound of Jungkook's breathing. He lies awake on the couch, staring at the ceiling, your head resting on his chest, your arm draped over him like a lifeline.

The memories of the night before play in his mind on an endless loop-your soft moans, the way your body had responded to his touch, how you had whispered his name like a prayer. He feels a pang of guilt, but not for what he did. He doesn't regret it. Not the way your warmth had pulled him from the cold void he'd been living in, not the way you made him forget the weight of the world for a few fleeting hours.

What eats at him is the realization that he used you-your body, your kindness, your feelings— for his own selfish needs. And yet, as much as the guilt gnaws at him, a darker truth lingers: it had felt so good. You had felt so good.

Your breathing changes, pulling him from his thoughts. You stir slightly, your fingers twitching against his chest before you lift your head to meet his gaze.

"Good morning," you say softly, your voice thick with sleep.

He swallows hard, unsure of what to say.

“Morning,” he replies, his voice quieter than he intends.

You sit up slowly, the blanket slipping from your shoulders as you adjust yourself on the edge of the couch. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of what happened between you hanging in the air.

“Are you okay?” you ask finally, breaking the silence.

“I don't know,” he admits, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

You bite your lip, looking down at your lap. "Last night..."

“Wasn't supposed to happen,” he says, cutting you off.

You flinch slightly but force a small smile. “I know,” you murmur.

He sighs deeply, sitting up and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don't regret it,” he says finally, his voice low.

Your head snaps up, your eyes wide with surprise.

“I don't regret being with you,” he continues, his tone softening. “But I regret... I regret that I used you. That I let my emotions... my loneliness take over. You didn't deserve that.”

You shake your head, reaching out to touch his arm. “Jungkook, you didn't use me. I wanted it too.”

He looks at you, his dark eyes filled with conflict.

“I know you did. But that doesn't make it right.”

You hold his gaze, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his expression. “It's not wrong either,” you whisper.

He exhales sharply, standing up and pulling on his jacket. “I need to think," he mutters. “I need to figure out what I'm doing.”

Jungkook walks through the quiet streets, the early morning chill biting at his skin. His mind is a storm of emotions-shame, guilt, longing. He knows he should be thinking about Mina, the case, about everything that's been spiraling out of control in his life. But all he can think about is you.

You, with your soft smile and kind eyes. You, who had welcomed him without judgment. You, who had given him a moment of solace in the chaos.

He doesn't regret being with you, but he regrets what it means. He regrets how easily you've slipped into the cracks of his carefully constructed walls.

And yet, even as he walks away, he knows he'll come back to you. He always does.

Meanwhile, you’re feeling the same… after he leaves you at the door as it shuts.

You sit on the couch long after Jungkook has gone, staring at the spot where he had been just minutes before. Your heart feels heavy, conflicted. Last night had been everything you'd ever wanted, but now it feels tainted by his guilt, his regret.

Still, you can't bring yourself to regret it. Not when it had felt so perfect, so right.

But as you move to the front of the café, preparing for the day ahead, you can't shake the feeling that something has shifted between you and Jungkook. And you're not sure if it's for better or worse.

But you do know that this was only the beginning and this is not gonna end ever and you don’t want to.

•••

A month goes by, he hasn’t visited the cafe after that night woth you, he’s started to get over Mina, The investigation starts to grow worse, the killer more mysterious than ever. Jungkook’s focus shifts entirely to the case, but the memory of that night with you lingers, a dangerous distraction. He avoids Mina entirely, his guilt toward her eclipsed by the tangled emotions he feels when he sees you.

It’s only a matter of time before everything comes crashing down.

•••

The night Jungkook slept with you still lingers in his mind, haunting him like a half-remembered dream, a moment of clarity and chaos all at once. He tells himself it was a mistake, that he was drunk, confused, and in need of something—someone—that wasn’t Mina. But he knows deep down, it was more than that. It was the kind of intimacy that made him feel human again, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Yet, when he wakes up the next morning, reality settles back into place. He tries to push you out of his thoughts as he makes his way to work, but every time he passes by the café, he finds himself looking for you, wondering if you’re there. The guilt gnaws at him, but the emptiness inside makes him think about you again, just for a moment.

What Jungkook doesn’t know, what he can’t see, is that the girl behind the counter, the quiet barista with the warm smile, has already made up her mind. You’ve already planned it out.

Mina is your problem now.

Mina never did anything wrong. She never even knew the darkness that lurked beneath your calm exterior. To her, you were just another face behind the counter, the one who always smiled, who always gave her the right change with a soft chuckle. She was just another customer. But that was before you realized she was still with Jungkook, and that was the last straw.

Mina knows about your crush on Jungkook because, on several occasions in the past, Jungkook had brought her with him when he visited the café. It wasn’t frequent, but enough for Mina to catch on to the subtle tension that simmered between you and him.

You hadn’t meant to make it obvious, but every time Jungkook walked into the café, your demeanor shifted. You’d become a little more flustered, your heart would race, and your eyes would light up, especially when he greeted you with that easy smile. It didn’t take much for someone like Mina, who was always looking for cracks in the façade, to notice.

The first time Jungkook brought her in, you did your best to be casual, to act as though you weren’t paying any special attention to him.

But Mina, watching from across the table, saw how you seemed a little more eager, a little more careful with every cup you made for him. She observed how your voice softened when you spoke to him, how your hands trembled just slightly as you handed him his order. It wasn’t hard for her to figure it out: there was something more than just friendship between you two, even if it was unspoken.

After that day, Mina started coming in more frequently when she knew Jungkook would be there.

She made a point of sitting at a table near the counter, watching the subtle interactions between you two, almost like a game. It gave her a sense of satisfaction—of control—to see how much you cared for him, how much you tried to hide it.

What really gave Mina the final piece of the puzzle was the day Jungkook brought her in again. This time, the way you interacted with him was different. You didn’t hide your feelings as well. You weren’t as guarded. Maybe you thought Jungkook had stopped noticing, that you could just be yourself around him without it being awkward, but Mina saw through it.

She watched you smile at him a little too brightly, watched how your voice softened when you said his name.

That’s when she knew. She had been right all along.

From that point forward, Mina began to play with this knowledge, poking at you, dropping little comments here and there about Jungkook. It wasn’t out of genuine interest in your well-being.

No, Mina was the type who thrived on power, on knowing things others didn’t. She knew you had feelings for Jungkook, and she wasn’t above using that against you.

Mina wasn’t a regular customer, but she made it a point to come by whenever she knew Jungkook would be there. She’d sit back, watch, and wait for you to slip up—because she knew it wouldn’t be long before you showed just how much you cared.

You watch her from the back of the café, your fingers tightening around the edge of the counter as she orders another coffee, laughs too loudly at something a friend says, her smile a little too bright.

You’re not the type to go unnoticed, not anymore. You’ve made sure of it. But this girl? She’s everything you’re not. Beautiful, untainted. Her life is easy—untainted by secrets or shame. But that life is a lie. And she doesn’t deserve it.

The tension builds like a slow-burning fuse as the afternoon wears on. Your hand shakes as you wipe down the counter, the hum of the coffee machine loud in your ears.

Mina doesn’t know how much you hate her. Doesn’t know that she’s the one thing standing between you and what you’ve convinced yourself is yours. Jungkook.

The thought of him with her, the way he always turns to her in the café, makes your stomach twist. You wish she’d just disappear. So, that’s exactly what you’ll do.

•••

The café is quiet as you lock up for the night.

The faint hum of the city lingers in the distance, but it doesn't reach your small sanctuary.

It's been a month since the night with Jungkook, and though he hasn't been back to the café in days, the memory of him is enough to send a shiver through your body.

You've noticed changes-small ones at first. A nauseous unease in the mornings, a fatigue that you can't shake. Tonight, though, you can't ignore the obvious anymore. Your period is late

far too late.

When you get home, you head straight for the drawer where you hid the pregnancy test. It had been an impulsive purchase a few days ago, something you hadn't wanted to face until you

absolutely had to.

The bathroom feels impossibly quiet as you take the test, sitting on the edge of the tub and waiting for the results. Seconds stretch into an eternity. When the lines appear, bold and unmistakable, the air leaves your lungs.

Your mind races. The weight of the word sinks into your chest. It's him. Jungkook. That night.

The night when everything felt like it could finally belong to you. But now, this?

Panic bubbles inside you, but it's swallowed by something darker, more visceral.

Mina's face flashes in your mind, and it's as if the pregnancy test has turned her shadow into a living, breathing entity. She's always there, always hovering around the edges of your thoughts, a reminder of what you'll never truly have.

She broke up with Jungkook that night. You've pieced that much together. She left him, but her presence still looms over you.

It's her fault you feel this way. Her fault that Jungkook can't be entirely yours.

Before you realize it, you're out the door again, the pregnancy test left abandoned on the counter. The idea takes root in your mind with terrifying clarity.

Mina's address isn't hard to find. She used to post pictures from home-soft, curated glimpses of her perfect life.

The city streets blur as you drive. Your fingers tighten on the wheel as adrenaline floods your veins.

When you pull up to her house, the world feels unnervingly still. The house is modest but exudes her curated style, clean and pristine. A pang of rage surges through you.

You knock softly at first. When there's no response, you knock louder, your fist trembling against the wood. Finally, the door opens.

Mina stands there in a loose sweatshirt and leggings, her hair tied back, and her expression instantly hardens when she sees you.

“What are you doing here?” she says sharply, her voice cutting through the air.

You don't answer. You push past her, stepping into her living room without waiting for an invitation. She whirls around, glaring at you.

“Excuse me?” Mina snaps, her hands on her hips. "You can't just barge in here-"

But you're not listening. Your focus sharpens as you glance around the room, taking in the perfection of it all. Everything she's built, everything she's taken from you without even knowing it.

“You ruined him,” you say suddenly, your voice low and trembling.

Mina freezes, her brows furrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“You don't deserve him,” you continue, stepping closer. The words spill out, raw and jagged. You never did. You threw him away.”

Mina's eyes widen, and for the first time, there's a flicker of unease in her expression. “Are you insane?” she says, backing up slightly. “This has nothing to do with you.”

But it does. It has everything to do with you.

The knife is in your pocket, cold and heavy against your palm as you pull it out. Mina's eyes go wide, and she lets out a sharp gasp.

“Y/N, stop. What are vou doing?” she says, her voice trembling now, you see fear in her eyes, and that is so satisfying

“I'm taking back what's mine,” you whisper, stepping forward.

Mina screams as you lunge, but she's fast. Her nails rake across your arm as she tries to push you away, drawing blood. The knife slips from your grasp briefly, clattering to the floor, and the two of you struggle, crashing into the coffee table.

She fights harder than you expected. Her fists hit your sides, her nails digging into your skin.

But your rage is stronger, a blinding force that drives you forward.

Finally, you grab the knife again, plunging it into her chest. The scream chokes in her throat, her hands flailing weakly as you press the blade deeper.

The fight leaves her body, her eyes glazing over as she crumples to the floor.

You stand there, panting, your body trembling with adrenaline. Blood pools around her, staining the pristine floor, and it's then you notice the streaks of red on yor wn arms.

Her nails. She scratched you.

Your breath quickens as the reality sets in. You grab a dishcloth from the kitchen, wrapping it around your arm to staunch the bleeding.

You leave quickly, your mind racing. The blood you've left behind is a risk, but it's done now.

She's gone.

As you drive away, the silence in the car feels deafening. You glance at your bandaged arm, your chest heaving with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

It's over. She's gone.

But the faint, nagging thought of the blood you've left behind lingers in the back of your mind, a seed of doubt that you can't shake.

•••

The next day, Jungkook’s phone rings with the news. Mina’s body is found in at her home reported by the neighbors, discarded like a broken toy. The details of her murder are grisly—so much blood, so many signs of a struggle. But there’s something more. Something that gnaws at him,

He doesn’t know it yet, And Jungkook has no idea how close he is to the one thing he’s been hunting.

As he visits the scene of the crime, his heart heavy with guilt over his own sins, the truth starts to swirl around him, each clue pulling him closer to you. But you are always just one step ahead.

And you’re not finished yet.

•••

Jungkook stands at the edge of the crime scene, Mina’s home. Familiar home, his mind racing as he watches the forensic team finish their work. Mina’s body has been taken away, but something about the scene feels unfinished—unnerving. As the team packs up, the lingering sense of wrongness creeps into his chest.

He takes a few more steps into the room, his eyes scanning every inch.

The silence is heavy, thick with the smell of blood, and something else, something he can’t quite place. He feels like he’s being watched even though he’s the only one left. His gut instinct tells him there’s more to find, something hidden beneath the surface.

“Detective Jeon,” a voice calls out, pulling him from his thoughts. He turns to see Officer Lee, the junior detective, holding a small evidence bag.

“What is it?” Jungkook asks, his voice tight with impatience.

“Sir,” Lee continues, stepping closer. “We found something odd in the kitchen area, near the counter. It’s fresh blood, but it doesn’t match the scene at all. It’s… different.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “What do you mean, different?”

Lee’s face shifts, his expression nervous. “It’s not the same consistency as the blood we’ve been seeing from the victims. It seems… newer, almost as if it wasn’t part of the original violence.”

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. The blood. It’s almost like the killer made a mistake. He follows Lee to the kitchen, where they find the dark stain on the floor. It’s small but unmistakable, a sharp contrast against the faded red of the rest of the scene.

He kneels down, his gloved fingers brushing the edges of the stain. The blood is darker than what they’ve seen from the victim, almost as though it’s been there for some time—but that doesn’t make sense. He knew Mina was killed just hours ago.

“Is this from the victim?” Jungkook asks, still focused on the stain.

“We don’t think so,” Lee replies, his tone uncertain. “It’s not consistent with the rest of the scene.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “It looks fresh.”

His instincts kick in. Something is off, and he knows it’s not just the stain. His gaze lingers on the blood. He needs to know more. If this is part of the same pattern, then they’re dealing with something entirely different.

“Send it to forensics,” he orders. “Get it tested immediately. I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Hours pass before Jungkook finds himself in the sterile white of the forensics lab, waiting as the technician works quickly to process the blood sample they’ve retrieved from the crime scene.

He stands by, his mind on edge, feeling the pull of the unknown tightening its grip. The room is quiet, save for the hum of machinery and the faint clicking of keyboards as the technician runs the test.

Finally, the technician hands Jungkook a printed report. Jungkook takes it with a calmness he doesn’t feel, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he scans the document.

The results are like a slap in the face.

The blood—this blood—belongs to a woman.

His chest tightens as he rereads the details. But it’s not just any woman. The test shows the presence of hormone levels consistent with early pregnancy.

A pregnant woman.

The words blur before his eyes. His mind struggles to make sense of it. Pregnant? How could it be?

This isn’t just some random woman who happened to get involved in the case. This is a pregnant woman. The kind of detail that changes everything.

He stares at the report in stunned silence. Mina’s murder doesn’t fit with any of the previous patterns, but this… this is a whole new level of complexity. And, despite his growing confusion, Jungkook can’t shake the nagging thought that the killer might be someone unexpected—someone who’s been hiding in plain sight.

Jungkook’s mind races as he pieces everything together. The fact that the blood belongs to a pregnant woman is huge. It feels like a lead that could take him in an entirely new direction, but there’s something else gnawing at him. A suspicion he can’t quite shake.

It’s the note he found on Mina’s body. The strange connection between the killings. Every victim has had a twisted background, all male, all with histories of violence or crime. But Mina… she was an exception. A woman. And she wasn’t involved in the same kind of criminal activity.

His gut is telling him something isn’t right. He’s seen this before—when his intuition is pushing him toward an answer, even when he doesn’t have all the pieces. And now, with this new revelation about the blood, that nagging feeling is only growing stronger.

Could the killer be a woman? Could the killer be pregnant? The thought unsettles him, but it makes sense. Perhaps this is the killer’s twist—targeting those who have wronged others, who’ve hurt people in the most vicious ways, while hiding behind a carefully crafted disguise.

As he stands there, staring at the test results, a chilling realization slowly begins to creep in. He hasn’t even begun to connect the dots. He hasn’t yet put it all together.

And the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes the one thing that’s been staring him in the face all along: someone close to him could be hiding this terrible secret.

But he doesn’t know who that is yet.

The blood. The pregnancy. The mysterious nature of Mina’s death—everything points to a killer who’s been hidden from view. Someone who’s not just playing a part in this sick game but is actively controlling the strings.

Jungkook takes one last look at the report in his hand. The piece of paper seems to burn with the weight of its revelation.

“Pregnant,” he mutters under his breath, the word tasting bitter in his mouth. “Who could it be?”

Jungkook’s thoughts are muddled. He hasn’t even considered the possibility that someone he knows could be involved. But the facts keep leading him in that direction.

With every passing second, the answer feels closer, yet farther away. All Jungkook knows for certain is that this case is far more complicated than he ever imagined.

And the killer is closer than he thinks.

•••

That night? he decides to visit his favorite coffee place again

The café is dimly lit, the warm golden glow of the overhead lights casting long shadows across the empty tables. It’s late—well past closing time for most places—but you’re still here. You’ve started staying later than usual, lingering in the quiet of your sanctuary, unable to go home to the lingering guilt of what you’ve done.

You’re wiping down the counter when the bell above the door chimes. The sound startles you, breaking through the silence. When you look up, it’s him.

Jungkook.

He’s standing in the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. It’s been a month since that night, and he hasn’t been back since. Seeing him now feels like a punch to the chest, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

“Jungkook,” you say softly, your voice barely audible. “You’re here again after a long time..”

He offers a small, tired smile as he steps inside, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. “Hey,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “I know it’s late… but are you still making coffee?”

You nod quickly, trying to push down the rising emotions threatening to choke you. “Of course. For you? Always.”

He sits at his usual spot near the counter, leaning back in the chair as he watches you move around the machine. The silence between you is thick, weighted with everything unsaid.

As you hand him the cup, his fingers brush against yours. The contact is brief but electric, sending a shiver up your spine. He takes a sip, his eyes closing as he lets out a soft sigh.

“This is exactly what I needed,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

You can’t hold it in anymore. The words burst from your lips before you can stop them. “I need to tell you something.”

He looks up at you, his brows furrowing slightly. “What is it?”

Your hands tremble as you grip the counter for support. You’ve been rehearsing this in your head for days, but now, with him sitting there, the reality of it feels overwhelming.

“I’m… I’m pregnant,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, his expression is unreadable. He sets the cup down slowly, staring at you like he’s trying to piece together what you just said.

“What?” he says finally, his voice low and filled with disbelief.

You swallow hard, nodding. “It’s yours, Jungkook. From that night.”

His breath hitches, and he leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Pregnant,” he repeats, almost to himself. The weight of the revelation sinks in, his eyes flicking to your stomach before meeting your gaze again.

“That’s… that’s a lot to process,” he says finally, his tone careful.

“But.. promise that I won’t abandon you… I will take full responsibility.. don’t worry… I’m so sorry”

You’re about to say something—anything to break the tension—when his gaze drops to your arm. His brows knit together as he notices the faint, raw scratches peeking out from beneath your sleeve.

“What happened to your arm?” he asks, his tone shifting, more alert now.

Your heart skips a beat, panic rising in your chest. You pull your sleeve down instinctively, hiding the marks. “It’s nothing,” you say quickly, too quickly.

He doesn’t look convinced. His eyes narrow slightly as he studies you. “Those look fresh,” he says, his voice sharp. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No,” you say firmly, forcing a laugh. “I’m just clumsy, that’s all.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately. He just watches you, his gaze searching, like he’s trying to read the truth in your expression.

“Y/N,” he says finally, his voice soft but insistent. “If something’s going on, you need to tell me.”

You shake your head, plastering on a smile that feels more like a mask. “It’s nothing, really. You don’t have to worry.”

But he doesn’t look convinced. His jaw tightens, and he leans forward slightly, his fingers drumming against the edge of the table.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low.

You nod quickly, avoiding his gaze. “I promise. Everything’s fine.”

He doesn’t press further, but the tension in the air is palpable. You can feel his eyes on you as you turn away, pretending to busy yourself with cleaning.

The rest of the conversation is stilted, awkward. He finishes his coffee quickly, his movements stiff and deliberate.

“I should go,” he says finally, standing up and sliding the cup toward you. “Thanks for the coffee.”

You nod, forcing a smile as you watch him leave. The door swings shut behind him, and the silence that follows is deafening.

You lean against the counter, your legs trembling beneath you. The scratches on your arm burn as if in reminder. You knew this moment would come, but now that it has, you feel the weight of everything crashing down around you.

He doesn’t suspect you—not yet. But the way he looked at you, the questions he asked… it’s only a matter of time.

•••

Jungkook sits at his desk in the dimly lit precinct, the case file for Mina’s murder spread out before him. His mind is a storm, every detail looping back to the one piece of evidence he can’t shake—the fresh blood at the crime scene, identified as belonging to a pregnant woman.

He had brushed it off at first, thinking maybe it was some unknown accomplice or a bizarre twist in the killer’s pattern. But now, after his late-night visit to the café, everything feels like it’s coming together in ways he wishes it wouldn’t.

His hands clench into fists as he remembers Y/N’s confession.

And then there were the scratches.

They’d looked raw, fresh—exactly like the kind of defensive wounds a victim might leave behind. He tries to dismiss the thought. It’s Y/N, he tells himself. Sweet, shy Y/N, who wouldn’t hurt a fly. But the evidence won’t let him go.

The blood. The scratches. Her sudden nervousness, the way she pulled her sleeve down, the way she avoided his eyes when he asked her about it.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He doesn’t want to believe it—doesn’t even want to entertain the thought. But as an inspector, he knows he can’t ignore the signs.

He flips through the photos from the crime scene, his eyes lingering on the smear of blood leading away from Mina’s body. The forensic team had confirmed it didn’t belong to Mina, and it wasn’t old enough to have been left by anyone else.

It had to be the killer’s.

He leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. His mind races with conflicting thoughts—his duty to the case, his growing feelings for Y/N, and the sickening possibility that they might be connected in ways he can’t yet comprehend.

“Jeon,” his partner calls from across the room, breaking his train of thought. “Anything new?”

Jungkook shakes his head, snapping the file shut. “No,” he lies. “Still piecing it together.”

But inside, he knows he can’t ignore this.

The next night, Jungkook finds himself back at the café. It’s late again, and the streets are quiet, save for the occasional hum of a passing car. He tells himself he’s just here for coffee, to clear his head. But deep down, he knows that’s not true.

Y/N is behind the counter, her movements slower than usual, as if weighed down by something unseen. She startles when she sees him walk in, her eyes wide, but she quickly masks it with a smile.

“Back again?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly.

He nods, offering a small smile of his own. “Couldn’t stay away. You make the best coffee, remember?”

She laughs softly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. He watches her closely as she moves, noticing the way she avoids his gaze, the way she keeps her sleeves tugged down over her wrists.

When she sets the cup in front of him, he doesn’t drink right away. Instead, he leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter.

“Y/N,” he says softly, his voice steady but probing.

She looks up at him, her smile faltering. “Yeah?”

“You never told me how you got those scratches,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Her breath catches, and he sees the flicker of panic in her expression before she quickly masks it. “I told you,” she says lightly. “I’m clumsy.”

“Clumsy enough to leave marks like that?” he presses, his gaze unrelenting.

Her hands tremble slightly as she picks up a cloth and starts wiping down the counter. “Why are you asking?” she says, her tone defensive.

He leans back, his jaw tightening. “Just curious. You know, with everything going on… people getting hurt. Makes me worry.”

She doesn’t respond, her focus fixed on the counter. The tension between them is thick, the silence stretching uncomfortably.

“I’m fine,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Jungkook isn’t convinced. Every instinct in him is screaming that something is wrong, that she’s hiding something. And yet, despite everything, a part of him doesn’t want to believe it.

“Okay,” he says finally, his tone softening. “If you say so.”

But as he leaves the café that night, the weight of his suspicions feels heavier than ever. The blood, the scratches, her nervousness—it all lines up too perfectly to ignore.

Jungkook walks slowly back to his car, his mind swirling with thoughts he doesn’t want to entertain. He stops just short of the driver’s seat, leaning against the door and staring at the dark street ahead.

The Y/N he knows—the one he’s been drawn to, the one who seemed so kind, so unassuming—couldn’t possibly be capable of this. Could she?

He slams his fist lightly against the roof of the car, frustration boiling under his skin. He doesn’t want to doubt her. But the evidence doesn’t lie.

That same night, Jungkook decides to dive deeper into the case. He returns to the precinct and retrieves the forensic report on the blood found at Mina’s home. He’s read it before, but now, with fresh eyes, he scans the details again.

The report confirms it: the blood belongs to a pregnant woman. The realization sends a chill down his spine.

Jungkook rubs a hand over his face, exhaustion creeping in as he tries to piece it all together. The killer had left no other trace—no prints, no DNA—just this blood. It was careless, uncharacteristic of someone who had been so meticulous with the other murders.

Why now? he wonders.

The connection feels tenuous at best, but the scratches on Y/N’s arm flash in his mind again, and he can’t ignore the unease building in his chest.

“Jeon,” his partner calls from his desk, interrupting his thoughts. “You’re still here? Go home, man. You’ve been at this for weeks.”

Jungkook forces a nod, shutting the file and grabbing his coat. “Yeah, I’m going,” he mutters.

But he doesn’t go home.

Instead, he drives back to Mina’s house, parking a short distance away and stepping out into the cold night. The crime scene has long since been cleared, but he needs to see it again, needs to feel it.

The house looms dark and silent, a grim reminder of what had happened within its walls. He steps closer, his boots crunching against the gravel as he shines his flashlight across the ground.

And then he sees it—a faint stain on the walkway leading away from the house.

His heart pounds as he kneels down, pulling on gloves and carefully swabbing the dried blood. It’s faint but fresh enough to have gone unnoticed during the initial sweep.

He stands, staring at the swab in his hand. It could be nothing, a stray smear left behind by someone from the forensics team. But it could also be something.

Someone.

As he slips the evidence into a bag, his mind circles back to Y/N. The scratches. Her sudden announcement. The way she seemed so on edge, so unlike herself.

The thought makes his stomach twist painfully. He doesn’t want to believe it, but the pieces are falling into place, and the picture they’re forming is one he can’t ignore.

He gets back into his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His next steps are clear: have the blood tested again, cross-reference it, and get answers.

But for now, he sits in the dark, staring out at the empty street,

Caught between his duty as an inspector and the growing fear that the woman he’s falling for might be the one he’s been chasing all along.

•••

It’s been days since Jungkook swabbed the blood at Mina’s crime scene. Days of sleepless nights, staring at reports, running DNA tests, and trying to ignore the tightening noose of suspicion around Y/N.

The results came back that morning. The blood is a match. A match for the mysterious pregnant killer. A match for Y/N, You.

The words on the report burn into his mind, but he can’t bring himself to process them fully. Instead, he spends hours driving aimlessly through Seodaemun-gu, circling back to the café before stopping outside Y/N’s small apartment.

He’s not sure what he’s going to say, or do. The woman he’s fallen for—who is carrying his child—has killed at least eighteen people, including Mina. But the thought of turning you in feels like a betrayal he’s incapable of.

Jungkook climbs the steps to your door, his heart pounding so hard he’s sure you’ll hear it the moment he knocks.

The door opens almost immediately, and Y/N’s face lights up in surprise. “Jungkook,” you say softly, but there’s a tension in your voice, as if you’ve been expecting this moment.

He steps inside without asking, closing the door behind him. His eyes scan the room, searching for something—anything that might confirm what he already knows.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you say, your voice low. You move to the small kitchen, your movements stiff.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “We need to talk.”

You freeze, your back to him, her hand resting on the counter. “About what?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead stepping closer. “You already know what.”

Y/N turns to face him, Your expression guarded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jungkook.”

“Don’t,” he says, his tone sharper than he intends. He exhales slowly, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I know, Y/N. About Mina. About all of it.”

Your face pales, and for a moment, you doesn’t respond. Then you cross your arms, your gaze steady but wary. “You’re mistaken,” you say evenly.

“I’m not,” he replies. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the forensic report, dropping it onto the table. “This is your blood. At Mina’s house. You were there.”

Y/N’s breath catches, and you looks down at the report, your hands trembling. “It’s not what you think,” you whisper,

“Then tell me what it is!” His voice rises, the frustration and desperation spilling out. “Because the evidence says you killed her, Y/N. It says you’ve killed all of them.”

She doesn’t deny it. Instead, she steps back, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as if to steady herself. “I did it,” she says quietly, her voice breaking. “But they deserved it, Jungkook. Every single one of them.”

He stares at her, the weight of her confession hitting him like a freight train. “Mina didn’t deserve it,” he says, his voice hollow.

Her eyes fill with tears, and she shakes her head. “She broke you, Jungkook. She hurt you. And I couldn’t—”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” he shouts, his voice cracking with emotion. “You had no right!”

Silence falls between them, heavy and suffocating. Y/N’s tears spill over, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t try to defend herself further.

Jungkook rubs a hand over his face, his thoughts spiraling. He knows what he should do—what his duty demands. But when he looks at her, at the woman carrying his child, he feels nothing but agony.

“I’m pregnant,” she says suddenly, her voice trembling.

“I know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“SERIOUSLY YN What the fuck have you done? I fell in love with a psychotic killer. FUCK!”

She flinches at his tone, her tears falling harder. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she says, her voice cracking. “I just, I couldn’t let them keep hurting people. I couldn’t let her keep hurting you.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, her words tearing through him. When he finally looks at her again, his expression is unreadable. “Do you understand what you’ve done?” he asks, his voice quiet but laced with pain.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“You’ve destroyed everything,” he says, his voice breaking.

She sobs, collapsing into a chair. “I didn’t mean to destroy you, Jungkook. I—”

“You didn’t destroy me,” he cuts her off, his tone icy. “You destroyed us.”

The room falls silent again, the weight of his words suffocating them both.

Finally, he speaks, his voice hollow. “I can’t turn you in, Y/N. I should, but I can’t. Because I—” He stops himself, shaking his head as if to dispel the thought. “But I need you to know that what you’ve done… it’s unforgivable.”

She looks up at him, her tear-streaked face full of anguish. “Then what happens now?”

Jungkook stares at her for a long moment, his jaw clenched, his hands trembling. “I don’t know,” he says finally, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know.”

And with that, he turns and walks out, leaving her alone with her guilt and the devastating weight of what she’s done.

•••

He takes a lot of Days to think about what he’s gonna do next, the truth is that he’s fallen too deeply in love with you to turn you in especially since he found out that you’re pregnant and as fucked up as it sounds, but the way you confessed to him that you killed Mina because she had hurt him,

It switched something inside him.. no one has ever gone that far for him.

You’re expecting his child

He has to do something to save you. He cannot turn you in no matter what.

So he decides to do something, a week later.

Jungkook sits alone in his car, parked a block away from the station. The stack of case files sits on the passenger seat, the details of eighteen brutal murders outlined in gruesome detail. At the top of the stack is Mina’s file.

The weight of what he’s about to do crushes his chest, but he’s made his decision.

If you go down, you take his child with you. You take him with you.

He exhales sharply, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. He’s always been a by-the-book cop, but the moment he fell for Y/N, that part of him started to crumble. Now, he’s about to destroy what’s left of it.

He enters the station with confidence and a mask.

The precinct buzzes with energy as Jungkook walks in, the familiar hum of chatter and clacking keyboards filling the air. His partner, Detective Choi, greets him with a nod.

“Got something for me, Jeon?” Choi asks, leaning back in his chair.

Jungkook sets the files down on his desk, forcing a calm expression. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ve been looking into a lead.”

Choi raises an eyebrow. “A lead? We’ve been spinning our wheels on this for months. What kind of lead?”

Jungkook opens Mina’s file, pulling out the report he fabricated the night before. He had spent hours doctoring evidence, crafting a story that would absolve Y/N of suspicion.

“This,” he says, handing the report to Choi.

Choi scans the document, his expression shifting from skepticism to curiosity. “A drug connection?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook lies smoothly. “I traced the source of the drug found in all the victims to a trafficking ring operating out of Incheon. It’s messy, but I think one of their enforcers is responsible for the killings.”

Choi frowns, flipping through the pages. “An enforcer who kills eighteen people, including Mina, and just disappears?”

“That’s the thing,” Jungkook says, leaning in. “I think they’ve already been eliminated. Internal cleaning. It explains why the killings stopped after Mina’s case.”

It’s a bold lie, but Jungkook delivers it with conviction, weaving in just enough plausible details to make it stick. He knows Choi is sharp, but he also knows his partner is tired of this case. They all are.

Choi nods slowly, handing the report back. “It’s a stretch, but it tracks. You’re saying we close this case on the assumption the killer’s dead?”

Jungkook shrugs, feigning indifference. “Unless you’ve got a better lead, I don’t see another option. The evidence lines up. It’s messy, but it fits.”

Choi exhales heavily, rubbing his temples. “Fine. I’ll run it by the chief.”

•••

The reaction is mixed. Some detectives are relieved to put the case behind them, satisfied with Jungkook’s explanation. Others grumble about loose ends and unanswered questions, but no one presses too hard.

“Good work, Jeon,” the chief says, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ve been on this for months. Go home. Get some rest.”

Jungkook forces a smile, nodding. “Thanks, chief.”

As he walks out of the precinct, he feels the weight of his actions settle over him. He’s betrayed his badge, his oath, and every victim in this case.

But he’s saved you.

But there’s still a lot of loose ends that he needs to tie up, especially to convince his department that the pregnant woman was a pawn.

He needs to do something really convincing, and soon because time is running out.

•••

After a lot of days later, you’re almost now almost two pregnant, Jungkook hasn’t visited you after that confrontation and you think that maybe he’s abandoned you and maybe he’s gonna arrest you but you’re ready to pay for your sins.

You know what you were getting into when you decided to do this and you don’t regret killing any one of them.

Especially not Mina

Only if you had any idea… about what is happening around you…

 The apartment is quiet when Jungkook arrives. The air feels thick with tension, the kind that comes from unsaid words, from everything that’s been building up for weeks, months even.

He’s been here before, countless times, but tonight feels different. It’s as if the weight of everything that’s happened has finally caught up to him. The lies. The murder. The twisted love you’ve both been hiding from.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table when he walks in, a cup of cold coffee in front of you, untouched. The dim light casts long shadows across your face,

making you look almost ethereal, but there’s a darkness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen before. He doesn’t know whether it’s the guilt or the truth that lingers between you both, but it’s there. It’s palpable.

You don’t stand up when he enters. You don’t even look at him at first. Instead, your fingers trace the rim of the cup absentmindedly, like you’re lost in thought, deciding what to say. Or maybe deciding if you should say anything at all.

“You’re here,” you say finally, your voice quiet, almost resigned. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

Jungkook closes the door behind him, his breath heavy. The sight of you is almost too much to bear.

He feels the pull, the urgency of everything that’s been building up since that night at the café. But there’s something else too. Something darker. The guilt. The secret he’s been keeping. The knowledge that he’s closing his eyes to the truth.

“I had to,” he replies, his voice hoarse. His eyes move to you, scanning your face, trying to find the woman he once thought he understood, the one who wasn’t a murderer. But now, nothing seems as simple as it once did.

You finally look up, your eyes meeting his, and for a brief moment, he sees it. The crack in your facade. The vulnerability that you’ve been hiding. But it’s fleeting. Quickly masked by that cold, calculating expression he’s learned to fear.

“You did what you had to?” you echo, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. “Funny. I didn’t know I was something you had to protect.”

Your stomach twists, guilt washing over you as you feel the weight of your words. The truth that he’s been avoiding hits you like a punch to the gut.

“I didn’t want to…,” he starts, his words faltering. “I didn’t want any of this. But I couldn’t let you go. Not after everything.”

You smile, but it’s not a smile at all. It’s a mask. A shield you’ve put up, but he sees through it. Just like he’s starting to see through everything you’ve done.

“Why didn’t you let me go, Jungkook?” you ask, standing slowly, your eyes never leaving his. You take a step toward him, the space between you narrowing with every heartbeat. “Because of your guilt? Or because you want me? Because you want us?”

Jungkook feels the heat rising in his chest, his body tense, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He wants to deny it, wants to tell you that it’s not like that, but the truth is too raw to ignore. He’s in too deep. He’s in love with you.

“I…” he hesitates, struggling with the words that seem impossible to say. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Y/N. But I want you. More than anything.”

The words hang in the air between you both, thick with tension. You step closer, the space between you vanishing entirely. Your breath is warm against his skin as you raise a hand to his chest, tracing a line down to the hem of his shirt.

“Then why do you keep pretending like this is all just a mistake?” Your voice is soft now, a little breathless, but there’s something in it that makes his heart race even faster. “You know what I’ve done. You know the truth. So why are we still playing this game?”

His chest tightens as he stares into your eyes, the question echoing in his mind. Why are we still playing this game?

He’s already crossed too many lines, already made choices that can’t be undone. He’s in love with you, and that’s the only truth he can hold onto right now. But the guilt, the knowledge of what you’ve done—it’s suffocating him.

“I’m here because I don’t have a choice,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ve already made my choice. And it’s you.”

You look at him, your gaze calculating, but something flickers in your eyes. Relief? Or is it something darker? He can’t tell anymore.

“You don’t have to choose between me and the truth, Jungkook,” you say, stepping even closer until you’re inches apart. “The truth is… we belong together. In everything we’ve done. In everything we’ll do.”

The words send a shiver through him. There’s no going back now. He knows it. You know it.

His hands reach for you, pulling you into him, and your lips meet in a kiss that is desperate and consuming. He’s not thinking anymore. He’s not questioning. He’s just here, with you, drowning in everything that’s pulled you both together.

When you finally break apart, his breath is ragged, his chest heaving. Your hands rest on his shoulders, your eyes dark with something he can’t quite place.

“I’ll do anything for you,” he says, his voice hoarse, the words pouring out of him without thought.

“I know,” you reply softly, your fingers brushing against his neck. “And I’ll do anything for you too. But we have to be honest with each other now. No more lies.”

He nods, the weight of your words sinking into his bones. There’s no turning back now. “Jungkook.. you know it was a big skill investigation rate. How did you even convince your department to close the case tell me what did you do.”

He looks at you and smiles

He’s made his choice.

“Okay fine I will tell you.”

The investigation was closing in, and with each passing day, the walls seemed to close in tighter around Jungkook. The blood—so carefully planted at Mina’s crime scene—was becoming a ticking time bomb, and the pressure to keep Y/N safe weighed heavily on him. His heart hammered in his chest every time the case came up in discussion, and he knew he had to take drastic measures.

He needed to shut it all down. Permanently.

That’s when it hit him: a recently discovered body in a nearby district. A woman—pregnant, recently deceased, and conveniently found under suspicious circumstances. She wasn’t the killer, but to Jungkook, she might as well have been. He could use her to frame the entire investigation.

When Jungkook visited the morgue that night, the body lay still on the cold steel table, a haunting reminder of the fragile line between life and death. The woman had died under mysterious circumstances, no clear motive, no clear suspect. And with her pregnancy, she was the perfect pawn.

Jungkook’s mind raced as he walked around the body, his eyes lingering on her swollen belly, her pale face, the indistinct bruises on her skin that told a story he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know. He felt a sharp pang in his chest, the ghost of guilt flickering behind his thoughts. But there was no time for hesitation. He needed this body.

In his mind, he already had a plan.

He would stage the scene, make it look like this woman was the killer. He’d plant evidence that suggested the woman had been linked to Mina’s death—trace amounts of blood, a few fingerprints in the wrong places. A well-placed piece of clothing or object to tie her to the scene. It was risky, but it was the only way to close the case without implicating Y/N.

The morgue attendant, a sleepy-eyed man who didn’t seem to care much for the dead, handed him the body without question. Jungkook took a deep breath, making sure his hands didn’t shake. He carefully moved the body, knowing exactly what he needed to do.

Hours later, the police were called to a new crime scene. It was the same as always—an empty alleyway with the body of a woman found in a position that suggested something far darker than a random attack. The crime scene looked eerily similar to the previous murders, and that’s exactly what Jungkook had hoped for.

His mind worked quickly, placing the body of the pregnant woman at the scene as though she had been the one to kill Mina. The blood trail leading away from her. A few well-placed items. The evidence was there, but just subtle enough to make it believable.

The next day, Jungkook presented the findings to the department. His colleagues seemed to buy it without much question.

The body of the pregnant woman, found near the alley where Mina had been murdered, in her own home, was identified as the suspect. The evidence—though still sparse—was enough to back up the theory he had fabricated.

“I’ve spoken with forensics,” Jungkook said, standing tall as the room buzzed with suspicion. “The blood found near Mina’s body and the scene where this woman was found confirms our theory. This woman, whoever she was, was clearly involved. And she was pregnant, which explains her connection to the killer we’ve been hunting.”

The room fell silent, the officers looking at each other in confusion. But Jungkook pressed on, pushing the narrative with an authoritative tone.

“She was part of the criminal network, no doubt. This is why the killer used her. She was a pawn, an expendable figure, dragged into something much larger.”

“But with her death, we’ve finally identified her role. She’s the one we were after.”

Jungkook’s voice was steady, rehearsed, convincing. He wasn’t just presenting evidence; he was weaving the story.

One of the officers, a sharp-eyed veteran named Park, raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a skeptical look. “Are you sure, Jeon? This all seems… too neat. A little too perfect.”

Jungkook took a breath, pushing his doubts aside. “We have to tie it up. The evidence is there. It explains everything. And it leads us to believe that the killer is someone who knew how to manipulate the situation. A pregnant woman was used to distract us from the true killer.”

He met Park’s gaze, holding it long enough to send the message. There was no going back now. He had to make this work.

•••

After a lot of deliberation, and no further suspicions or clues, Jungkooks lie worked

But there were too many questions now. How far could he go before his lies caught up to him? Would the department ever suspect him, even if they’d closed the case?

And most importantly, how much longer could he keep this secret—his secret—hidden from everyone, especially from Y/N?

With the department’s approval, Jungkook walked away from the case, his mind heavy with the weight of the lies he’d told. But as whenever he looked at Y/N, the mother of his child, he knew that no matter what it took, he would do whatever it took to keep her from being discovered.

The announcement came in later that day: Case #178-C, the Seodaemun Serial Killings, officially closed.

The case was officially closed. The department was satisfied, the investigation wrapped up, and the media was ready to move on to the next headline. Jungkook, however, couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was unraveling. He had used the body of a pregnant woman, a victim in her own right, to save Y/N��and his own conscience.

And now you two, will be together forever, and it will be your own heaven where no one will ever disturb you both and your growing family.

Everything is fair in love and war after to all

And this was both.

The love stored in his heart and the war of his own conscious, and eventually the love for you and his heart lawn over the war in his conscious.

“So you see, yn? Start packing your bags. You’re moving in with me and we’re gonna get married and have a child and live happily ever after.”

He stares at you with a lot of love in his eyes, but there’s something darker and you recognize it because it’s such a familiar look

A look that you often saw in your own mirror.

You kiss him again and smile against his lips.

You will do anything for him and you know now that he will also do anything for you.

Everything was worth it.

He was always worth it.

And he knows for a fact that you’re always gonna be worth it

[chr0llossexygf]

IN RUINS 2

PAIRING: spencer reid x fem reader

SUMMARY: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn’t have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn’t explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time?

IMPORTANT COMMENT!!!!: hi my pumpkin cupcake stinky wonky pookie bears. IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN A FRAUD! 💔💔 jokes but I’m rlly sorry I haven’t been writing for the past months ive been to the hospital multiple times and also had someone close to me pull a ‘I’m dead’ card on me and then I was oh! BUT I think I’m okay I think I’m better and I’ll start posting more I have a lot of ideas but tbh this one was a draft before allat happened so it’s shit but and I wanted to get rid of it cus it js reminded me of everything that happened before 😭 BUT I’m rlly rlly sorry ITS SO LATE

" why is your mom calling you she hasn't called you in 7 months " scott anderson says rubbing his face repeatedly his fingers shaking, his other hand is in a fist digging his nails in the palm of his hand. he walks away from jj who's tied up on the floor with her feet and hands wrapped in rope. the grip on your phone tightens.

" she's calling me because it was my aunts birthday scott." you say looking at scott in the eyes. he stands up biting his nails. " your lying to me." he says walking to you, his eyes dark. you wish his eyes at-least looked like they had nothing behind them, but his eyes definitely have something behind them.

his eyes look determined. they looked commited. and he’s looking at you. your eyes widen. your hands become sweaty. you take a step back. “ i’m not lying to you scott.” you respond back gently shaking your head. you raise your eyebrows softly smiling at him. “ i wouldn’t lie to you scott.” you say the grip on your hand tightening to the point where your hand is shaking.

his gaze softens for a second, his eyes aren't so dark now. his eyebrows soften. " you wouldn't lie to me y/ n?" he whispers gently walking up to you. you nod gulping, " ¡ wouldn't lie to you scotty" you whisper smiling. he smiles. taking another step towards you. you take a deep breath in.

"y-your doing a great job y/n" spencer's shaky voice speaks into the phone. it's the only thing keeping you sane right now. he sounds nervous. you can hear him gulp repeatedly. he's stuttering a lot right now. he's probably blinking a lot. a habit he has when he's nervous. a habit you've absorbed from afar. " your doing a really really great job y/n. i'm so proud of you." no he shouldn't have said that. he should not have said that. he shouldn't have said that. you tear up. why are you tearing up? you can't tear up right now. not right now. please not right now.

your throat feels heavy. your heart feels heavy. a part of you feels funny. your ears feel funny, never having heard those words before. your brain is trying to process the words. it can't process them. it's funny though. no matter how much insane messed up stuff you've heard on the job none of it really ever seemed to take a toll on you. but hearing those 5 words. it's taking a toll on you. and it's not the right time. why are they so triggering. what are they triggering? the inner child inside of you who never got to hear those words? the teen inside of you who never got to hear those words? or is it adult you who still hadn't heard those words up until now? it's too much. why are you tearing up?

“ why are you crying.” scott says. something in his eyes has changed. oh god. his eyes darken. his eyebrows tighten. he’s shaking his head smiling. “ what is your mom saying? why is she making you cry? do you want me to kill her?” he says with pleading eyes smiling. he’s taking a step towards you. “ or are you not talking to your mom right now…” he mumbles. your eyes widen. you shake your head. “ or…your not calling your mom you bitch!” he shouts taking another step towards you. you don’t have time to react. he grabs you by the neck slamming you against the wall. his hand tightens around your neck.

you choke on your words. the tears that gathered up finally start to fall. your free hand wraps around scott's arm thats choking you. you repeatedly hit his arm. " please stop." you plead shaking your head. his grip tightens on your neck. " your a liar. your just like him." he spits his gaze darkening. he grabs your phone throwing it across the room. it knocks over a glass vase.

"¡'m not like him." you choke out shaking your head. " shut up! yes you are!" he shouts in your voice, spit getting on your face.

" let her go!" ji shouts from the floor. her voice cracks mid sentence. probably due to fear. watching you struggle is affecting her. just watching you struggle makes her feel as though she is the one struggling.

scott turns his head around. " what did you just say?" he says slowly releasing you. you take a deep breath in. you look at scott. another wave of fear hits you. what's he gonna say to jj? what's he gonna do to jj? she shouldn't have said anything. she should've kept quiet. he can't hurt her. you have to do something.

" i said let her go. you can't hurt her. she's what you want right? you can't hurt her. why would you hurt someone you love?" jj says her eyes darting between you and scott. to scott she looks desperate, to you. you know what jj's trying to say with her eyes.' we will be fine. seeing ji look at you like that. a rush of adrenaline hit you. you have got to do something. why are your hands so weak. why do you feel as though you don't have control of your body. why do you feel as though you can't control anything. damn it.

" you show love by hurting the ones you love." he whispers. you slowly reach for the gun in your pocket, trying not to alert him. and god is it hard " y/ n would know." he says chuckling. your so close to the gun. " isn't that right y/n?" he turns around to look at you. he sees your hand. he sees the hand thats reaching for the gun. he grabs your gun. your hand immediately forms into a fist, you punch him in the jaw. he falls back. holding his jaw. " you bitch!" he shouts.

you run to jj. you drop down to your knees. your shaky hands immediately start to undo the knots of the rope. "jj you need to get out." you say out of breathe. your trembling hands making it harder to undo the rope quickly. " no- what. y/n dont. i'm not leaving without you. the team is coming t-they're on their way y/n. ji says shaking her head in denial. her hands are untied. " god jj! i always follow your orders! just follow mine! just this once." you snap back moving onto her legs. you untie her. " get out of here now jj! he wont hurt me jj. hes obsessed with me he wont. trust me." you say nodding.

jj hasn't been a profiler for a long time. anyone else on the team would've called you out for your bullshit right now. if he wanted to hurt you. he definitely would. he would do anything to get you to be obedient. he could probably kill you if he wanted to. but jj doesn't know that. she thinks he's just a stalker who's obsessed with you and probably wouldn't seriously harm you. but you know unsubs like him all too well.

ji stands up running to the door. she opens the door. she turns to look at you again. you look at her and smile. " just go." you mouth. she quickly nods running out and closing the door. a wave of relief washes over you. jj is fine. jj is okay. jj is safe. he can't hurt jj anymore.

your not fine. your not okay. your not safe. he can keep hurting you. you turn around. he's standing right behind you. he's looking down at you. he's standing tall. his eyes are on you. his expression is dark. his eyes are empty. not a single thought behind his eyes. you were wrong. his eyes without a single thought behind them is scarier. because now you know, there's nothing really stopping him. there's no determination. there's no commitment. there's absolutely nothing behind those eyes. those eyes that are just about to do you harm.

“ me looking down on you…does this remind you of anything?” he says tilting his head to the side smiling. you shake your head. but oh boy do you know exactly what he’s talking about. your dad. “ oh right sorry. let me do something that will surely make you remember.” he says chuckling. he crouches down. he punches you right in the eye, your left eye. the one with the healed over stitches. you stiffen at his touch. not just because your scared of him. yeah of course your scared of him. but also because you’ve never had someone touch you in such an intimate place. you’ve never had someone grab your cheek and gently caress your scars.

he starts laughing. " oh my god let me see that" he gently grabs your cheek. tilting your head up towards him. he runs his finger on the scar. " he did that didnt he?" he whispers gently rubbing the scar. " he gave you this scar didnt he? i read it.. in one of your hospital records. he gave you this 2 weeks before he left right?" he whispers gently caressing the scar. your shaky hands reaches for his cheek.

he stiffens at your touch. he's just like you. " he gave this to you..right?" you whisper, gently caressing the cut on his lips. scott nods. " you and me.we are the same y/n. we both grew up in the same households. we both put up the same abuse. we..we are meant for each other y/n. your meant for me. and i'm meant for you." he whispers caressing your cheek gently. you nod.

" yeah.yeah we belong together." you mumble nodding gently.

i thought so too..until i saw a picture of you and your co worker spencer reid together." he whispers softly still smiling. your eyes widen. " w-what." you mumble. he chuckles, " yeah.i saw a picture of you two together. it was when you and your team were working that case in chicago." he whispers tightening his grip on your cheek. you shake your head.

" s-spencer? spencer reid? he-he means absolutely nothing to me." you say gently reaching for his hand. " don't lie to me." he whispers tearing up. " i'm not lying to you scott." you whisper rubbing your thumb gently against his arm. " your lying to

me. all you do is lie. your just like him." he whispers tears rolling down his cheeks. " i'm not like him scott." you whisper shaking your head, trying to calm him.

" your just like him.you lying bitch." he shakes his head standing up, forcefully pulling you up with him. his fingers dig deeply into your cheeks, surely 100% going to leave a mark. but who cares at this point.

" scott just listen to me-' he cuts your desperate cries with a punch to the mouth. you fall down to the floor, on purpose however. you want him to think your weak. your worn out. he can easily control you. he can easily throw you around like a rag doll. so he can feel some sense of confidence and have a sense of control. something he probably never experienced.

"i'm not listening to you. now you listen to me. you... you listen to me y/n. we are both the same person. we deserve absolutely nothing. we deserve everything our fathers did to us-"

" you know that's not true scott." someone speaks up from behind scott. their voice is strong and stern. it brings you comfort. never would you have thought, laying on the floor with blood dripping down your chin that the sound of someone's voice would bring you comfort. your heart feels warm. you can feel the familiarity of having control over your body come back. you smile. how could you be smiling at a time like this? your smiling. really hard while looking down at the floor. you refused to look up at scott. you refuse to do so.

because deep down you know you would be staring at the version of yourself that's buried deep inside you. that part inside you that keeps you wondering everyday, if you didn't take the path you took would you be like that. would you have done the same thing he had done? what makes him so different from you. just because you carry an id that gives you power over any normal civilian and a gun that's supposed to protect you and others. that doesn't make you any different though. because even though you have those things, you still think like scott. what if you truly don't deserve anyone in this world that would treat you with respect? what if you truly deserve someone as messed up as fucked up ad you are? because then they wouldn't understand right? they wouldn't understand how your mind works. but..like scott said. you probably deserve someone like scott, someone so sick and twisted-

why are you like this. why are you taking his words to heart. are you really that desperate and pathetic that you start taking an unsubs words to heart just because he shared an intimate moment with you. why? is it because you never in your life had experienced something like that and now you yearn for it? you start to believe every word he's said. your so naive. and your so vain. how can you be so gullible. why are you the way that you are. none of what scott said is true. none of it, absolutely none of it.

your too preoccupied with your brain breaking you down too notice two people coming over to you. your zoning out. your thinking hard. really hard. something like this requires a lot of thinking. but it shouldn't though. your supposed to just shrug off his words. not pay any mind to them. he's a mentally ill unsub who's murdered 5 women. nothing he says should make you reason with his thinking. there's nothing to reason with. he's insane. your not insane. your not insane. your just a girl who's seen some insane things.

" hey. your okay. i got you." morgan says gently grabbing you by the arms. "i got you y/n." he whispers picking you up gently. you stand up looking at the wall infront of you still zoned out. " hey y/n." emily pats your shoulder gently tilting her head to the side looking at you with such pain. you shake your head and look at both of them. " hi emily." you respond looking at emily blinking repeatedly. " hey you." she says smiling. " we've gotta get you to the ambulance come on y/n." morgan says wrapping his arms around you, pushing you into him.

" j-i don't need medical care morgan." you say trying to push your heavy head away but finding it way too hard. he feels too comfortable. too comforting. he feels too nice. his cologne smells masculine. really masculine. why is it comforting? why does it bring you comfort? you close your tired eyes for a second. " hey hey don't close your eyes on me I/n." morgan says tilting his head around to take a look at you, you shake your head softly. " i'm not dying morgan." you groan.

emily chuckles. " morgan's probably enjoying this." emily says wrapping up arm around her shoulder helping you walk, " cant have derek enjoying himself too much we all know how cocky he'll get and how high his ego will sky rocket." emily adds on looking at you smiling. her words make you chuckle. a painful chuckle. when your lips curve to let out a laugh a wave of pain washes over your face. "ow ow." you chuckle closing your eyes. morgan shakes his head,

"yeah you wish you can have a bit of this ego." morgan replies.

rossi opens the house door. his eyes immediately look to you. " it's alright i've got her." he says running to you. " derek go take care of reid he's in the ambulance." rossi says putting his gun away. morgan slowly and gently lets you go. rossi quickly replaces morgan. your head immediately shoots up. that hurt. you didn't even know you could do that. why did your head shoot up so quickly? just a second ago you were leaning into morgan for support because you couldn't bare to hold your head up and now suddenly you have all the energy in the world to shoot your head up.

"w-wait whys reid in the ambulance?" you ask your eyes wide, your pretty sure your eyes are half closed though. you can't bare to hold them open. you can already feel your left eye bruising. you can taste blood in your mouth. and you know there's blood dripping down from your eyebrows, from the healed over stitch. rossi and emily push you forward helping you walk. why aren't they answering you? what happened to reid? whys he in an ambulance? is he injured? what's wrong with spencer? what happened to spence? " i think that's a question he should answer." rossi says. what does that mean?

your quickly brought out of the house, thank god. you feel like if you spent another second in there you would go ballistic and break down crying. your heads down, your too tired. you see a pair of shoes infront of you. who's shoes are those? who is that? and why did they stop right infront of you? it's not spencer. spence would never wear those shoes. he was wearing converse earlier. dark blue converse. why do you remember all of this? don't you have some sort of concussion? how do you remember what pair of shoes spencer wore? god...

you feel emily and rossi's grip weaken around you. the unfamiliar person infront of you reaches forward and takes you. they lead you away from rossi and emily. your too tired to even care. they lean you against them. " where's...what's wrong with dr spencer reid?" you mumble stumbling in their hood barely having the energy to hold yourself up. " it's alright i°ve got you. here." they sit you down on something. there's bright red lights flashing around you. an ambulance.

" ma'am i'm gonna get an IV bag started is that alright with you?" the medic asks opening a cabinet. you nod your head hazily. you lean your head against the walls of the ambulance. he takes your arm rolling your sleeve up. you feel the soft pinch. your thankful for it though. it's stopping you from dissociating and falling asleep. you don't wanna fall asleep until someone tells you why spencer is in an ambulance. why do you care for him? why do you care for him after everything's he said- oh right. after what he's said. why do you care for him after he just publicly embarrassed you? that's so stupid. why are you so pathetic and desperate. did he publicly embarrass you? half of the team probably already knew. it's not that hard to figure out. it’s probably why you are the way that you are. they’re profilers. of course they would figure that out. what he said was true. they all probably agree. oh god..

" let me go! let me go! i don't need medical attention she needs it more than me! let me see her!" you hear a voice shout from the distance, you recognise it. your heartbeat quickens. not like earlier though. not in the way your heartbeat quickened earlier. that was in fear. no. this. this is in relief. your stomach starts to stir. in nervousness. your still leaning your head against the wall, but your looking down. your hair covering your face. you stop hearing his voice.

" ma'am i need you to lift your head up." the medic says gently placing a tray next to you, a tray your guessing is full of medical supplies and alcohol. you softly nod your head sitting up. the medic grabs one of the medical instrument opening the wrapping. he moves to the side to quickly put on gloves.

“ oh my god y/n..” you hear him say your name, in so so much pain. he sounds so upset. is he in pain? why does he sound so upset. what happened to him. is he okay. you look up. you see him. you look into his eyes. and suddenly all the words he’s said earlier rush buck into your clouded messy mind. but they don’t hurt as much. your so used to men blurting out hurtful words to you and you having to get over them, what else do you do? ask them to apologise? expect them to apologise?

no. they don’t do that. they’ve never done that. best thing to do is just get over it, because you probably deserve it right? that’s what you were taught.

he looks tired. his eye bags look darker than what they usually would look like. his hair is messier then usual. the two buttons on his dark blue vest are unbuttoned. he’s wearing his fbi vest. his dark blue pants have wet stains on the side of them. your guessing because he would repeatedly wipe his sweaty hands on them. a habit he has when he’s nervous.

he looks into your eyes. he sees the bruise that's already forming in your eye. the trail of blood rolling down your eyebrow from what he can see, that scar you have. you have blood rolling down the side of your face. your neck is red. an imprint of a hand already appearing. his heart hurts. it hurts so much. seeing you like this. but how dare he right?

how dare he feel pain in his heart? the pain your feeling physically and mentally is probably 10x worse than what he’s feeling. he wishes he was feeling it though, he wishes that right in this second all your pain would be transferred to him. add it on to his pain. he feels so guilty. you don’t deserve this. this is his fault. this is his fault. this is all his fault. your never gonna look him in the eye again. whenever you do your gonna remember this day. and how much pain he put you through. he hates it. he hates it so much. he hates himself so much.

"y-y/n." he's out of breath. he doesn't know where to start. he didn't have time to think of an apology, spending the entire car ride panicking nervous about you and wether you were safe or not. but now he can't think of anything.

he can't think of anything when looking into your eyes, the only thing he's thinking of is how badly he wishes he can go back in time and prevent all of this from happening. or make all of this happen but only put himself in your shoes. make him go through all this pain instead of you. You don't deserve this. you don't deserve him. you don't deserve his stupid apology that's about to come, that is if he can even muster up an apology right now. you deserve so much better than him.

"y/n i'm so sorry." spencer starts shaking his head his eyes wide. he can't think of anything. his iq of 187 has suddenly dropped down to 20. spencer who seemed to never stop his rambling suddenly can't think of a single thing to ramble on. you just made him stupid. and not in the way it's supposed to be. you make him stupid when you smile at him. not like this. he can't think of anything. he doesn't know where to start. he shakes his head.

" god can't you do your job!" spencer snaps grabbing a medical wipe and pouring saline solution on it. he stands infront of you. his angry demeanour quickly vanishes once his infront of you. something just hit him. he freezes infront of you. it's like all the color, the little color he already had in his face has drained.

you look at him in confusion. all though your upset at him it doesn't stop you from caring and growing concerned. " w-what?" you say blinking repeatedly looking at him. hes still looking at you. his lips part. he blinks repeatedly. he shakes his head.

"i-i'm just..i got scared." he stutters his voice cracking. " why?" you ask tilting your head to the side. " i'm scared your gonna flinch once i touch you." he replies quickly. really quickly. any normal person wouldn't catch it. but you did. vou've learnt to keep up with spencer's quick rambling. oh. oh. whys he so considerate? y/n stop. you can think that. you look down at your thighs. unable to think of anything to say. if he did touch you. would you have flinched? would you have reacted? you don't know. but spencer's not him. right?

" i'm not gonna flinch spencer." you say looking up at him. he nods his head gulping, "a-alright." he says. he lifts his shaky hand up. he gently dabs the medical wipe on your cut. disinfecting it. ouch it burns. your nails dig into the palm of your hand. his eyes are stuck on the cut. the scar. he knows where it's from. he might've been with garcia when she did her usual background snooping on new members of the team 2 years ago. he remembers how guilty he felt after it. finding out about such a dark part of your life without your knowledge or permission.

but that guilt doesn't compare to the guilt he's feeling right now. he feels tremendously guilty, he caused the scar to re open. all because of his foolishness. if he just shut his mouth earlier and wasn't such a smart ass. if he maybe was the one to go with you to scott anderson's house and not jj he would've been able to protect you. he probably would've shot scott anderson the second he would've laid his hands on vou.

he doesn't trust himself aorund vou. atleast not from the harm of unsubs and has the need to shoot any of them if they ever did you harm. he would probably lose his job. if he was there he probably would've lost his job. but he doesn't care. for your safety. he doesn't care.

" i'm so sorry y/n-" you can feel the medical wipe shake on your eyebrow, from spencer's shaky hands.

" it's fine spencer." you mumble looking into his eyes. is it fine though? is it really fine? whys he apologising? he's not supposed to be apologising right? this is new. this is so very new. they never apologise after hurting you. this is so unfamiliar? how are you supposed to react? do you tell them how you really feel? do you immediately accept their apology? they never apologised to you when they hurt you. whys spencers apologising? what do you say?

" it's not fine y/n. i-i hurt you. i c-caused this." he says spitting his words out in a shaky manner. what do you say or do? you've never made it this far whenever something similar to this happened in the past.

" spencer it's fine. i shouldn't have egged you on earlier anyways-" why are you taking the blame. y/ n stop. it's not your fault. it never is your fault when something like this happens. y/n please. it's not your fault. stop taking the blame. his heart aches even more. his throat feels heavy. who hurt you like this? who broke your heart like this? who messed up your image of love like this? who hurt you this bad. he hates them. he hates them for making you like this.

" y/n i know you have the personal need to justify everything i've said but y/n stop, just stop. i hurt you okay. and even though saying that out loud and accepting the fact that i said that it thr worst thing i've ever done in my entire life it's nothing compared to what you felt when i said that. i don't wanna be like him y/n. i don't wanna be him. i don't want you to think i can be him. i don't want you to see him everytime you see me y/n. because that would kill me even more. y-you don't have to talk to me anymore y/n i just don't want you to flinch or have this horrible feeling of rememberence whenever you see me. please just.. just don't take the blame for this because it's my fault. this entire thing was my fault and i put you through this y/n. you don't deserve this. i'm really sorry.”

spencer rambles. trying to push the heavy feeling in his throat away. he can't cry. he doesn't deserve to cry right now. he's nervous though. he's nervous about what your gonna say. he doesn’t have the right to feel nervous though. he should accept whatever it is. he did this to himself. whatever the outcome is. he just hopes you don’t have a sense of fear wash over you whenever you look at him and get memories of this day. that is if you ever look at him after this day.

no one's ever said that to you. you feel your tired eyes tear up. your about to cry. oh no. spencer panics. does he comfort you? do you even want his comfort? he doesn't deserve to touch you, he thinks. he drops the medical wipe.

" n-no please don't cry. ill go call

over emily or jj or morgan or hotch just p-please dont cry. i'll go-" it physically aches him to leave you like this. but he has to. he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable. he just made you cry. you must really hate him. he understands though. he just wishes you understand how sorry he is. but you probably will never know. because you probably don't expect him to feel sorry, you probably think he's faking it. he just needs you to understand that he's not him. he's not your dad. spencer actually feels sorry. he feels so so sorry for everything he's done and said. but you had to put up with years of your dad taking apologises you probably don't believe his. he hates himself.

you stand up. you barely have room to think clearly before a tear rolls down your cheek. spencer immediately removes his fbi vest, you bury your head against spencer's chest. you wrap your hands against his chest. he doesn't wrap his hands around you though. he's scared to touch you. your not sobbing. your too tired to sob. you just let tears slowly roll down your cheeks. " your not him spencer." you say out loud. spencer's heart skips a beat. he slowly wraps his hands around you. " i'm still mad at you. you shouldn't have said that earlier. b-but i forgive you spence." you mumble against his chest. he shakes his head, " you shouldn't forgive me y/n. your supposed to be mad at me. your supposed to be yelling at me. or-or hitting me." he says.

" i am mad at you spencer." you say pulling your head away wiping the tears.

"alright. good." he says

looking down at you. " oh god- im sorry that was stupid i shouldn't have hugged you-" you immediately start apologising shaking your head. you immediately sit back down. oh god your so stupid. why did you just hug him? your so embarrasing oh god. did you feel the need to hug spencer because you just needed to make sure that spencer wasn't him.

not that you would know what your dads embrace would feel like. but you just needed to make sure.

" no please don't apologise. d-do you mind if i sit next to you?" spencer asks pointing at the space next to you. you look at him and slowly nod your heart. he sits next to you. " once ive healed i'm yelling at you spencer." you say looking down at your legs, your tired eyes aching. " alright." spencer says nodding. you should yell at him. and you will. he had no right. but your too tired right now. you just hope. you really really hope that spencer doesn't spiral once your back in quantico and probably will forcefully be taken into the hospital by emily and jj. you really hope he doesn't drown himself in guilt and spiral. why are you so caring? does spencer care about you the way you care about him? that's foolish right? he wouldn't right? does he feel his heart quicken when he sees you? does he care the way you care? that's stupid god y/n you probably have a concussion just shut up.

yeah how stupid y/n. because if you knew the way spencer cared about you or the way his heart quickens when he sees you. you wouldn't believe it. it will take time though. it will take time for you to believe it. he's willing to work hard during that time. he just hopes you know even the slightest bit. but he wont say anything right now. you've already been through enough. he wont say anything for a while. though when the time is right. maybe you'll finally know how much he cares about you. for now, he'll settle for this just for now. until he can gain your trust back and make his feelings known. he'll settle for this. because just being next to you makes him happy.

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[zeltqz]

call me or not, it's up to you pt 2 | haitani ran

☰ — synopsis : you finally called ran back after a disagreement with your boyfriend.

☰ — pairing : haitani ran x fem!reader ☰ — length : 5.8k words ☰ — contents : nsfw and 18+ contents, mentions of violence, protected sex, protective ran ☰ — notes : this has been in the drafts for WEEEKS but i had to post for my mans birthday, couldn't miss it

On the way home, Ran’s peaceful drive was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. Initially he would’ve ignored it, but one glance to where his phone was sitting in the cup holder, he almost lost control of the wheel seeing your name. The streets were fairly empty at this time of night, so nobody was disrupted when he pulled over abruptly, clearing his throat before answering.

“Hello?”

Soft sniffles filled the car from where his phone was connected to his speakers, and his concern grew significantly. “Ran?”

“Why are you crying?” he asked, fingers tightening against the wheel as he waited for you to continue.

You paused briefly, exhaling exhaustedly. “A—are you busy right now?”

“No.” He started driving again, slowly. “But why are you crying?”

“I need you to pick me up. If that’s not too much stress for you. I, um, I really need help.”

“Sure, I mean. Send me your location.” You murmured a soft agreement and he heard your fingernails tapping against the screen, a notification message sliding down his screen seconds later. “Why do you need help? Talk to me.” Ran leaned forward to connect his GPS to your location.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. He could hear your teeth clattering together as you shivered. It was incredibly dark outside right now, the skies pitch black, streets tinted orange from the streetlights, and the heavy rainfall that’d been plaguing the city for the last few hours. 

“We have time,” Ran responded simply. He could practically feel you hesitating. “(Name) I need the full story here. Talk to me while I come get you.”

You pressed your lips together tightly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you shivered, goosebumps erupting on your skin. Your shirt was soaked through at this point, your jeans soggy and the lack of a coat made you certain you’d catch hypothermia later. 

“I—uh. Basically I got into an argument with um, Masato. You know him? He’s the um, dude from my story. A month ago?”

“I’m aware,” Ran responded dryly.

You swallowed thickly. “Yeah well. He was driving me home and we got into an argument because I didn’t like how he was flirting with one of the waitresses at the restaurant. And then he wanted to check my phone. I said no of course, but not because I was cheating or anything. I just didn’t like how he kept deflecting whenever his issues was brought up. But anyway, the argument escalated and he basically kicked me out the car and left me stranded god knows where. All the buses stopped running an hour ago, and the nearest train station is a 45 minute walk away. I have no money so I can’t call a cab. My wallet is in his car…and everything is just such a mess. I don’t have a jacket, I’m cold and I just don’t know what to do.” 

By the time you finished your voice was tiny, and the sniffles came back as you fought from crying. Ran could practically picture your face right now, all teary eyed and sad and his grip on the wheel tightened immensely. 

“I’m about fifteen minutes away, baby. Okay? Is there anywhere warm you can get to?”

You looked at your surroundings. A lone empty highway, with a diner in the distance, the words “OPEN 24/7” flashing in neon lights. “Yeah. There’s a diner around here.”

Ran looked at the map on his phone and confirmed the location of the diner with you. You nodded and he told you to get there quickly and he’d order you something once he got there. You thanked him and hung up, slowly making your way inside. You felt like a crazy person when you walked in, clothes soaked and wetting their floors as you made your way to sit down by the heater. A few concerned employees and customers glanced at you, but you ignored them in favour of wrapping your arms around yourself, a pitiful attempt of creating warmth.

Ran’s speeding managed to cut the fifteen minute drive into eight, and you were too busy staring at the table, tracing the wooden pattern with your eyes to see him pull into the parking lot. It wasn’t until the bell rang as  he walked did you finally look up and meet his gaze. 

He rushed over to you and you stood up quickly, wrapping your arms around him. He dropped his head to rest on top of yours and he could feel you shaking against him. 

“You alright?” he asked and you nodded, not removing your head from his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, feeling you clutch onto the front of his shirt. 

“Um excuse me?” The two of you broke apart, staring at the waitress that stood a few feet away from you both, a notepad in her hand. “Are you two ordering anything?”

“You hungry?” Ran asked, looking down at you. You shook your head. “Thirsty?” You thought for a minute before nodding. “Hot chocolate for the lady please. Put marshmallows, whipped cream, whatever’s available in there.” He handed her his credit card and turned his attention back to you. “Look at me.”

You tilted your head up to look at him and he reached a tentative hand out to your cheek, cupping it. Your face was wet, from tears or the rain he didn’t know, frankly he didn’t care. His thumbs wiped some of the water away from your cheek, tracing over your features softly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wiping at your own face. 

“For what?”

“For calling you like this. I didn’t want you to see me like this again. This is so embarrassing.” 

Ran dropped his hand down to your arm, soothing the goosebumps erupted on your skin. “Take this.” He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and you held your arms out as he helped you fit in through it.

“I look ridiculous,” you said with a teary laugh. 

“You look cute.” He pinched your cheek and you pushed his hands away, a small smile on your face despite it all. The waitress came with your drink and the two of you sat down. He watched you take small sips of your drink, avoiding his intense eye contact.

After you finished your drink, he reached forward and wiped some whipped cream from the corner of your mouth. His thumb traced down to your chin, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away. 

“Thank you for the drink.” You pushed the mug in the middle of the table, wrapping your arms back around yourself. “I’ll pay you back—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t want you—”

“You just told me your wallet is gone. How are you going to pay me back?”

“...I’ll get it back—”

“Like hell you are,” he interrupted and you sat back, looking at him shocked. “You’re never seeing that man again. I’ll make sure of that.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Unbelievable. I didn’t call you so you can control every aspect of my life again Ran.”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Why did you call me then? Last I recall, you have plenty of other friends that have cars.” 

“T—that doesn’t matter why I called you, Ran,” you spluttered, not sounding the least bit convincing. His eyebrows rose and so did your temper. “I’m serious. I called you because you were the first person I thought of. You’re thinking too much about it.”

“Sure. If that’s what you believe,” he said, tone dripping with condescension that made you roll your eyes. Times like this is when you realised that missing Ran is completely different than actually being around him. He was insufferable and you remembered exactly why you had to break things off. 

Ran stood from the table, dusting his clothes. “I’ll take you home. Come on.” He held his hand out.

Reluctantly you stood, grabbing your phone and storming past him, ignoring his hand. He simply smirked and followed after you. You waited outside his car, standing by the backseat with your arms crossed, his jacket over your head acting as an umbrella.

He unlocked his car and you slipped into the back.

 “You can sit up front,” he suggested, shrugging when you stubbornly shook your head, staring resolutely out the window. He rolled his eyes, a light smirk still on his face. He drove at a slower speed than he usually would when he saw you starting to doze off against the seats, driving around in circles just to give you enough time to rest. You woke up an hour later, rubbing your eyes and blinking to adjust to the bright lights. 

Looking around you realised you were parked in a familiar looking garage, the car empty. You slipped out of the car and into the house, walking through until you entered the living room. Ran was seated on the couch, watching tv and texting on his phone.

“Uh, Ran?” You approached the couch and he casted a glance in your direction. “Why am I here?”

“You really thought I’d take you home after that story you just told me on the phone?” His nose scrunched as he flipped through the channels. “I’m not stupid.”

“Okay, Masato isn’t like a serial killer or something. Relax. I’m safe at home.”

“Any right minded man that would leave a girl stranded on the streets in the freezing cold is definitely a cause for concern alright. You’re not going back there till I take care of things.”

“Oh. And by “take care” you mean getting your men to kill him? That’s it?” He stayed silent and you groaned. “I can’t do this. I’m tired, Ran. You know I hate violence. I don’t want the man dead either—”

“Well I do.”

“Good thing it’s not your call then,” you shot back, frowning. “This is my life not yours. You don’t get to decide who gets to stay in it or not.”

He tilted his head back and looked behind at you, the smile on his face turning into more of a smirk. “Do I get to stay or na?” You rolled your eyes and he reached behind him, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to the couch. “Well?”

You shrugged, looking down at him. “I dunno.” 

Shrugging his jacket off your shoulders, you folded it neatly and slung it on the back of the couch. “It’s complicated Ran,” you said, placing both hands on either side of his head, on the back of the couch.

“Doesn’t have to be.” He grabbed one of your hands, caressing your knuckles.

You found yourself hard pressed to look into those violet eyes of his staring intently back into yours. “Ran…it’s not that simple.”

“It can be. You just don’t like simple.”

You forcefully removed your hand from his. “Excuse me?”

“You always feel like shit has to be complicated in order for it to work. I noticed that you know?” You scoffed, and he rolled his eyes. “Don’t act dumb. We dated for seven years, I think you’d know a person after that long.”

“Crazy because if I were to sit here and say false things about you, then you’d just deny them because I don’t know better than you. Isn’t that right?” 

“Nothing about what you say about me is false. You know this,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. He reached in his pocket, putting a cigarette into his mouth. 

“So if I called you cold and manipulative, would you say I’m correct?”

He lit his cigarette and tossed his head back to look at you, exhaling smoke from his mouth. “You wouldn’t be wrong, no. But you’re only focusing on the negatives.” He reached his hand out again and you hesitated for a split second before grabbing his hand, allowing him to pull you back closer. 

“I can’t think of any positives.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure.” He took the cigarette out of his mouth and patted the spot on the couch next to him. You walked around the couch, sitting beside him, cringing at the feeling of your wet clothes on his leather couch. 

He put the cigarette back in his mouth and examined you. “You’re still cold.”

“I’m fine.”

He wrinkled his nose, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “Go shower. Wear some of my clothes.”

“Are you sure?” 

He waved in the general direction of his bathroom and you thanked him. You returned back to the living room half an hour later, wearing one of his shirts that were too big for your body. Flopping back on the couch beside him, he offered you a cigarette to which you shook your head.

“Anyway back to me,” Ran said. You rolled your eyes. “You really can’t think of any positives to describe me? Come on, think deep.”

“This is starting to sound like couples therapy,” you stated dryly, He didn’t respond, just continued staring at you. “I dunno,” you said, picking at the skin on your lips. “Like, you’re funny I guess? You’re sweet, and caring in your own twisted fucked up way. You’re protective in a way that is a perfect mix of just good and overbearing. You’re fucking annoying sometimes too and—”

“Woah woah woah. Going off topic, a little bit?”

You smiled, a genuine laugh leaving your lips and Ran’s heart fluttered at the sight. He slung an arm over your shoulder, tugging you closer. You sighed, resting your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes when he kissed your forehead. 

“I missed you a lot, you know?” You hummed in response, snuggling up beside him. When Ran had came back home and let you sleep in his car, he turned the heating on in every room in the house for you. The fact you still snuggled close to him for warmth made him smile a little bit.  “Didja get my voicemail all those weeks ago?”

“Yeah.” You shifted to look up at him. “Gave me a bit of an ego boost not gonna lie,” you admitted.

He looked down at you. “Why’d you take so long to call me then?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and level, to not show any betrayal of emotion. You didn’t respond and looked at the tv, distracted by your thoughts. He jostled you lightly. “Hm?”

“I don’t know,” you finally said after a few seconds. You looked back up at him. “I was petty and hurt still and part of me wanted to make you jealous.” You laughed lightly. “Was pretty shitty of me. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. But I’m sorry, Ran.”

Ran hummed, the sound vibrating from his chest into yours. He looked away from you, staring at the television with an unreadable expression.There were many times you couldn’t understand what he was thinking. Ran was a man with an unbreakable exterior, and you could only think of one time in your eight year long relationship when you actually managed to crack through that hard shell of his. 

When you found out Izana had died and Ran had gotten himself and his friends arrested. He was released a couple hours later and you came to pick him up from the station. It was hard seeing him more quiet than usual. He barely said a single word to you when you took him home and spent the night with him. That night was when you finally saw Ran cry for the first time and it was overwhelming for you. He wasn’t balling with tears, just a few drops and you wiped each tear drop away with your thumb. That night was so memorable for you and it stayed in your mind all those years later. 

Right now he had that same unreadable, blank expression on his face as he stared at the television, his fingers softly grazing the unshaven stubble on his jaw. You looked up at him, chin on his shoulder and waited for him to finish his thoughts.

“What’s his full name?” he asked after a long moment of silence.

You swallowed. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Just curious.” You were looking at him weirdly, eyes roaming over his face as you tried to uncover any hidden agendas he might have. It still pissed you off how irritatingly good his poker face was.

Squinting at him, you slowly pulled back to sit close beside him, fiddling with the loose string on the sleeve on your shirt. “Promise you won’t…hurt him?”

“I won’t… not kill him,” he said with a smile that grew when you looked up at him exasperated. “I just wanna ask him some questions, s’all.”

You nervously chewed your bottom lip raw by the time you decided. You sighed. “It’s Masato Hirakawa. He’s my accountant,” you told him and Ran shifted on his side to look at you better. “He asked me out one evening and I said yes. We didn’t make things official until like two weeks ago and then that’s when things started going downhill.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You scrunched your nose. “We got drunk at a club last week and Yuzuha drunkenly mentioned the voicemail you left me and I just laughed it off but Masato looked confused and asked what we were talking about. I told him not to worry about it and he got upset, thinking I was hiding shit from him which made no sense because you left that voicemail before we were even official so I wasn’t cheating. But he didn’t care. He then went down a rabbit hole once he figured out your name and started like internet stalking you. He was googling everything he could find about you, was stalking your Instagram, seeing your lifestyle and he took whatever he was feeling out on me.”

Ran’s eyebrows slowly rose as he considered what you just said. 

“Not physically,” you quickly added upon seeing his reaction. “No I mean he would get mad and yell at me, then one night he accused me of being a gold digger and using him for his money and I reminded him just because he’s an accountant that he’s not some millionaire and he needs to calm down. He started ranting and raving about you at any given time and it just got annoying. Every time I was on my phone he thought I was having an affair with you even though we haven’t been in contact in a literal year.” You laughed dryly. 

“It was so stupid. And for what? It was only a week and it made me feel like I was just so…” you paused, trying to figure out the right words. “I don’t know. I just hated it so much. Then today with the car I slept in the car and he took my phone and listened to the voicemail you left and then was convinced that I was sleeping with you while seeing him and he woke me up by yelling at me and stuff. Then kicked me out.”

“Is that why you called me?”

You nodded, fingers trembling as you played with the string. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean for all this to happen. You were just the first person I could think of helping me in that moment. I didn’t—”

“Stop stressing.” He grabbed your wrist and you let go of the string as he guided your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “You calling me back was the best thing you could’ve done.” You smiled wryly, meeting his eyes for a few seconds before looking away. “Come here.”

Slipping into his lap, he cradled you against him. “You mad at him?” he asked and you nodded. “Let me take care of this? Please?”

“I don’t know…”

“I won’t kill him if that’s what you’re so scared about. Just wanna spook him a little,” he said, making you giggle. 

You looked up at him and nodded. “Just a spook. Promise?” His eyes dropped down to your lips and your face heated up when you realised where his gaze was trained. 

He leaned down and kissed you softly, his hand rising to your cheek., looking searchingly in your eyes for the longest two seconds of your life. “I promise,” he whispered against your lips before pulling you in for another kiss.

Twisting your body, you turned to loop your arms around his neck, his hand sliding over your knee to pull you over, straddling his lap. His hands slipped under your shirt, rubbing up and down your back. He pulled away, smirking. “No  bra?”

“It was wet from the rain,” you mumbled, kissing him again. He groaned into your mouth, all decorum gone as moved his hands to your chest, cupping your breasts, your nipples already hard and poking his palms.

“Mmm take this off,” he said, tugging at your shirt. 

You shut him up, kissing him again as your hands flew to his shoulders, your whole body warming at the feel of solid muscle, still prominent even through his shirt, underneath your palms. “Take yours off shirt,” you replied, biting his bottom lip with a smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Unbutton me then.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, his smile growing as you got to work, unbuttoning them one by one, your skin growing hot at black ink peeking through. He shrugged his shirt off and your hands flew right back to his shoulders, running them down his chest and letting your fingers trace along his abs. 

He sat up and kissed under your jaw. “Now your turn.” You cupped his face as he sucked, your fingers moving to his hair, tugging when his tongue licked and sucked harder. 

You pushed him back and he watched you lift your shirt up and over, stretching in the process and tossing it to the other end of the couch. He licked his lips as his hands flew to your hips, fingers dipping shallowly against the band of your panties, snapping them back against your skin.  You kissed him sloppily again.

His hands slipped under your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you as you squealed, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom. Depositing you on his bed, he wasted no time climbing on top of you, pinning your wrists to the mattress as he kissed down your body. 

He latched onto a nipple, his tongue snaking around it as he licked and sucked. The warmth of his mouth and his hands tweaking your other nipple were making you dizzy, biting your bottom lip hard as you began to get restless. He kissed down your stomach, his hands pushing your legs apart. 

“Holy fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” he breathed, eyeing the wet patch in your panties.  He peeled them away and ran his finger through your folds, smirking at the hitch in your breath. “All we did was kiss.”

“S—shut up,” you hissed, irritation turning to pleasure when he swirled his finger around your entrance, and he had to bite his lips to keep from groaning when your hips started stuttering, a silent plea for him to go further. He slowly sunk his finger in and you gasped, back arching against the bed. He pulled out before sinking fully in, teasing you with only the tip of his finger.

You irritatingly looked at him. “Stop being a fucking tease,” you complained, trying to shimmy your body further down the bed, needing more of him. Ran grabbed at your hip, stilling you and you whined loudly.

“Easy.” His voice was light and playful and that only angered you even more. Idly pumping his finger in and out of you, he added another and you writhed, restlessly moving to fight back the heat forming in your abdomen. His fingers curled against that spot that had you melting against the sheets. When you were least expecting it, your eyes closed and head thrown back, he leaned forward, wrapping his lips around your clit, and sucked. 

You moaned loudly as his tongue began working at your cunt, licking sloppily like a man starved. Slipping his fingers out, he parted your folds with two fingers, eyes trained on the way your pussy was gleaming with a mixture of your slick and his saliva.

 “Fuck,” he breathed. He looked up at your body, over the curve of your breasts. “Sit up for me. Wanna see that pretty face.”

“Nn-nn,” you said, shaking your head, writhing against the sheets as he buried his face back into your pussy, sucking obligingly at your clit. His tongue was making you feel everything at once, his fingers sliding back into your pussy making your hips stutter, your body was heating up, and you could feel the incoming pressure of an all familiar orgasm building until it stopped.

Ran simply stopped his ministrations and stilled his fingers in you, the thickness of his two fingers sitting in your pussy has you gushing a little more around them, and your clit felt cold without his mouth. 

You sat up and stared confusingly at him. “Why’d you stop?” 

He presses a longing kiss to your inner thighs. “You didn’t wanna cooperate with me. So why should I give you what you want?” You groaned loudly as he smiled, lips curving against your skin. He continued to lather kisses to your thighs, coming dangerously close to your pussy and just when you’d get your hopes up, he’d move back to your thighs. 

“Ran, please.” You moved your hand to his hair, trying to tug him away from the marks he was leaving against your thigh but he was nothing but stubborn. “Rannnnnnnn,” you groaned. 

“You know what I was want,” he stated simply, and your face scrunched imperceptibly. “You’re so cute when you do that.”

“Ran I’m serious. Eat me out or I’m leaving.”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “So bossy.” He looked up at you and you were still partially glaring at him. He smiled. “Keep looking at me just like that.” His head lowered, ignored hearing you call him a masochist under your breath and smirked at the sound of your breathing hitching, effectively shutting you up as he licked a stripe up your slit.

The eye contact was overwhelming and hard to maintain, especially when he slipped two fingers back inside you without warning. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and effectively failed, shutting them as his lips sealed around your throbbing clit. The pressure was re-building and your hands flew to his hair, gripping tight and tugging as you chanted his name over and over again as you came. 

Ran sat up, swiping a hand over his mouth as he rearranged you on the bed, wasting no time and letting you catch a breath before he pinned your wrists to the mattress with one hand, sloppily reaching for a condom in his bedside table with the other. 

He grabbed a condom and you watched as he rolled it on in record time, his eagerness rolling off him in waves as his hands darted straight to your hips, lifting them up at an angle, fingers digging into your skin as he slid his cock in slowly. His mouth fell open at the tight warmth stretch of your pussy, a low groan escaping him. 

You raised your arms up and he let go of your hips, leaning down to let you accommodate him, wrapping your arms around his neck as your legs locked around his waist. He slid his arms under your back and held you back just as tightly, his hips pressing flush against yours. 

You almost whined at the feeling of being so full, the thickness of his cock nestled between your walls dizzying. He pulled out and slowly pushed back in, his pace speeding up as you started to let your moans out. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling that sweet perfume you always love to overspray on yourself, taking in the heat of your naked body below him, and began littering your neck with kisses, sucking hard at your skin till it bruised. 

Your hands flew to his neck, taking your nails up and down and dragging red long streaks onto his skin. He pushed himself up, hands on either side of your head and began snapping his hips until you got louder. The bed was squeaking,  your voice was getting higher, and the wet sounds of your pussy reached your eyes making you feel hot. 

“I’m close,” you whimpered, gripping onto his arms, and he grunted at the bite of your nails digging into his muscle. 

“Me too baby.” He pressed down on your stomach with a firm hand, hips slowing down to slow but deep thrusts. You could feel his cock stretching you out as he hit deeper, his hand applying more and more pressure until it was unbearable. You came with another loud cry, his hips stuttering against yours before he cusses and pulls out abruptly, your body cold and empty and you push yourself weakly onto your elbows to watch as he sprays his cum on your inner thighs, painting them white. He tapped his cock against your pussy, sliding it up and down your wet folds before exhaling deeply. 

He sat back onto his knees and examined your spent body, how your eyes were unable to stay open for more than three seconds without slowly closing shut. 

He moved to lay beside you, gathering you in his chest. 

“Wait. I need to clean up,” you muttered, trying to keep your legs open to chase away the feeling of wet cum in your inner thighs. 

“Who cares,” he grumbled, hand sliding down your leg to throw it over his hip. “Sleep with me. It’s almost 3 am.” He fell asleep not even a second after finishing his sentence and you rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your face. 

Ran was nothing but a deep sleeper, and you took advantage of that to brush his hair out of his face and cup his cheeks, playing with his nose as he slept soundly in front of you. It took an hour for you to fall back asleep and you woke a few hours later. 

Rolling onto your side, you slapped around for his laptop on the bedside table and opened it,wincing at the bright screen. Through the blindness you were able to make out the time as 8am. Carefully you slipped out of bed and took a brief shower before heading to his kitchen. 

Ran was able to sleep through mainly anything, even his alarms, but the sounds of you clattering around his kitchen effectively did succeeded in waking him up. He snorted once he checked the time, mumbling “this girl,” under his breath and slipped out of bed to take a shower and brush his teeth. Whatever you were cooking ended up taking nearly a whole hour and you re-entered the bedroom with a tray full of food, Ran had been reduced to idly scrolling on his phone, scratching his stomach. 

“Good morning,” you chirped, climbing onto the bed and placing the food on his lap.

“Morning baby.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you smiled at him. “What’s all this?”

“I felt bad about um, getting you to pick me up yesterday so I wanted to uh, treat you I guess.” You sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder and looked up at him. “I barely cook so you better finish every single thing on that plate.”

He snorted and pulled you in for a kiss. “I appreciate it. Thank you.” 

“No thank you. Seriously. I really owe you one Ran.” You smiled shyly at him before clearing your throat. “Now shut up and eat.”

He rolled his eyes when you grabbed the fork, forcefully stabbed the eggs and held it up to his mouth. “Say aaah.”

He stared blankly at you until you glared at him. He sighed and opened his mouth, the smile coming back in your face in full force as you fed the fork into his mouth. He chewed and you were already restabbing the fork on the plate to pick up some waffles when he stopped you. 

“I can feed myse—“

You shoved more food into his mouth. “Is it good?” You asked, trying not to laugh as you saw him struggling to chew with his mouth full. He nodded once he swallowed, kissing your forehead again and gathering you back into his chest. 

“It tastes amazing. My baby so talented. Come here.” He brought you back in for another longing kiss, his hand cupping the back of your head. You pulled away and removed your head back to his shoulder, tracing your fingers across his chest as he ate. He pushed the plate to the side once he finished and turned to face you. “What’re you doing today?”

You hummed and spread your hands flat against his stomach, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest. “Me and Yuzuha are going to Masato’s to pressure him into giving me my shit. If he doesn’t then I’ll call the police.” 

He wrinkled his nose at the idea and you went back to dragging your finger across his skin, tracing his bellybutton. 

“I don’t want you going over there.”

“Relax. Hakkai and Mitsuya are going to be there too incase he wants to try something.” He wrinkled his nose again and you turned to look up at him. “Okay don’t be like that. They’re strong!”

“All it took for me was a brick and he was out.” Ran laughed when you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re not immortal, you know. Smashing anyone over the head with a brick would knock them out!”

“All I hear is excuses. Besides I thought you said you’d let me handle it, hm?” He jostled you playfully and you shook your head. 

“I was thinking about it and I really do not want you and your goonies to torture the dude until he’s on the verge of death. I hate him but I don’t want to hurt him either.”

“You’re too nice for your own good you know? People will take advantage of that,” he stated calmly and you sighed, settling back beside him. 

“…I know.”

“So let me handle it,” he proposed. You weren’t looking at him so he tilted your face back to his, forehead pressing against yours. “Let me take care of it. And you.” He laced your fingers together as you stared him deeply in the eyes, letting him attempt to persuade you. 

After a few moments you bit down on your lip and sighed. “Okay. Take care of it but I don’t wanna hear what you do or say to him. Alright?”

His grin turned wolffish and he pressed another kiss to your forehead. “You don’t gotta worry about a thing. Just get some sleep,” he said as he gently laid you back down on the bed and tucked you back in, “and let handle everything for you.”

[pacifymebby]

Maybe an imagine for the Peaky Blinders where at some point they got intimate with their girlfriend in the boys’ office and while they were distracted she put her underwear in his gun cabinet. Would love to know how they react when they’re just sitting at their desk and they go to reach for it one day and just find a really sexy pair of undies in there as well😂

I have been writing this for so so so so so so so so so long I think it was one of the first requests I got back in November and I'm so sorry it's taken me this long. It's been sitting in my drafts for months. But here it is, this was actually so much fun to write and I really enjoyed it. I just needed to be in a specific mood to write it i think? I really hope you're still here on my blog anon and that u finally get to enjoy the request :'(

Tommy

🌿 Tommy is only mildly surprised to find your underwear in the draw of his desk. You're always getting up to no good, trying to push his buttons... You're a little minx really, always trying to get his attention... So this is exactly the kind of thing you might do...

🌿He knows exactly why you did it too... Since getting into politics he's had to spend more and more time away from home, always on trips to London, never at home, with you... He knows he's been neglecting you

🌿So, he sends for you, calls you into his office quite calmly. "Sit down y/n..." he says nodding to the chair opposite him.

🌿You're a little uncertain, he looks so stern and serious that you're getting more and more nervous the longer he makes you sit in silence. You're definitely in trouble, that much you can tell...

🌿But you don't know for certain that he's found your underwear until he takes them out of the drawer and drops them in front of you on the desk.

🌿"Y/N, what are these?" the way hes looking at you through his spectacles, so calm and yet stern... You squirm and stutter your response suddenly nowhere near as confident as you had felt when you left them there...

🌿"Um... Well, uh... My um... My underwear i guess?" "You guess?" "No uh... I know Tommy..."

🌿"Right, alright..." he nods and for a moment when he flashes you half a smile and lets out a little breathy laugh you think thats all the torment he's going to put you through... But of course not. This is Tommy we're talking about.

🌿"Alright y/n, and what is your underwear doing in my desk among my tax documents and memos?" "I uh..." "Come on love speak up we haven't got all day..." "Because I put them there Tommy..." You're already blushing deep red, you're embarassed and he's really enjoying making you squirm.

🌿If he's telling the truth he loves that you did it, gives him an excuse to torture you now, force you to admit how much you want him... Something which he obviously loves to hear. Watching you squirm really tuns him on...

🌿"Oh okay, alright, alright... And y/n,why did you do that?"

🌿 You're speechless now, so embarrassed, you can't believe he's really forcing you to admit it but you know he won't let you go or give you what you really want until you do as he's asking and spell it out for him.

🌿You're just not really the kind of girl that does things like this and though it might have been thrilling to do something bad and out of character, you're remembering who you really are - a good, sweet girl - and suddenly you're regretting your little trick.

🌿 "I.. I guess well, you've been so busy lately Tommy I just... I didn't want you to forget about me you know..." you trail off offering him a shy but seductive little smirk. You really want to keep playing coquette but he's really put you in your place and you're not sure now whether he's going to give you what you want or just keep torturing you.

🌿"Right..." he nods before telling you to get up, "Alright y/n now answer me this eh? Come here and answer me this..." he says quiet and intense, running his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his and pulling you down to meet his gaze. He has you bent right over his desk in the most submissive position... You can hardly breath.

🌿"Do you really think you're so easy to forget?" you can hardly speak, just shaking your head slightly, your breath caught in your throat as he tugs you down to kiss you.

🌿 He stands up, letting you go, leaving you feeling let down and if you're being honest, a little confused. You thought he wanted you? For a moment it really looked like you'd played into his lustful side...

🌿 He warns you not to play childish games with him, that in future if you want something you behave like an adult and you come and ask him for it. "Sometimes angel, when you want somet from me, you say please eh? Remember that word sweetheart..."

🌿Fucks you on his desk anyway... "Thoight you might like playing the bad girl eh angel? You want me to show you how I treat those girls?" his low murmur sends a shiver down your spine and when he sinks his teeth teasingly into your neck you can't breath.

🌿Tommy was always going to fuck you on his desk. From the second he'd felt the soft lace in his hands he'd known what he wanted to do to you.

🌿He just wanted to make you squirm first.

Alfie

🐻 He's surprised by you, other young ladies he might expect this from but not you, not his sweet little zieskiet who has the heart mind and soul of an angel. Who is usually always so well behaved...

🐻 It doesn't help that when he discovers your little memento he's in the middle of an intense meeting with Tommy Shelby.

🐻 Tommy thinks he has the upper hand, thinks he's charmed his way into Alfie's trust once again but Alfie's hand has slipped to the drawer in his desk where his fingers skim the surface of the gun he keeps concealed there...

🐻 But where he expects to find cool metal he finds soft silk and lace instead and his heart begins to race as memories of the afternoon before when he'd called you into his office flicker through his mind like a naughty film...

🐻 For the first time ever Tommy witnesses Alfie Solomons speechless. Sure the moment doesn't last long, but for a second there Tommy catches a strange look in Alfie's eyes, like he's genuinely stunned... He's probably lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's the reason Alfie's quietly struggling to swallow a lump in his throat.

🐻 But Alfie just sweeps the underwear to one side for later, tskes the gun out and rushes Tommy through the deal, hurrying him out the door, grumpy and impatient so that he can go home to you.

🐻 When Alfie comes home that night he's playing the "everythings as it always is" act, grumbling to you about the lads in the bakery, grumbling to you about something clumsy Ollie did earlier thst day... You're listening but only a little as you shape the bread you're baking. You're don't look at him until he says something that surprises you...

🐻 "Oh, oh yeah right, right i almost forgot, yeah, silly me eh, almost forgot these..." he says producing your lacy underwear and dangling them from the tip of his finger.

🐻 When you turn around to see what he's holding you're shocked. You drop the knife thats in your hand and it clatters on the floor. You shouldn't bd surprised, you only left them there the day before, but somehow your strange out of character whim had completely left your mind.

🐻 "Oh..." you say your hand raised to your mouth... Alfie's still just holding them out, the scandalous garment just dangling between you, you blushing at the memory of your time together. Him waiting, stern expression, for you to take them from him.

🐻 "Oh..." he says watching you, wondering if you know you're in trouble or not... You've turned the most adorable shade of red and he's already struggling to hold his grumbling resolve. "Yeah," he says, "oh..." "Thats what I thought an all when I found em earlier right, I though 'oh" he holds his hand to his mouth mocking your earlier gesture... Making thst blush of yours all the worse because you can't tell if you're being teased or if he's really quite cross with you..

🐻 "An you know what yeah poppet? I showed em to Tommy fuckin Shelby yeah and you know he said 'oh' too, just like that yeah 'oh'..." now you know he's trying to make you squirm, trying to tease you. Because you know theres no way your Alfie would ever show another man something as private as your underwear.

🐻 You smile nervously, your blush and your shy giggle as you bite down to try and stifle it too much for Alfie to maintain any temper he might have been trying to build up.

🐻 Instead he steps up to you, traps you between the cupboards and his body, holding your underwear right up to your face, the lacy garment dangling right by your cheek, silk brushing your skin.

🐻 "These my little zieskiet, these yeah are a very dangerous object, and you right, you're a very good girl yeah, so you my dear, you should not be leaving these, dangerous things yeah, you should not be leaving dangerous things like this lying around right, cause you never know who's gonna find em..."

🐻 "Well that's why i left them in your drawer..." you say quietly, your biting on the tip of your thumb, looking at him so sweetly that its hard to imagine you could have done something as tempting as this.

🐻 "Yeah," he says, "yeah you did didn't you... Tell me poppet, cause theres somethin I'd quite like to know right, somethin thst interests me a great ammount... Why yeah, why would a sweet little girl like you do somethin like that?"

🐻 You would be so shy and blushy, you absolutely wouldn't know what to tell him, your voice abandoning you as you look back at him with doe eyes, biting on the tip of your thumb. When you try to look away he takes your chin in his hand and steers your view back to him.

🐻"Remember my dear little zieskiet, we don't keep secrets me an you? Nah, we don't have no secrets..."

🐻 He knows what you want and he's definitely just teasing you because his favourite thing in the whole world is to watch how you melt like butter for him. How you'll tell him anything he asks, do anything he asks, all he has to do is stroke your cheek and look you in the eyes.

🐻 Honestly he thought he was cross with you for distracting him at a crucial moment but now he's face to face with you, now he's got one hand on your waist the other holding your neck delicately, all he wants to do is reward you for your bad behaviour...

🐻 "Think you'd better pop yourself down over papa's lap..." you think he's going to spank you but when your eyes go wide he just chuckles, tells you not to look so worried...

🐻 Fingers you within an inch of your life whilst you're laid across his lap and then makes you promise him that next time you want his attention you'll just ask.

🐻 "Oh an poppet, promise me yeah, promise me you'll give me a little warning next time you try to play a trick like that... Don't like surprises me..." He's practically telling you to do it again.

🐻 when hes finished with you he'll give you your underwear back and then watch you put it back on in front of him. You want to hate his triumphant little smirk but you're still shaking from your high and when you've done as he asked he welcomes you back into his arms for a cuddle and tells you (almost) all about how your little trick nearly interrupted a crucial business meeting.

Arthur

🍂 He had been about to kill a man. That he was sure of. Seething with rage, red in the face with a hatred burning in him, that infamous formidable temper hazing his mind, taking over so that in 30 seconds time he wouldn't be Arthur Shelby anymore. He'd be the animal he fought with every day.

🍂 He'd stormed through the house on Watery Lane to the cabinet he kept his guns but when he'd thrown the doors open, practically frothing at the mouth, eyes narrowed and searching only for a weapon with which to destroy the man in question... When he threw open those doors he found a pair of your silky panties artfully wrapped around the barrel of his firearm.

🍂 Suddenly the man in question was the last thing on his mind. His temper wasn't quelled, all that anger and adrenaline was still buzzing around inside his body... He needed an outlet, something or someone to take it out on, lay into... But he couldn't think of anyone else in that moment. Not now he'd seen your underwear. Not now he'd been graced by a flash of memory, your naked body spread beneath him, your eyes rolled back in ecstacy as he'd fucked you the night before...

🍂 So his attention was diverted and a man's life has inadvertantly been saved because now rather than vengeance Arthur is only hungry for you...

🍂 He spends a little time hunting you down, searching around the house and then around the town looking in all your usual haunts. However he finds you exactly where he wants you. Sitting in his chair at his desk in the office down the factory.

🍂 "You," he says when he sees you, his eyes narrowed on you as he takes in the sight of you. How pretty you are, how innocent you're trying to look. It drives him wild and he can barely control his breathing as he locks the door shut behind him and pulls down the blind, "fuckin stand up when I'm talkin to you sweetheart..." He growls snatching at your wrist, pulling you to your feet.

🍂 he's rough with you but honestly that's what you wanted... Arthur's always trying to be on his best behaviour around you and the idea of sparking his temper, of having him be a little rougher with you.. it excites you more than you want to admit.

🍂 he pushed you back against his desk until you're perched just on the edge and when he steps between your legs, your feet hovering just above his shoes, he takes his revolver out and points it at you. You're nervous, your breath catching in your throat as you look up at him with wide, not quite timid eyes. You're starting to wonder if you've bitten off more than you can chew.

🍂 he uses his gun to push your dress slowly up your thigh, you can't take your eyes off it, the cool metal on your skin shivering you, causing goosebumps to ripple over your arms.

🍂 "You are in so much trouble..." He growls, "you don't wanna know how much fuckin trouble you're in y/n... No you don't..."

🍂 "Fuckin look at me eh love, when I'm talkin to you you fuckin look at me..." You're so nervous and the way his voice comes out gravelly and thick with adrenaline, the way you can hear his rage in every word makes you scared you might have gone too far, that you really are in as much trouble as he says you are...

🍂 he uses the barrel of his gun to push your chin up holding it there digging into you to force you to look him in the eyes when he's talking to you. You're trembling with nerves and sexual desire and he can see both your fear and your lust right there on your face. "Not so innocent now are you darlin..." He growls as he rubs his rough hands up over your thighs pushing your dress right up to reveal you...underwearless, legs spread, the sheen of your arousal catching his eye.

🍂 he can't get his belt undone quick enough but when he's dropped his trousers around his ankles he grabs you almost violently pulling you towards the edge of the desk, entering you suddenly, the shock displaced with pleasure almost immediately as he growls into your ear and starts thrusting in and out of you quickly.

🍂 his movements are sharp and desperate and he's fucking you in a way he's never fucked you before. It's divine, exactly what you'd hoped for.

🍂 "y'see sunshine a man was gonna die tonight right, I was on my way to fuckin kill him when I found your little fuckin surprise..." He growls as he's fucking you, you're so dizzy with pleasure that all you can do is moan in response clutching at his hair for your dear life. Your legs squeezing his waist so tightly as you shake and he manoeuvres you on his cock.

🍂 "Fuck," he groans, "I was gonna fuckin kill him and these fuckin things were the only thing that stopped him yeah so I reckon that must make you some kind of fuckin angel... Doin god's work eh? What kind of angel goes round saving lives with her cunt eh?"

John

🌼 Would be absolutely delighted. All his Christmases have come at once and he can't keep the grin off his face... can't and doesn't want to be subtle even if there's someone else in the office with him.

🌼 In fact if there is someone else in the office with them he'll definitely flaunt the fact that his girlfriend's 'forgotten' her underwear. He's so childish'y smug about it and he can't wait to get home to you.

🌼 He'd have them hung from his finger, slung over his shoulder as he leaves the office early, waving them in explanation when Isaiah shouts after him asking where he's going. Then as the office door swings shut behind him he'd tuck them into his pocket for safekeeping, whistling as he walks home.

🌼 You have put him in such a good mood, theres a real spring in his step and his mind is buzzing with all the thoughts of what he'll do when he gets home to you.

🌼 he'll come in having decided he's going to tease you, play a little trick on you. He'll call through the house for you with a real urgent tone to his voice as if something is seriously the matter...

🌼 and when he finds you sitting in the nursery with one of your friends and the children he'll put on this grave expression, apologise to your friend and send them away.

🌼 "I'm really sorry sweetheart but this can't wait and I need y/n," "God what's the matter John, the family? Is everything okay?" You'd be so worried asking him all sorts of questions but he wouldn't give you an answer until your friend has hurried out the door and you've put the little one in their crib.

🌼 then he'd turn to you, still with those serious, worrisome eyes, he'd place both hands on your cheeks and hold you carefully, looking as if he were about to break the worst news... "I'm sorry for ruining your day flower, if it could have waited you know I would have waited..."

🌼 you're almost panicking now getting more and more anxious by the second, "John what is it just tell me what's happened!" You beg and just like that he relaxes, grin spread across his face as he shrugs.

🌼 "Oh nothing major, don't fret flower... You just forgot these is all..." He says with a cheeky grin as he takes the underwear from his pocket and dangles them in front of your face by the tip of his fingers. He looks so unbelievably proud of himself you could honestly slap him.

🌼 if he wasn't so attractive you would definitely slap him... Instead you just stare back at him in disbelief, you try to get annoyed with him, "For fuck sake John you scared me!" You exclaim but you can't finish the sentence without letting out a little giggle.

🌼 "So..." He says lowering his voice, getting closer to you, his hand on your hip pulling your body in close to his, "if you left your underwear in my office this morning..." He starts, his breath warm on your cheek as he leans in to whisper in your ear, "what're you wearin under this dress?" "Why don't you take it off me and find out..."

🌼 So then he realises you definitely didn't just forget your underwear. The naive 'ad had kind of thought it a mistake, hadn't really thought you capable of playing such a wicked little trick but now he's realised your games, how you're more trickst than he'd first imagined he's actually very proud of the fact.

🌼 he'd pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and carry you to the bedroom, throwing you down on the bed where he'd crawl above you, looking down at you full of pride and mischief.

🌼 "So you were playin tricks with me were you flower?" He'd ask, his tone making you squirm and giggle, making you feel teenage and playful and like you might be in the best kind of trouble. You'd try to wriggle away from him, he's got that look in his eyes like he's about to either tickle you to death or fuck you hard and you can't tell which...

🌼 "hang on a minute flower where dya think you're going?" He chuckles stopping you going anywhere with just his hand on your shoulder pushing you into the mattress.

🌼 uses your underwear to tie your hands behind your back so you can't escape him. Then fucks you until you're exhausted, your hips aching from having your legs spread for so long... But you've come so many times you have that warm, all over tingle and when you finally collapse into eachothers arms you can't wipe the smiles off your faces.

🌼 it's going to start some kind of game between you, the two of you trying to outdo one another with mischievous little acts. But John always loves it whenever you leave something intimate of yours in his office and now you know you'll be rewarded for it you do it more often.

Bonnie

🍀 You'd been in his dressing room with him before his big fight, wishing him good luck. You always worry about him before he goes into the ring but you're also really proud of him, and there's something about being alone with him in the changing rooms before he goes out that really turns you on.

🍀 You run your hands over his chest, taking in the sight of him unscathed for the last time, and try to contain your desire. You find him so attractive when he's in the ring and you always let him know. It boost his ego and makes him walk out there twice as cocky.

🍀When you kiss him goodbye you give him a real, deep snog, one hand in his hair, the other hanging your lace black underwear from the gym peg behind your boys head. You want him to have a surprise for when he returns later triumphant.

🍀 He doesnt notice them when he's leaving for the ring, too in the zone, focussing and firing himself up - and your kiss certainly helped fire him up.

🍀All through the fight you're cheering him on just as you always would and Bonnie feels absolutely champion even when he's on the recieving end of a few nasty blows. He knows his little dove is in the crowd watching him and that makes him fight twice as hard because he loves showing off to you.

🍀 When Bonnie wins the fight you're delighted, you jump out of your seat and scream triumphantly for him. Blowing him a kiss when he looks over to you, his bloody grin far more attractive than it should be.

🍀 When he returns to the changing room victorious he's greeted by the Peaky Blinders and his dad, all of them congratulating him. Tommy is very impressed with his work and wants to discuss the next match with him but when something catches Bonnie's eye he follows the younger lads gaze and smirks, rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

🍀Because Bonnie is blushing a deep shade of red. The poor boy is so surprised he's speechless and Tommy can tell Bonnie hasn't heard a word of what's been said since he clocked your underwear hanging from that peg by the benches.

🍀"Alright lads c'mon lets leave our champion to cool off eh, looks to me like he's expecting company..." Tommy is still smirking and his overly casual tone as he draws everyone's attention to the underwear in question makes poor Bonnie even more embarrassed and awkward.

🍀There's a lump in his throat he's struggling to swallow down and all he can think about is you. He manages to stammer out a goodbye, promises to meet them in an hour down the garrison but Arthur laughs and shakes his head, "Nah you won't," he grins, "nah you fucking won't!"

🍀And Arthur's right, the only thing Bonnie will be doing in an hour's time is well, you.

🍀He is so turned on by your little trick that when he sees you he can barely contain his desire for you. He's usually pretty bad after a fight, all that adrenaline coursing through his veins but today he's even more fired up than usual and when you slip into his changing rooms and find him alone, he's got his hands on you in seconds.

🍀he does not want to wait for you to clean him up like you usually do and when you take a warm cloth and begin dabbing at his bloody lip and the cut on his brow he wraps his arms around you and pulls you down into his lap, grinning and teasing you, kissing your cheek and nuzzling into you, making it very difficult for you to do your job.

🍀You giggle trying to brush him off, though secretly really enjoying seeing how desperate for you he is.

🍀"Bonnie sit still, you're making this really difficult," you smile trying to dab at his brow, missing because he's ducked his head to kiss your neck and has already begun to undo the laces that hold your dress together at the back. His nimble fingers are making quick work of loosening them and you know you need to clean him up quickly because the second he's slipped your sleeves from your shoulders you're doomed.

🍀And in the end Bonnie wins and you're forced to accept that you'll just have to wait to clean him up later. He's got other plans for you just now.

🍀Will hold you down in his lap, a really energetic needy fuck before lifting you up and fucking your roughly against the wall. Even though he's going hard he still manages to be careful with you, making sure to hold your head in his hand to stop you bashing it against the wall etc...

🍀He doesn't tire quickly and honestly, your little surprise has given him more of a rush than winning that fight.

🍀Neither of you make it to the Garrison for those drinks and poor bonnie winds up on the recieving end of a lot of ribbing from the other lads. Whenever they bring it up he blushes and gets embarrassed but no matter how many times they ask he never shares the details of what happened after they left.

Isaiah

🐀 Is quietly impressed by your devious little game. He sees them in the drawer strewn artfully over his revolver and he smirks, closing the drawer shut again as if he hasn't even seen them.

🐀 He's biding his time see, playing the long game, dragging the desire out for as long as he can. He wants to wait long enough that you will have forgotten all about it. Or at least until you've come to the disappointing conclusion that he found your little surprise and didn't care about it, wasn't even remotely bothered by it...

🐀 And when weeks go by without him so much as mentioning them, without him even hinting at having found the little gift you left for him that's the conclusion that you come to. That he wasn't bothered, that he thought it was embarrassing and childish, that he doesn't even want to mention it because he thought it was classless and foolish and he'd rather forget all about it.

🐀 Meanwhile Isaiah is enjoying having your underwear in his drawer at work, whenever he has to reach in his drawer for his revolver he feels the black lacy pants there too and smirks. He can't wait to remind you about your naughty little trick... When he's bored at work he opens the drawer to look at them and imagine what he's going to do with you when he finally makes his move.

🐀 And then just as you've vowed you'll never make a stupid mistake like that again, just when you've decided never to behave so foolishly again... He'll have a surprise for you all of his own...

🐀 One night when it's just the two of you, in his room, fucking he catches you out.

🐀 He's on top, his cock deep inside you and your eyes are closed, your lips parted as he fucks you hard, you're right on the edge, your body shivering beneath him, your hands clutching at the sheets as you roll over into an orgasm.

🐀 And then when you moan he shoves your underwear into your open mouth and shocks you with them.

🐀 Your eyes open wide in shock uncertain what he's just put in your mouth and when he leans down, his nose brushing yours, his eyes lit up with mischief, clearly very pleased with himself, and grins down at you, "you lose these?" You feel your cheeks flush crimson. But you can't hide or look away because he's got you pinned down and he's still fucking you, his hands either side of your head, arms rippling.

🐀 All you can do is look up at him, and because you can't shy away, because you're forced to face up to the moment you're forced to acknowledge how much it turns you on... So your only response when he talks to you is your needy moans.

🐀 "Whats the matter mousy, did you think I'd just thrown them out?"

🐀 he will tease you about it relentlessly, loves trying to embarrass you, likes watching you go bright red. But in reality he loves this naughty side of you and he wants to encourage it, so when you threaten him one day, "if you keep teasing me I shan't do it again," he backtracks very fast.

Michael

☘️ In New York, you're his other woman and you're jealous. Hes been spending far too much time with Gina lately, sure you know they're the real deal, you're just his honey on the side but still... You should still get a taste of your man every once in awhile.

☘️ So you slip them between a stack of invoices and stock reports and send them up to his office. You may or may not be aware that his Gina is up there with him. That he's all snowed up, and she's going to be the one who takes the invoices and starts to filter through them...

☘️She's probably the one who phones up for you... Michael doesn't even realise whats going on until Gina has welcomed you into the office, studying you, asessing how much of a threat to her relationship you really are...

☘️ But when Michael sees you he panics, swallows a lump in his throat and scrambles to sit up and start paying attention..

☘️ "Whats this about love?" he says to Gina, "whats y/n doing here?" "Oh so you do know her name... Congratulations honey I guess you're more than just one of his whores huh?"

☘️ you feel a little bit like you've walked into a trap, like you've made a bed you're not actually capable of lying in, you're hardly even paying Michael any attention now, it's Gina who's your main concern. She invited you up here... What does she want with you? She certainly isn't looking at you like she's looking for a fight...

☘️ She's watching you expectantly, waiting for either you or Michael to speak up. Then she takes your underwear and tosses them to Michael who is so surprised by them that he drops them.

☘️ "What do you think honey, you think he remembers who they belong to? Tell us Michael baby, are they mine or are they hers..."

☘️ Michael would he totally speechless, he's looking between the two of you, thinking that this is some conspiracy against him but you're just as stunned as he is and you kind of feel like turning and running out of the door.

☘️ but when you make your excuses to leave and try to back out of the door, thinking it best to leave them to their inevitable fight Michael calls after you... "Y/N wait..." which makes Gina laugh.

☘️ "Yeah honey don't go," she says licking her lips wickedly, "the funs only just getting started..." She says teasingly, her eyes glowing with lust... But who for you can't tell anymore?

☘️ When she catches your hand in hers and tugs you back into the office your breath catches in your throat. But what she whispers in your ear leaves you speechless, your heart racing.

☘️ "C'mon y/n kiss me, let's see what he does next hmm?"

☘️ It would be an evening you will never forget.. Gina was only really dragging you into it so that she could get your measure, wanting to work out exactly how much of a threat you were... Wanting to use you to torment Michael. If he's fucking you then she wants to he too, he can't possibly be allowed to have something she hasn't got.

☘️And although Michael is quietly livid with you in the moment he can't control his own lust, his anger taken out on you when he lies you down on his desk and fucks you hard, your head between Gina's legs whilst she rides your mouth and smokes a cigarette casual as you like.

☘️ after that whenever you or Gina feel like a bit of fun you send your underwear up and down to one another slipped between memos. The three of you spend a lot of time in that office snowed up and fucking.

☘️ and although Michaels more than happy with the new arrangement he still makes sure to get you alone so that he can punish you for being so reckless.

☘️ he will bend you over his lap and spank you making you apologise with tears in your eyes as you promise never to be so careless again.

☘️ You will however be that careless again and he'll be more than happy with the consequences.

[leahsgirl]

casual | alessia russo x female reader

was it casual when it turned into more than a one time thing?

this has been in my drafts since july and i’ve only just got round to finishing it. if youse have any requests let me know!

_

you’re trying (and failing) to listen to leah’s tactical breakdowns in the locker room when alessia scurries in, late again. that was her thing these days, along with avoiding you like the plague while at training.

no matter what you did to try and interact with the blonde she’d always have an excuse to get out of the situation. you tried to not let it get to you, but when you go from not speaking to her laying in your bed every week - it’s bound to have its effect.

you look at the striker whose now sat on the opposite end of the room next to lotte and you scoff, annoyed at how a single night two months ago can cause such a rift between you both.

you was at a club, a local one you and your teammates regularly visited when there was something to celebrate - the occasion this time being arsenal winning the conti-cup.

katie and kyra had gone up to the bar to get some drinks while you and the rest of the group found somewhere to sit.

you remember wedging yourself next to beth at the end of the booth, leaning back against the leather as you listened in on the girls conversations. it wasn’t long before the irish and aussie duo came back with a handful of drinks and everyone raised their glasses “to arsenal, and stina for the winning goal!”

the alcohol kept coming and the music was only getting louder, you were sipping at your cocktail that you didn’t bother finding out what it consisted of when there was a dip in the seat. you looked to your side to see alessia, her hair was messy and her cheeks were a dark shade of pink - something that always happened when she got a little tipsy.

“come dance me with meee.” she leant forward so her face was practically inches from yours. you just laughed, “mccabe not a good dancing partner?”

alessia shook her head “i’m third wheeling her and caitlin.” she pointed to the pair on the dance floor who seemed to be in their own world.

you sighed “lead the way russo.” you wasn’t the biggest fan of dancing but you weren’t particularly bad at it either. either way, seeing alessia’s smile when you agree is always worth it.

the dance floor was packed and it was hard to move without accidentally catching someone’s arm or torso. alessia moved with ease next to you, singing along to the music. “show me your moves y/n” she leant in and spoke down your ear. her breath was hot and was enough to send your stomach flipping.

the pair of you danced to the beat, lessi’s arms wrapping around your waist. it wasn’t unusual for youse to be touchy-feely like this - it was a normal occurrence in your relationship, hence why you don’t take much notice when she moves her hands lower, stopping at the small of your back.

“i need some air.” the blonde pointed to the door and grabbed your arm, leading you through the sea of people and out into the cold london weather.

“you okay less?” you ask concerned to the girl who is now leaning against the brick wall. she nods her head and it’s silent for a moment.

you’re about to say something when she speaks up first. “your ex girlfriend,” she says, her voice low. “i never liked her y’know.”

you raise an eyebrow, clearly amused and a little caught off guard. “i know you didn’t,” you reply softly, a smirk playing at your lips. “you weren’t exactly discreet about it.”

alessia looks at you then, her gaze more intense than usual “i’m better than her.” she says suddenly and you’re now confused.

before you can even respond, her hand reaches out and gently cups the back of your neck, she pulls you in and suddenly her lips are on yours.

you’re momentarily stunned, because what the fuck. alessia is kissing you, your best friend, your straight best friend for that matter. it’s enough to make your head spin.

almost instinctively you kiss back, your hand finding her waist as she kisses with more urgency. she’s the one to pull back and you take the opportunity to catch your breath. “your place?” she whispers so only you can hear, aware more people have come outside for a cigarette.

the rational part of you is screaming no, not to give in to her, it’s only going to bite you in the ass. but there’s also that one voice, the one that reminds you that you’ve been hopelessly crushing on the striker since being on the england youth team, the one that tells you she must want you too if she’s asking such thing.

you’re too intoxicated to listen to your moral conscience and so you nod your head and soon enough your in the back of a taxi going back to your apartment.

and that’s how the cycle started. she’d come knocking at your door, most of the times the scent of liquor clinging to her, you’d go to the bedroom and discard clothes, she’d whisper sweet nothings into your ear and kiss down your body like you’re fragile, as if each touch may break you, but much enough tenderness to make you ache for more.

then by morning she’d be gone.

no explanation, no trace that she was physically there a few hours before. almost like she couldn’t wait to get out.

it’s even worse when your at home aimlessly scrolling through your socials and you see clips of her being posted with her holding a drink in hand while sitting on a random guy’s lap whispering down his ear, or when she’s getting too close for comfort with a stranger in the dance floor. you’d always end up throwing your phone down next to you out of frustration, willing at the knots that formed in your stomach to just go away.

it wasn’t until around the fourth time you tried to talk to her about it but it didn’t work. she’d have an excuse or say ‘can we talk about it later?’ when in fact ‘later’ never came.

you’d be lying if you said you wasn’t hurting from the whole thing, alessia was your closest friend, clinging to each other like you was fused at the hip and now you hardly get a nod off the girl.

leah concluded her speech and you got up off the bench, starting to make your way to the pitch for warm up drills.

you’re split into two groups and you’re running with the ball. everything feels normal until you catch a glimpse of blonde hair charging towards you, and before you can react alessia slides in hard. her boot colliding with your leg instead of the ball and pain shoots through your ankle, sending you sprawling on the ground.

“what the hell, less?!” you snap, taking laia’s hand to help you up, the anger bubbling to the surface.

for a moment you catch a slip in emotion from her, a slight furrow in her eyebrow before she’s back to hardly giving you the time of day “it was a clean tackle” she shrugged and ran back to her original position.

“russo, what was that about?!” jonas called from his position on the sideline not looking too pleased. alessia held her hands up in defence “went in too early my mistake.”

the swede shook his head, “be more careful, we don’t want more injuries.”

“what’s goin’ on with you two?” katie asked, appearing out of no where. you waved your hand in dismissal “god knows.”

the older woman looked between you both and hummed, not looking convinced. you can’t even blame her.

it wasn’t until everyone was getting into their retrospective cars about to head home that you was able to take your opportunity.

“alessia.” you hold up your hand for her to wait “can we talk?”

seeing that she didn’t really have any escape route other than to run you over (you’re glad she hadn’t gone that crazy yet) she sighed and leant an arm over her car door as she waited for you to get closer. “what’s up?”

“what’s up?” you mocked in disbelief. “what’s up is that you kiss me, come back to mine for sex” her eyes widened as you ranted, nervously turning her head in all directions to make sure no one was listening. “-make it into more than a one time thing, then ignore me like i don’t exist as well as nearly taking out my ankle.” you point to your foot where there is evident bruising and a small scrape. “it’s confusing.” you confess.

“it was a drunken mistake, i don’t get what’s confusing.”

you’re contemplating if she’s being for real right now because there’s no way she’s believing the words coming out her own mouth. “drunken mistake to the point it’s happened over ten times now?” you scoff at her comment. “listen alessia, i can’t keep doing this. it’s messing with my head, while it may be a drunken mistake to you each time, it actually means something to me and it’s clearly impacting us at work as well.” you feel a crack in the back of your throat and you’re annoyed at yourself for getting this emotional right now. “just figure out what you want before we both get hurt.”

you didn’t bother saying bye, you just turned back around and got into your own vehicle hoping she’d actually listen to you and take your advice.

_

it had been two weeks. well, two weeks and four days to be exact since yours and alessia’s carpark talk, and there had been absolutely no effort off the blonde to communicate with you. you stopped sort of hoping after a week, seeing how she was still giving you the cold shoulder.

one thing that did change though; she no longer rocked up to your place for a late night booty call.

you was at home, letting the warm water cascade over your body and giving you a temporary moment of relaxation. you was just so annoyed with yourself, if you never gave into her a couple of months ago all of this could of been avoided.

tilting your head back, you lathered the shampoo into your hair working through the knots and tangles. it’s fine you told yourself, if alessia’s decided she doesn’t want anything to do with you - you should move on too.

you hear a knock, only a quiet one but enough to kind of freak you out. this is why you hated showering when living alone - always a crippling fear someone’s out to murder you while you’re butt-naked.

maybe it’s just you hearing things, the insane heat and steam in the bathroom making you a little lightheaded. either way, you reasoned with yourself you should probably check it out and wrapped a towel around your body.

there was another knock so you know you’re not going crazy this time as you make it to the hallway. after a few twist and turns of your keys you opened the door ajar slightly.

“alessia?” the blonde was stood on the opposite side of the door sporting mismatched sweats, sunglasses and her hair that looked like its not been brushed in days.

“can i come in?” she sounded weak and your shoulders slumped involuntarily.

you opened the door just enough so she could squeeze in then closed it behind her. you saw how her eyes trailed down your body, a tiny smirk emerging. “nice outfit.”

for a second you forgot you was only in a towel and felt the blood rush up to your cheeks. “i was in the middle of showering.” you subconsciously crossed your arms across your chest. “what is it you want alessia? why are you here?”

the striker shifted her focus to her hands, fiddling with the rings and walked ahead of you so she was standing between your bedroom and living room.

“i’ve been thinking about what you said.” she turned around so she was facing you and moved the sunglasses so they was resting on her head instead. wait, had she been crying? “i’m sorry for being so awful to you.”

you let her continue, “i just- i’ve got all these feelings, feeling about you. and it’s scary y/n. i don’t know what to do with them, like i thought i was straight a few months back!” she said incredulously.

“and now?” you asked gently. you could see this was working her up.

“i don’t know.” she ran her hands through her hair. “i just like you and it terrifies me because i’ve already hurt you enough and most likely ruined our friendship.”

you placed your hand on her arm for comfort “you’ve not ruined our friendship less.” consoling the girl who now had tears welling.

“y/n i’ve been a dick to you.” she deadpanned and you couldn’t exactly disagree because she had been pretty rude.

“at least i know why now though. you’re confused i get it.”

alessia still couldn’t meet your gaze “i care about you, y/n. so much. but i don’t think i can keep pretending im ready for something i don’t understand. i thought maybe i could figure it out, but i don’t think im there yet.”

you stood there in silence for a moment, the reality of the situation sinking in. she wasn’t going to stay. she wasn’t going to fight for whatever it was youse had going on. and no matter how much you wanted her to, she wasn’t going to.

“okay.” you finally said, “if that’s what you believe.”

alessia let out a shaky breath, looking up at you “i’m sorry.”

without another word, alessia stepped forward, her hands gently cupping your face as she kissed you. her lips lingered on yours, soft and hesitant, like she didn’t want to let go but knew she had to.

you kissed her back, your hands resting lightly on her waist, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you. when she finally pulled away, her forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily.

“i’m sorry,” alessia whispered, her voice trembling. “i wish i could be what you need right now.”

you closed your eyes, ignoring the aching your chest was doing right now as you whispered back, "me too."

she pulled away completely then, taking a step back, her hands falling to her sides. for a brief moment, she hesitated, looking at you one last time before turning and walking toward the door.

as the door closed softly behind her, you stood there, feeling the sting of her absence, knowing that waiting for her wasn’t something you could do—not anymore.

the kiss had been a goodbye, even if neither of you had the heart to say the words out loud.

[ravcnism]

STRIKEOUT. ( PART 2 ) — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: An after-party. A conversation-turned-confrontation. Kenji finally meets the esteemed Toyo Bullet and struggles to define the difference between anger, terror, and infatuation.

# # TAGS: Even More Tension, Kenji Has a Good Relationship with His Team, Intense First Encounter, Domestic Sato Family Shenanigans

# # WARNINGS: Mature Language, Alcohol Consumption, Nothing Too Crazy, No Beta Again We Die Like Onda

Note: Okay, here we go: the actual second part. Again, I am so sorry for accidentally publishing my draft earlier — I am ill with embarrassment. But I’m very happy to know that people look forward to it! If you read the false-post, then you’ve only read half of the chapter. This one has over 3000 words more! Enjoy.

“It was a nail-biter of a game here at the New Tokyo stadium tonight, folks. Right off the bat, both teams were going neck and neck, toe-to-toe. And it seemed like neither one was willing to give an inch! Our home team managed to pull off a narrow victory in the end, and by narrow, I mean narrow, Kiba.”

“That is absolutely right, Sasaki. I truly have never seen anything like it in my entire career. And you know- you know I know a lot of baseball. You know I’ve been doing this for many years, but wow! Just- insane.”

“Truly a close call. Eight additional innings? To break the tie? I cannot believe it. Let me tell you, neither the Hiroshima Toyo Carp nor the Yomiuri Giants wanted to lose today.”

“If you look at the crowd, It looks like everyone’s been wanting to go home.”

Exhausted was an understatement. Kenji hadn’t felt this drained after a game since, well, only months ago: when he was still juggling the responsibilities of raising a baby Kaiju, carrying the weight of being Ultraman, and maintaining his reputation as a well-known baseball player. All of these, on top of the sleepless nights, no longer hindered him from his work. He usually left the stadium feeling brand new every single time — regardless of whether they won or lost. He had grown and learned to lean on people, to ask for help, accept defeat. Which was good and all that, but the point was: he was exhausted from this game. You had him panting for air like an overworked dog.

Shimura had Kenji on the field for longer than he should have been. While his younger, more egotistical self might have loved his moment in the spotlight, running base to base for six innings in a row was unsurprisingly really tiring. The teams had hit a clean tie by the ninth inning, and the tie-breaker lasted for eight more. You were eating their rookies alive and having their journeymen for dessert. When Shimura realized that Sato was the only one batting your pitches, he had him play for every round after the tie. The only times Kenji wasn’t on the field was when you weren’t either. Which wasn’t a lot. It scared him how you looked like you could throw that ball for days.

“Hiroshima’s L/n is just- an absolute unit, isn’t he?”

“He certainly is, Kiba. He certainly is. I mean his performance was near inhuman tonight. Each pitch was a gem and we- he really wanted us to know that he’s here, he’s ready, and he’s willing to change Japanese baseball. He was a major force out there on the field.”

“I cannot agree with you more. But credit where credit is due, we all know that the only reason the Giants are coming home with tonight’s win is because of none other than Ken Sato himself.”

“That’s right, Sato really put up a fight. L/n was throwing him off balance every time, but he always found his footing. I think tonight might have been the hardest I’ve seen him work. You know he- he usually makes his plays look effortless — disregarding last season’s slump.”

“I say he held his own very, very impressively. The team was right to rely on him. I know we’ve spoken a lot about their tension, but I’d say it’s their dynamic that really drove the point home. They were like- mirrors of each other out there. When you put two equal forces together, they deflect. You know what I’m saying?”

Kenji’s hand shook with a weakness he wasn’t familiar with. He stared at his calloused palm and noticed his fingers twitching. Shit. It really was some game. He might have been hitting the ball, but he was barely getting it through the field. Not only were your pitches fast, but there was weight to them, too. He was witnessing the caliber of your capabilities; understanding why you were the talk of every city.

The rest of the Giants came walking into the locker room, jeering and laughing amongst themselves. “That L/n is a real piece of work, ain't he?” Shirakumo, number 24, sat himself next to Kenji, unlacing his shoe. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Did you see the look on Tateoka’s face?” Yuki laughed, smacking his thigh. “Dude was scared shitless!”

“Hey!” Tateoka frowned in reply, tugging his jersey off his arms. “You try standing in front of that guy and telling me you don't feel a little threatened.” He shuddered, remembering the look in your eyes. Dark and pointed and menacing. “He was staring me down like he was gonna—”

“Eat you alive?” Kenji scoffed.

The team went silent, then erupted into a cluster of teasing ‘oooh’s. God. It reminded him of highschool.

“Oohh, yeah.” Yamada, number 21, slid over to him with a teasing tone. He wrapped an arm around Kenji’s shoulder and squeezed him closer. “I don't think I've ever seen Sato so shaken!”

He laughed, playfully pushing him away. He was also actually really sore on that shoulder. Hell, he could already feel the pain he’d need to go through just to get up tomorrow. He was going to need another ice bath. The rest of the boys jumped in on the jokes.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you Ken?” Tokuda opened his locker, grabbing a shirt from the top shelf. He whistled. “Like he wanted your head on a plate.”

Tanaka chuckled. “He wanted you dead, man!”

Kenji rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Let's not get carried away. I never said I was shaken.”

“But that last bat was sweet as hell.” Yuki nodded. “I doubt any of us would've gotten through the guy if it weren't for Sato.”

“Well, duh.” Shirakumo shrugged. None of the Giants denied it. Ken was their star player. And tonight proved it more than ever. “We owe you for drinks, bud. Give us a date and we'll treat ya’ to someplace you like.” He slapped Ken’s back affectionately, which elicited a pained groan. “Shit, sorry.”

Kenji’s watch started beeping. He flinched at the sound, eyes widening slightly. “Uh, see you in a sec, guys. I gotta take this.”

He was there a moment, then gone the next. Kenji rushed himself out the hallways and into an empty locker room to answer Mina’s call. “Hey!” he greeted, anxiously. A screen projected itself from his watch and lit up his face. “Hey. Hi. What's wrong? Everyone alright? I know I said I'd be home soon, but the game took way longer than–”

He was interrupted by cheering. His father clapped and whooped with excitement as Emi occupied the background, screeching with glee. Kenji could see the ground shaking as she was jumping around and doing her special dance. One of Mina’s arms was protruding from the wall and waving celebratory flags. It immediately put a smile on his face, easing the tension from his shoulders. He was always happy to see everyone alright, and even happier to see them as their silly selves.

“Kenji!” cheered Hayao. “That was an incredible game! You were unstoppable!” The professor chuckled. Emi picked him up into a hug, slightly toppling the camera over. His legs swung like a ragdoll’s. “Okay, okay girl-”

Ken laughed, slightly shaking his head. “Easy, Emi. Put Grandpa down.”

“It was a very impressive game, Ken. Perhaps one of your bests.” Mina’s calculative yet affectionate voice echoed from his watch.

Hayao fell to the floor with an ‘oof’. “You didn't tell me you were playing against THEE Mets’ Bullet!” He scrambled to stand up, barely leaning on his cane. “I wasn’t even aware that he was signed into the Carp!”

Kenji’s smile immediately faded. “Okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He was alright, I guess. And we don’t actually know if he signed into it or if he was traded. We barely heard anything about him from the press.”

“Alright?” Professor Sato gasped, appalled. “Kenji, he was spectacular! He’s a lot like you, you know. I’ve always suspected that the both of you equalled in skill, but to see it in action? Phew.” He wiped some pretend sweat off of his forehead. “What a show! Eight extra innings to break a tie? Unbelievable! I highly doubt that he was traded. Who in their right mind would purposely lose a player like that?”

Kenji scoffed. “He wasn’t that good.” His sore limbs would like to say otherwise.

“He had you chasing after his pitches like a dog!”

“I don’t like that analogy.”

“I ought’ to rewatch that documentary they made about him. You know they’ve done studies on the physics of his throws.”

“Dad.”

“And how fortunate for Hiroshima to have gotten him out of all teams! I can tell that this season is going to turn around really fast. Just today he’s already scored-”

“Dad!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Hayao chuckled. “I’m just very excited to see the both of you on the same field.” Kenji sighed, nodding his head. “Anyway, congratulations on the win, my boy. I’m so proud of you. I always am. Get home safe. It may be late, but we still have a lot of leftovers from dinner!” Emi made a noise that let him know she was waiting, too.

Going home sounded like heaven. Ken wanted nothing more but to rest. Maybe kick back and have a chocolate shake while he and his family watched cartoons to fall asleep. It was the perfect way to end his night. It had been an unexpectedly long day and he looked forward to tomorrow’s well-earned break. Eight extra innings might even win him a second day of rest. Or a third, if Shimura agreed not to schedule him for the next game. Which, he doubted, if it meant you’d be playing.

“I’m on my way.” He ended the call, and opted to take the fastest way out, desperate to avoid the press.

Ken collapsed onto the floor, snuggling into Emi’s arm. Having washed up and eaten his dinner, he felt the last remains of his adrenaline-fueled strength die out like a dwindling flame. He felt as if his limbs were about to fall off. “Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Emi didn’t much care. She seemed to be preoccupied by the new ( gigantic ) stacking blocks that Mina made for her. Ken sighed, sinking deeper into her arm. “She always smells so good after her baths.” The baby Kaiju’s warm and heavy grasp felt like a weighted blanket. It was a comfort that Ken would find nowhere else.

Professor Sato walked past them, chuckling into his coffee mug. “That, she does. You should have seen her earlier, you know. I’ve never seen her so invested in a game.”

Kenji hummed. “Is that right?” He rolled onto his stomach, facing Emi. “Hey. Baby.” He poked her cheek. “Is that true? Did you cheer for Daddy? I bet you did.” Giving into his cuteness aggression he rubbed at her cheeks. Emi expressed her annoyance through a small squeak. “God, that mean old Bullet had Daddy running laps, didn’t he? We hate him, don’t we?” Kenji pushed her cheeks up and down, leading her into a nod. “Yes we dooo.”

Professor Sato laughed. “Whatever happened to sportsmanship?”

“Whatever happened to loyalty?” He pouted. “My own father, rooting against me. I would never root against you, Emi.” Wanting to return to her blocks, Emi lifted Kenji up by his torso and placed him on her head. The batter laughed, laying on her with no protest.

“What!” The professor exclaimed. “I never said I was rooting against you. I was just— feeling enthusiastic, that’s all. For both teams.”

Mina entered the room, her mechanisms humming faintly. “Good evening, everyone.” The Sato’s greeted her accordingly. “I have a message for Ken.”

The mentioned Ken slumped into his daughter, rolling his eyes. “Here we go. I bet it’s the press.” He scoffed. “Let me guess, at least 30 emails asking for my statement. Or, better yet, it’s Shimura warning me not to miss the next game.” He raised his fist, mocking a reporter’s tone: “We’ve witnessed baseball history tonight, folks! Blah, blah, blah.”

“Actually, it’s an invitation for something else.” Mina hovered closer. “An event.”

This caught his attention. Kenji tilted his head. “For what?”

“A party, hosted by various sponsors.”

“Bit too early for an afterparty, don’t you think?” Ken sighed, resting his head on folded arms. “We’ve only won one game.”

“I suppose it’s to celebrate Mr. L/n as well.” Mina would shrug if she had the shoulders to do so. “His coming to Japan is quite a big deal.”

“Great.” Kenji was half-asleep by then, eyes already closed. “All the more reason for me not to go.” The professor had settled himself onto one of the desks, getting into some light reading. Emi had grown tired herself, and decided that she was not interested in the blocks anymore. Waddling to her spot, (with Kenji still on her head), she yawned, and opted for some much-needed sleep.

Mina’s light blinked. “I think you should go, Ken.”

The rightfielder cracked one eye open. “And why would I do that?”

“I think it would benefit you to interact with Mr. L/n more.”

“Mina, that’s literally the last thing I want.”

“Is it?”

Ken frowned. “What do you mean, ‘is it’? Of course it is.”

“Your vitals seemed to say otherwise earlier.”

Kenji scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was keeping careful watch of your vitals, as I always do. I have your daily status tracked and recorded.”

Kenji couldn't get rid of Mina’s voice in his head. Even amidst the warm crowd, with chatter swaying smoothly atop of light r&b music, he felt as if he could still hear her words ringing in the back of his mind. It remained vivid, though she had told it to him days ago. It was as clear as day. Like a broken record.

“Believe it or not, the heart beats differently for every emotion. There is a difference between fear, anxiety, excitement, and—”

Kenji stared at you from across the room, watching as you conversed with your team, nursing a glass of cold, hard whiskey. He watched as you bowed your head and smiled, listening for the faint, muffled sound of your laughter. He wondered what you were talking about; what joke might have made you grin that hard. He wondered why you seemed to illuminate a room, and why everyone seemed so drawn. His eyes were caught in the way the colorful lights sank into your hair.

“—Infatuation.”

You looked up, and your eyes met his. Kenji flinched. He felt his heart skip a beat. Shit, he thought. Mina was definitely going to catch that. She had probably already marked it down to tease him for it later. You held his gaze for longer than he could have standed and greeted him with that same annoying wink. The same one you gave him on the field. Confident, snarky, playful. You lifted your glass and took a sip, eyes still trained on his.

“What you may perceive as frustration for him might just be the opposite.”

Kenji's jaw clenched. Mina had no idea what she was talking about.

And he would prove her wrong tonight.

Like a soldier marching into battle, he waded through the party to make his way towards you. Was he intimidated? Yes. Unfortunately, he was. But he knew his way around a crowd, and his weapon-of-a-tongue knew all the right talk to make a conversation work. He was sociable like that. He was a poet, a wordsmith. If you weren't careful, one little exchange could have you wrapped around his finger. Some people called it his charisma, some blamed it on his irresistible good looks. Either way, Ken took it. He wasn't going to deny the fact that people loved talking to him — though he, admittedly, didn't really like talking to them in return. But he could do it. He could make it work.

Besides, how bad could you be?

With a newfound confidence, Ken dared to get closer. The distance between you and him lessened, and– oh, fuck, was that your cologne? He blinked. You smelled so good. Why did you smell so good? “Hey. Hi.” Shit. Abort mission. No, it's too late. Too awkward to back out. You were already looking at him. “L/n, yeah?” He spoke your name like he only just remembered you upon seeing you. When in truth, he hadn't stopped thinking about you since that damn first pitch. “Some game, huh?” Ken held his hand out for you to shake. ‘Fuck, I hope he doesn't notice how clammy it is.’

“Ken Sato.” It was the first time he heard your voice, as well as the first time he heard you say his name. He didn't like how his body reacted. There was a small shiver down his spine, a tingling flutter in his chest. You took his hand. Yours was cold. So cold. Kenji concluded that the icy glass of whiskey you had placed on the counter was to blame. He could feel your callouses against his. Your hands mirrored one another, marked with the battlescars of your sport. He was oddly sensitive to every detail. Touching you was.. a sensation.

You gave him a firm shake before promptly letting go.

“That's me,” he said, miraculously. Ken was oscillating between panic and confidence at a speed that likely wasn't normal. He was holding his own, though. Like the real champ he was. It was surreal to be standing in front of you without a ball to keep you apart. No bat, no competition. Just you, and a few shots of alcohol. “You adjusting into Japan alright?”

“As well as I can.” You shrugged. You had a tone to you; an elegant air of grace and self-assurance. You had no need to raise your voice because you knew he'd do his best to listen. It was pissing him off. “It's definitely different from the States.”

“I gotta say, I'm pretty surprised to see you here.” Ken usually knew what to say when it came to conversations. He never blanked out at interviews, nor left dead air hanging at conferences. But speaking with you made him feel like his vocabulary was on a limit. “After a game like that?” He whistled. “A lesser man would've taken a week off.”

“But we're not lesser men, are we, Ken?” A waitress passed by. Without the need to look, you had grabbed two shots of vodka from her tray. You handed the other one to him. “That's why you're here, too.”

He stared at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Exactly.” He took the shot from your hand and bumped the rim against yours. “Cheers.”

You grinned. “Cheers.”

Kenji tilted his head back, downing his drink, tasting the fire run down his throat. His face screwed up a little, but not enough for you to notice. You did the same, sighing the heat out of your nose. You allowed a small laugh to slip past your lips. “Japan’s liquor is surprisingly stronger.”

Kenji chuckled. “Yeah. If you know where to look.” The music felt like it was growing louder. He leaned in to speak to you better. “You know, I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting.”

You nodded. “Neither can I.”

“The Mets and Dodgers have always been at each other's throats, and yet—”

“Our schedules just never lined up.” You scoffed. “What are the odds of that, huh?”

It really was such a coincidence. If Ken had known that your interactions would've fired the press up as much as it did now, he would've fought to face you sooner. “When was it?” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Playoffs. 2019, I think. The Mets were set to face the Dodgers.”

“2019,” you repeated, brows raised. “I was there.” Kenji took notice of the way your head slightly shifted to the side. Like you were trying to get a better look at him. He swallowed thickly. “I was there.” You shrugged. “You weren't.”

“I was overseas.” He was wanting another drink. But, speaking to you was surprisingly not horrible. “Didn't get back until 3 months in. And when I did—”

“I wasn't there,” you chuckled. “Alright. I remember. 2019, I was gone for half the season. Injury.”

“The world was in shambles.” Ken grinned at you. A second waiter passed by. He grabbed you another glass of whiskey. He took scotch for himself. “See what I mean? It's like– divine intervention.”

“Big word.” To say that fate had a hand to play in yours and his meeting was beyond your beliefs. You didn't place your trust in things like that. But to know that he had thought about it was charming.

“Hey.” Ken shrugged. “Ya’ never know.”

The music shifted, and so did the lights. There was a moment of quiet between the both of you, and in that time, you found a common interest in people-watching. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor the absence of something to talk about. The two of you merely agreed upon the minutes it took to watch the party unfold. A good number of the guests were already drunk. The dance floor was alight and occupied mostly by women. Ken rested his weight on one foot, sighing at his still-aching muscles. He wondered if you were any sore too.

“They love it, don't they?” You leaned your back against the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Ken took quick notice of the necklace worn loosely around your neck. A silver dogtag, similar to his. “The drama. The intensity. Even the things that go on beyond the field.”

Ken shrugged. “It's baseball. Who doesn't?”

“Exactly.” You smiled. “Which is why it's important to always let the home team win the first game.”

It took a moment for Kenji to process what you said. He was distracted by the colorful lights, his favorite song coming on, and a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. “Mhm.” He reached over to take one, before— “Wait.” His brows knitted together. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Hm?” You had your lips pressed together into a thin line. Your expression feigned innocence, a stark contrast to your bold statement. “I said it's important to let the home team win the first game.”

Kenji made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. He couldn't believe his ears. Had he been standing by the speakers for too long? “No, I heard what you said. What I'm asking is what you're saying.” It was a dare of a reply, with a tone that commanded: go on. Clarify.

Your smile refused to leave your face. Nearing the batter, ever so carefully, you whispered:

“I'm saying you won because I let you.”

Kenji blinked.

And there it was. He knew you were too good to be true. Goddammit, he knew it! Beneath your seemingly-perfect self was something cold and rotten and he called it. He fucking called it. How thrilled he was to be correct, and oh, how utterly terrified.

But this was good. This was absolutely good. He needed something to hold onto, something to keep himself afloat. The next time he found himself drowning in your eyes again, he'd only need to remember that you were a grade A asshole. That you had the audacity to claim that you were in full control of the game. Surely it would solve all his problems.

Kenji broke out into a laugh. It started out as a small cluster of sarcastic chuckles, but erupted into actual laughter. You were funny. So, so funny. Unbeknownst him, you were watching with amusement. “Because you let me!” Kenji repeated, smiling, but, exasperated. Two can play at that game. “Right. Of course. Totally not because you're an average pitcher and I can bat anything you throw.”

“If that helps you sleep at night.” You shrugged. Your attention wasn't on him anymore. You were watching the crowd, disinterested.

Kenji felt his eye twitch. “That's big talk coming from someone who got struck out by a rookie.” He was referring to the eighth inning, when Tateoka managed to bat your pitch into a homerun.

“That's right, Sato.” You laughed, low and sultry. “Batted by a rookie. How could I have struck you out at the last inning but be batted by a rookie?” You tilted your head at him, brows knitted together. You spoke in a sickeningly soft tone. Like you were helping a toddler understand something simple. “Doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, does it?”

Kenji was growing flustered. His face was warm and his fist was itching to meet your cheek. Nobody spoke to him this way. Sure guys had been mean to him before, but it was mostly because they were threatened by him. They'd tried to put him down and pick apart his flaws, but what you were doing was something different. You weren't claiming that he was weak, you were claiming that you were stronger. You didn't deny the amount of talent that Ken had in his body, but you were fully convinced that you had more. You were bigger, smarter, and better. And you had him under your control.

“Oh, c’mon. Seriously?” God, your voice. It infuriated him. It drove him insane. You leaned in, closer, whispering your words, as if hearing you through the party wasn't hard enough. He could smell the whiskey on your breath. It mingled with your cologne. It was intoxicating. “Are you blushing?”

He scoffed in disbelief. “No.” Except he totally was. He could feel the heat radiating off of his face. His breathing had gone shallow, his heartbeat rapid. “Why would I– Tch. You— You don't know what you're talking about.” Holy shit. He was a mess.

He wanted so desperately to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew damn well he wasn't drunk enough to be acting the way he was. He was stumbling over his words stone-cold sober.

You were smiling. He was dying, and you were smiling. “You amuse me, Sato.”

Ken took a cautious step back, knowing that being that close to you for too long was only going to make him worse. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He had to retaliate somehow. Like a soldier fumbling for his sword, he had to get up and do something. “You don't think I don't know what this is? Where you're heading?”

You tilted your head. “Do enlighten me.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Sure. Celebrity-Athlete from America waltzes into Japan thinking he's the shit— that he can rule the world. He's a shiny new toy and everyone's just dying to catch a look. Nevermind that his old team traded him off, nevermind that he goes home to an empty penthouse. He's got the stats to prove his skills and he thinks he doesn't need anything else.” Ken dared to retake a step forward. He sort of regretted it when you didn't take a step back. “Well, guess what,” he continued. “I've been where you are. I know how you feel, what you're thinking.

Everything you're trying to be is a shadow of what I already was.”

There was a beat of silence. You weren't smiling anymore. You were staring at him, stone-faced, seemingly indifferent.

Kenji narrowed his eyes. “So don't go talking to me like you're any better.”

He didn't know what to expect. You were quiet for such a long time that he thought you were going to snap. He partially expected a punch to the chin. But you were calm. There wasn't a trace of irritation on your face. Instead, you set your glass of whiskey — now empty — on the counter behind you. With a sigh, you shoved a hand in your pocket. “Are you done?”

Kenji blinked.

“Let me tell you something, Sato.” You raised a brow at him. Ken felt his heartbeat pick up again. Your once-approachable gaze shifted into something cold and commanding. He swallowed thickly. “There is a difference between you and me. And that difference is the fact that I don't settle.”

Kenji was glaring at you, brows fixed together.

A teammate called you from the other side of the room. You nodded at him, once, then returned your focus to the Yomiuri Prince. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tauntingly, smiling at him as if you'd known him your whole life. “I hope last season’s slump accustomed you to the feeling of losing those points.”

Kenji wanted to say something, but his lips refused to move. Somehow, the blaring music in the background had faded into a muffled blur. All he could hear was your voice. Like a moth to a flame.

You winked at him. Again. And like before, his body reacted in ways he didn't like. You squeezed his shoulder once, before leaving to go to your friend. With your back turned against him, Kenji released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He clutched his chest, watching wide-eyed as you moved through the crowd. He could still smell your cologne. The last thing he heard from you was,

“I'll see you on the field.”

taglist: @fairy-lenaa @moonjellyfishie @witchygod — Thank you for your patience!

[cry4mina]

Heaven

(Nayeon x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 6.9k

Fluff/Smut

Summary: After being with Nayeon for a while, it's clear that she is your future. You both decide it's time to move in with each other, this fic takes place on move in day!

TW: Fluffy, cute, oral, fingering, a little nipple play, strap ons, teasing, lots of almost moments. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: @dovveri (the precious angel) had asked me to expand on this MONTHS ago and I took my sweet ass time (I stalled bc fluff is not my strong suit.) BUT it here now and I hope you enjoy it!<3

Also! Happy 6 Months to Cry4Mina! I know I say I'm grateful for all of you all the time but hitting 600 followers AND it being my 6 months of writing has really just been amazing.

Thank you all for taking the time to read my works, the support you've given me and all the love! I'm really looking forward to writing a lot of the drafts that I have, and interacting with everyone! I hope you all have such a lovely day/night and get you a little sweet treat! <3

The walls are blank. Every place where art once hung, now patched with tack and smoothed over. Boxes lining the small living room and parts of the kitchen…reliving some of the sacred memories built here when your phone chimes, interrupting the sweet thoughts. You to pull it out of your pocket to check the notification.

Nay: I’m outside baby (9:45am)

Not even bothering to reply, you just pull the door open to see a U-haul truck backed into the parking spot closest to your soon to be old front door and Nayeon no where in sight.

Looking around in confusion, you hear the clattering of the big metal rolling door on the back of the truck.

Eyes meeting the sound as it rattles, ascending upwards and stopping in place. A petite Nayeon lifting it and climbing into the back to push it all the way to the top, revealing the empty truck she rented just for the things you decided to bring along with you.

She leaves you completely breathless, per usual…but today, being the day you were moving in together, your heart throbbed with love and affection for your beautiful girlfriend.

White sneakers with long white socks up to her knees, black shorts that were intentionally too short, a top that had hints of purple and a trucker hat to finish the look off. Appearing as if she just got out of a photoshoot or filming a video or something more extravagant than helping you move.

Your jaw hit the floor as she half jogged up to you, and jumping into your arms and wrapping her legs around you, expecting you to hold her up while her forearms found their place on your shoulders and her hands were interwoven with themselves.

Being sure to catch her, providing some support from under her, she lean back and grabbed your cheeks, kissing them one, two, three times before completely beaming at you from the few inches she had of height on you in this position.

“Hi, baby!,the ” another kiss, this one on the lips, to taper off her sentence while her hands found their way around your neck once more.

“Hi, my love, you look amazing.” absorbing her like flowers take in the sun, feeling her skin on yours was magic.

“Only for you.” watching as her eyes convert to a half lidded seduction, her tone emanated a specific type of want that could only be translated privately, very very privately.

Nayeon reverts the seductive face, unwrapping her legs and stand on her own, keeping her hands connected around your neck and pulling you into an even bigger hug, fingers tapping on your shoulder blades to the song she was humming, before shimmying in your arms.

Both of you start giggling before she finally lets go of you, very obviously excited about this adventure you were going on together. Her hand finds yours, lightly gripping it and swinging it around while she talks.

“Okay, so the movers should be here any minute - we are loading what you’re keeping into this truck” pointing to the one that she pulled up in.

“And anything we are going to donate will go in the movers truck, they will drop it off and then we will go…home, the movers will meet us there and we will get everything organize. Sound like a plan?” the loving look she gives you when she says home made your knees weak, jelly filled joints fighting to hold the weight of the love you held for her every thing she did, but especially when she said something sweet or looked at you a certain way.

“Sounds good, babe.” uttered over the squeaking of the brakes from the truck of movers that just pulled up and her squealing at the sight of them.

The 3 men come over, asking you for detailed instructions on what to keep and what to put in the “donation” truck. Most of the things you were keeping was in boxes but you were keeping your king sized bed, Nayeon was too in love with it to even think about getting a new one.

“But it’s already broken in on my side, I don’t want to do that again. Don’t you like sleeping on a cloud? I can’t believe you’re considering a new one…” argued a few weeks ago when you half way discussed what furniture you wanted to keep.

Both of you decided the living room would be the focus first, you’d want a new couch if anything. Wanting to pick out the decorations together for each room would be a fun bonding experience and that was something you were very much looking forward to.

“Alright, we will get started.” One of the men said, walking into the living room and starting with the couch you weren’t going to keep, taking it to the donation truck while you and Nayeon focused on the boxes.

Slowly removing everything from the apartment until it was completely empty, you couldn’t help but have a little moment of sadness, not that you were upset about this new chapter in your life with Nayeon, but more so the memories of this apartment and what it meant to you.

Nayeon sees you staring at the bare walls and taking the last walk through of the place to make sure everything was taken care of. Waiting for you to have your moment, she doesn’t rush you, simply leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed, silently watching the emotions change across your face.

It’s an emotional transition, even if it’s a good one. This place was where you built your relationship, the foundation of the steady and healthy bond you and her shared. Moving in together was a massive step that you were more than ready to take, but you couldn’t help allow the nostalgia consume you for a moment as a few tears roll down your cheek.

Feeling her eyes on your back, the edges of your mouth turn up knowing the exact look she’s giving you before you even see it.

“I can feel you watching me” giggling through the droplets that threatened to drip down your chin, you try to wipe them before she can see.

“Don’t try to hide it, I know you’re crying!” she walks up behind you, giving you a hug from behind and resting her head on your shoulder blades.

Sniffling while trying to gain your composure again, Nayeon just holds you until your breath smooths out more. Rocking you from side to side in attempts to comfort you.

“Don’t worry, baby” spinning you around carefully so you can face her; she likes to make eye contact when she speaks.

“This is going to be great! And do you want to know the best part?” leaning into you, putting her weight on you to make you hold her back.

“What’s the best part, my love?”

“We get to do it together!” Nayeon practically tackles you to the ground, smooching you all over the face and tickling you in the process.

Rolling around and trying to avoid her hands as you both laugh, you love how playful your relationship with her is. She always knew how to make you smile, in every single way you could imagine.

Once she put a halt to the tickle fest she brought on, she was straddling you on the floor, hands resting on your stomach and your hands were on her thighs. You sit up, placing your hands on her ass and scoot her into you.

Faces so close you can feel her breath on your lips, you can tell she’s riled up from the way you’re looking at her and your hand placement, it was easier to get her worked up - easier than she would like to admit.

Reaching your hands up from your girlfriend’s thighs and trailing them up her chest, watching as her breath hitches when you pass her collarbones.

Gliding your digits up her neck and to her cheeks, you feel her flush - a noticeable wave of heat rushing through her.

Sight going from her lips, up to her eyes, and then back down to her lips again, you bring her mere centimeters from your mouth.

Her breathing speeds up.

Feeling her heart race through your fingertips, the way her eyes were locked in on you, and the way she held you close without an inch of wiggle room…you knew exactly what she was thinking about…and what she wanted.

“Baby” breathed to her, teasing her with your whispers and the distance between your lips.

Nayeon’s is completely enthralled, looking like she wants to beg for you to touch her. Eyes returning to their half lidded state from earlier, she starts rocking her hips on your lap, you stop her immediately.

“Not yet, baby. We still have work to do…and I want pizza for dinner.” kissing her forehead before standing with her still attached to you.

“You’re like a koala, you know that?” chuckling at her for not letting go of you, bringing her outside with you and locking the door.

She whines really loudly, “Fuck you, ugh”

“Whyyyyyyy? What did I do?!” gasped back in fake shock, you knew exactly why she was saying it. She rests her head on your shoulder.

“Because, you did that on purpose!” Pouting at the state she’s in.

“Did what on purpose, honey?” kissing her cheeks while walking her to your car that she was planning on drive to the new place.

Nayeon gets down off you and sticks her hands out for your keys with a fake attitude, you dangle them in front of her. She attempts to snatch them, but you’re too quick and she misses.

“Did what on purpose?” poking her chest lightly just to get a little rise out of her.

She leans into your ear closely, playing with the collar of your shirt before she speaks soft sultry words right into you.

“For making me wet and making me wait to feel you.”

Jaw dropping for a second time tonight, she kisses your check tenderly. Winking at you while she bites her lip. She takes the keys out of your hand and replaces them with the U-Haul keys.

“Last one home buys dinner!” rapidly getting into the car and backing out of the driveway.

Still standing in the same spot, unable to stop yourself from smiling at how goofy she is. Shaking your head while giggling, it’s impossible not to fall deeper in love with her by the day.

Turning around one last time, admiring what was home in the afternoon light before getting into the truck and going to what was your next chapter of life.

—

The drive wasn’t too long, maybe 30 minutes at most. Driving in silence, you’re excited to get settled in your new place. Living in the memory of when you and Nayeon toured the apartment you’d be moving into.

Hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, massive windows that were floor to ceiling, and the lighting fixture in the dinning area that Nayeon fell in love with.

Remembering the way she exclaimed “baby, look at this!” At every turn, around every corner, you both knew this was the place you were going to start the adventure of living together.

The island in the kitchen was what you were particularly excited about, having more room to cook for her when you had a moment. She didn’t know that was the intention, but being able to surprise her with it some night would be great.

Turning the corner to the complex, you already see your car in the assigned spot. Nayeon is leaning on the drivers side door, scrolling through her phone when you back the truck in next to her.

“Ha! Dinner is on you tonight!” Happily skipping over to the drivers side door as you hop out of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah!” waving your hand and rolling your eyes before smirking at her.

“Pepperoni and extra cheese, please!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s go check out the place!” putting your hand out in front of her with puckered lips, waiting for your keys and a kiss, she’s happy to give both.

—

As you reach the elevator, you notice the weight of your keys is different. Looking down while stepping into the metal box what was going to get you to the floor you apartment was on - you notice a light blue key with an N and a heart on it.

Toying with the key in your hand, you look up at her to see she’s distracted and doesn’t know that you’ve noticed the cute little surprise she’s placed on your key ring while she was waiting for you to arrive.

“Baby” called to her softly from a foot away.

Nayeon looks over at you, eyes looking directly into yours and then down at the keys in your hands, showing her the one she placed on your keyring.

She smiles, pulling her keys off her belt loop, flashing you a key with your initial and a heart next to it, in your favorite color.

“I thought it would be a nice cute little surprise for our move in day.” intertwining her pinky with yours.

“Thank you, it’s so cute and thoughtful.”

The elevator dings, sliding the doors open and allowing you and your girlfriend to step into the hallway.

Taking the corridor to the right, Nayeon basically pulling you to the door of your new home. The door was black with shiny brass numbers reflecting back to you.

She slips her key into the door, the heavy lock turns and clicks into place. Nayeon looks over at you and smiles before pushing the door open and squealing in excitement, jumping in place. Gosh, she’s so cute.

Grabbing her hand before she can run inside, you pull her close to you, pressing your body against hers. She’s going to take this as you teasing her, but really you just had something you wanted to do.

“Wait a sec, I think we should be a little traditional about this.”

“Traditional?” Scoffed at you while her hands are wrapped around your waist.

“Yeah, traditional…” placing your hand behind her legs and scooping her up into your arms, bridal style, before she can protest.

Nayeon squeals at being lifted up but her arms instinctively wrap around your neck. When she realizes what you’re doing she starts giggling at the sweetness of the moment.

Unable to take her eyes off you as you take your step over the threshold into your new home. One of her rather large hands descends to your chest, placing it flat under your collar bone.

“Home.” said lightly under your breath but loud enough for her to hear you, panning the emptiness of the apartment you were about to fill with not only your physical things, but the love you had for each other.

Removing her hand off your chest, she uses her fingers to turn your head towards her and kisses you softly.

“Home.” Pointing one of her fingers into your chest, bring her lips back to yours.

Resting your foreheads together, you lower her legs to signal her to stand on her own. She whines in protest, leaning against you as she fights against regaining her balance.

“Are you ready?” Grabbing her hand, looking her in the eyes and smiling.

“Never been more ready, actually.” Kissing the top of your hand, grabbing her phone and checking her messages to see the other team of movers was outside and ready to move the furniture into your new space.

“They’re here!” Gleefully jumping in place again before heading for the door.

“Let’s go!” Following closely behind her and slapping her ass playfully.

Nayeon lets out a soft moan. Whipping around to look at you to see if you’ve heard, covering her mouth with her hand trying to hide her own shock and the flushing in her cheeks.

Eye widen as before you let out a thunderous laugh.

“Don’t worry, baby. We can take care of that later.” Kissing her forehead and leading her down to the elevator by her hand, with her trying to cover the flushed cheeks she now wears in embarrassment.

—

“Hmm…maybe a little more to the left? This doesn’t feel centered to me.” Nayeon is pensive, finger on her cheek as she asks the movers, yet again, to move the bed over so it’s perfectly centered in your new bedroom.

“Babe, it looks fine where it is!” Chiming in from the closet where you were hanging all of the clothes you had smartly packed on hangers so they’d be easier to deal with.

Organizing the closet so the left side was hers and the right side was yours, you could hear her sigh from the other room.

Picturing her exact movements in your minds eye, you knew she was shifting her weight from one leg to another, biting her pointer finger with her other arm crossed over her chest.

“Okay…I hear you…but what if we scooted it over just a little bit to the ri-“ sneaking up behind her and silencing her with a soft bite to the neck causing her to stifle a whine.

“I think it’s perfect where it is, Nayeon.” kissing her cheek before you turn your attention to the movers.

“Thank you so much for your help today!” shaking their hands as they leave the room and walk out the front door.

“Baby, I really don’t know if I like the bed in this position or not.” Nayeon’s hands are on her hips again, trying to figure out if it would look better centered on the other wall.

“Honey…we can rearrange any time we want. No worries, let’s just get the rest of the house together, okay?” you throw the sheets at her for her to make the bed she was scowling at and head back to continue what you’ve been doing in the closet.

Nayeon followed you into the closet, sheets in hand, with a pout that would make anyone drop what they’re doing to please her.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Pausing the organizing of your clothes as you spoke to her.

“I’m hungry and the bed is crooked.” she sighs and give a playful little stomp, throwing the cutest tantrum you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll order the pizza now then, okay?” pulling your phone out to send through the order you already prepared for the two of you.

“But what about the bed?”

“We can fix it later, okay? Just put the sheets on it and we will worry about it after dinner.”

Nayeon rolls her eyes and heads out of the closet to complete the task at hand.

After about 5 minutes goes by, a frustrated grumble echoes through the room, followed by shouting and sighing.

“Ugh! This bed is crooked! It’s not freaking centered!” Nayeon huffs as she finishes putting the sheets on, trying to scoot the heavy bed and frame over an inch or two to make it “centered”.

She’s so dramatic.

You adore this part of her.

“Let me see.” Finishing up the last of the closet and stepping out to see what she how “crooked” it was.

The bed was straight against the wall…there’s no way it could’ve actually been crooked. Giving her a side eyed glare, you lightly push her shoulder.

“It’s perfectly straight, what do you mean?” Chuckling at her while you put your hands up in confusion.

“No, it’s not! Look!”

Nayeon squats down in front of the bed, point and explaining how it’s not lined up with the floor boards and all you can do is admire how passionately she’s making her case about something so silly.

Just smiling, you walk up to her as she continues on her rant about the bed.

“So you see, that’s why it’s not straight because this is…not…” tilting her head up, eyes lacing every part of you as you step up to her and place a finger under her chin.

“I think it looks good, don’t you?” leading her to stand, her eyes still not leaving you.

Nayeon stutters through her mentions of now suddenly agreeing with you.

“O-oh, uhm…y-yes, I don’t t-think we should move it at all.”

She’s so cute.

Hooking a finger into on of her belt loop, tugging it so she somewhat falls into you. Using that to your advantage, swiftly turning and falling yourself. Landing flat with your back on the bed with her strategically on top of you.

Her surprised face hovering over yours, she hoists her leg over your torso, straddling your hips instinctively and putting you right back where you were only a few hours ago at your old apartment.

“Oops, wow! I can’t believe you would trip like that. So clumsy of you! Even if I do love meeting you like this…” tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“And what if I meet you like this” leaning in and brushing her lips against yours, the warmth between her legs gives a flash of familiarity, and her sultry tone brings a rush of endorphins, melting your heart and ruining any sense of composure you had.

“I can feel your heart beating…do I still make you nervous?” whispered against your lips before connecting them completely.

Soft and slow turns into passionate and needy very quickly.

The steamy make out session escalated into you tugging Nayeon’s shirt off, trying to minimize the time your lips spent apart.

Nayeon’s tongue tracing your lips before she stood up and started undoing on your belt, the clattering of her impatience matching the buckle as it hit the floor.

Hastily unbuttoning your pants, tugging them down without hesitation. She needed you, rapid movements serve as proof of her hunger, the way she doesn’t care how aggressively she’s ripping the black denim off your thighs.

Haphazardly tossing each piece of clothing as she rips it off you, first your belt, then your pants, and your shirt following very closely behind, your hands helping discard the unwanted fabric.

“Finally…I get to have you how I’ve been wanting you allll da-“

The doorbell cuts her sentence off.

“You’re kidding…” Nayeon’s body tenses, sighing as she runs a finger down your stomach as she rolls her eyes in disdain at who ever just pushed the button that caused the chime that stopped her from taking you the way she had been imagining.

“That would be dinner.” Giggling at her frustration, only adding to it.

Nayeon just rolls her eyes and stands up, grabbing her shirt and throwing it on while mumbling to herself and mindlessly flicking off the front door before opening it.

You opt to just slip on a pair of black sweat pants and walk around in your sports bra, leaving your bedroom and hearing her say thank you to the pizza delivery boy before latching the door shut and locking it.

Grabbing some paper plates from the kitchen, bringing them to the empty living room and sitting on the floor next to Nayeon, and turning the TV on to put on a random YouTube video while you guys eat.

Taking a few bites and then looking over at her, you see she’s scrolling through her phone with an annoyed look on her face.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“What do you think about this?” Flipping her phone around to show a coffee table with a glass top made of light wood and gold accents.

“Oh that’s cute!” Leaning into her and scrolling to see if it had any matching sets.

“So I was thinking” she starts, “what if we did like a sage green with gold accents and with like light wood and a lot of plants for the living room.” taking a bite of her slice of pizza and doing a little happy dance now that she’s finally eating.

“I love that idea but let’s do a little contrast.” Clicking on the black version of the gold laced table and showing her.

“Wait…you might be on to something here.” Scrolling down and seeing the matching furniture that goes along with the table.

“I did save a couch I saw, let me find it.” quickly pulling up the lighter green couch she had in mind and showing it to you.

“Oh, babe, that’s perfect!” Leaning over and kissing her cheeks before taking another bite of your pizza.

“I think it would match so well with the gold accents and…” she rattles on about

Spending the entirety of dinner talking about placement and furniture, you find yourselves tired from a long day of planning, organizing and moving things around.

Taking it upon yourself to pack up the left-overs from dinner in the kitchen, you can’t help but wonder where your girlfriend has gone off too.

“Nayeonieeeeeeeee!” called out when you hear her cackle from the master bedroom.

“I’m in here, baby!” echoed off the walls to the empty living room.

“You better not moving that bed again!” Sliding the pizza box into the fridge, laughing to yourself about the joke you just made.

“I’m NOT! Ugh!” you walk into your new shared bedroom to see Nayeon on FaceTime with Momo, talking about the moving process and how smoothly it went with the company she recommended.

Catching her attention was fairly easy as you were still very shirtless and the sweatpants you wore to cover up were a little big on you, falling off almost so the waistband of your underwear was sticking out for her to see.

“Momo when you come over tomorrow, we will give you a tour! Besides we still have some…things to…” she’s staring right at you, eye shifting from your exposed waistband up to your bare torso.

An idea pops into your head, an idea that would bring her to her knees and back to where you were an hour or two ago.

Making eye contact with her while she zones out, you tug on the string that is keeping your sweatpants anchored on your hips, letting them drop to the floor before you step out of them. Her jaw drops at how suddenly exposed you are with only your panties and your bra covering you…for now.

Slipping your fingers under the hem of what was covering your chest, you slowly pull it off over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. Twirling the bra by it’s strap around your finger, you fling it at her, it lands on her legs.

Nayeon’s eyes bugged out of her head, like a cartoon character, as she sat up - readjusting her position out of what seemed to be a little bit of gay panic mixed with anticipation.

“….hey, uhm…let me call you back.” Nayeon quickly hangs up the phone as Momo’s protest began through the speaker.

“Wait! Nayeon we have to talk abou-” click.

You have her right where you want her.

She stands, hastily making her way over to you. Hands reaching out to make contact, she’s pulling you in close, laying her hands on your hips and tracing small circles that travel to your lower back and to the waistband she was just staring at.

“You have all my attention, honey.” kissing your cheeks, trailing feather-light kisses down your jaw line and onto the side of your neck before bringing her lips back to yours.

Within minutes of this sweet dangerous kiss beginning, you’d devolve into a melted version of your former self with only her name stuck in your throat and the flavor of her lips at the tip of your tongue as it familiarizes itself with hers again, noting every predicted movement and sway of her as she holds you in front of her.

Arms raising up and resting on her shoulders, your fingers weave with her hair, pulling her into your further and pressing your chest against her same purple shirt from earlier.

“Take this off.” parting from her for only a moment to give her the command to remove the article of clothing that was in your way before returning your mouth to hers.

Maintaining eye contact, she rips her shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere else and continuing on the entanglement you were creating with her, unsnapping her bra and letting it chase her shirt to else where.

Now shirtless with you, chests pressing up against each other, she takes charge. Leading you to the “crooked” bed and pushing you down onto the sheets, playfully.

“Finally,” she breathes, unbuttoning her shorts and letting them fall to the floor and kicking them out of the way.

“I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you this morning. And when you carried me over the threshold?” clenching her entire body at the memory, a familiar shutter cascades through her body.

“I never wanted you more than in that moment…except for maybe right now.”

Watching as she relaxes again, her hands on either side of you, and she’s making half lidded eye contact with you when she brings a hand down your stomach, ghosting it over your underwear and reminding your body of what it was feeling earlier.

Leaning down to kiss you again, she’s intensifying her touch on you. Rubbing your clit through the now damp fabric of your underwear and letting you moan and whine into her mouth. The touch is fueling every fire you’ve felt in the last 12 hours.

“Fuck…Nayeon” whined into her mouth as she pulls your panties to the side, drenching her finger in your slick, coasting it up and down your slit while you match her movements with your hips.

She spends a moment kissing and toying with your chest, flicking your nipples with her tongue, lightly grazing her teeth over them. She slithers back up to your face and kisses you again.

“Finally touching you after a long day of wanting to feel you like this…” bringing her hand up to lick your essence off her long digits.

“To taste you like this…” bringing her lips down to yours, kissing you deeply and letting your own taste linger on your tongue.

Usually being the one that maintains composure, you were finding it difficult to keep the pace steady, after all the “almost” moments earlier today, you were having thoughts of just flipping her over and doing all the work.

Intense bodily reactions that are out of your control fling you into desperation, body begging for more of her touch, and gripping her harder to make sure she knows what you want, though it was obvious, your body language gave you away.

The rocking of your hips, the repressed moans, the less than pure lust that burned you from the inside were shinning through every single motion you made.

Nayeon noticed.

Her teeth graze your ear before she descended down your body with small bites, intentional swipes of her tongue and soft sweet pecks in between.

It wasn’t long before your ass was hanging off the edge of the bed and she was on her knees between your legs.

Without even looking at her, you can feel the smirk she has as she tugs on the elastic that was holding what was in her way up, and removes it - almost ripping it in the process.

“Damn, baby. You look so fucking good like this.” running her thumb up and over your clit a few times, teasing your entrance with every few passes.

Brain glitching under her touch, the cravings were too strong and you were too addicted to contain yourself any longer. Thrusting your hips down on her next tease of your entrance, her thumb slips inside you causing a guttural moan to leave your throat.

“Someone is eager.” giggled at you before removing her thumb, licking your slick off of it.

Whining in protest, you are about to beg for her when you feel it. The warmth of her tongue, starting at the bottom of your entrance and snaking its way up your folds and over your clit before latching onto it.

“Nayeon, ple- ooooh fuck!” hissed out in pleasure, hands flying up to the back of her head, wrapping her hair up in your hands and holding it into a makeshift ponytail as her tongue made work of you.

A delicate dance that she was more than good at, teasing and flicking at your sensitive bud before finally starting the pattern that she knew was what was going to keep you right where she needed you.

Sucking and smacking while she whirled her tongue in tightknit circles around your clit, completely focused on the way your back was arching, body twitching underneath her, and the sounds you were making for her.

Moaning her name, the breathy “oh fucks”, and the unprovoked “please please please” always made a mess of her underwear. She loved to hear you in this way, loved to have you in such a vulnerably delicious position to which she could bring you every ounce of pleasure you could ever want.

The build up ensues, the tightly woven tension in your core was stacking like tetris on the want that had been taunting you all day. Deep, primal yearning for your partner was all consuming and it was apparent that the feeling was mutual.

That’s when you feel it, her long pointer finger teasing your entrance, waiting for you to do exactly what Nayeon knew you would. Thrusting your hips down onto her finger and grinding onto it, doing the work for her while she quickened the pace of her circular movements on your clit.

The vibration of her chuckling with her mouth still attached to you was excruciating. Giggling at your neediness only made the desperation worse, vibrating and stimulating the very sensitive bud causing the pot to boil over, burning the coil that threatened to snap at any moment.

“Baby…oh fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum” pulling her head closer to you and grinding harder down on her finger.

Nayeon smiles, curling her finger up one, two, three times and then rips herself away from you.

Completely dismantling everything she just built, ruining the orgasm and sending you into a spiral of desperation and anger.

“Fuck, WHY would you do THAT?!” panting out furiously as you sit up on your elbows so you can glare at the cheeky smile she’s got plastered on her face.

Rolling your eyes and slamming yourself back down on the mattress, you hear the sound of leather sliding across the wooden nightstand. Nayeon stands, stepping into the harness of the all too familiar strap-on that was very present on nights like this.

The actual strap was different than your usual one, noting that the rings were more angular, the color of the leather was slightly darker, and you couldn’t help but notice the new attachment that was fixed to the strap that would go between Nayeon’s legs.

Slipping it inside herself with ease, a whimper leaving her lips while she buckled herself in and prepared for what was to come.

Feeling yourself drip in anticipation, the pooling of slick underneath you was rapidly growing out of control as Nayeon tugged your hips closer to the edge of the bed.

You could feel the tip of the familiar toy pressing against your folds as she leaned down and softly bit your chest. Shivers of anticipation radiated through your bones as you patiently waited for her to make the initial thrust that would turn into you becoming undone underneath her.

Breathing picking up for both of you, the tension so thick between you that every touch from her felt like jolts of static electricity that had the power of lightening.

“Baby…” unable to wait anymore, you had thought about her this way all day, on top of you with that half lidded smirk.

“Please.” Cupping her face, bringing her closer to you while lifting your legs up and wrapping them around her hips.

Taking the hint, she eases her hips forward, sinking her strap into you painstakingly slow, inch by inch until she was completely bottomed out inside you.

Moaning into her mouth as you continue to passionately make out, she takes it slow with you. Sensually rocking her hips gently and letting her hands wander your body while your tongues explored each others mouths.

Hardly any words shared at all, the moment too intense, and all too intimate to even think of exchanging witty banter. Hushed moans and whines filling the minimal space between the you and her, mixed in with the pure pleasure and the eager pants from Nayeon.

Bliss drapes your body with each thrust Nayeon made, you gave a small gasp at each stroke she laid into you. Paired with her own sounds of pleasure, you were consumed by her.

“I’m gonna cum…fuck” whispered to her with intense eye contact that has her breath hitching. Her thrusts speed up, a steady crescendo building up higher and higher in both of you until finally hit the point of pure ecstasy.

Your vision blurs as your body trembles, moans escaping your throat in rapid succession. Drenched in ecstasy, you twitch and buck your hips, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm.

Nayeon glistens with a thin sheen of sweat as she maintains her rhythm. Despite your body clenching around the strap, making it challenging for her to continue, she perseveres undeterred, chasing her own pleasure while overstimulating you.

A stream of passionate words accompanies the matching sounds as you both murmur intensely to each other. Nayeon grasps your hands, pinning them above your head, her hips snapping faster and faster.

Watching her closely through your post orgasm haze, you observe her brows furrowing—a sign she's nearing her peak.

As her rhythm falters, you seize the moment. Using your legs, you swiftly roll her over, positioning yourself on top of her.

Grinding down on the strap, now building another orgasm as it rubs against all the right spots, you can feel her body tensing under you.

“Cum for me, baby. I know how much you wanting this all day.” Sultry tone sensually whispered to her as you begin to slam yourself down on her, letting the attachment do the work.

Her eyes roll back, body tensed, back arched as she releases- a mess created on the sheets. Her whimpers loud, hands grasping at you, trying to tug you closer to her and successfully doing so.

Her nails dig into your hips as she guides you up and down on her, mouths connecting, your hand crawling up to weave into her hair.

“Oh fuck…feels so fucking good” breathed against her lips, her hands snake under your thighs, stopping you from riding her.

Thrusting up into you, holding you up while you drape your body over hers, allowing yourself to untether and get lost in the moment.

“Give me one more, honey. I know you want to.” Followed by a few bites to your neck.

The want in her words were enough to send you over the edge once more. She wraps her arms around you, holding you into place while continuing to trust up into you, creating a plethora of sounds that would put any adult film to shame.

Slowly coming down, you bury your face in her neck and smile into her.

“Ugh that was so worth the wait.” huffed into her skin as she draws little pictures with her nails on your back, writing words like “I love you” and your name and her name with hearts.

“Are you writing poetry on my back?” quizzically asked with a hint of sleepiness as you sit up on her.

“I don’t need to write poetry on what already is poetry, my love.” sitting up to deeply kiss you and hug you, all while the strap is still inside you.

Standing up to go and grab another set of sheets, Nayeon takes a moment to clean the strap in the bathroom, dry it off, and put it back in the drawer.

Returning to the bed, you pull the sheets off, walking through your house to place them in the washer and flick it on before you return to the room.

Nayeon and you make the bed together, changing the pillow cases so they match the new sheets you just placed on them.

“Do you want to take a quick shower with me?” after finally placing the comforter on the bed.

Nayeon walks over to you, putting her arms around your waist and kissing you again.

“Absolutely” leading you to the bathroom so you can wash up together.

Turning to her after she turns the shower on, you smirk at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she scoffs, pulling out some towels from the linen closet for you both to use.

“I just love you…also, I think the bed IS crooked…at least it is now…” giggling at her.

Nayeon just glares at you, you can almost see her eye twitch with rage when she finally exclaims:

“SEE, I TOLD YOU IT WAS CROOKED!”

[luvelve]

boyfriend!wonwoo who wakes up at the slightest sound or movement and he can’t help it or do anything about it even if he so badly wants to. the first few weeks of living together was difficult to say the least. you’d wake up in the middle of the night to pee or to have a glass of water and you’d find wonwoo sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to come back. guilt would wash over you knowing he has to get up early in the morning and every other morning.

you feel like the worst person in the world having to interrupt his slumber, but he tells you its okay. you once even offered to sleep in separate rooms so wonwoo can have 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. but of course, he turned the offer down. sometimes he’d act like he wasn’t woken up from your movement because he knows you still feel guilty.

you’re many months into sharing a bedroom and you’ve kinda gotten used to your light sleeper of a roommate. it’d help when wonwoo came home absolutely exhausted, he’d sleep like a baby and couldn’t be disturbed by anything.

it’s way past 3am on a gloomy tuesday morning when you feel your blanket shift and cold wind hit your lower body. you look over your shoulder to wonwoo’s side and you see him getting up and putting his glasses on. he’s quietly heading towards the door when you let out a mumble.

“i’m sorry my love, i didn’t mean to wake you.” he finds your face under the moonlight that shines through the window.

“where are you going?” you use whatever strength you have to sit yourself up on the bed.

“i was just going to get some uh… water.”

liar. the glass of water you put on his bedside table before lying down has barely been touched. and the fact that he put his glasses on isn’t helping his lie either. it takes you a few seconds but you also notice that his hair hasn’t been messed up from sleep.

“have you been up all night?” you shoot him a head tilt, slowly getting up from your bed to make your way towards him. you can tell the mental gymnastics he’s doing in his head to try and convince you to get back to bed. at this point, wonwoo knows you’ve got him and there’s no point in lying anymore.

“yes… but its okay, really. y-you can go back to bed.” he tells you softly, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. even at this hour, when wonwoo hasn’t had a second of sleep, he’s still able to be this selfless.

you stand just a few inches away from him, head tilted up to look him in his tired and droopy eyes while he looks down at you, doing the same thing. it’s silent and the only thing that can be heard is the faint sounds of the city. you take a small step to close the gap between the two of you as you wrap your arms around his waist. your head is resting on his chest and you feel it rise and fall.

“we’ve talked about this before. you always stay up with me, even when i never ask you to. waiting for me to get back from the kitchen or the bathroom. and it’s unfair to you… but i hope you know that i’d do the same for you.” you close your eyes, head still resting on his chest, internally blaming yourself for not being as light a sleeper as your boyfriend.

he smiles and returns your hug, wrapping his arms around your body and resting his chin on the top of your head. “i know, my love. i’m sorry.” another trait of your wonwoo’s, being sorry for something that’s not even his fault.

“just wake my sleepy ass up next time, okay?” he lets out a laugh and you feel it rumble in his chest. you lift your head up to look at him once again as he nods. his smile is big enough that the corners of his eyes crease.

“jeon wonwoo, i wanna hear you say it.” your voice is soft yet a bit playful. you tug at his white shirt as your lips unconsciously form into a slight pout.

“yes, maam.”

a/n: as usual, this is very self indulgent. but also, i feel like this is something that wonwoo would actually do :(( aaand i still can’t seem to finish this wonwoo fic that’s been in my drafts for over 3 weeks so pls enjoy this for now <3

[minhyungsluvr]

MARK + 00' LINE | FIGHTS WITH THEM

a/n: would you believe this has been in the drafts for a year now!!! The dialogue kicked my ass, but alas I prevailed

MARK: NOT TAKING CARE OF HIMSELF

He had texted you, saying it was another late practice. For the past week he had left earlier in the morning, and came back late at night barely able to keep his eyes open long enough to slip into bed beside you. You had brought it up before, or tried to, and he brushed you off. Saying it was apart of his job, he doesn't need a break, he feels fine. You not even sure if he's eating properly. The final straw was when he came home late again, this time you were away waiting on him. Like clock work, he comes through the door sluggishly. Movements slow, eyes heavy from lack of sleep. It almost pained you to bring it up now when the last thing he probably wanted was to hear you fuss over him again. But if you didn't bring it up now, then would you be able to again. "Mark, this really isn't healthy. You're not sleeping, I'm not sure your even eating meals. I'm sure you can afford a couple of days to relax." You spoke softly, hoping that keeping your voice soft would slim the chances of a fight starting. That didn't work. "Baby..." he started with a sigh. " I really don't want get into this tonight, I'm tired" he said as he walked past you to get to the bedroom. You followed him, still trying to make your point. "I'm not trying to nag or anything, but I just want you to start taking better care of yourself". He's still not listening to you, he to busy chaning into his pajamas. "Are you listening to me", you ask, now feeling frustrated. "I am, and I mean it when I say I'm fine. So can you please drop it so we cam go sleep." He turns to you as he speaks, waiting for you to say something else before moving. You nod once, "okay, fine." You slip under the covers, back towards him, you don't say goodnight and neither does he.

RENJUN: NOT WANTING TO MEET YOUR FRIENDS

Renjun was your first serious relationship, and you had hoped he'd be your last. He was everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. He was caring, you had similar interests, and be made time for you despite his busy schedule. You've met a lot of the members of his group, you loved their dynamic. The way they were like family, how they were able to joke with each other like brothers. Your relationship was moving beautifully, until you invited him to brunch with some of your friends. When you asked, he Immediately froze up. Stumbling over his words to give you a quick, barely thought out excuse of why he would be busy during that time. You asked him again a week later, this time it was bowling. And again, he suddenly had to go do something with his members that he just thought about. It had been a month of bad excuses and dodging ever attempt at trying to meet your friends. They were starting to think you were making it up. It came to the point where you had to confront his about it. On a day where he was most definitely not bust you asked him again, "do you want to come with me a few friends for lunch"? You could feel him tense from his position on you as you both were stretched across the couch. "Ummm....." he started, beginning to sit up. "Why don't you want to meet my friends? I've met yours, and it was a lot of them." You spoke, exasperated. He starts looked around, like he's trying to find another excuse. "Stop" You saying, now also sitting up, "be honest with me Renjun. Why do you keep lying?" He hears your voice wobble, see your eyes get glossy. "I just don't understand, I've told how important my friends are to me and you won't even try to meet them." He's quick to console you as a tesr finally makes its way down your cheek. "It's not that I don't want to, I'm just nervous. I know how much they mean to you, and-" You cut him off, " I really like Renjun, and for us to get build our relationship your going to have to meet the important people in my life like I've met yours." You had taken his hand in yours, giving reassuring squeezes every now and then as he let your words sink in.

HEACHAN: DOESN'T TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY

This problem has been festering for a minute, and it’s probably your fault the situation is as big as it is. You should’ve brought it up when it was only a small issue, not when you came home from work later than usual with an attitude because your boss is a jerk. All you wanted was to come home to a clean and quiet home, instead you walk through the door to hear your boyfriend yelling through from the bedroom. All the dirty dishes were piled up in the sink, including the ones from the morning that you asked him to clean before you got home. When you walked in the room to ask him about the mess that was your kitchen, you didn’t want it to turn into a fight. It started with you asking him why he didn’t wash the dishes like you asked, especially since he was home all day. Then it ended with you accusing him of never taking you seriously. “What do you mean I don’t take you seriously?” he asked, no longer shouting. “I mean exactly what I said, you don’t take me seriously. When I tell you something you only joke about it.” The frustration was on your face and his as you started listing instances where he turned what you were feeling or what you said into a joke. Hot tears welled up in your eyes as you kept talking, anger building up from the long day you had and the argument you were having with Haechan. Seeing your face, how tired you looked, he calmed down. “Gorgeous, why have you never brought this up earlier?” You shrugged,feeling all the fight leave at his quiet tone. "Look, I promise to start listening better if start telling me how your feeling before it blows up." He stands in front of you, head tilting down to meet your teary eyes. He's only given a single nod, but the small, barely there smile on your face tells him everything will be alright.

JENO: FORGETTING IMPORTANT DATES

It's embarrassing, humiliating! You sit alone, at a table for two, in a restaurant with fancy lights, all by yourself. Looks of pity are being thrown from across the restaurant as you check the time of your phone for the fourt time that minute. Nope, still no text from Jeno. No text saying he's late, no text telling you why he hadn't shown up yet, not even a text to cancel. You could feel your face heat up as other couples walked past to get to their tables. Finally you gave up, you've waited thirty minutes too long. Walking out the restaurant, you call him, eager to see what held him up. "Hello" he answers on the first ring, "y/n..... are you there"? You had froze, he didn't show up to dinner because he was sleep! Not because he was in some life threatening situation. After the last time he had missed a date, he promised that he wouldn't miss another. Or at the very least let you know ahead of time why he couldn't come. You held the phone for another second before answering. "Did you forget about out plans" you ask. You hear him cuss quietly on the phone, before there is a rustling sound. Probably him fighting with his sheets to get out the bed. "I'm so sorry", he starts, "tell me where you are and I'll meet you there, ok sweetheart." He throws the pet name on at the end, knowing what it does to you. But it doesn't have the same effect this time. "Don't worry about it Jeno, I'm going home." You hung up before he was able to answer. He wasted no time calling you back while getting dressed, each called went ignored and only fueled him to move faster to meet you. By the time he showed up at your door, all his calls and texts still went unanswered. He could only hope you'd answer the door so he could try and make it right.

JAEMIN: NOT MAKING TIME FOR YOU

Of course you knew how busy he was before you even started dating. But if he was able to make time for you when you were just friends, you assumed that wouldn't change when he became your boyfriend. You'd spend weekends together watching romcoms, going out to eat, and now your lucky if you see him at least once a month. At first you blamed it on comeback season. Then of course there was the tour. But now he was back, and the most he done is respond to your texts telling you he's made it back home, or to laugh at a meme you've sent. You'd ask if he was free one day to come over, to hang out, he says he can't because he's playing games with Jeno. A new movie with your favorite actress just came out, and he can't see it with you because he's already getting lunch with the members. This goes on for a while, you trying to set dates up and him declining because he already has plans. You and your relationship have been pushed aside for a while, and you were sick of it. You called him on night, to ask him when he'd be free next. "I'm not really sure, I was going to spend some time just relaxing." Normally, he would've invited you over, but your not sure whats going on with him now. "Jaemin, are you tired of me?" He makes a noise of surprise over the phone, "What makes you say that, you know I'm crazy about you". You sigh, "It's like you don't want to be around me anymore. You're always busy, but not to busy for everyone else." It's a hot minute before he answers, "I didn't realize I was making you feel like that, I didn't even realize I was pulling away from you". "I understand that your busy, but I don't know...." you trail off. "No, I get it, I do. And I'm sorry", he says, "I just need to find balance is all. But don't think you're not important to me". His reassuring words bring a smile back to your face, "so are you going to be free soon" you ask hoping his answer would be different from earlier.

[gavisfanta]

Hey could you maybe do a fermin Lopez smut where he comes home in a bad mood cuz they lost a game against Madrid and they have a argument, then reader calls him,, hijo de puta" Which means son of a bitch and it ends with rough and dominant smut?

Thanks, and you don't have to write it if ur uncomfortable ❤🫶

CLÁSICO - FERMIN

summary: fermin losses a game and he doesn't like your reaction to it.

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks. Its so short and not very detailed and im sorry about that

:(

warnings: smut

"Fuck" You muttered under your breath as the final whistle of the game was blown. Barcelona had just lost 2-1 against real madrid.

You knew how important that game was to Fermin, he had talked about it months before how easy they're gonna beat them.

You sighed and gained Mikkys attention with that. "Are you okay?" She asked while she put a hand on your shoulder.

"Fermin is gonna be in a great mood now." You exhaled deeply and she then shook her head.

"He won't be that bad, don't worry." mikky smiled and Frenkie stood up.

They dropped you off at Fermins house, thats where the two of you usually hang out.

After sitting on your phone for what felt like an eternity you heard the door swin open.

"Hey" You smiled widely as you watched him throw his things to the ground. "You played amazin-" You tried to say but Fermin cut you off.

"Not now, leave me alone." Fermin said coldly while looking straight into your eyes and then walked past you to the couch.

You were a bit taken aback by his words, you knew that he would be in a bad mood, but not THIS bad.

"I get that you're angry, but you don't have to take it out on me?" You snapped back at him, you were fully right. Just because they lost, shouldn't give Fermin the right to be mad at you.

And Fermin knew that too.

"Y/n, just please leave me alone. Not now, really not now." Fermin turned to face you to say this, after he explained to you he turned around again.

"Hijo de puta." You whispered under your breath as you turned around, wanting to walk the other way.

Then you heard heavy footsteps coming closer to you at a rapid speed.

"Who the fuck are you calling a son of a bitch?" Strong hands gripped your wrists and pinned you the the wall. Your breath hitched at the sudden motion and you saw Fermin staring at you.

He wasn't aggressive, he was calm, but you knew that he was in a bad mood and he was not to mess with.

"Go upstairs." Fermin pointed to the stairs and slowly let go of your wrists. As you walked away he spanked your ass hardly, you were sure it left a mark.

As you went upstairs you sat down on the bed, not knowing what to do, until the door swung open again.

"Why are you clothed?" Fermin almost stormed inside and then goes over to you.

"You didn't tell me what to do." You mumbled as he leaned closer to you.

"Do I have to tell you to come on my dick for you to do it? No. Get naked." Fermin said in a harsh voice which was just in above a whisper.

As you took off your shirt Fermin watched you, the same with the pants, and you were left in underwear in front of him he started to take off his clothes too until he was left in his boxers. Fermin then nudged his head toward the king sized bed with black covers.

"Lie down" Fermin mumbled and of course you did, he crawled over you on all fours. He then leaned down to kiss you, it wasn't gentle or sweet like other times, it was possesive, dominant and aggressive.

The heat between your legs only grew as his hands started sliding under you and groping your ass. He then took off your pants and your panties too, you whined as soon as the cold air hit your arousal.

You moaned silently into his mouth, Fermin pulled away.

"If you make a fucking noise again you wont come the whole night." Fermin told you, he was just a few millimeters away from your face.

Then you instantly nodded your head, not daring to say another word.

The kiss got more heated and Fermin opened your bra, sliding it down your arms he didn't break the kiss once. The only thing he did is release his right hand from your ass and squeeze your tit instead.

Moaning almost felt like a need now as he ran his hands down to your throbbing clit.

"Your cunt is so wet." Fermin groaned while he took off his pants and his shirt.

Then his hands traveled up to yohr mouth as he stuck two fingers inside your mouth for you to wet his fingers. As he was satisfied with you licking and sucking around his fingers he pulled them out of your mouth, a string of salvia connecting his fingers with your mouth still.

You whimpered as he slid his fingers into your pussy. You felt him his fingers run around your walls and eventually he pulled out and brought his hand to pump his hand up and down his dick a couple of times before he teased your entrance.

"Don't make a sound." Fermin gave you a look and you nodded, swallowing while he thrusted inside of you immediately, without any warning or giving you any time to adjust.

"Fermin" You moaned out and he pulled out of you for a second before thursting back even harder. He made you scream and you were sure that your neighbours are gonna file a complaint but it felt so damn good.

You felt a heat building up in your stomach when Fermin pushed down on your lower abdomen and made it feel even tighter inside of you.

He threw his head back while his thrusts became sloppy and then also started rubbing your clit.

It didn't take long for him to come but just as you felt your climax approach he pulled out of you and looked at his load spilling out of your pussy.

You gave him a questioning look as to why he didn't finish you off but he smiled.

"Bad girls don't get to come." He kissed your cheek and lied down next to you, hugging you tight. "Goodnight amor."

That dickhead.

[90sbee]

Sometimes a saviour is a soldier afraid of peace

Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

4.4k words. Also on ao3.

He looks at her in quiet admiration.

He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.

Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.

He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.

The war is over, but the demons still haunt Levi. Luckily for him, the last member of his Squad seems focused on remaining by his side as they both face this new enemy: peace.

This was !!! My first fic written in English, actually. Also my first (and only time so far) writing for aot. Levi is such an angsty angel, and this story wouldn’t leave my head, so I had to end up writing it, ofc. This has been in the drafts for... months. Too many months already. And tbh I'm not a fan of how it came out. But. Posting it in case someone else can enjoy Levi finally getting some love and comfort, sjsjs.

Content: Use of 3rd person pronouns. No use of y/n. Mostly Levi's pov. Reader was part of his Squad. Post!Rumbling Levi. Written with the manga ending in mind. A lot of fluff, rude Levi even if he doesn't mean it (but reader knows he means no harm). Healing. Spooning (Levi as the little spoon btw. He deserves it).

Warnings: depressive thoughts, self confidence issues. Mentions of past violence (but nothing gruesome, it's all in passing). SFW. No beta reader we die like everybody in Aot here.

They always meet. Every single day, she leaves her little flat to find him near the fountain in the Marleyan park, eager to push his wheelchair and pass some time with him.

Levi doesn’t understand. When Onyankopon, or Falco, or Gabi let her take the wheelchair, he just ponders. He could understand why they would accompany him: because he is old? because they feel pity of him?… But her?

Nonetheless, every single afternoon, she comes to him. He doesn’t recall when this custom began. It’s like slowly, but surely, she started digging a place into his routine. She was part of his remaining squad, and he really didn’t see any point to her bubbling-self still being by his side.

Still, he appreciates her visits. She exchanges pleasantries with Gabi, already smiling. Why is she smiling?

“Hi, Captain,” she says. Should he feel mocked? He isn’t a captain anymore and the title feels too much, even if it’s comforting in some way. Levi doesn’t reply. He just nods, silently acknowledging her presence. “Is it okay if we go to the stalls for a while, Captain?” She inquires, as if it was the first time they did it, and not a weekly occurrence. His jaw tenses. He doesn’t understand, still. She surely pities him. She has to.

He agrees to her proposal, though.

“Sure,” he replies, barely any emotion on his face.

She smiles at him. For a moment, they look at each other. She sees that familiar scarred face, a grey eye gazing into her soul. He sees the older face of her remaining squad member, some wrinkles next to her eyes, her figure dressed in green. For some reason, he liked that colour on her.

He doesn’t share that with her, though.

“Let’s get going,” she adds, a little chuckle in her voice — he can hear it — as she starts pushing the wheelchair. They check out the little shops that are already so familiar. Sometimes she signals a piece of jewellery or clothes. She asks for his opinion, or points at a silly artwork, in hopes of making him laugh.

When the cold starts to set in, she stops them in front of a coffee shop.

“Wait here a second, Captain,” she tells him.

“Where would I go, anyway?” He wants to say, snarky, but he doesn’t really bother in opening his mouth. He stays silent still, perking his head up to see what’s she’s doing.

“Oi. coffee?” He complains.

She directs her gaze to him and chuckles, paying the vendor.

“I know you like tea but it’s time to broaden your horizons,” she explains. She comes up to him again, and hands him one of the cups. He sighs, but accepts the drink still.

“What is it this time?”

“Just chocolate. Hot chocolate,” she answers, already sipping hers.  She lets out a content sigh when the warmth of it starts to fill her belly.

“I don’t like chocolate,” Levi mutters under his breath. He is lying and she knows it.

“Tsk. That’s not true. Everybody likes chocolate.”

“… Fine,” he sips his drink and, admittedly, enjoys it. She hands him her drink so she can push the wheelchair again, and he takes it, guarding both cups on his lap, a familiar action for the two of them now.

“Where do we go?” She asks.

Levi shrugs. “As if I had a choice.”

She looks at him still, and when he can see her, barely from his peripheral vision, he sees a softer face. She’s waiting for his reply. He looks at her, looks at her lips. She isn’t smiling anymore. Levi sighs, suddenly feeling guilty.

He doesn’t understand still why she does this for him.

“Captain?” She says, just above a whisper, since there are people around them and they both just want to have a calm evening, without the risk of being recognised.

Levi nods before he even opens his mouth.

“The bridge.”

“Good,” she agrees as he sips from his drink again, guided by her. He does feel warmer. Levi inspects the people around him in silence, letting himself be carried, taken to a nicer place. “Hange would have like this,” he thinks. He looks down to suddenly realise he is clenching his fist, hard. “If you could even call it a hand…”

“We’re here, Captain,” she announces, letting his wheelchair rest next to a bench, overlooking the water. She takes a seat next to him, and Levi hands her the drink. He wonders if she noticed how tense he’s been feeling today.

“Be quick with that, brat, or it will get cold,” he warns, as if to pre-emptively shut down any words from her. He’s not sure he could handle it.

She just nods.

“It’s still warm,” she mentions after a moment.

The sunset is taking its place on the sky, a beautiful palette of oranges and pinks against a very flat horizon. A reminder of what was once lost.

“Good,” he says.

Levi looks at her. She is still looking forward, features illuminated by the falling sun, breeze caressing her face. There is something in his heart that aches, but he doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t dare to. Levi is old, too old, and too broken. And she only pities him.

He coughs to catch her attention, though.

“Hmh, yeah?” She immediately says.

“I heard the Scouts were going back to Paradis tomorrow,” he begins, the question lingering in the air. The small group was leaving first time in the morning.

“Yep.”

Levi blinks, expecting her to say more, but she doesn’t. He doesn’t want to ask. It feels… too much. He feels too exposed doing that, lower lip trembling.

“Are you going?” He finally dares to ask.

She turns back to him again, and looks at him with the sweetest gaze. Levi doesn’t miss how she looks at his lips first.

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have anything there,” she replies, matter-of-factly. Levi wants to hit his head against something, still uncertain about what that means. Does that mean that she has something here? Someone?

She must notice his doubts, so she lowers her gaze. “I mean. You know I lost my family during my first years as a Scout. And knowing that we tried to stop Eren… All the military forces in the island won’t be very happy to see me. Or any of us. I’ve done my part. I do not want more fighting.”

“… Right”. That still doesn’t answer his question, but it is enough to satisfy his curiosity without seeming to eager. He sips his drink again: it’s getting colder.

“You didn’t want to go, Captain?” There it was again, that fucking title that felt like a joke. He chuckles, not looking at her anymore but rather at the sunset.

“Why do you still call me like that?” He spits back.

“Captain?”

“Yeah,” His tone is unintentionally rude, but he can’t help it, not even around her.

“Well… It’s a sign of respect, don’t you think?”

Levi chuckles, amused.

“I never took you for a polite person.” He doesn’t want to look at her still. She hasn’t added anything, said anything else. What is she thinking of?

She looks at him. There’s a warmth in her belly which has nothing to do with the chocolate anymore. She knows: Her Captain has been way more vulnerable and open since the Rumbling. The little gestures that he could so easily hide before are now an open book. Or at least she feels that way, since she was always one to look at him.

It was so easy to just… stare at him. Admire him in every sense of the word, even now. When they were both soldiers they would fight alongside each other, against innumerable dangers. He was barely visible in the spectrum: always so fast, always so precise. A ray of dark hair and strong limbs, destroying everything to provide peace, to provide protection.

There was no point in denying how she felt about him… Except, maybe, to him.

“I don’t think I would like going back to Paradis,” she finally adds, finishing her drink. He seems to reflect on that idea for a moment, before nodding. He wants to ask why but he doesn’t dare to. “I’m just… comfortable here,” she finishes with a sigh. “This is okay.”

“That’s good,” he says, barely a spark of enthusiasm in his voice, but enough for her to notice.

She looks up at him again. And he feels tiny and scared suddenly, because she looks at him with wonder and care. Levi doesn’t mean to, but he ends up letting his drink fall from his hands, whether due to his nervousness or the state of his hand after the war.

“Shit,” he spits, upset.

“Sh, it’s alright, Captain.” In a second she is picking up the cup, handing him a handkerchief to dry his hands. She walks a few steps to throw both cups into a trashcan and is again, by his side. Such a quick interaction so as to ease his shame, he could notice it. “Are you alright?”

Levi still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why she still treats him with such respect, why she seems to care so much for him. But he wants to find out, somehow. He barely nods, but she notices it.

“Good,” she says, while taking the handkerchief back. She is about to put it into her bag again when she feels a hand grabbing hers.

Levi.

He doesn’t even say anything. He doesn’t know how. She seems to understand, though, squeezing his hand, softly. Levi quickly lets her hand go, his cheeks going red. She gets behind the wheelchair again, as the sun is about to disappear, and Levi can hear her chuckling.

“Let’s get you home, Captain.”

He stays quiet, unsure if he could even say something useful.

There’s so much he doesn’t know how to say. How to do.

While she is pushing his chair he notices it again. A slight tremor in her right hand. “My wrist seems to ache lately… Must be from holding the blades for so many years,” she had explained in passing a couple weeks ago. He realises that it’s probably taking a strain on her to push him every fucking day.

“Oi,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Stop pushing me. I can handle it,” he explains, tone serious.

“Oh, no,” her hand is trembling still. “It’s fine, it’s no bother for me, Captain.”

“… It’s an order,” he commands after a moment. She stops in her tracks and he can hear a gentle laugh coming from behind him.

“It had been a while since that, huh.” Confidently, she places one of her hands on his shoulder, gently tapping it. Levi smiles. Barely curving his lips, but he does. He is about to be brave, hold her hand on his shoulder when she removes it from him. “Shit,” he thinks. “Too slow… Too slow? Slow for what? Tsk.”

Despite his missing fingers, he can still push his wheelchair quite properly. It also helps that he can see his street far ahead. She walks comfortably besides him, a silence and gentle ghost as his most devoted companion.

Yeah. There’s definitely something aching in his chest. He had been noticing the past days, feeling getting more painful as they both approach his place. And it has nothing to do with his faulty joints or damaged body or excessive age.

When they reach his door, she asks for his key. Levi gives it to her, his hand lingering for a second too long, reflecting on the brief touch of hands as she grabs it to unlock the door.

He is tired.

And he feels incredibly silly when he realises he doesn’t want her to leave.

“There we go, Captain. I help you in?” she suggests with a bright smile, opening the door.

“… Yes.”

She steps inside and pushes the chair into his living room, almost getting it next to his couch.

“That’s enough” he decides, in a semblance of independency he still wants to maintain.

She nods. “Okay… I guess… I’ll get going, Captain.”

Levi lifts up his gaze. He wants to ask… He wants to know… He savours her image for a moment, her tired expression and the way her dress now looks clumsy and wrinkled but he doesn’t care. Before, before everything had ended up like this he would remind every single cadet to iron their uniforms, all the outfits presentable, so as to look like respectable soldiers and honourable bodies if the occasion arose. Now she can have the privilege of looking messy. Of not worrying about death so often.

“No,” he mutters.

“Huh?” she inquires, taking a step forward.

“Shit,” Levi thinks. “I… I want tea,” he makes up a quick lie.

“Oh, sure. Yes, Captain.” She leaves her bag on the couch and goes into the kitchen, getting a kettle full of water.

He looks at her in quiet admiration.

He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.

Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.

He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.

He stands up. His body still holds that ability, though his legs get tired rather quickly. He can still walk, so he does until he reaches the kitchen. She is still deciding on the teas when she sees him.

“Oh, no, Captain, please, just don’t…”

He interrupts her, grabs her waist carelessly and pushes her towards the couch, barely moving her.

“Let me handle it myself.”

“Levi…” She whispers, their faces inches apart.

“Go. Sit,” he mumbles, biting his lips and sending his eyes lower, so as to avoid her face.

“Are you sure?” She inquires a moment after, still close to him. He notices she has a hand on his waist as well, a protective aid making sure he stays on two feet.

“Yes,” he says, more commanding this time. He grabs that hand of hers and pushes her away gently now.

She nods, understandingly.

“I’ll be in the living room,” she adds.

Levi nods at her, making sure she finally gets that ass of hers in the couch. He is now faced with his kitchen. Most of the cups and teas, everything has been moved lower, so as to accommodate to his wheelchair. Slowly, he kneels, searching for a specific flavour for her. When he finally finds the peppermint and rose one, he mentally cheers. He stands up again, slowly, as if to show confidence, making sure from his peripheral view that she isn’t coming to his aid.

She isn’t. He catches her averting her eyes, though. A confirmation that she has been staring.

He decides to stare as well. Supporting himself on his weakened legs, he waits for the kettle to boil, while looking at her. It’s as if she could notice that, because her head doesn’t move, still fixated on an indescriptible point in his living room.

“Oi, what you looking at?” He says, a bit more light-hearted.

A smile forms on her lips before she even turns her head towards him. She doesn’t answer. Just keeps smiling at him.

“Fuck,” he thinks when he realises he has also slightly curved his lips.

Quickly he turns towards the stove, the kettle already boiling. Levi carefully fills the cups with water, letting the leaves rest. He lifts his gaze up to her for a second but it is already enough for her to notice.

“Need help with the cups?” Her, always so worried, so in tune with his needs. No need for words.

“Of fucking course.”

Still, the only answer he gives her is a polite nod. She stands up, approaching him.

“I’ll handle it, Captain. Just take a seat.”

He lets out a sigh, taking himself to the couch and plopping himself there.

“It’s hard,” Levi thinks as he sees her come back to the living room, two cups in her hands. He accepts the drink, his gaze not leaving her features. “I… I can’t.”

He knows he can’t accept kindness: he doesn’t know how to. Still, he tenses his jaw and forces himself to sip the tea as she takes a seat next to him.

“Peppermint, huh?” She hums mostly to herself.

 “… Yeah,” comes out of his mouth, unsure, less braver than expected. Is he insecure? Has he made a mistake?

“Good choice” She declares and he breathes again, realising that he had been holding his breath. “Bet you already knew that, right?” She adds, cocking her head.

Levi looks at her again. He has been avoiding her eyes but he hadn’t been trained as a soldier to back down in times of peace.

“I did,” he says, his tone firm, a very weak attempt at showing confidence still. “It’s the one you would always ask for when we would have meetings with the Scouts.”

“It’s good tea.” Her tone seems softer now.

Levi hums, too deep inside his mind to notice it.

She wonders. Wonders if he has ever realized that the only reason she would wander through the headquarters late at night was just to be found and reprimanded by him, the way she would be easily entertained by Levi’s stern face. Wondered if Hange had ever told him about the time she had fallen asleep in their office and woke up, mumbling his name, much to Hange’s delight, though they had promised to keep it a secret.

He looks down at his legs, at his carpeted floor.

He wonders if she had ever noticed the way he would mindlessly lick his lips after looking at her, the boring uniform suddenly a beautiful outfit, making her stand out. Wonders if it was too late to tell her that, yes, after Hange and her had found him, and stitched him up, that he had heard every single word she had uttered near his heart, softly pressing her timid hands on his chest. There hadn’t been time then to discuss anything or even think if it had meant anything else than old scouts being protective of each other, but now…

They finish their teas in silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the opposite, despite the fact that Levi has started nervously tapping his feet against the floor. It is dark outside already, the light from the lamps flowing into Levi’s house, a dog barking a few blocks away.

She stands up, makes sure to wash her cup in the sink and put it away before returning to him.

“Captain?” She mutters. No need for more words.

Levi hands her the cup with slow movements, as if trying to prolong that insignificant action for as long as possible. And when she is already about to head into the kitchen, little plate and teacup in her hand, he decides to be brave. No more lying to himself, no more being a coward. Too many people have died, have bleed, have sacrificed the little they had for a selected group of survivors to be able to live. To enjoy the remaining Earth. For the little ones that survived to be able to find some meaning. Something worth all the pain.

Basking in the fear serves no one. In fact, makes all the death meaningless.

So, Levi looks up at her and grabs her hand, even if he is scared still. Trembling fingers dancing on hers until they secure her hand softly in his. He feels warm even if he doesn’t know what to say, how to convey what he feels. Such a shadow of the man he was. So stupid now.

Levi just wants her to say.

She gasps at the contact but quickly composes herself. A shy smile showing up on her face. They stay like that for a moment, neither daring to break the silence.

“Levi?” She asks after a moment, moving closer to his face, as if asking for permission.

He can only look at her lips in reply.

She shortens the distance between them and kisses him on his lips. It isn’t a big kiss, too flashy or provocative: just a tender contact between two broken people. As soon as he has processed what was going on, she has already moved forward, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

And then, even higher, another kiss on his forehead, her lips remaining close to his face. Levi can’t say anything. Barely reacting. But when she looks at his eyes, she is greeted by the sweet glimmer of tears in them.

Levi. Happy, at last.

And as if reading his mind, she utters: “Do you want me to stay, Levi?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

She complies. In the quiet, late hours of the night, Levi wakes up, his body feeling too rested already. It was a habit hard to break, he wouldn’t sleep much anyway. He sighs still, feeling her body pressing against his, holding him from behind. She has one hand on his shoulder, the other keeping him safe and secured, hugging his waist close. He dares to smile and grab that hand across his belly with both of his hands, so as to make sure that it is real: he is being held. There is someone else with him. Levi isn’t alone. Someone is taking care of him. Someone he’s been devoted to for so many years.

He wants to nuzzle up closer, hide in her chest or neck and feel more.

But he doesn’t dare to. He can’t allow himself to do that yet. 

So he stays awake in silence, hearing the soothing and steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Levi still doesn’t understand, though.

He doesn’t want to think of why she has chosen him, how he got this privilege so late in his life, when all hope seems to be lost and the thought of a partner didn’t cross his mind at all. He also doesn’t know what to do with this gift, this blessing. Why? How? He is such a crippled shadow of what he used to be. Slow, so consumed by roughness and violence and so useless now.

He has always had something to fight for: his life, his friends, his Squad, Erwin, Hange. Yet since the Rumbling he has just… fallen behind. He is just existing and it seems like his body has finally caught up to his age: no longer agile and strong, but a weakened man, finally leaving the survival mode that has characterised every single aspect of his life. He doesn’t have any goals or dreams now. Everything had been slowly trampled down like the titans destroying all land and all life.

He shivers, remembering that day and holds her hand tighter.

Once he had completed the promise made to Erwin, his last order, he had nothing more. No more commands. No more slaying titans.

Just existing.

He doesn’t want that. He has been a fighter, a rebel, a monster his whole life. He only knew of endurance and compliance with the spirit of life, of resistance. He doesn’t know of anything else: the calmness, the quietness, the routine walks and just reading books and sitting on his porch… That is not him. That isn’t life. Being able to choose things for himself, devour life gently and enjoy it instead of painfully trying to keep it close, to grip it between calloused fingers… Peace isn’t familiar.

He has nothing to devote himself to, nothing to prove or fight for.

“Yeah,” he thinks. “Everything is… meaningless… Or it was.”

He closes his eyes, relinquishing himself in the warm body against his.

Some things… Some things have meaning still.

Her.

The way she would scrunch her nose when laughing or buy him drinks or attempt to make him laugh or wear that damn stupid wrinkled dress and — “Fuck. I know her so much by now…”

She had been a Scout too. She had fought and devoted her heart and did everything a Scout had to do. She had fulfilled her duty in the same way he did. She has survived and she doesn’t regret a single thing. Not even this life.

She is at peace.

He wants to sob.

He doesn’t understand peace. Sure, it was his goal, what he always dreamed of, but, damn it. Levi had never thought he would actually get to see something resembling it. Unlike her. She understood what it was: she has accepted peace with open arms and a smile that — fuck, somehow— has been shining on her face throughout the years. Despite so much pain and death…  She still allows herself to fucking live in peace. She forgave herself for the death, for the pain and crimes and let go.

He isn’t sure if he can do the same.

Peace is foreign, strange even. An oddity. And he isn’t stupid, he knows that time would run up someday and that things would turn against them for a second time.

But, still, the promise of the rest of his life in peace lingers.

He could have it.

He fucking could.

Levi reflects on those thoughts for a moment, silent still.

He thinks he can get to an agreement. Maybe, when she wakes up in the morning, he can try to spill his soul to her a little. Try to understand how she handles this life, how she can get up in the mornings after killing so much, and just have tea with him.

But for now, in the quietness of the night, as the old warrior he was, he does the only thing he knows: he promises to dedicate his heart once more.

He finally has a reason, a purpose, something worth protecting again.

Levi lifts his hand, crossing it on his chest the way all Scouts would do. But he doesn’t press it on his heart, but rather, moves it to hold her hand, the one resting on his shoulder. He squeezes it gently, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed by her. By the silent love she had been proclaiming to him all these years and that he couldn’t reciprocate before.

Yes. Now it is the time.

Levi would dedicate his heart once more.

To her and only her.

That may have been the cheesiest ending ever written but !!!! He deserves it, I know. Also someone stop me before I write for Hange, the feelings got to me indeed. Dividers by @/cafekitsune @/saradika and @/vase-of-lilies

[madi-writes-things]

Making The Bed (Johnie Guilbert X Reader)

Summary:

Pushing away all the people that know me the best…

Word Count: 1,415

TW: Passing Out, ED, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Self Deprecation, Self Destructive Thoughts and Actions, Avoiding Foods, Parties, Drinking, Johnnie Being a Supportive and Good Boyfriend, platonic!Jake Webber

A/N: this has been in my drafts for like three months. Sorry if it seems rushed or anything, I fell asleep halfway through writing it and finished when I woke up. 🫶

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

I stand in the bathroom, obsessively typing the calories from the meal I just ate into the calorie counter that I promised I wouldn’t redownload. I didn’t mean for it to get like this again, but here I am. It just started as a few missed snacks, which turned into meals, and it all snowballed into daily weigh-ins and days with no food. I stop by the mirror for a moment, and I regret it immediately… the second I see myself, I feel my stomach churn.

The worst part of this is the lying to the people close to me… I don’t push them away on purpose, it just makes it easier. On days where I don’t see Johnnie much, I’m able to go the whole day without eating. I know that he’ll find out eventually, but I can’t let it be now.

In an ironic way I find it funny how people on the internet find out what you struggle with, and do their best to make it worse. The only reason that I started skipping snacks, was because people started commenting on my weight gain. It’s not the people who praise me for looking healthier, the issue is the people who spew my worst fears in the comments.

I know in the back of my head, that I will lose everything I’ve worked for if I don’t stay skinny. Johnnie won’t want me, Jake won’t chose me over him, Tara won’t want someone like me as a friend, my fans will get tired of me once I’m not interesting to look at, my family wo-

I hear Johnnie lightly knock on the bathroom door, pulling me from my doom spiral. “you okay in there babe?”

Shit.

I quickly wipe my face off, leaving no trace of the tears that were spilled. “Yeah! Be out in just a second.” Sometimes I wonder if he knows, and he’s happy that I’m losing weight. No. He’s not like that.

“”“”“”“”“”

I think Jake knows…

He stared me down after making me lunch. I think he was trying to see if I actually ate it. He made pasta, and I cried in the bathroom for thirty minutes after leaving the table. I saw him staring at me anytime we were in the same room after that.

Now I’m climbing into his car with Johnnie and Tara, headed to an influencer party. I’m wearing a cute Tank + Cropped Hoodie with skeleton hand’s bedazzled on the tits, and a pair of high waisted jeans. I knew that going out was a bad idea, but I have to stay under Jake’s radar… if he says anything to Johnnie, I’m done for.

I offer to be designated driver when we pull up, there’s no way I’m drinking tonight. One shot of vodka is nearly 100 calories, and vodka is the lowest calorie alcohol I’ve found. Everyone agrees pretty easily.

“”“”“”“”“”

The party has been going on for hours, and all of my friends were pretty tipsy at this point. I decided to go sit with Tara a little bit ago, and now we’re talking about her latest hookup. “He was literally so pretty… and his dick was huge!” She nearly falls over laughing at my reaction. I tell her I’m going to grab a water from the cooler, and find the guys so we can head out.

The second I stand up, everything goes blurry for a second. Shit. I don’t think I’ve had anything to eat since Jake made me, and that was like three days ago. I reach out and steady myself on Tara’s shoulder, as she asks if I’m okay. I mutter a quick yes, as I start walking away. It’s takes a second for my eyes to focus again, but most people just seem to assume I’m drunk.

Once I find the guys, we head out. My head is pounding, and all I want is to get home and go straight to bed. Once we finally get to our room, Johnnie holds me tight in his arms as we drift to sleep.

“”“”“”“”“”

The party was two days ago, and while I know I shouldn’t, I took advantage of everyone’s hangovers. I still haven’t eaten or drank anything other than water. Every morning I wake up lighter than the day before, and I’m not risking gaining any weight at this point.

Today is different, Jake and Johnnie are wide awake. The guys have been filming all morning, and they asked me if I wanted to join them in a video… I obviously agreed. I’ve missed my boyfriend, and I doubt he’d notice anything while we’re out at target.

“”“”“”“”“”

We stopped at three different targets before finding one that would let us film, totaling about an hour and a half of driving around. We’ve been walking around this target for a while, but the lights are too bright and I can’t seem to make my brain work hard enough to figure out how long.

I’m standing in the board game isle when it happens. I see Johnnie’s face fall when he sees me. “Babe, are you okay? You look really pa…” I don’t even hear the full sentence before everything turns to static.

“”“”“”“”“”

Johnnie’s POV

It all happens so fast. One second we’re laughing at something stupid, the next second Y/N has gone completely silent. “Babe, are you okay? You look really pale.” Then it happens. I watch as her eyes roll back into her skull.

Shit.

I barely move fast enough to stop her from hitting her head on the ground. “Jake! Go get some juice and a granola bar.” He practically drops the camera before breaking into a sprint across the store.

nononono… how long have I missed this? It all starts clicking into place… the long bathroom breaks after meals, the pulling away, the way she offered to not drink. Jake returns within 30 seconds, and Y/N starts to stir in my arms.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Everything feels like static… I think my eyes are open, but I still can’t see anything. I reach up, and my hand graces something, it takes me a second to register that it’s my loving boyfriend. I mutter a quick apology, and I hear him talking to someone but it’s so muffled. I don’t know how long I lay there before I start to regain feeling in my body. I can’t tell if I’m shaking, but I feel like I’m having a seizure or something.

once I’m able to sit up on my own Johnnie hands me a juice box and a granola bar. I can see Jake sitting across the aisle, also sipping a juice box. They wait until I’m done with my snack before talking. “Baby, I need you to be honest… when is the last time you ate?”

Shitshitshitshit. “I had lunch with Jake.” I try to sound confident, but my voice is shaky. I see Johnnie look across the aisle at Jake, questioning whether I was telling the truth.

“Y/N… that was almost a week ago.” He looks at me with a nearly indecipherable expression, but I know it well. Pity. “Is that really the last time you ate?”

Seeing how worried my they are breaks me. I only allow myself to break down because we are in a fairly secluded area of the store. Johnnie pulls me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. We stay like that for a while before heading home.

“”“”“”“”“”

Three Months Later

That day was a massive wake up call. Johnnie let me take a nap when we got home, while I slept they assembled friends and family. When I woke up they held an intervention. They gave me the choice to Go to an inpatient treatment, or try to get better at home… I chose getting better at home, scared that nobody would wait for me.

That night we worked out a plan. Johnnie made me a meal plan full of foods that I felt safe eating, we threw out the bathroom scale, and we deleted the calorie counter. It wasn’t an overnight change, but I had amazing support from the people around me.

Johnnie is truly the man of my dreams. He never stops telling me how much he loves me, and reassuring me that he would never leave me. He is the reason I wake up in the morning, and I know that he will always be there.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn

@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos

[kiwi-cult]

PARSELSCRIPT!!

Hi. This is mostly for the people from Discord but tadah! I'm finally making that Tumblr post I've been talking about for months.

(Warning this will probably be very chaotic)

To anyone new who sees this: me and some friends made an alphabet for Parseltongue from Harry Potter, aka Parselscript. I'll take you on a little journey to explain my process and give you some tips, should you want to start writing it.

Disclaimer: I wanted to make this script usable for the writer I made it for so it's less of an actual language and more just some characters to represent the Latin (or ‘English’) letters. Like a cipher. It is not realistic. If I made this realistic I'd have to add all sorts of things to indicate body language and smell etc and also have to figure out what sounds Parseltongue actually has etcetera etcetera. No.

Alright.

It all started when we started talking about Parselscript in a Discord server and I asked my friend Ava to visualise the script because she seemed to have a clear vision of it, so I could use it to go from there.

That's how we got this.

I think we all wanted to go with something flowery for some reason, so we did.

After this I just messed around with brushes and shapes in Procreate for a while, tweaking things and trying to make it more writeable. I ended up with something like this (still a rough draft).

It may look a bit like random squiggles at first, and it kinda was at this point. As you can see there's also a lot of added dots and lines, which can be a bit hard to remember and I see you wondering what it looks like without them.

Well here it is.

I showed this to the people I brainstormed with in Discord and we decided to go with the more complicated version because it looks better lol.

This is one of the final versions.

It says: "Hello, my name is Kiwi Cult. I made this script after reading a fanfic called Terrible, But Great written by Isalise the loml on Archive Of Our Own."

Now, to talk about some of the (boring) logistics.

It is read from left to right, top to bottom.

Every separate combination of squiggles you see above is a separate word. Every word is made up of a starting character, one or more letter characters and an ending character.

The very first character you see in the top left corner, with the three petal looking thingies, is a silent starting character that indicates the start of a sentence. Not word: sentence. The end of the character, that little circle thingy, is a comma. So, the first combination says: "Hello,".

Then, the second combination starts with a kind of hook going down and right. This is also a silent character and more meant as an interpunction, that's why you don't pronounce it. It's kind of just a way to start the word when there isn't anything special about it (aka it's not the start of a sentence, a name, an exclamation or a question. But every character is special in its own right🥲). The same kind of hook can be found at the bottom of the combination, except going up. It has the same use, basically just a way to end the word when there isn't anything special about it. Now, you might ask: why does it go right and not left?

We talked about this a while, because I wanted the direction to have some kind of meaning. We wondered about gender, tone, blah blah all kinds of complicated things but in the end I just wanted this script to be writable so I chose to have proficient writers in Parseltongue make their hooks go left and beginners have their hooks go right.

Now, you might notice that I end my words with a hook going right. That is because I don't see myself as a pro in writing in Parselscript okay? It's hard!😭💀

Now, other than the character indicating the start of a sentence, the circle, and the simple hook, there are a few other characters to start or end a combination (don't worry I'll show them all to you at the end, you won't have to use your imagination for long).

We have a character to indicate a name. Now, the rule is: name indicator over start of sentence indicator. So, if you start a sentence with a name, you'll use the symbol to indicate a name, NOT BOTH. (That's not even possible but I don't even want to see you try and butcher my child).

There is a character to indicate a sentence that would usually be followed by an exclamation mark (!), but at the start of the sentence. Then you’d end the exclamated sentence with a period.

The same goes for a question mark (?): put it at the start of a question, not the end. Again, it wouldn't even be possible to use it at the end of a combination but I DON'T EVEN WANNA SEE YOU TRY.

Finally we have a period (.), which looks a bit like a flower with four petals. You do use this one at the end of a word, and it is always followed by a start of sentence indicator or a name indicator. I know people are rejecting capitals these days in their typing but I don't wanna see it. If you start a word after a period with a hook I will find you.

If a sentence starts with a name that is also a question or exclamation you’d use the question/exclamation mark above the name indicator, otherwise it would take away a vital part of the sentence while a name can still be read even if it doesn’t have its indicator.

So, to put it all next to each other, the symbols we have are: -start of sentence indicator -name indicator -exclamation mark (!) -question mark (?) -period (.) -hook (direction depends on efficiency) -comma (,) (direction depends on efficiency)

I didn't make adjusted characters to indicate a capital letter like we do in the Latin alphabet, meaning that the only things you can kind of 'capitalise' are the start of a sentence and the start of a name.

It is also slightly phonetic. Emphasis on slightly. I made separate characters for almost all letters in the Latin alphabet, so you can just write your word normally with Parselscript characters. The only difference is that I made only one character for the 'f/v' sounds and that there is no 'c' character. If a word has a 'c' in it, you'll have to use the character for a 'k' or an 's'. Also a ‘q’ can be made with ‘k’ and ‘w’ etc.

A few examples: -character=karakter -parselscript=parselskript -crazy=krazy -science=siense

-quiz=kwuiz

I know it looks a bit confusing, but I trust you guys' ability to read context clues and figure out what someone means when you try to decipher Parselscript.

Now, for a word like 'phonetic' or 'decipher' I don't really care whether you use the separate characters for 'p' and 'h' or just the one for the 'f/v' sound. You do you.

I also don’t use any double letters because they basically sound the same and it looks ugly but if you want to use double symbols feel free.

I also made some numbers that do not look like they fit with the rest of the script but I promise you that's just because you're not used to it yet. Our own numbers don't belong with our alphabet either because we nicked them from the Arabs (I think, don't quote me on this) but we don’t notice that either.

Tadah. (Yes I know it’s out of order I told you this was gonna be chaotic af)

Other than that, feel free to ask me questions if I've forgotten anything or if you're wondering about anything. I can't guarantee that I have a good answer because I might not even have thought about it myself, but I can always try to come up with something. I am one person, I'm afraid I haven't been able to take everything about a script into consideration.

Now, without further ado; here is the key.

No, your eyes didn't deceive you: there are two versions. The first has a bit more loose squiggles than the second one. I realised that when I was writing physically, the second version was much nicer to write, so it is kind of like Simplified Parselscript. I haven't decided yet if I'm gonna put some lore behind it or not yet. But I included the og one if you're a tryhard and wanna take it on.

Now, if you're gonna start writing it yourself, here is the stroke order.

I tried to make it as clear as possible but please ask me if you're confused on anything.

Red is the starting point of the whole symbol, the arrows indicate the direction to go in, x marks the start of the small extra's.

Now, I'd also recommend writing on some type of paper with vertical lines like this if you're gonna do it physically.

You can just turn a paper with normal, horizontal lines a quarter to get vertical lines. Also, do NOT write in between the lines. They are meant to help you keep the start and ending on the same line so you don't start going into crazy directions while writing. So, start your sentence symbol or hook or whatever in the middle of the line and try to keep coming back to that vertical line after every letter. As you gain more proficiency you'll probably go straight into the next letter without going back to the line all the time but I think this is a good starting point.

I also recommend writing with a fountain pen or something else that flows well because it’s easier to write that way.

Here is another rough draft I made on physical paper to get a feel for it. As you can see this draft had a lot more different starting characters and ending characters so just ignore that. Hope this motivates you a bit or smth.

Lmk if you want me to post a video of me writing in this Parselscript.

Also please let me know if you know of someone else who's also made a Parselscript because I tried to look for it on Tumblr and Twitter etc but I couldn't find anything.

I also feel like there’s a big mistake I made that I realised the last time I worked on this script but I’ve forgotten it now so if you find out please comment or dm or anything💀

Also feel free to use in your own fic, tho a little tiny shoutout in the a/n would be nice :) I’m @/kiwi_cult on Ao3, @/slvtr_ on Wattpad, @/kiwi cult on ff.net, @/slvtr.1 on TikTok and @/.slvtr on Discord.

Credits:

@natis-balamnimaja @asterialvia and @/zee (who unfortunately left the server and I don't know the Tumblr @ of) for brainstorming with me and @isalisewrites for inspiring us and making the server we discussed this in.

Okay bye :) tell me if I forgot anything.

🥝

[madison-grey-bbw]

This has been living in my drafts for like a year ,, which is a crime 🚔

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I don't know if y'all realize how deeply absorbed I've fallen into this. I think about being bigger all the time. I am spending most of my days in bed, eating, getting high, playing with myself, repeat. Its been this way for maybe 2ish months now. I'm under 600 steps most days.

My mobility has been suffering a lot. I'm so lazy I prefer to have all of my food brought to me. Don't want to have to go down the stairs. I'm at a point where I usually rest for a moment halfway up the stairs to catch my breath. Walking is usually okay, unless I have to talk during and then it can get breathy 🙈 kinda embarrassing. but i love what I'm doing to myself, its so hot and I absolutely can't wait to be worse.

I eat as much as I can, I want to stretch my gut out and be constantly full of food. I stuff my face and read encouraging messages from y'all about how of course I can fit in a few more cookies.. its all so tempting. I love to please 🥺 I bet if you were hand feeding me I wouldn't be able to say no

I've been so into intox lately,, especially forced intox 🙈 I play a game in my messages where anytime anyone sends me a smoke emoji I take a hit from my weed pen. Some folks send one hit and some send ten 😵🥴 and I just keep puffing away and frying my brain 🍳🧠😵

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P.S This summer I did go on a few more outings (follow me on snap to see my blogs 🥰) so I have been walking more when I go out (still super lazy at home 😅) and I have been working full time , so not as much time for stuffing my face sadly 😭 really looking to get back to this point tho 🥺